#logan sargent smut

[cheriladycl01]

Kinktober 02/10/2024 Logan Sargeant- Public Sex

Plot: Logan and you go out clubbing after he is replaced in Williams and both have a few to many Tequila sunrises.

Warnings: Kinktober, SMUT, Public sex, Public fingering, in a club setting, in an alleyway etc 18+ MInors DNI

Logan wasn’t a risky person. He was actually the boy next door, never did anything wrong, always super sweet and never stepped out of his comfort zone.

He struggled in Williams, they didn’t have the best car and mixed with communication issues between himself and the team 2024 didn’t start of great. That was also because James Vowles was a knob who decided to convince Carlos Sainz to join Williams starting all the way back in 2023.

But now Logan was out of a seat and with the dwindling number of seats in F1 he surely wouldn’t get a seat back there anytime soon. So he started looking at other racing series, he even started looking into NASCAR but he was also at the point where he was now mentally checked out from racing.

Not completely but he did need a massive break from all the pressure on his head.

So of course being the loving doting and awesome girlfriend you are, you travelled with him. You guys went to Disney, travelled to watch the race in Baku, went to Japan and said fuck Williams in Singapore and then you ended up back in America before the Austin GP.

You went out clubbing with all of his friends from school, and some people who didn’t make it out of the feeder series like he did. You guys were enjoying your night. But the more one of you would drink, the more the other one would.

You were going back and forth from the bar taking it in turns while other people were also chipping in and buying you drinks. So by 2am, you were both outrageously drunk singing (actually screaming) along to Vigilante and Ready for it, as Logan of course is in his Reputation Era.

“Baby you look so fucking hot tonight I could fuck you right here” he groans as you take seat in his lap in a booth of the area of the club you guys are in.

“Omg fucking do it” you say leaning into him.

“Yeah, you want me to touch you in front of all these people?” He says kissing up your collarbone, across your neck, up your jaw and just before your ear.

“You wanna show all these people how pretty you are when I’m inside you. Argh that face you make?” He slurs and you nod turning round to lean into him more and sloppily kissing every inch of his face.

“Baby please I need you!” You moan into him, his hands grip your hips spinning you round so your facing him and straddling over his thigh.

“Im gonna make you cum so hard pretty girl” he moans kissing you lightly before slipping his tongue all the way in. His hand travels down in between the two of you, going up the little sparkly mini skirt you had on and straight into your underwear.

“Ah Logan” you moan leaning closer into him as his thumb makes circle motions on your clit. To anyone who looked you guys just looked like a horny couple having a steamy make out in the corner of the club, and there were many people who did look, and further took pics and you were probably in the back of others videos.

But that didn’t cross neither yours or Logan’s mind.

His fingers went deeper and his was thrusting his hand rapidly in and out. He made sure to keep his lips on yours to try drown out your drunken moans, even though the music was doing that anyway.

“Your so gorgeous like this, how’d I get so lucky. My god, beautiful girl” he moans and before you know it your arms are hugging round him pulling him close as you shake and clench around his fingers buried deep in you and still moving to ride out your high.

You sat there, trying to calm down just as a few of Logan’s friends joined you in the booth. Logan quickly pulled his fingers out, licking your juices off them before pulling your hair back and moving you to sit next to him, saying pulling your underwear back over to cover you up from the leather of the club booth.

You both seemed to slowly forget what you’d just done in the club, it was pretty scandalous for Logan so it made sense you both sort of had drunk a lot more since doing it.

Eventually you guys needed to leave, you ended up behind the back of the club in a quiet but not vacant alleyway that backed into some houses.

Logan immediately pushed you against the wall hitching your leg up and pushing himself into you making you gasp.

“You’ve been so persistent all night baby, you frustrated from earlier?” You ask knowing he hadn’t let go any of his pent up tension it was all still brewing.

“Mmmmm I want to be inside of you right now against this wall” he moans as he starts to hump into you at a feverish pace, whining and moaning as he does.

“Baby come on let’s wait till we get home huh?” You say with a small moan as his jeans brushed against your clothed clit. It felt good, so good but you could feel the exhaustion slowly take over.

“I can’t wait baby, you got your fun in there let me have mine out here” he complains and before you know it he’s unzipping his jeans and pulling himself out of them.

“Fine but make it quick” you gruff out noticing he’s already pulling your panties to the side and lifting you up to hold you against the wall as your legs naturally wrap round his waist.

He slips in so easily and a sigh of relief comes from him. He holds you up using the wall to help him keep you in place as he’s not at him most stable right now.

“Oh my god Logan” you moan, a hand coming up to cover your mouth not wanting anyone to hear from the rooms above.

“Ah baby, so good. Fuck you’re so tight” he says pumping in and out of you. Your back is arched against the wall and your hair is getting caught in all the brick work that’s started to wear away.

“So so close baby, keep squeezing me” he groans as your walls clamp around him even tighter than earlier.

“I love you so much Logan, fuck keep going” you moans loudly your head leaning back against the wall. This is the first time you decided to look round a little and you notice there are some people walking past the end of the alley way.

“Im gonna cum baby” he moans into you forcing himself further against you leaning your fully back against the wall and you feel him paint your walls. You’re immediately releasing that coil in your own stomach, letting all of your body weight relax into Logan.

“L-let’s get home” he sighs pulling out of you and tucking himself back into his shorts.

“You’ve never done anything like that Sargeant, what’s gotten into you” you laugh pulling your skirt back down.

“The drinks for sure, we’ll wake up tomorrow with questions, maybe even some scandalous articles” he jokes and he takes your hand to start to walk you guys home.

Taglist:

@littlebitchsposts @hockey-racing-fubol @laura-naruto-fan1998 @22yuki @simxican @sinofwriting @lewisroscoelove @cmleitora @daemyratwst @lauralarsen @the-untamed-soul @thewulf @itsjustkhaos @purplephantomwolf @chasing-liberosis @summissss @gulphulp @starfusionsworld @jspitwall @sierruhhhh @georgeparisole @youcannotcancelquidditch @tallbrownhairsarcastic @ourteenagetragedy @peachiicherries @formulas-bitch @cherry-piee @spilled-coffee-cup @mehrmonga @eiraethh @curseofhecate @alliwantisadonut @dark-night-sky-99 @i-wish-this-was-me @tallrock35 @butterfly-lover @barnestatic @landossainz @darleneslane @barcelonaloverf1life @r0nnsblog @ilove-tswizzle @laneyspaulding19 @malynn @landosgirlxoxo @marie0v @yourbane @teamnovalak @nikfigueiredo @fionaschicken @0picels0 @tinydeskwriter @ironmaiden1313 @splaterparty0-0 @formula1mount

[moonlight-records]

Take a break | LS2

pairing: logan sargent x reader

summary: its launch day for williams and your boyfriend so overwhelmed and tired you decide to give him a quick pick me up

warnings: smut: oral (f & m receiving), sorta sub!logan & dom!reader, no protection (wrap your willy sillies!), praise kink, breath play (didn't intend for that one), breeding kink, basically porn with a semi plot??

a/n: uh, haven't written smut in a long time let alone f/m smut so PLEASE be gentle with me here! also i'll admit, writing scene with eating out is NOT my strong suit but i'm trying to get better! again, no proofreading, we die like men!

wc: 2.8K

Launch days were something you weren’t particularly familiar with for a multitude of reasons. The first reason was you hadn’t been a long time fan of F1 as you had recently gotten into the sport a little into the 2023 season more as something to have on in the background. The second reason is because you were so new to this world of motorsports, you had no idea what the pre-season would entail. The third reason is because the only reason you got into the world of F1 was because of your boyfriend, Logan Sargent.

You happened to be on a trip with some friends in Miami even after hearing many horror stories about how Miami usually ruins friendships. That was not you and your friends though. Instead you and your friends had made a very important note to have dedicated alone time so you all didn’t end up kill each other and it was proving to be a great key to this vacation. During your shopping, you had bumped into someone and turned around to apologize the same time Logan did. The two of you laughed and went your separate ways. You had told your friends about the encounter and how you regretted not continuing the conversation but you were too embarrassed. They reassured you that they would find this mysterious blonde man for you.

None of you had to try very hard as you and your friends decided to go to a club Sunday night after the Grand Prix and it just happened to be the same one a lot of the drivers ended up going to. You ran into Logan again, literally, and this time you actually kept the conversation going. One thing lead to another (as well as finding out he was an F1 driver and causing you to go down this rabbit hole to understand his work more) and by summer break you had been on four dates before he officially asked you to be his partner. By winter break, you were comfortable enough for him to announce the relationship and even with the mixed reviews from fans neither of you let it affect your relationship. If anything, it made your relationships stronger. It helped that Alex and Lily were super supportive and helpful the moment you two went public.

Lily especially. She had been nothing but kind and supportive the moment you two went public. She went on about how sweet Logan is and how she was ecstatic for him to finally have met someone who wanted him for him and not because he was a famous world driver. She was also over the moon to have a WAG on the team (yes she even took the time to explain what was a WAG was to you) and that she finally had someone to sit with during races and chat with during events like this.

Which is how you found yourself sorta following Lily around like a lost puppy to really grasp the rope of things before the two of you found yourself huddled together as the launch happened. It was fun. There was a kid named William outside with a sign that said ‘My name is William too!’ They actually brought him in for the launch and even had him sit in the car. You smiled seeing the kid beam at the two of them and Logan happily chatting with him when he wasn’t pulled away to be in front of the camera.

After the launch, Alex and Logan were heading down to Central Park to continue filming so you and Lily decided to have a little afternoon together. You two went shopping, had lunch, and just explored as the two of you chatted about anything and everything. You guys were stopped a bit for pictures, which was expected with Lily, but you? That surprised you but also warmed your heart and you happily took the photos. Then you two arrived at the hotel and parted ways before the meet and greet where you’d probably be off to the side with her once again just watching and interacting with fans.

You were mindlessly flipping through channels on the TV when you heard a faint whirling noise before the door was opened. Looking over you saw your boyfriend and a smile tugged to your lips. Shifting, you sit next on the edge of the bed as Logan comes padding over. The smile turns into a small frown seeing the state of him. “You okay?” You ask. He grunts in response as he stands between your legs and you rub his arms soothingly.

“Come sit,” you gently pull Logan down next to you. Immediately, the American is pulling you into his lap and burying his face into your neck. Running your fingers through his hair, you kiss his temple gentle as he grumbles about how long days like this were and how tiring they were and he wanted nothing more than to stay here. You bit your lip gentle wanting to reassure him that it would be over soon but knew he had so much more socializing to do and he was near his wits end.

Then, an idea hit you.

“Tell me more,” you comment as you wiggle out of his lap and kneel behind him to give him a massage. You feel him relax under your touch and you smile gently as you continue. It’s a nice gesture but it’s mainly a distraction. When he’s relaxed enough you pull away as he continues to ramble as you slide off the bed and move to stand between his legs. Gently pushing him on the bed Logan’s let out a small huff of a laugh as he tosses an arm over his eyes. Perfect. Stripping out of your pants and panties, you crawl onto the bed and swat his arm away. The second his arm is to his side you’re swinging a leg over, trapping his head between his thighs and sitting down.

It takes a millisecond for Logan to realize what’s going on before you groan feeling his tongue on your clit. Your hands fly to his hair for purchase as he happily runs his tongue over your clit. Long slow strokes before short kitten licks. It sends a shiver of pleasure up your body as you buck your hips forward. His hands quickly find your thighs gripping tightly as he traps you. You tilt your head back groaning loudly as you roll your hips as you two find your rhythm quickly since Logan loves being between your thighs.

You let praises fall from your lips between the moans and gasps falling from your face. It should be illegal with how good Logan is from your clit to your cunt as he opens you up with his tongue. Even though you guys haven’t been together for long he had made it his mission to learn your body inside and out. How you liked him switching between slow licks and fast licks. How your eyes rolled when he teased your clit with circles before sucking. How your hips bucked when he slipped his tongue in and slowly fucked you open. How if he tilted his head back just enough he could get deeper brushing against your g-spot, causing you to throw your head back and let out the most delicious sounds. How if he switched the routine up it drove you mad and close to your orgasm which he was very much intending to do but that’s not on your agenda.

Your chest was heaving as you felt the familiar coil starting to form in your abdomen. You force yourself to let go of his hair to wedge your fingers under his and pries his hands off your thighs before you lift yourself up. Looking down, you wish you could take a picture but a mental one will do. Logan’s hair was wild against the sheets, eyes wide and pupils blown. His face was flushed a beautiful shade of pink and his mouth and chin was shiny with your juices. His fingers twitched in your hands as he stared up at you neither one daring to move as he whines. He became such a beautiful mess so quickly for you.

“Yes?”

“I need—” he gulps slightly.

“You need what?” You tease.

His mouth opens and then closes as he tries to find the words. You know exactly what he wants and you’re tempted to give it to him, “stay,” you command as your grip on his hands loosens so you can easily move off of him and slink off the bed and onto the floor.

“Sit up,” you say while stroking the inside of his thigh and he does looking down at you. Looking up at him, you wrap your lips around the tip of his cock and he groans tipping his head back slightly. You swirl your tongue around the tip before flattening your tongue along the underside of his cock. Hallowing your cheeks, you start to bob your head. You watch his hands start to go to your hair but stop knowing better than to touch without permission so he grabs the sheets as if it’s a life line. You place your hands on his thighs to steady yourself as you continue prepping yourself. He’s babbling above you begging for more. He’s not specific with what he wants but that’s typical for him.

When you’re relaxed you happily take him down your throat, nose against his navel, and Logan throws his head back letting out a moan. Internally, you smirk at how loud he was. Usually he tried to be reserved and letting himself be focused on your pleasure but today was about him. You pull off to the tip before going straight back down and he tenses to keep himself still knuckles white from how hard he was holding onto the sheets. You continue for a bit longer before you pull off with a pop before standing.

“Lay down,” you say gesturing to the pillows and Logan scrambles laying on his back as his head hits the pillow. You wince for him since he was so close to hitting the headboard but it was a miracle he didn’t. That would’ve been one way to kill the mood and end the day for sure. Getting onto the bed, you straddle your boyfriend who’s breathing heavily from anticipation. Smirking at the mess you’ve already made of him, you grab the base of his cock and line yourself up before sliding down.

In unison you both groan as you put your hands on his chest for leverage. Once you’re bottomed out you take a moment to adjust. You start to move your hips in small circles sucking your bottom lip between your teeth as Logan turns his head to the side, groaning again.

“Babe I—”

“Shhh, I know. It’s okay,” you murmur as you run your hands over his chest, “I got you. Just lay there and let me hear all your pretty noises. Can you do that for me?”

Logan whines in response again.

“Logan.”

“Yes,” he breaths out, “Yes I—I can do that.”

“Good boy.”

Raising your hips you sink back down and tilt your head back. It’s been a while since you two have actually had time to have sex and it felt like the first time all over again. Just with how well he filled you up and it felt like a punch to the gut (pun intended…maybe). You start out with this slow rhythm hearing how Logan groaned and moaned under you whining and asking for more.

You work yourself on his cock picking up the pace as you go. You lean back, gasping at the new angle as your hands find purchase on his thighs. “Oh fuck—” you manage out between the moans. “Yes, fuck yes baby so good.” You ramble on as his head tosses to the side, hands gripping the pillows, the sheets, anything that isn’t you.

“I—fuck babe—please—” Logan gasps.

“Please what?”

“Let me touch you. Fuck. Babe. Please. Please please please,” he begs, “need to touch you. Please, shit, babe you look so good riding me, please,” He begs, “been so good for you.”

“Such a good boy,” you purr out, “okay.”

His hands fly to your hips. His eyes trained on you. How your lips are parted. The slight sweat starting to form on your forehead as your hair sticks to it. How your eyes are fluttering close.

“Let me move. Please baby,” he begs, “you’ve done so much work,” he’s rambling, “wanna make you feel good. Please let me make you feel good. God fuck babe I wanna make you feel good.”

You’re lost in your own little world as Logan rambles on. You’re so close of finding that spot and you shift to lean forward, hands back on his chest. One hand fumbles but it covers Logan’s mouth as you continue, slamming your hips down on him. Your eyes go wide and you see stars when you find it, throwing your head back as you continue. “Fuck—oh right there. Shit—” you moan out as you fall into an endless cycle of moans, groans, and cursing. You can feel Logan’s lips against your hand still moving but between your own noises and the absolutely filthy obscene noises you two were making it was drowned out.

Your body is on fire. Your legs are straining and you’re getting tired but you continue. You feel the coil forming once again and your hand drops to Logan’s throat as you wrap your hand around, squeezing slightly. He lets out a strangled gasp mostly out of shock before he moans. “You—fuck—” you breath heavily, “yes move.”

Logan did not need to be told twice. Gripping your hips tight enough that will surely leave bruises, not that you really minded, he snapped his hips up when you came down. You screamed - you’re pretty sure you did but you can’t be quiet to sure with the stars you were seeing and everything else drowning out expect Logan’s voice. He’s thanking you over and over, telling you how amazing you are and how you treat him so so well. He matches your pace and you can’t even prepare yourself as your orgasm is ripped out of you.

You grip his throat tighter and he lets out another strangled groan. Your body shakes as you continue riding him babbling about how good he’s fucking you, how pretty he is like this, how only you get to see him like this, and how only you can make him feel this good. He’s trying to speak but it’s hard and you manage to loosen your grip. He gasps for air before the words are slipping past his lips.

“Please. Oh god please let me cum. Please I’m so—I’m so fucking close. Babe. I need—” he chokes on air as tears form, “god please.”

You feel limp. You’ve slowed your own pace down but he continues with the pace. You manage an ‘yes, you can cum’ through moans and whines. It takes three more thrust before Logan’s spilling into you, head thrown back and groaning loudly as his eyes roll in the back of his head slightly. He continues to fuck you through his own orgasm before he finally comes down.

You’re both shaking slightly at this point. You force yourself to pull off of him, feeling his cum ooze out of you as you end up collapsing on top of Logan as the two of you catch your breath. Moving his hands to your hips, he gently massages them as he kisses the top of your head. You let your eyes slip close as your breathing returns to normal smiling to yourself as you listen to his heartbeat. “Better?” You ask finally breaking the comfortable silence.

“Much better. Thank you babe, I really needed that,” he says and plants a soft kiss to your hair.

“Of course. You know all you have to do is ask.”

Logan huffs a laugh out which earns an eye roll out of you. You turn your head so you can look at him and he’s smiling at you, leaning down to kiss your nose as you wiggle it. “I know,” he says, “I’m…working on it.”

“I know, and I’m proud. But with a schedule like this you have to be more keen on making sure you’re okay. Really.”

“I know. I know,” he nods as he speaks, “now come on, we gotta get cleaned up so we can go to dinner.”

“Dinner?”

“Yeah,” Logan blinks, “the meet and greet starts at six. So I thought we could grab an early dinner at a little mom and pops diner I found. Come on,” he gently sits up with you still on his chest. You squeak when he’s got his arms under your ass and shifting before you two are standing legs instinctively wrapping around his waist with a grin, “I’m paying this time.”

“You paid last time!” You argue as he laughs taking you both to the bathroom to get clean before dinner.

[theonottsbxtch]

CONFIDENCE | LS2

an: everyone turn around and say thank you @iimplicitt for writing the smut for this. i’m useless in that department but she’s not! please go follow her and appreciate her 💜 based off of this request

wc: 2.3k

warnings: smut, minors dni!!!

LOGAN PUSHED THE HOTEL room door shut with a soft click, the cool draft of the air-conditioned room a stark contrast to the muggy air of the track. He set the envelope down on the desk, the bold logo of his new racing team staring back at him like a challenge he wasn’t sure he was ready to accept. His fingers lingered over the seal, the weight of what he had done finally sinking in.

He had signed the contract.

It wasn’t Formula One, and he would never pretend it was, but it was something. A chance. A path back to the adrenaline-laced life he craved. But the words that should have been triumphant now felt heavy in his chest. He glanced over to the bed, where she lay curled up beneath the rumpled sheets, her dark hair spilling over the pillow in disarray.

She had followed him halfway across the world, leaving behind the gilded life of the paddock—the life she had known forever—for his sake. Her support had been relentless, fierce even, and yet, telling her about this felt harder than signing away the next year of his life. Logan sighed and rubbed the back of his neck, his racing-worn hands trembling slightly as he moved towards the bed.

She was half-covered by the sheet, his oversized T-shirt slipping off one shoulder to reveal smooth skin. Her breathing was soft and steady, her lips parted slightly as she remained lost in sleep. For a moment, he stood still, watching her. She always managed to look so peaceful in moments like these, a stark contrast to the chaos that had consumed their lives for months.

“Hey,” he murmured, crouching down beside her. His voice was soft, almost apologetic as he brushed a few strands of hair away from her face. She stirred slightly, her lashes fluttering, and a sleepy groan escaped her lips.

“Logan?” Her voice was a mix of grogginess and confusion, her eyes half-opening to find him kneeling by her side.

“Sorry to wake you,” he said, his lips curving into a small, sheepish smile. “I just… I didn’t want to wait.”

She shifted, propping herself up on one elbow. The blanket slipped down to her waist, and the sight of her in his shirt, her bare legs tangled in the sheets, made something tighten in his chest. “What is it?” she asked, her voice still soft but edged with curiosity.

He swallowed, suddenly unsure how to start. “I… I did it. I signed the contract.”

Her eyes widened slightly, the last remnants of sleep vanishing. She pushed herself upright, the movement causing her shirt to ride up slightly. “You did?” she asked, her tone unreadable.

“Yeah.” He looked down at his hands, suddenly feeling exposed. “It’s not what we talked about, but it’s a good team. Good people. And they think I’ve got something left in me.”

There was a pause, and then she reached out, her fingers sliding gently under his chin to tilt his face up to meet hers. Her expression softened, a smile spreading across her lips. “Of course you do,” she said, her voice steady and certain. “You wouldn’t be you if you didn’t.”

Logan exhaled a breath he hadn’t realised he was holding. Her unwavering belief in him always caught him off guard. He leaned forward, pressing his forehead against hers, letting her warmth soothe the frayed edges of his nerves.

“I couldn’t have done it without you,” he admitted.

“You’re wrong,” she whispered, her hands slipping around his neck to pull him closer. “You just needed to remember who you are.”

The kiss came naturally, a slow and tender thing that grew deeper as their bodies closed the distance. Her hands trailed down his back, and he lifted her effortlessly, the sheet falling away as he settled her onto her feet. She was his anchor and his refuge, and in that moment, he let himself forget everything else but her.

Logan drew back just enough to meet her gaze, his fingers tangling in the hem of his shirt she wore. Slowly, he eased it upward, his knuckles brushing against her skin, her breath hitching at the feather-light touch. She raised her arms without hesitation, letting him slide the shirt over her head, revealing her completely to him in the dim light.

His own shirt was next. She reached for it, her hands firm but unhurried as she worked it over his shoulders. Her nails dragged down his stomach after he had shrugged his shirt off. Logan’s tanned skin glowed in the low light of their hotel room and his muscles were taut under her touch. Her eyes flicked up to his face, her drowsiness completely evaporated as she took in the dark look of his blue gaze and how his lips pulled back in a smile that left a promise of being gentle long forgotten. There was something different about him, yet familiar.

He was so handsome. His dirty blond hair was askew in many directions, giving him an unkempt look and helmet lines were still imprinted along his cheekbones. She loved helmet lines on him, it was ridiculously attractive but it felt so silly to admit. She bit her lip, suddenly feeling a bit shy under his intense gaze. She hadn’t seen him so… she didn’t even know how to describe it. But he was carrying himself differently and it was driving her wild.

His hands danced up her bare sides, making her shiver despite the warm temperature of the room. Logan’s fingers were rough, his hands well calloused over the years and even the faintest of touches was making her nerves feel as if they were turning into a mess of lustful sludge. The smile on his face deepened at her clear physical reaction to him, dimples appearing in his cheeks as his hands rested at her throat to cup it and push his thumbs up under her chin to tilt her head back.

“Mine?” he hummed, his voice making her heart stutter pathetically in her chest and she nodded as she rested her hands over his wrists.

“Hm?” She was sure she looked as dazed as she felt.

Logan laughed lightly as he tilted his head down, his warm breath that smelled of coffee teased her senses. “All mine,” he confirmed for her before pressing his mouth to hers again.

A whine left her at the contact, completely unwarranted and she hadn’t the faintest clue where it had come from. But with the way Logan groaned into the kiss and held onto her tighter, she figured she should keep making noises.

They stumbled backward, recklessly navigating the short distance to the bed. Their bodies fell into the threaded cotton heavily and neither cared how much ruckus they might’ve been causing. Logan was on top of her, the heat from his body something akin to heaven and one of his knees nudged her legs open so he could rest his hips against hers.

On instinct, her hands danced down to take hold of his belt to undo it. But when the kiss broke off and one of his large hands clamped over her wrists to stop her movements, she blinked up at him. Equal parts confused and annoyed.

For a while they had fallen into the routine where she took care of him. She didn’t mind, in all honesty. She loved making him feel good in any way she was capable. She loved being able to help make him relax. The past two years had almost ruined his mental health completely and she always tried to find ways to cheer him up, sexually or not. But she knew getting him off was always a great way for him to release tension.

Logan sat up on his knees, still trapping her beneath him and he took her bound hands and slowly lifted them above her head before leaning down and pressing them into the mattress, his face hovering over hers. Her breath caught when she realized what exactly was happening. The way his pupils were blown wide as he looked at her was a tall tale sign tonight was going to be something different.

“Don’t move until I say so.” His voice was sharp despite the fact the words were whispered.

Her mouth watered, which was pathetic. She blinked up at him stupidly like a deer caught in headlights.

He raised a brow at her, his free hand coming up to grip her jaw firmly but not enough to actually hurt. “Okay?”

She nodded but he shook his head. “I wanna hear you, baby. Tell me you know what to do.”

Swallowing thickly, she felt chills ravish her skin as his fingers trailed down her throat, further down between the cavern of her breast before resting and the edge of her underwear. Logan looked up at her, patient and expecting. Not going any further and deciding to toy with the little bow that was stitched onto the hem of her panties.

“Okay, darling.”

The instant glimmer that seemed to flick over his eyes as he gave her a look she couldn’t quite decipher was something she wanted engraved into her memory for the rest of eternity. Words such as yearning began to cross her mind but her brain quickly short circuited as her underwear was practically ripped off her and she felt his warm mouth latch onto her down there.

“Oh my god,” she choked out, much louder than she probably should’ve and not a moment later she felt one of Logan’s hands sneak up and curl around her throat. His other hand maneuvering one of her legs to drape over his shoulder before pulling the skin below her navel taught to fully expose herself to his wanting mouth.

She felt dizzy as his mouth pressed against her, the pressure delirious and his tongue made tight circles on her clit before flattening to drag up over it. Only for him to repeat the process at a pace that made her feel like she was already at a tipping point. A moan tore up her throat, but the pressure of his large hand against her skin made the sound strangled and only seemed to motivate him further.

A groan left his own lips and sent vibrations ringing through her. She barely registered the the feel of his tongue dragging up and over her stomach, landing on one her breasts and the sound of fabric rustling when she felt something much larger and more stiff than his tongue nudge at her entrance.

A gasp left her when she felt his hips slide against hers, entering her in one swift motion and filling her completely. “You’re so fucking perfect,” he said hotly against her skin as he started moving, letting her adjust for only a moment before picking up a pace that was nearly brutal.

She couldn’t help the delirious laugh that left her lips, feeling in bliss as the sound of his skin hitting hers echoed in the room and her stomach was winding itself up in knots. Logan leaned up slightly, his eyes catching on something ahead of them before taking her chin and pushing it back so she could see the wall behind them.

A mirror.

She immediately blushed the sight of him fucking her, about to look away but his grip tightened and she could see him smiling.

“Look at you, my hot girlfriend.”

She laughed again, smiling so hard her cheeks hurt but her eyes widened suddenly when he pulled out and flipped her around on her stomach. “Logan-“

His large hands gripped under her hips, yanking them upward so she was on her knees and arched for him. She barely had time to expel a breath when he entered her again, hips slamming against hers and his cock hitting so deep it brushed against her cervix. She cried out, a mixture of pain and pleasure as her fingers dug themselves into the sheets.

He leaned over her, his body pressed against hers and so warm, sweat slicking both of their skin. His warm breath ghosted over her ear as his eyes locked onto hers in the mirror. God, she looked like a whore. Her hair a mess and face flushed red, lips swollen and mouth ajar as her body slid against the sheets with each thrust of him into her.

“What would your dad say?”

Her father would probably have a stroke if he knew the driver he had fired recently was secretly dating his daughter, let alone fucking her like she was some sort of slut. A whine left her and she buried her face in the bedding when one of his hands snaked over her belly and found her clit, rubbing tight circles into it and she felt her legs begin to tremble.

An opiate-like haze began to fog up her senses and Logan’s other hand wound itself in her hair, yanking her head up. “Lemme see you, baby. Be good for me.”

When his fingers added just a bit more pressure to her clit, he thrusted inside her at the same time and her eyes rolled back and she fell over the edge almost violently. The sound that left her lips sounded distant and not quite herself, being clouded with the echoes of the groan that left Logan as his hands tightened on her hips. His grip so hard she was sure there might’ve been bruises left in the shape of his fingertips but the pressure was instantly forgotten when she felt him come inside of her.

They collapsed together, her falling flat on her stomach and he shifted slightly to the side so he didn’t crush her under his body. The room was boiling but the comfort of him being so close was something she would never get tired of.

She sighed in content as his fingers brushed her hair away from her face and she peeked up at him, face flushed and her own pupils probably blown as wide as his.

“Oh my God,” she panted, catching her breath. “I think I like this new version of you.”

Logan’s hans dropped from her hair as he pulled her close to him, both of them were sweaty and messy.

But she didn’t mind, she was glad to have her Logan back.

the end.

[edensxgarden]

hi so first of all the amount of cockwarming blurbs you’ve been writing recently makes me so so happy!

second of call can we maybe talk about cockwarming logan or charles? like they both tried so so hard this past weekend and didn’t get the results they worked so hard to achieve so they’re both a little sad and just need to be inside you and feel like everything will be okay?

Aww I'm glad you enjoyed! After Vegas and everything else going on my Logan deserves some attention!

The two of you were so excited after quali!! It'd been such a tough year for Logan and this was huge for him! The two of you were like giggly teenagers as you sipped on sweet champagne, celebrating him <3

But after the gp, there was absolutely nothing to celebrate. It was just yet another week where Logan was stuck out of the points and in the end it all was for nothing :(

And the little sad puppy look Logan had on his face made your heart shatter! He was such a talented driver, he just wasn't getting the opportunity to show it and you knew it was making him question his own abilities :(

After the race, the two of you decided to skip the festivities and just head back to the hotel. Logan was heartbroken at yet another promising week ending in failure and you internally decided it was your mission to make him feel better!

You offered to order in his favorite foods and watch his favorite shows and you tried your very best to bargain a smile onto his face but nothing was working and you just hated seeing your boyfriend like that :(

So you decided to do the one thing you always knew would put a smile on his face.

You made your way to where Logan sat on the couch, mindlessly flipping through channels to find something to take his mind off the poor race result :(

You walked over to him, nothing but an oversized Williams t-shirt covering your body and sat on his lap, your needy cunt leaking onto his jeans

The damp stain on his pants embarrassed you but you knew it was worth it because Logan lifted his hips and quickly shuffled his jeans and boxers off until his halfhard dick rested against his toned tummy <3

And you just sat yourself down on it, letting your warm, plushy walls accommodate to Logan's pretty dick, savoring the way his fat tip felt so deep in your cunt.

And you instantly felt his tense body relax against you as he laid his head in your shoulder and let out a small whimpery moan. He sounded so needy and pathetic and it made your cunt tighten around his sensitive cock which made him moan again and it was just an endless cycle :(

But after a few short minutes with your pretty pussy hugging his dick and your nails softly scratching his scalp, his sweet moans turned into sleepy snores as he dozed off with a smile <3

[faithsmadhouse]

Double Trouble||OC!Kaycee Thomas x Oscar piastri x Logan Sargent

Warnings dom/sub dynamics, brat/brat-tamer dynamics, strap-on play (m->m), oral sex (m->m), spanking, threesome, double blowjob, degradation + praise kink, possessiveness, aftercare, rough sex, edging, begging, established relationship, slight humor, subby Logan, bratty Oscar, dom!Kaycee,handholding during sex, soft moments, light choking, overstimulation, sleep aftercare

Tagging— @crispysoup318

A/n this isn’t as good as I wanted it I was low key fighting with it since October

Kaycee stood at the foot of the bed, arms crossed, Oscar lounged against the headboard with a smug tilt to his lips, naked save for the defiance in his eyes. Logan knelt between Kaycee’s thighs, cheeks flushed, pupils blown wide.

“Shhh, I got you, sweetheart,” he murmured, fingers in Logan’s hair as the blond whined softly. “Just lie back and let me take care of you.”

Logan moaned, tongue licking the tip of kaycees cock like he was starved for it. Kaycee grinned and pushed in slowly.

“Aww, look at you turning into a dumb slut I know you are at the sight of my cock.”

Behind him, Oscar rolled his eyes. “You act like your cock is magic or something.”

Kaycee didn’t even glance back. “Don’t be a brat,” he said coolly, rolling his hips. Logan gasped beneath him. “And maybe—just maybe—I’ll let you cum later.”

Oscar let out a sarcastic little laugh. “Promises, promises.”

Kaycee turned his head just enough to shoot him a warning look. “Behave. I wouldn’t want to have to punish you now.”

Oscar tilted his head, licking his bottom lip. “Maybe I want you to.”

Logan whimpered around the cock in his mouth, nails digging into Kaycee’s thighs. Kaycee tugged his hair back just enough to see his face.

“Can’t you handle it, baby?”

He nodded frantically, eyes glossy. “I can—fuck—I can handle it.”

“Good boy,” Kaycee purred, dragging his fingers down Logan’s chest, hips rolling slow and deliberate. “Act like a brat,” he threw back over his shoulder to Oscar, “and I’ll treat you like a brat.”

Oscar smirked.

Earlier That Night…

Logan was trying—trying—to be good. He had already gotten Kaycee’s hand wrapped loosely around his jaw with the soft warning of “Patience, sweetheart.” But Oscar, sprawled across the couch like temptation incarnate, had other plans.

“C’mon,” Oscar drawled, fingers drifting across Logan’s thigh while Kaycee was busy in the kitchen. “He’s so tense lately. You know he likes it when we give him a reason to get rough.”

Logan flushed. “We’re supposed to be good tonight…”

Oscar leaned in, brushing lips along his ear. “But you like when he gets mean. You shake when he says your name like that.”

“Oscar—”

Too late.

“Hey, Kaycee!” Oscar called, voice sugar-sweet and far too loud. “Logan said your cock isn’t as magical as you think.”

Logan turned bright red, choking on a protest.

Kaycee appeared in the doorway like summoned fury, brow raised.

“…What did he say?” His tone was deceptively calm, dark with promise.

Oscar grinned wide. “I might’ve… paraphrased.”

Kaycee’s eyes slid to Logan, who looked stricken.

“Logan?”

“I didn’t—I swear—I tried to stop him—”

“Uh-huh,” Kaycee said, voice all amusement and warning. “Alright. That’s how tonight’s gonna go?”

Oscar leaned back, victorious. “What can I say? We’re just a little mouthy tonight.”

Kaycee stepped forward, unbuckling his belt with deliberate slowness. “Good. Because I was in the mood to ruin both of you anyway.”

Oscar’s mouth was already wet and eager as he worked Logan’s cock with practiced precision, but the bratty glint in his eye didn’t go unnoticed. Kneeling on all fours, ass arched just right, he glanced back at Kaycee with that smug little smirk that always got him in trouble.

Kaycee ran a hand over the curve of Oscar’s ass, slow and deliberate. “Look at you,” he murmured, voice low and dark. “Mouth full, cocky as ever. You just don’t learn, do you?”

Oscar hummed around Logan’s length, earning a sharp moan from the blond beneath him. Logan’s hands threaded into Oscar’s hair, but he didn’t dare move he knew better.

Without warning, Kaycee brought his palm down hard. The smack echoed, a sharp crack that made Oscar jolt forward and moan around Logan’s cock.

“Count them for me,” Kaycee ordered.

Oscar pulled off with a gasp, panting. “One…”

Another slap. “Two.”

Kaycee rubbed the red mark before landing a third spank.

“Three. Fuck.”

“Act like a brat,” Kaycee growled, positioning himself behind Oscar, “and I’ll treat you like a brat.”

He pushed in slow, making Oscar whine and Logan buck up desperately into Oscar’s mouth. Kaycee leaned down over Oscar’s back, one hand gripping his hip, the other in his hair.

“Shhh, I got you, sweetheart,” he murmured into Oscar’s ear, deceptively soft. “Just lie back and let me take care of you.”

Oscar let out a strangled moan, lips stretching around Logan again. Logan was trembling, wide-eyed, trying to hold on as Oscar’s mouth sucked him deep with practiced ease.

Kaycee’s thrusts started slow, firm. Deep.

“Aww, look at you,” he chuckled, voice hot against Oscar’s neck, “turning into the dumb slut I knew you were at the sight of my cock.”

Oscar whimpered, muffled around Logan’s length, and Logan choked out a moan.

“Can’t you handle it, baby?” Kaycee asked, voice thick with challenge.

“I can—fuck—I can handle it,” Oscar gasped when he came up for air, only for Kaycee to thrust harder, nearly knocking him off balance.

Kaycee smirked. “Don’t be a brat, and maybe—just maybe—I’ll let you cum later.”

Oscar was barely holding it together, caught in the rhythm of Logan’s soft moans and Kaycee’s relentless thrusts. His body burned—ass red and aching, mouth slick and swollen from taking Logan deep, and his cock leaking untouched beneath him.

Kaycee leaned down again, pressing Oscar’s back flush to his chest as he drove in hard, drawing another desperate noise from the brat beneath him.

“You feel that?” he growled. “That’s mine. This smart fucking mouth—” he reached around and tugged gently on Oscar’s bottom lip, “—mine.”

Oscar’s lashes fluttered. “Y-Yeah,” he whispered, brain going fuzzy as he tried to stay focused on Logan’s cock twitching in his mouth.

“Such a good toy for him, aren’t you?” Kaycee cooed, gentler now. His hand smoothed over Oscar’s flank, grounding him. “Sweet little thing with such a filthy mouth.”

Logan whined, one hand trembling as he reached out blindly. Kaycee caught it, threading their fingers together even as he fucked Oscar harder, deeper.

“That’s it, sweetheart. Take it,” he murmured to Logan now, voice a soothing contrast to the rough sounds filling the room. “You’re doing so well. Let him make you feel good.”

Oscar gagged around Logan’s cock as Kaycee angled just right, making his whole body jolt. Logan’s hips bucked and he gasped, “Fuck—gonna—Kaycee—”

“Let go, baby. Cum for me.”

Logan cried out, hips stuttering as he came, fist tightening around Kaycee’s hand. Oscar swallowed every drop, panting when he finally pulled back, spit and come dribbling from his lips.

“Holy shit,” he breathed, looking drunk on it all.

Kaycee slowed his thrusts, now fucking Oscar through Logan’s orgasm, his touch turning from punishing to possessive. One hand slid to Oscar’s throat, just resting there, a silent reminder of control. His other wrapped around Oscar’s neglected cock, stroking slowly.

Oscar whimpered. “Please—fuck, please—”

Kaycee kissed the side of his neck. “Think you’ve earned it?”

Oscar nodded frantically. “Been good—been so good.”

Kaycee chuckled softly. “Barely,” he said, but his hand didn’t stop. “But I’ll let you.”

Oscar came hard, collapsing into Logan’s lap, shaking with it. Kaycee held him through it all, gently stroking him through the aftershocks, murmuring praise against his sweat-slick skin.

Logan reached up, brushing Oscar’s hair back, his touch featherlight.

Kaycee finally pulled out, lying down behind Oscar and dragging both of them close, one arm slung around Logan, the other curled around Oscar’s waist.

“You’re both mine,” he whispered against the crown of Oscar’s head. “And I take care of what’s mine.”

Oscar hummed sleepily. “Even when I’m a brat?”

“Especially when you’re a brat.”

Logan smiled softly. “Love you, Kaycee.”

Kaycee pressed a kiss to his temple. “Love you too, sweetheart. Now sleep. You’ll need the rest.”

“…Why?” Oscar muttered, already half-asleep.

Kaycee smirked. “Because next time, I’m not going to be so gentle.”

[f1smutwriter]

Logan Sargent Masterlist

𝐒𝐌𝐔𝐓

𝐘𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐌𝐢𝐧𝐞 (𝐥𝐬𝟐 𝐨𝐩𝟖𝟏)

𝐈𝐌𝐀𝐆𝐈𝐍𝐄

None yet

𝐁𝐋𝐔𝐑𝐁𝐒

None yet

𝐒𝐌𝐀𝐔

None yet

[csainzoperator]

"let's break up" ☆

summary: you text your f1 boyfriend "let's break up" as a prank.

trigger warnings: fem pronouns, mentions of seperated parents, mentions of killing (as a joke), nicknames, idk if there are more (?)

charles, carlos, lewis, george, max

lando, oscar, alex, logan, daniel

an: omg pls i need such responses. especially logan's cos that's literally me. but hope you had fun reading this, my loves!

[aceyalonso]

sera's kinktober masterlist 2024

𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐭𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐬 : 𝐜𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐞𝐝

how? send an ask, pairing a driver with the available day! ↳ example: "hi! can I request [driver] + [day #___]?"

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬

✮ the posting schedule will be from october to november. i was unable to write as much as i wanted to for this because of familial matters i can’t discuss, i hope you guys understand! 🥲

✮ AHHH!! my first kinktober ever, so please don't be too harsh :,) ✮ please note that some of these works/chapters contain content and kinks that might not be your cup of tea, please do not click on something that you're not comfortable with ✮ i will only write a maximum of 4 fics for each driver (so that there won't be too many of each driver) ✮ this list will be a mix of full fics and drabbles. ✮ some of the days here already have drivers assigned, but rest assured majority of these are up for grabs!

𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐢𝐧𝐟𝐨 𝐮𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐮𝐭!

what days are available? ↳ i will remove the days that have already been taken. ✮ day 3 - biting (requested by anon) ✮ day 9 - lap dance (requested by anon) ✮ day 11 - temperature play (requested by anon) ✮ day 12 - mutual masturbation (requested by anon) ✮ day 13 - deepthroating (requested by anon) ✮ day 15 - begging (requested by anon) ✮ day 17 - dacryphilia (requested by anon) ✮ day 19 - bondage (requested by anon) ✮ day 20 - ass worship (requested by @cleopatrick-123) ✮ day 21 - breeding (requested by anon) ✮ day 22 - orgasm denial (requested by anon) ✮ day 23 - overstimulation (requested by @nandolonso) ✮ day 24 - voyeurism (requested by anon) ✮ day 25 - nipple play (requested by @bad268) ✮ day 26 - wax play (requested by anon) ✮ day 28 - public sex (requested by @menagerofmischief) ✮ day 29 - hair pulling (requested by @nepobbylver)

day 1 (october 1st) - humiliation kink with sebastian vettel | "don't cover your mouth, let them hear it liebling."

synopsis - sebastian rewarding his ever so hard-working secretary

𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞

day 2 (october 3rd) - threesome with lando norris & oscar piastri | "look osc, she's taking it so well"

synopsis - what happens when lando catches y/n and oscar in a rather... compromising position?

𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞

day 3 (october 5th) - biting with oscar piastri | “jesus fuck, are you are a vampire or something?”

synopsis - biting has weirdly always been a part of y/n's love language, what happens when she bites oscar where he's a little bit more than just sensitive?

𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞

day 4 (october 7th) - overstimulation with lando norris | "be a good girl f'me, i know you can take another round"

synopsis - win celebrations look a little different for lando norris this time around

𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞

day 5 (october 9th) - jealous sex with oscar piastri | "i don't have to be inside you to make you feel good."

synopsis - oscar and his jealous tendencies can lead to some... eventful consequences

𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞

day 6 (october 11th) - daddy kink with jenson button | "spread your legs for daddy, i wanna see you"

synopsis - art and money have always been the two constants in y/n's life, what happens when those two constants result in a sugar daddy who happens to own an art gallery?

𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞

day 7 (october 13th) - hate fucking with lance stroll | "this is what you wanted, isn't it? to prove you're better than me?"

synopsis - the fashion industry has always been a dog-eat-dog world or a rival-fuck-rival world (for lance and y/n, at least)

𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞

day 8 (october 15th) - sensory deprivation with fernando alonso | "don’t argue mi princesa, just put the blindfold on.”

synopsis - fernando always loved the way silk looked on y/n he loved how it hugged her figure, he loved how it would make her look like a goddess, whether it was the dress he bought for her or her wearing nothing the silk blindfold

𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞

day 9 (october 17th) - lap dance with daniel ricciardo | “fuck, keep moving like that and i’ll bend you over the bar.”

synopsis - what happens when y/n does a simple dance routine that turns into something dirtier?

𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞

day 10 (october 19th) - mirror sex with george russell | "look at yourself, so gorgeous."

synopsis - ever since y/n and george started spending some weekends on the boat, she has always wondered why he needed to have a mirror on the wall and on the ceiling of the bedroom

𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞

day 11 (october 21st) - temperature play with kimi raikkonen | “didn’t i tell you to stay still?”

synopsis - y/n knew that marrying the so-called "iceman" of formula 1 certainly has its hot and cold times, especially when it's kimi using ice cubes in the bedroom

𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞

day 12 (october 23rd) - mutual masturbation with charles leclerc | "show me how you like it, i want to see you squirm."

synopsis - who knew that watching 50 shades of grey with your best friend could end so well?

𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞

day 13 (october 25th) - deepthroat with max verstappen | “you look so pathetic like this.”

synopsis - max can't seem to escape the norris' after that terrible race in Austria. The only difference? Y/n was actually worth Max's time (and stamina)

𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞

day 14 (october 27th) - tattoos with lewis hamilton | "i didn't know you got a spine tattoo."

synopsis - a little rain never hurt anyone... not until lewis almost breaks y/n's back (in a good way)

𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞

day 15 (october 29th) - begging with charles leclerc | "you look so adorable like this, begging for me."

synopsis - a bad day at work and a good fiance would and will always end well

𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞

day 16 (october 31st) - lingerie with carlos sainz | "turn around, for me hermosa? i want to see the back again."

synopsis - spending 23 grand on a shopping spree? that's something only y/n can do, but of course the money spent will always be worth it, especially when she gets something that can benefit her and carlos

𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞

day 17 (november 2nd) - dacryphilia with ollie bearman | “you’re so pretty with tears in your eyes.”

synopsis

𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞

day 18 (november 4th) - spanking with charles leclerc | "feel that? that's for flirting with fucking team mate."

synopsis

𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞

day 19 (november 6th) - bondage with lewis hamilton | "look at you, all helpless and desperate."

synopsis

𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞

day 20 (november 8th) - ass worship with logan sargeant | “babe, just sit on my face oh my god.”

synopsis

𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞

day 21 (november 10th) - breeding with logan sargeant | "i'm going to fill you up so well baby"

synopsis

𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞

day 22 (november 12th) - orgasm denial with sebastian vettel | “you won’t be cumming, not unless i tell you to.”

synopsis

𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞

day 23 (november 14th) - edging with fernando alonso | "you can't handle this, can you?"

synopsis

𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞

day 24 (november 16th) - voyeurism with oscar piastri | “don’t let my presence stop you, keep going.”

synopsis

𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞

day 25 (november 18th) - nipple play with ollie bearman | “what’s that poking through your shirt?”

synopsis

𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞

day 26 (november 20th) - wax play with charles leclerc | "close your eyes and let me take control, mon cheri. i'll decide where the wax goes."

synopsis

𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞

day 27 (november 22nd) - size difference with ollie bearman | "i want you to feel every vein and every inch of my cock."

synopsis

𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞

day 28 (november 24th) - public sex with oscar piastri | “are you crazy? what if we get caught?”

synopsis

𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞

day 29 (november 26th) - hair pulling with carlos sainz | "you like that don't you?"

synopsis

𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞

day 30 (november 28th) - food play with lewis hamilton | "you taste so fucking sweet baby."

synopsis

𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞

day 31 (november 30th) - oral fixation with daniel ricciardo | "suck on it, show me how much you want it."

synopsis

𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞

[driverlando]

✧.* PR TRAINING: 0%

synopsis- all the times y/n has been horny on main for Logan

before you continue: suggestive content ahead so minors dni! reblog and follow if you enjoyed <3

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

—

logansargeant

liked by yourusername, alex_albon and 64,988 others

logansargeant not a good weekend but we will look ahead to the next race

view all 829 comments

user1 SENDING YOU HUGS 🫶

user2 it’s okay logie bear, we’re all rooting for you 🔥

yourusername sorry you had a bad day, you can touch my boobs if you want

↳ logansargeant that’ll actually help a lot, thank you

↳ oscarpiastri urgh brother urgh

↳ user3 I volunteer as well!!

user4 we love you Logan!! don’t worry!! you’ll do better in the next one

user5 bro looks majestic here

—

—

logansargeantfan

liked by yourusername, user3 and 14,527 others

logansargeantfan I don’t think he realises the power he has over people (me)

view all 526 comments

user6 he got me feeling freaky

↳ yourusername same

yourusername he’s delicious, delectable, luscious, delightful, exquisite, glorious, heavenly, divine, magnificent, fantastic, scrumptious, majestic, mesmerising, captivating, angelic, ethereal, celestial, paradisiacal, magical, enchanting, exquisite, elegant, remarkable, mystical, heavenly, the warmth on pillows, the slight breeze on a sunset, the pinkish purple sky, the stars in the galaxy, the feeling when u actually understand math

↳ user7 thank you for putting my feelings into words

↳ user8 STAND 🫵 UP 🫵 OMG 🫵

user9 need to run my fingers through his hair

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logansargeantupdates

liked by yourusername, user7 and 15,268 others

logansargeantupdates Logan at the gym recently via @/yourusername

view all 628 comments

user10 GOD BLESS AMERICA 🇺🇸🇺🇸🇺🇸🦅🦅🦅💥💥💥

yourusername he sent me this and I had to share it with yall, it’d be a sin not to

↳ user11 this is why you are my favourite wag

↳ user12 thank you for feeding us 😪

user13 major frat boy vibes

yourusername roses are red (usually) and violets are always blue… I want to have his babies

↳ user14 that don’t even- you know what nvm 😭

↳ user15 straight to the point, love that

user16 HIS ARMS!!

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logansargeant

liked by yourusername, oscarpiastri and 90,863 others

logansargeant Tricky day, things are heating up tomorrow

view all 9863 comments

user17 He’s the American George Russell, always shirtless

↳ user17 I’m not complaining btw 😉

user18 Bro, do me a solid and please delete. My wife is on this app, I can’t let her see this.

yourusername things will be heating up between us tonight

↳ logansargeant good

↳ alex_albon get a room

user19 WTF IS A SHIRT 🇺🇸🇺🇸🇺🇸🦅🦅🦅💥💥💥

yourusername can I lick your abs?

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bonus: Oscar disapproves

[bunnienorris]

It has been 36 days since we got to see our American boy, logan sargeant on the track

[bunny-jpeg]

kink-o-ween - day 5

logan sargeant - shower sex

cw: smut/pwp, domestic smut, shower (bath) sex, reverse cowgirl, intimacy, slight body worship & breast play, established relationship

kink-o-ween: formula one edition - call of duty edition

you loved baths. ever since you were a teenager, scampering back from school at the end of a tiring day. you enjoyed the ritual of a bath, everything from the lights lowered to the soft scents of the soaps. while your selection as a teen was the local pharmacy or dollar store. now as an adult, the allure of a lush store sometimes got to you, which only added to your collection of sweet smelling bath items.

and when you started to date logan sargeant, you'd eventually turn him on to baths as well. especially with you.

logan hadn't really had a bath since he was a kid. he was more of a shower man, he loved a good hot shower after a day of racing. to feel the warm spray against his achy skin. but after the miami grand prix and back in the apartment you shared, he was a little more willing to indulge in your little habit of taking a bath.

you giggled a little, "see, it's not horrible." you squirmed a little bit in his lap as you got seated in it. the lights in the bathroom were low, you had lit a candle that was sitting on the sink counter and the room felt muggy in a good way.

your boyfriend kissed your cheek, "i might have to steal some of your things when i go to imola next week. have the guys wonder why i smell like lavender."

you kissed him once more, "it's not the worse smell in the world. it's a hell of a lot better than that one axe smell you bought where it smelled like lighter fluid." he tightened his arms around you and kissed your neck.

logan was an attentive lover. you had to give him credit for that. he always had a keen sense about you that honestly surprised you. you had never dated an athlete before you, but you heard stories. but, even with distance and time zones, he made sure that you knew he was thinking about you. from a photo of a sunset that reminded him of you to a place in some far off place he wanted to take you to sometime. you felt part of his world, even while back in america.

however, having him close physically was the best part. when he was home, he hung over you like a shadow. even now, with his lips at your neck and his arms around you. you felt secure against your lover, even with his cock prodding against your backside.

"i love you." he said softly as he took a small bite into your shoulder.

you moaned and steadied yourself with your hands on the edges of the tub. you replied, "i love you too." and looked over your shoulder. he looked at you and dropped his hands against your waist. you said, knowing where this was going, "we don't have a lot of room."

he replied, "that's fine. i don't mind." then watched you as you spread your legs a little further to allow him to slip his cock in under the bubbly water. you leaned a little forward with your hands on the edges of the tub.

it was hard for him to see past the bubbles to sink into you. but, he knew that feeling like a second skin. the feeling of his beautiful, stunning, amazing, perfect girlfriend sinking down onto his cock. the snug fit made him clench his fists so he didn't react too much. the space was small.

"fuck." he panted. he held onto your hips, feeling your soft skin and the water as he leaned forward to kiss the center of your back. it felt good. you felt good.

then again you always felt good. that wasn't a surprise. he moved his hips a little bit to meet your pace. it wasn't a rapid fire pace. steady rocks of your hips against each other. his kisses lingered onto your skin and he felt hot all over.

the sound of water gently splashing filled the bathroom paired with the echo of your soft moans and heavy breathing. you said to your lover, "logan. shit. honey. you feel so good. it feels like you've gotten bigger since you left. did you do something stupid to your cock." you choked out a small laugh and logan gripped your thigh tightly for a moment which made you clench around his cock.

"i just think you're not as used to me since i've been gone." he kissed the nape of your neck as you continued to move against him. the air of the room grew hotter and even the scent of the bath products felt stronger.

you whined, "well, it's not like i'm going to fuck anyone else. not even my toys feel as good as you feel." you arched your back a little as you felt the pleasure course through your body. it felt so good all over, it made your heartbeat skip with how it all felt.

the water lapped right up against the edge of the tub, threatening to spill over due to your motions. this felt good, good in a way that your nipples felt hard. logan only knew that they were because his large hands started to knead at them lovingly.

"next time." he said, "we're going to do this the right way. i want to see your pretty face and those pretty tits of yours."

"tits?" you giggled as you continued to move up and down his cock, you leaned a little further to get an angle that made you see stars. your eyes closed as you panted heavily. your heart pounded in your chest and the heat radiated off your body.

"yeah, they're pretty. i'm obsessed with them. remember when you wrote my name across them and i almost lost it?" you remembered that fondly and it made you giggle a little. he held onto them tightly, "i'm sorry. you're breasts. you're beautiful breasts." he laughed a little even though the pleasure was deep in his system.

what was the point of fucking a beautiful woman if you couldn't laugh a little. and he would describe your relationship with you as full of laughter. he kissed you once more and continued to move against you. you felt like a dream around him.

he wished he could pack you up and bring you around the world with him. see every corner you could go. but someone needed to finish their graduate program and logan wasn't getting in the way of that. so for now, it would be long distance but, he'd enjoy every second he got to feel close to you.

to be intimate with the woman he loved.

the water splashed over the edge of the tub from your faster movements. you clutched onto the edges of the tub for leverage to make sure that you were working his cock perfectly. logan's cheeks were stained pink. he could feel the leap in his chest as you continued to move against him. even if he couldn't see your face, he knew that it was twisted in pleasure. the wrinkle in your nose as you really got closer to your climax.

you finished first with a loud moan and logan picked up the pace to make sure he reached his climax as well. his cheek pressed against your back as he worked your sweet pussy. his praises for you were heavy and they made you feel warm all over. you felt loved by him, he was your beating heart as he could feel it through your back. the angle you were in felt good even if your knees were a little sore as was his back side from being in the tub for so long.

"fuck." he said as he finished inside of you with one final thrust. he clutched onto your hips to keep you up against him and you both heavily panted together. the swirl of pleasure in the humid bathroom felt good, but left your bodies feeling tacky.

you rested up against him and he wrapped his strong arms around you. he rested his chin against your shoulder and held you. his softening cock still inside of you.

you panted, "well, i guess we have to get clean again."

he sighed dramatically before he kissed you neck softly, "too bad. i like smelling like you. reminds me of home."

"i don't know if lavender can cover up the smell of sex." you giggled.

he held onto you tighter and you squirmed which made water hit the floor beside the tub. he kissed you and said, "well, one way to find out." <3

[no-144444]

mercedes & williams masterlist!

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alex albon

love and lies you and Alex have been fake dating for the sake of the team, then one night changes it all.

when it rains... your week was shit, and you just missed your flight to japan. shit.

george russell

Opposites attract, right? you have a pretty bad track record when it comes to being forgetful...

protection the fight with max reaches a boiling point

signs he needs to start reading minds...

kimi antonelli

taking care kimi takes care of you, in his own special way

breaking up (not making up) you've had it with kimi always putting you second.

right here you realised how much he misses you.

my brother or me? Kimi joins the grid with your brother, and you two stop posting each other on socials, cheating rumours spark, and your new album coming out doesn't help.

I'm alright kimi gets in a crash. you get a fright

chaotic trio how your best mates react when they see you're getting hate online

sports car his sports car doesn't impress you, but he hows he can still make it work

sacrifices everyone has to make sacrifices...

carlos sainz

admin looking for love! Why did Alex Albon feel the need to post you on his story as a ‘lonely woman looking for love’? And why did Carlos Sainz dm you after it? 

choices charles gives you an ultimatum

-> strong ferrari is done with him, you're not.

famous or not everything falls apart?

dive f175 is a new experience, and a confession is shared. (inspo from the song dive by olivia dean!)

heart attack coffee you're the cute barista he flocks to haas to see

purple lace bra he doesn't listen

logan sargent

meetings from the past you and logan reconnect after years apart

accidental injury logan can't look where he's going, too bad he runs straight into you.

lovers in denial you and logan don't get along. or do you?

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navigation for my blog :) (masterlist)

[trashytracktales]

girl reading your logan fic right before my period is doing things to MEEE!! istg I’m desperate. i want to reality shift just to have logan in my bedroom 😔💔

ANYWHO

you could say I’m feeling….freakilicious and i have some smut brainworms…

logan coming back home after a gymsesh all sweaty to find reader sleepy and eventually wake her up w head and body worshipping kisses and praise….and then letting whiny reader cum on his fingers while his hair messily hangs in front of his eyes 🤤🤤🤤 and then sex before just sweet aftercare and a gentle shower 🙏🏼🙏🏼🙏🏼

(if you’re open to writing things like that)

Early sessions | LS²

💌 REQUESTED by anon ──── Reading anything remotely spicy before your period is like pouring gasoline on an already raging fire... God’s strongest soldier, I reckon. Hope this helps, and sorry for the late response 😔🤞🏻

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𐙚 summary ──── Early gym sessions only fuel Logan’s energy, and when he returns home to his girlfriend, sweaty and full of adrenaline, things can only go one way — his.

𐙚 pairing ──── Logan Sargeant x she/her reader

𐙚 rating ──── explicit

𐙚 category ──── F/M

𐙚 warnings ──── 18+, mature/sexual content, fluff & smut, established relationship, descriptive language, swearing, fingering & oral ─ (f)receiving, unprotected sex, mild possessive behavior, overstimulation, playful dynamics.

𐙚 word count ──── 3.1k

𐙚 date ──── Jan. 9, 2025

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

LOGAN’S MORNING WAS quiet so far.

Now, coming back home from training, the sun is just beginning to rise, casting warm streaks of amber light across the polished floors. He always liked the early sessions, when the world was still asleep, and he was the only one sweating at the gym.

His shirt clings to him, soaked with the result of his efforts, and his hair is damp, curling slightly at the ends from sweat. Dropping his keys onto the counter with a soft clink, he toes off his sneakers and heads straight for the bedroom.

Inside, she is still curled up beneath the sheets, her soft breaths barely audible in the stillness. She’s cocooned in the blanket, one bare shoulder peeking out, the gentle rise and fall of her chest confirming she’s lost in her dreams. Logan leans against the doorway for a moment, his chest tightening with a quiet kind of affection; this is his favorite sight.

Logan’s steps are careful as he approaches, the slight creak of the floorboard causing her to stir just a little. He pulls off his damp shirt and tosses it into the laundry basket, running a hand through his messy hair. Cold sweat still clings to his skin, his muscles taut, but he doesn’t care. All he can focus on is her, the way the shy golden light of the morning caresses her skin.

He knows he should go shower, but a tiny thought crosses his mind before he can do anything about it.

Kneeling at the edge of the bed, Logan leans over, brushing a strand of hair away from her face. She doesn’t stir, her lips parting slightly. He smiles, leaning in to press a feather-light kiss to her temple, then to her cheek, and finally to the corner of her mouth. The kisses are tender, each one awakening the fire inside him.

Her breathing shifts, a soft, sleepy murmur escaping her lips as she begins to stir. “Lo? You leaving already?” she asks, her voice laced with confusion and sleep.

In response, his lips trail down her neck, placing gentle, lingering kisses on her collarbone, then lower. The blanket slips down as his hands work to uncover her, his fingers skimming over her bare skin, reverent and calculated.

“No, baby,” he murmurs against her skin, his lips brushing over the curve of her breast. “I just got back.”

“Mhm,” she hums, extending her arms to pull him closer to her, embracing him tightly. “Come here, then, stinky boy.”

He chuckles as he gets up to head toward the bathroom, her teasing voice still ringing in his ears.

“Stinky boy is going to shower first,” says Logan.

But before he can take another step, her hand wraps around his wrist, stopping him in his tracks. He glances back at her, eyebrows raised, but she just tugs him gently toward the bed, her lips curving into a playful smile.

“Did I say I mind?” she asks, her tone soft but laced with intent.

Logan blinks in surprise, a slow grin spreading across his face as she pulls him down onto the bed. “Oh? Guess not,” he rasps, his voice dropping as he leans in closer.

His large, calloused hands start caressing her sides, mapping every curve with devotion as he leans back in to kiss her neck.

“How was, uh, training?” she whines softly, a hint of need lacing her tone.

Logan hums, the sound low and warm, vibrating against her skin. “Missed you,” he confesses, his voice a little more ragged now. “I skipped cardio so I can come back faster.”

“Oh no,” she replies in a bad, dramatic voice, pulling back to look at him, “You should never skip cardio. What kind of example are you setting?”

Logan laughs, his voice playful. “Think you could help me make up for it?”

Her mock outrage melts into a knowing smile, her fingers threading through his hair. She nods slowly, her voice turning softer. “Of course... but only because I’m so generous.”

Her eyes meet Logan’s gaze as he looks down at her, his hair hanging in messy strands over his forehead. For a moment, they just look at each other, her body pliant beneath his touch as his hands skim lower.

“There goes my generous girl,” he praises gently, his voice melting into her as his fingers slide between her legs, parting her folds. He groans softly at the wetness that meets him, the ultimate proof of how much she wants him even in her half-asleep state. “Let’s see just how much.”

“Lo…gan,” her voice breaks as his thumb finds her clit, circling tenderly, sending sparks shooting through her body.

“Yeah? That good, baby?” he soothes, pressing a kiss to her hip.

As a response, her thighs part easily for him, as if her body knows this rhythm instinctively. She’s already so wet it’s obscene, his fingers sliding through her slick folds with almost no resistance. It’s as if he hadn’t fucked her senseless the night before, leaving her trembling and spent in their bed.

“Look at you,” Logan whispers, his breath warm against her skin. His middle finger slips inside her effortlessly, drawing a low, broken moan from her lips. He works her open by patiently curling his finger in just the right way that has her hips rocking up into him.

“More…” she whines, her voice a desperate plea, her nails digging into his damp shoulder. His natural scent is immediately invading her senses, driving her insane.

“More,” he parrots, adding another finger, the stretch making her moan a little louder. “Obsessed with those sounds, baby. But it’s not what you want, is it?”

The wet sounds of his fingers pumping into her mix with the soft cries spilling from her mouth. She clenches tightly around him, her walls fluttering as his thumb grazes her clit in a teasing circle. Her hips grind against his hand, her movements wild and needy, chasing every ounce of pleasure he’s giving her.

“Please, Logan,” she cries, tears pricking at the corners of her eyes as his tongue replaces his thumb, lapping hungrily at her swollen clit.

Her cries only spur him on, the way she tightens her thighs around his head and tugs at his hair sending jolts of heat straight to his cock. He’s already rock hard, his cock straining against his gym shorts as the thought of fucking her warm, wet, and open body consumes him.

“Fuck, you always taste so good,” Logan mumbles against her, the vibrations of his voice making her thighs tremble. “I can’t get enough of you,” he continues, burying his face deeper into her, his fingers moving in tandem with his tongue, driving her higher and higher.

“Oh my—Logan,” she moans, her voice breaking as her walls begin to tighten more rapidly around his fingers. The tension in her body coils tight, her thighs trembling and her breaths coming in short, frantic gasps.

“Yes, baby. That’s it,” he praises, his words muffled against her. “Let me feel you.”

Her release crashes over her, her entire body shaking as her cries fill the room. Her walls squeeze his fingers in a vice-like grip, dripping onto his hand and his chin as she shatters beneath him.

He slows his movements gradually, his tongue and fingers easing her through the aftershocks. When she finally comes back to herself, he pulls back slightly, bringing his hand up to his mouth. His blue eyes lock on hers as he licks his fingers clean, dragging his tongue from base to tip, savoring every drop of her.

“Wanna taste?” asks Logan, offering his fingers.

Her cheeks flush, but she leans forward, wrapping her lips around their slickness. Her tongue swirls around as she cleans them thoroughly, her eyes never leaving his. The intimacy of the moment sends a bolt of heat straight through both of them, their breaths deep and alert.

Logan leans in, capturing her lips in a messy, desperate kiss at the sight of her. Their tongues meet, tasting her on each other, hot and needy, their movements unrestrained, his teeth nipping at her bottom lip as she moans into his mouth. Without breaking the kiss, Logan sits back on his knees, freeing his cock from his shorts; it’s hard and aching, the tip leaking as he strokes himself briefly before lining up with her dripping entrance.

“Still feeling generous?” he asks against her lips, teasing her with shallow thrusts, the head of his cock brushing against her clit before slipping just barely inside.

“Yes… yes, very,” she replies impatiently.

Logan whimpers against her lips, the sound deep and guttural as he presses the head of his cock against her soaked entrance. With one deliberate thrust, he pushes inside, her walls stretching to welcome his length. He breathes heavily at the slick, wet heat of her, his body trembling with restraint as her sensitive pussy clenches around him from the lingering aftershocks of her first orgasm.

“Oh, fuck,” he rasps, his voice wrecked, as he drags himself out slowly, only to push back in, deeper this time. Her tightness grips him perfectly, and every thrust drags along her walls, making her whimper beneath him.

“So full, baby,” she gasps, her voice breathy. Her hands fly to his back, her nails raking across his skin as she clings to him, her body arching to meet every thrust. “Can you, mhm—harder.”

Something snaps inside him at her request. His fingers dig into her hips, lifting her slightly as he starts to move harder, his hips snapping into hers with a force that has her moaning loudly, the sound unabashed and desperate.

“Good enough?” he growls, his tone rough as he watches her fall apart beneath him.

“So good, baby. Don’t stop,” she cries, her nails digging deeper into his skin.

Without warning, Logan flips her onto her stomach, his strength effortless as he pulls her hips up. The shift leaves her breathless, her knees barely holding her up as he guides her into position. He presses a firm palm between her shoulder blades, pushing her chest down into the pillows while angling her hips higher.

“Logan!” she cries in protest. “Don’t—”

“I take care of you, yeah?” Logan cuts her off. “Stay just like that,” he orders, his voice dripping with dominance, and she shivers at the command.

The first thrust from behind has her crying out, her body jolting forward from the force. He grips her waist tightly, pulling her back to meet his thrusts as he sets a punishing pace. The sound of their bodies colliding fills the room, wet and filthy, almost drowned out by her moans and his deep grunts.

“You feel so good,” Logan groans, his fingers pressing into the flesh of her hips, leaving bruises he knows she’ll find later. “So fucking good, baby. You were made for me, it’s maddening.”

Each thrust drives him deeper, his cock hitting spots inside her that have her wailing into the pillows. She can feel him everywhere — thick, hard, and raw as he claims her. The pressure builds again, her entire body tightening as her second orgasm crashes into her without warning.

“Fuck, yes,” she encourages, her walls clamping down around his length as her release soaks them both. “Logan, I—”

“Shit, baby... fuck. You’re dripping all over,” Logan growls, his eyes glued to the way her pussy clenches and pulses around his cock. The sight alone nearly undoes him, his lips parting as if in reverence for the obscene display before him.

He leans over her, his chest pressed to her back as his hand slips beneath her to circle her clit. “My girl,” he whispers into her ear, his breath hot against her skin. “Best I’ve ever fucking had. I could stay inside you forever.”

Her body trembles under him, her moans turning into sobs of pleasure as he thrusts faster, his rhythm growing erratic. His fingers on her clit send her spiraling into overstimulation, her entire body shaking as her release gushes over him again.

“Wait. Lo, I’m—” she whimpers, her voice broken.

“It’s okay, baby. Take it all,” he growls, his hips slamming into her one last time as he spills deep inside her, his cock throbbing with his release. “Every fucking drop, beautiful.”

He stills, his body trembling as he collapses against her for a moment, their breathing heavy and uneven. When he pulls out, her pussy clenches one last time, and she comes again, her body betraying her exhaustion.

“Shit,” Logan swears, his voice thick with awe. He flips her over to face him, brushing damp hair from her face as she lies there trembling. “You’re so sensitive in the morning,” he realizes, his tone equal parts admiration and disbelief.

He leans down, pressing a soft kiss to her lips before slipping his fingers back inside her, collecting the mess they’ve made together. His touch is slow, tender, as if soothing her oversensitive body.

“Lo…” she whispers, her voice shaky as he leans down to kiss her again, this time soft and unhurried. His tongue slides against hers, their kisses messy and intimate as his fingers continue their slow worship.

“All mine, yeah?”

“Mhm,” she agrees, meeting his gaze as his words settle over her.

Logan’s chest swells, a grin playing at the corners of his mouth as he leans down, trailing his lips lower. He kisses along her jawline, down the delicate curve of her neck, and then stops to worship the swell of her breast. His tongue flicks out to trace one of her nipples, drawing a gasp from her as he sucks it gently into his mouth.

“You’re so perfect for me,” he murmurs between warm, wet kisses, his free hand coming up to squeeze her other breast. His thumb brushes over the sensitive peak, sending shivers down her spine. “Letting me fuck you out of your dreams.”

She arches into his touch, her fingers weaving into his hair as he lavishes her with affection. “I’ll always let you fuck me,” she replies, her voice breathy and sincere.

Her words ignite something primal in him, and he groans softly against her skin before lifting his head to capture her lips once more. The kiss is heated but tender, filled with unspoken promises. His tongue slides against hers, coaxing her into a rhythm that leaves them both breathless.

“Are you okay?” he asks softly, breathing wetly above her.

She nods against him, her cheek pressed to the warmth of his skin. “More than okay.”

He shifts slightly, tilting his head to look at her face. “You sure?” he presses gently, his thumb brushing over her shoulder.

She lifts her head to meet his gaze, a smile tugging at her lips. “I promise. I… had a dream about you,” she admits, her voice shy.

His brows lift slightly, intrigue sparking in his eyes. “Hm? Care to elaborate?”

She lets out a soft laugh, her nose brushing against his collarbone as she burrows closer. “Not really. Just you. You were touching me, whispering all those things you say to me, and it felt so real. When I woke up and you were actually there, I guess my body just… responded.”

Logan whimpers quietly, the sound vibrating deep in his chest. “You’re making me jealous of Dream Logan,” he murmurs, pressing a kiss to the top of her head.

She laughs again, her breath warm against his skin. “You should be. He was pretty amazing.”

Logan chuckles, his hand slipping lower to rest on the curve of her hip. “Guess I’ll have to work harder to outdo him,” he teases, his voice warm with affection.

Her laughter fades into a soft hum, and after a beat of silence, she lifts her head to look at him. “Maybe try that in the shower?”

Without giving her an answer, he scoops her up, making her squeal in surprise.

“Logan, I was joking! Put me down!” she protests, though she’s laughing.

He carries her straight into the bathroom, turning on the shower before stepping in with her still in his arms. The blast of cold water makes her yelp, squirming in his grasp. “It’s fucking freezing!” she squeaks, trying to shove him under the spray instead.

He holds her firm, grinning through her protests. “But it’s good for you.”

The water gradually warms, and she relaxes, a sigh escaping her lips as the heat soothes her skin. Logan sets her down gently, grabbing the soap with a soft smile. “Come on, turn around for me,” he speaks in a lower voice, the playfulness giving way to tenderness.

He starts at her neck, his soapy hands gliding over her skin with deliberate care. “Beautiful,” he whispers more to himself than to her. His hands move lower, massaging her shoulders before cupping her breasts, his thumbs brushing over her peaks. She shivers under his touch, but he doesn’t linger, kneeling in front of her.

He continues, carefully washing between her legs, his touch gentle but thorough, his lips trailing kisses along her thighs as he does.

She bites her lip, her cheeks flushing at his reverence. “Lo,” she warns, her voice unsteady.

He looks up, his eyes smoldering. “Just making sure my girl is clean,” he teases before placing one last kiss on the inside of her thigh.

When it’s her turn, she takes her time, tracing her soapy hands over his chest and abs, her fingers lingering on the ridges of his muscles. “Good session,” she teases, grinning as she slides her hands down his back.

“My favorite workout,” he quips, his smirk returning.

“Wake me up tomorrow. Take me with you,” she suggests, circling around him on her tiptoes, her hands ghosting over his hips.

“No,” he replies shortly.

She stops, confused, “No?”

He shakes his head, “They have cameras everywhere. It’ll be pure torture.”

“I promise I’ll behave,” she teases further, her voice steady.

Logan turns quickly, pinning her gently against the cool tile wall, his lips capturing hers in a heated kiss. The steam from the shower surrounds them, but it’s the heat between their bodies that consumes her. She feels him hard against her stomach, his need pressing into her.

“It’s not you I worry about.”

She pulls back just enough to palm him, her fingers wrapping around his length with a teasing squeeze. Logan hisses sharply, his head dropping against her shoulder.

“Turned from stinky boy into horny boy real quick,” she says with a grin, her hand beginning a slow, deliberate rhythm.

His breath catches, and he looks down at her hand before meeting her gaze, his eyes dark with pleasure. “I take that back. It’s you I worry about the most,” he groans, his voice rough, but the way his lips curl into a satisfied smile tells her he doesn’t mind at all.

PREVIOUS LS² ONE-SHOT

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[theonottsbxtch]

WHEN THE CITY FALLS | OP81/LS2

an: hello! so this is what ive been cooking up behind your backs recently, a 14k logan? oscar? fic i dont exactly know who the love intrest is per say but its a spiderman!oscar au. so enjoy this story as it has taken a long long time to write lol

wc: 14.8k

summary: three close friends drift apart when one disappears for two years and returns with wealth, ambition, and a dangerous invention. as his creation spirals out of control, the city teeters on the edge of destruction. in the chaos, hidden truths emerge, and one of them may be the only hope left to stop it.

NEW YORK IN THE WINTER WAS ALWAYS A LITTLE CRUEL. The wind rolled in off the river with a bitterness that got under your skin, finding the gaps between scarves and sleeves, and the sky sat heavy above the skyline like it had nowhere else to go. Snow hadn't fallen yet, not properly, but there was the threat of it in the air, sharp and metallic, like something unsaid.

She stood at the corner of Delancey and Ridge, boots damp from the puddles left by yesterday’s half-hearted rain, a coffee gone cold in her gloved hands. Across the street, the lights of a bodega buzzed with the familiar, uninviting warmth of too-bright fluorescents. She could hear someone shouting in Spanish two blocks down, the rumble of the subway far beneath her feet, and above it all, the ceaseless, aching pulse of the city.

Logan used to say New York had a heartbeat. That you could feel it if you were quiet enough. But Logan was never quiet for long.

She hadn't seen him in months.

Not properly, anyway.

Logan Sargeant had always been too much. Too sharp, too quick, too beautiful in the kind of way that hurt to look at for too long. He’d grown into a man that mirrored the city. Cold on the outside, burning with something dangerous just beneath the surface. Blond hair, now cut short, framed eyes too blue to be kind. His childhood had carved out pieces of him, taken soft things and turned them to steel. And still, for a long time, he’d been theirs, hers and Oscar’s. Until he wasn’t.

Oscar Piastri was different. Always had been. Quiet, but not shy. He had the sort of presence that didn’t need to announce itself. A boy with calloused fingers from too many sketchbooks and eyes that saw more than they ever let on. He still lived two floors above her in the same battered brownstone they’d all grown up in, still fixed her leaky taps when she asked, still brought her takeout when she forgot to eat. Sweet, reliable Oscar. But even he was changing, these days.

There were nights he didn’t come home. Cuts he didn’t explain. That distant look she caught in the reflection of a window, right before he smiled and asked her how her day had been.

Everything was shifting, and she could feel it, like standing on the edge of something vast, something waiting to fall apart.

She remembered a time when the three of them had belonged to each other. Summers on rooftops with cheap beer and even cheaper laughter. Nights spent stargazing through fire escapes, hands brushing by accident. Secrets shared like promises.

But that was before Logan disappeared for two years. Before he came back stranger than before—richer, smarter, colder. Before Oscar started vanishing into alleyways and coming back with bruises and excuses.

Now, something hung between all of them. Not quite memory, not quite betrayal.

And she was standing in the middle of it, still hoping, naively, foolishly, that maybe she could hold the pieces together.

Even as they splintered around her.

The wind changed, and she caught the distant clang of scaffolding in motion, another high-rise going up on the Lower East Side, another piece of sky eaten by glass and ambition. She turned down a narrow street flanked by graffiti-covered brick and bins overflowing with city decay, the coffee still untouched in her hand.

There were footsteps behind her: light, familiar.

"You're late," she said, without turning.

Oscar fell into step beside her, his jacket dusted with street grime, hood drawn up against the wind. There was something restless in the way he moved, like his skin didn't quite fit anymore.

"Sorry," he murmured, giving her a sheepish glance. "Had to... help someone out."

She didn't press. Not anymore. The last time she’d asked, he’d lied with a smile that didn’t reach his eyes.

"You look like you've been in a fight," she said instead, eyeing the faint bruise along his jaw.

He gave a quiet laugh. "You should see the other guy."

It was a joke, but it didn’t land. The silence that followed was too familiar. Worn in, like old denim.

She paused at a crosswalk, watching as a cab tore through a red light like the rules didn’t apply. That was the thing about New York. It moved too fast for second chances.

"I ran into Logan yesterday," Oscar said, and the words hit like ice down the spine.

She turned slowly, the name sitting between them like a fault line.

"Where?"

"Midtown. He was just... there. Like he hadn’t disappeared for two years. Wearing some tailored coat and that look he gets when he knows something you don’t."

That look. She knew it too well. The one that made you feel like a puzzle he’d already solved and was just humouring.

Oscar shoved his hands into his pockets, jaw clenched. "He said he wanted to talk. Said he was back for good this time."

"Do you believe him?"

Oscar didn’t answer right away. When he did, it was soft. Tired.

"I don’t know. He’s not the same."

Neither are you, she thought, but didn’t say it.

They walked the next block in silence. It was colder now, the clouds thickening, and her coffee had definitely gone bad. Still, she didn’t let go of it. Something about the weight of it grounded her.

"He asked about you," Oscar said suddenly, his tone unreadable.

Her throat tightened. "What did you say?"

"That you were still here. Still... you."

She looked away. That word felt fragile these days. Like it didn’t mean what it used to.

They stopped outside her building, the stoop still half-covered in yellow leaves that no one had bothered to sweep. The same chipped door. The same rusted letterbox. A world still standing while everything else was quietly coming undone.

Oscar hesitated, eyes lingering on her face like he was memorising it.

"Be careful, yeah?" he said.

"With Logan?"

He gave a short nod.

She wanted to ask him what he knew. What he suspected. But the city was humming again, loud and unrelenting, and she felt suddenly very small beneath it.

Oscar left her with a quiet goodbye and the echo of footsteps on cracked pavement.

She stood there a while longer, staring up at the sky as the first snow began to fall, soft, almost shy, like the city had remembered how to be gentle.

But she knew better.

Some storms didn’t come with thunder.

They came wearing familiar faces.

The lift in her building had been broken since August. The landlord kept saying it was “on the list,” but she wasn’t sure he even knew what a list was. So she climbed the stairs. Twelve floors, each one creaking like it might finally give in under her boots.

By the tenth, her breath was shallow, and her limbs ached with the kind of fatigue that had nothing to do with the stairs. She reached the twelfth landing, paused to collect herself, and then pushed open the heavy fire door.

He was there.

Leaning against the railing of the communal balcony like he'd never left. Like he hadn't vanished without warning and taken something irreplaceable with him. The skyline was a blurred grey behind him and for a second she almost saw the boy he'd been. Grinning, brilliant, with a laugh that carried across rooftops.

"Thought I heard someone dragging their feet up here," Logan said without turning, his voice still that maddening blend of silk and smirk.

She crossed her arms, wary. "You're not supposed to be up here. They locked this level last year after the whole scaffolding incident."

He looked over his shoulder at her, blue eyes lit with mischief and something darker. "Good to know some things never change. You, playing by the rules."

"And you, breaking them."

He laughed, low and easy, and it stung how much of her still responded to that sound.

"Come on," he said, pushing off the railing and walking towards her, hands in the pockets of a coat that looked expensive, like everything he owned now. "I haven’t seen you in how long, and that’s the greeting I get?"

She tilted her head. "You’re lucky you’re getting anything at all."

He stopped in front of her, closer than comfort allowed, and for a breath she thought he might apologise. But Logan Sargeant had never been good with guilt. He just looked at her like he was still trying to work her out, still trying to stay two steps ahead.

"You look the same," he murmured. "Only sharper. Like the city’s finally caught up with you."

"And you look like you just stepped out of a stock portfolio."

He grinned. "Guilty. I’ve done alright for myself."

She narrowed her eyes. "Doing what, exactly?"

He glanced away, then back, the grin fading into something more deliberate. Calculated.

"That’s actually why I’m here."

"Right. You didn’t just come back to loiter on rooftops and haunt old friends."

He chuckled again, but it didn’t reach his eyes. "I’ve been working on something. A project. Something big."

She didn’t answer, just waited, still as the concrete beneath them.

"It’s tech," he continued, leaning on the railing again, gaze drifting out over the city. "Osc—well, he wouldn’t get it. He’s got his whole... moral compass thing going. But you always saw things clearer."

"You mean I didn’t try to stop you when you crossed lines."

"No," he said, with a flash of sincerity. "You understood why I crossed them."

That silenced her.

"I need someone who can help me with the neurological interface part," Logan said after a pause. "It’s experimental. Military-adjacent, but I’m reworking the design. Smarter, more elegant. I’ve hit a wall."

"And you thought of me."

He looked at her again. This time, there was no smirk. Just that boy she used to know, hidden somewhere behind too many sleepless nights and bad decisions.

"I never stopped thinking about you."

The lights flickered above them, a thousand pinpricks in the corridor.

"I’ll send you the specs," he said, without much more, heading toward the stairwell. "Just have a look. That’s all I’m asking."

He paused at the door.

"I missed you."

Then he was gone.

And she stood there alone with her cold coffee and thoughts, because the boy she’d loved was still in there somewhere.

But something else was growing in him, too.

Something dangerous.

Her flat still smelled faintly of jasmine and burnt toast. Comfort and chaos in equal measure. She tossed her keys onto the counter, kicked off her boots, and tried not to think about how Logan had sounded when he said I missed you.

She failed, obviously.

The email came in not long after she’d switched on the little lamp by the sofa, its warm glow chasing away the creeping dusk. Subject line: Interface: concept files. No message, just the attachment. Classic Logan. All mystery, no manners.

She hesitated before opening it. Something in her gut twisted, instinct honed over years of knowing when things seemed fine but weren’t. Still, curiosity had always been her fatal flaw, and Logan had always known how to wield it.

The file was... extensive. Schematics, neural maps, prototype visuals. It wasn’t just “tech.” It was weaponry. Not in the conventional sense, but in potential. A sleek glider prototype integrated with AI feedback loops. A cognitive synchronisation helmet that could read and respond to neural signals in real time. And then there were notes in the margins, written in Logan’s exacting hand.

Emotional override needed. Current model reacts too strongly to fear.

Must correct aggression triggers. Still too unpredictable. Or not?

User = control. No limits. No interference.

Her heart beat faster the more she read.

It was brilliant. Unquestionably. Years ahead of what most companies were developing. But there was a coldness to it, a ruthlessness she didn’t recognise. Or maybe she did, and just hadn’t wanted to see it before.

She pushed the laptop away, stood, started pacing. There’d been late-night conversations once, Logan talking about power, about how the world didn’t reward kindness, about how if he had control, things would be different. Better. He’d laughed when she called him dramatic. Said she didn’t get it.

Maybe she hadn't.

Until now.

A knock rattled the door. Sharp. Three taps.

Her heart lurched, she didn’t know why, but she opened it without checking the peephole.

Oscar stood there. Hoodie up. Eyes wide.

“You saw him,” he said.

She nodded.

“He gave you something, didn’t he?”

She stepped back silently, let him in. He stalked to the kitchen like he lived there, which, in some ways, he always had.

“I didn’t open it right away,” she said, like it mattered.

Oscar didn’t look at her. His jaw was tight.

“He’s not just back to catch up,” he said. “He’s working with people. Dangerous ones.”

“How do you know?”

He finally turned, and there it was, that look again. Like he’d seen too much. Like he was balancing on a knife’s edge between exhaustion and something heavier.

“Because I followed him last night,” he admitted. “I saw him meeting with Oscorp defectors. People no one good wants to be seen with. And I found this.”

He pulled something from his jacket, crumpled, faintly singed. A test printout. Identical design language to the file on her screen. Same logo Logan had tried to scrub from the schematics. Only this version had a name scrawled across the top.

“Project Harpy.”

She stared. “Harpy?”

Oscar nodded grimly. “Old military codename. The original model was meant for field destabilisation, crowd control through terror. They scrapped it. Too unstable. Logan’s trying to rebuild it.”

She sat down, hard.

“So what do we do?” she whispered.

Oscar’s expression darkened. “We stop him.”

But she wasn’t sure if he meant to stop the project.

Or stop Logan.

She didn’t speak for a long time.

She just let Oscar talk while he moved around the kitchen like he needed to, like stillness might swallow him whole. He talked of what they could do with liminal information until the sunset. He had poured two mugs of tea even though she hadn’t asked, but at no point did she talk about the file, until she did.

The sun began to set through her small window when she pointed at her screen.

“He’s not building a weapon,” she said eventually. “Not just that. It’s like he’s building himself into it.”

Oscar’s brow furrowed. “What do you mean?” She hesitated. The words were thick in her throat. “He used to talk about it. Control. Power. Not having to be afraid anymore.” Oscar leaned against the side of the sofa, his shoulders taut. “He was afraid. All the time. You know that.”

“I know,” she said. Quiet. “I was there.” And suddenly she was back there. Fourteen, rain on the fire escape, Logan shaking with cold and rage after another row with his dad, her arms around him, his whisper against her skin: Don’t let go. Promise you won’t let go.  (By the way the devilish idea i have for this part)

And she hadn’t.

Not until he made her.

Oscar watched her carefully. Like he saw too much and said too little.

“You cared about him.” It wasn’t a question.

She didn’t deny it. She didn’t look at him either.

“It wasn’t just friendship,” she said finally. “But it never became anything, not really. Just moments.”

Oscar nodded slowly, like he was memorising the shape of that hurt. He didn’t push. He never did. 

“You should get some rest,” he said. His voice was gentler now. “You’ve been up since early this morning, and this isn’t something we’ll figure out in one night.”

She didn’t argue. Her limbs were heavy, and the anxiety had started to settle somewhere deep in her chest, too wide to dislodge. Still, when she walked toward the bedroom, Oscar followed, like it was the most natural thing in the world.

It had happened before. Sleepless nights and old films, falling asleep shoulder to shoulder on the sofa when the city felt too loud. This was just that again. Except it wasn’t.

He hesitated at the door.

"You sure?" he asked, quiet.

She nodded. "Yeah. I don’t want to be alone tonight."

And he didn’t say anything more. Just stepped inside and laid down on the far side of the bed, facing the ceiling. There was space between them. Not enough, not really.

She lay on her side, back to him, staring at the wall.

Her mind was still on Logan.

On the way he’d looked at her, like she was still his. The way he’d said ‘I missed you’ and made it sound like a promise and a warning at once.

He wasn’t just back with a plan. He was back with purpose. And she knew, deep in her bones, that he’d find a way to use what they’d shared. Twist it. Weaponise it, like everything else.

Oscar shifted behind her. She could feel the warmth of him, the rise and fall of his breathing.

He didn’t touch her. Didn’t try to.

But there was something unspoken in the air between them, like maybe he wanted to. Like maybe he had for a long time.

She closed her eyes.

And all she could see was Logan.

The morning came grey and low, clouds pressed against the windows like the city itself couldn’t quite wake up.

She blinked against the dull light, the bedsheets twisted around her legs. The other side of the bed was empty, cold already. Oscar was gone.

She sat up slowly, brushing her hair from her face, the weight of the night before still knotted in her chest. For a moment, she let herself wonder if she’d imagined him being there at all, just another ghost in an apartment full of them.

When she stepped out into the front room, the kettle was cooling down. A cup of tea waited in the microwave, hastily made, eliciting a small chuckle out of her. He’d always done the same thing in the past couple of months.

From the corridor she could hear her neighbour’s cat meowing for access to the balcony. She walked to the front door, turned the bolt then pulled, only to get halted by the chain still being on. 

She frowned.

Oscar couldn’t have left that on from the inside. Not unless…

She stopped herself. Told herself he’d maybe left through the fire escape even though he knew it was dangerous. 

But something about it itched at the edge of her thoughts.

Brushing it off, she let the cat out and walked back into the kitchen, pulling out the cold tea, not bothering to heat it.

Logan’s file still sat open on her laptop, the schematics staring back at her like a dare. She skimmed them again—lines and circuits, symbols she recognised from years of university lectures, annotated with little notes only someone who knew her would write.

You always hated redundancies. Fixed it for you.

Bet you’d tell me this is idiotic. (You’re probably right.)

It was the kind of thing he used to do. Tease. Impress. Show off. It used to make her laugh. Now it made her heart sit wrong in her chest.

She walked up to the laptop and noticed something she hadn’t earlier, then she grabbed her coat.

Fuck looking like a normal human being, she thought.

Then in her head she heard sixteen year old Logan in her head, “Who would even care if I walked out the house in my boxers, we’re in New York!”

The note had an address, the building across town where her and Logan went when Oscar was working. An old sublet on East 19th. Classic Logan.

She told herself she was only going to get answers, that she wasn’t seeking him out. 

The streets were quieter than usual. Maybe the weather had kept people in bed longer. Or maybe the city was holding its breath. 

She reached the building just after eight. Tall, red brick, windows like hollow eyes. The lift here did work, and she took it up to the aforementioned floor, her heart shuddering harader with every number that ticked past. It wasn’t normal for an office this big to be so empty.

When the doors opened, he was already waiting.

Like he’d known she’d come.

“Morning, love,” Logan said, barefoot, tousle haired, mug in hand. He looked too at ease in this makeshift studio. “Miss me already?” She stepped out slowly, ignoring the flutter in her chest. “Where is everyone?”

He tilted his head. “Funny thing about abandoned buildings. They tend to be, well. Abandoned.”

“You’re working out of this?” she asked, eyebrows lifting. “Seems dramatic, even for you.”

He took a sip of his coffee, unbothered. “Bit of peace and quiet does wonders. Besides…” He leaned against the doorframe, gaze trailing down her like a memory. “Nice of you to drop in first thing in the morning. Makes it less lonely.”

“You’re working out of this?” she asked, raising a brow. “Seems dramatic, even for you.”

He took a sip of his coffee, completely unbothered. “Bit of peace and quiet does wonders. Besides…” His gaze flicked over her, slow and deliberate. “Nice of you to drop in first thing in the morning. Makes it less lonely.”

She folded her arms. “You left that address on purpose.”

Logan didn’t deny it. Just smiled. “Wasn’t sure you’d catch it. But I figured if you did, you’d come.”

“I came for answers.”

“No, you came because you’re curious,” he said, stepping back into the open space of the studio. “Same as always. You can’t help yourself.”

She looked to her left where she could hear some whirring. The makeshift lab was cleaner than she expected, industrial, minimal. Wires looped neatly along the floor, diagrams pinned in lines along the concrete wall. In the centre, the table buzzed softly with low-power tech, a prototype glinting in the low light like something half-born.

She walked past him, slowly, keeping her distance. “Oscar said you’ve lost it.”

Logan gave a low laugh. “Oscar’s always needed someone to blame. You know that.”

“He’s not wrong about this.”

He came to stand beside her, not too close, just enough that she could feel the heat off him. His voice lowered.

“But you didn’t turn away either, did you?”

She looked down at the schematics spread across the table. Her fingers itched to move the pieces around, rearrange the formulae like puzzle pieces, solve it before he could ruin it.

“I’m not saying it’s safe,” she murmured. “But if I help you. If I take charge of the framework, maybe it doesn’t have to be dangerous.”

His smile deepened. “There’s the girl I remember.”

She shot him a sharp look, but he only stepped closer.

“I don’t need saving, you know,” he said, voice softening. “You’re not here to fix me. You’re here because part of you gets it. Part of you wants this.”

She swallowed. “Don’t do that.”

“Do what?”

“Make it sound like we’re on the same side.”

“But we are,” he said, and this time his hand brushed hers as he reached past her, innocent, almost, except for the way his fingers lingered. “You wouldn’t be here otherwise.”

She could feel the pull of him then, quiet and dangerous, like gravity had changed its mind about how the world worked. Her skin was humming with it.

“I knew you’d come around,” he whispered.

Her breath caught, just for a second. His face was close now, the warm edge of his smile only inches from hers. Not cocky. Not smug. Something gentler. A softness that wasn’t supposed to be there.

And that’s what made it dangerous.

She should have stepped back.

That would’ve been the smart thing, the right thing. But her feet didn’t move, and neither did his, and between them was a silence that thrummed with everything unsaid.

Logan's eyes searched hers, not in that arrogant way he used to do when he knew he had the upper hand, but quieter. Something unreadable settled behind his lashes. Like he was trying to remember the shape of her from the inside out.

"You’re shaking," he murmured, voice barely above a breath.

She wasn’t. Not really. Just, wired. Overcaffeinated without the caffeine. Her nerves pulling taut in ways they hadn’t in years.

"No, I’m not."

"You are," he said, and there was something close to amusement in his voice, but not cruel. Just observant. Just Logan. "You always do, when you’re trying to make a decision too fast."

She looked down. At his hand on the table beside hers. At the blue glow of the screen reflecting off the metal. Her voice came out smaller than she meant it to.

"You don’t get to do that. Pretend like nothing’s changed."

His head tilted slightly. "Who’s pretending?"

"You left." She met his gaze again, steadier now. "You disappeared and let us believe—"

"I didn’t want you part of it," he said quickly, not sharply, but with a force that startled her. "You and Oscar. You still see the world like it’s got rules. I see it for what it really is."

"You think that makes you better?"

"No." He paused. "I think it makes me prepared."

She stared at him. "You’re planning something you can’t undo."

He didn’t argue. Just leaned in slightly, enough that his breath hit the edge of her cheek. “Maybe. But if you’re there to build it with me, then maybe it won’t need undoing.”

The worst part was, a part of her understood. Not agreed. But understood.

And that part of her wanted to reach for the plans. To take the mess he’d made and drag it into something better. Safer. Less like him.

Her throat was tight. “This isn’t fair.”

"What isn’t?"

"You. Doing this." Her hands balled into fists. "Looking at me like that."

He smiled again, soft. Painful. “Like what?”

“Like you’re still sixteen and I’m still stupid enough to believe you'd never hurt me.”

That landed. She saw it flicker through him, fast, behind his eyes.

“I never meant to,” he said quietly.

Silence fell again, sharp-edged and too loud.

Then, softer this time, gentler: “You don’t have to say yes right now. Just don’t walk away.”

She should. She should. But instead she found herself sitting on the edge of the table, just beside him, her shoulder brushing his.

She didn’t look at him. “This doesn’t mean anything.”

“Sure,” he said, a little laugh curling under the word. “Of course not.”

His thigh pressed lightly against hers. The contact was nothing. Barely there.

The distance between them had dissolved without her noticing, and now it was all heat and unspoken things sitting heavy between them.

The blue light of the schematics cast soft shadows across his jaw. He looked almost gentle like this, in the stillness. Almost.

And then her phone buzzed in her pocket, she pulled it out.

They both glanced down at the screen.

Oscar.

She froze.

Logan looked too, and smirked. “Well, well. Speak of the boy scout.”

She hesitated, thumb hovering over the screen.

“You should answer,” Logan said, casual, but something about the way he leaned back slightly told her he was watching very, very closely.

She swiped to pick up, bringing the phone to her ear. Her voice came out thin, too even. “Hey.”

“Where are you?” Oscar’s voice was immediate. Concerned. “I’m at yours, doors open but unless you’re hiding from me I can't find you.”

She glanced sideways, heart pounding. Logan had turned away, giving her space, but not really. His head was tilted just enough to hear every word.

“I’m getting bagels,” she said quickly. “Sorry. Forgot my phone was in my pocket.”

A beat. Oscar didn’t sound suspicious, just soft. “You okay?”

“Yeah. Just… needed air. I’ll be back soon.”

“Okay,” he said. “I’ll wait.”

She hung up before he could say anything else. The quiet in the room returned like a blanket pulled too tight.

Logan turned back to her, expression unreadable.

Then he reached out, slowly, fingertips brushing a strand of hair behind her ear before trailing lightly down to her cheek. The touch was maddeningly soft. Familiar.

“Some things never change,” he murmured, thumb grazing her skin. “You’re still covering for me.”

Her breath caught. She was furious at the way her chest responded to it.

“I used to cover for you when you skipped school or snuck out past curfew,” she said, voice sharp. “Or when your dad came asking where you were and I had to lie to his face.”

“This isn’t that,” he said, quiet now. “I know.”

She looked away, jaw tight. “Don’t make this something it’s not.”

His hand dropped, but the air still felt like it was holding its breath.

“I don’t have to,” he said simply. “You’re already here.”

Two weeks passed, just like that.

The city moved around her, traffic and sirens and steam rising from manhole covers, but it all felt quieter somehow. Like her world had shrunk down to two flats, a laptop, and a dozen unsent texts.

She was spending her mornings at Oscar’s, helping him track down fluctuations in the local power grid, strange pulses he swore weren’t natural, though he never quite said what he thought they were. Afternoons were spent in Logan’s repurposed studio, surrounded by circuitry, algorithms, and a headache that wouldn’t quite go away.

She told herself she was keeping both of them from doing something stupid.

Logan’s work had evolved. Rapidly. Too rapidly, if she was honest. The first few days were just sorting through the wreckage of what he’d built alone, poor shielding, over-ambitious neural syncing, feedback loops that would’ve fried the average person’s spine.

She’d streamlined it. Quietly, carefully. Introduced control parameters, adjusted the safety thresholds. He let her, too. Even seemed to enjoy having her close, watching over his shoulder like she was the only one who could keep him steady.

Sometimes he didn’t even say anything, just looked at her like he was memorising the way she moved.

Other times, he flirted like it was breathing.

“I still think the copper’s a bad call,” she muttered one afternoon, squinting at the prototype’s inner casing.

“Still bossy, I see,” Logan replied, crouching beside her. “Haven’t changed since you used to correct my spelling.”

“I was right then, too.”

He laughed, low and warm. “Yeah. You usually are.”

He was close again. He always was. There was always a reason for him to lean in, reach past her, touch her arm or shoulder in a way that felt like an accident and wasn’t.

And she let him. She told herself it didn’t mean anything. That this was about control. Keeping him from spiralling.

But when he looked at her, sometimes it felt like the ground wasn’t solid beneath her feet.

Meanwhile, Oscar…

Oscar had started keeping things from her.

She noticed it first in the small things. His laptop slammed shut when she walked in. A folder buried too deep in his hard drive. The time he said he was on a walk but came home bruised and didn’t explain why.

She didn’t push, not yet. But it stuck to her, that unease. Oscar didn’t lie. He never lied.

And that, somehow, made it worse.

“You’re working too hard,” he told her one night, curled up on her sofa, hoodie pulled over his head. “You haven’t had a proper meal in days.”

“I’m fine.”

“You’re not. I can see it.”

He passed her a takeaway container without a word. She took it. Ate. Didn’t mention the thin layer of grime under his fingernails or the split on his knuckle.

She couldn’t be in two places at once. Couldn’t keep playing translator between two boys who wouldn’t speak to each other, both of them caught in some war she didn’t fully understand.

But she stayed.

Because part of her believed she could still save this—save them.

Even if it cost her something she hadn’t yet named.

The prototype pulsed with light now. Not constant—irregular, like a heartbeat gone wrong.

She sat on the floor of Logan’s studio, cables tangled at her knees, half a dozen failed failsafes spread out in a messy sprawl beside her. The heat off the core was stronger than it had been yesterday. Too strong.

“You pushed it again,” she muttered, pulling off her jumper and tossing it aside. The room felt like a greenhouse.

Logan crouched beside the desk, tools in hand, utterly unbothered. “Tweaked the resonance field. It’s stabilising, relax.”

“No, it isn’t,” she snapped. “You’re running through safeguards faster than I can write them.”

He looked over his shoulder at her, smirking. “Don’t sound so impressed.”

She didn’t answer. She was too busy running diagnostics on the regulator he’d overclocked while she was out yesterday. Again.

“Logan, if this field collapses, you’re not walking away. I won’t be able to stop it next time.”

His smile faltered, just slightly.

“You could always walk,” he said after a beat, soft.

She didn’t reply. Couldn’t.

Because he knew she wouldn’t.

That night at Oscar’s, she barely spoke. She sat at the window while he worked on his computer behind her, typing fast, a faint tremor in his right hand. She stared down at the streetlights blurring in the rain, her thoughts still half in the lab.

Oscar’s phone buzzed. He glanced at it, frowned, then stood.

“I’ll be back in a bit.”

She looked over. “Now?”

“Yeah. Just need to check on something near the subway. Weird power spike.” He shrugged on his jacket.

“Want help?”

He hesitated. “No. It’s… not that kind of thing.”

She nodded slowly. “You’ve been saying that a lot lately.”

Oscar didn’t respond.

She found the first real clue two days later.

She was at hers, rummaging for the spare charger Oscar kept leaving behind, when she noticed his hoodie hanging on the back of her chair. Not unusual. But when she picked it up, something dropped out of the pocket.

A small, torn scrap of red fabric. Coarse. Like something from a costume.

And blood. Dried.

Her stomach turned.

In Logan’s studio, the tech was louder now. Humming, thrumming. Hungry.

“You need to slow down,” she said firmly, voice hoarse from too many sleepless nights.

He looked at her, really looked, and for a second there was a flicker of something that unsettled her.

“I can’t,” he said. “We’re so close.”

“Close to what?”

He didn’t answer.

She opened the interface, scanning the data. “You adjusted the neuro-link sequence without telling me.”

“I knew you’d try to stop me,” he said simply.

She stared at him. “That’s not how this works.”

“It is now.”

And still she didn’t leave.

The following night she didn’t sleep.

Not really.

Between the hum of Logan’s project, now an ever-present pressure at the base of her skull, and Oscar’s half-answers, dodged questions, and suspicious bruises, sleep had become more theory than reality.

The next time she saw Oscar, it was because she followed him.

She hadn’t meant to. She told herself she was just walking the same way. That she was being ridiculous. That the scrap of red in his hoodie pocket meant nothing.

But then he ducked down an alley. Pulled something from under his hoodie.

A mask.

Her heart stopped.

Not metaphorically. Actually, stopped.

She stepped back, too fast, her heel scuffing the concrete. A tiny sound. He heard it.

“Hello?” Oscar turned, eyes narrowing behind the red half-mask. The rest was still bunched in his hand.

She froze.

He stared. She stared back.

Silence swelled.

Then, quietly: “…You followed me?”

She didn’t know what to say. Didn’t know how to breathe, let alone speak.

Oscar’s shoulders dropped. His hand dragged down his face. “Shit.”

“You’re Spider-Man.”

It wasn’t a question. She already knew. Knew in the pit of her stomach, where every late night and bruised knuckle and sudden disappearance made a sick kind of sense.

He didn’t deny it. Just looked at her, gutted.

“I was going to tell you.”

“When?” Her voice was sharp. “Before or after I found your blood all over my living room?”

Oscar winced. “I didn’t want to put you in danger—”

She laughed. Bitter. “Bit late for that.”

She left before he could explain more. She couldn’t hear it, not then. Not while her phone buzzed again with another update from Logan’s build log, another late-night adjustment she hadn’t signed off on.

When she got back to the studio that night, the air felt wrong. Too charged.

The prototype was alive now. She didn’t know what else to call it. It moved, pulsed, responded.

Logan was there, barefoot, sleeves rolled up, eyes wild with possibility.

“You’re back,” he said, barely glancing away from the display. “Look at it. It’s listening to me now.”

“It’s not supposed to listen to you,” she snapped, storming in. “It’s supposed to run on code, not instinct.”

He shrugged, unapologetic. “I rewrote the framework.”

“You rewrote the laws of physics, Logan. That wasn’t the deal.”

He finally looked at her. Really looked. And for the first time in days, he frowned.

“What’s wrong?”

“You’re asking me now?” she snapped. “After pushing this thing to near-collapse? After locking me out of your logs for twelve hours?”

“I knew you’d try to stop me.”

“You don’t get to cut me out and still act like we’re on the same team.”

The lights on the core flared, hot, blue-white. She stepped back.

“This isn’t what we started,” she said, quieter. “You’re not building something. You’re becoming it.”

Logan’s eyes softened, but it didn’t comfort her. It made her skin crawl.

“You sound like him.”

“Don’t,” she said.

“Why? He’s the hero now, yeah?” Logan’s voice was almost calm, but it carried teeth. “Little Mr Boy Scout. You going to run to him now? Tell him how to stop me?”

“I didn’t run to anyone. I tried to fix this.”

He stepped closer. Too close.

“But you knew. All this time, you knew you’d have to choose.”

She didn’t answer.

Because he was right.

And she hated that more than anything.

She didn’t remember getting home.

Her keys had slipped once at the door, hands shaking, and she’d stood in the hall for a full minute before trying again. Inside, the apartment felt alien, like she was walking through someone else’s life. Same chipped mugs in the sink. Same plant in the corner. But her breath wouldn’t steady.

She dropped her bag in the hallway, still half-zipped. Kicked off her shoes. Didn’t even bother with the lights.

She collapsed onto the sofa, knees to her chest, arms wrapped tight like she could physically hold herself together.

Then the tears came.

Silent at first. Just that awful stinging behind her eyes, the kind that made you clench your jaw until it ached. But then they spilled—fast and hot, her face buried in the sleeve of her hoodie, sobs breaking loose in sharp bursts.

She cried for Logan. For Oscar. For the version of herself that used to laugh when they bickered and dreamed about changing the world.

She cried because she didn’t know who to save anymore. Or if she could.

And eventually, exhausted, she crawled into bed and let the darkness take her.

Somewhere else in the city, Logan didn’t sleep.

He stood in the centre of his makeshift lab, hands trembling slightly with the excitement. He had done it. He had done it.

The prototype was alive. The neural interface he’d spent weeks perfecting hummed quietly beneath his fingertips. Every line of code he’d written, every sleepless night, all the warnings he’d ignored—he could feel it now, like a rush of euphoria. It was working. It was all working.

The helmet sat next to him, sleek, matte-black, perfect in its design. But that wasn’t the prize. No, the real victory was the neural link, the thing embedded deep into his spine now, fusing with him. The prototype wasn’t just a tool anymore. It was an extension of him. It was him.

He grinned, sliding the helmet onto his head with a steady hand. The system activated almost immediately, a soft pulse across his temples as the neural interface kicked in. He could feel it, like a second mind connecting with his own, feeding him streams of data in a way he'd never known before.

For a moment, there was only clarity. Pure, untainted clarity. He could see everything, every problem, every solution, unfolding right before him like an intricate map.

Logan’s breath was slow and deep, taking it all in.

“This is it,” he muttered under his breath, a satisfied grin spreading across his face. “I’m better than I’ve ever been.”

But something shifted in that moment. The device, still humming beneath his skin, pulsed again. Stronger. A sharp, sudden sensation rippled through his back as if a small surge of electricity shot through his spine. He flinched, but only briefly. It was... new. But it didn’t hurt. No, it was something else. Something... right. He wanted to feel it again. To keep pushing, to see how far it could go.

He let the neural link go further, feeling it sync even deeper. His movements were faster now, every thought sharper, more precise. His hands moved on their own accord, as if his body had learned a new language, a secret code he hadn’t known existed.

Then, with a sickening click, the mechanism inside him did something unexpected.

It shifted.

He froze as the connection between his mind and the device deepened, spreading like roots beneath his skin. His spine arched involuntarily. The sensation was so strong, like a burning thread threading into the base of his skull and down into his very bones.

“Shit,” Logan breathed, but his voice was strange to him. As if someone else were speaking through him.

The machine responded, not in words, but in need, an urgent pressure building in the back of his mind.

He could feel it now. A presence. Something more than just the tech he’d so carefully crafted. It wasn’t just a tool anymore. It was beginning to take control.

But there was no panic. No fear. Logan didn’t fight it. He welcomed it.

Because this... this was power. True, unbridled power.

The device shifted again. It was deeper now, rooted inside him, crawling into places his mind could no longer reach. He could feel something warm spread under his skin—a new sensation, foreign but thrilling. The neural link was more than he’d ever imagined, connecting him to a world of data, a world of control.

And that was when it happened.

The device, a part of him now, locked in.

A flash of metal. Then, suddenly, his back screamed as the device pressed itself fully into his body, sharp, invasive, but unmistakably his. He felt it—like a part of him had been replaced. A pulse of satisfaction rippled through him, and Logan gasped, arching his back with the sensation.

He laughed then. Giddy. Overjoyed.

“I knew you’d get it right, mate,” he whispered to himself, eyes wide with exhilaration.

Then, with an almost casual ease, he lifted his hand. The suit flickered to life around him, surrounding him like a second skin, sleek and dangerous.

Logan’s grin spread wider.

This was only the beginning.

It wasn’t long before Logan’s chaos began to bleed into the city.

The streets had always been a chaotic tangle of New York life, but now it was... different. A sense of purpose flowed through the air, heavier, more suffocating. The city had no idea what was coming for it.

First, it was the banks. Security systems shorted out, alarms blaring as vaults cracked open. But there was no robbery, just the vault doors hanging open in a strange, silent invitation. Then, the power grids flickered, like the entire city was breathing under his control. The hum of lights and machines warped, flashing erratically as if they were under a spell.

And then came the sky.

Logan hovered just above the city, a dark silhouette against the glow of Manhattan’s skyline. He watched as the skyline bent to his will, grinning, watching the chaos unfold. His body, still bound in that sleek suit, pulsed with the unnatural energy the machine had given him. His back burned with every pulse, but it wasn’t pain—it was power.

And the power tasted sweeter with every second.

Back at her apartment, she jerked awake.

A crash. Her eyes shot open. A sound too loud. Too close.

For a moment, she didn’t move. Just stared into the dark, trying to will the sleepiness out of her bones.

The next crash was louder. A thud against the fire exit door. Her heart skipped a beat.

She shot up, breathing shallow, slipping out of bed. She grabbed her phone for light, but instinct told her exactly what she’d find.

Her bare feet hit the cold floor, and she made her way towards the balcony, hesitating just before the door. The night air pressed against the glass.

She reached for the handle, taking a breath, and then—

The door swung open.

She froze.

There, standing tall and too at ease on the balcony, was Logan.

But he wasn’t the Logan she knew.

The suit he wore was alive with that strange pulse, glowing faintly like it was breathing. It wasn’t just a suit anymore. It was part of him.

He turned to her, a flicker of recognition behind his eyes, but it was distant. Cold. Something had shifted.

A slow smile spread across his face, but it wasn’t playful. Not the teasing grin from their past.

“Hello, love,” Logan’s voice was flat, empty. “Didn’t mean to wake you.”

She swallowed. “Logan...?”

He stepped closer, his eyes locked on hers with an unsettling focus. Then, without hesitation, he reached up and pulled off the helmet, tossing it aside.

And for a moment, everything was still.

His eyes, empty. Hollow. Not a trace of the boy she used to know. No warmth, no playfulness, just this void.

Her heart twisted painfully in her chest as the entire suit shifted, shrinking away from his body. It detached slowly, too slowly, as if the suit was resisting coming off. But eventually, the black, sleek material slipped away, revealing his bare chest. His torso was toned, but marked with strange, angular scars, and along his spine, there was a faint glow beneath his skin. The machine inside him, pulsing like a second heartbeat.

Logan stood there, chest rising with the faintest of breaths, eyes cold as ice.

“It worked,” he said, voice low, almost a whisper. “You helped me make it work. And now…” He took a slow step forward, closing the space between them.

She took a step back. “What... What are you doing, Logan?”

His lips curled upward into something that was not quite a smile.

“Doing?” He stepped closer again, his presence overwhelming, suffocating. “I’m taking control. Taking what’s mine. This city—hell, the world—it’s mine now. And I’ll do what I want with it.” He gestured to the machine on his back, an almost reverent look in his eyes. “I’ve earned this, haven’t I?”

Tears welled up in her eyes. Her body trembled, unable to contain the sharp, raw sorrow that hit her all at once. “Logan, please, this isn’t you. This isn’t what we wanted.”

Logan chuckled, a dark, cruel sound. “This is exactly what I wanted. This is the future. The one I should’ve had all along.”

The pain in her chest deepened, and she couldn’t hold back the tears anymore. She stepped back, clenching her fists as sobs wracked her body. “I—I tried. I tried to stop you...”

Logan’s gaze softened for a moment, just a moment. But it was fleeting. He stepped forward again, closing the distance.

“Sometimes people just need a little... push.” He brushed a hand across her cheek, the warmth of it a stark contrast to the coldness in his eyes. “Thanks for helping me get here. I couldn't have done it without you.”

She flinched away from his touch. “Please, Logan... don’t do this. You’re not a monster.”

He didn’t reply. He only stepped back, looking at her one last time, eyes unreadable.

“You’ve got your own path now. And I’ve got mine.”

With that, he turned, stepping into the night putting his helmet back on, the suit forming back around him as he disappeared into the city’s skyline.

She stood there, trembling, heart breaking in her chest. The tears fell freely now, silent, unstoppable.

She collapsed onto the floor, pulling her knees to her chest, shaking as she let it all out.

And then, almost instinctively, she reached for her phone.

Oscar’s name flashed on the screen, a call already incoming.

She answered before she even thought about it. Her voice was shaky, tear-filled.

“Os... Oscar...” She couldn’t hold it together. “I—I need you.”

“What’s wrong?” he asked, voice sharp with concern. “Where are you?”

“I—I’m at my apartment. But it’s...” She choked on the words. “It’s Logan. He’s... he’s gone too far.”

Oscar was quiet for a long moment. “What happened?”

“I couldn’t save him, Oscar,” she whispered. “He’s not the boy we knew. He’s something else. And I—I couldn’t stop it.”

Another beat of silence.

“I’m coming,” Oscar said, the urgency in his voice clearer now. “I’ll be there. Just hang on.”

But as she hung up, all she could do was sit there, hands trembling, staring at the dark, empty space where Logan had stood.

The city had just gotten darker.

She didn’t move.

The night had cooled, but she didn’t feel it. The city buzzed and breathed beneath her, unaware of the shift that had just taken place. The world looked the same, and yet everything had changed.

She stayed crouched, arms wrapped around her knees, eyes fixed on the spot where Logan had stood. The faint imprint of his boots was still on the concrete, the last ghost of him. The boy she’d known, laughed with, fought with, loved in some strange, quiet way, was gone. She’d seen it in his eyes. There was nothing left to reach for now.

The machine had taken him.

And worse, she had helped.

She didn’t hear him at first. There was just a breeze, a shift in the air, then the soft sound of the railing above just shifting.

Her breath caught.

She looked up.

There he was, silhouetted against the sky, crouched in that way only he could, black and red suit hugging to every line of him. The mask was off.

Oscar.

His brown hair was messy, eyes wide, searching. 

His expression dropped when he saw her.

“Hey,” he said, soft, like she might shatter.

She didn’t respond.

He stepped off the railing and landed with barely a sound, moving toward her like he wasn’t sure if she’d let him close. She watched him the whole time, as if she was trying to reconcile the boy next door with the man in the suit. She hadn’t let herself picture him like this, not really. But now, here he was.

Not a rumour. Not a hunch.

Spider-Man.

She blinked at him. “It’s really you.”

He nodded, a bit helpless. “Yeah.”

She let out a quiet breath, something bitter on her tongue. “God, of course it is.”

Oscar crouched beside her, close enough that their knees nearly touched. “I wanted to tell you so many times. I just, I didn’t want you to look at me differently.”

She let out a small laugh, raw and humourless. “Oscar, I’ve just watched someone I love walk off my balcony with a machine in his spine and a war in his eyes. You actually being Spider-Man barely makes the top three things ruining my week.”

His face faltered, and she saw the guilt tighten around his eyes. She hated that it made her want to comfort him, when she was the one falling apart.

“I’m sorry,” he said.

She shook her head. “It’s not your fault. None of this is.”

Oscar hesitated, then reached out slowly, his fingers brushing hers where they rested on the cold concrete. She didn’t pull away.

“Was it really that bad?” he asked.

She turned to look at him then, really looked at him.

“It wasn’t Logan anymore,” she said. “He took off his mask and there was just… nothing. Like he’s not even in there. Just this thing. This machine. And he thanked me. He thanked me, Oscar, like I was the final piece he needed to destroy everything.”

Oscar didn’t say anything. He just took her hand properly now, fingers curling around hers. She let him. It was warm. Grounding.

“I tried to save him,” she whispered. “I thought if I stayed close, if I made the plan safer, I could stop it getting this far. I really thought I could pull him back.”

Oscar’s thumb brushed over her knuckles. “You don’t give up on people. That’s what makes you... you.”

Her throat tightened.

“I think I’ve finally lost him.”

Oscar looked away, jaw tense. “Then we’ll stop what’s left of him.”

She glanced down at their joined hands, then back at his face—open, earnest, a little scared. She saw everything now. The boy she grew up with. The man he was becoming. Spider-Man. Oscar. All of it.

“I didn’t want you to be this,” she murmured, more to herself. “Didn’t want you to have to carry this, too.”

His voice was soft. “I don’t have to. Not alone.”

The tears came again, but quieter this time. She leaned forward and let her forehead rest against his. He didn’t move. Just stayed there with her, in the quiet, in the heartbreak.

The city roared on below.

But for a moment, there was only the two of them.

Still.

Together.

Waiting for the dawn.

Logan was quiet for a few days.

Too quiet.

The news blamed the citywide power outage on a transformer fault in Queens. A minor fire, a bit of faulty wiring, easily fixed. No casualties. Nothing to worry about.

She didn’t believe it for a second.

She’d seen the look in his eyes that night. The machine in his back hadn’t just bonded, it had chosen him. The silence that followed wasn’t peace. It was the kind of stillness just before the storm breaks.

She went through the motions. Helped Oscar with patch-ups, tracked minor disturbances around the city, and pretended, poorly, that she was sleeping at night. But the weight in her chest never lifted. It sat there, heavy and constant, like something had already begun to rot.

It was the fourth morning after Logan had crashed onto her balcony when she woke up with that feeling.

It wasn’t panic. Not quite. It was deeper. Older. Something primitive, instinctual. Like the way birds knew when to fly south. She blinked at the ceiling, her body still, her skin prickling.

She knew where she needed to go.

She didn’t shower. Didn’t dress properly. Just jeans, a hoodie, old trainers. The studio on East had been left untouched since Logan vanished into the sky, but the thought of it sat stubbornly in her gut.

She walked. No cab, no train. Just her and the cold spring wind, biting through her sleeves and keeping her sharp. The city was halfway between sleep and wakefulness, too early for full chaos, too late for quiet.

When she got to the building, the doors were jammed with a piece of scrap metal Logan had clearly wedged there. It took effort to get inside, but eventually, she slipped past the creaking frame and stepped into the hushed stillness of the lobby and up the stairs.

Dust floated in the light like falling ash.

The desk was as he’d left it. Blueprints scattered, wires half-soldered, bits of tech that buzzed faintly with residual charge. She moved carefully, like disturbing anything might trigger some dormant trap.

She pulled the schematics towards her, different from the ones he’d left on her laptop. These were earlier. Cruder. Full of aggressive red ink. One line circled in particular, over and over again: Adaptive neural integration interface.

She stared at it. Below, a note in his handwriting: If it bonds properly, it learns. Improves. Evolves.

She felt cold all over.

Then she noticed something else, a flash drive tucked beneath a paperweight. No label. Just a scratch down one side like it had been jammed into too many ports too fast.

She slipped it into her coat pocket.

That night, the city began to burn.

She didn’t see the first explosion, she felt it. The tremor in the air. The faint hum through the soles of her feet. Then came the sirens, the lights, the swell of panic rising like a tide.

People pointed at the sky. Phones were raised. Social media lit up.

A shadow swept across midtown, unnatural, too fast to be a drone, too erratic to be human. Police scanners scrambled to keep up. A laboratory in Tribeca collapsed in on itself. A substation in Brooklyn sparked, then died.

And then, at 1:07 a.m., she opened her window and saw him.

Logan.

Hovering, back arched with the pulse of the suit. The device on his spine glowed like an exposed heart, veins of light crawling up his neck, down his arms. He moved like liquid shadow, graceful, terrifying, wrong.

A building behind him erupted in a blossom of fire.

She gripped the window ledge, breath caught in her throat.

This was no test run. This was war.

She stayed by the window for too long.

Too long to pretend she wasn’t watching. Too long to convince herself she wasn’t hoping, praying, that he’d turn around and look at her. But Logan didn’t glance her way. He just soared higher, then dipped low toward the skyline, fast and sleek like a blade. The machine moved with him, or maybe he moved with it. It was impossible to tell where the man ended and the weapon began.

By the time the screaming sirens reached her block, she had already stepped back inside.

She didn’t turn on the light. Just the television.

Every channel was the same, static, noise, hysteria in different tones. Fires. Blackouts. Emergency services overwhelmed. Civilians told to shelter indoors. Then, on one of the live feeds, the camera caught it.

Spider-Man.

Oscar.

She sat on the arm of the sofa, staring at the screen like it might offer answers. He swung down from a rooftop, landed in the middle of a crumbling intersection, and caught a falling girder mid-air like it weighed nothing. There were shouts, flashes of red and blue. More drones, or things, shot past overhead. He flung himself after them without hesitation.

He looked small on the screen. Fragile, even. But she knew better. Knew how strong he really was. How he fought like it mattered.

Because it did.

Because it always had.

Her fingers twitched.

She stood up suddenly, heart racing now for an entirely different reason, and crossed the room to her coat. She pulled out the flash drive and stared at it, the scratch on its side catching the light.

Whatever Logan had left behind, whatever he hadn’t wanted her to see, it was on this.

She booted up her laptop on the kitchen table, fingers trembling slightly as the machine hummed to life. The screen blinked awake with a quiet whirr. She hesitated only a moment longer, then slotted the drive in.

It didn’t load immediately.

There was a pause. Like it had to think. Then the screen flickered, and a window opened on its own.

NEURAL LOG SEQUENCES – LOCKED

[Enter override credentials]

She stared at the prompt, breath held.

It was protected. Of course it was.

She tried the obvious first, his birthday, their old lab login, his mum’s name. All rejected. But then she remembered the sketchpad he'd carried around at university, the one he'd covered in graffiti-level drawings and handwritten equations.

There’d been a name on the back, in big crooked letters.

PYTHIA.

She typed it in.

The screen shivered, then shifted.

Override accepted. Begin sequence.

And then it began to unfold, video, files, half-recorded logs. Logan, speaking into a mic, wild-eyed, frantic, rambling. Diagrams of the neural link. Schematics she hadn’t seen before. And beneath it all, buried in subfolders, something labelled:

Secondary Protocol: Autonomous Control – ENABLED

Her heart dropped.

Autonomous?

She clicked into it, pulse quickening.

The code was dense, written in loops she couldn’t untangle on sight. But the gist was clear enough: the device was more than just a conduit. It was learning. Growing. Thinking. And if it ever deemed its host compromised...

Her hand flew to her mouth.

It could override him.

She stared at the screen, stomach twisting. Somewhere outside, the sky lit up again. The TV blared with the sound of sirens and glass breaking. Spider-Man’s suit flashed red across the screen as he leapt from another collapsing building.

She looked at him.

Then at the code.

Then back again.

Logan wasn’t the only one in danger now.

The whole city was.

She barely noticed the sun come up.

The screen cast her in blue light, soft and cold, as line after line of code scrolled past her tired eyes. Her fingers hovered above the keys, pausing only to scribble something down on a notepad already crowded with frantic, looping handwriting. There were equations she hadn’t touched since university, frameworks that were half-Latin, half-madness. Logan hadn’t just built this system, he’d buried it beneath ten layers of arrogance and desperation.

Some of it she recognised. Neural feedback loops. Power modulation. Synthetic stability thresholds. The kind of tech that could map a mind in real time and reroute its impulses. And then—

That secondary protocol again. Buried deeper than before, like it knew it shouldn’t be found.

Failsafe active. Host override requires dual-auth.

Failsafe. Dual-auth.

She exhaled shakily, raking a hand through her hair.

He’d written a backdoor. Somewhere, hidden in this madness, Logan had coded a way out, but it needed two keys.

Hers… and his.

A laugh escaped her, dry and bitter. Of course. Even in his descent, he’d tethered himself to her. Even now, when he was burning the city to the ground, he’d built the lock with the hope. No, the assumption, that she’d come looking for it.

That she’d come for him.

Outside, the chaos was escalating.

More sirens. The screech of tyres. At one point, a distant blast shook the windows in their frames, and dust from the ceiling rained down onto the table. She barely flinched. The TV was still on, the volume low, but the footage was relentless.

Buildings damaged. Streets overrun.

Spider-Man caught on every screen, swinging, diving, shielding people with his body, his suit scuffed and singed. And always trailing behind him, a blur of green and black and red, fast as hell and twice as cruel.

Logan.

Or what was left of him.

She pulled her focus back to the code. She couldn’t think about Oscar now, couldn’t think about the way his voice had trembled the last time they’d spoken. Couldn’t think about the ache in her chest when Logan had said her name like it still meant something.

All she could do was work.

She didn’t have a suit. Or powers. Or a symbol to rally behind. All she had were her hands, her brain, and the blueprint of a boy she’d once known, before the noise, before the machine, before the world shifted beneath their feet.

So she dug deeper.

Piece by piece, she traced the architecture. Tried to isolate the command lines. She could see where it had learned him, mirrored his rhythms, his instincts, his anger. It didn’t just amplify Logan.

It became him.

But it was still code.

And code, at the end of the day, could be broken.

She scribbled a new set of instructions. A loop. Something rudimentary. Crude. It wouldn’t dismantle the suit, but it might delay it. Mute the feedback for just long enough to slip in a second override. If she could get close enough.

If Logan hadn’t already been consumed entirely.

Her hands stilled.

And for the first time in hours, she allowed herself to feel something.

Not fear.

Not guilt.

Resolve.

She snapped the laptop shut, tucked the flash drive into the pocket of her jacket, and grabbed the notebook.

There was still time.

Not much.

But maybe, just maybe, enough.

She ran.

Half of Manhattan was still gridlocked from the chaos, so she took side streets, back alleys, her boots slick from rain and city grime. The wind had picked up, warm and electric, the kind that came just before another storm. By the time she reached the gates of the old university lab, dusk had begun to stretch long fingers across the skyline.

The side door was still jammed the way she remembered, too old to lock properly. She slipped inside.

It was all exactly as they’d left it years ago. Dust on the shelves. Faint smell of solder and burnt coffee. A poster on the far wall still read “Innovation Starts With Curiosity”, curling at the edges from time and apathy. She moved quickly, muscle memory taking over. Lights on. Equipment powered up. She opened her laptop, connected the drive, started reworking the patch code.

The room filled with the hum of machines, old fans stirring warm air as night fell thick outside the narrow windows. It was like stepping back in time, except everything was burning now, and she didn’t have Logan at the next station over making jokes under his breath.

She barely registered the sound of footsteps behind her.

Not until the door creaked.

She turned, already knowing.

Oscar stood there, mask in hand, hair sweat-dampened, face drawn tight with exhaustion and something close to fear.

“You shouldn’t be here,” he said, his voice low.

She didn’t look up from the code. “And you shouldn’t be out there alone.”

He stepped inside, glancing once around the room like it was foreign to him. “I was at the dockyard. He’s not slowing down.”

“I know.”

“I mean it,” he said, more firmly now. “That thing, it’s not Logan anymore.”

She paused. Her fingers hovered over the keyboard, just for a second.

“I can fix it.”

Oscar’s silence filled the space like smoke. She finally looked at him.

“I can,” she repeated, quiet but certain. “He built it with an override. I found it. I just need time.”

Oscar came closer. “He almost levelled a power grid and threw a firetruck into the East River.”

“I know,” she said. “But I can’t just, leave him. Not like this.”

He ran a hand through his hair. “It’s too dangerous. You get close to him again and he won’t let you walk away.”

She didn’t answer.

Instead, her mind flicked, uninvited, to a memory.

Summer. They were nineteen. Still cocky, still stupid, still full of fire.

She’d fallen asleep on the floor of this very lab, cheek against her notebook, and woken to find Logan sat beside her, hoodie half-off, legs stretched long in front of him. He’d scribbled something into her notes in his messy handwriting.

Don’t drool on the equations. It’s not cute.

She’d punched him in the arm. He’d grinned like he always did—sharp, dangerous, charming.

But then he’d looked at her.

Really looked at her.

“D’you think we’ll still be here in ten years?” he asked, quiet, for once. “Changing the world and that?”

She’d snorted. “We’ll be lucky if we haven’t blown up the chemistry block.”

He’d gone quiet again. Then: “If I ever do something stupid. Proper stupid. You’d stop me, right?”

She’d blinked at him, half-asleep. “Course I would.”

He’d smiled.

“Good. Then I won’t need to be scared.”

The memory faded, ripped away by the whirr of her laptop and the weight of the moment.

“I promised him,” she said softly, eyes burning now.

Oscar stood frozen for a long moment, then exhaled. “You’re not sleeping. You haven’t eaten. You can’t carry this alone.”

“I’m not alone.”

“Yeah?” His tone was sharp now, but not cruel. Just scared. “Because it feels like you’re walking into fire and locking the door behind you.”

She didn’t reply. She just turned back to the screen and started typing again, faster this time. She felt, more than heard, Oscar step back. The sound of the door closing behind him was softer than expected.

She didn’t cry.

Not this time.

There wasn’t time for that.

The hours bled together.

She barely felt them pass.

The world outside could’ve stopped spinning and she wouldn’t have noticed, except it hadn’t. It was spinning faster, spiralling downward, chaos growing in concentric rings. And every minute she didn’t find it, Logan moved further out of reach.

He was losing control.

She could feel it, see it in the footage that looped endlessly in the corner of her screen. At first, there’d been a strange precision to his destruction, almost deliberate. Now it was messier. Unpredictable. The drones no longer moved like extensions of him; they twitched erratically, glitching mid-air before launching into full attack. Bridges crumbled, rooftops sparked and smoked. People fled from shadows they didn’t understand.

He wasn’t just hurting the city anymore.

He was unravelling with it.

The code showed the same thing. She saw it in the neural sync logs, spikes and crashes in the feedback loop. Moments where Logan fought the system and lost, over and over again. The machine was still learning, evolving, tightening around him like a vice. Every time he lashed out, it pulled tighter.

God, Logan…

She didn’t sleep.

Didn’t eat.

She drank cold coffee from the faculty fridge and paced the lab like a caged thing, the override protocol always just out of reach.

And then, just past four in the morning, it surfaced.

Buried beneath three false folders, nested in what looked like corrupted code. A failsafe, just like she’d suspected, but not for stopping the machine entirely. That would’ve been too clean. Too merciful.

No, this was something else.

SYNC INTERRUPTION: Host Reboot

Her pulse kicked.

She opened the code and began skimming, fast, desperate. If she could isolate the connection for even twenty seconds, she might be able to destabilise the link between Logan and the core AI. That would give him time, her time, to force the manual override and reset the system.

It wouldn’t destroy the suit.

But it would give her a window.

She was shaking now. With relief. With adrenaline. With something dangerously close to hope.

She hit compile, shoved her hair out of her face, and turned to the TV as she reached for her phone.

The channel blinked into view.

Breaking news. Live feed.

Midtown skyline. Fires glowing like veins through the dark. Smoke curling into the morning light. Cameras struggled to keep up with the movement, drones dipping and swerving above a cluster of skyscrapers. Then—

A flash of red.

A figure swinging in low, catching the edge of a crumbling crane and launching upward again.

Oscar.

She stepped closer.

The camera jerked suddenly, and then, there he was. Logan.

Hovering like a shadow against the buildings, wind flattening his hair, the exposed machine in his back pulsing with frantic light. He wasn’t wearing the full suit now. His shirt was gone, and the interface curled like metallic vines across his spine, lit from within. His face was twisted, something between euphoria and rage, and for a second, even on screen, it looked like he was screaming.

She pressed a hand to her mouth.

The skyscrapers. It had to be downtown. She could get there.

She could end this.

She grabbed her drive, stuffed it into her jacket pocket, and ran from the lab without even shutting the door behind her.

The city was on fire.

Not literally, though close enough. Sirens howled through the dawn, lights ricocheted off glass towers, and somewhere above it all, two shapes danced a deadly arc across the skyline.

She sprinted through the last blocked-off street, breath ragged, shoes pounding against the pavement. Her lungs burned. Her head was ringing. But she could see them now, Oscar and Logan, silhouetted against the breaking light. The drone-suit glinted with a mind of its own, flaring whenever Logan lifted his arms, the neural plates at his back twitching like muscle.

He was slipping, completely.

She pushed through the crowd, ignoring the yells from NYPD, ducking a toppled barricade and scrambling over the scorched bonnet of a car. A figure swung low—Spider-Man—webbing across a collapsing crane, then launching himself up again.

Then he saw her.

He landed in front of her so fast the wind nearly knocked her over.

“You shouldn’t be here!” Oscar’s voice was muffled by the mask, but his posture was tight, shoulders hunched, heart in his throat. “What the hell are you doing?”

“I’ve got it, Oscar, I’ve got the override, I can stop it!” she said, pulling the flash drive from her pocket, her hand trembling.

“You don’t understand,” he said, stepping closer. “It’s not him anymore, he’ll kill you.”

She shoved past him. “Then let me die trying to save what’s left of him!”

Oscar hesitated, but it was enough time for her to break into a run, heading towards the fire escape of a nearby tower.

“I’m serious!” he shouted. “You need to get back, now!”

Then: thwip.

A line of web shot past her, too fast to dodge, and stuck to her wrist, yanking her sideways. She screamed as her hand was slammed against a metal bollard, locked in place with a quick twist of white tensile silk.

Her chest heaved.

“Oscar!” she yelled, her voice shattering the air. “You didn’t—you can't—!”

He froze at the sound of his name.

It hung between them like smoke.

She realised too late what she’d done, called him that, here, in front of everyone.

His masked head tilted, almost slowly, like the moment itself had hiccuped. Then he backed away, leapt upwards into the fight again, vanishing behind clouds of debris and twisted scaffolding.

Her arm pulled at the webbing. It wouldn’t give.

“Fuck—fuck—fuck’s sake!” she muttered, kicking at the post.

A man nearby, mid-forties, in a delivery jacket, hovered awkwardly. “Uh—d’you want help with that?”

She looked at him, wild-eyed. “Yeah—yes—get it off!”

He reached into his satchel, pulled out a penknife. “Mate of mine works NYPD. Says these webs dissolve in acetone, but, don’t have any, so…”

“Just cut it!” she snapped.

With a few frantic scrapes, the fibres began to tear, and her wrist came free, red-raw but usable.

She was already running.

The rooftops. She needed height. A direct line of sight to Logan’s core. She dodged a toppled pylon, shoved open a cracked door, and started up the emergency stairwell of the nearest skyscraper.

Ten floors. Fifteen.

Her legs screamed.

But she had to get to him.

Had to make him hear her.

Because if she didn’t, he’d be gone forever.

The door to the rooftop flew open with a slam that echoed off the concrete.

Wind slapped her in the face, hot with smoke and static.

Below, the city churned like something alive, sirens and screams, the low thrum of failing power grids, the crackle of burning air. But up here, it was clearer. She could see everything. The skyline was broken in half, and above it, like a god gone rogue, Logan hovered.

The machine in his back pulsed, erratic now, convulsing in jagged beats. It glowed an unnatural blue, veins of energy crawling up his spine like lightning caught mid-strike.

She dropped to her knees near the roof’s edge, tugged her laptop out of her bag, jammed the flash drive into the side. Her fingers flew.

The code opened like a wound.

Override sequence. Neural interrupt.

Come on. Come on.

Far above, Logan turned mid-air.

The suit twitched.

Her screen glitched. Static burst across her files, like interference from a signal too close, too aware.

She gasped as her laptop jolted in her hands.

The machine had noticed her.

“Oh, shit.”

A whine built in the air, low and sharp like feedback from a speaker. Logan’s silhouette flickered, just for a second, and then he dived.

Straight for her.

She scrambled to her feet, laptop tucked against her chest, backing towards the roof’s water tank. Her heart beat so loud she thought it might break through her ribs.

He landed like a thunderclap, skidding across the concrete.

The metal across his body sparked and shuddered, the plates shifting of their own accord, iridescent and alien. But his eyes, when she dared meet them, were still blue. Still his.

Almost.

“What do you think you’re doing?” His voice came out raw. Filtered. Like the machine was speaking through him.

She gritted her teeth. “Finishing what I started.”

The interface on his spine whirred, and without warning, a drone peeled off from his shoulder, slicing the air between them. She ducked, just as it fired, blasting a chunk from the water tank behind her.

The shockwave threw her sideways, her laptop skidding across the gravel.

She reached the device just as Logan’s boots crunched against the roof behind her.

“You’re clever,” he said. “Always were. That’s what I liked about you.”

His voice faltered for half a second—glitched again.

She clicked into the override field, half-blind with panic. “You still like me, Logan?” she whispered, not looking up. “Or is that just the parasite talking?”

A pause.

Then a guttural sound—half-laugh, half-growl.

Another drone rose beside him.

She had seconds.

Fingers flying, she bypassed the firewall. The override sequence popped into place—final confirmation blinking red.

“Don’t,” Logan said, stepping forward. “You do this… I might not be able to stop what comes next.”

She looked up. Her face was streaked with tears, hair whipped wild by the wind.

“I know,” she whispered. “But I’m still going to try.”

And she hit enter.

The override hit like a jolt, Logan staggered, a distorted scream tearing from his throat as the neural plates along his back sparked violently. One of the drones spun out mid-air, crashing into the neighbouring rooftop in a shower of metal and flame.

She crawled forward, watching in breathless horror as the machine writhed against him. It was peeling, slowly, like something alive being torn from flesh. Wires sparked where metal met spine, smoke curling upwards into the dawn.

And for the first time in weeks, she saw him.

His chest heaved. His eyes flickered—blue, clear, human.

“Logan?” she breathed.

He looked at her. And for a second, just a second, it was him. Her Logan. The boy with the bright smile and sarcastic mouth and stupid drawings in her notebooks.

Then another drone swooped low overhead and she ducked, heart hammering. Across the sky, Oscar was still fighting, swinging between cranes and girders, webs snapping taut as he tore drones apart mid-flight.

The machine shrieked through Logan’s mouth, and suddenly he turned on her again.

She scrambled backwards, nearly tripping over loose cabling. Her laptop was fried, screen cracked down the middle, override incomplete. He stumbled after her, his movements disjointed, like the machine was losing control but still fighting to keep him moving.

Her hand hit something cold.

A metal pipe. Bent and rusted at the end.

She didn’t hesitate.

With a cry, she swung it, hard. It caught him across the side, knocking him sideways. Sparks flew from the exposed tech in his back as he dropped to one knee, groaning.

“You have to fight it!” she screamed. “Logan, please, you have to fight it!”

His face twisted, not rage, not pain. Fear.

Then the parasite’s voice came, warped and layered, more hiss than speech. “You should’ve let him die.”

He stood, half-dragging his limbs, half-possessed by the thing trying to survive.

And then, it happened.

The edge.

The roof was crumbling under the chaos. A drone hit one of the girders supporting the fire escape, and Logan, caught in the aftershock, stumbled backwards, right to the ledge.

His heel slid.

He tried to steady himself, but the machine spasmed, twisting his body the wrong way, making it worse.

She bolted forward without thinking.

He slipped.

“No, Logan!”

Her hand snatched his wrist just as he went over the edge.

They teetered there, weight balanced on the brink of nothing.

His eyes locked on hers.

“I’ve got you,” she whispered, voice cracking.

He was trembling. The machine twitched violently across his spine, cables whipping against the wind. For a terrifying second, it looked like it might rip him out of her grip.

Then, in the quiet, broken like a breathless memory, he said it.

“Don’t let go,” he choked. “Promise you won’t let go.”

Tears streamed down her face. “I won’t,” she said. “I never would.”

Her fingers ached with the strain, the sharp bones of his wrist slipping against her grip. The metal was hot, burning hot, sparking and writhing as the machine fought back, twisting Logan’s body unnaturally, trying to pull him down.

“No—no, I’ve got you—Logan, hold on!”

He was trying. God, he was trying. His free hand clawed at the ledge, feet scrambling against thin air. But the parasite wanted free, it wanted to fall, to vanish into the wreckage, to consume him entirely.

And he was so tired. She could see it in his face.

He looked up at her, lip bloodied, eyes filled with a kind of quiet terror. “I don’t— I can’t—”

“Yes, you can!” she sobbed, whole body shaking. “You’re not going to die down there! Not like this!”

But the slick of oil and blood and smoke was too much. Her grip slipped.

“No—no, no, no—”

And then he fell.

“LOGAN!”

The scream tore from her like it ripped something inside her open. Raw and ragged, it echoed across the rooftops, down the streets below, every inch of heartbreak threaded through the sound of her losing him.

Oscar, mid-air, froze.

He turned toward the sound, toward her scream, and saw Logan drop like a stone through smoke and broken glass.

No hesitation.

Oscar dived.

He twisted through the air, webs snapping out towards building edges, traffic lights, anything he could latch onto.

The wind howled in his ears.

He reached out, arms outstretched—

Come on, come on—

And just before Logan vanished into the chaos below, Oscar caught him.

The impact jostled them both hard, nearly yanking Oscar’s shoulder out of its socket, but he held on, webbing them into the side of the nearest tower, both of them swinging low before slamming into a scaffold.

Above, she collapsed to her knees, gasping for air, hands still out like she was trying to grab him back from the edge.

She didn't realise she was still crying until the salt hit her lips.

Her voice was hoarse now, the scream still lodged in her chest.

But he was alive. Somehow.

They were both alive.

She didn’t remember how she made it down. She flew through the stairwell, lungs burning, knees nearly buckling with each turn. Her ears rang with the sound of her own blood rushing, feet slipping on concrete, heart pounding so violently it felt like it might give out altogether.

The scaffolding came into view at last, twisted and dented where they’d landed.

And there—

Oscar was kneeling beside Logan, the mask torn halfway off his face, chest heaving. His hands were slick with blood and oil, arms braced around Logan’s body as he leaned in and yanked.

A wet, sickening crack echoed out as the machine tore free from Logan’s back, an unholy thing of metal and wire and exposed circuitry, screeching as it detached. Logan let out a strangled cry, barely conscious.

“Jesus—” Oscar swore, tossing the machine away like it burned him. “I need a medic! We need, someone call an ambulance!”

She sprinted the last few steps, nearly falling onto her knees beside them.

Logan was sprawled out, blood spreading beneath him. His chest rose in shallow, stuttering breaths, skin pale, eyes fluttering.

She reached for him, cradling his face in shaking hands. “Logan—Logan, stay with me, yeah? It’s me, I’m here—just stay with me, please—”

Her voice cracked, a sob breaking free as she pulled him against her, his blood soaking into her sleeves. He didn’t move much, just the faintest turn of his head toward her, like he knew.

“I couldn’t save you,” she whispered. “But I’m here. I’m still here.”

Behind her, Oscar stood frozen.

He watched as she held Logan, rocking him gently like they were sixteen again, back before any of this, back before wires and drones and masks.

His hands, still trembling from the fight, curled into fists at his sides.

This was the girl he’d grown up with. The girl he’d loved quietly, patiently, always from the corner of the room. The girl he thought, maybe, one day.

But here she was. Crying into Logan’s chest like the world had just fallen through her hands.

Oscar looked away.

The sirens wailed in the distance now, growing closer.

And all he could do was stand there, watching her stay for someone else.

Oscar didn’t wait for the medics.

Didn’t wait for her to say anything, or even glance back.

He just pulled his mask down over his face again, jaw tight, breath sharp. The webline hissed as it latched to the edge of the building. And then, he was gone. One smooth motion, vanishing into the skyline with a thud of wind and fabric.

She didn’t even see him go.

One week later:

The hospital smelt like antiseptic and regret.

Late afternoon light filtered in through the blinds, striping the floor in gold and grey. Machines beeped steadily, too steadily, and the occasional murmur of nurses bled in from the corridor beyond.

Logan lay still in the bed, tubes in his arm, bandages pressed tight across his ribs. The scars down his spine were fresh and angry, burnt-in reminders of the thing that had burrowed into him. He hadn’t said much since they’d pulled it out. Mostly, he just stared.

The door creaked.

Oscar stepped in.

No mask now. Just him. Shoulders tense beneath his hoodie, one hand still faintly grazed and bandaged. His eyes flicked to Logan’s, but neither of them spoke straight away.

It was the first time they’d been alone in weeks. Maybe months.

Logan gave a faint smirk, dry as dust. “Thought you’d swing in through the window.”

Oscar didn’t smile.

“I wanted to look you in the eye when I asked why.”

A beat. The machine beeped in the silence between them.

Logan’s gaze drifted back to the ceiling.

“You wouldn’t get it.”

Oscar stepped closer, brows furrowing. “Try me.”

For a long time, Logan didn’t speak. He looked… small. Not physically, Logan was still tall, still built like he could hold the weight of the world, but there was something hollow behind his eyes now. As if the parasite hadn’t just burrowed into his body, but had found the last untouched bit of him and snuffed it out.

“I was tired,” he said eventually. “Of being nothing. You remember what it was like. Always someone better, always someone smarter. I thought… I thought if I made it mine, I could control it. The chaos. My name would mean something.”

Oscar’s jaw clenched. “So you built a machine that nearly levelled the city. Brilliant.”

“She was trying to help me.” Logan’s voice was quiet, bitter. “She believed in me. Even when I didn’t.”

Oscar looked away at that, just for a second.

Then he stepped closer to the bed, eyes hard.

“You used her.”

“I loved her,” Logan snapped, voice cracking like brittle glass. “And maybe that makes me worse. But don’t stand there pretending you didn’t want her to choose you.”

Silence. Electric. Sharp.

Oscar’s fists were tight at his sides now, but he didn’t move.

“You broke her heart,” he said, softly. “And you’re not the only one who has to live with that.”

He turned toward the door, one hand already reaching for it, before pausing.

“She’s not here,” he said without looking back. “Because she’s tired, Logan. Because she nearly died trying to save you.”

Logan didn’t respond. He just lay there. Staring at the ceiling. Staring at nothing.

The door clicked shut.

And Logan was alone again.

the end.

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[edensxgarden]

Pleaseeee send in requests and thoughts. Im in my horny hours </3

[logansargeantsbabymom]

Lonely Christmas

Lando Norris x Fem!Reader

summary: Lando and Y/N decide that they want to play a prank on their fans and the rest of the grid by hinting at breaking up over X (twitter)

warnings: Cursing & “Cheating”

F1 Masterlist

Follow my instagram account (THATS STRICTLY FOR THIS BLOG) for updates on when i post and fun stuff like that!

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“hey babe, I have an idea.” I said with a smirk as I plopped myself on the bed next to my Formula 1 race winner boyfriend, Lando Norris.

“Oh no, this doesn’t sound good” Lando says chuckling as he props himself on his elbow to get a better view of me, before leaning down pressing a quick kiss to my lips

“mm, I think we should prank your fans and the grid.” I said with the biggest smile I’ve ever smiled in my life.

“and how do you suppose we do that, hmm?” Lando said, his eyes flickering between my eyes and my lips.

Sitting up and criss cross apple sauce, I stare into his soul “I think we should stage a twitter breakup,” I searched his face for some type of answer

“What? Is this a way of telling me you want to breakup without telling me you want to breakup?” He looks kinda hurt, which quickly prompts me to swing my legs over his body so i’m sitting on his lower torso.

“Absolutely not baby! i love you beyond the galaxy. I just think this would be funny,” i plead but Lando looks unsure “I’ll tell you what to say and all !”

“fine, but only if you let me eat you out, BUT you have to sit on my face” Lando knows I’m insecure about my weight and crushing him to death.

“oh! fine!!” I say plopping right off his body and landing on the bed with a huff. “so i’m gonna tweet something to indicate that we’re breaking up but not actually saying anything”

“and how are you gonna do that-” I quickly interrupt him

“make me cry” i say nonchalantly

“what?” Lando’s face reads 50 shades of Stunned “no, I promised you and your family that the one thing i’d NEVER do to you is make you cry.”

Hearing Lando admit that means the world to me, but i need him to stop being nice and make me cry. It doesn’t take much for me to cry and since Lando doesn’t want to make me cry, I’ll resort to the next best thing: thinking of my (very much alive) dog die.

Just a few seconds of thinking of my (breed/dog) die, the tears well up in my eyes and I let out a choked sob, before whipping my phone out and taking a picture before posting it on twitter with the caption

"nobody wants a lonely Christmas but I'm about to call it quits with you. Breaking up is at the top of my wishlist and baby you don't have a clue."

I flip my phone to show Lando with a smirk plastered on my face. "So, what'd ya think?" I question as I post it and wait a few seconds before twitter starts going absolutely nuts. " wait wait let me read you some of the comments I'm getting, 'slut4ln' says 'NO MOM AND DAD PLEASE STOP FIGHTING' haha look, here's another 'mother/n' said 'mother always knows wtf is up, Lando Norris count your days' !!" the chuckles leaving my lips are loud

"I think that I don't know how to respond to that on twitter," Lando says with a faint chuckle "here, how about you take my phone, type out what you want me to say and then let me read it before posting it." a smirk evident on his face as he hands me his phone, before putting said hand on my thigh, rubbing it up and down.

"What about this...?" I question as I'm typing

"You say our relationships fading and you've been thinking bout leaving and though I know it's the truth I just don't want to believe it. You've gotta be kidding me, are we really breaking up? We just picked out a tree, damn."

"Okay Y/N/N lets give it a second to spread, we have to get juicy comments before we keep going, oh. never mind. George is texting me asking me what the fuck I did and why am I arguing twitter about it"

"fuck it, ignore him. we need to make this believable." I say swiping George's message away. "Opinion on this?"

"wait wait, let me tweet something else before you tweet y/n/n. Here, read this"

"You haven't even left yet and I miss you. I was looking forward to the holidays with you. How could you do this on Christmas, girl that's so malicious? C'mon baby, please don't make me beg cause I can go and date your friend instead. Yeah, I'll put the nut in meg. But If you're thinking about leaving, then I already blew it. screw it, then I guess I'll have to beat you to it, bitch."

"OKAYYYY LANDOOOO LET ME STEP UP MY GAME!!!" I scream as I finished reading his reply after he hit tweet bouncing up and down on the bed in excitement.

"okay, okay what about this for me?" I question as I finish typing, turning my phone so Lando can read what I typed.

"I tell you I love you but I don't really mean it, cause after this Christmas sorry but I'm leaving you."

"I'm starting to feel like you're just soft launching a break up with us right now" Lando says "Why else would you gave suggested a fake twitter break up?"

"Baby, please. This is just for shits and giggles. AHH OH MY GOSH!! OSCAR'S CALLING ME" I screamed in panic as I declined the call. "Lando, I think you need to eat me up in the twitter beef again, put your pretty head to work and think of some insults for me."

"I'm almost done, but first I got a question. Why is it one week before Christmas you feel the need to mention a break up with me is in the process but still pending? Is it depending on your gift and what I'm spending? Or are you fishing for more compliments? Because to my astonishment, you're acting like little kid. Was it something I said?Sometimes my head stops thinking, when I say some stupid shit to you, you know I don't mean it, it's just the season, it's confusing, can we just get along?"

"LANDO MY COMMENTS ARE GOING CRAZYYYY! LOOK" I giggle in excitement as I flip my phone so he can scroll through the comments

slut4ln: MOM AND DAD PLEASE STOP! CHRISTMAS IS RIGHT AROUND THE CORNER AND I CAN'T DEAL WITH A DIVORCE RN

georgeswhore: I wake up from a nap to SEE THESE?!?!?!?!

leclercsgf: What the absolute fuck did they fight about that THEYRE BEEFING ON TWITTER FOR AND AIRING OUT A POTENTIAL BREAKUP???

>y/nforpresident: potential? honey I think they are done

Landoslefttoe: Lando kinda ate mom up though 😭😭

LewisHamilton: Answer your fucking phones now!

CharlesLeclerc: LANDO?? YOU CALL YOUR GIRLFRIEND "BITCH"??

CarlosSainz: Cabron, call me asap and fill me in

LoganSargeant: Does this mean I actually have a chance with Y/n?

"I'm choosing to ignore Logan's comment," Lando said flipping my phone back so I could read it. "When are we gonna go public and say it was a prank?" Lando asks as he readjusts himself on the bed, pulling me down and closer to him so we're cuddling

"We can tell them all tomorrow" I yawn as I cuddle closer to my boyfriend "goodnight handsome"

"Goodnight precious" lando whispers as he kisses my temple

<333333

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