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tinybubblesyay · 10 hours ago

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Who's That Girl?

Chapter 21: Face The Music

So...they kissed...what's next?

logan howlett x reader

TW: language, D&W.

A/N: hey!! well here we are...this is the last chapter...enough talking for the moment!! enjoy this chapter! and I'll talk to you at the end!!

→ this fic is inspired by the TV Show New Girl, Wade and Logan aren't Deadpool and Wolverine (no powers/mutant gene etc) but I did take most of their character traits and storyline!!

Masterlist /Previous Part

Wade tugged on his sneakers, already picturing the smug look on that one guy’s face from his usual running route. He hated running into overly enthusiastic joggers—too much pep in the morning. Why do they look so happy running? He groaned as he headed for the kitchen, rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

His brain was still half-asleep, running on autopilot until he spotted a figure at the counter.

At first, he didn’t fully register it. The smell of coffee wafted through the air, and someone was scrolling casually on their phone. But then it hit him—Logan. Logan was standing there. Logan.

Wade froze mid-step, blinking like he’d just spotted Bigfoot sipping an espresso. For the past several days, Logan had been the definition of now you see me, now you don’t. The man had been avoiding them, but of course mostly Y/N… He’d somehow mastered the art of slipping in and out of the apartment like a shadow, avoiding even the slightest contact. And yet, here he was.

Logan didn’t even glance up from his phone, sipping his coffee like it was any other day.

“Well, well, well,” Wade drawled, leaning against the doorway with crossed arms. “If it isn’t the ghost of roommates past. Long time no see, Peanut. What brings you out of the shadows? Forgot where the coffee pot was?”

Logan’s eyes flicked up briefly, his expression as stoic as ever. “Good morning to you too, bub,” he replied, voice calm but with the faintest hint of amusement.

It was that flicker—barely noticeable but there—that made Wade narrow his eyes. Something was off. Logan looked… lighter. Relaxed, even. As if the last few days hadn’t happened.

Wade squinted, stepping further into the kitchen. “Are you… okay?” he asked slowly, his suspicion growing by the second.

Logan shrugged, setting his phone down and taking another sip of his coffee. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

“Oh, I don’t know,” Wade said, waving a hand dramatically. “Maybe because you’ve been pulling a Houdini act for the past week—and don’t say that’s not true!”

Logan rolled his eyes, but there was no real bite to it. If anything, he almost looked amused. That alone made Wade even more suspicious.

Before Wade could press further, soft footsteps approached from the hallway. He turned just in time to see Y/N step into the kitchen, her bag slung over her shoulder.

How was she going to react when she’ll see Logan there?! He knows it’s been hard on her. And he knows it’s mainly his fault for putting his foot in it.

What he didn’t expect was the bright expression on her face at the sight of him.

“Hey,” she said warmly, her gaze immediately finding Logan.

And that was when Wade noticed it.

The smile Logan gave her wasn’t just his usual polite acknowledgment. It was soft, warm, the kind of smile that made Wade’s jaw drop because—wait a minute.

“I just need to grab my bag, and then I’ll be ready to go,” Y/N said, her voice almost shy as her cheeks flushed slightly.

Logan nodded, his tone equally soft. “Take your time.”

Wade blinked. Blinked again. His brain struggled to process the scene in front of him. Y/N disappeared back down the hallway, leaving Wade and Logan alone once more.

Was that supposed to be normal?

“What the actual hell was that?” Wade asked, his voice flat with disbelief.

Logan didn’t answer immediately, returning his attention to his phone like nothing was out of the ordinary.

“Logan,” Wade said again, stepping closer. “Explain. Now.”

Logan shrugged, as casual as could be. “We made up,” he said simply, like that explained everything.

Wade’s jaw dropped. “Made up?” he hissed, his voice rising slightly before he quickly lowered it. “What do you mean you made up? That could mean anything! Did you talk? Hug? Share a cupcake? I need details, man!”

Logan smirked, and Wade swore it was the most infuriating smirk he’d ever seen.

Before Wade could lose his mind completely, he leaned in, lowering his voice even further. “Care to elaborate? Or do I have to guess? And if you say it’s none of my business, I swear I’ll—”

Logan finally sighed, setting his phone down and meeting Wade’s intense stare. “We kissed,” he admitted.

For a moment, Wade was completely silent.

Then, in true Wade Wilson fashion, he exploded.

“WHAT?!” he whisper-shouted, his hands flying to tug at Logan’s shirt. “You kissed her? When?! How?! Was it romantic? Don’t leave me hanging here, man!”

Logan smirked again, his calm demeanor only fueling Wade’s frantic energy.

“You’re killing me!” Wade whisper-screamed, pacing back and forth in the kitchen. “I—I don’t even know what to do with this information! This is a game-changer, Logan! A life-changer! What do you—”

He abruptly cut himself off as Y/N reappeared, her bag now slung over her shoulder.

“Ready to go?” she asked, her smile bright and unassuming.

“Yeah,” Logan replied smoothly, grabbing his own bag and heading toward the door.

As he passed Wade, he reached out and playfully punched him in the stomach. Wade doubled over dramatically, glaring at Logan.

“See you later, Wade!” Y/N called cheerfully as the two of them left.

Still clutching his stomach, Wade straightened up, muttering to himself. “This is so not over.”

He was pacing the kitchen, muttering to himself about how life wasn’t fair and how he deserved to know more, when the sound of the front door opening made him jump. He spun around, ready to throw some sarcastic remark at whoever dared interrupt his spiraling, but his jaw dropped when Logan stepped back inside, closing the door behind him.

“Forgot something,” Logan muttered quickly, his eyes darting toward the hallway.

“Wait, what?” Wade blurted, completely thrown off.

Logan’s gaze flicked to him, and for the first time since Wade had known the guy, Logan looked... excited. Not just regular excited, but an almost boyish, slightly frantic kind of excitement. It was weird. It was amazing.

“I gotta make this quick,” Logan said, his voice low but urgent as he walked toward Wade. “I told her I forgot something, and she’s waiting for me downstairs, but—”

“But?!” Wade repeated, his hands shooting out like he was physically trying to grab the story out of Logan.

Logan hesitated for half a second, then sighed, leaning closer to Wade like they were two kids gossiping at lunch. “We kissed last night.”

Wade’s face lit up like Christmas morning. “YES!” he whisper-shouted, pumping his fist in the air. “Finally! Okay, keep going—what happened?”

Logan glanced at the door, checking for any sign of Y/N, then leaned back in. “It wasn’t just that. Before that... Mark showed up.”

The excitement in Wade’s face melted into sheer confusion. “Mark? Wait—her psycho ex? You’re kidding me.”

Logan’s jaw tightened, his hands clenching into fists at his sides. “He followed her on her way home. Pulled her into an alley. Had his hands on her—”

Wade’s eyes went wide, and his voice shot up several decibels. “WHAT THE FUCK?”

“I could’ve killed him,” Logan said, his voice low and guttural. His knuckles flexed like they were itching to throw another punch. “I swear to god, Wade, I almost did. He had his hands on her. She was crying—trying to fight him off—and when I saw that, something just—snapped. I put him against the wall, told him if he ever touched her again, I’d make sure he wouldn’t be able to crawl out of whatever hole I put him in.”

Wade stared at Logan like he’d grown another head, his mouth opening and closing in stunned silence. “...Okay, holy shit.You’re not even exaggerating, are you?”

Logan gave him a sharp look. “Do I look like I’m exaggerating?”

Wade shook his head quickly. “Nope. You look like you’re about to fight me just for breathing wrong.”

Logan exhaled hard, his shoulders dropping slightly. “I threw him to the ground. Told him to leave her alone for good. Made him repeat it before I let him crawl away.”

“Damn,” Wade muttered, his expression somewhere between impressed and horrified. “I know you’ve got the whole ‘strong, silent type with a heart of gold’ thing going on, but that’s... next level, man. Did she—”

“She was shaking,” Logan admitted quietly, a flicker of pain crossing his face. “I thought maybe she’d hate me for losing it like that, but... she didn’t. She just—”

“—melted into your arms like a freakin’ romance novel?” Wade finished, clearly invested now.

Logan shot him a flat look. “She cried. I held her. Then I brought her home.”

“And then?” Wade prompted, leaning in so close it was borderline invasive.

“And then,” Logan continued, his tone softening, “we talked. Well, I talked. Apologized for avoiding her. She said she was okay... but I could tell she wasn’t… It wasn’t... planned or anything. She was heading to her room, but then she just... stopped. She turned around and came back, and then—”

“She kissed you.” Wade’s grin stretched across his entire face.

Logan’s lips twitched upward. “Yeah. She kissed me.”

“And you kissed her back,” Wade pressed, practically bouncing on the balls of his feet.

“Of course I did.” Logan smirked.

Wade let out a strangled sound, somewhere between a laugh and a scream. “This is insane. This is incredible. You’re incredible. Oh my god, I need every single detail.”

Logan glanced at the door again, his grin fading slightly. “I’ll tell you later,” he said, already stepping toward the exit. “She’s waiting for me downstairs.”

“No!” Wade whisper-yelled, grabbing Logan’s arm. “You can’t just drop this and walk out! What else happened? What’s the plan now?!”

Logan shrugged, his smirk returning. “There’s no plan. Not yet, anyway. But...” He hesitated, his voice softening. “We’ll figure it out.”

Wade stared at him for a long moment, then sighed dramatically, throwing his hands in the air. “Man, you’re killing me. This is too good.”

Logan opened the door, pausing just long enough to glance back at Wade. “Thanks, Wade,” he said simply, his tone genuine.

“For what?” Wade asked, caught off guard.

“For pushing me,” Logan said, his expression uncharacteristically earnest.

Before Wade could respond, Logan stepped out, the door clicking shut behind him. Wade stood there in stunned silence for a moment, then finally shook his head, muttering under his breath.

“Attaboy, Peanut. Atta-freakin’-boy.”

———

Y/N and Logan walked side by side down the familiar route to the school. There was a quietness between them, but it wasn’t awkward. If anything, it felt… settled. A shift in the air, warm and unspoken, hummed between them—neither one daring to put it into words just yet.

Y/N glanced sideways at Logan, watching him out of the corner of her eye. He looked more at ease than he had in days, his shoulders relaxed and his usual tension nowhere to be found. It felt like seeing him again, after weeks of him being a shadow of himself.

“What time does your first class start today?” she asked, her voice light, breaking the quiet.

Logan turned his head slightly, his gaze softening as he looked at her. “Eight thirty. Yours?”

“Same,” she said with a small smile. “Though my first class is probably going to be a disaster. I tried a new seating chart, and I already know they’re going to hate it.”

Logan’s lips curved into a faint smirk. “Why do you do this to yourself?”

She laughed softly, the sound light and genuine. “Well, it’s too late now. Guess I’ll just have to brace for impact.”

Their conversation flowed easily, dipping into the mundane details of their morning routines and what they expected from the day ahead. The words were ordinary, but there was an ease between them that hadn’t been there before.

At one point, their hands brushed as they navigated a narrow section of the sidewalk. It was brief, barely more than a touch, but it sent a spark through them all the same. Neither of them acknowledged it, but Logan’s pace seemed to slow just slightly after that, as though prolonging the moment.

When they reached the school, the familiar buzz of students and staff filled the air. The spell of their quiet walk began to break, but the warmth lingered. Logan paused just outside his classroom, turning slightly to face her.

“Have a good morning,” he said.

“You too,” she replied, offering him a small smile.

For a moment, they lingered there, caught in the subtle pull that had been building between them all morning. Then Logan gave a brief nod and disappeared into his classroom, leaving Y/N standing in the hallway with a flutter in her chest.

———

The hours slipped by quickly, the rhythm of the school day doing its best to fill the spaces in Y/N’s mind. Yet, even amid the chaos of lesson plans, grading, and the occasional classroom disruption, her thoughts inevitably circled back to Logan.

She saw him a few times during the day—at the lounge when they both reached for the coffee pot at the same time, at the cafeteria when their eyes met briefly across the room. Each time, it was the same: easy conversation, quiet smiles, nothing really different… yet everything felt different.

Their colleagues noticed too. It wasn’t in the way they acted—after all, they hadn’t said or done anything obvious—but in the way the atmosphere between them had changed. The tension from the last few days had disappeared, replaced by a kind of magnetic ease that didn’t go unnoticed.

By the time the final bell rang, Y/N’s nerves had started to build. She knew what she wanted to do, knew that they needed to talk, really talk, about everything.

When her last student finally left, she made her way down the hall toward Logan’s classroom. The sound of her knuckles against the doorframe made him glance up from his desk, where he was packing away papers into his bag.

“Hey,” he greeted, his voice warm and even, though there was a flicker of something in his eyes—surprise, maybe, or curiosity.

“Hey,” she said back, stepping just inside the door. “You heading out soon?”

“Yeah, just finishing up.” He straightened, slinging his bag over one shoulder. “Why?”

Y/N hesitated for only a moment before finding her voice. “I was wondering if… you’d want to grab a drink before heading home. To, you know… talk.”

For a split second, Logan’s expression softened, his lips parting as though to say something. Instead, he nodded. “Sure. That sounds good.”

She smiled, her heart thudding in her chest as relief and nerves swirled together. “Okay. Let’s go, then.”

———

The bar wasn’t far from their apartment, a cozy spot with dim lighting and the faint hum of conversation that made it feel both intimate and secluded. They found a small table in the corner, tucked away from the other patrons. Logan pulled out a chair for her, his hand brushing hers as she sat down, sending a ripple of warmth through her.

The server brought their drinks—beer for Logan, wine for Y/N—and left them in their little bubble of quiet.

For a moment, they didn’t say anything. Logan tapped the side of his glass absently, and Y/N traced the rim of hers with her finger. Their eyes met briefly, and both of them chuckled, the sound soft and nervous. Logan was the first to break the silence, clearing his throat softly as he glanced up at her.

But it was Y/N who took the plunge. Her voice was steady, though her heart hammered in her chest.

“Do you regret it?”

Logan’s brows knitted slightly, and for a split second, her stomach twisted. But then he shook his head, his voice firm and unwavering. “No. I don’t regret it. Not for a second.”

The weight on her shoulders lifted instantly, and she let out a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding. A small, relieved smile tugged at her lips. “Good. Because I… I didn’t know what to think. I mean, after everything, I wasn’t sure if you…”

“If I what?” he asked gently, his eyes locked on hers.

She hesitated, her fingers nervously twisting the stem of her glass. “If you felt the same way.”

Logan leaned forward slightly, his gaze softening. “What’s ‘the same way’?”

Heat rose to her cheeks, but she forced herself to look at him, to be honest. “If you… felt about me the way I feel about you.”

The corner of his mouth twitched into the faintest smile, and his voice dropped to a near whisper. “Then yes. I do.”

Her heart leapt, a flood of emotions washing over her all at once—relief, joy, disbelief. She let out a shaky laugh, her nerves giving way to something warmer. “This is crazy, isn’t it? That we’ve been so… oblivious. All this time, it was right there in front of us.”

Logan leaned back slightly, a wry smile tugging at his lips. “It’s not that crazy. I don’t think I would’ve done anything about it, though. Not ever.”

The smile faded from her face, replaced by confusion. “What do you mean?”

Realizing how his words might have sounded, Logan straightened, his expression earnest as he rushed to explain. “Not because I didn’t want to. God, Y/N, I wanted to. I just…” He trailed off, exhaling deeply as he rubbed the back of his neck. “I didn’t think I could. I mean, you—you’re everything. And me… I’m just—”

“Logan—”

“Let me finish,” he interrupted gently but firmly. His voice was raw now, his words spilling out like he’d been holding them back for far too long. “You’ve always been so… good. And kind. And strong. And I’ve just spent my life trying to… survive. I’ve made so many mistakes, hurt so many people, and I’m terrified of doing that to you. Of hurting you. Because you’re the last person in the world I want to hurt.”

He looked away, his jaw tightening. “I didn’t think I deserved you. Hell, I still don’t. But when I’m with you… everything feels lighter. Like maybe I’m not as broken as I thought I was.”

The tears she’d been holding back slipped free, trailing down her cheeks. She reached across the table, taking his hand in hers and squeezing it tightly. “Logan,” she said softly, her voice steady despite the emotion trembling beneath it. “Nothing anyone says—nothing you say—will ever make me feel differently about you. Not even what Victor said, or whatever you think the world might think of you. I know who you are. I’ve always known.”

His eyes glistened, though no tears fell. He looked at her like she was the only thing in the world that made sense.

“I love you,” she whispered, her voice breaking slightly.

His breath hitched, and for a moment, he just stared at her, like he was trying to memorize every detail of her face. Then, slowly, a smile spread across his lips, soft and unguarded, his eyes shining.

“I love you, too,” he said, the words coming out like a vow, like they were meant to be hers all along.

The moment hung between them, warm and full of quiet understanding.

She let out a soft laugh, the tension melting away. “So… we’re taking things slow, right? One step at a time?”

Logan smirked, leaning back in his seat. “Sure. Except, you know, we’ve already skipped about ten steps. Roommates first, coworkers second, and now…”

Y/N grinned, finishing for him, “And now this.”

They both laughed, the sound easy and light.

“We’re not exactly conventional, are we?” Logan asked.

“Not even a little,” she replied, her grin widening. “But what’s conventional anyway?”

Logan leaned forward again, resting his forearms on the table, his gaze steady on hers. “Yeah. You’re right. And for the record, I don’t mind skipping steps, as long as we end up in the same place.”

Her smile softened at his words, the vulnerability in his voice making her chest ache in the best way. “I don’t mind either.”

They sat there for another moment, just looking at each other, the silence comfortable and filled with unspoken promises. Outside, the world carried on, but in their little corner of the bar, it felt like time had slowed just for them.

Y/N glanced at her watch, a reluctant sigh escaping her lips. “We should probably head back before Wade thinks we’ve skipped a few more steps.”

Logan laughed, standing up and reaching for his coat. “He probably already thinks that.”

Y/N grabbed her bag, shaking her head with a fond smile as they headed for the door.

The walk back to the apartment was quiet but not awkward, their hands brushing occasionally before Logan finally took hers in his. She glanced up at him, her cheeks warming, but she didn’t let go.

“So,” Y/N said, glancing up at him with a playful smirk. “What’s next on the list of steps? Couple dinners? Grocery shopping?”

Logan chuckled, his thumb brushing over the back of her hand. “Sounds thrilling. We should probably pick up a checklist, just to be thorough.”

“Oh, of course,” she replied with mock seriousness. “Can’t risk skipping any more steps.”

When they reached the apartment, the warm glow of the living room lights spilled through the window, a sign that Wade was home. As soon as they stepped inside, Wade turned from where he was sitting on the couch, his eyebrows raising.

“Would you look at that…” he drawled, smirking. “Don’t worry, I’m not going to say anything about how you two look suspiciously happy or how your hands were totally linked when you walked in.”

Y/N rolled her eyes, slipping off her coat. “You just did, Wade.”

Wade finally looked up, a smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Fine, fine. But just so you know, when you eventually tell me about this—because you will—I want to hear every detail. And for the record…” he leaned back, arms crossed. “Don’t forget my name when you send out the wedding invites. That’s all.”

Logan shot him a warning look, though the corners of his mouth twitched. “Don’t you have something better to do?”

“Not really.” Wade grinned but stood up anyway, throwing a wink over his shoulder as he headed toward his room. “Carry on, lovebirds.”

He disappeared before either of them could respond, leaving Y/N and Logan standing in the middle of the living room.

Y/N let out a laugh, looking at Logan. “He’s never going to let this go, is he?”

Logan smirked, stepping closer and brushing a strand of hair out of her face. “Probably not. But I can handle him.”

She smiled, glancing down as she slipped out of her shoes. “I’m going to change into something more comfortable.”

As she turned to leave, Logan caught her hand, spinning her back toward him in one smooth motion. The twirl was so effortless it made her laugh, but her breath caught as he leaned down, his lips brushing hers in a sweet, lingering kiss.

When they broke apart, her cheeks were flushed, her eyes shining.

“That was…” Y/N started, her voice barely above a whisper.

“Yeah,” Logan murmured, his smile widening.

“OH MY GOD!”

They jumped apart, turning to see Wade standing in the hallway, his hands over his mouth, acting dramatically shocked.

“You couldn’t wait, huh? Right here in the living room, in front of God and me?”

Y/N’s face burned as she tried—and failed—to come up with a response. Logan, however, was unfazed. He ran a hand through his hair, his lips quirking into a smirk. “What are you still doing here?”

“I live here,” Wade deadpanned. “But don’t mind me. Please, continue. I’ll just… avert my eyes.” He covered his face with both hands, peeking through his fingers a moment later. “Or not.”

Logan groaned, turning to Y/N with an apologetic look. “I’m sorry.”

She laughed, the awkward tension melting away. “Don’t be. He’s our problem now.”

Wade scoffed, pretending to be offended. “Excuse me? I’m the reason you two are even happening. A little gratitude would be nice.”

Logan sighed, shaking his head as he grabbed Y/N’s hand. “Come on. Let’s go before he says something even worse.”

As they walked toward her room, Wade called out one last time. “But for real, I’m expecting a toast at the wedding! ‘To Wade, the unsung hero of this love story!’ That has a nice ring to it, doesn’t it? I know I love it.”

Y/N laughed as Logan muttered something under his breath, his hand squeezing hers. They disappeared into her room, leaving Wade to his dramatics. But despite his antics, the warmth in his smile lingered long after they were gone.

For the first time in a long time, everything felt right.

For once in my life, I have someone who needs me, someone I've needed so long.

Oh, someone warm like you, would make my dream come true.

XXX

A/N: because I do not want to say goodbye to this story (yet) let me tell you first and foremost, there will be an epilogue!!!!!! but officially, yes, this is the last part *insert a pic of me crying* I need to thank you guys so so much for all the love and support for this fic!!! I hadn't written a long fic like that in years and you all made me so happy when I saw you liked it!!! if you have any specific request/ideas for "spin-offs"/one shots from this story I'll gladly take them!! I love you guys so so much, and I hope you liked this final chapter! I had a really difficult time writing it but I love it that way! anyway, see you soon for more stories🫶

#AND SO IT ENDS #LOVEEEEEE!!!!;#AAAAAAAAAAA

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tinybubblesyay · 13 hours ago

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either way, i'm going your way

logan howlett x reader (worst!logan x reader)

word count: 4k

summary: logan doesn't remember the last time he celebrated valentine's day, and he doesn't have any reason to believe that this year will be any different. then he runs into you, wade's neighbor, who happens to love the holiday despite not having anyone to celebrate it with.

warnings/tags: smut, 18+ only mdni, sex in a public place kind of, oral (m&f receiving), unprotected p in v, logan's pov, neighbor!reader, reader is afab, reader is described as being shorter than logan, no use of y/n, hints of grumpy x sunshine

this is my entry for @yxtkiwiyxt & @lubdubology valentine's writing challenge! thank you both for hosting this, i can't wait to read the other submissions ❤️

logan howlett masterlist

Logan has been alive for two centuries worth of Valentine's Days. He can count on one hand how many he’s actually celebrated, and he can't recall the last time he had a reason to even acknowledge the day.

To him, Valentine’s Days have always been just another Tuesday, or Thursday, or whatever day it falls on that year.

He hates how commercialized the holiday is thanks to the multi-billion dollar corporations that fill department stores with trinkets the second that Christmas is over. He hates all of the pressure and unrealistic expectations that come with planning the perfect date. And as much as he hates to admit it to himself, he hates that it's a stark reminder that he's just as alone in this universe as he had been in the last one.

Technically he can't say that he's entirely alone. Romantically? Yes. Sexually? Yes.

Physically, however, he’s lodged between a blind eighty-year-old cocaine addict and a ten pound living tumor - the latter of whom keeps trying to French kiss him.

Wade might be out with Vanessa for Valentine’s Day, but for Logan, this is any other Friday night – watching Who Wants To Be A Millionaire reruns with Al and Mary Puppins.

Something about his current predicament makes him feel even more alone than if he actually were alone. Maybe it’s how unfamiliar and foreign this universe still feels in so many ways – he’s been here for some months now, but there’s some things that remind him that he still has a ways to go in terms of adjustment.

He'd never admit it aloud, but just maybe the fact that he can’t keep his thoughts from straying to a specific next door neighbor certainly doesn’t help. He hates to use the word crush at his grown age, but he can’t really think of a better word for it. If it’s not a crush, why else would he be wondering what your plans are for this evening? Why else would he feel the unmistakable, undeniable twinge of jealousy when he thinks of the mere possibility of you spending your night in the arms of someone other than him?

He has no one to blame but himself, and he knows it. He had the perfect opportunity to ask you out just last week, and he didn’t take it. The two of you were both taking the elevator up to your neighboring apartments when it broke down for the third fucking time in the last month. It took nearly an hour for maintenance to get it back up and running, and he couldn’t find the nerve to simply ask if you have any plans at any point during the time you were trapped in the fifteen square feet of space together. Instead, he awkwardly rambled about he had walked in on Wade and Vanessa in a compromising position the day before.

He cringes at the memory, tossing back another swig of whiskey when he realizes the bottle is empty. He sighs, earning a side-eye from Mary Puppins.

If this is how he’s going to be spending his evening, he should at least be a little intoxicated.

“I’m going to the liquor store,” Logan announces as he transfers Mary Puppins from his lap to Al’s before standing up from his position on the couch for the first time in hours. “You need anything?”

“Pick me up a couple of scratchers and a pack of Newports.”

Just her usual requests, then.

Logan throws on his leather jacket, dreading the cold and dreary February night but willing to face it for a bottle of bourbon and some cigars. He’s been out of those since yesterday, so a trip to the nearest convenience store is much needed, anyway.

The door to the apartment complex’s singular outdated elevator is sliding to a close when Logan hears a familiar, feminine voice call out.

“Hold up!”

Logan immediately pushes the hold button, freezing the door in place. A second later, you appear in the doorframe. You’re slightly out of breath, with a relieved expression on your face.

“Thanks,” you greet him as you lean against the wall of the elevator, smoothing your hands over the fabric of your plaid skirt. “I’m running late to my dinner reservations and really didn’t wanna have to take the stairs in these.” You glance down at the heels of the uncomfortable looking thigh high boots that you’re wearing.

Uncomfortable looking and hot, he thinks, before your words sink in. Dinner reservations – of course you’d have plans tonight. He feels a slight pang of disappointment (and jealousy, if he’s being honest with himself) at the realization, but he isn’t surprised.

“Well, let’s cross our fingers that we don’t get stuck in here again and that you make it to your date on time,” Logan says with a forced laugh and smile as he pushes the button once again to close the door, followed by the button that says lobby.

“Oh, no. Not a date,” you correct him quickly with a bashful grin. “Well, maybe. Is it considered a date if I’m dining by myself?”

“You’re going to dinner by yourself?” Logan asks, unable to hide the surprise in his tone. “Looking like that?”

Your eyes widen in shock. “What’s wrong with how I look? And what’s wrong with going to dinner by myself?”

“Nothing!” Logan begins to backtrack when he realizes how his questions came across. “You - you look great. I'm just a little surprised. Would’ve assumed that you had a date tonight is all—”

He trails off when he realizes that you’re pursing your lips together in an obvious attempt to hide a smirk. The mischievous glimmer in your eyes gives you away.

“I’m just fucking with you, Logan,” you snort with a playful slap to his arm. “I know it’s a little unconventional to take yourself out on Valentine’s Day. But I’ve always loved the holiday despite being painfully single, so I thought why not? Better than sitting at home and sulking all night.”

The corners of his lips threaten to twitch upwards at the words painfully single as he contemplates the rest of your response. He can’t help but admire your way of thinking. He was content with staying holed up inside the apartment and drinking himself into a stupor, but he can’t deny that your outlook on the holiday is far less depressing and boring than his.

“What about you?” you ask as the elevator comes to a stop with a melodic ding. You exit, looking back at him over your shoulder. “Are you on your way to your Valentine’s plans?”

He chuckles at the question. For a second, he considers lying to you. He considers telling you that yes, he is on his way to pick up his date right now, just so he doesn’t have to tell you the truth – that he’s on his way to buy bourbon, cancer sticks, and lottery tickets for him and his elderly roommate. But with his luck, you’d run into Wade tomorrow and he’d open his big fucking mouth about how Logan actually spent his night, and the thought of that is even more mortifying than telling you the truth to your face.

“Not unless you count making a liquor run as Valentine’s plans,” he sighs, averting your gaze as he opens the door to the apartment building for you. “The only thing I plan on doing tonight is listen to Althea scream at her game shows.”

You come to a stop outside of the apartment building, wrapping your coat tightly around your chest to fight off the chilly night air. There’s a peculiar look on your face that Logan can’t quite read – something between amusement and hesitation.

“You could have worse dates, I suppose,” you laugh.

“That’s true,” Logan agrees. “At least I have Vanessa to thank for a Wade free evening. But I’ll let you go, don’t wanna make you late for your—”

“Do you like Korean barbecue?”

Logan freezes, taken aback by the question. He snaps his mouth shut, realizing he’s staring at you like a deer in the headlights.

“Korean barbecue?” He asks lamely. “Don’t think I’ve ever tried it.”

He’s had barbecue. He’s had Korean food.. maybe? He’s been alive a really long time, he’s sure he’s had Korean food at some point in the last two hundred years.

But he can’t say that he’s had Korean barbecue.

A nervous looking grin appears on your face, and you cross your arms over your chest before taking a small step towards him.

“Are you hungry?”

••••••

All it takes is one look at the table that the host takes the two of you to for Logan to realize that he has indeed never had Korean barbecue.

You don’t appear to be the slightest bit confused so he assumes that the circular grill built into the middle of the table is normal, though he’s never seen anything quite like it in a restaurant before.

You giggle when you notice the curious expression on his face.

“It’s kinda like hibachi,” you begin. “Except instead of someone cooking it in front of you, you cook it yourself.”

Logan takes in the array of various meats on the tray to the left of him. You pick up a piece of what appears to be some kind of beef with a pair of tongs, and place it on the grill. It sizzles, and he watches as you add a few more pieces of meat onto the hot surface.

“Isn’t that kinda the whole point of going to a restaurant? To have someone else cook the food for you?” He asks the question as gently as he can, not wanting to hurt your feelings. He’s just happy to be here with you – even if he doesn’t fully understand the appeal of going to a restaurant to pay to cook your own food.

“It’s about the experience,” you explain with a shrug. “To be fair, when most people come to a Korean barbecue restaurant, they usually come with a group of people – hence the large amount of meat.” You nod towards the arrangement of the meats that have yet to be cooked.

“It’s a social thing. But all of my friends had plans with their significant others tonight, so…”

You trail off as the server places another tray on the table – this one covered in various colorful side dishes that he’s definitely never had before. He wouldn’t exactly describe himself as adventurous when it comes to trying new foods – for the most part, he lives off of ham and cheese sandwiches and frozen TV dinners. But he tried shawarma when he’d first arrived in this universe and ended up loving it, so he’s determined to try a bite of everything on this table.

“Sounds like it’s a good thing that you ran into me, then,” Logan murmurs when the server walks off.

You take your eyes off of the pieces of meat that you’re paying careful attention not to overcook, looking up at him through your lashes with a soft smile.

“I'd say that you’re right about that.”

••••••

Despite the breeze and the chilly night air, Logan feels perfectly toasty on the walk back to the apartment thanks to your tight hold on his arm and the wine that you had insisted that he try.

He'd learned a lot tonight – a lot about you; your hobbies and your interests. He’d learned all about Korean barbecue, and that he likes bulgogi and buldak.

Most importantly, he'd learned that he was stupid for ever being nervous about asking you out.

He feels at ease with you. He already knew he enjoys your company from all of the times that you’ve joined Wade’s movie nights and get-togethers – but he’d never been alone with you (with the exception of getting stuck in the elevator with you last week). Wade, Vanessa, Al, Peter, Yukio, and countless others always seemed to be present, making it near impossible for him to get to know you in the way that he’s wanted to since he first met you.

But now, with your arm intertwined with his and the scent of your perfume hitting him each time there is a gust of air, he knows that he is going to do all that he can to keep having moments like this with you.

“I have a question,” you state as the two of you turn onto the street where your apartment building is. Logan glances down at you in curiosity, but you’re not looking at him – you’re looking ahead, your teeth biting into your lower lip.

“What’s that?” Logan murmurs.

You hesitate, your eyes flickering up to him before quickly looking away again. “Did you actually like the kimchi?”

Logan can’t help but cackle, taken off guard by the question.

“That’s your question?” he laughs, thinking back to the spicy and tangy flavor of the fermented vegetables.

You come to a stop next to a streetlight outside of your apartment building, pulling your arm away from his to stand just inches in front of him.

“No,” you admit with a smirk. “Though I am curious about that, too.” You take a step closer to him, your chest ever so slightly brushing against his. He feels his breath catch in his throat at the way that your eyes twinkle in the glow of the streetlight.

“Last week, when we got stuck in the elevator together,” you begin in a low voice. He swears that your eyes flicker to his lips for a split second before meeting his gaze once more. “Were you nervous?”

He thinks back to his nervous rambling in the elevator, to how you looked so pretty that he found it difficult to hold direct eye contact with you, and to how it felt like half of his brain was screaming at him to ask you out and the other half was screaming at him to not make himself look like an idiot.

Yeah, nervous is accurate.

“That obvious, huh?” he sighs.

“Just a little,” you shrug. “But don’t worry. I was too.”

“Is that right?” Logan asks, trying not to give away just how happy the confession makes him. “And what about now?”

He doesn’t have to ask – he's standing close enough to you that your increased heartrate is easy for him to detect.

“Something like that,” you whisper, and before he fully process what’s happening, you’re raising up on your tippy toes to capture his lips in yours.

The taste of the fruity wine from dinner still lingers on your lips. He places his hands on the small of your back, pulling you flush against him. Your hands cradle his face, pulling him down closer to you. The warmth of you is a balm against the brisk night air, making him feel like he can’t get close enough to you. You don’t pull away until you’re breathless, looking up at him with dilated pupils in the florescent street lighting.

“Do you wanna come up to my place?” you breathe, nodding your head in the direction of the apartment building.

“What? You don’t wanna come to mine and hang out with Al?” he teases, nudging you in the direction of the building’s entrance.

“As tempting as that sounds…” You trail off, following his lead.

The second that the elevator door comes to a close, his hands are back on you. He backs you up against the wall, his hands gripping your hips as you spread your legs enough to allow one of his thick thighs in between them. This time, he’s the one who kisses you, wasting no time in slipping his tongue between your lips. You whimper into the kiss, your tongue fighting his for dominance.

It isn’t until he pulls away for air and opens his eyes that he realizes the elevator has come to a stop. It couldn’t have been moving for more than ten seconds –

“Fuckin’ hell,” you groan. “Not this again.”

Logan looks at the panel of buttons to his left. Sure enough, the number reads that you’re still a floor beneath your apartments. He beats his fist against the elevator wall, as if that’s actually going to help the matter.

Still pinned between his body and the wall, you pull your cell phone out from an interior pocket of your coat. You quickly find the number for building maintenance in your call history, but it just rings, and rings, and rings.

“I could probably pry the doors open,” Logan muses as he begins to pull away from you. He thinks back to how it took maintenance nearly an hour to get the elevator back up and running last week, and knows that he wouldn’t have the patience for that now. The thought of having to wait even a fraction of that long to get back to your apartment…

“Let’s not do anything that could potentially put the elevator out of commission permanently, yeah?” You pull him back to you, grabbing his face in your hand and making him look at you. “I think that we'll be just fine right here for a while.”

There’s a mischievous look on your face. Before he can question you, you’re sliding down the wall until you reach the floor. You reach for his belt with your hands, making quick work of undoing the buckle and then the button to his jeans.

Oh.

All Logan can do is stare down at you in wonderment as you tug his zipper down.

“This okay with you?” you ask, but the look on your face says that you already know the answer.

He nods, his mouth suddenly feeling too dry to speak. He helps you shimmy his boxers and jeans down enough for his cock to spring free. He glances around the elevator, double checking that there aren’t any security cameras. Considering this elevator is ancient and doesn’t even function half the time, he isn’t surprised to see that there aren’t any.

You take the base of him in your hand, languidly massaging the length as you tease his slit with your tongue. You lap up the beads of pre-cum before easing him past your lips.

The sight of you on your knees for him is enough to have him twitching in your mouth. Add in how your soft lips and tongue feel working his length, and he knows he won’t last long like this.

You bob your head around him, gagging when his head juts against the back of your throat. You pull off of him, leaving a thick rope of saliva that trails from his cock to your mouth.

He doesn’t think he’s ever seen anything prettier. He could spend hours looking at you like this.

But this isn’t how he wants to finish – in your mouth, before he’s even had a chance to make you feel good. So as much as it nearly kills him to do it, he pulls himself away from your sweet lips and yanks you back up by the tops of your arms. There’s the slightest hint of disappointment on your face, but it quickly disappears when he pushes your coat off of your shoulders and down your arms. It falls to floor, leaving you in still too many articles of clothing for Logan’s liking.

Later, he tells himself. He’ll get you naked later, in the privacy of your apartment, where there’s no risk of the elevator doors sliding open at any given moment.

For now, he settles for pushing the restrictive fabric of your skirt upwards, bunching it around your waist. He sinks to the ground in front of you, splaying his palms on your inner thighs and spreading your legs open for him. He rubs the pad of his thumb over the soft material of your panties, right over your clit. He feels shudder at the sensation, and notices the goosebumps that appear on the skin of your thighs.

He hooks his index finger through the cotton fabric, pulling it to the side. He looks up to see if there’s any kind of hesitation on your face, but you quickly pull him to your center by the back of his head, erasing any doubt. He chuckles lowly, and flattens his tongue over your slit.

Your cunt tastes as sweet as the fruity wine from the restaurant did on your tongue. He eats you like he wants to get drunk off of you, alternating between soft licks through your folds and fervent kisses to your swollen bud.

He feels your legs quiver around the sides of his head. He supports you from below, letting you go all but limp above him. He glances up at you, your head thrown back in pleasure and your chest heaving with ragged breaths.

His name slips through your lips, your voice strained with desperation. He loves the sound of it, and wants more than anything to hear you keep saying it. He snakes one of his hands between your thighs, and teases your hole with the tip 9t his finger. You involuntarily sink down, nudging the tip of it past your entrance.

He groans against your clit at how fucking tight you feel around his finger. God, he can’t wait to be inside you. He pumps the digit, your walls already clenching around him.

“Logan,” you moan from above him. “I’m gonna—”

“I know,” he hums against your clit. “Let go. I got you.”

Your climax washes over you with a sharp cry of his name and Logan mentally prays that the elevator walls aren’t as thin as the apartment walls.

When you go still above him, he reluctantly takes his mouth off of you and stands up. His jeans and boxers are still bunched just above his knees, his erection painfully hard and his balls full. He wipes the excess of your slick from his mouth with the back of his hand, and then begins to stroke his own length in his fist.

“Do you.. wanna wait until we get back to your..?”

“God, no,” you exhale, and pull him to you by grabbing his flannel in your fists.

His lips crash against yours as he nestles himself in between your legs, teasing your slit with the head of his cock. He coats it in your juices and eases into you slowly. You groan into his mouth and he has to try not to cum on the spot.

You’re tight, and warm, and your walls flutter around him just right. He hikes one of your thighs over his hip, deepening the angle before he pulls almost all the way out. He rocks back into you, working up to a steady pace.

The small, confined space is filled with the sound of your body meeting his and the sweet noises you make that are music to his ears. You grip around him like a velvet vice and he knows that he isn't going to last long.

“Gonna cum, honey,” he warns in a grunt next to your ear. “Ya feel too fuckin’ good.”

He feels your walls pulse around him at his words and he can tell that you're just as close as he is. A few more deep thrusts that hit your cervix just right and he’s spilling into you as you cum around him.

When he’s empty, his movements cease but he doesn’t pull out. He nuzzles his face against your throat, pressing kisses to the soft but sweat-slicked skin.

“Happy Valentine’s Day to us,” you murmur in a borderline delirious voice. He laughs, pulling back just enough to press his lips to yours.

“Mind if I still come back to your place? I know we just…” He trails off, glancing down at where he’s still tucked inside you. “But I just realized I forgot to pick up cigarettes for Al and she isn’t gonna be too happy with me.”

You roll your eyes, and playfully push him away from you so that you can tug your skirt back into place.

“I think I can find a way to be okay with that,” you smirk. “If we ever get out of this fuckin’ elevator.”

not my favorite thing i've ever written by any means, i've been feeling really unmotivated to write and have felt kinda burnt out, but i still wanted to get this out before valentine's day bc if i didn't then i never would have finished it at all, lol. so i'm sorry it's short 😭 hope you still enjoyed

reblogs/comments are always appreciated, thanks for reading!

#may not be your favorite but it is mine!#SO CUTE!!#nervous lo my beloved

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