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tokkiwrites · 2 months ago

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𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐒𝐈𝐋𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄.

summary: You work at a rundown bar, where the crowd is full of shady figures you’d rather avoid. Most nights, you keep to yourself, focusing on the drinks. But there’s one customer you can’t ignore: a handsome, older man who comes in every day, always ordering the same thing. And it seems he can't overlook you either.

tags: oldman!logan, hefty age gap but mentioned twice (logan is literally 100 and some), mutual feelings but no communication (for most of it), jealousy, violence, mention of blood, assault on reader (by drunk patrons), mention of wounds (reader cleans logan up), kind of angst idk, logan calls reader 'doll' & 'angel', no description of reader (reader is able bodied & and logan can pick reader up but he's like a mutant so yk), reader doesn't know about Logan’s powers, p in v (unprotected), afab!reader, fools in love [let me know if i missed anything!]

/ᐠ - ˕ -マ⁩ authors note 𑁯 ✿ wowza! i was gone and came back with a new obsession, OLD.MAN.LOGAN. mhm. this doesn't have sm nsfw stuff, but it has 4.2k words sooo yeah. ENJOY. Also, not beta read, so sorry !! love ya !!

The bar wasn’t much to look at. Dim lighting, peeling paint, and booths that had seen better days. It was the kind of place people wandered into when they didn’t want to be found or when they had nowhere else to go. You’d learned not to ask questions. The regulars didn’t expect conversation, just a steady stream of drinks to numb the rough edges of their lives.

You’d been working here long enough to recognize the different kinds of silence people carried. Some were heavy with anger, others with regret.

But his silence was different.

He’d come in every night, just as the sun sank beneath the horizon, the neon sign in the window flickering weakly. Always the same seat, always the same drink — a glass of whiskey, neat, then more as the night wore on. He never looked around, never talked to anyone, just sat there, brooding under the low light. But his eyesㅡ they had a way of finding you.

At first, it was just a glance here or there, easy enough to dismiss. But as the nights passed, you could feel his gaze linger, like he was waiting for something. Or maybe it was you who was waiting. You never talked. You barely even made eye contact when you set his glass down. But somehow, in the quiet, you understood each other. Like you were both drawn to the same place for reasons neither of you would say.

Day after day, it was the same routine. He’d walk in, nod slightly at you — never a word — and you’d pour his drink without being asked. There was something comforting in the rhythm of it. Something unspoken. the silence that both of you created.

Sometimes, you’d catch him watching the bar, his brow furrowed in thought, but when your eyes met, he’d turn away, like there was something he wasn’t ready to admit. Still, he came back. Every night. And every night, it was the same: the weight of what wasn’t said hung between you like cigarette smoke in the stale air.

The crowd didn’t notice. They never did. They were too wrapped up in their own noise, their own shadows. But in the quiet moments — the pauses between pouring drinks and wiping down the bar — there was him. And there was you.

Time passed like that. Silent, heavy, and slow. Days blending into nights, and nights blending into the weight of his presence at the corner of the bar. Neither of you said a word, but somehow, you both knew there was more.

Maybe it wasn’t meant to be spoken. Maybe it didn’t need to be. But you couldn’t deny it.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ׄ 　۪ 𓂃 ੭୧ 𓂃　۪ ׄ

The bar’s usual hum was interrupted by a loud group of men who barged in with a boisterous energy that filled the dim space. After a few drinks, their laughter was more intrusive, their voices carrying a raucous edge that unsettled most, if not all, patrons present. You took a deep breath, focusing on your steps as you approached their table again with a polite, strained smile.

“Can I get you anything else?” you asked, trying to keep your tone light despite the tension. “Yeah, sweetheart, another round,” the burly man at the center of the group said, leaning forward with a smirk that curled up almost to his eyes. “And make it quick.”

You nodded, turning on your heel to fetch their drinks. As you passed by, one of the men reached out and grabbed your thigh roughly. The touch was invasive, and you flinched, your face briefly contorting with discomfort before you masked it with a professional smile. “Please, just let me know if you need anything,” you said, trying to keep your voice steady. The man’s friends laughed, their eyes following you with lewd interest. “Hey, don’t be so uptight, princess” one with a red hat on called out. “Why don’t you come sit with us?”

You could feel the weight of their gazes as you moved around the bar, pouring drinks and clearing empty glasses. The men’s comments grew increasingly crude, their remarks about you becoming more suggestive with every passing minute. “You know, if you weren’t such a stuck-up bitch, maybe you’d actually enjoy some company,” another man said with a drunken grin. “Why don’t you come over here and have a drink with us? We promise we don't bite. unless you want us to."

You forced yourself to maintain your composure, slipping away to tend to other customers whenever possible. The discomfort was evident in the stiffness of your movements and the tightness in your voice as you continued to interact with them. “Is there anything else you need?” you asked, your attempt at politeness barely masking your growing unease. The men’s behavior grew increasingly aggressive. One particularly sleazy figure leaned closer as you approached their table. “Why don’t you come outside with us, baby?” he suggested with a smirk. “I bet we could show you a real good time.”

Your cheeks flushed with a mix of anger and embarrassment, but you managed to keep your head up. “Please, just be respectful,” you said, though your discomfort was evident in the way you avoided eye contact and focused intently on your tasks. The men continued to make more remarks, their laughter echoing around the bar. “You know, I bet she likes it rough,” one of them said, his tone dripping with false camaraderie. “Just look at her.”

As the night slipped, the men began to gather their things, their loud voices gradually fading as they prepared to leave. “See you around, sweetheart,” one of them called out, his voice slurred. “Hope to find you here next time.”

You watched them leave, the sound of their laughter fading into the night. Logan, who had been sitting silently in his usual corner, was now absent. The emptiness of his spot felt pronounced, and the tension in the room seemed to shift with his departure.

Finishing up your work, you closed the bar with a sense of relief, though the unease from the evening’s events lingered. When you stepped outside to lock up, the cool night air hit you, and you were met with a startling sight.

Logan was leaning against the wall outside the bar, his clothes smeared with blood and his face bearing the marks of a recent altercation. He took a slow drag from a cigarette, the smoke curling around him and blending with the chilly night air. Your breath caught in your throat as you took in the sight. Shock and concern etched on your face, you approached him slowly, your steps hesitant. The sight of him, battered and silent, was jarring.

without any words, from your pocket, you retrieved a handkerchief and extended it toward Logan. The white fabric embroidered with blue and yellow flowers stood out sharply against the dark stains of blood on his clothes. He accepted the handkerchief with a solemn nod, his gaze fixed on the ground. As he began to gently wipe away the blood from his gruff face, the night’s silence seemed to deepen, and alongside your quiet breath, spun you both into a dance.

You didn’t speak. He didn't speak. You both just stared at each other, and the bloodied fabric now snug into your fist yet again. your eyes finally stay locked with his for more than a few seconds. your heart almost stops, and you swear you see a smile play on his lips. a promise.

from the corner of your eye, you see a red hat on the ground.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ׄ 　۪ 𓂃 ੭୧ 𓂃　۪ ׄ

The street was quiet, the only sound your footsteps echoed in the stillness. Questions swirled in your mind, each one more urgent than the last. What had happened to Logan after the men left? Did he confront them? Did he hurt them—worse than they had hurt you?

thoughts raced with unsettling possibilities. Had he been driven to violence, and if so, had it been severe? Did he simply rough them up, or had the confrontation escalated to something darker? The idea that he might have crossed a line you could never have anticipated gnawed at you. The image of him, bloodied but silent, replayed in your mind, intertwining with the echoes of those moments you had to endure.

a promise.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ׄ 　۪ 𓂃 ੭୧ 𓂃　۪ ׄ

The following day broke clear and crisp, but the chill in the air did nothing to lighten your mood. You arrived at the bar early, the events of the previous night still fresh in your mind. The quiet morning gave way to the usual routine, and you tried to focus on your work, pushing aside the lingering thoughts about Logan. they were more apparent than usual, the thought of him hurting others because they had hurt you sent your heart into a frenzy. you cursed under your breath.

it's just a stupid crush, right?

As the evening approached and the bar began to fill with the usual crowd, you were busying yourself with the evening preparations when the door swung open. The familiar chime of the bell caught your attention, and your heart skipped a beat when you saw Logan enter. But he wasn’t alone.

At his side was an older woman, her presence a striking contrast to the dim surroundings. She was dressed in a sleek, elegant outfit that seemed to shimmer under the bar’s low lights. Her laughter was light and easy, and her touch intimate as she rested her hand on Logan’s arm. she was gorgeous.

The sight of them together was like a cold splash of waterㅡ No, it felt like molten glass was being spilled on your heart. You felt a pang of jealousy so sharp it was almost physical. The way the woman leaned into Logan and the easy familiarity they shared cut through you, and a knot of discomfort formed in your chest. oh, your poor heart.

You forced yourself to focus on your duties, though every glance toward their table felt like an intrusion on a scene that you wished you could unsee. Logan’s usually reserved demeanor seemed softened by the woman’s presence. They sat close together, sharing private jokes and smiles that seemed to exclude everyone else.

When you approached their table with a forced smile, the woman looked up at you with a polite but slightly inquisitive gaze. Logan’s eyes met yours briefly, and though he didn’t say anything, there was a faint hint of acknowledgment—or perhaps recognition.

“What can I get for you?”

Logan’s gaze lingered on you for a moment before he turned to the woman. “He’ll have what I’m having,” she said. “Gin and Tonic.” The woman smiled warmly at you. “Thank you,” she said, her voice light as she shooed you away.

You nod and walk away. He doesn't like that. He never drinks that. Who is she and why is she changing everything you've built with her 'Gin and Tonic' ? jealousy was bitter, like her Gin and Tonic, mingling with a shot of rejection that you struggled to swallow

The night dragged on, and you found yourself caught between the desire to avoid them and the want to know more. Every time you had to approach their table, you forced a smile, even as your heart ached. was what he done last night just charity work? is that all you are to him?

When the evening came to a close and the bar began to empty, you watched as Logan and the woman finished their drinks and prepared to leave. They shared a brief goodbye before she departed, leaving Logan alone at the table.

As you prepared to close up, Logan made his way to the bar. The clinking of glass and the quiet murmur of the remaining patrons faded into the background as you focused on tidying up. You glanced up and there he was, as breathtaking as ever.

“Can I get you anything else?” you ask him. it's the second time you've since asked him this since he started coming to this bar. “Just a whiskey,” he said quietly, his deep voice hugging you. When you returned with his drink, Logan accepted it with a silent nod. There was a brief pause, an awkward silence that seemed to stretch between you. it never felt this way. this quiet was loud, it wasn't yours. “I didn’t mean to cause any trouble,” he said, his voice low. “Last night...” You meet his eyes yet again, a guarded stare. “It’s not about that,” you replied, trying to keep your tone neutral. “I justㅡ" you try and bite your tongue. "I didn’t expect to see you with someone else.”

Logan’s eyes softened slightly, though his face remained inscrutable. “Things aren’t always what they seem,” he said quietly. “Sometimes it’s just about a moment of normalcy.”

wasn’t what you had normal enough?

you watched him leave, the bar yet again empty. and for the first time in months, you let yourself crumble. tears stream down your face and onto the dark wood of the counter.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ׄ 　۪ 𓂃 ੭୧ 𓂃　۪ ׄ

It was your day off. Your house was a haven of quietude. The sun had dipped below the horizon, leaving a soft twilight that wrapped around you as you stepped outside. The warmth of the day lingered in the air, tempered by a gentle breeze that rustled the leaves of the big tree shading your little bench.

You settled onto the bench, surrounded by the foliage and flowers that adorned your small garden. The rustling of leaves and the distant chirping of evening birds created a serene backdrop to your thoughts. You closed your eyes for a moment, letting the tranquility wash over you as you sought solace.

in your mind played a relentless loop. these past few days have really tugged at your strength. and you never knew how deep what you felt for Logan was, and how 'not normal' it might've seemed for him. "He would never be with me. I’m clearly way too young for him. Maybe I’m not mature enough...” The words felt like a feeble attempt to convince yourself of the impossibility of what you had hoped for. the streetlights began to flicker on, casting long shadows across the garden.

Just as you were about to stand and head inside, a sudden noise made you freeze. You turned your gaze and saw a figure emerging from the edge of the street.

Logan. but he was not the same as you remembered him. His clothes were torn and bloodied, his face marred with fresh woundsㅡ He moved with a weary, deliberate pace, each step seemingly heavy with the weight of his injuries. or maybe to not scare you away.

your serene backdrop shattered, in the middle of the cold surroundings was only Logan’s limping body as he made his way towards you. Meanwhile, your hands start to shake and for a moment it feels like you are dreaming, maybe you were still meditating on the bench. He came to a halt a few feet away. His eyes, though tired, met yours. There it was again, your silence. The silence you both built, and it came back, feeling so warm. He was hurt; why was he here? how does he know you live here?

“What happened?” you asked, your voice barely more than a whisper, laden with worry. You took a step toward him, your gaze darting over his injuries with growing concern. He remained silent, looking away —perhaps a silent plea or a quiet admission. weighing whether to speak or to simply endure, he looked back up at you.

"Let me help you." you speak up again, eyes furrowed softly. "Please?"

With a slow nod, Logan permitted you to guide him into your cozy home. The interior was a sanctuary of warmth and soft light, a stark contrast to the chill that clung to him from the outside. You gently led him to the couch, where he sank down with a weary sigh. You moved with purpose, retrieving the first aid kit from a nearby cabinet, your mind focused on easing his pain, as Logan focused on your adorned house, every corner a small piece of you.

you began to tend to his injuries, the only sounds being the quiet rustling of bandages and Logan’s occasional, pained breath. After the last bandage was in place, you took a seat across from him, the soft chair creaking slightly as you settled.

“What happened?” you asked again, your voice soft but insistent. Logan started, “About the woman from last night—”

“I don’t care about her. I just want to know who did this to you.” you interrupted. He looked at you, a mix of frustration and resignation in his eyes. “No, it’s her. She worked for a company. They were after something from me—blood samples for some experiments. I don’t—”

He hesitated, struggling to explain. “Look, it’s not just about her. It’s more complicated than that. They’re connected to people who don’t play fair. I ended up having to defend myself.”

“You shouldn’t have to go through this alone.”

Logan’s gaze softened as he met your eyes. “There’s something I need to tell you,” he said quietly. “I didn’t want to complicate things. I didn’t want to bring you into this mess.”

You paused him, your hands stilling. “What is it?”

Logan took a deep breath, the weight of his words evident in his expression. “It’s not just about the trouble I’m in. It’s... it’s about how I feel."

"When I come to the bar... it’s more than just the whiskey." you heart stops and starts back again with double the force. "I’ve developed feelings for you, doll. Strong feelings.” his voice. he was vulnerableㅡ sincere. “I know it’s complicated, with our age difference, and I know I haven’t made things easy being always silentㅡ But I had to be honest with you. I care about you more than I thought I would.”

"Logan, Iㅡ" he kneeled in front of you, so fast, taking into his calloused palms your own trembling ones as he spoke again. "I know, you don't need to say anything. I know you could never fall for someone like me." like him? but how you wished everyone was like him, and no one at the same time, so he could be all your own. "I won't force you, just.."

"Please let me speak, Logan..." you interjected gently. You took a deep breath, trying to steady yourself. "I didn’t want to admit it to myself, but it’sㅡ it's been eating my heart alive. From the moment you first came to that bar exactly five months ago, thats how long I've waited for you to speak." tears brim at your eyes. “I didn’t know how to put it into words. Every night you came in, every glance, every silent conversation—it all made me realize how deeply and painfully I fell. it’s been tearing me apart to keep it to myself, and it sucks that it took a jealousy-induced panic attack for me to finally admit it" You laughed softly, the sound tinged with sadness as you tried to hide your tears.

Logan’s gaze softened as his rough thumb drew small circles on the back of your hand. "Doll..." He paused, searching for the right words. “I’m sorry for making you go through that. I should have been braver." You shook your head, a tear slipping down your cheek. “No, it’s not entirely your faultㅡ I was scared too. Scared of what my feelings meant, scared of how you might react...”

"We were both afraid then, doll. But now, we’ve got a chance to face it together. If you’re willing.”

your heart ached so good, hoping this wasn't only a dream. "I am so willing." a smile broke through your sobs and Logan finally embraced you. As you pressed against him, you felt the steady beat of his heart, a rhythmic reminder that this was realㅡ that this was happening. His body was solid and reassuring, radiating a heat that seemed to seep into your very soul. It was a warmth that was strangely familiar, as if your heart had always known this moment was meant to be. The softness of his shirt against your cheek, his scent filling your sensesㅡ There was something profoundly beautiful about this first embrace. like discovering a cherished melody for the first time, one that resonated deep within you. you had known this comfort all along, buried within the unspoken parts of both your souls.

the world outside was distant, it was just the two of you. Logan pulls away for a second and his eyes meet yours. Slowly, he leaned in, his lips brushing against yoursㅡ it left you breathless. You had only dreamed of this. His lips melded with yours, and again it felt like the silence you both always shared.

When you finally pulled away, both breathless and a little disoriented, he asks through low gasps, hands cupping your blushed cheeks. "Let me show you how much I care, doll." and you can only whimper a soft 'yes' as his lips crash onto your neck, painting soft kisses and marks that tomorrow morning will look like lilac petals.

he picks you up effortlessly, and through stolen moans you guide him to your bedroom, where he places you upon the bed and stares from over you. "Undress for me, angel." he's firm in what he wants, and when you catch a glimpse of the bulge that's formed in his roughed up jeans you quickly comply. you leave yourself naked under his eyes, hands placed on your sides to support yourself. "You're so beautiful. I'm going to make you all mine." Logan groans as he starts to peel off his clothes, revealing his almost healed wounds. "I was already yours.." you whisper, and he smiles in the corner of his mouth.

he takes his time, first he preps kisses upon your breasts, then down to you bellybutton, and finally to your thighs. Logan chuckles as he parts your legs further and reveals your dripping core. "She’s ready for me, ain't she?" you muster up a 'mhm' and nip at you bottom lip as he pulls himself up and positions his hardened manhood between your legs, where you could see it better. you'd be lying if you said you weren't scared. this wasn't your first time, but it was the first time you'd ever seen a cock like hisㅡ you wondered how it'll fit.

"Don't worry, angel. I'll go slow. Promise" he pressed a kiss on your forehead before aligning himself with your entrance. Slowly, he pushes in just the tip making you yelp as the sting spread through your pussy. you stare him deep in the eyes as he pushes in further, hushing you along the way. it was so bigㅡ too big. but you loved it, you loved that it was all you dreamed about and more.

"Please, Logan..." with that, he pushes in all the way, ripping through you, his precum mixing with your juices that were flowing over his cock. he thrusts in you cunningly, gripping your hips tightly and licking long strips down your neck. all you could do is sit there and take it. "So pretty, dollㅡ fuck..." he moans, indulging further into you. your hips crash with his, and you try your best to say quiet as you feel his cock hit so deep, you're sure it reached your stomach. the room spun with you, little pleads dripping from your lips.

after a few more pumps that familiar feeling was pooling at your core, causing you to tighten around Logans's length, which made him grunt and pull your hips flush to his "that's it, angel. come around my cock, c'monㅡ shit."

you let go. bliss and pleasure take over you as your body contorts under Logan, your walls fluttering around his shaft perfectly. it doesn't take him long reach his high, pumping a few more times into you before he take his cock out and paints your stomach with white, silky strands.

for a few moments, you sit there in silence. your silence.

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