#this has been me and logan the past 2 weeks

[endless-ineffabilities]

modern Aemond / Ewan having to deal with his chronically online girlfriend blurting out — I like my sootcase — every five minutes.

"What? What suitcase?" 😂

[logansargeantsbabymom]

Can you write one about were Logan x female reader x oscar or Lando x female reader x Oscar or Logan x Female reader x oscar x lando

Where They are at a afterparty for a race and since y/n was being a needy and bratty all race week and weekend long before they went to the after party some one of the 2-3 drivers had put a vibrator up her ass and at the party since she was still acting needy and bratty they started to turn up the power of the vibrator as they keep teasing her until she is on the edge about to cum and they stop telling her it’s her punishment for taking bratty all week and race weekend long as she started to beg and plead to let herself finish, they all take a car home to there shared apartment and but the vibrator at max power again and continue this in their room were they end up have unprotected sex, use rope and a mouth gag, blindfold, call her dirty names and say dirtier things to her or in her ear and after for aftercare they take super good care of her

Oscar is a Dom and in charge Lando and Logan can we doms or switchs, y/n is a sub

I'm actually gnawing at the bars of my enclosure right now, I love you anonymous 😘🫣.

You Shouldn't Have Done That

Oscar Piastri x Fem!Reader x Logan Sargeant x Lando Norris

I hope I did you justice (for gotham)

Warnings: SMUT, Bondage, Vibrators, Overstimulation, Bratty Y/N, Sucker Logan, Mean Lando, MEANER Oscar, Crying, Slapping, Anal, Triple Penetration, probably more but I forgot

F1 Masterlist

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part 2

A knock at the door is what drew my attention away from my phone that I'd been staring at for the last 15 minutes reading a few of these 'fan fictions' about my boyfriends that people were DMing me. Apparently somebody with no life named 'logansargeantsbabymom' has been making shit smut and posting it on Tumblr.

"Baby, race is about to start" I could recognize that beautiful English accent from a mile away.

Normally hearing Lando's incredibly sexy voice would make my bones start jumping in my skin but apparently I'm not the only fucking one because people fantasize about having the filthiest sex with him, write about it, post it on Tumblr and his fans eat it up!!

"I'm coming" I said nonchalantly as I got off the sofa that Lando had in his drivers room.

Lando held the door open for me as I brushed past him making my way to the back of the garage and then out of it. I didn't want to see him.

"What's wrong with her?" Oscar says as he came up from behind Lando

"I've got no clue but if she keeps it up I'm fucking it out of her" Lando shrugged before putting his helmet on

One thing about me is that I will make sure I am the one that puts on all three of my boyfriends helmets on them. I love to go up on my tippy toes to bite the tip of their nose before placing a kiss on it then the helmet on them. I've always done it even if we had gotten into the biggest argument on planet earth but right now, that's the last thing I wanted to do for Lando. I couldn't do it for Oscar either because then I'd fell bad for doing our normal race day tradition on Oscar and then just dipping and leaving Lando alone.

I also didn't want to deal with the consequences of "favoriting" Logan if I only did it for him so I skipped out on the tradition as a whole. The race was about to start in 10 minutes which means the drivers are all about to or already in their car and getting ready to get out on the track. I couldn't go back into the McLaren garage or I'd have to face two of the three boyfriends I'd just pissed off and I couldn't go to the Williams garage because they probably already texted Logan. So I went to the next best place: The Mercedes Garage.

I was forbidden to go in the Mercedes garage alone because apparently Lewis has a 'thing' for me, which wouldn't surprise me because I'm hot.

"Hey Y/N, what're you doing here? Aren't you supposed to be biting your boyfriends' noses?" I knew that cheeky English accent and it belong to the man that I was never to be in a room with alone.

"Lewis! Supposed to? Yes. Am? No, they pissed me off so I'm ignoring them." I shrugged. I really couldn't care less how they were going to react to me breaking tradition.

"Isn't that just going to get you in trouble?" Lewis said cautiously

"Not as much trouble I'll be in if they find out I was here with you alone." I chuckled as I shrugged.

I felt my phone vibrating in my pocket like crazy which caused me to whip it out and see what the fuck was going on.

Fantastic 4

Fav Butt Plug: I swear to the heavens above Y/N if this girl whose on the screen right now is you in the Mercedes garage with Lewis ALONE, I'm having your ass tonight. Oscunt: I want to know what the fuck has you all pissed at Lando but I don't like your little stunt of ignoring ME. Me: Stalkers Logie: Baby, why didn't you come to put my helmet on? Fav Butt Plug: You have one more time to piss me off Y/N.

"Lewis do you want to help me with something real quick?" The idea I had in mind was sure to make the tabloids right away and send the internet into a frenzy

"I don't like the general direction of where your idea's go." I waved a hand at him

"Let me put your helmet on you, I promise there will be no kissing" I looked at the clock, Lewis had 5 minutes before he was to be getting on the track and with a quick nod of his head I took the helmet out of his hands before securing it on his head before giving him a big smile and a bear hug before he was ushered into his car.

As I was exiting the Mercedes garage, I didn't know where I was going to go. Everyone is still in their respective garages and I'm NOT facing my boyfriends right now. Shortly after my encounter with

Fantastic 4 Fav Butt Plug: expect 10 orgasms MINIMUM tonight. Oscunt: None of which from me so don't ask. Logie: Did I do something baby? Why did you put Lewis' helmet on and not mine? Oscunt: Logan, she's being a brat. She didn't put mine or Lando's helmets on. Logie: I'm sorry for whatever I did to you, my sweet girl Oscunt: She acts this way because you give into her every ask, this is your fault Logan. I hope you crash. Logie: first of all, don't say that because I still don't have a seat for next season. Secondly, I do give into her every word because she's my pillow princess. Me: At least someone appreciates me, I love you Logan Logie: I love you more. Oscunt: She was never spoiled or a brat until you came along Logan, maybe you deserved to get punished alongside your dear 'pillow princess'. Me: Don't you dipshits (not you Logan) have a race? Stop texting me and drive.

————————

And drive is exactly what they did because Lando came in 1st, Oscar 3rd and Logan 4th.

The race was definitely a hard one with the on and off rain, the wall of champions and the hairpin but somehow they all managed it and they did it well.

Usually when one of my boyfriends has a good race weekend the victory sex is amazing but all 3 of them placed in the top 4? I don’t think I’m getting ANY rest tonight.

I stood by the scale so I could congratulate 2 of my boyfriends for their victory podiums but after they were congratulated by their team and they recorded their weights, they walked right past me.

I felt a sharp pain in my heart at their act but then I realized why they did what they did, I was being a brat before the race but if they wanna act like that, I will one up them.

I turned my head to the man who was currently getting his weight recorded and the man who came in second. It also happens to be the same man who I’m not allowed to be alone with.

“LEWIS!! CONGRATULATIONS!” I screamed as I hugged him, making sure to make the hug last a little longer than a typical ‘friend’ hug would last while also swaying us side to side.

"Y/N! Thank you, thank you. Are you coming to the after party, we already rented out the whole bar?" There was a little sparkle in his eyes that gave me an idea.

A sly smirk plastered itself on my face "Of course, I wouldn't miss it for the world, especially if you're going to be there!" I placed a quick kiss on his cheek before placing my hand where I had just placed the kiss.

"Y/N!!" It was a loud and angry yell that should've scared me but it did the exact opposite, it turned me on.

I turned to face the person the voice belonged to, to see Lando with the meanest glare I've ever seen on his face. I gave a little nod goodbye to Lewis before making my way to Lando.

"Hey my handsome winner" I said when I got close enough as I ran my hand through his thick and messy curls, it didn't last long though because he grabbed my wrist and dragged me with him to his drivers room.

When we got there he opened the door and shoved me inside where I was met with my other two boyfriends who looked less than pleased with me. Lando slammed the door shut which caused me to jump and face him.

Lando's face didn't shift a bit from his angry demeanor. "Oh, is bunny scared? Surprised she can act any other way that isn't bratty" I heard a voice from behind me say as a chest was up pressed against my back and felt the back of a hand trace the side of my face before gripping the flesh of my throat.

"Oscar" it came out as a choked groan

I saw Logan from the corner of my eyes fishing something out of a box that Lando had stowed away behind the sofa before he made his way over to us. Oscar still had his hand on my throat but he ushered me towards the massage bed Lando has before aggressively bending me over on it which caused me to let out a groan. I could hear Logan's footsteps coming closer to where Lando was before handing him a pink object and I felt Oscar's hand at the hem of my leggings before yanking them down along with my panties.

At first Oscar was just playing with the flesh of my ass and occasionally leaving harsh slaps on it saying things like "You asked for this", "take this part of your punishment like a good girl and maybe I'll tell Lando to go easy on you." I heard Lando whisper something to Oscar and then I felt one more final and harsh slap on my ass before I felt Oscar's hands spread open my ass cheeks and forced his thumb in my tight asshole thrusting it in and out before shoving the Lush lovense vibrator where his thumb once was.

A loud string of moans and curse words left my lips before I felt a pair of lips on mine swallowing my moans. When he pulled away, I opened my eyes to see my favorite American right there looking at me with sympathetic eyes. Logan never liked when I got punished and had to deal with all the roughness Lando and Oscar put me through, he only liked soft, vanilla sex most of the time.

"It's okay baby, just be good" Logan said before he placed a soft and tender kiss on my lips.

Oscar's rough hands yanked me back into a standing position and Lando bent over to lift my leggings back up and over my waist before lightly slapping my cheek

"This is how you're going to the afterparty, don't you even think about cumming until we get home OR unless me or Oscar give you permission." I knew he was going to leave Logan out of giving me permission because he gives me basically everything I want with just a bat of my lashes.

-----

We've only been in this bar/club for less than 30 minutes and I'm already sweating. I'm not sweating because there's a lot of people in here all grinding against each other, no I'm sweating because Lando keeps turning the vibrator on the fastest setting and letting it go just until I'm about to cum before he turns it off denying me any sort of relief and he's done this about 6 times already. I can't do this anymore.

Lando turned the vibrator on full blast and watched as I squirmed in my seat as I was having a conversation with Alex

"Are you okay? You're sweating more than normal right now and you keep fidgeting" Poor Alex, she seemed so concerned

"Yeah I just have to go to the bathroom, I've had to pee for a while now but I didn't want to interrupt your story" It wasn't a total lie, I didn't want to interrupt her story but I didn't have to pee.

"Oh Y/N, go to bathroom, I'll be here!" with that I quickly made my way to the ladies room quickly checking every stall before settling into one and taking the vibrator out of my ass, sighing in relief before wrapping it in toilet paper and tossing it into the bin.

Exiting the stall with a smile on my face, I quickly washed my hands before making my way back to Alex.

"Hey, sorry about that again. I really had to go" I tried to sound sincere, mainly because I was.

Alex finished telling me about her story about how Charles surprised her with a trip to Sydney and all the fun things they did over in the down under when I felt quick and rapid taps on my shoulder, prompting me to look at the man who was tapping me aggressively.

"Baby, we have to go now, Logan just got really sick" My heart dropped and I looked over Lando's shoulder to see Oscar helping Logan out of the bar.

"I'm sorry Alex, I have to go" I didn't wait for her response before I bolted past Lando and out the door.

Much to my surprise when I made it past the bar doors, I saw Logan and Oscar laughing up a storm and having a good time. My mouth hung in shock as I couldn't believe the sight in front of me. I was about to turn around to give Lando a piece of my mind for lying to me and making me cut my conversation short.... AGAIN.

"Lando! How dare you lie-" I couldn't finish my sentence due to Lando holding up his hand signaling me to shut up before pulling his phone out and flipping it.

The sight made my face drop, he was currently showing me the app he has to control my vibrator setting and it was all the way up.

"Bunny, do you know how many times I turned this up tonight?" Lando tilted his head and when I didn't answer he tsked before walking closer to me "I'm not asking you again. Answer me like a good girl and I won't punish you."

"You won't?" he shook his head "I took it out at 6, I don't know how many more times you did it after"

"I turned it up 4 more times after you took it out." I felt a body against my back

"Just wait until we get home for your punishment " Oscar whispered in my ear before slapping my ass so hard I let out a little yelp

"I thought I wasn't getting punished?" I said confused

"No, I said I wasn't punishing you. I said nothing about Oscar" A cocky smirk plastered itself on Lando's insanely hot face and I watched as him and Oscar both got into Lando's McLaren.

I felt a hand on the small of my back and I turned to see Logan, he seemed to have a sympathetic look on his face "I tried to get them to come up with a different type of punishment then what you're getting but they didn't want to hear it. Don't say I didn't try to help you"

Oh god.

----

When we got back to Oscar's apartment, I almost didn't want to go in. I didn't have to have to endure the punishments they had in store for me but Oscar didn't take lightly to that and in 2 seconds flat he threw me over his shoulders and walked me to his room.

Lando had made his way to his room to get what he claimed was 'part of your punishment' while Logan closed the door to the apartment. Oscar had chucked me on the bed before yanking me to the edge of it, holding a hand on my chin forcing me to look at him in the eyes.

"Strip" was all Oscar said. I did as I was told because I already knew I was in for a long night and I didn't want to push Oscar any further.

I started slowly unbuttoning my dress shirt but Oscar didn't like that, he ripped the shirt open sending the buttons flying everywhere. I wanted to yell at him for ruining my favorite shirt but I knew there was going to be no point. When Lando and Logan walked in the room I could tell they also knew that I wouldn't be in the pubic eye for about a week after all three of them were done with me.

Logan made his way around and on the bed to be right behind me "These tits, oh my gosh. You're going to be the death of me" Logan mumbled into the crook of my neck as his hands made their way around my body to grope my chest.

"I can't wait to burry my cock in her tight little ass" Lando said as he sat on the bed beside me and started to kiss my shoulder. I let out a string of moans as I had two pairs of lips kissing and sucking on two different parts of my body

"Wanna tell me what made you so upset earlier that caused you to be bratty all day today? Hmm?" Lando said as his hand snaked its way down my stomach and under the elastic of my leggings.

"Let's take these off, yeah?" Oscar said as he yanked them off my body.

My legs instinctively opened to allow Lando more access to where I ached for him the most.

"I saw- oh my gosh Lando, please" I was cut off my Lando having inserted two digits into my pussy, thrusting them in and out while his thumb started rubbing circles on my clit.

"I believe Lando asked you a question Bunny" Oscar said as he reached his hands around my body to unclasp my bra.

His one hand immediately found my breast and started circling my nipples as Logan moved to the opposite side of him to attach his mouth to my other breast, swirling his tongue around the bud of my nipple.

"I saw people fantasize about fucking you. All of you" it sounded pathetic and hypocritical coming from me because I did the exact same thing before I got with all three of them.

"Bunny, we only have eyes for you." Lando said as he kiss the tip of my nose "But you're still getting punished" with that Lando grabbed me and yanked my body onto his, my back against his chest as he fists his cock a few times before aligning it to my asshole and thrusting up and in my tight hole. A loud cry escaped my lips before Oscars mouth found mine drowning out the noise. I felt the cushion of the bed dip before feeling a tap on my face, I opened it to see Logan cock right next to my face.

My mouth instinctively opened and took his cock in, moaning at the taste of his precum on my tongue. Logan started to thrust his cock in my mouth at a pace that had drool running down my chin in no time. The sound of me choking on Logans cock and skin to skin contact from Lando's painfully rough thrusts was all that filled the room. Oscar soon joined the party as he shoved his cock into my cunt with no warning which caused me to pull my mouth away from Logan cock to let out an unexpected screech.

"I didn't say you could stop sucking my cock, now did I?" Logan said as he gripped my face and shoved his cock back in my mouth, this time he fucked my face with so much force I thought I was fucking a different guy.

Soon enough after everyones strokes and pace matched, I knew I was one step closer to the edge and I was about to break (pls get the linkin park reference) . I felt the coil in the stomach tighten and my orgasm was finally about to wash over me tonight.

As if they all read my mind or just knew my body, the all simultaneously pulled out and left me nothing.

"No!" I cried at the empty feeling washing over my body, it all felt like sudden coldness.

"You didn't think we were letting you off the hook that easily did you?" Lando's tone mocking as he ordered "Go up against the headboard"

I did as I was told knowing there was no point in fighting them. Once I was against the board, I watched Lando as he grabbed what he went to his room for: A blindfold, rope and one singular feather.

Lando tossed the rope to Oscar who immediately started tying my wrists to the bedposts and threw the blindfold to Logan who eagerly took it out the packaging and on my face.

The room fell silent for about a minute after I was tied up, no one moved, no one talked. I felt the bed dip and the movement caused my whole body to tense, soon after I felt the feather being dragged up my thigh to my stomach before feeling it swirl around my nipples. A mix of moans, groans, and "fuck"s all left my mouth as I felt my orgasm creeping closer.

"Baby, I'm going to fuck you now, okay?" Oscar said before he aligned himself with the entrance of my cunt before sliding in with ease, his thrusts started off slow and sensual, allowing me to adjust to his size before his thrust became rough and erratic.

Oscar wasn't the only one eager to get his dick wet because I felt a thumb tap my bottom lip, signaling me to open it before I felt a cock brush past my lips. Based on his thrust in my mouth, I could tell it was Lando's cock that I was currently sucking, his pace relentless.

Oscar's hips started stuttering against my body as his thrusts slowed and I knew he was close to his orgasm. One thing about Oscar is that when he cums, he never wants to do it alone which means I'm finally about to get my release that's been eluding me all night.

Oscar abruptly pulled his cock out of me leaving me empty and orgasmless again, my disappointment didn't last long because as fast as Oscar pulled out Logan just as fast attached his mouth to my clit, swirling his tongue around the sensitive bud bringing me close to my orgasm, which I was fully prepared to not have again.

Much to my surprise Logan didn't stop which prompted me to wrap my legs around his head making sure he couldn't go anywhere as he pushed me off the edge and I came with a loud strings of cursing and chants of 'Logan' leaving my mouth as my body shuddered and my legs squeezed around Logan head. I felt him moan against my vagina which made my body jerk upward at the vibrations.

Soon after I came down from my high, I felt a strong pair of hands yanking my legs apart before feeling Logan because torn away from my pussy.

"You shouldn't have done that Logan" Lando whispered in his ear.

------

y'all- if there's typos or a part doesn't make sense its because I'm sleepy. I wanted to put something out because I haven't in like 3 days or something like that and I felt bad.

taglist:

@luckyladycreator2 @itsmiamalfoy @jeffs77 @ilivbullyingjeongin @forevercaffeinated-lee @daemyratwst @gulphulp @callsignwidow @f1wintermoon13 @teenwolf01 @victoriassecret101 @hiireadstuff @formulaal @eddieharrington @kazza72584 @zabwlky1999 @dark-night-sky-99 @rougekiki @xoscar03 @jess-wither @bountychanti @dhanihamidi @Ggasly.p @tellybearryyyy @a-panseuxalmess @love-simon @tallrock35 @iiaik0ii

[pandapetals]

Sanctuary - Part One

Logan and Wade are sent by Stryker to find a journalist who has been digging around trying to expose Team X. Logan isn't prepared when he meets an intriguing neighbor causing him to question himself and the mission.

origins logan howlett x fem!reader - team x mission, shy reader, no y/n, she/her pronouns used instead of you, logan's pov, origins wade, awkwardness, guarded feelings, angst, AU, crushes, logan kinda being a stalker, stryker and victor cameos, fighting, cussing, wade being a good friend, reserved logan

a/n: Okay buckle up because this is a long author’s note but when do i not make an essay? I’m an origins girlie and will find any excuse to write about origins logan (it was the first fic i wrote) so here we are with another one. Idk if this makes sense—maybe it’s an AU where logan just works with team x but somehow doesn’t go through the weapon x program idk, okay. It started as a one shot of shy reader (the club scene) then ended up becoming the longest thing i have ever written for logan. I’ve been working on it for the past 2…maybe 3 weeks and yeah…finally posting it after editing it. I was gonna make it a sad, angsty ending but i can’t do it, i just can’t. Logan deserves happy endings. P.s. it’s from logan’s POV that’s why it’s she/her pronouns instead of you. I’m used to writing in third person (creative writing major here) but for fics i usually do second person but here i just wanted to do something different. So sue me.

apparently this is too long to post in one go so here's part one and here's part two

word count: 40k

divider credit: @enchanthings

Logan rubbed the bridge of his nose, trying to ignore the endless stream of chatter pouring from Wade’s mouth. It was like trying to drown out the buzz of a fly that just wouldn’t leave him alone.

“Logan?” Wade’s voice cut through the humid night air like a blade.

“Wade, for the love of God, shut up,” Logan muttered, low and gruff. “I can’t hear anything if you keep flappin’ your damn jaw.”

Across the street, neon lights flickered on the facade of a rundown bar, casting fractured shadows over a row of grime-slicked windows above. The air smelled of stale beer and gasoline, tinged with a hint of rot. Logan took a deep breath, focusing, scanning for any sign of their target—the journalist who’d gotten too curious about things he had no business knowing.

Wade just rolled his eyes, unfazed by Logan’s irritation. “I was just trying to tell you…that’s our guy,” he said, nodding towards a short, nervous-looking man slipping into the front door of the apartment building above the bar. The man’s hands were shoved deep in his coat pockets, head down, moving quickly, like he wanted to be invisible.

Logan’s eyes narrowed. Something about the guy didn’t feel right. But they didn’t have much else to go on, and he didn’t have the patience to argue with Wade right now.

“Fuck,” he muttered under his breath. He gestured for Wade to follow, and they crossed the street, dodging a couple of potholes filled with oily rainwater. The entryway smelled even worse up close like someone had left a pile of garbage to rot right inside the door.

Inside, the dim hallway was narrow and claustrophobic, with walls covered in peeling, faded wallpaper that might have once been green. Logan’s steps were silent, practiced—Wade’s, not so much. His boots thudded against the cracked linoleum as he craned his neck, looking around like a tourist on his first big-city adventure.

They found the apartment number and pushed their way in, catching the man off guard as he fumbled to pull a sandwich out of a paper bag. He dropped it with a startled yelp, hands flying up in surrender, eyes wide and terrified.

His voice came out in a high, trembling squeak. “L-look, I don’t want any trouble! I can give you money—I swear, I don’t have much, but—”

Wade cocked his head, raising a skeptical brow. “Money? Oh, sweetheart, we’re not here for money.” He let the word drip like honey, and the man flinched. Wade leaned in, studying the man like he was an insect pinned to a board. “You don’t know anything about Team X?”

The man’s face went pale, a sheen of sweat breaking out on his forehead. He shook his head frantically, words spilling out in a stammered mess. “N-no, I swear—I’m just an accountant, alright? I don’t know what you’re talking about. Team…what? I’ve never even heard of it.”

Logan stood back, watching the guy’s every twitch, every dart of his eyes. Fear had a way of squeezing the truth out of people, and this guy looked like he was about to come apart at the seams. Logan’s jaw tightened, his nostrils flaring slightly. He caught Wade’s eye and gave a small, almost imperceptible nod. The poor bastard was clean—just some pencil pusher in the wrong place at the wrong time.

Wade’s grin only widened a slow, wicked curve that made Logan’s stomach sink. He recognized that look: Wade had just had one of his bright ideas.

Wade clapped the accountant on the shoulder, making the man jump. “Well, congrats, pal. You’ve just saved yourself from a world of hurt. But I gotta ask—you like it here?” He gestured around the dingy apartment, where the wallpaper was peeling into long, damp strips and the faint odor of mildew hung in the air. “Nice digs. Bet the landlord’s a gem.”

The accountant blinked, looking from Wade to Logan in bewilderment as if he was just realizing they weren’t here to kill him. “Uh…I guess? I mean, it’s not the worst place I’ve lived.” 

“Perfect.” Wade snapped his fingers, eyes lighting up like a kid who’d just been handed a new toy.

Logan shot Wade a warning look. “Wade. Don’t even start.”

Wade ignored him, snapping his fingers again as if he’d just solved world hunger. “Think about it, Logan. We get a lease here. Set up a cozy little base. I’ll bring a lava lamp, we’ll order takeout, and we can scope out every last tenant till we find this guy. Like fishing, but in an apartment building.”

Logan scowled, crossing his arms. “You’re saying we go through the hassle of a rental application. Background checks. And wait.”

“Come on, think of it as blending in! Imagine us as friendly neighborhood roommates, huh?” Wade slapped him on the shoulder, a little too enthusiastically. “We can get to know the neighbors. Borrow a cup of sugar. You’ll look adorable in an apron.”

Logan let out a low growl, but he could see Wade wouldn’t let it go. They were running out of options, and if this journalist were smart, he’d be laying low. A bit of patience might be the only way to catch him off guard.

“Fine,” he muttered, the word tasting bitter. “But if you so much as mention lava lamps again, I’m throwing you out the window.”

Wade’s grin was all teeth. “Deal. Now let’s go talk to the landlord. You want to do the talking, or should I?” He turned back to the accountant, clapping him on the shoulder again. “Thanks for the inspiration, buddy. Now, if you don’t mind, we’ll just let ourselves out.”

The accountant sank onto his couch, looking dazed, still clutching his sandwich like it was a life preserver. Logan followed Wade to the door, shaking his head. Somehow, he knew this stakeout was going to be the longest assignment of his life.

▬▬ι═══════ﺤ

“Well, Stryker isn’t happy,” Wade was saying, his voice an incessant buzz in the background. “But when is that dude ever happy? I feel bad for his wife—assuming she exists. Maybe he just clones himself a girlfriend every year. Could you imagine? ‘Sorry, honey, I’ll be home late tonight, gotta send a couple of mutants to—’”

Logan ignored Wade’s rambling as he surveyed their new “home.” Calling it a dump would’ve been generous. The wallpaper was peeling, a thick layer of grime coated the windows, and the faint smell of mildew seeped out from behind the walls. They were at least lucky enough to have separate rooms, but even with a door to shut Wade out, Logan doubted he’d get much peace.

“Did he give you any more information?” Logan finally cut in, hoping Wade might actually have something useful.

Wade blinked, as if surprised that Logan was listening. “About the journalist?”

Logan clenched his teeth. “No—of course about the fucking journalist. Like what the guy might look like, or any other detail that could help us find him?”

Wade shrugged, completely unfazed by Logan’s irritation. “Nope. Stryker was being vague again. Just the usual cryptic bullshit. I swear, the dude is losing it. First, he sends us out here to find some mystery man—”

Logan rolled his eyes, tuning Wade out. They’d been here for a week now, trawling through this run-down building and questioning almost every unlucky soul who happened to live here, and they were no closer to finding their target than when they’d started. Stryker hadn’t given them much to go on, which only made Logan suspect that there was more to this mission than he was letting on.

Finally, Logan couldn’t take it anymore. He grabbed his jacket off the back of a chair and headed for the door. “I’ll be back,” he muttered over his shoulder, already halfway out.

Wade called after him. “Where are you going? Got a hot date?”

Logan didn’t dignify that with an answer. He took the stairs down two at a time, feeling a grim sense of relief as he stepped outside and let the cool night air hit him. The bar below their building wasn’t much better than the apartment—it was dim, grimy, and smelled faintly of stale beer and spilled whiskey. But at least it was quiet.

He pushed open the door and made his way inside, hoping he might get a few moments to himself, maybe even a drink strong enough to dull the ever-present headache that came with dealing with Wade.

The place was nearly empty, just a few regulars hunched over the bar and a lone woman sitting in a booth near the back. Logan’s gaze lingered on her for a moment longer than he meant to. She looked…out of place. Pretty, in a way that seemed wasted on a hole like this. 

She was sitting alone in a corner booth, a book propped open in front of her. Her hair fell over her face as she read, strands catching in the dim light, and she seemed oblivious to the world around her. There was a quiet stillness about her, a kind of focused calm that didn’t quite fit in a bar like this. Logan found himself wondering what a woman like her was doing here, in a place that looked like it had seen one too many bar fights and smelled like it.

For a moment, he debated going over, then caught himself. Not here to make friends, he reminded himself. Still, his gaze kept drifting back to her, curiosity nagging at him. She didn’t look like the regulars in this place—she was younger, softer, with a certain self-contained reserve that drew him in despite himself.

Maybe it was the whiskey, or maybe it was the exhaustion of the past week catching up to him, but before he knew it, he’d grabbed his glass and walked over to her booth.

She looked up, eyes widening slightly as he approached. Logan stopped just short of her table, suddenly aware of how rough he must look after days on the road, stubble shadowing his jaw, his clothes rumpled and worn. He cleared his throat.

“Mind if I sit?” His voice was softer than he intended, and he cursed himself for feeling the slightest bit nervous.

She hesitated, then gave a small nod, closing her book. Up close, he could see the way her eyes flicked over him, assessing but cautious. She didn’t say anything—just looked at him, as if waiting for him to explain why he’d interrupted her quiet.

“You live upstairs?” he asked, nodding toward the ceiling. He thought he might’ve seen her in the hallway when he and Wade moved in, but he hadn’t paid much attention at the time.

“Down the hall,” she said softly, her voice barely carrying over the dull hum of the jukebox. “I saw you moving in yesterday. You and…your friend.”

Logan almost chuckled at that. Wade was a lot of things, but “friend” was stretching it. “Yeah, sorry about him. He’s…a handful.”

A hint of a smile tugged at her lips, a glimmer of amusement that made him feel just a little less like a stranger in a strange place. “I noticed.”

He found himself studying her face—the slight curve of her smile, the way her fingers toyed with the edge of her book as if part of her mind was still half in whatever story she’d been reading. Something about her felt…steady. Centered. It was a quality he’d rarely seen in anyone.

“Logan,” he said, finally offering his name, though he didn’t expect her to care.

She nodded, meeting his gaze for a fraction of a second longer than he’d expected. “Nice to meet you, Logan.”

Silence settled between them, not quite uncomfortable, but heavy with unspoken questions. He could sense she wasn’t the type to pry, but there was a curiosity in her eyes like she was trying to figure him out, just as he was with her.

After a beat, she lifted her book slightly, an invitation for him to leave her in peace. But instead of moving, Logan found himself asking, “What’re you reading?”

She blinked, a bit surprised, then held up the cover for him to see—a worn paperback mystery novel. The kind where the hero always catches the killer but loses something in the process. 

He smirked. “Not exactly light reading for a place like this.”

She shrugged, a hint of a smile returning. “I like the quiet here…and usually nobody bothers me.”

“Well, guess I’m breaking that rule,” he muttered, more to himself than to her.

She didn’t seem bothered. She just looked at him with those steady, curious eyes, and for a moment, he forgot about the mission, about the dirty apartment upstairs, about Wade’s grating voice. Here, in this booth, in this shitty bar, with a quiet woman and a book, he felt…still.

The moment shattered when he heard Wade’s voice behind him, loud and smug. “Already making friends, huh? Didn't know you had it in you, Logan.”

Logan tensed, jaw tightening as he glanced over his shoulder. Wade was leaning against the bar with that insufferable smirk, arms crossed, clearly enjoying himself. Logan shot him a look that could have peeled paint.

“Mind your own business, Wade,” he growled, then turned back to her, keeping his voice softer. “Thanks for letting me sit.”

She nodded, her expression as calm and unreadable as before, though there was a flicker of something in her eyes—amusement, maybe, or curiosity. It was hard to tell. She watched him as he stood, and he found himself hesitating, not quite ready to break whatever strange, quiet connection had settled between them.

Wade wasn’t about to let it linger. “Come on, Romeo,” he called, grinning as he gestured for Logan to follow. “We’ve got stuff to do, remember? Or did you forget in all the charming small talk?”

Logan clenched his teeth, resisting the urge to punch the smirk off Wade’s face. Instead, he gave her one last look—a silent apology or a promise to be less of a stranger next time. But her gaze remained steady, unreadable, as he turned to go.

As he walked past Wade, he grabbed him by the shoulder, steering him roughly toward the door. “Let’s go,” he muttered.

Wade snickered, clearly enjoying the opportunity to needle him. “Touchy, touchy. Guess you do have a heart under all that grumpiness.”

Logan ignored him, shoving Wade ahead and out the door, but he couldn’t shake the feeling that he was leaving something unfinished. Her image stayed in his mind—the way she’d watched him with those curious eyes, her quiet presence a balm in a week filled with noise and chaos. He didn’t know what it was about her that tugged at him, but he knew it wasn’t something he could explain, even to himself.

Once they were back on the street, Wade was still talking, filling the night air with his usual nonsensical commentary. Logan barely heard him. His mind was elsewhere, replaying that brief encounter in the dimly lit booth. He’d come down to the bar for a moment of peace, maybe a clue, maybe just a strong drink. He hadn’t expected to find…whatever that was.

But there was no time to dwell on it. They had a job to do, and he’d be damned if he let Wade screw it up.

▬▬ι═══════ﺤ

Logan was screwed. Ever since that brief encounter in the bar, she’d been wedged in his mind like a splinter he couldn’t dig out. He’d catch himself lying on the worn-out couch in the apartment, tuning out Wade’s endless chatter and focusing instead on the faint sounds of her footsteps from down the hall.

She lived across the hall, exactly three doors down. He knew that much, even though he hadn’t seen her again since that night. She didn’t come or go often, and when she did, it was only for short trips—a few minutes out, then back to the quiet solitude of her apartment. 

Logan found himself straining his heightened senses to catch any trace of her: the click of her door, the soft pad of her feet against the hallway carpet, even the faint murmur of her voice when she spoke on the phone. It was insane. He didn’t know the first thing about her, but somehow she’d settled under his skin.

Fuck, he thought, running a hand over his face. I’m a damn stalker.

He tried to shake it off, forcing himself to focus on the mission, but the building felt too cramped, the walls too thin, and her presence was always just out of reach. Wade, of course, noticed Logan’s distraction and was more than happy to exploit it.

“So, when are you gonna introduce me to your girlfriend?” Wade quipped one morning, sprawled across the armchair with his feet propped up on the coffee table. “Or are you just gonna keep sulking around, hoping she magically falls into your lap?”

Logan shot him a glare. “She’s not my girlfriend, Wade.”

“Oh, sure,” Wade drawled, smirking. “That’s why you’ve been lying here for the last three hours, sniffing the air like a bloodhound every time she walks past. I swear, you’re worse than a teenager.”

Logan clenched his fists, jaw tight. He’d deny it if he could, but Wade had a point, and it grated on him. He needed an excuse—a real reason to cross paths with her again, something that wouldn’t make him look like a complete creep.

Wade, apparently sensing an opportunity to meddle, sat up with a grin. “Tell you what, old man. How about you make yourself useful and take our laundry down to the laundromat? You look like you could use a walk, maybe clear your head a bit.” He tossed a balled-up shirt at Logan’s face.

Logan caught it, growling. “Since when do you do laundry?”

“Since never. But I’m feeling generous,” Wade said, smirking as he dropped a bundle of clothes into a bag and shoved it at Logan. “Besides, who knows? Maybe you’ll run into someone interesting while you’re there. Just a thought.”

Logan snatched the bag, too annoyed to argue, and stalked out of the apartment. The morning was cool, the sky overcast, and the streets were quiet as he made his way down to the laundromat which was across the street from the apartment.

He told himself he was only doing it to get Wade off his back—but he couldn’t deny the faint flicker of anticipation at the thought of seeing her again.

The laundromat was nearly empty when he pushed open the door, the dull hum of washing machines filling the air. And there she was, sitting on a cracked plastic chair near the back, a book open on her lap, her brow furrowed in concentration. She didn’t notice him at first, too absorbed in her reading, a strand of hair falling over her face as she turned a page.

Logan froze, his grip tightening around the bag of clothes. Get it together, he told himself, forcing his feet to move as he made his way to an empty machine a few steps away from her. He tossed the clothes in, doing his best to look casual, though he could feel his heart thumping harder than it should.

After a moment, he glanced her way, watching the way her eyes skimmed the words on the page, her lips moving slightly as if she were tasting each sentence. She looked…content. Lost in her own world, soft and quiet in a way that felt like the exact opposite of everything in his life right now.

He cleared his throat, searching for something to say, anything that wouldn’t make him sound like a complete idiot. “Good book?” he managed, his voice gruff, and immediately regretted it. Smooth, Logan. Real smooth.

She looked up, surprised, her gaze locking onto his. For a second, he thought she might brush him off, but then she gave a small, shy smile.

“Yeah, it’s… a mystery novel,” she said, holding up the cover. Her voice was soft, and he caught a faint trace of lavender like she’d been folding fresh laundry just before he came in. “I like to read while I’m waiting. It makes the time go faster.”

Logan nodded, his usual stoic expression softening just a little. “Seems like a good way to pass the time. This place could use the distraction.” He glanced around at the flickering fluorescent lights, the chipped tiles, the machines rattling like they were on their last legs. “Not exactly a scenic spot.”

She laughed, a quiet sound, but it lit up her face in a way that caught him off guard. “No, it’s not. But it’s peaceful, in its own way.”

They fell into a silence as she went back to her book, and Logan found himself watching her out of the corner of his eye as he sorted through the clothes, feeding them into the machine one by one. There was a calmness about her, a quiet strength, and he couldn’t help but wonder what her story was—why someone like her had chosen to live in a place like this, so close to the kind of trouble people usually ran from.

After a few minutes of silence, Logan cleared his throat, searching for something to say. “You… uh, you live alone?”

She looked up, her eyes narrowing just a fraction, a hint of suspicion flickering there. He could almost see her calculating whether or not to answer. “Do you really think I’d tell you that?” she asked, her tone mild but pointed.

Logan’s heart skipped. Shit. He rubbed the back of his neck, feeling like an idiot. “I didn’t—I’m not some creepy guy, I swear,” he said quickly, stumbling over his words in a way he wasn’t used to. “Just… making conversation.”

She arched an eyebrow, a faint smile tugging at her lips. “And you expect me to take your word for it?”

He felt heat rise to his face and shifted uncomfortably, aware of how ridiculous he must sound. This wasn’t him—Logan didn’t do small talk, especially not with someone he barely knew. But something about her had him feeling giddy, bumbling his way through a conversation he wasn’t quite prepared for.

He cleared his throat, forcing himself to hold her gaze. “Look, I’m sorry. You have a point. It’s just… this neighborhood doesn’t exactly feel safe. I guess that’s why I asked.”

She sighed softly, closing her book and running her fingers along its worn spine. “Even more of a reason not to answer your questions, don’t you think?” Her tone was cool and cautious, but there was no malice there—just a quiet wariness that made him wonder what she’d been through to put up those walls.

Logan nodded, feeling a twinge of respect for her caution, even if it stung a little to be on the receiving end of it. She’s smart, he thought. Smart enough not to trust a stranger with more muscles than manners, asking personal questions in a laundromat.

An awkward silence settled between them, filled with the rhythmic hum of the machines. He glanced down at his laundry, watching the clothes tumble through the soapy water, trying to think of something to say that wouldn’t sound stupid or intrusive. Finally, he let out a long breath.

“Look, I know I’m not exactly smooth,” he muttered, barely loud enough for her to hear. “I just… don’t see many people like you around here.”

She tilted her head, curiosity softening her guarded expression. “People like me?”

“Yeah. People who—” He struggled to find the right words. “Who seem like they don’t belong in a place like this.” He gave her a slight, self-conscious shrug. “You look… well, like you’ve got better places to be than a crappy laundromat in a bad part of town. That’s all.”

She studied him for a moment, the corner of her mouth lifting in what almost looked like amusement. “And you think you belong here?”

He let out a dry laugh, surprised by the question. “Probably more than most. It’s not exactly my first time in a place like this.”

“Figures,” she murmured, her gaze sweeping over him, taking in the worn leather jacket, the stubble, the roughness that clung to him like a second skin. “You look… I don’t know. Like you’re used to keeping people at a distance.”

Logan blinked, caught off guard by the accuracy of her observation. He shifted under her gaze, feeling exposed in a way he wasn’t used to. “Yeah, well,” he said, gruffly, “sometimes distance is a good thing. Keeps people safe.”

She looked at him for a long moment, her expression softening just a little. “Maybe. But it also keeps people alone.”

Her words hit him harder than he’d expected, settling into some quiet place inside him he’d thought was long gone. He didn’t know how to respond, so he just nodded, feeling the weight of her gaze on him like a challenge.

After a beat, she gathered her laundry, folding it with careful practiced movements, her hands steady and precise. He watched her, mesmerized by the quiet grace in each gesture, the way she seemed to carry her world with her, self-contained and resilient.

As she turned to leave, she glanced back at him, something unreadable in her eyes. “Take care, Logan,” she said, her voice softer now. It wasn’t a question—it was a goodbye, or maybe a warning.

He swallowed, surprised that she’d remembered his name. “Yeah… you too.”

She lingered for a second, then gave him a small nod and walked out, leaving the faint scent of lavender and the echo of her words hanging in the air.

Logan watched her go, feeling the ache of something unfinished settle in his chest. He’d wanted to ask her more, to find out what kept her here, what kept her so guarded. But he knew better than to push.

As he turned back to the hum of the washing machines, he realized he’d be counting down the days until he saw her again.

▬▬ι═══════ﺤ

“Stryker’s pissed,” Wade muttered, slumping against the kitchen counter in their dingy apartment. The usual smirk was missing from his face, replaced by a look of weary frustration. “Doesn’t understand how, after two weeks, we haven’t found the guy.”

Logan leaned back against the counter, arms crossed, jaw tight. The truth was, he’d practically given up on the mission. They’d followed every lead, shaken down every contact, and come up with nothing. At this point, the search felt pointless. Hell, he could barely keep his head in the game—his mind kept drifting back to her. He hadn’t seen her in days, not since that run-in at the laundromat, and the silence from across the hall gnawed at him in a way he couldn’t explain.

“Tell him this shit takes time. We’ve done everything we can,” he said, the words coming out hollow. He didn’t have the energy to pretend anymore, not even for Wade.

Wade sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I already did. But, y’know, Stryker’s not exactly big on patience. Guy thinks we’re machines or something.” He shot Logan a sidelong glance, noticing the faraway look in his eyes. “You all right, man?”

Logan grunted, brushing him off. “I need a drink,” he muttered, grabbing his worn leather jacket from the back of the sofa and heading for the door. He didn’t look back, didn’t wait for Wade’s response. The apartment felt too cramped, too stale, and he needed air—needed a chance, maybe, to see her.

He made his way down the narrow stairwell, taking two steps at a time, the dim light casting shadows over the worn wallpaper. The bar was quieter than usual, only a handful of regulars hunched over their drinks, lost in their thoughts. Logan scanned the room, his heart pounding harder than he cared to admit. He’d been hoping, half-expecting, to see her. But she kept to herself so much that even catching a glimpse felt like chasing smoke.

Then he saw her, and his breath caught. There she was, standing behind the bar, her sleeves rolled up, pouring a whiskey into a lowball glass with practiced precision. The faint glow of the bar lights softened her face, giving her an almost ethereal look in the dimness. She didn’t notice him at first, focused on her work, and he took a second just to watch her, feeling that strange pull tighten in his chest.

He slid onto a stool at the bar, waiting until she looked up and caught sight of him. Her eyes flickered with recognition, a brief, surprised spark that quickly settled into something more guarded.

“Didn’t know you worked here,” he said, his voice low and gruff.

She gave a small, almost shy smile, setting the glass she’d just poured in front of an older man at the end of the bar. “Just part-time,” she replied. “Pays the bills.”

Logan nodded, glancing at the bottles lined up behind her. “Don’t suppose you’d join me for a drink?”

A faint smile tugged at the corner of her mouth, though there was something distant in her eyes. “I don’t drink,” she said, wiping down the counter with a cloth. “But I can pour you something strong if that’s what you need.”

He shrugged, trying to act casual. “Maybe I just wanted company.”

She paused, her hand stilling for a moment as she looked at him. “Rough day?”

Logan let out a humorless chuckle. “You could say that.” He hesitated, then added, “Work’s… complicated.”

She tilted her head, watching him with that quiet, steady gaze that always seemed to see right through him. “You don’t strike me as the kind of guy who likes talking about his job.”

“Not much to talk about,” he muttered, though he could feel the weight of it pressing on him, heavier than he wanted to admit. He took a deep breath, fingers tapping restlessly on the bar. “Let’s just say I’ve been chasing something that doesn’t want to be found.”

She nodded, her expression hardening just a bit. “Sometimes it’s better to let things go. Not everything needs to be caught.” Her words were gentle, but they struck something deep inside him, making him feel exposed in a way he wasn’t used to.

He ran a hand over his face, weary. “Yeah, maybe. Just… hard to walk away when you’ve got orders breathing down your neck.”

She arched an eyebrow, a hint of amusement breaking through her usual reserve. “So you’re the type who follows orders, huh?”

Logan smirked, shaking his head. “Not exactly. But sometimes you don’t get a choice.” He picked up his glass, taking a slow sip of the whiskey she’d poured, savoring the burn as it went down. “What about you? Seems like you don’t mind keeping to yourself.”

She shrugged, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “I’m used to it. Less complicated that way.”

There was a pause, and he could sense something unspoken there, a hint of a story she wasn’t quite ready to tell. He felt an unexpected urge to ask, to push just a little, but he held back, afraid of scaring her off.

Instead, he said, “This place doesn’t exactly feel like… I don’t know. The kind of spot for someone who likes peace and quiet.”

She laughed softly, the sound warm and unexpected. “Probably not. But I don’t mind it here. It’s… predictable.” She looked down, fiddling with the edge of her towel, a small frown creasing her forehead. “I’ve had enough surprises for one lifetime.”

Logan watched her, feeling a pang of something he couldn’t name—sympathy, maybe, or just the strange, unexplainable need to understand her. “Yeah. I get that,” he murmured, surprising himself with how much he meant it. “I’m not much of a fan of surprises either.”

She glanced up, meeting his gaze, her expression softening. “Funny. Somehow, I think you’ve had your fair share.”

“More than I’d like,” he admitted, his voice barely a whisper. He wanted to tell her more, to somehow convey the weight he carried without unloading it all on her shoulders. But he was used to keeping that part of himself locked away. So instead, he just took another drink, feeling the burn of the whiskey like a familiar ache.

After a moment, she leaned on the bar, closer than she’d been before, and he caught a faint whiff of lavender—a soft, almost comforting scent that didn’t belong in a place like this. “For what it’s worth,” she said quietly, “you don’t seem like the kind of guy who belongs here.”

He looked up, caught off guard by her words. There was something raw in her gaze, something vulnerable she was letting him see, if only for a second. At that moment, he felt the urge to reach out, to say something real, something that might close the gap between them.

But the words stuck in his throat. All he could manage was a rough, “Yeah. Maybe neither of us do.”

She smiled faintly, a ghost of one, then straightened, the moment passing as quickly as it had come. “I should get back to work,” she said, her voice soft but distant again.

Logan nodded, watching as she moved down the bar to help another customer. The warmth she’d shown him vanished as she fell back into the rhythm of her job, her expression becoming neutral, polite, reserved.

He sat there for a while, nursing his drink, watching her from the corner of his eye. There was a part of him that wanted to wait until her shift ended, to walk her home, to find out more about the life she kept hidden behind that quiet, steady demeanor. But he knew better. They were both loners, both wary, both used to walls that kept the world at a distance.

Still, as he finally rose to leave, he couldn’t help but glance back one last time, catching her eye for a fleeting moment. There was something there—something unspoken, a silent understanding like they were both seeing the loneliness in each other.

▬▬ι═══════ﺤ

A door slammed somewhere down the hall, jolting Logan awake. He shot up, his senses immediately on high alert, ears ringing from the sudden noise. In this dump of an apartment building, chaos was as predictable as the peeling paint on the walls, but something about this was different. He felt it low in his gut—a tug of instinct that told him her door was the one that had slammed.

He didn’t even think twice. Rolling out of bed, he barely bothered to throw on a shirt, his sweatpants clinging to his legs as he stepped into the dimly lit hallway. The air was thick and stale, the smell of old carpet mingling with the faint, sour odor of cigarette smoke. Shadows pooled in the corners, and the weak fluorescent light flickered above, casting an eerie, washed-out glow over everything.

Logan froze when he spotted a lanky, rough-looking guy standing outside her door, his posture tense, fists clenched and white as he pounded on the wood.

“C’mon, let me in!” the guy snarled, his voice slurred and aggressive. “We’re not done talking!”

Logan’s jaw tightened, a surge of anger rising in his chest. He watched for a second, sizing the guy up—a wiry frame, greasy hair, clothes rumpled like he hadn’t changed in days. The man looked like trouble, the kind of guy who didn’t know when to take no for an answer. And if he was here banging on her door at this hour, that made him Logan’s problem.

Logan’s voice came out low and cold as he approached. “You wanna keep it down?”

The guy spun around, his eyes narrowing as he took in Logan’s broad shoulders, the scowl etched deep on his face. “Who the hell are you?” he sneered, but there was a flicker of hesitation, a hint of unease that Logan caught right away.

Logan took another step forward, crossing his arms over his bare chest. “I’m the guy who lives down the hall,” he said, his tone deadly calm. “And you’re about two seconds away from regretting that door you’re banging on.”

The guy’s sneer wavered, but he tried to puff himself up, stepping forward like he was going to make something of it. “This doesn’t concern you, man. I’m just trying to talk to my girl.”

“Doesn’t look like she wants to talk,” Logan replied, glancing at the door. His fists clenched instinctively. The thought of this guy forcing his way in, disturbing her, made his blood boil. “So maybe you should take the hint and get lost.”

The guy scoffed, but there was a nervous edge creeping into his voice now. “Look, we’re just… we’re going through some stuff. It’s none of your business.”

Logan took one more step, close enough that he could see the guy’s Adam’s apple bob as he swallowed. “Last warning. Leave. Or I make you leave.”

Before the guy could respond, the door opened a crack, and she appeared, her face pale and tense, eyes darting between Logan and this guy. “Logan, don’t. Please,” she said, her voice softer than usual but carrying a weight that made him pause. “It’s… it’s fine. I can handle it.”

Logan glanced at her, his irritation tempered by a flash of confusion. Handle it? The guy was practically foaming at the mouth, and she was telling him to back off.

The guy shot her a pleading look. “Come on, babe, just give me five minutes. We can talk this out.”

Her shoulders stiffened, and Logan could see the resolve in her eyes as she shook her head. “I already told you, we’re done. There’s nothing left to talk about. Just go.”

The guy didn’t budge, his face twisting with frustration. “You’re being unreasonable. This is all because of that stupid job, isn’t it? You think you’re too good for me now, huh?”

Logan felt his patience snap. He took a step forward, his voice a low growl. “She said go. Don’t make me tell you again.”

The guy’s eyes flicked back to Logan, the last traces of defiance draining out of him. For a second, he seemed to weigh his options, then cursed under his breath and turned, stalking down the hallway. He cast one last resentful glare over his shoulder before disappearing down the stairs.

As soon as he was out of sight, Logan turned back to her. She was leaning against the doorframe, her face tight with frustration. He opened his mouth to ask if she was all right, but she cut him off with a weary sigh.

“You didn’t need to do that,” she muttered, her eyes fixed somewhere near the floor.

Logan frowned. “Seemed like he wasn’t getting the message,” he replied, keeping his voice gentler than usual. “Didn’t look like he was gonna leave you alone.”

She crossed her arms, hugging herself as if trying to put some barrier between them. “I just… I didn’t want to make things worse. He’s already been hanging around too much as it is, and now—” She trailed off, looking away, clearly uncomfortable.

Logan’s brows furrowed. He’d come out here ready to throw the guy down the stairs if it came to that, but now he was starting to see the other side of it. “Is he…?” Logan paused, not sure how to phrase it. “Your boyfriend?”

She shook her head quickly. “No–I mean he was, sort of. Not anymore.” She hesitated, biting her lip. “He’s just… he doesn’t know when to let go.”

Logan felt a flash of anger on her behalf, a protective instinct flaring up inside him. “If he gives you any more trouble, you let me know. I’ll make sure he stays gone.”

Instead of relief, his words seemed to frustrate her. She let out a soft huff, rubbing her temples. “Logan, I don’t need a knight in shining armor. This is… complicated. He’s just going through something. It doesn’t matter—” Her voice trailed off leaving the silence to hang between them.

Logan clenched his jaw, forcing himself to take a step back. He wasn’t used to being told to stand down, especially when he felt someone needed his help. But he could see this only made her more anxious, that his interference was complicating things for her in ways he hadn’t anticipated.

“Fine,” he said, though it took effort to keep his voice steady. “But if he shows up again, I’m not gonna just sit by and watch him bother you.”

She looked at him, her expression softening for a moment. There was a flicker of gratitude in her eyes, tempered by weariness. “Thanks, Logan. I appreciate it. Really, but it won’t make things easier. He’ll just think—I just don’t want any more problems, okay?” 

He nodded, feeling a pang of something he couldn’t quite name. He’d wanted to protect her, to do something useful, but it seemed all he’d managed was to add to her stress. “Got it,” he said quietly.

She gave him a small, tentative smile, then turned back to her apartment. As she shut the door, he caught one last glimpse of her expression—tired, guarded, but grateful, like she was carrying the weight of more than just a bad ex.

Logan stood there for a long moment, staring at her closed door, hands clenched at his sides. He hadn’t realized how deeply he’d started to care until he’d felt that surge of anger seeing someone else give her trouble. But now he could feel her boundaries, a line she’d drawn that he hadn’t meant to cross.

Turning back to his apartment, he couldn’t shake the frustration coiled tight in his chest, or the quiet ache that came with knowing there were parts of her life he couldn’t protect her from.

▬▬ι═══════ﺤ

“You and that girl—have you made any progress?” Wade asked, a smirk playing on his lips as he took a lazy sip of his beer. They were sitting in their usual corner of the bar, ostensibly keeping an eye out for any sign of their elusive target. But Wade’s attention, as usual, had drifted to more entertaining topics.

Logan huffed, eyes scanning the room. “What did I tell you, Wade? I don’t want to talk about that.”

“Sensitive subject, big guy?” Wade’s grin only widened, clearly enjoying himself. “C’mon, I’m just saying—you’ve been pining after her like a lovesick puppy for weeks now. You’re not exactly subtle.”

Logan shot him a glare that could’ve cut steel, but Wade just shrugged, unbothered. “Look, I’ve got a way with the ladies. Maybe I can help you out.”

“Don’t even think about it,” Logan growled, his voice low and dangerous.

Wade wasn’t listening. His eyes lit up as the door opened, and she walked in, pulling on her apron as she headed behind the bar. Logan tried not to stare, but he felt that familiar pull in his chest, his gaze drawn to her almost against his will. She looked tired, a little more reserved than usual, like something heavy was weighing on her mind. He couldn’t help but wonder if her ex had been causing her trouble again. He clenched his fists, resisting the urge to ask, to do something to make it better.

That’s when Wade got up.

Logan’s stomach tightened as Wade strolled across the bar, his usual cocky swagger on full display. He watched, jaw clenched, as Wade leaned on the bar, flashing her one of his trademark grins. She looked up, startled at first, and Logan saw her eyes flick briefly toward him before settling back on Wade. Her expression softened into a polite, practiced smile, the kind she gave every customer. But Wade wasn’t satisfied with politeness.

He couldn’t hear exactly what Wade was saying due to his jealousy overtaking his senses, but he saw her give a small, hesitant laugh, the kind that looked like she was just being polite. That didn’t matter—Wade was relentless, leaning in closer, gesturing animatedly, probably telling some ridiculous story. After a few moments, Logan saw her laugh again, this time a little more genuine, her shoulders relaxing just a fraction.

Logan’s fingers tightened around his glass, the jealousy hitting him like a punch to the gut. He tried to ignore it, tried to tell himself it was nothing—just Wade being Wade. But he couldn’t tear his eyes away from them, his jaw clenched so hard it hurt.

Wade, sensing the effect he was having, shot a glance back at Logan, a smug grin flashing across his face before he turned back to her. Logan’s chest tightened. That bastard. He’d walked over there just to rile him up, and damn it, it was working.

Wade said something else, something that made her laugh again—this time a little louder, though Logan could tell it was still half-hearted, a courtesy laugh to appease the charming stranger who’d decided to bother her during her shift. She wasn’t truly engaged, but the sight of her laughing, even out of politeness, stirred something dark and possessive in Logan’s gut.

He forced himself to look away, taking a long drink to steady himself, but the sound of her laugh lingered, scratching at him. Wade was still leaning on the bar, still talking to her, probably laying it on thick just to make Logan squirm. Logan couldn’t help the flash of irritation that surged through him. It wasn’t like he’d made a claim on her or anything—but seeing Wade so close, making her laugh, it grated on him in a way he hadn’t expected.

After a few agonizing minutes, Wade finally sauntered back over, plopping down across from Logan with a satisfied smirk. Logan’s jaw was still clenched, his gaze flickering over to where she was now wiping down the bar, her expression already back to that familiar, guarded neutrality.

Wade raised an eyebrow, leaning in with a grin. “You see that? Had her laughing in no time. It’s called charm, my friend. You should try it sometime.”

Logan glared at him, his voice low and dangerous. “Cut the crap, Wade.”

“Oh, come on,” Wade chuckled, leaning back with a look of pure amusement. “Don’t be so uptight. If you’re not gonna make a move, someone else will.”

Logan’s fists tightened, and he forced himself to take a slow, steadying breath. “This isn’t a game, Wade.”

Wade shrugged, unbothered. “Never said it was. Just seems like you’re too busy brooding over her from a distance to actually, y’know, do anything.” He leaned in, voice dropping to a mocking whisper. “You afraid she’ll turn you down? Big, tough Logan afraid of a pretty girl?”

Logan’s nostrils flared, a quiet anger simmering in his chest, but he held back. He wasn’t going to give Wade the satisfaction of a reaction. Instead, he let his gaze drift back to her, watching as she moved behind the bar, her face calm but distant, like she was deliberately shutting herself off from everything around her.

The truth was, Wade wasn’t entirely wrong. Logan had been keeping his distance, unsure how to approach her, especially with everything going on in her life. He didn’t want to be another complication, another person who made things harder for her. But watching Wade talk to her, seeing that faint, forced smile on her face—it made him realize just how badly he wanted to be the one making her smile, not out of politeness or obligation, but because she actually wanted him there.

Wade leaned in, still smirking. “So? What’s the plan, big guy? You gonna sit here and sulk, or you gonna actually talk to her?”

Logan’s gaze snapped back to him, irritation flaring. “Unlike you, I don’t go around sticking my nose where it doesn’t belong.”

“Hey, I was just being friendly,” Wade said, raising his hands in mock innocence. “You know, she’s pretty nice once you get her to open up a little. Thought I’d do you a favor, warm her up for you.”

Logan scoffed, but he couldn’t hide the bitterness in his tone. “She’s not some conquest, Wade.”

Wade rolled his eyes. “Relax, old man. I’m not trying to steal her. Just trying to get you to wake up and do something about it before she slips away.” He glanced back toward the bar, where she was now stacking glasses, oblivious to their conversation. “You think she’s gonna wait around forever? Women like that don’t stay single long.”

Logan’s jaw clenched, his heart pounding with a mixture of frustration and jealousy he couldn’t shake. He took another sip of his drink, forcing himself to keep his gaze on anything else instead of glancing her way again. The truth was, Wade’s words struck too close to home. He’d been holding back, convincing himself that he had time, that he didn’t need to rush things. But seeing her with someone else—even Wade—made him realize how thin that excuse really was.

After a moment, Logan set his glass down, his eyes cold and hard. “You don’t know the first thing about her, Wade.”

Wade shrugged, unfazed. “Maybe not. But neither do you, at this rate.” He flashed another grin, leaning back in his seat. “Look, you’re not gonna scare me off with your brooding, so maybe just… I don’t know, think about it. You might find that going over there and actually talking to her works better than glaring at me.”

Logan didn’t respond, but his gaze drifted back to her, watching as she moved with quiet efficiency, her expression carefully blank. He could still hear her forced laugh echoing in his head, the way she’d seemed to tolerate Wade’s attention rather than welcome it.

With a resigned sigh, he pushed himself to his feet. If Wade wasn’t going to back off, maybe it was time to take matters into his own hands.

He didn’t know what he was going to say, but he knew one thing for sure: he couldn’t sit around and let someone else fill the space he’d been too afraid to claim.

Logan slid onto the bar stool in front of her, his presence a solid weight she couldn’t ignore, even though she kept her eyes down, focused on wiping an already-clean spot on the counter. She looked up briefly, her gaze flicking to him before darting away, a faint, polite smile barely gracing her lips.

“Hey,” he said, his voice gruff but softer than usual.

“Hi.” She answered quietly, her eyes settling somewhere over his shoulder, anywhere but on him. Her hands kept busy, her movements almost mechanical as she straightened the bottles on the bar and rearranged the napkins as if his presence alone made her feel she had to be doing something.

Logan felt a pang of something uncomfortably close to regret. He wasn’t used to this—a woman shrinking away from him, putting up walls before he’d even had a chance to say his piece. The memory of her ex banging on her door flashed through his mind, and he shifted uncomfortably, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Look, about the other night,” he began, voice rougher than he intended. “I… I didn’t mean to, y’know, step in like that. I just thought—well, it seemed like you needed help.”

She finally looked at him, her gaze sharp and guarded, like she was measuring each word before letting it reach her. “It’s fine,” she said flatly, her tone clipped. “I can handle my own problems.”

Logan swallowed, feeling the rejection like a slap. He knew she was brushing him off, trying to make him back down, but he couldn’t quite bring himself to let it go. “Didn’t mean to imply you couldn’t,” he muttered, his voice softer. “Just… didn’t want to see you put in a bad spot.”

She let out a small, humorless laugh, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear as she busied herself with the glasses on the bar. “Bad spots are part of the package around here, Logan. You don’t need to make it your business.”

He leaned forward slightly, brow furrowing. “Maybe I just don’t like seeing you get hurt.” The words came out more intense than he’d intended, and he saw her stiffen, her hands pausing mid-reach. She looked up, really looked at him, a flash of something unreadable in her eyes—surprise, maybe, or irritation. It was hard to tell.

She took a breath, visibly collecting herself. “Logan… I appreciate the concern, really. But I’m fine.” Her voice was steady but distant like she was pulling herself back behind a wall he couldn’t get through. “This kind of thing… it’s not new to me.”

That didn’t sit right with him, the idea of her having to handle men like her ex, people who didn’t take no for an answer. He wanted to ask her more, to understand what kind of trouble she’d been through, but he knew that line was dangerous. Respect her space, he reminded himself, even as the urge to push gnawed at him.

But he couldn’t help himself. “You don’t… you don’t have anyone else to look out for you?”

Her gaze flicked to him, sharper now, her eyes narrowing. “What do you mean by that?”

“Just…” He faltered, feeling himself starting to drown in the weight of his awkwardness. “You don’t seem to have anyone around. Family, friends. Someone who could back you up if things got rough.”

She stared at him for a long, tense moment, her expression unreadable. Then she let out a slow, controlled exhale, setting down the glass she’d been wiping with careful deliberation. “Logan, you don’t know me. And frankly, I don’t know you. You and your friend…” She paused, glancing over at Wade, who was lounging at the other end of the bar, eyeing them with an amused grin. “You both keep… hovering. And it’s starting to feel a little strange.”

Logan’s jaw tightened and a wave of frustration and embarrassment crashed over him. “It’s not like that,” he muttered, a bit too defensively. “We’re just… we’re just looking out for you. This place isn’t exactly safe.”

She raised an eyebrow, folding her arms across her chest. “And you think I don’t know that? You think I don’t understand the risks of living here?”

Logan opened his mouth to respond, then closed it, his words failing him. He realized he’d overstepped, pushed too far without thinking. She didn’t need a protector, at least not one who bulldozed into her life without an invitation. And yet, here he was, sitting at her bar, trying to fix things he barely understood.

“I’m just saying…” He trailed off, his voice softer, almost hesitant. “I see you here, night after night, putting up with jerks who don’t know when to quit. You’re not like them. You deserve better.”

Her expression softened, but only slightly, and she glanced away, a distant look in her eyes. “Better,” she murmured, almost to herself. “Right.” She looked back at him, meeting his gaze with something close to resignation. “I don’t need saving, Logan. I’ve been doing just fine without it.”

He swallowed, hating how small those words made him feel. He’d faced down enemies, been through battles that left him scarred in ways she couldn’t imagine, but sitting here under her gaze, he felt exposed, clumsy, like he was fumbling in the dark.

She sighed, glancing down, and for a moment, he saw a hint of vulnerability in her expression—a crack in her armor. “Why are you really here?” she asked, her voice barely a whisper. “Why are you and your friend even bothering with me? I’m just… some bartender.”

Logan hesitated, feeling Wade’s eyes on him from across the room, knowing he was probably getting a kick out of watching him squirm. But this was more than just Wade’s meddling. This was him, unable to walk away, pulled back to her time and time again for reasons he couldn’t explain.

“You’re not ‘just’ anything,” he said finally, his voice low, but steady. “You’re… different. Strong. I don’t know.” He ran a hand through his hair, frustrated with himself. “I know I’m not good with words, but… I see you here, and I just keep thinking you deserve more than this.”

She looked at him, her guarded expression softening, and for a brief moment, he thought he saw something crack beneath the surface—a glimmer of vulnerability, something raw and unguarded. But then, just as quickly, she pulled back, straightening, her walls going up again.

“Oh, so I’m a charity case now?” she murmured, her voice tight and distant, the hint of anger simmering beneath her words. She crossed her arms, shifting her weight as she looked him over, her gaze cold and appraising. “Look, I told you—I don’t need anyone looking out for me, especially not some guy who doesn’t know when he’s made someone uncomfortable.”

The words hit him like a punch to the gut, each one sinking in deep. Logan’s mouth opened, but no words came out. He felt his face go hot, a mix of shame and frustration twisting inside him. He wanted to explain himself, to tell her he hadn’t meant it that way—but the look on her face told him that anything he said now would only make things worse.

“I—” he started, then stopped, swallowing hard. She kept her eyes on him, unblinking, her expression hard as steel. He could see it now—the line he’d crossed, the space he’d invaded without thinking. He’d thought he was helping, protecting her, but all he’d done was make her feel trapped.

She took a breath, exhaling slowly as she glanced away, her jaw clenched. “You don’t get it, do you?” she said softly, her voice barely above a whisper. “Guys like you think you’re doing me a favor, stepping in, trying to… ‘protect’ me. But all you’re doing is making me feel like I can’t handle my own life. Like I’m weak. And I’m not.”

Logan clenched his fists under the bar, forcing himself to stay quiet, to listen. He’d been on the other side of this before—people assuming things about him, trying to fix things they didn’t understand. Now, for the first time, he realized he was doing the same thing to her. He looked down, shame tightening in his chest.

She shook her head, a bitter smile tugging at her lips. “You barely know me, Logan. You have no idea what I’ve been through. And I’m not interested in becoming some project for you to fix or some one-night stand.”

Her words stung, cutting through the last shreds of his defensiveness. He’d been telling himself he was looking out for her, that she needed someone to stand up for her. But now he could see how it must have looked to her—some guy she barely knew, showing up again and again, prying into her life, acting like he knew better.

He cleared his throat, voice rough. “You’re right,” he said quietly, finally meeting her gaze. “I… I didn’t mean to make you feel that way.”

She watched him, her eyes softened just a fraction, though the wariness remained. He could feel the weight of his own mistakes pressing down on him, making him feel clumsy and exposed.

“Look,” she said, her tone gentler but still guarded, “I appreciate whatever it is you’re trying to do. Really. But you don’t get to decide what I need. That’s my choice. And if I want help, I’ll ask for it.”

He nodded slowly, feeling a strange mix of relief and regret. He could sense the walls she’d put up, and he knew now that he was part of the reason they were there.

He stood up, feeling the weight of her words settle over him like a cold ache. “Right. Sorry if we made things weird,” he muttered, his voice gruffer than he intended. “Didn’t mean to… overstep.”

For the first time, she seemed to soften, her gaze losing some of its hardness. She let out a long breath, looking down at the bar as if collecting her thoughts. When she spoke again, her voice was almost kind, but there was an edge to it, a reminder.

“Just… maybe think twice before you go around trying to be someone’s hero,” she said, her lips curving into a faint, sad smile.

Logan felt the weight of her words settle over him, heavier than anything he’d carried in a long time. He nodded, swallowing back the urge to say more. For once, he knew he needed to let her have the last word.

She turned away, her attention shifting to a group of customers at the other end of the bar. She moved with quiet efficiency, her shoulders tense but steady, shutting him out completely.

Logan stood there for a moment, feeling the full sting of her rejection, the ache of realizing he’d overstepped in ways he couldn’t take back. She didn’t look at him again, didn’t acknowledge his presence, and he knew he’d lost whatever fragile connection they’d had.

“Smooth, as always,” Wade drawled, leaning back with an infuriating grin.

Logan ignored him, his jaw clenched tight as he sat down. He’d thought he was protecting her but all he’d done was drive her further away. 

▬▬ι═══════ﺤ

The past few days, Logan had kept a low profile, barely leaving the apartment except to grab food or take out the trash. He didn’t want to risk running into her—not after the way she’d shut him down, her words echoing in his mind like a bruise that wouldn’t fade. She’d made it perfectly clear that she didn’t need his help, and he’d gotten the message. Loud and clear.

But tonight, Wade had barged in with new intel from Stryker. Apparently, their elusive journalist was on the move, spotted hanging around one of the local clubs. Logan hadn’t been in the mood to play dress-up and join the nightlife, but he didn’t have much choice. Stryker was breathing down their necks, and if this was their best shot at tracking the guy down, he couldn’t let it slip by.

So he’d reluctantly thrown on a clean shirt and made the walk a few blocks down to the club, Wade at his side, chattering nonstop as they reached the entrance.

“It’s a bit nicer than the bar we live above,” Wade noted, casting a glance around the neon-lit exterior with approval. A line of people waited outside, all glittering dresses and sharp suits, laughter, and perfume filling the warm night air. Wade smirked, nudging Logan with his elbow. “Maybe if you’re lucky, you can find another pretty girl to make up for your last crash-and-burn.”

Logan rolled his eyes, ignoring Wade’s jab. “We’re here to find the journalist. Stay focused,” he muttered, shoving his hands into his pockets as they made their way inside. The club was dimly lit, pulsing with low red and blue lights that throbbed to the beat of the music. Bodies moved on the dance floor, a tangle of arms and laughter and heat, and Logan felt a familiar irritation simmering under his skin. Clubs weren’t his scene. Too loud, too crowded, too many damn people.

He forced himself to concentrate, sniffing the air, trying to pick up any hint of their target’s scent. But the mix of sweat, cologne, and spilled alcohol made it nearly impossible to pick up anything distinctive. He scanned the crowd, his eyes narrowing as he tried to catch sight of anyone who looked remotely like the guy they were hunting.

But then he saw her.

At first, he thought he was imagining it—a trick of the lights, or just his mind playing cruel games. But no. It was her, standing near the edge of the dance floor, laughing at something some woman was saying. She looked… different. Completely different from the guarded, quiet bartender he’d met. Her hair was loose, falling in soft waves over her shoulders, and her lips were painted a glossy, tempting shade that caught the light every time she smiled. She wore a dress that hugged her curves in all the right places, showing off a side of her he’d never seen before, a side he hadn’t even known existed.

Logan’s mouth went dry, and for a moment, he forgot why he was even there. All he could think about was her—the way she moved, the easy smile on her face, the way her laughter seemed to cut through the noise of the club like it was meant for him alone. He’d been trying to avoid her, trying to keep his distance, but seeing her like this, carefree and vibrant… pulled him in, like a magnet he couldn’t resist.

Wade must have noticed his distraction, because he gave Logan a light smack on the shoulder, pulling him out of his trance. “Logan, buddy, don’t tell me you’re still stuck on her,” Wade said, his tone half-amused, half-annoyed. “I swear, I’ve never seen you this pathetic over anyone. Rejection’s hitting you hard, huh?”

Logan shook his head, forcing himself to tear his gaze away, though his eyes kept drifting back to her. “It’s not like that,” he muttered, more to himself than to Wade. “We’re here for the journalist. Just… keep your eyes open.”

Wade wasn’t buying it. He crossed his arms, smirking. “Oh, I’m keeping my eyes open, all right. You, on the other hand…” He whistled, nodding in her direction. “You’re about one second away from abandoning the mission to go talk to her. I mean, come on. If you’re that obsessed, just go over there already.”

Logan clenched his jaw, resisting the urge to punch Wade then and there. But a part of him hated that Wade was right. He hadn’t been able to get her out of his head since their last conversation, and now, seeing her like this, he was barely holding himself back.

Before he could talk himself out of it, he started making his way across the crowded floor, ignoring Wade’s low chuckle behind him. As he approached, she turned slightly, her gaze sweeping over the crowd until it landed on him. Her smile faltered, surprise flickering in her eyes before she quickly masked it, her face shifting into something more guarded.

“Logan,” she said, her tone cautious, almost as if she were bracing herself. “Didn’t expect to see you here.”

He cleared his throat, suddenly feeling out of place, unsure what to say. “Yeah. Didn’t expect to see you either,” he replied, his voice gruffer than he intended. “You… uh, you look different.” He instantly regretted it, realizing how awkward it sounded.

She raised an eyebrow, crossing her arms. “Different?”

“Good different,” he amended quickly, his cheeks warming. Real smooth, Logan, he thought, mentally kicking himself. 

She glanced away, a faint frown tugging at her lips.“Thanks I guess,” she said, then gestured to her friend, who was watching the exchange with barely concealed interest. “I’m just here with my friend, Monica. She thought it was a good idea for girls’ night and dragged me out.” He could see a flash of uncomfortableness before she masked it.

Logan nodded, his mind racing, trying to think of something to say that wouldn’t make him sound like a fool. But before he could gather his thoughts, her friend nudged her playfully, smirking at Logan.

“So, this is the guy you told me about?” Monica asked, her eyes dancing with mischief.

She shot Monica a warning look, her cheeks flushing. “I… I didn’t tell you that much,” she muttered, casting a quick, embarrassed glance at Logan.

A flicker of hope stirred in his chest. She talked about me? He tried not to let it show, but the thought sent a spark through him, making him stand a little straighter.

Monica gave her a knowing smile, then leaned closer to Logan, lowering her voice. “Just so you know, she’s been playing hard to get for a reason. But maybe she’s finally ready to let someone in.”

Logan looked at her, the guarded woman he’d met behind the bar now looking distinctly uncomfortable, her cheeks flushed a warm pink. She looked away, biting her lip, and he realized she was just as thrown off-balance as he was.

For a moment, they stood in silence, the thrum of the club’s music pulsing around them, the energy of the room fading into the background. All he could see was her—her flushed cheeks, the slight nervousness in her gaze, the softness in her expression that he’d never seen before.

Monica sighed dramatically, looking between them with a mischievous glint in her eye. “Oh, look at that. I need another drink,” she announced, clearly not needing one at all. She winked at her friend. “Plus, I think I see a cute guy over there. You two… have fun.” With one last grin, she slipped away, disappearing into the crowd and leaving them alone.

Logan took a steadying breath, forcing himself to look her in the eyes, to say what he’d been meaning to since their last conversation. “Listen… about the other night,” he began, voice low and careful. “I’m sorry if I overstepped. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”

She hesitated, searching his face. He held her gaze, hoping she could see he meant it. For a moment, he thought he saw the walls she kept around herself soften, just a little. “I know you didn’t mean anything by it,” she said softly, her voice barely carrying over the thrum of the music. “It’s just… I’m not used to people getting involved in my life.”

Logan nodded, understanding more than he could put into words. “I’m not exactly used to… letting people in either.” The confession felt strange on his tongue, vulnerable in a way he hadn’t planned, but it was the truth. He could see that she understood, her expression shifting from guarded to something softer, that made his heart beat a little faster.

They stood there, inches apart, the pulse of the club and the chatter of people fading into the background. Logan wanted to reach out, to touch her hand, to bridge that last bit of distance between them, but he held back, waiting for her lead.

After a moment, she gave him a tentative smile. “Did Wade drag you out here?” she asked, the tension easing just a bit as a hint of humor crept into her voice.

Logan chuckled, shaking his head. “What makes you think that?”

She shrugged, glancing away shyly. “You don’t… you’re like me,” she said, fumbling over her words. “I just didn’t think you’d be the kind of guy who’d want to go to a club.”

He smiled, trying to put her at ease. “I go to bars all the time. Almost the same thing, right?”

She let out a small, nervous laugh. “Yeah, I suppose so. I don’t drink, but Monica always drags me out, says it’s ‘good for me.’” She made air quotes, rolling her eyes slightly.

“I know.” Logan’s face went hot. “I mean, I remember you don’t drink. That’s why… well, I guess that’s why I was surprised to see you here.” He cleared his throat, trying to regain his footing. “But you look… different tonight.”

She raised an eyebrow, her expression growing cautious. “You already said that. Do you make it a habit to repeat yourself?”

Logan fumbled for the right words, suddenly feeling like a teenager on his first date. “I mean…you look beautiful tonight,” he said, his voice rougher than he intended. His gaze flicked over her, taking her in again.

She went very still, her eyes searching his face. For a second, he thought he’d finally broken through to her, that maybe she could see how much he meant it. But then her expression shifted, her lips pressing together, her eyes hardening. She looked down, and he could see her shoulders tense, her arms wrapping around herself as if she were closing off.

“Oh,” she said quietly, a forced, brittle smile tugging at her lips. “So… what? I only look beautiful when I’m dressed up? When I’m… like this?”

Logan’s eyes widened, realization hitting him like a slap. “No—no, that’s not what I meant.”

She shook her head, her voice barely a whisper as she looked away. “I knew it was stupid to come out tonight,” she muttered, more to herself than to him. “Guess I’m just someone you feel sorry for? Want to just take pity on?”

“Hey, no—” Logan reached for her arm instinctively, but she pulled back, her face turning away to hide the tears welling in her eyes. The sight made his chest tighten, guilt flooding him as he realized just how badly he’d misstepped.

“I thought maybe…” Her voice cracked, and she shook her head, brushing a hand quickly across her cheek. “Never mind.” She looked back at him, her eyes glossy, her expression one of hurt and frustration. “Forget it, Logan. I don’t need this.”

“Wait,” he said, desperate now, his voice thick with regret. “It’s not pity. I just… I wanted you to know that I—”

She didn’t let him finish. With a tight, broken smile, she turned on her heel, pushing her way through the crowd and disappearing into the pulsing mass of bodies on the dance floor. He stood there, frozen, watching her slip away, her silhouette vanishing into the blur of lights and movement.

Logan felt an ache settle deep in his chest, the weight of her words sinking in. He’d tried so hard to find the right thing to say, to make her see how he felt—but all he’d done was confirm her worst fears, making her feel like he only saw her worth when she was dressed up, made up, transformed into someone she thought he’d want.

He stood there for a moment, lost in the noise and the lights, feeling the regret gnawing at him like a wound that wouldn’t heal.

Behind him, Wade sidled up, taking in Logan’s expression with a low whistle. “Well, that looked like it went well.”

Logan glared at him, too frustrated to respond. Wade shook his head, crossing his arms with a smirk. “Man, you’re really a disaster with women, you know that?”

Logan clenched his fists, ignoring Wade’s taunts as he scanned the crowd, hoping for another glimpse of her, even though he knew she wouldn’t want to see him right now. He’d messed up, probably worse than he’d ever messed up anything before. But he couldn’t just leave it like this. Not when she was the one person he couldn’t get out of his mind.

Without a word to Wade, he pushed through the crowd, determination hardening in his chest. He didn’t know how he was going to fix this, but he knew one thing—he wasn’t going to let her slip away again. Not like this.

▬▬ι═══════ﺤ

Logan spotted her near the dimly lit hallway by the bathrooms, sitting on the floor with her legs curled up to her chest, her face buried in her arms. The sight stopped him. She looked so small, so vulnerable, and the thought that he’d been the one to put that hurt in her eyes twisted something painful inside him. He knew he should leave her alone—she’d already told him to. But he couldn’t. Not when he felt the ache of her words as if they’d been carved into him.

He took a cautious step closer, clearing his throat. “Hey… I’m sorry,” he murmured, voice barely audible over the muffled thump of music from the club. “I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

She looked up, her eyes red and swollen from crying, and the guilt hit him all over again. Her gaze was sharp, guarded, but there was a flicker of something softer beneath it—a weariness like she was tired of feeling this way.

“Just go away, Logan,” she said, her voice wavering as she hugged her knees tighter. “Haven’t you done enough?”

He wanted to reach out, to touch her shoulder, anything to make this right, but he held back, forcing himself to respect her space. “Please,” he said, his voice rough. “Just… hear me out. I didn’t mean it like that.”

She let out a bitter laugh, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand. “It’s not your fault,” she said, cutting him off. Her voice was shaky and raw, but there was a surprising steadiness underneath like she was trying to take control of her pain. “I… I overthink things. I read too much into what people say.”

Logan shook his head, his brow furrowing. “But I should’ve been more careful with my words. I—”

“It’s not about you, Logan,” she interrupted, her gaze dropping to the floor. She took a shaky breath as if she were forcing herself to let him see a piece of herself she usually kept hidden. “All my life, I’ve only ever felt… I don’t know, noticed… when I was all dressed up. People would tell me I was beautiful, but only when I was like this,” she gestured to her dress, her makeup, the polished version of herself that she’d put on tonight. “And somewhere along the line, I guess I just started to believe that’s all there was to me. That if I wasn’t done up, I didn’t… matter.”

Logan’s chest tightened as he listened, his discomfort fading in the face of her honesty. He understood, more than she realized. He knew what it felt like to wear a mask, to be seen in a way that didn’t match who you were.

“Look, I get it,” he said softly, his voice thick. “I know what it’s like to feel like… like you’re on the outside. Like people only see a part of you and ignore the rest.”

She let out a short, almost bitter laugh, her gaze flicking over him, taking in the rugged, handsome man who had sat next to her. “You? An outsider?” she said, the skepticism clear in her voice. “Come on, Logan. Look at you. How could someone like you know what it feels like to not… fit?”

He swallowed, feeling the old scars hidden beneath the surface ache in response to her words. “You’d be surprised,” he murmured, his gaze distant for a moment as he stared at the wall across from them. “People see what they want to see. This…” He gestured vaguely to himself, his broad shoulders, his gruff exterior. “It’s just armor. Doesn’t mean I fit in. Doesn’t mean I feel at home anywhere.”

She went quiet, studying him with a new kind of curiosity, like she was seeing a side of him she hadn’t expected. Her expression softened, and for a moment, the two of them sat in silence, the thumping bass of the club seeming to fade into the background, leaving them in their own little world.

“I didn’t know…” she whispered finally, her voice barely audible.

Logan shrugged, his gaze dropping to his hands. “I’m not saying it’s the same. Just… I get it. You feel like you have to be something else, just to be seen. But you don’t. You’re worth a hell of a lot more than some fancy dress and makeup.”

She blinked, looking down, her fingers twisting nervously in her lap. “I… I don’t know how to believe that,” she admitted, her voice so quiet he almost didn’t hear it.

He felt a strange surge of protectiveness, an urge to make her see herself the way he did. “You don’t have to believe it all at once,” he said softly. “Just… start small. You’re here, right? That’s a start.”

She looked up at him, a faint glimmer of hope mixed with hesitation in her eyes. “You really think so?”

Logan nodded, his gaze steady and unwavering. “Yeah. I do.” He hesitated, then added, “And for what it’s worth, I didn’t mean that you’re only beautiful like this. I meant… I just meant that you looked happy. You looked… free. That’s what I saw.”

A soft, surprised smile tugged at her lips, and he felt a flicker of relief, like maybe, just maybe, he hadn’t ruined everything.

“I guess… I guess I did feel a little free tonight,” she admitted, her voice tentative, like she was still testing the idea out.

They sat there in silence for a moment, just looking at each other, the air between them charged with something unspoken. Logan felt the weight of her gaze, his eyes shifting to look down at her glossy lips. He didn’t understand why it stirred something deep inside him. 

Finally, she looked away, clearing her throat. “Thanks,” she murmured, glancing up at him with a tentative smile. “For… understanding. And for not letting me just sit here feeling sorry for myself.”

“Anytime,” Logan replied, his voice a soft, steady rumble, grounding her.

They stayed like that, close enough for him to feel the warmth of her shoulder, neither of them moving to fill the space between them. It was rare for him to feel like this—like he could just be here, be himself, and have that be enough. She seemed to relax, letting herself breathe in his presence, a hint of comfort settling into her expression.

But then her friend’s voice sliced through the moment, loud and slightly tipsy, echoing down the hallway. “There you are!” Monica stumbled to a halt, her eyes narrowing the second she noticed the red around her friend’s eyes, the tear tracks still faintly visible on her cheeks. Monica’s gaze shot to Logan, her eyes flashing with instant, protective suspicion. “What the hell? Did this guy—”

She quickly got to her feet, hands up in reassurance, cheeks flushing. “No, no, it’s fine,” she said, glancing back at Logan with an apologetic look. “Logan didn’t do anything.”

Monica crossed her arms, one eyebrow raised skeptically. “You swear? Because I’m pretty sure I could kick his ass, even if he’s big.”

Logan almost laughed, but he held back, just giving a slight shake of his head. “I’m harmless,” he muttered, though the hint of a smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth.

Monica narrowed her eyes, looking between them with obvious doubt. “Fine. I’ll let it go… for now.” She slipped her arm around her friend’s shoulders, lowering her voice. “But hey, I found someone way more fun than this brooding guy. He’s tall, dark, and cute as hell,” Monica said, shooting Logan a sideways look. “Let’s go, yeah?”

She hesitated, her gaze flickering back to Logan, lingering there for a moment. He could see the indecision in her eyes, the hint of a question, like she wasn’t entirely ready to walk away. Part of him wanted to reach out, to tell her to stay, to keep talking, but he bit the words back. He knew she didn’t owe him anything, and he wasn’t about to guilt her into staying.

She gave him a small, reluctant smile, a little sad around the edges. “I… I’ll see you around, Logan,” she said softly like she wasn’t entirely sure.

“Yeah,” he replied, doing his best to keep his voice steady. “Take care.”

With one last glance, she let Monica tug her back toward the crowded, neon-lit main room, disappearing into the sea of people. Logan stayed where he was, the ache in his chest unfamiliar and raw. He hadn’t wanted to let her go, but he’d seen the uncertainty in her eyes, the pull between her friend and whatever connection they’d shared just moments before. And he couldn’t blame her for choosing the friend who’d stood by her through who-knew-what, instead of the stranger who’d stumbled into her life.

He let out a long breath, running a hand through his hair. He’d almost forgotten why he was even here, but the reality of it settled back over him like a cold splash of water. The mission. The damn journalist.

Reluctantly, he pushed himself off the wall, heading back into the main area to find Wade, hoping he’d at least managed to keep his eye on their target. But as he scanned the crowd, a familiar laugh caught his attention, coming from the back corner of the club.

He sighed, already knowing what he’d find.

Sure enough, Wade was slouched in a booth with some girl draped over him, her fingers tangled in his hair, her lipstick smudged against his cheek. They were laughing, Wade’s arm wrapped possessively around her waist, clearly oblivious to everything else.

Logan clenched his fists, feeling a fresh wave of irritation rise. He pushed through the crowd and stopped in front of the booth, crossing his arms. “We’re supposed to be working, remember?”

Wade looked up, still grinning, completely unbothered. “Oh, hey, Logan!” he slurred, throwing an arm out as if he were inviting Logan to join in on the fun. “Lighten up, man. Haven’t seen you all night. What, were you off getting cozy with your lady friend?”

Logan’s jaw tightened. “We have a job to do, Wade. You know, finding the journalist? Stryker’s going to be thrilled if we come back empty-handed because you were too busy making out in the corner.”

Wade just laughed, leaning back with a lazy grin. “Relax, Logan. We’ve been chasing this guy for weeks, and he hasn’t shown up once. If he’s even here, he’s not coming out till way later. Might as well have a little fun while we wait.”

Logan shot a glare at Wade’s “date,” who giggled and nuzzled closer, clearly not bothered by the tension. He felt his patience snap, his frustration boiling over. All night, he’d been on edge, caught between his need to finish the job and the emotions he couldn’t quite bury when it came to her. And now here was Wade, throwing it all away for a quick thrill.

“Fine,” Logan bit out, his voice low. “You go ahead and have your fun, Wade. I’m finishing this myself.”

Wade chuckled, unfazed. “Oh, come on, don’t be like that, man. It’s just one night. Besides…” He shot Logan a knowing look. “I saw the way you looked at her. Maybe you should be thanking me. Gave you a chance to make a move.”

Logan didn’t respond, but Wade’s words hit uncomfortably close to the truth. He had been distracted. He’d let his focus slip, and now he was paying for it.

Without another word, Logan turned on his heel and stalked away, pushing through the crowd toward the exit. The night air hit him like a slap, cool and bracing, but it didn’t do much to ease the frustration roiling inside him. He’d let Wade derail the mission, let his own emotions cloud his judgment, and now the whole thing felt like a waste.

As he started down the street, his mind drifted back to her—the way she’d looked at him, the faint trace of hurt in her eyes before she’d walked away. He clenched his fists, a new determination hardening in his chest. He might have blown this mission tonight, but he wasn’t done. Not with the mission, and not with her.

▬▬ι═══════ﺤ

Logan had barely made it back to the apartment before exhaustion took hold, weighing down his limbs. He kicked off his boots and peeled off his shirt, letting it drop carelessly to the floor before sinking onto the bed. His mind was still tangled with thoughts of her—her quiet smile, the guarded look in her eyes, the way she’d walked away with her friend’s encouragement. He’d messed things up, and the night felt like one long series of missed chances.

He’d only been asleep for a couple of hours when a noise jolted him awake. At first, he thought it was part of some half-formed nightmare or maybe just the usual racket from one of the neighbors. But then he caught something familiar—her voice, muffled through the thin walls. He strained his hearing, every instinct snapping to attention. A glance at the grimy clock on his nightstand told him it was 1:29 a.m.

She must have just gotten home. But she wasn’t alone.

Logan sat up, his heartbeat quickening. He knew he should let it go, should just lie back down and ignore whatever was happening on the other side of the wall. But before he could think better of it, he slipped out of bed, padding across the creaky floorboards to the front door. He pressed his ear to the wall, barely breathing, his heightened senses picking up every word.

The guy’s voice was low and easy, with that too-smooth tone Logan had learned to distrust. He sounded friendly enough, but there was an edge of expectation, a subtle suggestion that grated against Logan’s nerves.

“So… tonight was fun,” the guy was saying, a hint of laughter in his voice. “Maybe we could do it again? Tomorrow, maybe?”

Logan could picture her expression without even seeing it—those walls going up, that faint, polite smile she used when she didn’t want to let someone in. He heard her let out a soft sigh.

“I’m… not really sure about tomorrow,” she replied, her voice guarded, cautious. “I have a lot going on.”

The guy chuckled, but there was a forced quality to it. “Come on, just a drink or something. You don’t have to play so hard to get, you know?”

Logan felt his jaw clench, his hands curling into fists at his sides. The guy was pushing, trying to wear down her resistance, and it grated on him like sandpaper. He didn’t like the way it sounded, didn’t like the edge in the guy’s voice like he thought he could charm his way past her boundaries. Logan’s instinct to protect her flared, raw, and almost territorial, even though he knew he had no right to feel that way.

There was a pause, and he could hear her shifting, probably stepping back, putting a little distance between them. “It’s not that,” she said, a little too politely. “I just… need some space, that’s all. Tonight was nice, but—”

“Space, huh?” the guy interrupted, his tone slipping from charming to something a little sharper. “You know, you don’t make it easy, do you?”

Logan could feel his pulse pounding in his ears, the urge to step outside and tell this guy to back off building with each word. But he held himself in check, forcing himself to stay silent, to let her handle it. She didn’t need him barging in like some kind of white knight, as much as he wanted to.

Another pause, and he heard her take a breath, steady but firm. “I appreciate tonight. Really. But I’m not looking for… anything serious.”

The guy let out a huff, barely masking his disappointment. “All right,” he said, though his tone made it clear he wasn’t happy about it. “Guess I’ll see you around, then.”

Logan listened, tense, as he heard the guy’s footsteps retreating down the hallway. Only when he heard the click of her door closing did he let out the breath he’d been holding. His fists unclenched, but the tension in his chest didn’t ease. He knew she’d handled it. She didn’t need him intervening. But the way the guy had pushed, the subtle pressure in his tone… made Logan’s blood simmer.

Before he could talk himself out of it, he slipped into the hallway, moving quietly until he reached her door. He hesitated, one hand raised, hovering just above the wood. Part of him knew he should just let it be, go back to his apartment, and leave her alone. But he couldn’t shake the worry gnawing at him, the urge to make sure she was really all right.

He knocked, softly at first, then a little louder when he didn’t hear anything.

A moment later, the door cracked open, and she peered out, eyes widening when she saw him. She looked tired, her makeup smudged, a faint crease of worry lingering between her brows. “Logan?” she said, sounding surprised, her voice soft and uncertain. “What are you…?”

He swallowed, his voice coming out rougher than he’d meant. “I just… wanted to make sure you’re okay. I heard him… y’know. Talking.”

She sighed, glancing back into her apartment for a moment before opening the door a little wider. “You were listening?” she asked, a faint hint of annoyance in her tone.

Logan shifted, rubbing the back of his neck. “Didn’t mean to eavesdrop. Just… wanted to make sure he didn’t give you any trouble.”

She looked at him, her expression softening, the guardedness melting away just a little. “It’s fine, Logan. Really. He was… nice, mostly. Just… maybe he wanted something I’m not ready to give.”

Logan nodded, relief mingling with an odd sense of satisfaction at her words. “Good. That he’s gone, I mean.” He hesitated, then added, quieter, “I just didn’t like the way he sounded. Like he thought he could… push you around.”

Her lips pressed into a faint smile, something close to gratitude in her eyes. “Thanks. But I can handle guys like that.” She let out a tired laugh. “I’ve been handling guys like that for a while now.”

He nodded, leaning against the doorframe, his gaze searching hers. “Yeah. I know you can.” He paused, then added, almost reluctantly, “But you don’t have to do it alone, y’know. If anyone bothers you… I’m right across the hall.”

She looked up at him, her eyes lingering on his face, and for a moment, he thought he saw a flicker of vulnerability there—a quiet gratitude she wasn’t quite ready to express. But then she shook her head, a faint smile tugging at her lips. “Thanks, Logan,” she murmured. “But… I don’t want you to feel like you have to keep an eye on me. I don’t want to be someone’s… responsibility.”

He shook his head. “It’s not that. I just… I care. That’s all.”

Her eyes softened, and she looked away, swallowing hard. “I don’t see why you care. Why you would…given…we barely know each other.” She paused, carefully considering her words. “But it’s been a long time since someone cared,” she admitted quietly, almost as if she hadn’t meant to say it out loud.

Logan could feel the weight of her words hanging in the air. He reached out, his hand hovering just above her shoulder, but he stopped himself, dropping his hand before it made contact.

“Well, you don’t have to worry about that anymore,” he said, his voice a soft murmur. “I’m here.”

She gave him a small, hesitant smile, a hint of hope breaking through the walls she kept so carefully in place. “Thank you, Logan.”

He nodded, stepping back to give her space, though he didn’t want to leave. “Get some rest,” he said, his voice gruff. “I’ll… see you tomorrow.”

She nodded, watching him as he turned to go, lingering in the doorway as if part of her didn’t want to close the door just yet. As he walked back to his apartment, he felt something shift in him—a quiet, steady resolve to be there, to be someone she could trust.

▬▬ι═══════ﺤ

Logan was pacing back and forth in the small, dingy apartment, so agitated that even Wade seemed annoyed for once. Wade lounged on the couch, a magazine in one hand and a look of pure exasperation on his face as he watched Logan wearing a path into the floor.

“Why are you like this?” Wade finally snapped, tossing the magazine aside. “Did your parents not love you, or something? Because this level of brooding is painful to watch, even for me.”

Logan shot him a glare, but he didn’t have a comeback this time. His usual sarcasm was buried under a mess of thoughts he couldn’t quite untangle. He ran a hand through his hair, his voice coming out quieter, almost hesitant. “It’s just… she actually seemed like she wanted to talk to me last night. Like, really talk.”

Wade rolled his eyes, folding his arms behind his head. “God, I don’t see how I keep missing your late-night heart-to-hearts in the hallway,” he said with exaggerated interest. “Sounds like you’re one step away from serenading her or something.”

Logan’s eyes kept drifting to the door, that nagging worry gnawing at him. He hadn’t heard her leave her apartment all morning, and he couldn’t shake the uneasy feeling that something was wrong.

Finally, Wade sat up, giving him a pointed look. “Look, man, there’s only one way to stop acting like a lovesick teenager. Just go knock on her door. You’re driving me nuts over here.”

Logan hesitated, shifting his weight. Part of him hated the idea of just showing up unannounced, but he couldn’t shake the feeling of urgency. He needed to see her, to know she was okay. Before he could talk himself out of it, he gave Wade a grudging nod and headed for the door.

"Finally," Wade muttered behind him, smirking. "Go get her, tiger."

Logan ignored him, stepping into the dim hallway. He crossed the few steps to her apartment, his hand hovering just above the door. He took a breath, steadying himself, then knocked—softly at first, then louder when there was no response.

Silence.

He waited, his heartbeat picking up as seconds stretched into what felt like an eternity. He knocked again, pressing his ear to the door, straining to hear any movement inside. But there was nothing. No footsteps, no soft shuffle of her usual routine. An uneasy feeling crept over him. He hadn’t heard her leave that morning. Had he missed something? Was she—

Just then, he heard the familiar sound of footsteps echoing up the stairwell, and he turned, relief flooding him. But the relief was short-lived, quickly turning into confusion as he took in the scene.

She was coming up the stairs, but she wasn’t alone. Walking beside her was the guy from last night—the one her friend had set her up with. The guy was laughing, leaning a little too close to her, and Logan felt his jaw tighten instinctively. She had her arms crossed, her posture guarded but polite, and though she didn’t look particularly comfortable, she wasn’t pushing him away either.

Logan stood frozen, his hand still raised as if to knock, caught between relief and a prickling sense of jealousy. She looked up and noticed him, her eyes widening slightly in surprise.

“Logan,” she said, stopping on the landing. Her voice was a mix of surprise and something else he couldn’t quite place—maybe guilt, or hesitation.

The guy at her side glanced between them, raising an eyebrow. “Oh… hey,” he said, clearly picking up on the tension in the air. He smiled awkwardly, extending a hand. “I’m Jared. I, uh… guess you’re a neighbor?”

Logan didn’t take his hand, barely sparing him a glance. “Yeah,” he said, his voice low and rough. His eyes were fixed on her, searching her face, trying to read her expression.

She shifted uncomfortably, her arms still crossed tightly over her chest. “We… just ran into each other downstairs,” she explained, her gaze flicking between Logan and Jared. “He was just walking me up.”

Jared chuckled, clearly oblivious to the undercurrent in the air. “Yeah, thought I’d make sure she got back safe, y’know? This neighborhood’s not exactly the friendliest.”

Logan felt a surge of irritation, but he forced himself to stay calm, to keep his expression neutral. “She can handle herself,” he replied, the words coming out sharper than he intended. He saw her flinch and instantly regretted it, but he couldn’t help the tension coiling in his chest.

Jared blinked, clearly sensing he wasn’t welcome, and took a step back, raising his hands in a gesture of surrender. “All right, man. No need to get territorial,” he said with a forced laugh. “I’ll get out of your hair.” He turned to her, flashing a hopeful smile. “So… maybe we could catch up tomorrow? Grab a coffee or something?”

She hesitated, glancing briefly at Logan before nodding, though her smile looked a little forced. “Yeah, maybe. I’ll… let you know.”

Jared grinned, clearly taking that as a yes, and gave a little wave before heading back down the stairs. Logan watched him go, barely breathing until the sound of his footsteps faded completely. Only then did he turn to her, his expression softening as he searched her face.

“Did… you need something?” she asked, her gaze lingering on him, one eyebrow raised in quiet suspicion.

Logan cleared his throat, feeling his cheeks heat up slightly. This was ridiculous. He wasn’t sure what had possessed him to knock on her door, but now that he was here, his brain seemed to be working at half-speed.

“Uh, yeah,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck and forcing himself to meet her eyes. “I was wondering if you had… y’know… some eggs I could borrow.”

Her expression didn’t shift, but he saw the faintest flicker of amusement in her eyes. “Eggs?” she repeated like she was testing the word.

Logan felt himself growing more flustered. “Yeah. Eggs. They’re… good for protein,” he added lamely, the words sounding as awkward out loud as they felt in his head.

She watched him for a moment, clearly trying to decide if she believed him or not. A small, skeptical smile played at the corner of her lips like she could see right through his excuse but was willing to humor him.

“Sure. I think I’ve got some,” she said, stepping aside to let him in. “Come in while I go grab them from the kitchen.”

Logan hesitated, then nodded, slipping past her into the apartment. The warmth of her space hit him immediately, and he found himself surprised by how… homey it was. The faint scent of vanilla and something floral hung in the air, and soft lighting cast a cozy glow over everything. It was nothing like the dingy, bare-bones apartment he shared with Wade. Where his walls were chipped and peeling, hers were lined with neatly hung prints and framed photographs, small touches that gave the place a warmth he hadn’t expected.

As she disappeared into the kitchen, he let his gaze wander, taking in the shelves along one wall, filled with books. Dozens of them, all stacked neatly, some with worn covers and dog-eared pages, like they’d been read and re-read over the years. He noticed a mix of genres—mystery novels, classic literature, a few non-fiction titles, and even some poetry. It was the kind of collection that spoke to someone who spent a lot of time alone, lost in worlds beyond these walls.

He moved closer to one of the shelves, fingers ghosting over the spines without touching. A few books were stacked horizontally, others arranged by height. There was a kind of organized chaos to it, a personal touch that made him feel like he was seeing a side of her he hadn’t glimpsed before. He felt a strange pang of… something. Envy, maybe, or admiration. This was her space, her sanctuary, carefully built to be hers. And here he was, intruding on it.

“Didn’t peg you for a reader,” her voice came from behind him, light and teasing.

Logan turned, a bit flustered, caught off guard by her sudden reappearance. She held a carton of eggs in one hand, watching him with that same amused expression, like she knew he was lying about the whole “egg” thing but was willing to let it slide.

“I, uh…” He scratched the back of his head, feeling like he’d been caught red-handed. “Not really. Don’t have time for it.”

She shrugged, giving him a small smile as she set the egg carton on the counter. “Reading isn’t for everyone.”

He nodded, still taking in her apartment, feeling a strange comfort settle over him in the warmth of her space. “It’s… nice in here,” he admitted, his voice gruffer than he intended. “Didn’t expect it to feel so… I don’t know.”

She raised an eyebrow. “So what?”

“Homey, I guess,” he said, almost embarrassed to admit it. “My place… it’s nothing like this.”

A faint, sympathetic smile softened her face. “Well, your roommate doesn’t exactly scream ‘homey,’” she teased, glancing around as if imagining Wade sprawled across her carefully arranged furniture, disrupting the calm. “Not really surprised you don’t put much into decorating.”

Logan let out a low chuckle. “Yeah. Wade’s more… chaos than cozy.”

She laughed softly, a genuine, relaxed sound that made his chest feel unexpectedly warm. “I can’t even picture him reading a book.”

“Pretty sure he’d complain about the ‘small font’ and give up in five minutes,” Logan muttered, and she laughed again, a light, melodic sound that filled the space in a way that felt… right.

For a moment, they stood there in comfortable silence, the unspoken tension between them somehow lessened by the simple act of sharing a space. He glanced at the egg carton, feeling a little foolish now that he had no real reason to stay.

“Thanks for the eggs,” he mumbled, reaching for the carton but not quite moving to leave. “Didn’t need them, if I’m honest.”

She tilted her head, a knowing look in her eyes. “Yeah, I figured,” she said, her voice gentle but laced with amusement. “So… why did you come by?”

Logan hesitated, feeling a sudden vulnerability he wasn’t used to. “I guess… I just wanted to make sure you were okay. After last night, and then seeing you with that guy this morning…” He trailed off, running a hand over his face. “It just didn’t sit right with me.”

Her expression softened, and she looked down, fingers tracing absent patterns on the counter. “Jared,” she said as if the name left a sour taste. “Monica’s idea. She thinks I need to ‘put myself out there.’” She rolled her eyes, a faint bitterness creeping into her tone. “It’s not really my thing, but… I figured I’d try.”

Logan studied her, catching the flicker of doubt in her eyes. “You didn’t seem too thrilled with him,” he observed, trying to keep his tone casual.

She shrugged, her smile a little sad. “He’s… nice. I just don’t know if ‘nice’ is enough.” She glanced up, meeting his gaze, her eyes holding his for a moment longer than necessary. “I guess I’ve got my own walls. Maybe it’s easier to push people away than to… let them in.”

Logan felt his chest tighten, recognizing himself in her words. “Yeah. I know how that goes,” he murmured, his voice low. “People tend to… make assumptions, think they know you just because of how you look or act. Sometimes it’s easier to let them believe what they want.”

She nodded, her gaze dropping again, her fingers still tracing absent shapes on the counter. “And what do people assume about you?” she asked, almost too softly.

He swallowed, feeling a familiar pang of vulnerability that he usually kept buried. “They see… this,” he said, gesturing to himself, to the rough exterior, the scars that lined his knuckles, the tension that seemed to live in his shoulders. “And they think I’m nothing but that. Just… rough edges. An animal.”

She looked up, her gaze soft and understanding, and he felt that ache again, the need to be seen, really seen. “You’re not just that,” she said quietly, her words barely more than a whisper. “I can see that you're more than that…now.”

A warmth lingered between them, subtle but undeniable. Logan could feel it settling over him, grounding him in a way he hadn’t expected. Standing here, in her space, surrounded by traces of her life, he felt an unfamiliar sense of belonging—like, for once, he wasn’t just some outsider passing through.

She let out a small sigh, her gaze dropping to the floor. “Anyway,” she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper, almost shy. “Thanks for checking on me.”

He nodded, swallowing back the impulse to reach out, to close the last inch of space between them. “Yeah. Anytime,” he said, his voice softer than he intended.

She led him to the door, holding it open as he stepped into the dim hallway. Logan hesitated, lingering just outside her apartment, feeling a strange reluctance to leave. The words were out of his mouth before he could second-guess himself.

“Would you… maybe want to come over?” He forced a small, awkward smile. “I’m sure Wade would love the company.”

She looked up at him, her expression caught between surprise and something softer. A small smile touched her lips, but she shook her head, a hint of apology in her eyes. “I would, but… being around people sort of… drains me.”

He watched her, sensing there was more she wasn’t saying, something fragile behind the simple explanation.

She hesitated, her fingers gripping the edge of the door, her gaze flickering up to meet his. “Not you, though,” she added softly, almost as if the words had slipped out without her permission. Her cheeks flushed, and she looked away quickly. “Just… people in general. Introvert thing, I guess.”

Logan felt a flicker of something warm and unfamiliar in his chest. She hadn’t meant to single him out, but the admission hung in the air between them, as delicate and unsteady as a breath. “Yeah,” he said, his voice rougher than he intended. “No problem.”

She looked back up at him, a softness in her eyes that made him feel like maybe, just maybe, she was beginning to let him in. It wasn’t much—not yet—but it was enough to make his pulse quicken, to make him feel like he’d taken a step closer to something he’d been chasing without even knowing it.

“See you, Logan,” she whispered, her voice lingering in the quiet air, her eyes holding his for just a beat longer than necessary.

“See you,” he replied, his voice equally soft, reluctant. He took a step back, the warmth of her presence already beginning to fade, and gave her a small nod before turning away.

As he made his way down the hallway, he couldn’t shake the feeling that something had shifted between them—a door, barely open, but open nonetheless.

[bobafetts-princess]

Stranger and the Bear Pt1

Summary: A handsome stranger has been warming a stool at the bar you work at. What happens when ghosts from the past make an appearance?

Pairings: Logan Howlett x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 2.5k

Warnings: drinking, a touch of Logan smoking the cigar, abusive relationship mentioned (no abuse shown), I think that’s all for this chapter

A/N: if you saw this on ao3, I’m the same person! I’m deep in a Logan crisis and have been thinking about moving my Logan fics over to tumblr so his resurgence has given me the boost I need!

Part 2 can be found here

“Hey stranger!” You shout to your newest bar customer, tossing a coaster in front of him before turning around and grabbing his usual.

“Hey Bear,” he responds, his deep voice silky and rough at the same time.

“I can’t believe you still call me that,” You laugh, “it’s been like, three months.”

“You mentioned it first, so I ran with it.” He smiles and winks playfully at you, the most lighthearted you’ve ever seen him. The tall and handsome stranger had first come into the bar you work at a few months ago, ordering a whiskey neat and a beer.

You’d given him your name in the hopes that he would give you his in return, but no luck. “My childhood classmates called me care bear though, they claimed I was as sweet and cuddly as a care bear,” you tell him, smiling at the old memory.

“Care bear, huh?” The stranger had said, deep voice rumbling through his chest. “How about just Bear?”

“Ooh! I like that,” you say before asking him what he would like to drink.

The two of you had fell into an easy camaraderie, always some light flirting, at least from your end. You’d never asked his name and he’d never offered. Your stranger was a good looking man, neatly trimmed facial hair and sideburns, usually in a leather jacket and form-fitting jeans. He was the definition of ‘hate to see them leave, love to watch them walk away’ and you looked forward to the one or two days a week he would come in. He was always respectful, drank the same thing, and left a decent tip.

The evening passed in a blur, patrons coming and going but your stranger stayed where he was. You refilled his drinks at the exact moment he was finishing the last, that was your routine. You’d refill his drinks and he would hang out for a few hours. He watched you work, sometimes from behind dark sunglasses, sometimes through hazel green eyes.

“Hey Bear, c’mere.” Your stranger asked, cigar hanging from his mouth. You made your way towards him, thinking about how no matter how much he drank, he seemed perfectly sober. “You from ‘round here?” He asked, no sunglasses today. You could see his pupils were blown and for the first time in two months you wondered whether he was actually buzzed. He smelled like good worn leather and the cigar he was smoking. You had to prevent yourself from closing your eyes when you inhaled his scent.

“Uhh, sorta kinda. Why?” You told him, shocked at the personal question, and also embarrassed.

The truth was that you weren’t from here, you’d moved here to be with an ex-boyfriend and it had ended badly. You’d gotten home from work one night to find the locks had been changed on the apartment as well as his phone number. Come to find out, he’d been sleeping around on you since you started dating and decided he liked his side piece more. So you’d called your boss, Sally, begging for somewhere to stay and she rented you the studio apartment upstairs. You struck up a deal, the apartment for half price as long as you closed the bar down every night.

When your ex’s side-piece decided she didn’t like him as much as she'd originally thought, he’d begun stalking you and things had gone downhill. He tried to get physical with you once but Sally had threatened him with a shotgun and he hadn’t shown his face again. That was ABOUT the same time your stranger had started coming to the bar, and for some reason you felt safer when he was there.

Apparently Sally did too because on nights he showed up, she took off early and let you close down by yourself.

“So I presume you know that guy in the corner over there? He’s been watching you most of the night.” He told you, clamping the cigar between his index and middle finger. You began to turn your body in the direction of the person he was talking about but a warm hand a-top yours stopped you. “Don’t make it obvious, Bear. Don’t want him to know.” His eyes raked down your body as he was speaking, drinking you in. You weren’t wearing anything fancy, fitted jeans and a black cropped tank with the bars logo on it, but the way he was looking at you made goosebumps cover your skin.

Forcing your mind back to the issue at hand, you glance in the corner, keeping your body facing your stranger. When you caught sight of the face in the corner, you paled. It was your ex, and Sally was gone, her shotgun locked in her office.

“You alright, sweetheart?” Your stranger asked, noting your expression, his hand rubbing back and forth across your knuckles. If you hadn’t been worried, you would have blushed at the way his hand held yours and the nickname he called you.

You forced your voice to sound normal when you spoke again. “Yeah, I’m fine. Just ghosts from the past.” You forced a smile, one that didn’t quite reach your eyes and were surprised to look up and find your strangers face held concern and a touch of tenderness.

“I’m gonna stick around late tonight, Bear. So keep ‘em comin’.” He told you and you felt a bit safer.

You worked the night away, one eye on your next drink ticket and one eye in the corner where your ex sat, unmoving. Your stranger did the same, only he kept one eye on you and one eye on your ex. At ten till close your voice rang out into the emptying bar, “last call!” The few that were still hanging out left not too long after, leaving you, your stranger, and your ex in the bar. You chose not to acknowledge that you knew it was him, hoping that the dark shadows of the bar would convince him that you didn’t notice who he was. After a few tense moments he stood, heading towards the front door so you turned to your stranger.

“I’m gonna run to the bathroom, Bear.” He said, the sultry tones of his voice soothing you. You took a glance at his retreating back before turning around and starting your wipe down of the back bar. A rough hand grabbed your wrist, pulling and making your body spin. It happened so fast that you didn’t get a good look at the face until it was the only thing in your line of sight. It was your ex, which shouldn’t surprise you but somehow it did. Your voice caught in your throat and you couldn’t attempt to shout for help from your stranger, your fear paralyzing you.

“I thought your miserable ass left this fucking town.” He snarled in one ear, face pressed against yours.

“You would think that when I left you, you’d have tucked that tail and ran back to mommy and daddy. Why are you still fucking here??” He sneered and you could smell the alcohol on his breath and when he pulled back, your wrist in his hand, you could see that his pupils were blown wide. He was high too, but you didn’t know what on. You didn't know why he was so obsessed with you, it wasn't like you had a great and powerful love. You thought his feelings were just hurt because you didn't take him back. “You stupid. Fucking. Bit-“ But he didn’t get a chance to finish because his body was ripped away from yours. You blinked and saw your stranger standing over him as he lay on the floor where he’d been thrown.

“Attacking a woman while she’s alone?” He snarled, that deep vibrato now a growl. He picked your ex up by the front of his shirt, his strength shocking you. “You piece of shit. Picking on a woman half your size while she’s alone?” He growled, shaking your ex while he was holding him up in the air. “What kind of an asshole gets off on that?” Your legs were shaking so bad that you sunk to the floor, the butt of your jeans wet from the beer and liquor that had been spilled during the course of the evening.

Your ex looked terrified, used to always being the bigger in a fight but he looked like a teenager next to your stranger. His mouth was moving wordlessly, almost like he was trying to make sounds but was too frightened.

“I’m not gonna hurt you tonight, but I swear to god if you come back, I’ll rip you limb from limb. And I’ll be here every night to make sure she stays safe. Get outta here before I change my mind, you piece of shit.” He snarls, dropping your ex unceremoniously on the floor in a heap of fear and embarrassment. He scrambles to his feet, sprinting towards the front door, letting it slam behind him. You see your stranger following behind him to lock the door before your vision starts to swirl with the beginnings of a panic attack.

“In through your nose. Out through your mouth. In through your nose. Out through your mouth.” You repeat over and over to yourself when you feel a large, warm hand on your shoulder and a low gravelly voice speaking in your ear.

“Bear. Bear. Are you alright?” You continue your breathing, adding a small nod to ensure your stranger you were fine.

“I’m gonna pick you up. You live upstairs right?” He asked and in the back of your mind you wondered how he knew that. But thoughts left your mind as strong arms wrapped underneath your legs and behind your back. Your heart rate was slowing, and your panic attack subsiding, so when he asked you which way the stairs were you were able to answer. His strong body carried yours up the stairs and into the studio apartment you resided in, slowing as he crossed the threshold.

“I’m okay to stand. You can put me down.” You told him, but he seemed hesitant and you swore he clutched you even tighter to his body. “Really, Stranger, I’m okay.” You said, smiling up at his kindness.

“Logan.” He whispered as he lowered your legs onto the ground, arm staying around the small of your back until he was sure you were okay on your own two feet.

“What?” You asked, not sure of what he said.

“Logan. My names Logan.” He repeated, fingers digging into the exposed flesh of your hip, biting slightly.

“Okay, Logan. It’s nice to not refer to you as Stranger in my mind.” You giggled. You stepped reluctantly away from his embrace, heading towards your ‘kitchen’. “Would you like a drink, Logan? All I have is beer and water.”

You heard him clear his throat and when you looked at him, he looked like he was warring with himself.

“Uhh, ya, sure Kid. Bear. I’ll have a beer.” He said and for the first time since you’d met him, there was a twinge of uncertainty in his voice. You popped the top on two, handing him one before heading to the small couch you had, a mere 10 feet from your bed. He followed, sitting next to you and doing his best to make sure he wasn’t touching you, but the area was so small that your knees touched anyways.

“So that was my ex. He was stupid enough to try and get physical with me once. Sally threatened him with a shotgun. I didn’t think he would be stupid enough to try it twice.” You tried to explain without going into the entire sordid story.

“I’m going to tear him in half.” He answered, taking a long pull of his beer and you felt ashamed at what the dominance in his voice did to your lady bits.

“I don’t think he’ll be stupid enough to try this again so hopefully I don’t ever have to worry about him again.” You assured your stranger.

“Logan.” You mused aloud, a small smile crossing your face.

“Ya, Bear?” He answered, thinking you were going to ask him a question.

“It’s such a normal name.” You snickered.

“What’s wrong with my name?” He asked, faux defensiveness in his voice at your teasing.

“I’ve wondered for WEEKS what your name was and it’s Logan. It’s so normal. It suits you though. I like it.” You smiled at him, hitching one knee up on the couch and turning your torso towards him.

“I’ll be comin’ by more often and stayin’ until the bar is locked down. Just to make sure that moron doesn’t come back.” He told you, venom in his tone, but in a way that had you suppressing a shiver. You wondered what he sounded like first thing in the morning, his voice filled with sleep. “What’re you thinkin’’ about, Bear?” He asked, almost knowing your thoughts. You flushed, embarrassed to be caught in your thoughts.

“Nothing, just how you manhandled him. I think you humbled him.” You lied through your teeth, hoping he wouldn’t realize you were thinking about HIM manhandling you.

“He’s a lightweight. Pushin’ people around that are smaller than him.” He told you, eyes skimming over you. You heated at his gaze and wondered to yourself how long it had been since you’d gotten laid. When you couldn’t remember immediately you’d decided it had been too long. “People like him always need to be manhandled, otherwise they don’t learn their lessons,” You glanced at his beer, bartender habit, and stood to get him another. Yours was still half full, so you only popped the top off of one and brought it back to him. You felt his eyes glued to your frame as you walked and tried not to let it go to your head.

“You didn’t have to do that.” He told you, even though he took the beer from your hands when you stretched it out to him.

“Thank you Logan. I don’t know what would have happened if you hadn’t been there. How did you know I lived upstairs though?” You asked, the memory hitting you quick.

“I’ve heard you speak to the woman about rent. Sally? And I’ve stayed after a few times when I come by to make sure you get to your car, and you never come out of the building. The lights go out though.” He told you, unashamedly. You were struck by the kindness of this stranger. He was looking out for you and you hadn't even known. He watched out for you and all you'd ever offered him was a warm smile and a cold beer. Your breath hitched in your throat as you muttered out a small thank you to him, but he simply shrugged and took a long pull.

"I don't know how to thank you." You admitted to him but he waved you off.

"Don't worry about it, kid." He said, finishing his beer. You decided it was better off to just thank him in a different way, probably with free booze. You decided in that moment that this man would never pay for another drink in the bar again, and you felt that Sally would agree. You would speak with her about it first thing in the morning, after you filed a restraining order.

[disneyprincemuke]

it was only a kiss * fem!driver

it's just a kiss. surely, it isn't that big of a deal, right?

pairings: logan sargeant x fem!driver

notes: LOL i'll write her race win and post it this week i swear!!

(series masterlist) | (📂 the sophomore year)

logan does not know when he started to go against his better judgment. it could have been the shots they were taking with dalton earlier in the evening, or perhaps it was when they locked themselves away in her room to eat the birthday pancakes she had gotten him.

maybe it’s a thing that just consumed him at the moment — the fireworks as the new year came and greeted them was an atmosphere he simply could not resist her in.

because he kissed her– no, he’s kissing her. right now. against all his rationalisation, without warning, without permission. without even thinking about it.

the last thing he remembers is her turning to him with a wide smile wishing him a happy new year and suddenly he was hunched over with their lips locked. everything seems to go slowly now like he was trying to savour the moment and remember the way she tastes for the rest of his life.

he didn’t know how long it took her back to start kissing him back, but she did, eventually. she put her hands on either side of his face and everything else just fell away. logan had never been the type to get so lost in a kiss before. his heart is skipping beats as he tries her damnest to pull her closer to him, as if their bodies are not already pressed up on one another.

suddenly all the things he’s spent the past 3 years worrying about didn’t matter. not one thought about how their friendship is too great to risk it for pops up currently, and definitely nothing about the neverending excuses about their jobs and their places in their lives now.

and it’s nothing less for her. when he bent down and crashed his lips onto hers, suddenly they were the only 2 people in the house. she barely heard the fireworks crack the sky apart or the way dalton looked up from the backyard to greet them, only to raise his eyebrows and giggle to himself as he went away to get more drinks.

nothing matters. just the fact that she and logan are finally kissing. after 9 years of friendship and 3 long years pining over him, this is their first kiss and the first time she’s getting to know his mouth.

it’s devastating — they should have been kissing the moment they realised they had feelings for one another, she thinks. her lips feel so at home against his like it was a match made in heaven.

it just feels so right.

logan doesn’t want to be the one to pull away. he’s been wanting to do this ever since he saw her snuggled in his bed 3 years ago and realised that he no longer saw her as a best friend. and neither does she; the feel of his lips against hers is not one that she wants to forget.

yet, the world is cruel that way.

they pull away at the same time, stumbling back with swollen lips and heaving chests. their eyes are wide, and she blinks rapidly as if she still can’t believe what had just happened.

how long were they kissing? he glances over the balcony and notices that the crowd once gathered for the fireworks has now dispersed into different areas of the backyard.

“i’m sorry,” logan says immediately, sensing the hesitation coming from her. he shakes his head, trying to rid himself of the intensity of the moment they’d just shared. “oh, god. i’m so sorry.”

“i,” she trails off, looking down at her hands. she’s yearned to have this feeling for years; she’s afraid that one sudden move might reveal that it’s just another dream and she’d wake up by herself in her bed. she looks up again with a soft sigh. “logan.”

she says his name and he feels all his defenses crumbling down in an instant. his name only ever sounds good when it rolls off her tongue.

“i don’t know what came over me,” logan starts to explain, still shaking his head. “i’m so so sorry. i didn’t–“

she shakes her head and takes a step forward, hands in the air in an attempt to calm him down. “logan. relax.” she takes another step forward with caution and grins very slightly as she takes his hand into hers. “do you wanna go get a drink first?”

truthfully, logan wants to kind of kiss her again. he’d waited this long, held himself back from the urge to want his best friend wholeheartedly only for him to realise that kissing her was just as dreamy as he imagined it would be.

he looks up from the ground when she squeezes his hand. she doesn’t say anything else, but there is something about the way she smiles up at him that compels his brain to quiet down for a minute. he nods and lets her pull him towards the door, he’s assuming to make an appearance at the party downstairs.

but oh, god, someone needs to tell him how to resist the urge to do the same thing again.

so they don’t talk about the kiss all night. instead of actually talking about it, they decided to join the party downstairs and drown themselves in alcohol until the sun rose. you know, doing the one thing they’re actually not foreign to.

even worse when she briefly remembered the way they’ve — at one point or another — said ‘i love you’ to one another while drunk off their minds at least once in the past 3 years.

and instead of talking about it after the party, stumbling back into her guest bedroom, they climbed under the covers and slept instead. next to one another. which wouldn’t be an issue since they’ve slept in the same bed multiple times, but this time was different.

it’s different because they’re tangled in one another with the blankets strewn over their bodies.

all logan can think of after he opens his eyes is how he’s finally where he's wanted to be after years of dancing around the thought of them. he looks down and is immediately enamoured by the way her arm is slung over his body, face nuzzled into the side of his body as her chest rises and falls steadily.

it feels surreal to finally get the girl he wants for a change. but he knows — and he knows that she knows — the reason they kept dancing around the possibility of them, and it’s still gnawing at him annoyingly from the back of his head. he’s tried to ignore it all night but it’s there.

all night, looking across the lawn as she interacted with his family, he found himself wishing things were different.

she moves very slightly, nuzzling her face further into him and stretches an arm out. for a moment, his heart drops at the thought that she would wake up. because that means that this would all be over and all rationalisation would hit her as well once more.

he doesn’t know though that she’d been awake for the better part of the past 15 minutes, frozen in her spot next to him, refusing to let it end. you never know for sure that you’re made for somebody until you fit perfectly along the crevices of their body every single time.

sure, they’ve hugged and shared beds before, but never this way. it’s an eye-opening experience to spend the night with someone innocently and suddenly realise that soulmates may actually exist in one form or another. it’s just upsetting that sometimes they come in the form of a best friend you’ve known for half your life, making it all the more damaging to keep thinking of them as somebody more.

but staying in this position any longer might cause logan to explode. she lifts her head slightly when she felt him rubbing her arm gently, met by a soft smile and she knew that the events of the night before would only bode disaster than anything else.

“you can’t keep avoiding me all day,” a voice follows him down the hall of the second floor of his home, “we’re in the same house for an entire week.”

logan doesn’t respond, just keeps walking further down the hall and down the stairs as if he hadn’t heard her pleas for the last minute.

they didn’t speak of anything either when they got out of bed. only excused themselves to freshen up for breakfast with his family before avoiding one another’s eyes and darting to different parts of the room: her to the toilet and him back to his bedroom.

“hey, what is your problem!” she shrieks. her footsteps echo down the stairs, grabbing logan’s shoulder to turn him around to face her. “you can’t just kiss me and then not say anything! what the fuck, logan!”

he looks up at her, standing two steps above him, furrowing his eyebrows slightly. he can’t possibly be the only one who can clearly see the implications of what transpired, right? “i don’t know what to say to you.”

she throws your head back slightly, blinking at him as she tries raking her brain for a response. what– what the fuck does that even mean? “what?”

logan huffs, lips pursed. “i want you,” he lays it down for her, shocked at the way that it had come out. frustration laces his every word as he speaks, simply because it’s… it’s frustrating to be this close to the person you want but can’t have. “it is as simple and as complicated as that. you know that, come on!”

“it doesn’t have to be.” he tilts his head, shaking his head before he turns around and walks the stairs again. she throws her arms into the air in frustration as she chases him again. “mate!”

“i told you,” logan huffs, turning around at the bottom of the stairs, “i’m sorry that i kissed you. i don’t know what came over me — i did it without thinking. i’ve wanted to kiss you for years, so i’m sorry i couldn’t hold myself back.”

“why are you apologising? did you hit your head and forget that i kissed you back?” she meets him at the bottom step and puts her hands on her hips. she closes her eyes and sucks in a breath, letting it out shakily as she says his name softly.

he shakes his head. “don’t even do that. that’s not fair.”

“don’t do what?”

“don’t do that shakey breath and then say my name whenever you don’t get what you want! this is different — this is not something as superficial as you not getting ice cream when you ask for it!” logan rambles, rolling his eyes. “it’s not the same!”

“then how do you suppose we should deal with this then?” she leans back on the railing of the stairs and raises an eyebrow. “you started the whole mess, i believe you should have an answer.”

“nothing can change. in fact, nothing’s gonna change,” he sighs, suddenly hoping that he can take his words back when she melts in her position and her frown grows. “not for me and you. you already know this, please, don’t be like that.”

she glares up at him, mirroring the frustration he’d been feeling all morning. simply for the fact that she knows logan is right. there are many reasons they pushed their feelings back but being in f1 together is the most prominent one.

“i know.” her voice barely comes out in a whisper, clenching her jaw as she looks away. it shouldn’t have to be this complicated, right?

love shouldn’t be this complicated.

“i just wish it was easier than this,” she admits, dropping her head as tears rush into her eyes. “i thought because we k–“

“me too.” he takes several steps forward, wrapping his arms around her. “but this is our reality. you didn’t work this hard to get where you are just for you to be reduced to the person you’re dating. we’ve had this conversation before 2 years ago.”

she freezes. as far as she’s concerned, he was blackout drunk that night they had the conversation. “you remember that?”

he hums. “‘course, i do.” he rests his chin on her head and starts to rub circles on her back. “i’m sorry it has to be this complicated.”

taglist: @wcnorris @treehouse-mouse @laura-naruto-fan1998 @mindless-rock @vellicora @leilanixx @ironmaiden1313 @angsthology @cherry-piee @christianpulisic10 @elliegrey2803 @33-81 @darleneslane @nikfigueiredo @happy-nico @namgification @sadg3 @kazuha-pista-badam @mellowarcadefun @glitterf1 @megatrilss1885 @peqch-pie @gentlyweeps-world @woozarts @meadhbhcavanagh @2bormaybenot @clemswrld @inejismywife @love4lando

[girl-in-the-chairs-void]

Hold me, Console me

Pairing; Logan x reader

C/w; hurt/comfort, fluff, Logan having nightmares

A/N; LOGAN HAS BEEN ON MY MINDDDD. Here’s a little mind dump for ya. Listen to “no one noticed” by the Marias because it’s literally the inspo for it!!!!

Tags; @pedroscurls

part 2 heheh

You and Logan were…different. He felt different with you, having all his walls broken down within weeks of meeting you; he never thought he’d feel so open again.

But there was something that always tugged at you. He leaves, during the night when you’ve dozed off into a deep sleep. He dozes off on the couch.

His groans and grunts when he has his nightmares was not unfamiliar to you and you wish you could help him through it but just won’t open up, won’t take down that last wall that you’ve been trying so hard to climb or break or just paw at.

He was having another one of those dreams- no nightmares, his past, dead faces everywhere. Flashes of the people he’s loved and lost; his mind mocking him with the fast forwarded slide show of all the horrible things that he’s endured. He doesn’t hear you at first. Your muffled pleas, calling his name.

Then he hears a desperate “Logan, please, wake up.”

And suddenly everything goes white. He takes deep breath through his mouth, sitting up on the leather couch suddenly. His claws come out in an instant as you jump back to avoid getting impaled, eyes wide.

His breathing is heavy- ragged, you were too close.

“Logan,” you crawl towards him, slow. A prey approaching its predator willingly.

He sheaths his claws in a blink, heels of his palms squeezing his eyes shut. A sharp, “no” is uttered before he’s reaching for his shirt and making a beeline for your door.

You run after him, blocking the door before he can reach the it.

“No, Logan! Not today,” your eyes are puffy, and pleading for him to stay. Just this once. “Please, stay”.

So fucking polite. He thinks. He could melt into you right then and there but he can’t. He can’t because he almost killed you. Almost hurt you.

You hurt her, like you hurt them. You hurt- you almost killed her. You killed them. You killed them. You killed her.

His face hardens at your plea but with one hand on his chest and a push, he can’t help but follow your orders.

“Baby…” He starts, choking back words, thinking in the fear of saying the wrong thing.

“Talk to me, Lo. You’ve been hiding here every night, in pain. I don’t like seeing you that way.” You sit him down on the plush yet worn out leather, sitting next to him. It groans under the weight of him and you as you let him sink further in.

He has half the mind and a full urge to pull you to your rightful seat on his lap, but he knows he can’t. Not right now.

“I can’t” his voice comes out shakier than he wanted it to. He doesn’t know what he can or can’t tell you. The horrors of his past have led him here, to you. Something he feels is permanent.

“You’ve endured a lot, life has given you too many hardships and I know it hasn’t been easy for you.” You say, reaching out your palm to wipe a stray tear away from his cheek, his beard tickling at your skin.

“But I want you to open up, please. Don’t like seeing you in pain, Lo.” You can feel your own tears running down your own cheeks.

He pulls you onto his lap, making you straddle him as he wipes your tears away silently. Pressing his lips to your forehead, he apologises in silent whispers; “I’m sorry” a kiss on your temple, “I’m so” his lips move down to your left cheek, “so sorry” then to your right before landing onto your own lips. It’s tender, filled with a thousand apologies and a million ‘I am here for you’s. He loves you, he really does.

“It’ll take time, bub.” He pulls away, hands still caging your face, calloused thumb brushing against your bottom lip as you up at him.

“It’s okay, take your time,” you cup his palm into your own, bringing it to your lips, peppering sweet kisses in the inside of it. So sweet.

“I’ll wait forever, but not too long, yeah?”

If only. If only that forever was actually as long as the word implied.

Because the next morning, you don’t wake up in the arms of the love of your life. There is no trace of him besides the lingering scent of his cigar.

He left without a trace.

[dear-ao3]

Not in the F1 fandom, but it is fun to get the occasional no context tidbit from you. However, we have some more time tonight. What is the Hot Gossip/Big Beef going on in the community right now?

well well let me briefly enlighten you about the shit storm at williams:

logan sargeant was dropped last week and replaced by a driver in f2 named franco colapinto. there had been various threats by williams team principal james vowels about this throughout the season because logan hasn't scored any points (their other driver, alex albon, who is far more experienced than logan has only scored 4 points this season. logans car has also been running parts from last year because they had a supply issue and couldnt get updated parts for his car all the time)

logan, btw, was brought into f1 too early from f2 by williams because they needed to fill a seat. so logan was lacking experience and was only resigned for this year cause they couldnt get anyone better. it was announced recently that he was getting replaced for next year but then they announced he was getting replaced for the remainder of this year on wednesday. logan himself found on tuesday.

his replacement, franco colapinto, was also a williams f2 driver and is even more unprepared than logan was. he has only done half of a season in f1 and prior to the race last weekend had only done 8 consecutive laps in an f1 car.

williams could have replaced logan with the mercedes reserve driver, mick schumacher (williams does not have reserve drivers because they use the mercedes ones because they use mercedes engines, kinda complex just go with it). mick has 2 years experience in f1 and is currently crushing it in another racing series (endurance racing).

when asked why he didnt go with mick, james vowels said that it was because mick was "nothing special" and then later apologized (after being roasted about it by mercedes team principal toto wolff) saying that he meant that he wasnt a generational talent like senna or max verstappen or whoever (probably a dig that he is not as talented as his dad was, michael schumacher, the 7x world champion).

this past weekend there was a race in italy. franco's name was spelled wrong on the garage by williams. but he managed to finish in 12th (impressive when you remember that the williams car sucks and this kid had virtually no prep or experience and this is the fastest track on the calendar).

mick usually is in the paddock at mercedes if hes not racing in WEC but this weekend he was in texas for a race. his mother though, corinna schumacher, was seen in the f1 paddock in italy. her son wasnt there so she really had no reason to be there.

turns out that she went to italy pretty much just to yell at james vowels publicly for insulting her son.

[imagineinside]

Eternal Claws (Logan Howlett x Fem!Reader) Chapter 2

Chapter 1: https://www.tumblr.com/imagineinside/760089693618618368/eternal-claws-logan-howlett-x-femreader-chapter?source=share

A/N: First of all, thank you guys for all the love on the first chapter! I was very worried about if people would actually enjoy the story I have planned for you and Logan ;). This next chapter focuses now on the grown reader, who is more mature and confident in herself. Please let me know if you want to see any specific tropes or moments in the future chapters, I am keeping the storyline rather broad as I continue building this world. :D

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

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

Current Applicable Warnings: 18+ (semi-explicit story), canon-typical violence, age gap (like 200+ with a 25 yr old), Alpha!Logan, Omega!Reader, a/o/b universe, sexual tension cause I live for that sh*t, pining, past (complicated) relationships, angst, fluff, more to come.

Word Count: 3,102 the hair flick makes me feral

Seven Years Later

Jumping out of bed, you completed your daily routine: rinsed off in the shower, brushed your teeth, and took your inhibitors before going to meet Cyclops and Jean in the cafeteria. You had met the two other mutants pretty early into your career at the school, and trained with them since then. They were rather taken aback by your mutation at first, with stealing life to provide it to something else and all, but they had grown to see the benefits.

You don’t see the Wolverine very much anymore, though he did teach your History courses up until you turned 18. Once that point hit, after your 18th birthday, you two developed a rather… complex friendship. If anyone had asked you if you were friends, both of you would have denied it. 

But those late night sparring sessions, where Logan would push you to the point of burnout, where he would inevitably carry you back to your room once your legs gave out… those moments told a different story. Or the morning after where he would wake you up with a knock on your door and hand you a stack of pancakes with chocolate chips, just the way you liked it. And you would ask him to stay to keep you company while you read. And even though he would never admit it to you or anyone else, he loved the calming sound of your voice reading to him in the early morning.

And perhaps he was there for entirely selfish reasons.

You lived in that blissful existence until Professor X sent Logan overseas for a confidential mission. He had been gone for nearly three years without a word to you or anyone else. Though who was counting, right?

You had noticed a while back, before he left the school, that Logan liked to hang around Jean a lot… but you didn’t let it bother you at all. 

Not at all.

Not.

At.

All. 

Your dear friend, Jean, had grown breathtaking over the years, her powers right alongside her. Any Alpha would be attracted to such a powerful Omega, it just makes sense. Still, you can’t help but feel a tad sorry for Scott. The Beta has done everything to keep up with Jean and Logan.

Of course, you have grown into yourself as well over time. The past three years especially. Your face lost its childish features, your curves becoming more defined every year. The rigorous training you had put your body through over the last seven years had filled you out nicely, though that was only a positive side effect. You just never wanted to be as weak as you were before. Ever again.

Walking into the cafeteria, you surveyed the crowd of fellow students and teachers alike, but you were surprised to see a second set of shoulders sitting beside your redheaded friend. Clad in a leather jacket with spiked hair. Logan wasn’t supposed to be back for another couple of months, at least according to the Professor.

“Logan,” His name left your mouth in a puff of air. It felt as if you were seeing a ghost after such a long time. Part of you thought he may have just up and vanished when he had left for that mission. Seeing him again felt… surreal.

The Wolverine turned in his chair, brow raised in that way it always was, though it fell when his piercing gaze landed on you from across the room. For a moment that lasted no longer than a heartbeat, you were afraid he would somehow not recognize you. But it was like the Professor had frozen everyone around you for an instant, everything else simply fell away. You could feel that stupid childhood crush come creeping back to the surface. 

He spent your first heat protecting you, so what? That was his job. You were too immature for him then, he probably still thinks about you the same damn way.

“Vitalia,” Logan called out your codename in a way of greeting, that look in his eyes making you feel invincible for a brief moment. Then the powerful mutant was rising from his chair and moving through the busy cafeteria to get to you. His shoulders moved in that same powerful way they always had, with a confidence that made your knees feel weak. When he finally stopped before you, you were toe-to-toe with each other. Jeez you had forgotten how tall this man was. “I wasn’t sure if I’d ever see you again,” he whispered before reaching down and wrapping his large arms around you in a bear hug you had forgotten always felt so good.

You didn’t fight as your eyes fluttered closed and you took a long, deep breath of his pinewood and leather scent. A scent that reminded you of comfort and home. A scent that you haven’t smelled since the day he left.

The Professor had locked Logan’s room upon him leaving the campus. At the time, it felt like just another nail in the coffin to you that the Wolverine was gone. But over time, you just wanted to smell him again, and cursed the fact that you couldn’t walk into his room to see and smell all he had left behind.

It was rare for you two to hug, though not unheard of. Despite your childish hope of having Logan as an–ahem–intimate partner, in your mind hugging was a line you rarely crossed with each other.

For the Wolverine, though, he just needed to make sure you were kept safe. You meant too much to him to let you go. But you didn’t know that… yet.

“Where did they send you?” You gently asked him as you rubbed at his back. 

It was a common occurrence for him to come back from missions, or–hell–even come to your room after a night terror looking for comfort. The first time it had happened, you think you were almost 20 at the time, he had just returned from a failed rescue mission for a young mutant boy. You were just getting ready for bed when a hard knock sounded at your door. Thinking that it was Jean returning your Math textbook, you opened the door, only to find a towering, battered looking Wolverine on the other side.

“Can I come in?” He had asked, his voice dark and hoarse.

You nodded for him to enter, closing the door behind him.

“What’s the matter?” You asked him as you pulled out your desk chair, not sure if it was the right time to take a seat next to him on the bed.

Logan swallowed, the sound echoing in the quiet room. “He didn’t make it.”

“The boy you were sent to find?”

All he could do was nod his head.

“Lo, I am so sorry,” you replied, tears pricking at your eyes. “Whatever happened it wasn’t your fault.”

Logan gritted his teeth together, his forearm flexing as he clenched and unclenched his hand over and over. Though you weren’t afraid of him, you never could be. “The townspeople… Not only was he a mutant but he presented as Omega.” A sob ripped from his throat, a sound you had never heard him produce before. “He never stood a chance.”

“Oh God,” you couldn’t say anything else… do anything else. You didn’t want to know what– “Do you need to stay here? I can sleep on the floor.”

He gave a solemn nod and ran a hand through his mussed hair. “Thank you,” came his response. You gave him a sad smile before rising to gather a blanket and pillow for the floor. Before you could get very far, Logan’s large hand was holding your cheek and his thumb rubbed away a tear streaking down your face. His hazel eyes felt like they were piercing through you, as if they were trying to capture you a million times over. Like he was afraid you would be gone the second he blinked. “I’m so glad that it wasn’t you… It wasn’t you.” He repeated, as if needing to prove it to himself.

You laid awake that night, listening to his heavy breathing as he cradled one of your shirts that he had asked for close to his face. By the time you fell asleep, you woke again to your door being shut closed, the shadow of Logan disappearing down the hallway.

You tried to ignore the fact that after leaving your room at night, he would move down the hall and knock on Jean’s door. You never told him or Jean that you knew what they were doing. It wasn’t worth the heartache for you. You just wanted to be there for a close companion, a friend… of sorts.

“They sent me to Russia,” he grumbled into your shoulder before straightening up and untangling his arms from around you, “I went in to infiltrate an illegal mutant testing program. And to free Professor X’s old friend…” As his voice trailed off, you got the hint he wasn’t in the mood to discuss it further. 

Instead, you gave him a watery smile and, before you could truly think about what you were doing, you rose onto your toes and planted a kiss on his cheek. “Welcome back, old man,” you whispered, only pausing enough to watch his nose twitch and his pupils expand to the rim, an animalistic look hidden in his eyes. You quickly turned away to try to hide the fact that your cheeks were quickly turning a shade of red.

But he caught it, he always did. And he would keep that look of yours ingrained in his mind, somewhere deep inside for him to peek at when he needed it the most.

You cleared your throat and strode towards the table, “It must be nice to catch up with everyone.”

“I came here to find you first,” his response had your steps faltering and mind reeling. You would have thought he wanted to see Jean or Professor X first, not… you.

You had to come to a complete stop when you saw the plate that was waiting for you at your normal eating spot. A stack of… warm chocolate chip pancakes.

You never stood a chance against the current of waterworks that came pouring out of you. Turning and sobbing into Logan’s chest, your heart so full of joy and relief that he was here.

* * *

“God I wish you never came back,” you spat at Logan from across the ring, spitting blood from your mouth onto the gray floor. The tooth he had knocked free hurt like a bitch as it regrew into place.

Over the years, especially these last three, you’ve been growing more and more with your mutant abilities. And apparently, with the ability to control life and all that, you can heal yourself at speeds that rival the Wolverine.

“Since Professor X told me you can heal now, I don’t have to hold back.” Logan laughed as he lunged forward, this time with two claws out on either fist. You made a mistake to block your upper body as he jammed both sharp ass knives into your legs, making you yell out in pain.

You solidified your place on the ground behind swinging you right arm upwards, hitting him in the jaw hard enough to knock him backwards and to get those damn, stupid fucking adamantium cat claws out of you. 

“Hey, sweetheart, you’re talking out loud again.” Logan called as he rose from the ground, both his claws retracting into his arms.

“Good, I hope you know how much I hate those things.” You seethed back at him as you walked from the ring to grab a drink of water. “Those fuckers have pierced holes in my mattress and sheets far too many times.”

Logan’s hearty laugh followed you to the bench, making it impossible to hide your own smile spreading across your face. “Hey, at least you’re strong enough to walk out of here on your own two feet now.”

Your smile falls faster than it started. “Yeah,” you sighed, “at least that.”

“You have gotten a lot stronger since the last time I was here.” Logan said, his voice coming from close behind you. For a brief moment, you thought you felt the ghost of a touch around your waist, but when you turned around there was nothing there. “Listen, um…” he let out a harsh laugh, almost like a scoff,  “I’m not very good at this kind of stuff which you know, but… I am sorry I left for so long.”

Maybe two years ago you would have relished those words. An apology coming from the big, angry Wolverine. But now, it just made you feel like a child. It made you feel like you were just a kid he felt like he was in charge of still. “I can take care of myself, Logan.”

“I know that,” he rushed to say, “I didn’t mean to imply you–”

“Scott, Jean and I are being sent on a mission.” You let the words tumble out of your mouth into the space between you. It felt like acid pouring out of you, leaving steaming piles on the floor that you could no longer cross.

“What?” Logan asked, shaking his head.

“Professor X wants us to go on our first mission.”

“No, I heard that. It’s just… you’re too young still.” Logan growled, his hands balling into fists at his sides. “I’m going to talk to the Profess–”

“Please, don’t!” You begged as you grabbed onto his arm when he turned to leave. Thankfully, it stopped him in his tracks. You looked down at where your hand was clasped around his wrist and released with a hiss, as if the touch had burned you. “I need this, Logan. Jean and Scott do too. I mean, it’s not their first mission but they need more experience out there.”

“When’s your next heat due?”

You felt yourself bristle at him, a growl crawling up your throat, “What the fuck does that have to do with anything?”

“There’s no way I’m letting you go out there on a mission if your heat is coming soon.” He growled and snapped his teeth at you. The look in his eyes made you recoil back into yourself, you hated when your secondary gender bowed to his. You weren’t any less powerful than him, so why did you feel like you had to listen to him? You didn’t even feel this way with the Professor.

“You don’t get to decide that for me!” You yelled back, despite your Omega reeling back from yelling at an Alpha. God, you hated those words. “You let Jean go out there even though she’s an Omega.” You hated throwing your friend's name out there just to prove a point.

Logan scoffed and tossed his head back, “That’s completely different, Vitalia.”

“What, because you’re just sleeping with her?”

A deadly silence fell over the otherwise empty training room.

Logan breathed heavily and took a step towards you, making your knees bend against the bench behind you and you fell to the wooden surface. “You don’t know shit about that,” he said, his voice eerily calm.

“And you don’t know shit about what I’m capable of.” You said, your voice losing its vigor as tears pricked your eyes. “You were gone for three years, Logan. Do you have any idea how much I needed you?”

“I know,” he replied, his voice retreating back to its calm, bassy tone.

“But I’m not the same little girl anymore, alright?” You begged to be recognized, your voice becoming watery with the tears in your eyes. “I need this mission.”

You watched Logan’s Adam's apple bob in his throat as he stepped back from you. “I know.” He reached forward and offered a hand to help pull you up. Hesitantly, you laced your hands together and tugged upwards, rising from the seat. “Just make sure to be safe. And come back to m–to us.”

You rolled your eyes and shoved at his shoulder in an attempt to lighten the mood. “I will, dad.”

“Hey,” he snapped at you as a smile played on his lips, “we talked about that.”

“I know, I know… it reminds you how old you are, old man.”

“Wow, you’re really asking for it aren’t you?”

You giggled to yourself and swayed your hips as you walked towards the exit (completely missing the way Logan watched every sway of your hips like his life depended on it). “I have no idea what you’re talking about,” you said with a wink.

A quick growl behind you was the only warning you received before you were tackled to the ground, an assault of tickles roaming across your ribs and under your armpits. Your laughter was contagious as it bounced around the room, Logan’s own baritone laughter mixing with yours. He hadn’t felt joy like this in so long. “I yield, I yield!” You yelled out.

His fingers stopped roaming as your laughter died out, and you realized how compromising of a position you were in during your attempt to escape. Logan was nestled between your legs, his torso keeping you spread open beneath him. And it just became inappropriate for your friend to have his shirt off, a heat forming in the bottom of your stomach as your eyes grazed along his happy trail that disappeared beneath his gray sweatpants. The need to peel down the band on his pants to see what that trail led to was overwhelming. You watched his pecs twitch as he leaned backwards, his large hands coming to rest on your hips. You wished he would reach around you and pull you closer to him, let you grind against him until you found a release that would have you screaming his name…

Fuck, you forgot he can sense your arousal and heartbeat.

You watched his pupils dilate for the second time that day, his eyes darkening as his grip tightened on your hips…

Clearing your throat you pushed away from him, and he let you go with little resistance as you slipped through his hands. “I’m gonna take a shower and meet Jean and Scott to go over mission details.” You weren’t sure why you felt the need to tell him that, but watching as he sat there looking wrecked because of you made your heart do something very strange.

Giving him one quick nod, you walked out of the room, running away from the man who had the power to destroy your heart.

Taglist (omg I can't believe I have one of these, love y'all): @kingdomhate , @sadslasher13 , @bontensbabygirl , @ferkillia , @coocoocachoogotscrewed , @craftycaptain.

[its-yours-truly]

Predicting Lunchly's downfall and why.

There's a lot of reasons why Lunchly's downfall will happen. From the 'beef' between the creators and reviewers, to the controversies, and to the ridiculous advertising, I'll lead you through all of that today.

So what I'm first going to talk about is the 'beef' going on between the creators of Lunchly -KSI, Logan Paul, and Mr. Beast- and other big YouTubers -Dan TDM, Tommyinnit-. A lot of people have ruled out buying Lunchly because of how KSI was treating Dan TDM over valid criticism, saying this is like a money grab. KSI then posted to X -formerly Twitter- a YouTooz of Dan TDM as if to say he's 'money grabbing' as well. KSI as well has a YouTooz made. A video of Dan was also linked onto X of him reviewing snacks as if to say he was a hypocrite. It was revealed the video was sponsored and he never told his audience to go and try these foods. A lot of fans thought that it was bullshit that KSI was trying to find ways to 'call out' Dan TDM because he made a valid point. The three stooges made a product that child fans can buy and buy again, which is something you can't do with merch.

A few weeks or so after the KSI vs. Dan TDM drama, Tommyinnit had mocked Lunchly, and Logan Paul was not having it. So he began to pull out screenshots from past conversations, and tried to find things on him people would 'hate' Tommy for. The internet sided with Tommy in this, including Jacksfilms.

I also think this product will eventually flop because of the controversies surrounding Mr. Beast. Parents and adults are not blind to what's going on. If you don't know, Mr. Beast is facing multiple allegations, from having child predators hired onto his team, from treating people's safety on the set of 'Beast Games' horribly. A YouTuber by the name of DogPack404 has been covering this drama along with 2 other platform creators, Rosanna Pansino and Jake Weddle. They've come out with their experiences, as well as reviewed videos, proving parts are faked. Mr. Beast not responding to these allegations is not smart because it shows he must be guilty of some -if not all- of these allegations, or are trying to make them go away.

Lastly, the design and creativity is horrible. It's an exact knockoff of Lunchables, with little to no difference besides a Prime and a Feastable. They have no new or fun products, the designs on the packaging are bland, and the colors contrast too much. If you look at the Lunchables packaging, they have warm and bright colors, and sometimes have characters on the packaging, like Transformers One characters. Lunchly has red and blue packaging with big text. Nothing cool. And they only have 3 products while Lunchables have at least 4, with multiple pizza, nacho, and stack'em variations. They also have other products, like dip'ems, kababels, and even grilled cheese and sub sandwiches. I will admit, having 'actual cheese' rather than a cheese product is great, but the marketing is awful. Mr. Beast, KSI, and Logan Paul did not know what they were getting into when they started to make this product. No amount of 'Thick Of It', marketing, or 'Lotteries' will get me, and many others to buy this product.

[spoonfulofmilo]

okay i lost the request for this haha - and this is why you copy and paste requests

request: Hi, could you write something reader x james vowles where he noticed that your forgetting to eat when stressed/busy and him making sure you always have something to eat/homemade meals/snacks, gluten free because reader is allergic. Reader noticing after a few times and just being thankful for her husband. Thanks :)

This is super random btw, but i find there’s a lot of requests for this kind of fics in my inbox, and I love them. I love doing the research and finding actual recipes. If you ever see me use a recipe, and you want the recipe, let me know in my inbox and I will be happy to let you know :)

if you want to participate in my 400 followers event, look here :) (which I think explains how long this has taken me)

Please keep requesting - y'all have awesome ideas we agree on a lot of stuff :) - my guidelines are here, and if you want some prompts, they are here.

also feel free to come in and start chatting to me in my asks, would love to get to know y'all better

and if you want to be added to my taglist lmk :)

james vowles x wife!reader

James would consider it one of his specialities, his ability to notice things about people. It had often become useful, knowing Logan was feeling down when all the rumours were circulating about his future, knowing Alex was worried about the car, knowing his junior drivers were concerned about his treatment of Logan. And he knew how to deal with it all.

This. This was different though. He had only been home for a couple of days in his 2 week break, and during that time he had noticed how stressed his wife was. She wasn’t in bed when he fell asleep, and was gone by the time he woke up. She barely came down for meals, and James was left to his own devices and often ended up doing more work than he was planning on doing in his break. 

And James had married Y/N 3 years ago, and had met her 6 years ago. He knew a lot about her. And when she was stressed, she wasn’t eating enough.

So while he was on a break from work, he decided that they both needed some food. Because they were both suffering the ill effects of neither of them really taking care of themselves, so James was being proactive.

The pantry was a mess, but it didn’t matter. James could make do. A glance at the sparse ingredients on hand had him muttering to himself as he pulled out a bag of gluten-free flour and the coconut oil that would have to do for butter.

It wasn’t the first time he’d found himself baking in the middle of the afternoon.

“Alright,” he said, already in motion. “Coconut oil, unsweetened milk, applesauce. Then vanilla, flour, cinnamon, nutmeg, ginger, salt. And don’t forget the apples.” The rhythm of the recipe felt comforting in the chaos of the day.

James moved quickly, whisking the dry ingredients first, the cinnamon scent filling the kitchen as he added in the wet ingredients. Then the apples, chopped small. The batter came together effortlessly, like this was how the afternoon was supposed to go. He popped the muffins into the oven, setting the timer, and the sweet, warm smell started to fill the house.

He pulled the muffins out once the timer went off, and while they cooled, he took a minute to melt some extra coconut oil with cinnamon and sugar. When the muffins were just warm enough to handle, he dipped them in the sugary mix, the crunch a perfect contrast to the soft, comforting bite. He smiled at the simple gesture.

The muffins would do the trick.

---

The next day, James found Y/N hunched over her laptop again, her eyes flicking between the screen and her phone, fingers scrolling faster than anyone could keep up with. She barely noticed when he walked into the kitchen, but James didn’t need to be told she’d skipped breakfast. He knew.

This time, he needed something fast and simple. He scrolled through the pantry and grabbed the gluten-free pizza mix with a muttered curse. Couldn’t remember the last time he’d been this unprepared for anything.

“Pizza bites,” he said, and though he didn’t expect it, he could already picture the way Y/N’s face would light up when she saw them.

As he mixed, the smells of garlic, oregano, and basil filled the air. The oven preheated with a hum of promise. James moved quickly, assembling the bites—mozzarella, pizza sauce, and the quick mix of ingredients that would take barely 15 minutes in the oven.

The timer went off, and he smiled, knowing exactly what would happen when he brought them out.

---

By mid-afternoon, Y/N was still hard at work, eyes glued to the screen. James wasn’t fooled. She hadn’t eaten, not properly.

He’d caught on a long time ago to the way she got lost in things, sometimes at the expense of herself. He didn’t mind, not really. But he knew how to take care of her.

The food processor whirred to life with the familiar scent of almonds, dates, and cacao powder. James added a pinch of salt and a few drops of vanilla, the rhythm of the process almost meditative. When the mixture was done, he dropped in some chocolate chips, rolled them into little balls, and set them on a plate.

The sweet bites wouldn’t make up for everything she’d missed today, but it would be enough to remind her that she deserved something good.

---

The event was busy. Too busy. James could see the telltale signs of stress on Y/N’s face as she reached for a snack, hesitant. She picked up a BBQ chicken bite, but hesitated before asking, “What’s in these?”

James caught the look, the flicker of doubt. “They’re not gluten-free, are they?”

The server explained them—chicken, bacon, steak seasoning, barbecue sauce—but it was clear Y/N was second-guessing.

James leaned in, his voice low but firm. “You should skip them, darling. I don’t trust them.” He didn’t care if it made him seem overly cautious. He wasn’t risking it.

“But don’t worry,” he added, giving her a quick grin, “I’ve got something else for you.”

He pulled out a container of crispy potatoes he’d made himself, all gluten-free, perfectly seasoned. Y/N raised an eyebrow. “You made these?”

“I did,” he said, giving her a wink. “And they’re safe to eat.”

She took a bite, her eyes widening in surprise. “These are amazing, James.”

He leaned back, satisfied. “You deserve the best.”

Y/N looked at him for a long moment, the exhaustion still there but softened by the simple act. “Thank you, James. I... didn’t know you were paying that much attention to me.”

He shrugged it off, pulling her in for a brief hug. “I always pay attention to you.”

taglist: @leosxrealm, @tallrock35, @wolf-knights, @janeholt3, @camelliaflow3r

[olsenmyolsen]

Chapter Twelve: A Weekend Away Pt. 2 - Black and Brusied

The Farmer's Daughter - (A WandaNat Story)

Masterlist . Tag list: @xenaizogie

Summary: Natasha calls Wanda just to hear her voice. Later on, Natasha gets what she signed up for when she agrees to box with Maya Lopez.

Word Count: 4.2K

Content: Feelings, Sam Wilson embarrassing Wanda, Yelena (r.i.p), Mayaz Lopez Vs Natasha Romanoff

"Tomorrow night for sure."

Natasha sent back and closed out her phone as Kate knocked on the guest room door. "Natasha, can I come in?"

Natasha rose from the bed and saved her breath by opening the door.

Kate stood in the hall wearing a completely different suit from the one prior. "Okay, be honest. How does this look?" Kate asked as she looked Natasha up and down. Her eyes widened a tad as she loved how the dress fit Natasha.

"I think it looks great, Kate!" Natasha was being supportive as she brushed Kate's shoulder. Kate looked down at Natasha's arm scars before looking at her own suit. "You sure?" Natasha laughed through her nose. "Trust me. You look amazing."

Kate looked at her friend. "You too." She didn't mean to, but she flickered her eyes to the scars Natasha had once again. Natasha saw. She lifted her arm up and looked at it, too.

Kate spoke up as she moved her eyes to Natasha's face. "Sometimes I find it hard to look at mine..." Kate's hand rubbed the side of her stomach. Natasha noticed. She then smiled. "We're still badass." She still had troubled days with her own body, but she didn't want her and Kate to dwell on it before the big night.

Kate laughed and flicked Natasha's arms. "Clearly. Come on, we should get going before I change my suit again."

Natasha picked up her phone and matching clutch. "I think the color purple suits you. Even if it is just a tie!"

They arrived at the event slightly earlier than the scheduled time, which was perfectly fine with Natasha. It allowed her to see everything before the majority of the public did.

However, as the two exited the elevator to the studio space for the event, they ran into an old buddy, Kate had forgotten that she had invited.

An older man with a beard, short, muscular stature, and thick brown hair.

"Oh my goodness!" Kate opened her arms wide as the man pulled his cigar away from his mouth and reluctantly accepted Kate's warm nature. "Logan!" Kate said as she exited the hug. "I didn't think you make it."

"You forgot you invited me, didn't you?" He asked as the cigar went right back into his mouth. Kate smiled as she spoke honestly. "Yep." She said, making Natasha chuckle slightly.

Natasha could tell Kate's nerves for tonight were starting to rise rapidly.

Logan moved his eyes from Kate to Natasha. "Nat, good to see you." Logan extended his hand. Natasha took it and shook it. "See, you still got that grip." The man spoke.

"See, you still have that bad habit of yours." Natasha pointed with her eyes to the cigar. Logan grumbled and rolled his eyes before taking the cigar from his mouth and putting it out on his left hand.

Dead nerves.

"Didn't know you were around," Logan spoke to Natasha as Kate looked between the two. "In the city?" Logan asked. Natasha shook her head. "Found work not far in a small town." Natasha lightly bumped Kate on the shoulder. "I actually ran into Kate this past week while out with some friends."

Kate flicked her eyes to Natasha at the word friends. 

"It's been nice catching up." Kate smiled and playfully bumped Natasha back. "It really has been nice." Logan slightly tilted the corners of his mouth up at that.

"What about you?" Natasha asked. "How have you and Kate contacted each other recently?"

Logan's eyes went from Natasha to Kate. Almost as if he was asking permission. Natasha briefly looked at Kate.

Kate took the lead. "Logan owns a few gyms around the state..." Natasha slowly nodded. "Okay..?"

"And so one day I was in the gym- not by myself, no I was-"

This process was going to take too long, especially with Kate's nerves. "Her girl goes to my gym," Logan spoke. Kate closed her mouth and turned to Natasha, who raised an eyebrow. Kate exhaled. "I was with Maya at the gym a couple of weeks ago, and in walked Logan. It was nice. It had been years since I had really seen anyone. We caught up briefly, and then I blinked, and he and Maya were in the ring."

Natasha tipped her head with enthusiasm. "Oh really?" She looked to Logan, who had crossed his arms—a sour look on his face.

Kate smiled, making Natasha smile. "Rusty in your age huh?" Natasha teased. "Alright, come on, Nat, have you seen her girl?" Logan kept explaining his reasonings for his ass hitting the floor in the ring, but Natasha just loved it. "I'd like to see you try." Logan sneered at Natasha.

"Oh, is that right?" Natasha looked from Kate to Logan, who nodded. "I can take her," Natasha said, making Logan smirk, but a figure joined the group before anyone could stop this idea from tumbling anymore.

They tapped Kate on the shoulder, making them turn around.

It was Maya.

Logan smirked. "I'll see you inside." Logan pointed to the event at Natasha and waved at Maya before walking away with a smile.

Natasha moved her eyes from Logan's back to greet Maya. She extended her hand and gave a large, friendly smile. Maya took her hand for the second time today and shook it with her own smile as her eyes looked up and down both Kate and Natasha.

Maya hugged and signed to Kate, making the younger one blush with a smile. Her eyes darted up Natasha's dress as well. "She says your dress is beautiful, and she didn't think you had those muscles hiding."

Natasha moved her eyes from Kate to Maya, who smirked at the redhead. She must've read Logan's lips. Natasha liked the challenge.

Kate could see where this was. "Oh boy,"

"You can see what they can do, let's say... tomorrow?" Kate didn't even have to sign. Maya read lips and smiled wide. She then nodded and looked at Kate, who rolled her eyes.

However, to both of the women, this was one to get to know the other one. Plus, if they could beat a friend of Logan's, all the more reason.

Kate could sense a friendship slowly blossoming, and she adored it.

Shortly after that part of the conversation passed, the trio moved into the art space, and immediately Natasha found herself stunned at the photograph her friend had achieved.

Black and white pictures hung from the ceiling scattered throughout the room. Natasha quickly recognized some of the many places Kate had traveled to, some of them from the military.

It was the perfect combination of living in two worlds.

Natasha glanced back to her friend, who was too busy with Maya, which was no problem. Natasha watched as the two of them started to walk off in a different direction. Maya's hand on Kate's back, moving it up and down. She was bringing comfort to Kate, and it made Natasha happy to see.

So Natasha quietly walked her own way around. She stopped and read the paragraphs below for a lot of them. She watched people walk by and listened to them murmur Kate's praises.

Slowly, the night progressed, and eventually, Natasha came to the end of a row and froze. In front of her green eyes were twenty or more hanging pictures, each one of a whole picture, and when Natasha moved just slightly to the left, she could see that it was her sister.

Yelena Belova, in black and white, was nude and wrapped in a beaten and tattered American flag. Her scars from her tours were on display and immediately Natasha understood the symbolism as she looked at Yelena's eyes full of tears.

Natasha took a step forward to examine the work closely. Yelena's dog tags were shown below a rip in the stars. Yelena's left thigh was exposed and pushed through the stripes.

Natasha was taken aback.

Natasha looked down at the photos and saw Yelena's left wrist lying open in the sand where the picture was taken, and as Natasha's eyes looked, that's when she noticed the only color in the whole art piece.

Yelena's red hourglass tattoo.

The same Black Widows wore—Yelena's callsign.

Natasha found herself gasping, her eyes watering. Natasha always knew Yelena would live on, but seeing it done so beautifully and with care, in a way only Kate could manage, struck Natasha.

Natasha heard footsteps cautiously walk up next to her before a hand worked its way around Natasha's body and pulled her close. It was Kate.

Natasha sniffled and threw an arm around Kate as they held each other. "I don't know what to say..." Natasha admitted. Kate understood and just allowed the two to settle in this moment. It wasn't until multiple minutes passed that Kate spoke up. "We spent hours on that beach.."

Natasha smiled at the idea of Yelena complaining about the sand. "She was a lobster for a week." Natasha wiped her eyes and laughed. "I bet. Even as a kid, she refused sunscreen." Kate smiled before patting Natasha's side and gesturing to the explanation of the art piece.

At the very bottom were five words.

In Dedication to Yelena Belova.

That night, Natasha cried into Kate's arms as the younger woman did the same. It was interesting to think... Kate and Natasha had on-and-off contact since the loss of Yelena but nothing concrete for a long while now.

And just by chance, Natasha ran into the Bishop girl days ago, and now they are back in each other's life, as if nothing had happened. It was comforting and brought a smile to Natasha's face because she knew it wouldn't have happened without Wanda.

"Excuse me," Natasha said as she left the group of Kate's city friends after freshening up. Natasha exited the space where the event was being held and pulled out her phone.

She ignored the text from Wanda sitting on her lock screen and instead called the girl.

Wanda wasn't expecting to hear back from Natasha for the rest of the night, so when her phone buzzed on Sam Wilson's coffee table, she left it alone.

"You gonna get that?" Sam asked from his spot closest to it on the floor. Wanda shook her head at Sam before focusing back on Carol and Bucky playing a fighting game.

What was it called Civil War? No Meele? Smash? Wanda could never remember the name of it.

Sam looked away from his friend and picked up her phone. "Uh, Wanda, you might want to get this." Sam smiled widely and spoke loudly, drawing everybody's attention.

Sam turned Wanda's phone over to show her the caller ID: Nat 🫡

Wanda quickly reached for it and yanked it out of Sam's before he even thought about answering for himself.

"Oh, come on, Wanda, don't leave!" Followed by laughter was the first thing Natasha heard once the ringing stopped. She recognized the voice belonging to Sam. Natasha listened as Wanda breathed down the phone until the background noise faded, and Wanda found herself in the garage.

The smell of rubber filled her nose.

"Wanda?"Natasha asked quietly. "Natasha?" Wanda answered.

Natasha smiled at her gentle voice. "Hi." Natasha smiled down the phone like a dork with a crush. Because she was. But so was Wanda. "Hi." The brunette beamed. "What's up?" Wanda asked as she began walking around the Wilson's garage.

"I was just at Kate's event- I mean, I'm still at it- I'm outside of it right now-" Natasha stopped herself and chuckled. She was getting flustered. "I... I.." Natasha was struggling to formulate what she wanted to say.

Wanda leaned against Sam's jeep. "Natasha, what's going on?" She had never genuinely heard Natasha be this lost for words. Natasha chewed on her bottom lip as Wanda's concern wormed its way through her before speaking again. "Kate made this stunning piece for Yelena..."

Wanda could hear the lump in Natasha's throat.

"Kate allowed me to take some pictures, so I'll have to show you. Like on the phone, not physically." Natasha once again laughed to herself, making Wanda smile.

Natasha really was coming back.

"I can't wait." Wanda softly said as she listened to Natasha's breathing. "I guess it just made me think about these last couple of days..." Wanda nodded even if Natasha couldn't see it. "How I never would've met Kate again if it wasn't for you being in my life. It might seem ridiculous to say, but it's true."

Wanda held her breath as Natasha kept speaking. Wanda loved her voice.

"I miss you, Wanda," Natasha said as she was sitting on the top step of the stairwell in the building. Her voice echoed off the empty walls.

Wanda froze at the words but melted all the same, but before Wanda could say anything back, the garage door to the house opened. "Found her!"  Natasha loudly heard Sam call out on the other side. "Sam!" Wanda yelled back as her secret moment was ruined.

Carol and Bucky squeezed themselves into the doorway with Sam as they watched Wanda flip them off before she turned her body away. "Still there?" Wanda asked.

"I am."

Wanda held the phone closer to her if possible. "I have an audience now." She spoke in an annoyed tone, but Natasha didn't mind. "I can let you go." Natasha politely offered, but Wanda rapidly shut that down. "No... I- Nat I... I miss you too." Wanda's face broke out with giddiness. The words left her mouth before cheers and claps annoyingly happened behind her back. "I'm sorry if you can hear them." Wanda offered with a happy laugh, but Natasha loved it.

"It's okay." A pause as each woman thought about the other. "I guess I just wanted to call and tell you." Natasha shook her head, a little embarrassed. "Okay." Wanda smiled. "Talk to you tomorrow?" Wanda questioned.

"Talk to you tomorrow," Natasha said as a yes.

"K-I-S-"

Wanda ended the phone call, and if looks could kill Sam Wilson would be dead.

Natasha woke up the next morning with her legs being crushed by Fanny Longbottom. She didn't remember the dog coming into her room, but at the same time, she wasn't surprised.

Natasha moved her legs out from under the dog, making Fanny look back because, somehow, Fanny was comfortable that way.

Fanny laid back down and huffed.

Natasha couldn't help but laugh as she got up. "Morning," Natasha said as she found Kate lying on the couch. Kate waved without lifting her head. "I ordered breakfast, and it should be here soon," Kate said as her voice sounded rough.

Mainly because the first thing Kate did this morning was puke.

Natasha came out of the kitchen with water and tea for Kate. Coffee for herself. Kate peered her eyes at the mugs as they hit the coffee table. "I don't remember drinking that much."

"You were trying to calm your nerves a lot last night."

"That makes sense." Kate hummed. "Maya tried to get you to stop, but that didn't work." Kate sat up slightly. "That also makes sense." Kate adjusted herself as Fanny came into the room. "At least I'm not you today." Natasha nodded before hearing Kate's words. "Wait, why?" She looked genuinely confused.

Kate smirked. "You have your spar with Maya."

"You're not scared, are you?" Natasha looked at Kate as they walked side by side into the back area of the gym where the boxing ring was. Natasha raised her eyebrows and smiled. "Not a chance."

Kate loved Natasha's confidence, but she was going to support Maya a tad more today.

As Kate and Natasha walked closer to the ring, they noticed a group gathered around. "Logan!" Kate called out as she spotted their old friend chatting with the referee for the spar, Happy Hogan—a former wrestler.

Logan gave Happy a pat on his shoulder before making his way to the girls. "Got quite a crowd, huh?" Natasha questioned Logan. "Don't look at me. When Maya fights, it's a spectacle."

Okay, maybe now Natasha was starting to get a little worried.

"Where's Maya?" Kate asked. Logan pointed to a speed bag she was working with to the left. Maya turned around as she saw Kate approaching in the gym's mirrors. With a glow of sweat and a smile, Maya leaned down and kissed Kate on the cheeks before signing to her.

Kate pointed towards Natasha. Maya looked up with a smile and waved. Natasha smiled and waved back. Eyes around the room looked from one to the other.

Natasha briefly looked around before walking towards Maya. Her head high but her eyes wandered over her competition. Just as she was doing that, Natasha discovered something she didn't know about Maya.

Maya was an amputee.

Starting halfway up Maya's right thigh was the beginning of Maya's prosthetic. Black and looking like carbon, Natasha couldn't yank her eyes away until the leg stuck itself out.

Natasha looked up, slightly embarrassed. Maya was looking at her curiously. "I think it looks badass," Natasha said honestly before Kate or Maya could say anything.

Kate didn't have to sign; Maya understood. She then pointed at Natasha's exposed arms and flexed.

"You too." She signed.

Natasha smiled and saw how similar they were dressed. Dark-colored sports crop tops. Natasha's grey. Maya's black. Along with black athletic legging shorts. Natasha wore black leggings as well.

Maya smirked at Natasha and signed again, making Kate slap Maya on the arm. "What?" Natasha asked. "She's being cocky." Kate turned to Natasha. "She'd said if you want to stretch, do it now. She would hate to break anything once you're in the ring."

Natasha loved it.

"We'll see," Natasha said before doing a 180 and walking away with eyes on her. She smirked.

Today was going to be fun.

"You good?" Logan asked as Natasha re-tied her hair up into a ponytail. It had been half an hour since Natasha had gone to her corner of the gym to stretch and get a quick workout.

"Yeah?" She questioned, looking up at Logan from the floor mat. "Just making sure." He softened as Natasha looked at him. He was the definition of a big softie. Hard exterior but a profoundly caring man. "I'm good, James." She said before winking and giggling to herself.

Natasha knew how the man hated to go by James.

"Well, excuse me for caring." Logan playfully rolled his eyes before sticking his arm out for Natasha. She smiled and took his hand, helping her up.

Natasha walked to the ring, and the closer, the better view she had of Maya jumping in place, swinging her arms.

She was ready and wearing purple boxing gloves.

"Wait, we're using gloves?" Natasha asked Logan as she stopped at her corner of the ring. Logan looked at her, confused. "Yeah, Natasha, this is a sparring match, not a fight on base."

Natasha softly jabbed Logan's arm and laughed. "I'm just teasing. Jeez, Kate was right. You really did lose your sense of humor." She made a face before jumping up into the ropes and hopping into the ring.

"Did Kate say that?" Logan asked as he climbed onto the ropes behind Natasha.

Natasha turned around and shook her head. Logan rolled his eyes and tossed Natasha her gloves. Red.

She smiled.

"Alright, ladies, are we ready?" Happy Hogan asked after putting the headgear on each lady as they stood shoulder to shoulder.

They nodded before turning to face one another.

Happy looked around at the faces of friends and strangers alike before addressing Natasha and Maya.

"Alright, I want a clean fight—no cheap shots. If a person is down, you do not engage. If a fighter is down for ten seconds or longer, the match is over. Remember, we're here for fun. If I call stop, that's it. There is no timer, just until someone wants to stop. We good?"

Maya knew the rules. This was mainly for Natasha, who listened to every word and took in the rules. Like Happy said, she was here for fun and didn't want anything to get out of hand.

"Are we good?" Happy asked again. Natasha And Maya nodded. "Alright, back up, touch gloves, and we'll start."

Kate cheered the loudest as Natasha and Maya touched gloves before the bell rang.

And briefly, for a moment, as Maya and Natasha started to circle one another, did Natasha think about Wanda and what she would do if she were here? Natasha thinks she would cheer louder than Kate and swear like a sailor at the action. Especially the drunker she got, the more her accent would come out like it did last week.

Should I have told her I was fighting today?

No, that's silly, right?

Natasha thought before she felt a force hit her in the stomach. She let her guard down. Natasha bit down on her mouthguard and brought her focus back to Maya.

Quickly, she backed away and swung, making fragile contact with Maya's right arm. The distance between the two widened once again.

Maya stepped closer to Natasha and landed another shot against Natasha's glove. Natasha watched Maya's stance as she moved.

Maya took a swing towards Natasha, but the redhead was able to dodge and readjust herself before Maya missed another swing. And another.

Everyone was quickly realizing that Natasha was faster. More nimble.

Maya knitted her eyebrows closer and tucked her shoulders in, expecting a hit from Natasha, but it didn't come. Instead, Natasha took a step back and cracked her neck.

She was studying.

Maya stepped forward again and watched how Natasha moved her feet. It was delicate, like a ballerina.

Somehow, Maya needed to get Natasha off balance to win this.

However, Natasha was watching Maya's eyes, and while Maya wasn't wrong in her assumptions, it left her unable to see the split-second Natasha went to punch with her right after faking with her left.

It sounded like a crack. The blow landed on Maya's ribs, making her stumble back. But Natasha was fast and ran forward with another blow to the chest and to the hip before Maya pushed Natasha away.

Natasha smiled, showing her mouthguard. Was it lousy sportsmanship? Who's to say? Maya liked it and let it fuel her as she raised her arms to cover her face.

"Do you think Natasha would use her spin move if we let her?" Logan asked Kate as they watched sweat fall to the mat as Natasha and Maya landed hits on one another.

Kate made an are you serious face. "She would've had Maya's head between her legs so fast." Kate paused. "Wait! That sounded wrong! What I meant was...!"

Logan tuned her out and went back to watching the match.

Natasha hooked right and landed a blow onto the side of Maya's head, but Maya leaned into it as she had readied herself, so as Natasha made contact, she swung upwards and nailed Natasha in the face.

Immediately, the redhead stumbled back as her left eye clenched close, and she tasted copper.

Natasha got a dose of what everyone knew. Maya could pack a punch. Still, she would never back down from a fight. Natasha raised her arms as blood fell to the middle of the ring.

With one eye already bruising and her nose bleeding, Natasha nodded to Happy and let him know she was good to go.

Maya grinned at Natasha's spirit. It reminded her of stories Kate would tell of Yelena.

A fire always burned in them.

Maya let Natasha get close, thinking the redhead would swing, but she was wrong. Natasha was backing Maya up into the ropes. The second she got there, Natasha stepped forward and swung to Maya's left, but she blocked it, leaving Natasha open to hit her in the chest, which Natasha took advantage of.

As Maya braced herself and took a hit after hit, her eyes found Kate's. With a face fit for an angel, Kate lifted her hands up and started signing.

Amongst phrases of encouragement, one stuck out.

I love you.

Three words pulled Maya off the ropes, making Natasha fall back as her speed wasn't enough for the strength of Maya Lopez.

Quickly, Maya went to work; her hits became faster. Natasha couldn't block them quick enough. Natasha could land hits but was taking more than she could. Soon, Natasha found herself taking a hit to her scarred shoulder before enduring another one on her face.

It was as if it was happening in slow motion. Natasha's body hit the ground. Blood splattered off her lips next to her. Maya watched as Happy stepped in and started counting to 10.

Natasha rolled onto her back, which made her wince as a jolt of pain shot throughout her body. As Natasha stared at the ceiling, she knew she needed to get back up.

Everyone watched as Maya raised her hands, cheering as Happy got to 6...7...8... Logan looked from Maya to Natasha. He bumped Kate on the shoulder as their stubborn friend started to get up.

Happy slowly backed away as he got to 9 before Natasha returned to her feet.

Natasha stood before Maya, who raised her arms, ready to keep going, but Natasha smiled wide, stopping her.

Maya watched as the redhead turned to Happy. He leaned forward as Natasha tried to speak through her mouthguard. He asked her a question, making her nod. Happy then turned to Maya, gently placing his hand on her right arm before lifting it.

Stating that she won.

Maya Lopez won.

Natasha knew she could've kept going and maybe won, but honestly, she had a job and someone special to get back to.

It was time to return to the farm.

dividers by @/benkeibear

[sacredwrath]

P3. Meeting the monster

Torture, beating, injury reveal, gore, infected wounds, nausea mention, taunting

Logan checks his watch, 2:36am. The house has been quiet for hours now, but he doesn't want to risk anyone hearing him leave. Another hour, just to be safe.

Around 3 he loses patience.

He climbs out of bed, putting on fresh clothes and grabbing the canvas sack he'd stashed behind his headboard.

As quietly as he can, he makes his way past the doors of his sleeping teammates and down the stairs to the main level. Jesse still doesn't want to sleep in their old room or pick a new one, so they pile on one of the large couches with Isa and anyone else who wants to join the slumber party. He knows they still don't sleep much, and getting past them will be the trickiest part of this.

He creeps through the living room, keeping to the shadows as best he can, stepping only where he knows the floor won't creak. He stops periodically to check they're still resting peacefully, but luckily tonight Jesse seems to be sleeping soundly. He smiles to himself.

Soon he reaches the far hall and darts into the shadows.

There are two more flights of stairs, the first to a large comfortable basement and the next to a massive unfinished wine cellar that, if Jake was to be believed, had once been a dungeon. Back when the house was a functional keep. Before the heros moved in it was used mostly as storage space. No one bothered putting much work into it, preferring to focus on the areas with more sunlight and a brighter history. When the heros moved in they needed somewhere to keep caught villains before handing them over to the authorities, but that was before everything fell apart. Now, they ignore the floor too.

The bottom of the stairs end in a large concrete room punctuated by sturdy support beams and five metal doors. The heros had replaced the existing doors with heavy steel ones with sturdy locks. Four of the doors lead to cells, and the fifth is a bare bones bathroom.

Logan unlocks a cell. He'd left Morgan restrained with his arms stretched above him. The exposed beams working to his advantage. He'd used a chain from the garage and a pair of handcuffs, hoping the combination would be enough to keep Morgan contained in his weakened state. Still, he enters the cell cautiously, prepared for an ambush.

Morgan stands tall, creating enough slack for his hands to rest atop his matted black hair. He sneers at Logan.

"Nice place.” He says, jerking his chin to encompass the cell.

“Shut up" Logan snaps back, trying to keep his voice calm.

Morgan scoffs, tossing hair out of his eyes. He doesn't look good, despite the confidant pose. His skin is too pale for his complexion, looking almost green in the harsh light. Fading bruises litter his face and hands, and there's something... off about him.

Logan had expected him to be angry, raging, and trying to escape, but everything about the man appears calm, controlled. His dark eyes take in every detail of his cell and captor. It feels invasive, like he's a butterfly on Morgan's tray, exposed, pinned in place. It's disconcerting to feel so scrutinized by the bedraggled, sickly man in chains.

"So..." Morgan drawls, dragging the word into two syllables. "Guess you're one of Jesse's teammates hu?"

The familiarity with which he speaks their name sets Logan's teeth on edge. His lip curls

"And you are Intelligence Specialist Adrian Morgan. Professional torturer for AQUA and lap dog of Commander Mathew Gould. You're the monster who's spent six weeks torturing someone I love."

He shrugs, indifferent to Logan's fury. "Pleasure. Since you didn't kill me, I guess I'm here for payback?" He doesn't sound afraid, or defeated, or even angry, just bored.

Logan circles him, pulling his switchblade from his pocket and flicking it open in answer.

"Great," Morgan sighs, "can I at least get your name first?"

"No" Logan snaps.

The man's attitude infuriates him. Why should he be so calm when Jesse can barely look at a kitchen knife without panicking? It's not right.

He needs this man to feel it. Everything he put Jesse through and more. He needs to replace every memory of Jesse's fear and pain with Adrian Morgan's agony.

He cuts away the man's mud crusted coat and shirt.

-and sucks in a surprised breath. “What the fuck-" The man is a mess.

Beneath his shirt, he is coated in dried blood. Purple and yellow bruises lay across his entire back in a messy criss cross, looking closer to an animal attack than any battle wound Logan's seen. In places, the skin is broken or almost entirely flayed away, leaving raw scabs struggling to heal. Mud caked lacerations overlay the mess, the skin around them swollen and red with infection. A careful web of stitches patchwork the worst of it together, but many are torn and ineffective.

Logan stares in shock. He knew the man had enemies, but not like this. Someome clearly got to him first.

He runs a thumb over a mostly healed portion, gratified to feel Morgan's muscles tense in anticipation of pain.

"The fuck happened to you?" Even as he asks it he knows it doesn't really matter. He doesn't really care. Except maybe to know who's hand he should shake.

"Fell down the stairs." Morgan quips. Logan shrugs

“Looks infected" He prods at the red puffy skin, watching closely, hoping to see the man flinch. He doesn't

"That's your problem now."

Logan raises an eyebrow, failing to see why he should give a fuck.

"Wasn't really planning to let you live through this.” He grins. “Hope it hurts, though." He claps him on the shoulder, harder than necessary, hoping again to see him flinch. Instead, Morgan barks a laugh

"Oh that's dark!" He chuckles, carefully watching Logan's slow progress.

He studies him with such profound intensity it makes Logan uncomfortable. He resists the urge to step back, instead meeting the man's gaze and letting his anger do the talking

The two men's eyes bore into each other. Pure hatred meeting Morgan's almost bored curiosity. Logan growls, he wants to see fear there

"Better get on with it" Morgan prods eventually "unless you're trying to stare me to death."

Logan's eyes don't waver, refusing to give an inch. Morgan yawns, finally breaking eye contact.

"Seriously, what's the hold up? You nervous? Getting cold feet?" He cocks his head, something seeming to dawn on him, and he lets out a surprised chuckle.

"Oh wait! No... that's it isn't it!" A broad mocking grin splits his face.

"How precious is this! It's your first time isn't it?... You're a virgin!" He cackles, throwing his head back in delight. "Oh this is too fucking good! Have you ever even seen real torture?" His eyes dance with mirth as he tries, unsuccessfully, to contain his laughter

Logan doesn't answer. What's wrong with him?

"Well, it's lucky you got me then sweetheart. I've got enough experience, for the both of us, I'll talk you through it."

"Shut up" Logan barks. This man is insane.

"Make me" He spits back, amusement dropping away in a fraction of a second to reveal derision underneath.

Logan moves, pressing the knife hard against his cheek. This close, he can hear the man's rapid panting breath and smell the sour stench of him. It turns his stomach.

"You'll have to press harder than that if you wanna see blood." He hisses, a crazed look in his eyes. “You sure you've got what it takes? You're not gonna pass out on me the second you break skin, are you?”

"You don't know me." Anger claws its way up his throat. The words taste of it as he forces them through clenched teeth.

"But I know Jesse. And you're their family." He pouts. "So sweet. Doubt they'd love someone capable of torture."

That makes Logan pause. What would Jesse think of this? He's honestly not sure. Even though they're angry, Jesse has never been one for revenge. He's not sure they'd be capable of something like this. He's not sure what it says about him that he is.

"Oh no!" Morgan exclaims, "didn't mean to freak you out. I'm sure it's fine.” He grins in mock sympathy. “Here, let me help. I'll make it easy for you. My first visit with Jesse, I had them strung up just like this. I like to start with a knife too. Most people haven't experienced that kind of deliberate pain before. Jesse was no exception -"

"Stop talking!" Each word spears Logan's heart, breaking his composure. He doesn't want to know this.

"You have to shock them. Show them they're out of their element. Let them know you're gonna hurt them and give a taste of what that means." The words spill out fast and brutal as gunfire. "What's coming isn't a back alley beating and a few questions. It's best to make them scream. Otherwise, they'll feel they've got the better of you. Jesse screamed. Only took like twenty minutes. They try so hard to be tough, but turns out, their ribs are especially sensit- oof"

Logan feels the crunch of Morgan's nose breaking against his fist, it isn't even close to enough.

"-they're just pathetic-"

Logan hits him again, and again, not letting him finish. Fists driving into his chest, ribs, stomach, face.

"You fucking animal!" He bellows, punctuating each word with another blow. "You don't deserve to breathe the same air as them!"

He wants to hear him scream. He keeps hitting, but all he hears is the frantic wheeze of breath in and out of the man's shattered nose. The weak little sound makes him see red

Morgan's knees buckle and he slumps in his chains.

Logan drags his head up by the hair only to see sharp, bloodstained teeth grinning up an him. Morgan hisses out flecks of blood and spittle with each labored breath, he's laughing.

"There you are" the words are strained, but satisfied, almost triumphant. They boil Logans blood

The knife is back in his hand as he moves behind his prisoner. Finding one of the partially healed wounds, he slashes through it, reopening and deepening it all at once. Adrian's body jerks and a painful grunt escapes him. Finally.

Logan drags the tip of the knife slowly across his skin, not deep enough to cut, gratified to see goose flesh rise in its wake.

He examines an area on Morgan's left shoulder, a spot where his skin is almost entirely peeled away and infection has set in. He drives two knuckles into it, cracking the scab. Morgan groans, trying to writhe away, but Logan follows his movements, increasing pressure on the wound. His groan turns to labored gasps before Logan finally pulls away.

He doesn't give the man a second to catch his breath before punching him in the same shoulder. Logan sneers, watching his face contort in pain.

It feels good

He lets himself touch rage.

Taking full advantage of the mans wounds Logan places each blow precisely, tearing open semi healed gashes and deepening healing bruises with his knuckles. Fury pours from him like a river broken free of its dam.

Jesses body. Their leg, smashed and unusable. The look on their face when he found them cowering against the cabinets, kitchen knife clutched in trembling hands. The way they act during their hallucinations. They way they look at him-

"How could you?" He roars, not caring that he's lost control. He wants to kill this man

"How could you?" Take their smile, their laugh, their peace! Their whole fucking life now revolves around Adrian fucking Morgan and the damage he's left behind

"How could you?"

An agonized sob tears from Adrian's throat, startling Logan back to himself. The man isn't laughing anymore. Tear tracks cut through the blood and grime on his face, and his body shakes with whimpered sobs he's trying hard to control

There's blood in Logans eyelashes.

He notices he's crying too. Trying to wipe away the tears only smears more blood on him, and suddenly the anger is gone, replaced by trembling hands and nausea. Disgust rolls in his belly at the sight of his bloody hands and the ruin of Adrian's body before him.

"I was wrong." Morgan gasps between labored breaths, his voice still holding the remnant of tears. "You do have what it takes. Congratulations," his eyes drift closed, body relaxing into the chains."You're just like me..."

Silence rings in Logans ears like the aftermath of an explosion, he's frozen in place, he can feel blood dripping from his right fist. After a long moment Morgan licks his lips

"I recommend getting yourself a whip, or a sturdy cane." He pauses "You can do more damage, quicker with those. They hurt worse and don't take as much energy as a beating. You look like you're about to drop" the absurdity of his words shock Logan out of his stupor.

"There's something seriously fucking wrong with you." He shoots back

Morgan tries to laugh, but it's closer to a sob. He sounds drained, uterly exhausted, but almost sympathetic when he says "Your first time will fuck you up. Be sick, if you need to. Take a shower, try and get some sleep. You might be in shock, either way you look almost as awful as I feel." He smirks

Logans eyes narrow. "You're a creepy little fucker. Aren't you? Even chained up in my basement you're still pretending you're the one in control. Trying to make me feel small. When will you get it through your head? You're nothing anymore."

He scoffs, eyes drifting closed again as Logan turns to leave.

"Wait." He calls almost reluctantly. He looks like he's about to say something he already regrets. "If you leave me like this, I'll suffocate. I can't stand for much longer, and hanging like this puts too much pressure on the chest."

Logan doesn't want to believe him, but he can hear the strain in his breathing already. Still, he considers just walking out. It's probably a lie, but even if it isn't... good riddanc. The world would be better off without Adrian Morgan in it. And he might be better off never coming down here again

He can't do it.

Releasing one of Adrians wrists to free the chain from the ceiling, Logan berates himself. If this man lives, if he gets out, it will be Logans fault. He should kill him now while he has the chance. Is it weakness? Too soft a heart? or is he just not done making him bleed.

Adrian slumps to the ground, cradling his wounded midsection. The only sign of his pain is a sharp intake of air as he curls in on himself. He holds his wrists out for Logan to recuff. They're already rubbed raw.

"Thank you." and he doesn't sound sarcastic or mocking or angry, just tired.

"Goodnight, Adrian." He spits, closing the door

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Tag list: @whumpacabra @turn-the-tables-on-them

[wolvertooth]

can you plz hate rant about the deadpool & wolverine movie… saw it last week and i didn’t like it all… very refreshing to see that someone shares my opinion lmao

i got u man👍 most of this was in my drafts from after the movie came out, but i just never got around to posting it. i added some other opinions ive had since then, tho theres still a lot ive said over the past month that ive totally forgotten about lol

the intro sequence was fucking HYPE‼️ but then, part way thru the movie, u realize....it doesnt ever hit that same mark again. WHERE TF WAS THE HUGH JACKMAN SONG THEY PROMISED? the trailers showed 95% xmen origins clips. the movie didnt mention it once. no the brothers line doesnt count. false fucking advertising. deadpools sexuality has been confirmed since 2014. and now, 10 years later, its still being reduced to gay jokes. and people still eat it up like its genuine rep.

that guy at the tva who’s whole punchline was that he likes men. why. in 2024. why is that allowed. his whole character was a gay joke. i mean so was deadpool, but this guys whole thing was. That. can i say homophobia? can i say i felt that? is that reasonable? this movie felt like a fundraiser for the future avengers movies to make up for all the recent flops.

i watched this shit twice and yea. i was right. the plot was half assed. once u watch it once, thats it. thats the fun. its all just cameos. the jokes didnt even make me laugh again, since it was majority shock based humor. my second watch thru i was trying not to fall asleep in my chair. the way it lacks plot isnt in the Not Coherent kind of way, but rather 'this couldve been a 40 minute monster of the week episode'....or maybe even a 2 episodes if they wanted to get freaky with it it just felt so separate from the rest of the movies, like it wasnt even a sequel.

literally, the movie begins with them abandoning the previous timeline and wade moving to a new ‘better’ one.....almost like hes moving over to a more sacred timeline.........separate from fox.........which is dumb af cuz the movie couldve been him accepting that whatever happens in ur life u cant go back and change, and u have to make due with the good u already have. the previous movie ended with him having a family, he didnt need a new one. i mean, they did that for logans 'learning moment', why wouldnt that also apply to wade? paradox literally says ‘hey we brought u in cuz the mcu is dying, so u should come over to the sacred timeline’ and then after he changes into his costume THEY CHANGE THE PLOT. THEY THROW THAT OUT. WITHIN MINUTES. now paradox is like ‘actually just your timeline is dying, and i wont elaborate on how that works. and also u dont get to go to the sacred timeline. and i hate you.’ WHY BRING HIM THERE AT ALL THEN IF THATS THE PLOT U CHANGED IT TO? ITS DOESNT MAKE SENSE. even if the plot was that he had to go to the sacred timeline cuz his own was dying, WHY WOULDNT HE BE ABLE TO BRING HIS FRIENDS?

what was the vanessa plot? they never explain why she broke up with him? theres like a tiny flashback where she says hes been distracted ever since he got rejected, rejected from what? clearly not the avengers, since that happens after she leaves him. so wtf was the motive here????? the cameos felt like props. especially the deadpool corps, which i feel like they didnt even skim a wiki article for. they just went off google images. which hurt me. cuz i reallyyyyy like those guys....in the comics, theyre a group of deadpools(consisting of lady deadpool, kidpool, headpool, dogpool, and deadpool), who in their first series save the multiverse from being destroyed(sound familiar?). theyre the GOOD GUYS. why tf would they hear cassandra nova say ‘hey im gonna kill the entire multiverse’ and go ‘alright sure whatever’. why were they in the void to begin with? how’d they get there? isnt the void just for movie continuities anyway? why was cassandra also there? how does the void work? why does the void exist? will someone please explain literally anything in this movie? why not have them come in later to save the fucking day instead??

oh lady deadpool...how they massacred ur character... OH KIDPOOL.....HOW THEY MASSACRED UR CHARACTER...... god speaking of that. cassandra nova had literally so much potential and they watered her down to just Evil Villain. she hasnt done much in the comics, but one the things she did in one them was using her powers for therapy on the xmen(which deadpool also made a cameo in). she sort of does this briefly in that one scene, but it was just so.....basic. bland. why was there no b plot with the rest of the main cast. did they think the audience doesnt watch these movies for them? cuz i sure fucking do. i was waiting for the continuation of colossus and wades epic romance arc. side note, the gay jokes in the previous movies felt even less queerbaity then these ones. this movies queerbaiting was just....sad. marketing queerbaiting. this movie WISHES it couldve been deadpool 2 levels of queerbait(shoutout to the extended sex mimicking scene set to In Your Eyes by Peter Gabriel)

did anyone catch at the end when deadpool was narrating and when he said ‘friends’ yukio and negasonic teenage warhead were on screen. did anyone see that. they disney gal paled them.

i know wade is supposed to be the Funny Guy but man. thats literally all he was this movie. the other ones has ANGST they had him be HUMAN while this one was like 'logan was mean to me one time ):' bro. what happened. where'd the writers go.

this wolverine was like. the wolverine 2014 wolverine. which is when fox wolverine started to lose character and just become grumpy and mean. hes also like that in Logan 2017, but the reason why this kinda attitude works in that one is bcuz hes old, hes fucked up, hes tired, and every fuck that comes outta his mouth he means it. and yet....still manages to experience other emotions. what a concept. ive read literal satire comics that understood his character more(shoutout to the What The--?! series). it just had me waiting for the 'gotcha! this wolverine is actually 3 dimensional!' but it never fucking got there. it was amusing in the beginning, but by like half way in, i did not give a single fuck about this guy. they tried to give him some emotional moment(like. the only emotional moment in the entire film) but it just...lacked the emotion. just 'heres my sad backstory. are u sad now?' and then they did the SAME THING AGAIN no we get it man u were at the bar instead of with ur friends and u went on a classic wolverine style berserker rage. why should we care tho?

i mean, sure, they could use the excuse of being in the type of depressive state where ur emotions numb out(speaking as a mfer with the came curse), and yea hes not the kinda guy to open up about his emotions unless he really trusts someone(which he would likely distance himself from forming connections with others after that kind of trauma), but with cassandra nova right there there was a missed opportunity for elaborating on that. for digging deep into his brain and telling why this fucked him up so bad. imo, if i were to write it, with everyone he gets close to he puts upon the expectation for himself that hes at fault for anything that happens to them. that he needs to be the savior, even in a friendship. to prove himself to be worth something. especially after a life of being convinced hes a burden by just existing as himself, he needs to have use in order to make up for the fact that hes Logan.

but whos going to save him? isnt he struggling too? whos gonna help you? looking at all the other logans across the multiverse, who is the wolverine? why do you keep falling for the same patterns no matter where you are and who you are? deadpool called sabretooth queen and she/her'd logan within like 5 seconds of eachother. that was pretty good ig

final verdict:

yknow. i think i get now the way fans reacted the way they did tho.

the other night i was rewatching the movie Hackers with my mom, saying that it was obvious the creators mustve known a lot about hacking in order to do such a good parody of it, out of love for the craft….but my knowledge of hacking is pretty minimal, so i have no actual fucking clue if that assumption is accurate or not. im just going off of a ton of references to hacking. for all i know, real hackers couldve hated this movie.

and thats how the average non comic fan saw this movie. they saw a buncha characters and references and thought ‘damn, they must really love the source material’ without knowing how much of a kick in the face it felt like to watch them get used and butchered like that.

[piastrixpole]

v. down under

pairing: logan sargeant x fem!oc (daisy shaw)

genre: written

based on the 2023 season

prev/ masterlist/ next

youtube!

porsche f1 team

recently uploaded...

DANIEL AND DAISY TAKE AUSTRALIA

loading comments...

user 1 so obsessed with them and their dynamic

-> user 2 the way daisy acts more like the older one is insane

user 3 HELP😭did anyone else catch the way daisy smirked at 0:18 when daniel referred to them as double d

-> user 4 girl was trying so hard not crack a smile

—> user 5 she was not about to get lectured by stella and the porsche pr team

user 6 danny's reaction to her turning up to the beach in a hoodie and docs will never not be iconic

-> user 7 "YOU'RE IN AUSTRALIA MATE NOT FUCKARSE ENGLAND."

—> user 8 "exactly mate. i'm not looking to get barbecued by the fucking sun."

timestamps! 0-0:30

"Hey guys, I'm Daisy Shaw."

"...and I'm Daniel Ricciardo."

"And today Daniel is going to be bringing me all around his hometown before we head back over to Melbourne next week for the race."

"Yeah baby," Daniel hollered towards the camera which was currently held by a very entertained Isla Wilson, their reserve driver "double D taking on Straya'"

Daisy couldn't help letting a little smirk slip past her professional composure at him unironically referring to them as 'Double D.' Still, she managed to keep an otherwise straight face at his words as she nudged him in the stomach slightly with her elbow.

"Oh...we can cut that right?"

Isla snickered from behind the camera "sure, just don't think they will."

☆

1:15-2:04

"Raincloud is going to take the first drive in Stacy, our lovely ride that the team has hooked us up with."

Daisy took a moment to admire the sleek red exterior of the Porsche GT3 RS the team had arranged for her and Daniel to be driving around during the video. "Stacy," she raised her eyebrow in what she hoped was the most judgemental manner possible "seriously?"

"Oi," Daniel's grin was full of mirth "Stacy's a perfectly acceptable name for a car."

Biting back with a rare glimmer of personality for the camera Daisy simpered "oh definitely, for an older generation sure."

"Actually I take it back," Daniel said to the camera following their every move "I don't think Daisy is even old enough to drive - wait you do have a road licence right?"

Driving was a touchy subject for Daisy. Which was ironic considering her profession, but Daisy Shaw had one real enemy in life. Not a misogynistic reporter, not Christian Horner who had very publicly disapproved of her acceptance into the sport - no, it was the man who had been her driving tester.

In her opinion though, girlhood was having personal beef with either your driving instructor or tester. It was a right of passage practically. Daisy was literally in her rookie season of formula 2 when she sat her driving test and it wasn't until after the championship ended in her second season that she finally held a drivers licence. And she liked to consider herself an incredible driver! Clearly Gary, the red-faced epitome of British men who looked about one pint of Stella away from imploding didn't agree with that judgment though because he had failed her four times.

"Just about," Daisy hummed, rather than admitting straight up that she had a licence she found it much funnier to let Daniel temporarily believe that she was in formula 1 but couldn't legally drive outside of that setting.

Daniel's eyes widened comically at her nonchalant dismissal "don't tell me you're still on like a provisional

"Oh, absolutely," Daisy replied with a smirk, playing along with the joke. "I have to have a supervisor in the car at all times, you know. It's for the safety of the public."

Shaking his head Daniel laughed "see I'm kind of nervous about getting in the car with you now."

"Nah it'll be fine," Daisy waved a hand to silence him "I've only failed my driving test four times."

"Four times! Mate- is it too late to swap places."

With a mischievous glint in her eye, Daisy revved the engine of the Porsche feeling the raw power coursing through the car. "Buckle up, Daniel," she said, flashing him a grin. "It's going to be a wild ride." And with the them sat in the car ready to go, she pressed down on the accelerator.

☆

5:17-5:39

Something about Daniel's exuberance had rubbed off on Daisy during this little roadtrip but she didn't know how he maintained such high energy constantly, she was exhausted just observing him! His enthusiasm for the beach though was entertaining, even to her whose main experience with beaches were the rocky English shorelines that could hardly be classed as the same thing.

"I'm not built for the beach," she remarked wryly, shaking her head as she followed him at a more leisurely pace.

They were polar opposites in appearance. The kind of stark difference so noticeable that it would probably end up as some reaction meme format.

"Not with that outfit you're not," Daniel retorted "you're in Australia mate, not fuckarse England."

"Exactly mate," Daisy deadpanned "I'm not looking to get barbecued fucking sun. I'll literally shrivel up and die on the spot."

"Sheesh, can't be having that D Shaw."

Daisy gave him a look. A look of neutrality laced with a hint of disappointment "call me that again and we're going to have problems," she joked "out of all the nicknames and you go with that one - even raincloud is better and I don't love that one."

messages!

race car barbie daisy future grammy barbie holly man eater barbie katie mother of all mothers barbie faith

man eater barbie @daisy is the dick good?

future grammy barbie katie💀

she's not shagging daniel ricciardo he's like over ten years older

man eater barbie it's not impossible!

mother of all mothers barbie maybe if it was you, but it's daisy we're talking about! not her type at all

race car barbie first of all ew

he could literally be my very older brother

and yeah like faith said not my type at all

man eater barbie oh come on dais

are you seriously saying there's been no little moment of sexual tension between you two all alone at his place ;)

race car barbie isla is literally here as well and he's over at his parents half the time

and no, i don't really fancy stealing verstappen's man i like being alive😌

future grammy barbie oh i bet you liked being alive after you crashed the other day

mother of all mothers barbie holly?

future grammy barbie shut up i was still typing

obviously talking about the guy that helped her out of her car after it

talk about a meet cute :) even if he did ruin your car✨

race car barbie logan...holly how are we twins

i aspire to have the same level of delusion as you sometimes

future grammy barbie literally name one time i've ever been delusional

man eater barbie you do realise you have a full discography of evidence for that right

future grammy barbie jail.

man eater barbie just because i'm right

also daisy if you're not going to hit that any chance you want to get me in to the race in aus?

race car barbie how embarrassing do you plan on being

man eater barbie very

calling up mum for the baby pictures

race car barbie oh would you look at that

no spare passes :(( what a shame

mother of all mothers barbie deserved

man eater barbie faith omg

you're meant to be on my side

future grammy barbie back to my point please!!

daisy x captain america was lowkey cute like i could see the vision

race car barbie ok grandma🧚‍♀️time to take your pills again

man eater barbie he's kind of cute though-

in like a kicked puppy sort of way

race car barbie i hate it here

[clickoly]

O'Knutzy Week - Day 2

Part II of Starboys, a Cubs Formula One AU

Characters by @lumosinlove, for @oknutzy-week-2024

Prompts: Changes, Racing

Links to: Part I, Ao3

Here comes Nutter Butter 🌻

•••

Endless weekend on a wave 

FormulaNews24 @formulanews24 (1d)

Eyes on the track as we witness history in the making! Silver Racing unveils a new bold addition to Tremblay's strategy team. Meet 22 year old Leo Knut, the youngest race engineer in F1 history. 

#ItalianGP #SilverRacing #LT10

"Loops!" Finn shouted. His curious eyes darted over the picture of a smiling blond man on the X For You page.

Qualifying was about to start and Finn was killing time, trying to calm his nerves before jumping into the car. 

The fireproof undershirt felt suffocating, and his cherry red racing suit lay unfastened and loose around his hips, in a hopeless attempt to beat the sweltering heat. 

Finn locked the phone's screen and pulled up from the desk he was leaning on, scanning the noisy garage. Remus was sitting on a stool, one leg shaking nervously on the footrest, lips pinched between long, bitten fingers. His full attention was caught between too many monitors at once.  

"Loops." Finn moved closer. 

Remus didn't bother to acknowledge him, he just pointed to a sheet of data on screen. "Here," he said. "You're braking too early over there, before the chicane."

"By how many–"

"Two hundredths," Remus was always one step ahead. "I've been up all night studying the numbers, Harz," he turned to him, looking resolute. "This is your only chance to get the pole." 

Finn blew out a long, deep sigh. "I know it is." 

"And I know you can do it." 

Can I ? Finn couldn't help but wonder. 

"Aw, Loops," he cooed instead. "You're gonna make me cry." 

Remus just shook his head affectionately. 

Starting from the front row on Sunday wouldn’t be enough. Finn wanted the pole position. But weighing down the load of an emotionally tough week were the expectations of too many people he couldn't disappoint. It was the Scuderia's home race, after all, and all eyes were on him and his teammate Kasey. 

Right now, however, Finn couldn't bring himself to think about numbers, times, and strategies. Together with his team, he had discussed all the details a hundred times that morning, right after the third and final free practice session. Because Logan had set the fastest lap. 

Finn knew exactly what to do and how to do it. He just wished he could escape that oppressive weight on his shoulders, the intrusive fear of failing—a bitter consequence of the events of the past week.

So he dared a topic switch, if only to avoid giving himself and his concerns away. 

"Hey, where's Black?" He asked casually. 

Remus eyed him suspiciously. "How should I know?" 

"I understand that you want to be professional," Finn arched one of his dark red eyebrows. "You know, being friends with the enemy," he pretended to whisper. "But honestly, you two are as thick as thieves." 

The veil of pink that brushed Remus' pale cheeks betrayed him. "You're the one to talk," he grumbled back, then pretended to check the time. "Green light in five, Harz. Go get ready." 

"You're no fun, you know that, right?" 

"Yeah? Want to trade me for your bff' s new race engineer?" Remus' grin was teasing. 

"No need to get defensive," Finn scoffed indignantly. "And that's why I asked about Sirius, by the way." 

"Meaning?" 

"I'm curious," Finn shrugged. "I thought he might have told you something about their new acquisition." 

Remus went back to the screens. "He didn't say much. Just that Knut's young and talented. But rumor has it he's a real hothead."

"Well," a familiar voice chimed into the conversation. "He sure is hot." 

A sharp elbow hit Finn's waist and he found himself shoulder to shoulder with a smirking Natalie Darcy.

"What's up Loops?" 

"Hey Nat," Remus laughed. 

"What?" Finn asked, confused by her amused face. 

"Were you blushing, O'Hara?" 

"No. I... I'm," Finn stuttered. "What? I wasn't blushing." 

"If you say so," she smiled smugly. "Sorry to interrupt, guys, but I need Freckle here," she gestured toward Finn with the camera in her hands. "Gotta get some shots for the qualy posts." 

"Better do that in the car," Remus suggested. "Harz, radio check in two minutes." 

"Copy," Finn nodded, then spun on his heels to go grab the rest of his equipment. 

"We should do another close-up with the helmet on," Natalie offered as Finn stepped into the car. "Fans go crazy for those big eyes, you know?" 

"Yeah?" Finn tried to act casual as Natalie nimbly captured his movements from different angles. 

"Yep," she twisted the lens again with a smooth flick of her wrist. "But I prefer Kasey's." 

"Of course you do," he chuckled, then finally pulled down the visor. "Wish me luck," he said louder as the engine roared to life. 

Natalie patted his helmet. "You won't need it."

–

There had always been a moment before a race when Logan would simply close his eyes and breathe deeply. A peaceful silence would permeate his mind, leaving out the deafening noise of twenty rumbling engines ready to run, and the roaring crowd, ecstatic and impatient for some action. It was a much-needed release to make room for concentration and nothing else, right before the emotional rush that washed over him every time the countdown began.

That Sunday, Logan was starting from P2. To his left, perfectly positioned on the first grid slot, was Finn's car. The crimson livery shone brightly in the few rays of a timid sun. The pattern of red and yellow lines on Finn's glossy black helmet, partially hidden behind the halo, reflected the afternoon light perfectly, drawing a slightly curving 17 on top of his head. 

Logan had tried to be mad about it. He'd wanted the pole, he'd put in a fantastic lap, and yet Finn had overqualified him by three hundredths of a second. He'd really meant to be upset, if only for the sake of appearances. But as soon as they'd climbed out of their cars, sweaty and out of breath, the glow that had brightened Finn's face at the crowd's loud cheers had instantly tamed Logan's furor.

On the other hand, the hint of disappointment in Leo’s voice had also been a hard pill to swallow. I’m sorry , he’d said over the radio at the end of the Q3 session, as if it had been his fault. But Leo had done a perfect job. He’d been confident and meticulous, showing his professionalism to everyone in the pit wall, and to Logan as well. He didn’t want Leo to feel guilty about that. Sharing the front row with Finn was a good starting point for a thrilling battle for the win. 

Still, Logan understood his concerns and the impulsive urge to prove that he was worthy of the responsibility he’d been given, despite his young age and all the rumors that had made their way to the paddock. 

Now, feet ready on the pedals and hands tight on the steering wheel, where gloved fingers brushed over the shift paddles, Logan looked out at the clear track in front of him and felt the first wave of adrenaline run down his spine. 

"Mode A on," Leo’s voice came through the earbuds. "Lights out in thirty seconds." 

"Let’s bring this home, Nut," Logan grinned to himself. "And tonight we're going to celebrate together." 

The next second, his eyes were locked on the starting gantry, intent and alert. Somewhere near the end of the pit lane, the hand of a clock marked two o'clock, and the five lights ahead of him began to turn on in sequence.

One.

Two. Breathe.

Three. Focus.

Four.

Five. 

It’s lights out and away we go here in Monza! Amazing reaction time for both men in Red, with Logan Tremblay still in between, contending the lead with O’Hara and Winter down to turn one. Here comes O’Hara first, then Tremblay, and James Potter goes to the inside, but Winter has the power to hang on to third position, as they all make their way through the first chicane. 

It wasn't until Turn 3 that Leo realized he was holding his breath, caught in his dry throat. He scanned the monitor, looking for anomalies, the back of his pen clicking insistently on the full page of notes in his journal. Everything seemed fine. 

The live feed showed Logan darting away from Kasey and rushing behind Finn, waiting for the best chance to overtake him.

"You all right, Knutty?"

Leo lowered one of the earpieces of his headset and faced Sirius, nodding briefly and giving him a polite smile.

"Good, you're doing great," Sirius smiled back, and once again Leo couldn't believe his luck. 

How many times he'd imagined this exact moment, he couldn't say. Late, sleepless nights spent over books. Endless days of training, split between work at the factory and research for his thesis. Leaving New Orleans, his family and friends, and moving to England to fulfill his dream. It all finally made sense, because this was where he was meant to be. 

He could be grateful for all the risks he'd taken, all the sacrifices he'd made. And on top of that, he'd been assigned to Logan, Silver Racing's star driver, to assist him in one of the greatest battles for the world championship ever witnessed.

Leo reached for the radio console with one hand and held the boom microphone to his mouth with the other as he spoke. "DRS is enabled," he told Logan. "Right now you're 0.4 behind."

Logan's voice came back scratchy, slightly static. "I'm trying," he panted. "He's too fast."  

As a fan of the sport, Leo had followed both of them throughout their careers. Finn was an incredibly gifted driver, and Leo remembered the struggle of the past few years, trying to get the best out of a very problematic car that had allowed him only a few wins. Logan was just as skilled, born to speed through tight corners and sharp hairpins. Lucky to drive an exceptionally fast car that had rarely been beaten in recent seasons.

Watching them race against each other had always been astonishing, an emotional experience like admiring a masterpiece of art. So it shouldn't have surprised Leo to see them battling for the lead, showing off technical offensive and defensive moves that were driving the crowd crazy.

Until something unexpected happened just before the start of lap thirty-five.

"Shit, look at that," Sirius nudged him, pointing to his laptop.

Leo watched as the track map on screen slowly filled with patches of different shades of blue.

"Heavy rain expected in ten minutes," he heard Sirius tell James over the radio, before looking back at him expectantly. It was then that Leo noticed the dark clouds approaching rapidly with the increasing force of the wind. 

A strategy. They needed a new, effective strategy. Quickly.

"Finn has fresh medium tires," Leo began, twiddling the pen between his long fingers as he spoke. "They're going to pit Kasey first, 'cause he won't have any grip for a full lap with washed hards."

Sirius kept humming as he followed his train of thought.

"And they might be expecting a red flag, or maybe a safety car if someone slides off the track. But if we call Logan in for inters as soon as it starts raining harder..."

"What if they don't want to wait?" Sirius said. 

"We'll pit him anyway, just follow plan A. Same strategy as the leader," Leo explained. "But if we manage to get Logan in before Finn, he could easily end up leading the race."

Sirius rubbed a hand over his dark stubble, his icy grey eyes telling Leo he was thinking a mile a minute. "Okay," he breathed. "But James is coming in with him."

Leo nodded. "It's going to be chaotic, but it'll work out."

Please, I need this to work out.

At the other end of the pit lane, the mechanics rushed to grab two sets of new intermediate tires. Then they took their positions in the pit stall, helmets on, ready to spring into action.

Leo felt the smell of rain first, the strong scent that the contact with the hot asphalt released. He spun around in his chair to hold a flat palm over the canopy, where a gentle drizzle wet his hand, the intensity increasing by the second.

He locked eyes with Sirius again as they silently agreed to proceed with their plan. A single, confident nod was all he needed.

"Box, box," Leo chanted over the radio.

"What? Already?" Logan protested.

"Yes," he insisted. "Please Logan, confirm the pit stop."

Now, this is unusual. Silver is calling both of their drivers to box on this lap. That's Tremblay coming into the pits, followed by Kasey Winter and, wow, it's getting crowded out there. It's going to be a real mess with the intensity of this rain. 

O’Hara stays out, and with a quick look at the data I can tell you he’s slowing down considerably to keep the car on track. 

With a 2.2 second pit stop Logan Tremblay leads the way out of the pit lane, Winter and Potter on his tail. And isn't that brilliant? They're coming back right behind the nine cars being called to pit right now! 

Ladies and gentlemen, we have a new race leader. 

The whole grid held out for eighteen laps in wet conditions, and despite the downpour, Logan managed to gain a considerable advantage over the others. Finn made his comeback to second place, overtaking car after car in almost zero visibility—a true racing masterclass that had sent a thrill up Leo's spine.

But Finn couldn't reach Logan, too far away, now engaged in navigating the infamous high-speed parabola just a few meters from the checkered flag. 

"Leo," Logan shouted into his ears. He could picture some kind of delirious grin on Logan's lips just from his voice.

And wasn't Leo delirious himself.

He stared, heart in his throat, as the GPS signal of Logan's car crossed the finish line. Only then did he realize what had just happened.

Leo didn't know what face he was making when Sirius clapped a strong hand on his back. His smile was euphoric, so wide it began to hurt a little in the corners. But he held himself still, enough to look composed if a camera caught him.

"Well done, Logan." He smiled into the mic. The radio message would certainly have been broadcast on tv. "A well-deserved win. You did a fantastic job today."

"I want you on the podium," was Logan's reply, a little breathless. Leo swore he could faint right then and there. "This one is yours as well." 

If this was a dream, Leo didn't want to wake up, ever .

Sirius had dragged him to the cool down room to wait for the top three drivers before the podium ceremony. He'd also insisted that Leo should be the team representative to accept the trophy for their victory. And as if that wasn't enough, Leo's mind was blown the second he spotted Logan and Finn walking together to their assigned posts, soaked from head to toe—their hair a complete mess from the helmets.

"Looks like I have a new nemesis," Finn greeted him with a teasing wink.

"Oh, you better be careful out there," Leo bit back, unable to stop himself from giggling when Logan rolled his eyes—a shade of green that stood out perfectly against his black racing suit.

"Not tonight," Logan said. "Tonight we're having fun."

"Yeah?" Finn sounded surprised. “What are you up to, Tremblay?”

Logan looked mischievously between them. "You're going to find out. Hey, Bliz," he turned to Kasey, who was busy chugging a bottle of water in one go. "You with us?"

"Sorry, guys," he panted a little, then smiled. "I promised a date to a fancy Italian restaurant."

"And you? What do you say?" Logan playfully shoved Leo. As if he could ever say no to something like that.

"Sounds fun." He crossed his arms over his chest, a mocking grin on his lips. "But wherever we're going, I am driving."

"No way," Finn and Logan chorused back, and a carefree laugh broke out of Leo's chest. He felt blissful.

And maybe it wasn't, but this all felt like a crazy dream.

[disneyprincemuke]

where the fun begins, 2 * ls2 (ms47)

it’s friday: logan throws the party he’s claims he’s having just for you to come around, not even knowing if you’ll be attending

pairings: frat!logan x reader, college!mick x reader

notes: um im on my phone in school i dont have a word count and neither did i plan on making this this long… sry guys uwu hope u like it (i’m desperately running out of logan gifs pls help me)

biggest thanks to @angsthology for helping me out with the white man fight and smug logan because i couldnt, for the life of me, figure that scene out so thank yew baby :*

(f1 masterlist)

| one | two | three | four |

friday rolls around, two days since logan had seen you in the bowling alley with another guy. he also spent the last two days organising a party, completely last minute, sending the entire house into a frenzy to set it in stone.

typically, parties are structured and planned at least two weeks ahead of time. but this time is different.

he can't ignore the frustration that clouds his thoughts when he thinks of that night. or you, in general. all he sees is you wrapped around someone else's arms.

he's been watching the door for the past hour, curious if you had taken him up on his invitation. it's been two hours since the start of the party, and logan knows damn well that word has gotten around about their open house party.

it should have been invitational only, as they usually host their parties. but it's way too last minute to make it an exclusive party. so, they made sure word got around.

he knows that you know what time the party starts. because mick's friends have already made their way into the frat house, drowning in alcohol and pressed up against girls on the dance floor. he only wonders if you would ever come by.

logan folds his arms over his chest, smiling smugly as he watches the crowd pour into the dimly lit home. he turns to oscar. "see? i told you i could pull it off."

oscar stops next to him, hands in his pockets. "i got to say – this is the most effort i've seen you put in a girl," oscar teases, glancing at his friend from the corners of his eyes. "you must really like her."

"i just don't like losing," logan scoffs with an eye roll. "especially not to some loser like the guy she's with."

losing? no, he is jealous. but he would rather abolish this entire party as a whole than admit that to anybody.

"schumacher?" oscar laughs, throwing his head back. "he's not even a loser, mate. have you even talked to him?"

"whose side are you on, dude?" logan frowns, throwing his arms in the air. "there is a wrong answer to this question."

oscar rolls his eyes and punches logan. objectively speaking, he is on mick's side; for your sake. but in a friend perspective, he’ll always be on logan’s side. but even he can admit logan’s a bit of a dick sometimes.

"whatever, dude." he smiles to himself, watching liam open the door to let another crowd in. "it's a very well-put-together party. i'm surprised. where did you get the keg on such short notice?"

logan has this shit-eating grin on his face, one that oscar desperately wants to wipe off. but he can only step back and watch the downfall of all his antics. it's funnier that way.

"frederik knows a guy."

oscar raises an eyebrow. "alright, mate." he pats logan on the back. "liam’s hosting the beer pong. let’s go?”

logan shakes his head, staring at the door with his arms folded over his chest. “later.”

“staring at the door won’t increase the chances of her coming,” oscar hums proudly, patting him on the back. he pushes him through the crowd of college students and massages his shoulder as he tries to find where liam had set up the table. "and anyway, they're coming after pre-drinks."

logan stops in his tracks. "how do you know that?"

oscar steps back with a smirk. "lily told me. did i not update you on that?" he sighs dramatically and rolls his eyes. "must have slipped my mind."

he knew, since the night logan plotted this party, that you and your friends would be pre-drinking before coming here. another reason you're apparently dragging your feet here is for lily – not wanting her to be alone in a frat house.

as honest of a guy oscar tries to keep himself, it doesn't remove suspicion from him trying to take advantage of her. understandable and respectable. so he told you to take your time.

"dude!" logan scowls, shoving oscar back. "that's vital information you should have told me ages ago! i've watched the door like a fucking hawk all night waiting to see if she's coming."

"it's funnier this way," oscar giggles. "also, it's because i'm dating lily."

"you're what? since when? why didn't you tell me earlier?"

"way before you started seeing her. but you're focused on the wrong thing, mate."

"i doubt that, actually."

"oi, beer pong bitches!" liam screams, his hands cupped over his mouth as he beckons for the pair to approach him. he's knelt on a bar stool to catch their attention in the crowd. "logan is up first for the public versus the house."

logan chuckles, slowly making his way towards the beer pong table once more. "are you sure? i'm undefeated, mate," he turns to his friends, "you'll never get your turn if i'm up first."

frederik grins, gesturing towards the rows of red cups filled with sizzling cheap beer. "we wanna see how long you last."

oscar giggles, patting his back. "revenge for making us scramble to put together this party at such short notice."

"and anyway," liam laughs breathily, stumbling into logan's body. he takes a sip from the red cup in his hand. "we have another table for the casual games by the pool."

"and i don't get to play at that table? how rude," logan scoffs, stepping towards the table. he spreads his arms out as he looks around the crowd. "any takers?"

there are a couple who try taking logan down in his own game of beer pong. but as someone who's always in attendance at every party on campus, he's simply mastered the game – how to distract his opponents when he's losing, how to throw them off the game, and how to hit the ball into the cups.

he's figured it all out.

the games pass by very quick, and logan only drinks a couple of cups out of the 6 opponents that are brave enough to step up to the challenge.

"seriously?" logan giggles, slightly intoxicated from the beer. he watches the previous guy walking away, greeted by his group of friends and consolations for a 'nice try'. but logan knows it wasn't a good try. he didn't have a fighting chance at beating him. "where's the real challenge?"

"i could probably beat you."

he hears a chorus of 'oh's from his own friends crowded behind him, lifting his head to meet a pair of blue ones. he sees you first, hands on someone else's body and an arm wrapped around your shoulders. his eyes land on mick, smugly grinning at him with a hand inside the pocket of his jacket nonchalantly.

"yo, isn't that-"

"liam, read the room."

logan doesn't notice lily threading the edge of the makeshift circle over to his side, greeting oscar with a smile. he tilts his head at mick. "you think you can beat me? i'm undefeated, bro."

he sees you whispering something at mick, swatting at him with a small smile. logan knows that look: the flushed cheeks, swollen lips and slightly smudged mascara under your eyes. you'd drunk a little too much during your pre-drinks.

and so do you with logan: the heaving, permanent sly lazy grin and slumped shoulders. you even notice the way he's already slurring at his words.

"mick, should you really be entertaining this?"

mick smiles down at you, squeezing you with a soft shake. "just a bit of fun. we're at a party after all. i'll keep it friendly."

"i know you will. but will he?"

"trust me?"

you tilt your head and lift an eyebrow. you sigh with a small smile, "fine."

"asking for permission?" logan scoffs. "what are you, scared?"

mick scrunches his nose, lifting his hands from you. "no, mate. reassuring her," he smiles. he slowly tears his jacket off of his arms.

logan clenches his jaw at the sheer audacity when mick turns around and hands you his jacket. he feels a wave of anger, something he's never felt before, rising in his chest when mick leans down and presses a quick kiss to your red cheeks.

this might just be jealousy. but it's an emotion so foreign to logan that he doesn't even notice it. in his head, he's just mad that he's lost you to this guy.

someone rumoured to have gotten into the school through his dad’s connections.

"you sure you wanna embarrass yourself in front of her?" logan asks sweetly, biting down on his bottom lip. "one more chance to back out, schumacher."

mick shrugs and steps towards logan. "all in, mate."

"just making sure you don't embarrass your little girlfriend," logan grins, craning his neck slightly and squints his eyes down at you. "you don't want everyone to see him lose to me, do you? you should advise him otherwise."

you don't even get a chance to react before mick steps into logan's line of vision to you. "don't bring her into this."

logan scoffs, eyeing mick up and down. he furrows his eyebrows and tilts his head. "huh?"

"let's keep this friendly?" mick smiles. he extends his hand towards logan.

logan's gaze trails to the hand held out in front of him. he chuckles dryly before turning away, earning another chorus of gasps and shocked whispers around him, walking over to his side of the table. "you know how to play beer pong, don't you?"

mick purses his lips together, retracting his arm before padding over to his spot. "yeah."

liam looks between them, drunkenly filling up the new set of cups with beer. the kiwi can only hope that they keep talking so that he doesn't have to rush with the cups.

"i can teach you if you'd like."

"no, i think i can handle myself."

"alrighty," liam stands, clasping his hands together. "enough yapping. play the stupid game, you guys. it's just beer pong."

logan remembers a time when you used to be in this crowd. cheering for him instead of some random guy you met in one of your classes. you should be on the other side of the crowd next to oscar and arthur.

logan doesn’t do great with losing. if that hasn’t been implied, he doesn’t know any other way to show it.

mick crosses his arms over his torso. “make a shot, reigning champ.”

“i can be generous,” logan scrunches his nose, pressing his lips together. “guests first.”

the boy across the table shrugs. the game doesn’t go by as fast as the previous ones that logan plays. mick was actually true to his word, knowing how to play the game.

logan’s drank more cups than he’s ever in the entirety of the evening. he has to take a couple of deep breaths, staring down at the table when mick hits the ball into the last cup on his side.

he lost. he… lost? how is that possible?

“good game,” mick smiles with a polite nod across the table.

logan scans the table, taking his last cup into his hand. he hadn’t even stood a chance against mick. he still had more than half his set on the table.

mick swiftly turns around, ready to approach you when logan speaks. “one more?”

“mate-“

oscar taps liam on the shoulder, his one arm around lily’s shoulders, and grins. “no, let him do what he wants,” he glances at lily, who is smiling back at him, “i wanna see how this goes.”

“he’s gonna get himself into a fight, oscar,” liam mutters, pointing at logan. “you know him.”

“let him,” oscar shrugs. “he’s an adult — he knows what he’s getting into.”

“one more?” mick asks, halfway towards you. “are you sure?”

“yeah. best of three?”

“logan,” frederik calls out, pressing his lips into a thin line and shaking his head. “mate. he beat you fair and square.”

“no, it’s alright,” mick smiles. “no hard feelings.”

“very hard feelings,” logan mutters to himself, reaching to the side to open a beer can to replenish everything himself. “you stole my girlfriend.”

liam quickly takes over logan, swatting his hands away as he fills one cup sloppily with half of the liquid trickling down the side.

the next game goes by even quicker than before, the entire duration flashing right in front of logan’s eyes. he’s lost again. at least, it was closer this time. it was tied down to one last cup. mick simply played his shot better.

in normal circumstances, maybe logan would have just taken the loss as one would. but this is mick we’re talking about. logan will be anything but diplomatic about it.

“you had me nervous for a moment there!” you giggle. you move your arm out to avoid spilling the cocktail that frederik very graciously mixed for you during the game. “i thought you were going to have to play the third round.”

mick laughs breathily, blinking rapidly with a hand on his chest. “me too. i’m filled with alcohol,” he laughs, sweeping you into his arms. he pressed a sloppy kiss to your cheek, lifting you slightly from the ground. “let’s go whenever you want to?”

“aw, mate,” frederik sighs, heading over to mick. “house rules: the winner stays until defeated.”

“no way,” you whine, jokingly tearing frederik’s hands from mick. “i wanna head to the bar and get another drink with him!”

“fuck this,” logan mutters, throwing the racket down on the table. he snatches the last cup on the table and glances over at you excitedly bouncing as mick swept you up into his arms.

he rolls his eyes, whirling around and heading towards the backyard of the house.

mick hums as you engage in a conversation with frederik, his hand still on your waist. “um, hold on,” he whispers, tapping you gently. “i’ll go check on him. he looks mad.”

you tug on his shirt. “no, he’ll be okay. he’s just a sore loser, mick.”

he laughs, shaking his head as he detaches himself from your grasp. “i just wanna ask him if he’s okay. i’ll meet you guys at the bar.”

you hum hesitantly, letting go of his hands finger by finger. frederik nudges you in the direction of the bar where oscar and lily are already walking towards.

mick steps out into the backyard, hopeful to find the blonde that turned his back on them. while he didn’t frequent petty fights, logan’s reactions are just very entertaining to him. all because he had failed to appreciate your presence when he was blessed with it and mick stepped up to take you out on a date.

and when he was hearing whispers about logan remaining undefeated at the beer pong table, he took up on the chances. perhaps the alcohol made him feel slightly competitive.

he’s ashamed to admit that he let his ego get the best of him and that’s why he stepped up to logan’s challenge.

“mate,” mick announces his presence, slowly approaching logan sitting on one of the sun beds by the pool. “i hope you didn’t take the game to heart.”

“fuck off,” logan mutters, dropping his head low. he picks at the grass under the bed and clenches his jaw. “what are you doing here anyway? shouldn’t you be celebrating with your girlfriend?”

“she’s not my girlfriend.” logan looks up, eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “yet.”

“seriously, what’s your deal? have you just come here to parade in my face that you got the girl or something?” logan pushes himself up to his feet. “i get it, man.”

mick sighs. “no. i was checking on you. you look like you had too much to drink there.”

“i don’t need you babysitting me,” logan shakes his head and folds his arms over his chest. “i’m a grown adult.”

“do you need some water? i don’t imagine you feel so good after chugging that much beer,” mick mutters under his breath. “you should really sit down.”

“don’t act like you care.”

“logan,” mick sighs, closing his eyes momentarily to let his frustration pass. “iced or room temp water?”

logan rolls his eyes. “stop acting all saint-like, man. i know you wanna hit me.”

“mate, i do not want to hit you.”

“for sure, you do. you just don’t know it yet.” logan shoves his hands into his pockets. he takes a step forward. “we all know you want to hit me. just do it.”

mick takes note of the step he takes, but stays planted into the ground. “i don’t want to fight you.”

“i know you do. the urge just hasn’t clawed at you yet,” logan grins sloppily. another step forward. “or are you holding back? because she doesn’t like messy guys and you’re scared you’ll lose her it you throw a punch?”

“i’m not holding back. fighting is a waste of time — i don’t like it.”

“she’s very conservative, dude, but she’s very forgiving,” logan nods, looking into the glass doors that lead into the house. he tries to spot you in the crowd but when he doesn’t, he returns his attention to mick. “you’re allowed a couple mistakes.”

“i’m not taking advantage of her like that.”

“i’m not asking you to take advantage of her kindness. i’m telling you that if you need to throw a punch or two, she will definitely forgive you. no need to be scared.”

mick laughs slightly, throwing his hands into the air to surrender. “i’m really not looking to fight with you. that’s beyond me, mate.”

“she appreciates when you let loose a little bit,” logan nods to himself. “why do you think we were going out all those months together? it’s not just cause i won her over with my charm, ya know. she’s got a bit of a wild side, mate.”

mick tilts his head, squinting slightly. he appreciates the extent logan is going to just to rile him up.

“if you don’t know that, then maybe she’s just not comfortable with you.” one more step forward. “i know so well a side of her even you’ve never seen before.”

“do you?”

“yeah,” logan answers in a low tone. he drops his head, one corner of his lips turning up into a smirk. “she’s got that perfect picture smile from a magazine, but you should have seen her when we went to this one party on campus.”

“ah. so?”

“do you know that she gets touchy when she consumes tequila?” logan perks up innocently. “very brave — she’s taken body shots before, you know. off of me?”

“okay? that was a frat party; of course you guys would host that kind of activity. i was there when that happened.”

logan ignores the jabs at the fraternity.

“kissed her yet? in case you haven’t, she tastes like those strawberry mints she always keep a tin of inside her pocket. they’re very minty, but it’s lovely.”

mick grins, pursing his together. “yeah, i know.”

“have you seen her in that one baby doll dress that she likes wearing a lot? what about her yellow sundress that barely covers her thighs?” logan pouts his bottom lip out. “it’s a scene when the wind comes by.”

“mate, you’re kind of crossing a line now,” the german chuckles. “don’t talk about her like that. i know you like her too.”

logan takes another step forward, eager to find that one trigger in mick. “do you know the mole she’s got on her hip? on the left side of her lower back. it’s really really visible when you’re fuc–“

“aw, fuck’s sake!”

logan almost bursts into laughter when he realises what had happened. his back meets the land of grass in the backyard, a pain shooting through his face. when he looks up, a crowd has formed around them during their conversation and liam is already knelt by his side.

lifting his head, he sees mick covering his face with both hands. he runs his hands through his hair as he looks down at logan with wide eyes, hands cupping his warm cheeks. “oh, my god. oh my god.”

oscar and lily pour out of the glass doors with a crowd following them out, the australian raising his eyebrows at his best friend lying back on the ground with a bloody nose.

“logan?” oscar asks, already knowing that he’s probably done or said something to trigger the normally calm headed man in front of him. “what did you do?”

logan scoffs, letting liam help him to sit on the sun bed. “i have the bloody nose and you’re asking me what i did? why don’t you ask him? he hit me.” logan points at mick as he takes the tissues that liam is putting into his hands.

oscar stares at logan. “really? you’re going with that?”

“yeah,” logan grins, glancing at mick. he presses the tissues to his nose, hissing when pain shoots through his face again at the contact. “god, dude. you don’t look like it but you can throw a punch.”

mick nurses his knuckle, taking a couple of steps back. “i know, mate. i’m not stupid.”

you stumble out of the glass doors, heaving as frederik keeps a firm grip on your shoulders. you were in one of the bathrooms upstairs — where it’s exceptionally cleaner — when mick threw the punch (frederik was holding your purse waiting for you outside the door).

when you made your way back down, the crowd inside the house halved. frederik would tap ollie, taking body shots off of someone, asking where everyone had gone.

and ollie, lying back on the table as he put salt on his stomach, pointed to the backyard and muttered something about a possible fight. “logan, maybe,” he muttered before promptly shooing you away.

you look at mick first, who has his shoulders slumped with oscar and lily by his side and is staring at you with guilt all over his face. then you look at logan, being nursed by liam and someone else, with a tissue and an ice pack against his face.

“yeah?” logan perks up with a scoff at you. “can’t pick who to nurse?”

@cashtons-wife @localwhoore @vroomvroomcircuit @foreveralbon @what-is-happening-helpp