summary: you spend hours picking the perfect photos to post, while logan insists he doesn't understand instagram. but after becoming your unofficial photographer and photo critic, you learn that his favorite picture of you isn't one you'd ever uploadâitâs one he never stopped looking at.
pairings: john logan x reader
RIN'S NOTE: I was just taking a selfie of myself 2 days ago likeee idk I am just a bit confident that day then before I posted it on my insta this just pops out in my mind and go to my laptop to write it, hehe.
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You learned a lot from dating John Logan.
Among them were John Logan's ability to score goals under duress, pass college tests that he ought to have studied for sooner, and still manage to be one of the most endearing individuals you've ever encountered.
Another was that he had absolutely no respect for Instagram.
At least, that's what he claimed.
"Why do you need twenty-seven photos?" Logan asked. You looked up from your phone in disbelief.
"Twenty-seven isn't even that many."
Logan glanced down at the screen.
Then at you.
Then back at the screen.
"They're the same picture."
"They're not."
"They absolutely are."
You gasped dramatically. Across the couch, Garrett didn't even look up from his game. "Don't get involved, Logan. You're already losing."
"I'm not losing."
"You are," Garrett said. "Trust me."
You immediately held your phone closer to Logan's face.
"Look."
"I am looking, baby."
"No, actually look."
Logan sighed. The two photos looked nearly identical. Same pose. Same smile. Same coffee cup.
But because he'd been dating you long enough, he knew better than to say that.
So he studied them. Seriously. For you.
Like he was reviewing game footage. Your eyes narrowed suspiciously.
"Well?"
"The second one."
You blinked. "Why?"
Logan shrugged.
"Better lighting."
You stared. Then slowly pointed at him.
"See? You get it."
"No, I don't."
"You do."
"I don't."
"You literally noticed the lighting."
Garrett finally looked over.
"Oh, he's gone."
"What does that mean?" Logan asked.
"It means you've become an Instagram boyfriend."
The horrified look on Logan's face made you laugh.
The problem was that it kept happening.
Every day. Everywhere.
At first, Logan only took your pictures because you asked. Then somehow it became routine.
Walking downtown?
"Babe, picture."
At a cafĂŠ?
"Logan, picture."
Pretty sunset?
"Baby."
And every single time he complained. While still taking the photo.
"Move a little to the left."
You paused.
"What?"
"The light."
You stared. Slowly. Carefully.
"Excuse me?"
Logan immediately realized his mistake.
Across the table, Hannah burst out laughing.
"Oh my god." Dean pointed dramatically.
"He said it."
"Said what?"
"'The light.'"
Garrett looked genuinely emotional.
"They grow up so fast."
"Shut up."
You were already grinning. Because Logan had started noticing things.
The background. The angles. The lighting.
And worst of all? He was good at it. Really good. Sometimes he'd hand your phone back and you'd stare at the pictures in shock.
"Logan."
"What?"
"These are amazing."
He looked confused.
"You just stood there, baby"
"Exactly."
A few weeks later, the situation became even worse. You were sitting on the couch with your head laying on Logan's shoulder while you scroll through your camera roll.
Trying to decide what to post. Again.
"Question."
Logan sighed.
"There it is."
"Which picture?"
You held your phone up. Three selfies. Logan looked. For about two seconds.
"The third one."
Your eyes widened. "That fast?"
"The third one."
"Why?"
"The smile's more real."
Silence. You stared. Logan stared back.
Then slowly returned to his phone. Like he hadn't just completely ruined your day.
Because what did he mean, the smile was more real?
And why he was right?
The thing was, Logan noticed things. Small things. The things nobody else paid attention to.
When you were genuinely happy versus when you were forcing a smile.
When you liked an outfit but were pretending you didn't care.
When you felt confident.
When you didn't.
Which was why he noticed immediately when you stopped asking about pictures.
At first, he didn't think much of it. Then three days passed.
No Instagram questions.
No photo requests.
Nothing.
You were sprawled across Logan's bed while he sat at his desk pretending to study.
Pretending being the important word.
Because every few minutes, his eyes drifted away from his textbook and toward you. At the moment, you were scrolling through your camera roll with a deep frown.
Delete. Delete. Delete.
Another photo disappeared. Then another. Then another.
Logan watched for a minute before finally speaking.
"What happened?"
You didn't look up.
"Nothing."
"That's not true."
You sighed dramatically. "I look weird." Logan blinked.
"What?"
"In the pictures."
He stared at you for a second. Then at your phone. Then back at you.
"You asked me to take those."
"I know."
"And now they're bad?"
"I didn't say bad."
"You literally just deleted twenty of them."
You groaned and flopped backward onto his bed. "Forget it."
Logan immediately knew not to forget it.
Because he knew you. And sometimes, when you got frustrated with yourself, you started seeing flaws nobody else could see.
So he held out his hand.
"Give me the phone." Suspiciously, you handed it over. Logan scrolled.
One picture.
Then another.
Then another.
A few more.
His brows furrowed slightly. You watched him nervously. "Well?"
"I'm confused."
That wasn't the answer you expected.
"What do you mean?"
Logan looked up. "I'm trying to figure out which part is supposed to look weird." Your face immediately heated.
"Logan."
"I'm serious."
"You have boyfriend bias."
"Obviously."
You buried your face in a pillow. Immediately. Because somehow that answer was worse. Logan laughed quietly.
The mattress shifted slightly as he moved closer. Then he gently tugged the pillow down just enough so he could see your eyes.
"There you are."
You glared at him. Weakly. Logan remained completely unbothered.
"You keep looking at the pictures trying to find flaws."
You rolled your eyes.
"And?"
His expression softened.
"And I'm looking at you."
Your heart did something incredibly annoying. Logan seemed completely unaware of the damage he'd just caused.
Typical.
For a second, neither of you spoke. Then he handed the phone back. You glanced down at the screen.
The same pictures. The same lighting. The same smile.
Nothing had changed. Yet somehow they didn't seem quite as bad anymore.
"You know," Logan said casually, leaning back against the headboard.
"Hm?"
"My favorite pictures of you aren't even on Instagram."
You frowned.
"What does that mean?"
"Nothing."
Your eyes narrowed immediately.
"Logan."
"Nothing."
"Logan."
He smiled. The kind of smile that told you he absolutely knew something you didn't.
"What pictures?"
"Not telling you."
"Why?"
"Because you'll make fun of me." Your jaw dropped.
"That's suspicious."
"It should be."
"Logan!"
He laughed. Actually laughed. Then reached over and stole your phone before you could continue interrogating him.
The conversation ended there. Or at least, you thought it did.
Because later that night, when Logan's phone buzzed from the nightstand and he asked you to grab it for him.
The screen lit up. And suddenly, everything made sense.
For a second, you just stared.
Then stared some more. Because there you were. Curled up asleep on Logan's couch.
One of his hoodies swallowed you whole, sleeves covering your hands. Your hair was a complete mess, your cheek squished against a cushion, and one leg was hanging off the edge like you'd fallen asleep halfway through moving.
It wasn't a flattering picture. It wasn't posed. You weren't even looking at the camera. You had no idea it existed.
And yet, it was his lock screen.
Your heart immediately did something stupid.
"Logan."
The second he heard your voice, he knew.
"Oh no."
You slowly turned his phone around.
"What is this?"
Logan dropped his head back against the headboard. Like a man accepting his fate.
"It's a picture."
"Of me."
"Yeah."
"Sleeping."
"You were asleep at the time." You laughed despite yourself.
"That's not the point."
"Seems relevant."
"Logan."
He peeked at you from beneath one eye.
You were smiling. That made this significantly worse. "When did you even take this?" He groaned. "I don't know."
"Logan."
"A few months ago."
"A few months?"
"It sounds worse when you say it like that."
You stared at him. Then back at the phone. Then back at him. Out of every picture he'd ever taken.
The cafĂŠ photos.
The sunset pictures.
The ones you'd actually posted.
The dozens sitting in his camera roll.
He'd picked this one.
This sleepy, messy, completely unplanned picture.
"Why this one?" you asked quietly.
Logan looked genuinely confused by the question. Like the answer should've been obvious.
His gaze flickered toward the screen. Then back to you. And his shoulders lifted in a small shrug.
"Because it's my favorite."
Your chest tightened instantly.
"Why?"
"You want the honest answer?"
"Obviously."
For a second, Logan simply looked at you softly. The same way he always did when he forgot to hide how much he loved you.
Then he reached over and brushed a loose strand of hair behind your ear.
"You looked happy, baby."
The room suddenly felt very quiet. You glanced down at the picture again.
Messy hair. Oversized hoodie. Half hanging off the couch.
Nothing about it was Instagram-worthy. Nothing about it was perfect.
But looking at it now, you remembered that day. Movie playing in the background. Logan studying nearby.
Falling asleep because you felt safe enough to. And somehow, that made your eyes sting a little.
"You know," you said softly, "for someone who claims to hate Instagram, you're kind of sentimental." Logan immediately looked offended.
"I am not sentimental."
"You have a secret collection of candid photos of me, don't you?"
Silence.
Your jaw dropped. "Oh my god."
"It sounds worse than it is."
"How many are there!?"
Logan refused to answer. Which was an answer. You gasped dramatically.
"John Logan."
He was laughing now. Actually laughing. The kind that crinkled the corners of his eyes.
And suddenly you couldn't stop smiling either. Because after all those months of asking.
Which picture should I post?
Which one looks better?
Which song should I use?
You finally realized something. His favorite picture wasn't on your Instagram. It wasn't even on your phone.
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John Logan never intended to be so consumed by a game off of the ice, but when he finally catches sight of your appetite for a win he knows there is nothing sweeter than his own victory - knowing the name of the girl who has him wrapped around her finger.
CONTAINS: afab!reader & fem!reader (mention of 'girl', fem clothing) . suggestive & eventual nsfw content . situationship . practically love at first sight . no use of y/n . swearing and mature language . mentions of physical contact mid game . team rivals . drinking alcohol . intimate when drinking (both characters are mainly sober) . fingering . p in v . cocky logan mmm! bullshit references of hockey (ty 'hockey for dummies')
NOTES: heyy guys!! long time no see ŕťę°ŕžŕ˝˛ăŁË -ăęąŕžŕ˝˛ŕ§§ off campus has honestly taken me out of such a writing slump, and so what better way than to show my love for john logan than to write a cheeky fic where i can just obsess over how cool&cute he is. self indulgent? maybe! is anyone complaining? prolly not !! hopefully i'm not too rusty and you enjoy âĄâĄ
( word count: 5.4k words ) MASTERLIST . DAILY CLICKS á° .á
JOHN LOGAN LOST TRACK OF WHEN IT STARTED, but he knew it hadn't stopped even after you stepped off of the rink. It was your game against Briar Falcons, the female team for Briar University and they were proving to be a worthy match. The air was thickened with vigorous tensions and a palpable appetite for the win, and the ice floor was carved with fresh splinters from the bodies that moved strategically against once another; as though merely needles through thread.
By the second period you were unsure if you were simply aching or if either side had given up on sportsmanship and were playing with much more vicious grit. Preferring a rigorous spectacle despite it ending in some sort of punishment from the referee. You moved with seamless rhythm after the colliding of sticks, the puck remained in your grasp as you weaved through the neutral zone and managed to dodge some of the defenders.
The pain had reached you long after the initial reaction.
One of Briar's Falcon's shoved with less sensibility and more fury into the glass as the puck left your control. Attempting to swerve away from the previous collision, one of your teammates managed to pass to you. Guiding the puck with your heel and blade, you managed to shoot with the last amount of energy you had in the second period.
Your teammates were colliding into you before you managed to watch the lights flash red. The feeling of your side throbbing with pain, and the distant ambience of the crowd's eruption of pride dispersed into a mild murmur as you blocked out the atmosphere of sound. Once you became absorbed by the game, there was no way of pulling you out.
The score board hung the names of Briar and Harvard, measly flickering the numbers 3-4 as it too attempted to keep up with the game. The competition proving to have such tension that each time you looked back at the scores you were losing track of who was in the lead - despite your recent addition to the tally.
Logan wasn't failing to keep track.
He knew that with every score for Harvard, the puck was bruised with the strength of your shots. Logan couldn't determine when he first had his eyes on you, but ever since they did he had no chance of stopping. His perception of you was analytical at first, noting the quickness to your movements, and the conscious decisions of where to exert your force and where to maintain energy throughout the game. Slowly, he found himself simply in awe of your capabilities, unable to refrain from observing how you darted from each zone with such ease. The aggressive undertones of your play, the recklessness of your shoves, the gracefulness of your skating. Almost as though it was bubbling down into some feeling of pride.
"Fuck she's pretty good" Dean murmured, a hand brushed upon his bottom lip as he held himself forward in his chair, eagerly noting the nature of your game to Garrett seated to the right of him. "I mean Briar's definitely got one to beat, we're practically rooting for the wrong team here G".
But Logan wasn't rooting for Briar, unbeknownst to him, he was rooting for you.
It was then that Dean turned to face Logan, noticing his inability to conjure his usual quick response in return. "You good Logan?" he queried, he moved his face to reside beside Logan's, a knowing smile enveloping his appearance.
"Yeah, nah I'm fine", his eyes remained transfixed. He spoke up quickly, his arms resting upon his spread legs as his hands were clasped. "Have you guys seen her play before?"
"I mean maybe, but I don't remember these games being that vicious", Tucker responded as he raked his hand through his hair, his eyes meeting with Dean's to note if he was sharing that same knowing look.
"She's fucking incredible".
He watched you with the subconscious hope that somewhere along the changing lines, in the exposure of the arena lights, that somehow you would see how much he was consumed by you even in the far back seating.
The boys had found it humorous that you and your team managed to take up such a fraction of much of their time. Initially intending to sit in on one period of tonight's game as a tasteful distraction from their own upcoming one against the men's team the day after. Instead they became drilled to their seats as wholly absorbed by the match. It was Tucker that had suggested it as a mere possibility under his breath, and Dean found no better idea than to allow Logan to have some time away from his own head. Rather than being caged behind his own presumptions of how Briar's winning strike may suddenly falter - especially as his position as captain - Logan felt now as though he was a onlooker to your own cage, housing a predator who knew how to toy with its prey.
But now, you looked less animalistic to Logan when you skated to the sides of the rink, amused with something one of your teammates had said that had allowed a slight smile to kiss your features. Your hair was stuck to the rest of your skin, adrenaline drenching your face in a thrilling high. Your eyes were lit with a subtle fire that he never wished to put out, only wanting to find home in the flame. He had only known of you for a total of about 45 minutes - it was pathetic.
You were quick to resume position once the 15 minutes of rest haltered, eager to finish the game with a potential win. Your captain had given you a firm pat on the back before you faced the Falcon's centre forward, the playful snarl on her face became more noticeable as the game proceeded. You cautiously watched the puck in referee's hand, a stillness that would have you ambushing the moment it dropped into play.
You held your breath as the puck dropped, quick to have it under your hold. You passed to your teammate once a spot reopened from the opposition's right defensemen, quick to move yourself away from the potential pileup. Your teammate passed onto the team's left forward, the contact of sticks ringing in your ears as the puck scampered to each zone of the rink. You were trying to keep up with the amount of time you had left in the third period, of ' 4 more minutes ', more than you were of your position within the space.
Your ribs found home again on the walls of the rink yet again, shoved mercilessly into the side as you knew your skin would blossom into a gruesome bruise in the upcoming days. Briar's centre forward surely had it out for you in the game, her snarl now contorting to some form of fury. You could hear a muffle of dissatisfaction from your team resting on the benches, and the onlookers alike, slamming her back into the wall yourself as you resumed to the oncoming game. Logan could appreciate your restlessness.
The defence managed to haul off for majority of the game, your left forward operating with the right forward as if clockwork, both of your teammates managing to assist in a final score. The arena lights imbued in a crimson haze over the rink, simultaneous to the eruption of the crowd. The score board flickered a humble 4 second countdown as your team collided in the middle of the ice. The boys were quick to stand, their hands cupping together in a reckless uproar, chanting out to Harvard despite the blue and red decor that hung on from Tucker's and Dean's jerseys.
"Fuck, the girls put on a good fight but Harvard's got it," Garrett muttered, a hand meeting Logan's shoulder as he leaned closer, an attempt to be made clear amidst the chaos of cheering.
"She's got it" he uttered in returned. His eyes opened in awe and triggered his crooked smile, he didn't even have to say who you were to know which player he was talking about. A smirk captured Garrett's face before he knew how to make sense of what he was seeing.
"I mean you should talk to her, maybe you can mention how well she plays" he teased.
Logan continued to fix his vision of only you, planning how he would talk to you already in his head.
"I don't think she needs me to remind her, she knows it".
The adrenaline was still making home within your system as you were unable to shake the smile that had glossed over you, washing you with a warm essence that cut through the violence of your play. You were one of the last to leave the rink having been a little while since the match had ended - determining whether it was time to finally leave the wash of arena lights and to commemorate with the rest of the team. In the mean time you lazily traced figure 8's in the ice; the same patterns you would scratch softly into the back of your palm before a game.
You hadn't looked up in a while before you heard someone clear their throat.
"Fuck how long have you been staring for?" you jabbed, curiosity poised your reaction as your eyes remained fixed on auburn irises.
They darkened when he scoffed a smirk towards the floor away from the illumination of lights; a crooked smile enabling his eyes to crease with a gentleness. You would be lying if you said the guy standing before you wasn't handsome; noting the few loose curls of his unruly hair that fell to frame his face, an effortlessness that subdued his boyish charm. You noted his broad shoulders that coupled with his height, managing to stand above you despite the additional height of your skates. His hands were nested in the pockets of his leather bomber.
"Long enough to say you're pretty good"
The smile met your eyes before you could be subtle. You could notice him analysing you too, his eyes raking over you as he shyly bit his lip, a smirk forming.
"Hey, aren't you the captain for Briar? I've seen you guys play a few times, I admit you're one to watch", you skated towards the edge of the ice, the gate of the rink sitting as a humble middle ground between you both.
"You think I'm one to watch?" he grinned as his cockiness was diluted with his charm, he extended a hand before you, "Logan".
He addresses you by the name on the back of your jersey, hesitant to be invading your territory despite it being within Briar University's own rink. You grinned in return, you thought it was thoughtful that he had taken notice.
You corrected him with your first name. He repeated it back to you, it sounded like such a sweet sound as it made home in his voice - almost as if he too was reminding himself in fear of forgetting the name of the girl who had his chest tightening for the entire match.
"I'll see you for tomorrow's game?"
"What makes you so certain that I'll be there?"
"I know you will".
For once you appreciated the arrogance of a man, amused by his boldness to assure that you too would be watching him as fervidly amidst a sea of onlookers for his upcoming game, as you are in the proximity you both now.
"In fact. If I win, I want you at the party tomorrow where I might see you, like this, again". Your eyebrows furrowed and yet still the smile hadn't left your face. He continued.
"And if you winâ"
"I did fucking win. I don't know if you've managed to score anything before, but that was a good fucking win", you somehow managed to get closer to him, the front of your body resting upon the gate.
"I know you did," he murmured in a softer tone, his head lowering to be in closer proximity to yours, satisfied he could get right under your skin. "I mean since you won, I guess you'll just have to see if we manage to score something too."
"I'll be shocked"
"You will be," he moved closer, his eyes never leaving yours, "I'll make sure".
He had walked backwards a few steps, with a sly smile linking with the slight wave he gave you, turning away from the rink. Suddenly you were more piqued for the game tomorrow than you were a few moments ago.
The coolness of the rink failed to provide any lasting relief from the flush of heat that you felt upon your entire body. You managed to find a spot to watch that gave you enough access to see the Briar Hawk's entrance into the game, eager to see what sort of expression or nature Logan would emulate within today's match. Eastwood, much alike the Briar Falcon's the day prior were proving to be notable threats to the reign of both of your successes - but now that you were away from the vicious exposure of the rink, you could keep yourself entertained by Logan's request.
The atmosphere was thickened with the crowd's desire to watch a fair fight, you noticed the myriad of onlookers who had round up for the competition, some adorned in the same blue and red colours and university hoodies. From the echos of the audience and the adrenaline that would rampantly kick in a few minutes before the match, you were keen to see Logan's drive more intimately.
The crowd had introduced you to them before you noticed their arrival. The screams cascading down from the top of the seating all the way to the ones closest to the ring, as you watched the ensemble of Briar Hawk's entering. Number 66, whose cocky smile seemed to run deep within his bones, cheered loudly at the sight of the fans, 'Tucker' skating shortly behind as he seemed eager to have the game over and done with, with how assured he was of a win. More had slotted through that you had quickly washed over, watching them slot into their line positions before you finally caught sight of him.
His gaze was lowered, and you admired how he felt wholly consumed by the game before it had even begun. The Eastwood team skated onto the scene, lining themselves up as the referee prepared for the start. 'Graham' had skated towards the centre the rink and you noticed how Logan's eye line had lifted, not to onlookers his competitors but to subtly onlookers who was sitting in on the match.
The puck was in Briar's grasp before Eastwood even had a moment to spare.
The time of the clock followed the pacing of the match as Graham passed to Tucker, nimbly avoiding the aggression of Eastwood's defence as the puck was shortly sent to Logan, finding a short gap against the defence to manage the first score. The crowd erupted just as you did, hands clasping together as a full smile enveloped your expression - so he could score.
You found his ease most amusing, the ability to find himself at full force and no hesitation throughout the match. Darting from either side of the rink, you noticed how more and more he found himself attempting to 'carelessly' funnel through the onlookers - his teammates noticed his unusual hesitation, calling out to him amidst the collision of bodies against the glass. Both your matches in the past few days were pretty gruesome. It wasn't that Logan was falling behind, in fact he was playing much more efficiently than prior, but they wondered what had triggered the change.
It was now the second period and Briar were standing in favour of a 4-2. Garrett's managed the puck in his control, moving swiftly in the neutral zone. His attempt to pass the puck onto Logan fell short when Eastwood's right forward managed to snipe it from him.
"You're good G!" Logan beckoned, quick to follow the forward as Dean managed to retrieve the puck, swiftly landing back in Logan's line of sight.
A loud shove shuddered against the wall, Logan found himself no longer in control of the ice but landing squarely against the edge of the rink. The crowd raged at the contact. Unfortunately acting before he had time to think, Logan's fist came in contact with the cheek of Eastwood's left forward, a slight cut now evident on Logan's lip. As much as violence was nothing to be admired, you did admit it was hot to see how clean the blow was.
Eastwood managed to score whilst Logan's back was turned, the lights imbuing a deep crimson over the arena much like the one that was trickling down Logan's chin. The scoreboard shoved the numbers of 4-3 down Briar's throat as the second period came to a close. The teams returned back for their rest break. Logan's jersey clung to his back as you watched him return back to the wall, holding your breath when he lifted his arm to brush the curls from sticking to his forehead, a gap of his toned torso became expose. He was a sight for sore eyes when he resided back with Dean and Tucker, Logan's eyes were trained on the floor as Dean playfully punched the latter in the arm.
Auburn eyes seemed to remain home in yours.
John Logan had finally spotted you after yet another attempt to frivolously scan through the people, his gaze softened when he had found that you had actually shown. You both shared a knowing smile, unable to determine if it was something sweeter or a playful smirk between the pair. Despite being exhausted from the violent shoves, the cutting through ice, and the strength of the scoring, Logan managed to regain much more of his strength in the final sector of the match.
There were only a few minutes remaining on the clock, Eastwood still being able to possibly manage a tie if they found a way to tear against the tension of Briar. The third sector became a drawn out match of the puck moving between the teams, never finding enough lead to gain either side a score for the period's entirety. Briar was slowly finding a rhythm to their play, working with the quickened pacing of the match. Garrett regained the puck from Eastwood's forward, finding a spot that the left forward and right defence had left exposed for him to send off to Logan. Moving with a sort of effortlessness, you couldn't help but encourage him under your breath.
'Fuck Logan, come on'
Avoiding the final left defence of Eastwood's team, he sent the puck straight into the goal as if a bullseye on a dart board. The crowd erupted in a final applaud, and amongst the moving of bodies and the collision of Briar's team coming to boost Logan's ego for the 5-3 win, he mannered his arms to as if an archer ready to shoot an arrow.
Right directly at you.
You knew what he was thinking. He would get to see you tonight.
He didn't need any pregaming to put him in the mood. The boy's house was a bustling nonsense of hockey players and any one else who was driven by the allure of alcohol and late nights, the scent of musk and liquor carried throughout the house. The music permeated the walls of the house, a makeshift floor inhabiting the bustling bodies that moved in a shameless wonder. Logan found himself at home amidst people, no longer absorbed in fair-weather conversation, or friendly smiles between puck bunnies and mere enthusiasts of the sport, but instead hoping to exchange in more intimate discussion with someone who he was expecting to meet.
His thoughts were disrupted by Dean, making out with Allie on the kitchen counter.
"Logan, isn't she your girl?" he snickered as Allie began giggling beside him, Dean tilting his head to motion towards the living room floor.
Logan let out a slight chuckle before facing himself towards where he was pointing.
He found you from the other side of the room, dancing to the cadence of the music Garrett had rummaged through earlier. There was a natural ease to your movement, much alike how you played on the ice he could see how the music felt home in your bones and percolated grace throughout you. The student bodies around you moving with a similar pulse.
You had felt eyes upon you, moving your gaze to land on the same guy who remained poised in your mind for the past 24 hours. It wasnât a tipsiness, but enough liquid courage to have yourself staring into his eyes before your knees weakened. The remnants of your drink remained in your hand, you took a sip of the beverage as the taste of liquor fell down your throat, analysing how he moved pass the bodies of people and meeting you in the middle.
You thought he would say something in response. Instead he had looked at the can in your hand, pausing before taking it into his grasp and taking a sip; involuntarily kissing where your lips had fallen earlier and not moving his gaze from yours. Your eyes both coaxing the other to see who might give in first to temptation.
He began to move behind you, his calloused hands resting on your hips and swaying with you gently, he leaned down to fit within the crook of your neck.
"Is this where you want me?" he whispered, you could feel the heat of his breath on your neck. You could feel himself getting harder beneath you.
You turned around to face him, his hands still remaining at your side.
"What's wrong Logan, all bark for the game and no actual bite?"
You didn't know if the alcohol was buzzing within your veins or if the adrenaline was having a hard time wearing off but you couldn't help the feeling that subsided in your core. He managed to get even closer now, his smile something that had you weaker in the knees. His eyebrows playfully furrowed before he spoke.
"You want me to show you?"
He smiled against your lips before kissing you, the taste of liquor still sweet upon his tongue. You moved against one another with a tenderness, something even better than you found yourself imagining in the lead up to finding him here. Logan was the craving you were desiring, holding him with both palms by his jaw as he exhibited a low grunt from you.
He was the first to pull away, you watched as a slight smile developed at how eager you both were. His eyes elicited something more sultry, lowering his speech.
"Not here," he beckoned, his hand clasping your own as he lead you through the house, looking back at you each time you entered a new hallway.
You didn't need long before you resumed, already knowing what to do as he used his back to slam his bedroom door behind him, having you pin onto him in a matter of moments. The kiss was able to become everything you both wanted it to be, manically operating against another with a pure frustration you were not upon each other sooner. His hands gripped your hips as you nimbly moved against him, a moan escaping your lips that earned a slight grunt to bellow from his mouth in return.
He titled his head slightly, enabling you to deepen the kiss as your hands gripped the nape of his hair, fingers desirably raking through his curls. You let out a soft whimper under your breath as he cupped your jaw, pulling away slightly to kiss the corners of your mouth and cascade down from your neck and sternum.
You were responsive to the way he would slightly bite on your tender skin, marking what would surely become love bites in the coming days. A roughened look adorned his features as you spoke.
"Fuck, Logan I've been wanting this", you muttered smiling as Logan came back up to kiss you.
"Tell me what you want baby"
"I want you"
He smiled against your mouth, his hair in such a state that his curls fell to frame his features so gently. He looked so fucking hot. He pushed himself off the door and moved you backwards towards his desk, shoving what remained to fall on the floor as he picked you up slightly to sit upon the table. He worked with you to take off your top, allowing him access to litter kisses down your stomach. Adoring the body that you occupied, he eventually lowered himself to be level with your thighs.
His hands gripped softly at your skin, opening your legs slightly he peppered a kiss on your inner thigh, pulling down your skirt as he moved closer. His fingers moved your panties slightly to the side, slowly allowing two fingers to enter the slick of your core. Praying at the altar that was your hips.
"Fuck" you moaned, your eyes watching fervently as your mouth remained agape.
He began to quicken his pace as he watched you, "you like it?"
You nodded quickly as a smirk painted his expression, he began to hook his fingers as lust dripped from each time he spoke, "use your words".
"Fuck, yes Logan I do", your head tilted back in pleasure, his fingers hitting your spot as your arousal deepened with the contact.
"Eyes on me baby, I wanna see you",
You lifted your gaze to fall back onto him, "I need to feel you". A sudden strength spurred from you as you moved forward to take off his shirt, a slight chuckle escaping his lips as he went to help you remove it. Deep crimson bruises permeated his skin as your nails raked over his toned torso. Your fingers moved slightly further south to his jeans, quickly working to undo the buttons, he stopped you quickly.
"Get on the bed"
You moved slowly to the mattress, slowly removing each remaining garment that was on you as Logan's eyes trekked over your curves, you watched as he did the same, his biceps flexing as he pulled his pants down his thick thighs to be in nothing but his boxers. You sat down on the mattress, moving backwards to lie down as Logan crawled towards you, pinning you down and boxing you in as your lips met once more.
You toyed at the fabric of his boxers, his member hard against your palm as you pulled his undergarments down. Your fingers wrapped around him and began to stroke down his length, his lips escaping a shudder as he closed his eyes.
"Baby, hang on. I want to feel you," he coaxed, waiting for your nod to grab a packet next to his bedside table, using his teeth to pull the condom from its back and slide it down onto himself.
His thigh sat between your own before he aligned himself against you, the initial thrust sending you both into a need for desperate carnality. You both elicited whimpers against one another, your legs moving to hook around his torso and deepen his access, as your nails racked down his back. He quickened his pace against you, overwhelmed by a need to pleasure you as much as himself. He groaned against you, the headboard of his bed colliding with the walls as your cries polluted the room with a neediness that he shared.
"You're so fucking perfect" he murmured into the crook of your neck, placing kisses against your shoulder and collarbone.
His eyes were thickened with lust as your pupils shared the same dilated appearance. The sensation of Logan inside of you became overwhelmingly needed, his thrusts moving to a restless rhythm as you began to move against him. The world beyond the walls of his bedroom subsiding into a careless afterthought of the action between you two. The movement of your bodies felt as though you could hardly determine where one ended and the other began, your hands remaining back in Logan's hair as you kissed him once again, your tongues moving together with the same ease of his thrusts.
Logan exhibited a sense of urgency as his breaths staggered, your pants becoming louder as you were both enclosing on your climaxes. The feeling was drawn out as his hips slammed against you, you felt yourself tightening around him. You gripped onto his shoulders as you removed yourself from his lips, your head falling back onto the pillow as you moaned in pure ecstasy - you were getting close now.
You could feel Logan getting closer too, pushing a few final thrusts as he felt you inclosing in on him, a final cry loosening from your lips as you felt yourself covered in a feeling of complete lust. Your eyes were coated in complete ecstasy as he watched you completely undo before him, shuddering himself as his head landed between the crook of your neck.
The two of you breathed onto each other softly, a short laugh bouncing between you from how content you were. The room returned to a quiet ease, the air sweet with musk and the scent of sex that sent you both into a subdued state. Moving to lie beside you, resting an arm behind the small of your back, Logan spoke gently.
"There was something about you, I just couldn't keep my eyes off of you."
You turned subtly towards him, kissing against his jaw in gratitude. You sat up in the bed, taking the blanket to cover up your lap.
"Logan, I should get going."
He looked at you puzzlingly, "stay for the night".
He sat up slowly too beside you, kissing slowly from your shoulder to the crook of your neck. You couldn't help but smile to yourself.
"I have practice tomorrow"
"I'll drop you off in the morning, promise".
Despite not drinking much the night before, you were glad the River Lethe hadn't poisoned your memory of the night before. The memories of needy movement against one another, the rhythm of bodies, kissing the smile off of John Logan.
You hadn't imagined it would escalate to that point. Then again it was a good way to subside the aches you were feeling in your ribs, and where you were shoved mid game a few nights before. The adrenaline however would not falter, either the high was ecstasy or the man lying beside you, a muscular bicep engulfing you within its frame.Â
You found that he too was slowly allowing the dew of the morning to wake him from slumber, a smile kissing his features as he noticed the weight in his arms was still you. Almost fearful that somehow you were a dream that had somehow slipped beneath the cracks. Logan didn't know what drug you were, but he knew he was high on the feeling.
It began to make sense considering how he had responded to your tone.
"Logan, I just want to say. I don't want this to mean anything".
His eyebrows furrowed as he couldn't help but feel a tinge of pain subside in his ribs. More than anything he experienced in last night's match.
"Was it something I did?"
"No, of course not you were, incredible," you giggled beneath your breath. You eventually found the words that were attempting to make sense in your head. "I just think we both can't afford to lose anything. I mean we hardly know each other, we don't need such a distraction."
Logan shook his head beside you, "I mean I'd be willing to do anything to see you again."
You found yourself also willing to do anything to see him again as well, only, you found yourself managing your self control more than the other person who occupied the bed. Your stubbornness would have to get the better of you.
"Give me your phone," you beckoned. Quickly opening his contacts to put in your number and name, "if you ever need anything, or want anything you can text".
He grabbed his phone back and began to type a message. Hearing the notification output softly on your phone you foraged for it, hidden beneath your pile of clothes from the night prior. You opened to find a new message from him.
Unknown Number: when can i see you again?
Unknown Number: please.
You looked back at him, a cocky smile returned back to his face as his pupils remained dilated.
"How much time before practise?"
LILAH'S LETTERS Ë ŕź ŕł â . Ë shoutout to 'hockey for dummies' for helping me understand how to play ! my goodness me was this so fun to write, hopefully i didn't miss any crazy editing spots as i lwk wrote this in a matter of hours, but i do hope you enjoyed it!! god if you hear me please send me john logan i'll take such good care :(<33
Summary: Logan knows better than to fall for his best friend's little sister.
wc: 7.10k not sorry; graham!reader; figure skater!reader; brotherâs best friend; best friend's sister; hockey player x figure skater; tw for this chapter: underage drinking (for americans)
Part I | Part II
The music was already loud before Y/N even made it up the front steps.
It blasted through the walls hard enough to shake the windows while bodies crowded the porch, half the campus apparently determined to celebrate Briarâs hockey team latest win like theyâd personally scored the goals themselves.
Y/N adjusted the strap of her purse on her shoulder and glanced back at the three girls behind her. âThis,â she said dryly, âis exactly how people get diseases.â
Her friend Chloe laughed. âOh my God, stop acting like youâre above this. Your brother literally lives here.â
âExactly,â Y/N replied. âI know what kind of diseases exist inside this house.â
Another girl, she didnât even know beside her nudged Y/Nâs shoulder excitedly. âStill canât believe your brotherâs Garrett Grant.â
âGraham,â Y/N corrected automatically.
âWhatever. The point is your family tree is carrying our social lives.â Y/N rolled her eyes, but she was smiling a little as she pushed the front door open.
Instant chaos. Bodies everywhere. Beer spilled on the floor already. Music too loud. People shouting over beer pong in the dinner table.
Home, basically.
âBaby G!â
Dean appeared first from the living room already drunker than he should. âThere she is,â he announced dramatically. âMy favorite Graham.â
âYou say that every time just to piss Garrett off.â
âBut I mean it every time.â he winked at her.
Dean immediately threw an arm around her shoulders and started pulling her through the crowd while her friends looked one second away from passing out from excitement.
Y/N heard one of them whisper: âOh my God, thatâs Dean Di Laurentis.â
She rolled her eyes. Poor girl.
âThey are all freshman, Dean,â Y/N warned. âBehave.â
âIâm always behaving.â
The kitchen erupted into cheers suddenly as several hockey players stumbled in carrying cases of beer. And right in the middle of them. Logan.
Hoodie sleeves shoved up his forearms, curls messy under a backwards cap, and that lazy, effortless kind of confidence that made it seem like he belonged everywhere he stood. The warm glow from the kitchen lights softened the sharp edges of his face while he laughed at something one of the upperclassmen said, easy and unguarded for once.
Unfortunately for Y/Nâs sanity, Logan always looked unfairly good without even trying.
Y/Nâs friend beside her went completely silent. Then: ââŚholy shit.â one of them said.
Y/N snorted. Because âYeah⌠holy shit.â She thought
That was usually peopleâs reaction to Logan.
He looked up a second later, eyes scanning the room automatically before landing on her. And immediately smiled, walking towards them.
âWell, well,â he called over the music. âGraham brought friends.â His mouth curved into a smirk. He wasnât interested in the girls at all, he just knew the comment would earn him an reaction from her, and for some reason, he never got tired of them. Like a boy annoying his crush on school because he doesnât know how get her to notice him.
Y/N flipped him off instantly. âTheyâre innocent freshmen. Leave them alone.â
âI donât want to be left alone,â one of her friends whispered weakly.
Dean and Logan chuckled. And Y/N rolled her eyes, but her gaze drifted back to Logan anyway. He looked different tonight.
Not physically, though the messy dark hair, flushed cheeks, and post-game confidence weren't helping.
No, it was something else.
Confidence was natural to Logan, but tonight it seemed different somehow. Brighter. Real. Not made up. Like he was carrying the energy of the entire arena with him.
Which, to be fair, he practically was. He'd scored a hat trick. The crowd had spent half the game chanting his name. The team had won because of him.
The worst part? He wore real confidence disgustingly well.
Y/N liked to think she knew better than most that Logan hid behind a smile. Behind the flirting, the confidence, the constant jokes, and sarcasm there was always something he kept carefully out of reach. A part of himself he rarely let anyone see.
But hockey? Hockey was different.
Hockey was the one place where nothing about him was rehearsed. There was no mask and not a carefully crafted version of John Logan. Just him. It was obvious in the way he moved on the ice. In the way his entire face lit up after a goal, a assist. In the pure, almost boyish excitement he could never quite hide after a win.
Whatever insecurities he carried, whatever demons he kept locked behind that easy smile, they disappeared the second he stepped onto the rink.
And maybe that was why Y/N enjoyed watching him play so much. Because for a few hours, she got to see the real version of him. The one who wasn't pretending to be anything at all.
As if sensing her staring, he glanced over.
"Careful, Graham," he said, pointing lazily at her with someone else's beer. "Keep looking at me like that and I'm gonna start thinking you're impressed."
Y/N snorted.
"Itâs easier for me to walk barefoot through this kitchen.â she said sarcastically âYou scored three goals and somehow became even more arrogant."
Logan grinned. Actually grinned. Like he'd been waiting for her to bring it up. And suddenly he looked pleased. Not because of the game. Because she'd noticed.
"So... you saw that?" He said, trying and failing to sound casual. The question slipped out before he could stop it.
Y/N stared at him and blinked.
"Logan."
"What?"
"My brother was playing."
Logan immediately regretted it. His smile melted instantly.
Of course she saw it. Her brother was the fucking captain of the team. Why the hell had he gotten excited in the first place? She watches practically every game. Like she'd been sitting in those stands watching him.
Idiot.
The stupid little spark in his chest fizzled out instantly. There it is, reality. He should've known better.
"Right," he said, taking a sip of his beer. "Yeah sure."
But then Y/N tilted her head slightly.
"and," she added, "you played really well."
Logan looked up surprised.
"What?"
"You did." She shrugged. "Three goals is kind of incredible, Johnny !"
For a second, he just stared at her.
Y/N fought the urge to smile but tried to hold it, keeping the cool girl character. Then break the character and finally smiled, when she saw his face light up again the exact moment the compliment landed.
He play it cool and was able to recover quickly.
"Well," he said, suddenly looking far too pleased with himself, "I am kind of incredible."
Y/N laughed and flipped him "Fuck off. I'm never complimenting you again"
Logan chuckled softly under his breath too. Too softly and naturally. Her friends exchanged looks and Y/N changed the subject.
âWhereâs Garrett?â she asked.
âSomewhere upstairs with Hannahâ
âSounds right.â
As if summoned by the mention of his name, Garrett suddenly appeared at the top of the stairs.
He spotted Y/N instantly. Then spotted the freshmen girls behind her.
âWell,â Y/N sighed. âSpeaking of the devilâ
Garrett pointed directly at Logan before even reaching the bottom step.
âYou.â
Logan blinked innocently. âMe?â
âDonât try anythingâ throwing back to the conversation they had days ago in his room.
Y/N laughed innocently.
And Logan⌠Logan just grinned slowly like Garrettâs threats had become background noise years ago. Before he could say anything to defend himself Y/N spoke.
âRelax, Johnny wasnât flirting with themâŚâ Y/N said innocently. Then she paused. ââŚyet.â
Dean chuckled somewhere behind them while Garrett looked one second away from developing a stress-induced migraine. Y/N ignored all three of them.
âAnyways,â she continued, turning toward the girls beside her, âcome meet my brother since apparently heâs, like, a celebrity or something.â
âOh my God,â Chloe whispered, panicking instantly.
Garrett groaned. âY/Nââ
Too late. Y/N grabbed his wrist and physically pulled him forward into the circle of freshmen girls despite his resistance.
âThis is Garrett Graham,â she announced dramatically, like some kind of sports commentator. âTeam captain, future NHL star, and unfortunately for you girls, very much taken, so letâs all be respectful and keep your crushes to yourselves.â
Garrett deadpanned. âIâm leaving.â
âNo youâre not.â she held his arm keeping him in place.
Her friends looked fascinated. Which happened a lot around Garrett.
He had that effect naturally. Big presence, sharp stare, the kind of confidence that made people straighten unconsciously when he walked into a room.
Y/N, didnât see him like that at all. Mostly because sheâd spent her entire childhood bullying him.
âHi,â one girl squeaked nervously.
Garrett softened almost immediately. Not by much, maybe two percent, but for him that was practically warmth. The girls standing behind Y/N didn't look like the kind of people she usually spent time with. If he were being honest, he wasn't even convinced most of them were real friends. They seemed far more interested in the house and the hockey players than in Y/N herself. But he knew that she was trying to branch out beyond the skating world, trying to fit in with normal college girls for once, and Garrett wasn't about to make it harder for her.
So he slipped easily into the role they were all expecting: Briar's captain, friendly, polite, approachable. If making a good impression helped Y/N feel a little more comfortable, then he could play the part for a few minutes. Besides, it was nice seeing her with people outside the rink for a change. "Hey," he said politely.
Y/N looked smug. âSee? Heâs house trained.â
âShut upâ
Behind them, Logan watched the entire interaction with amusement tugging at his mouth. His eyes stayed on Y/N a second longer than necessary as she laughed again, and as she walked around introducing her friends to different guys on the hockey team, head tipping slightly toward her friends, arguing with Garrett about something stupid.
Most people looked at Y/N and saw confidence. The loud laugh, the quick comebacks, the way she could walk into a room full of strangers and somehow end up talking to all of them within ten minutes. She moved through their house like she lived there, stealing drinks, insulting people affectionately, making herself comfortable wherever she went.
But Logan had always thought there was something a little misleading about that version of her. Not because it wasn't real. Y/N was genuinely funny and talkative and ridiculously easy to like. The thing was, people assumed that meant she was easy to get to know. She wasn't.
Growing up with their dad she had, she'd learned early how to smile through discomfort, how to hide pain behind politeness, how to make difficult things look effortless. Figure skating had only reinforced it. Years of performing had taught her how to stay graceful when she was exhausted, how to make every movement look intentional, how to let people see exactly what she wanted them to see.
It was almost funny, really. For someone who was such a social butterfly, Y/N kept her world surprisingly small. Most friendships drifted in and out of her life without ever getting particularly deep. The people she truly let in could be counted on one hand: Garrett, the boys, Hannah and Allie. That was it. And whenever anyone pointed it out, she'd just shrug and insist she already had everything she needed.
And she meant it.
For them everything with Y/N felt easy. And Logan still hadnât realized yet that maybe that was his problem. And why it was so hard to push whatever weird thought was going through his head away.
Y/N was halfway through introducing another girl to one of the denfesemen when a girl appeared beside Logan near the couch.
âCongratulations on the gameâ she said with an already flirty undertone, leaning against the side of the couch beside him.
He ignored her for some seconds. Eyes still clued toward Y/N across the room. She was laughing at something Garrett said, one hand gripping his forearm while he looked deeply unimpressed by her existence.
Then the girl said âSo... youâre Johnny?â
That made him finally look back at the girl beside him. He reconized the girl as one of Y/Nâs friends. Pretty. Blonde. Smiling at him.
ââŚdonât call me that.â he said quite rude without even noticing.
She blinked. âWhat?â
âJohnny.â He took another sip of beer. âDonât call me thatâ
The girl laughed awkwardly. âOh. Sorry. Y/N talks about you guys all the time, so I guess it stuck.â
That made something strange settle low in his chest. Y/N talks about you guys all the time. Not just Garrett. But also not just him. But them.
And really, why wouldn't she talk about them?
Y/N spent so much time at their house that half her college memories probably happened within these walls. Movie nights, team dinners, study sessions, late-night food runs, stupid inside jokes that somehow never died.
Somewhere along the way, she'd stopped being Garrett's little sister who occasionally stopped by and simply become part of the group.
Logan wasn't sure any of them had even noticed when it happened and hadnât really thought about it. But apparently Y/N had. And apparently it was an important subject for her.
âYou donât like it, huh?â the girl teased lightly.
Logan was lost in his thoughts and realized a second too late she was still talking to him.
âWhat?â
âThe nickname,â she said. âYou hate it that much?â
âNo,â he answered automatically. Then quieter: âJust sounds weird from other people.â
Because he didnât hate it. Not really. He complained every time Y/N called him Johnny, but half the time he was just pretending. When she said it, it sounded natural. When someone else did, it felt like they were using something that wasnât theirs.
Her smile shifted slightly then, like she finally noticed he wasnât really paying attention to her.
His attention kept drifting back across the room. Y/N had moved closer to Garrett again, still talking animatedly with her hands while her friends listened. Garrett pretended to look annoyed, but Logan knew him well enough to catch the tiny things underneath it.
The way Garrett stayed turned toward her automatically in crowded rooms. The way his eyes tracked her without thinking. The way Y/N leaned into him casually because somewhere deep down sheâd never doubted heâd be there.
Protective. Constant. Safe
It made him think.
Maybe because ever since Garrett had finally told them the truth last year, Logan hadn't been able to completely stop wondering about it. Not about Garrett, about Y/N.
Garrett's stories had always revolved around bruises, shouting matches, slammed doors, and a father who seemed determined to turn every room he entered into a battlefield. Logan knew enough to understand why Garrett carried some of the things he did. Knew enough to understand where the anger came from. But Y/N had always been the missing piece of that story.
He'd never asked her. It wasn't his business. Garrett had trusted them with his memories, and Logan wasn't about to start digging for details that hadn't been offered. Still, he couldn't help wondering where Y/N fit into all of it. Where she'd been during those years. What she'd seen. What she'd heard through bedroom walls. How much of it she remembered, and how much of it Garrett had managed to shield her from.
Because sometimes Logan looked at her and saw someone who seemed completely untouched by that kind of childhood, bright, confident, quick to laugh. Then other times, he'd catch small things that made him think the opposite. The way she avoided conflict she couldn't joke her way through. The way she brushed off things that should probably bother her more. The way she seemed determined to carry every problem by herself rather than ask for help.
Like somewhere along the way she'd learned the same lesson Garrett had. Just in a different form. Hide the damage. Keep smiling. Make sure nobody notices.
Garrett had spent most of his life protecting Y/N. Which made this⌠Whatever this weird thing inside Loganâs chest was⌠feel worse somehow. It felt wrong in a way he couldnât fully explain. Because standing here watching them, it was impossible not to see how much trust existed there. How much love.
And Logan was suddenly terrifyingly aware that he was looking at Garrettâs little sister too long again.
The girl beside him tried one last time anyway.
âSo,â she smiled, letting her fingers brush lightly against his arm, âare all hockey players this antisocial or just you?â
Normally, Logan would've flirted back without thinking. Easy smile. Easy charm. Easy conversation. The girl was pretty. She was standing right next to him, clearly interested, practically handing him an opening. Usually, that would've been enough.
Instead, he barely reacted.
Because his attention kept drifting across the room.
Y/N was near the middle of the living room now, laughing as Hannah wrapped an arm around her shoulders. A second later, the two girls grabbed Garrett from opposite sides and started trying to drag him toward whatever disaster counted as dancing tonight.
Garrett immediately looked annoyed. Or at least he tried to. His mouth was already twitching before they even managed to pull him away from the wall, the corner of it betraying him as Hannah laughed and Y/N nearly doubled over from her own success.
The idiot was enjoying himself.
Logan felt a soft smile tug at his mouth before he could stop it.
The girl beside him followed his gaze.
Watched Y/N and Hannah continue harassing Garrett while he complained the entire time, letting them pull him farther into the crowd anyway.
Then she looked back at Logan. And suddenly went very quiet. âOh,â she said.
For the first time all night, Logan actually looked at her and he realized exactly what she'd been seeing.
Understanding flashed across the girl's face almost instantly. Then came sympathy. Which was somehow worse. The girl looked back at Logan and laughed softly.
Logan frowned. "What?"
"Nothing," she said, still smiling. Then her eyes flicked toward Y/N again.Â
Before Logan could come up with a response, she shook her head, amusement replacing whatever disappointment she'd felt.
"Good luck with that, Logan." she said sarcastically and he noticed she avoided the nickname.Â
"With what?" he asked immediately.
But she was already backing away into the crowd.
"You'll figure it out."
And then she was gone.
No teasing. No accusations. No chance for him to explain that she had the wrong idea.
Logan stared down into his beer for a moment before his eyes drifted right back across the room. Straight to Y/N. And somehow that only made the girl's comment worse. But the worst part is he still didnât even know what exactly heâd been caught doing.
âââââââ
The party kept moving around.
Music louder now. More bodies packed into the house. The heat unbearable from too many people dancing too close together.
And somewhere in the middle of it all that, Y/N.
Sheâd abandoned her jacket hours ago, now down to a cropped Briar U shirt and jeans, hair messy from dancing while Hannah and Allie screamed lyrics around her. Her "friends" were nowhere to be seen anymore, and honestly she felt way better arounf Hannah and Allie anyways.
She looked happy. Not polite-smiling happy. Not teasing-the-boys happy. Actually happy.
Free in a way Logan didnât think heâd ever really noticed before. And maybe it was because this place felt safe to her. The hockey house, Garrett and the boys. She moved through the crowd without hesitation, laughing freely, accepting drinks from Dean without checking them first, throwing her head back when her friends dragged her into another terrible dance circle.
Comfortable.
Because she trusted that nothing bad would happen here. And that somebody would take care of her if it did. Logan watched her spin badly with Hannah and Allie to some early 2000s song while Dean nearly fell over beside her and Tucker recorded the whole thing laughing.
A smile tugged at Loganâs mouth despite himself.
âDude.â
Logan blinked and looked back toward the couch.
One of the upperclassmen frowned at him. âAre you even listening?â
ââŚnot really.â
âNo shit.â
Logan huffed quietly into his beer and leaned back further into the couch cushions.
Conversation started around him again almost immediately, hockey schedules, classes, some argument about playoffs, but it all blurred together after a while.
Because every few minutes his eyes found her again.
Y/N stealing somebodyâs drink. Y/N laughing so hard she doubled over. Y/N dancing terribly on purpose just to make her friends laugh harder. Every glance lasted a little too long. Every time he looked away, his attention drifted right back. He never noticed her like that before. And the more he noticed it the worse it felt.
Because Garrett trusted him.
Hell, Y/N trusted him. She was not only her best friendâs sister, she was his friend too.
She walked into this house without thinking twice because somewhere along the line, the boys had become safe too. Safe enough to steal their drinks, fall asleep on their couches, and trust that nobody would ever see more of it.
The thought settled heavily in Logan's chest.
Because he'd always hated when people said men and women couldn't just be friends. Hated the idea that every friendship secretly came with an expiration date, that eventually one person always wanted more. And yet, watching Y/N laugh her way through the crowd without a second thought, Logan felt like an asshole.
Because as far as she knew, he just another one of the boys.
Then suddenlyâ
âJooooohnny.â
A body dropped onto the couch beside him hard enough to make him jolt slightly. Followed by Garrett, Tucker and Dean.
Y/N grinned at him lazily, very obviously drunk.
Her cheeks were flushed pink from dancing, eyes bright and unfocused while she stole the beer directly from his hand without asking.
âPeopleâs princess,â Dean said sitting on the armchair. âFinally tired of entertaining your subjects?â
Y/N pointed at him dramatically. âDean understands me.â
âYou spilled vodka on my shoes twenty minutes ago.â
âAnd yet you forgive me because Iâm charming.â
âNo,â Garrett muttered, appearing behind the couch suddenly. âhe forgave you because youâre five seconds from falling over.â
Y/N gasped softly. âIâm not even that badâ
She leaned further into Loganâs side as she said it, completely unbothered. Logan went still instantly.
âHi,â she said suddenly, squinting up at him. âWhy do you look depressed?â
âIâm literally just sitting here.â
âYeah,â she nodded seriously. âBut, like⌠depressing.â
Dean burst out laughing.
Y/N ignored him completely and kept staring at Logan with drunken concentration like she was genuinely trying to solve a puzzle.
Then she narrowed her eyes.
ââŚyouâre thinking too loud. You just scored 3 goals in a important game, you are no funâ
Logan looked down at herâ
really looked at herâ
and suddenly realized just how close she was.
Close enough to see the faint glitter still stubbornly clinging near the corners of her eyes. Close enough to smell alcohol mixed with her perfume. Close enough that if she leaned even a little moreâ
His throat tightened.
Y/N blinked up at him slowly with heavy, sleepy eyes, still waiting for an answer to whatever nonsense accusation sheâd just made. Completely unaware of the effect she was having on him. Logan swallowed hard before he caught himself.
Then immediately leaned back, giving her shoulder a light shove taking his beer back.
âShut up,â he muttered with a nervous chuckle. âYou are dead-ass drunk.â
Y/N gasped dramatically like heâd deeply insulted her.
âIâm not drunk.â
âYou almost walked into my lamp ten minutes ago.â Tucker accused
âThe lamp moved.â she said dramaticlly
Dean nodded solemnly from the floor. âHonestly? I saw it too.â
âThank you.â
Garrett looked exhausted. âIâm surrounded by idiots.â
Y/N ignored him entirely and stole Loganâs beer again before he could stop her.
âHeyââ
âYou share,â she informed him.
âYouâve had, like, four drinks already.â he took his beer back
âAnd?â She tilted her head lazily against the couch cushion. âI want to have five" she pouted
And suddenly Logan felt hyperaware again of the fact that she was practically folded against his side.
This felt dangerously wrong. Not because she was doing anything inappropriate. Y/N was just being Y/N. Comfortable, loud, affectionate when drunk, the problem was that she didnât know the effect this suddenly had on him.
âYou are,â she insisted, poking his ribs weakly. âYou are all weird and quiet.â
Logan nearly choked on his beer. âNo, Iâm not.â
Y/N chuckled again, soft and tired this time, until she suddenly dropped her head onto Loganâs shoulder like gravity simply gave up on her. Everything in Loganâs body locked instantly.
Y/N was already half asleep.
âSheâs done,â Tucker announced from the other couch.
âNo shit,â Garrett muttered.
Y/N made a small annoyed sound without lifting her head. âIâm literally awake.â
âCongratulations,â Logan said dryly, staring very hard at the opposite wall instead of the warm weight resting against him. âDo you want a medal?â
ââŚyes. the golden one, in the olympicsâ she said sleepy
Dean lost it laughing again.
And Logan smiled despite himself. Which was exactly the problem.
âDamn it,â Garrett muttered.
Logan glanced up.
Across the living room, Hannah and Allie were fully passed out on the opposite couch, tangled together next to Tucker.
And Deanâ
disappeared suddenly, probably with the brunette he was hooking up with twenty minutes ago.
Garrett took a long breath and pinched the bridge of his nose like the entire party was personally attacking him. âThis is why I hate throwing parties,â he muttered. âEverybody has fun, then somehow the house is destroyed, the beer's gone, and we're the ones cleaning up tomorrow.â
"That's leardship Gare" Y/N mumbled
Garrett ignored her and continued âAnd don't even get me started on freshmen who discover alcohol for the first time and immediately forget how to function.â
âLove you too,â Y/N mumbled sleepily against Logan's shoulder.
Garrett pointed at her immediately.
âYou are exactly who I'm talking about."
âNo, I'm not.â She cracked one eye open. âI'm your favorite.â
âYou're currently drooling on Logan."
Logan nearly inhaled his beer wrong.
Y/N lifted her head just enough to look offended "Liar ! I don't drool."
Then she dropped right back onto his shoulder anyway.
Logan was painfully aware of: Y/N curled into his side. His arm resting along the back of the couch behind her. The fact that he hadnât moved away once.
Garrett sighed heavily.
âHey,â he said finally, looking directly at Logan. âI gotta take Hannah and Allie home before it gets too lateâ
Logan blinked once.
âAnd?â
âAnd Dean disappeared.â Garrett jerked his head toward Tucker. âTuckerâs drunk off his ass.â Then finally: "So do you mind taking care of Y/N?â
The room seemed to go strangely quiet for a second. Garrett trusted him. And Logan felt like the worldâs worst person suddenly. Because Garrett asked the question so easily.
No suspicion. No hesitation.
âYeah,â Logan answered automatically, voice rougher than intended. âCourse.â
Garrett nodded once like that settled it completely.
âJust make sure she drinks water before she passes out.â
Y/N lifted one finger into the air dramatically without opening her eyes. âHydration is important for high performance athletes.â
âYou had vodka mixed with an energy drink.â
âBalance.â
Garrett rolled his eyes and chuckled lightly shaking his head. Then he moved toward the couch, crouching briefly in front of Y/N.
âHey,â he said quieter this time. âIâm taking Hannah back to campus.â
Y/N blinked slowly at him. âKay.â
âYou staying here tonight?â
She nodded immediately, not even thinking about it. âMhm.â
âOkay.â Garrett brushed messy hair back from her forehead automatically. âLock the upstairs bathroom door this time if you shower in the morning.â
Y/N looked offended. âThat happened one time.â
Garrett laughed under his breath despite himself before standing again. Then he looked toward Logan one last time.
âText me if she gets worse.â
Logan nodded once.
And just like that, Garrett handed over the most important person in his life without a second thought.
âIâm not even that drunk,â Y/N complained immediately after Garrett disappeared toward the front door with Hannah and Allie barely conscious behind him. âI donât need a babysitterâ
Her words blended together just enough to completely destroy her argument. Logan looked down at her incredulously.
âYou can barely keep your eyes open.â
âIâm just relaxing.â
âYou called the lamp hostile earlier.â
âBecause it was.â
Y/N rolled her eyes dramatically before letting herself fall backward against Loganâs shoulder again with absolutely no concern for personal space.
âHeâs so dramatic, I swear,â she mumbled. âLike, oh no, Y/N had fun at a party, somebody alert the authorities.â
Logan huffed out a laugh despite himself.
âG is just protective.â
Y/N groaned instantly. âHeâs insane.â
âHe worries"
âToo much.â she added.
She shifted again until she was practically folded into Loganâs side, one leg thrown lazily across the couch cushion beside him. Logan was trying very hard not to think about the fact that her face was tucked against his neck now. He swallowed once and stared straight ahead at the crowded living room like it personally offended him.
Y/N snorted softly against Loganâs shoulder, clearly amused. Then she tilted her head up suddenly to squint at him.
âYou smell nice.â Everything in Loganâs body stopped functioning for a full second. Y/N blinked slowly, still completely serious. âLike laundry detergent,â she informed him.
Logan dragged a hand down his face. âYou are never drinking again.â
Y/N smiled sleepily then, small and lazy and entirely too comfortable against him. Her fingers absentmindedly curled into the sleeve of Loganâs hoodie like it was the most natural thing in the world.
And maybe for her, it was. That was the problem. Because for Y/N, this meant nothing.
Meanwhile Logan was sitting there hyperaware of every point where she touched him while guilt slowly ate through his bloodstream.
Tucker noticed. Of course he did. His drunk eyes narrowed slowly between the two of them. Logan looked up noticing Tucker's eyes on them and stomach dropped immediately.
âIâm gonna take her upstairs,â Logan announced to nobody in particular.
Mostly because he desperately needed to get out of this couch before Tuckerâs drunk ass accidentally developed observational skills.
Y/N barely protested when Logan stood and took her hand, helping her up from the couch carefully. The second she got to her feet, she swayed slightly. He reached out quickly and steadied her.
âWow,â she said, sounding genuinely impressed. âSo strong.â
Logan laughed. âYou're a figure skater. You're supposed to have better balance than this.â
Y/N squinted at him. âI can skate backward.â
âYou can't walk forward.â
âDetails.â
She stumbled toward the stairs with all the confidence of someone who absolutely should not be walking unassisted. Logan followed automatically, one hand hovering near her elbow just in case.
Halfway to the staircase, she faltered. Not from the alcohol this time. A small wince crossed her face before she could hide it, her hand briefly brushing her knee. Logan noticed immediately.
"You okay?" he rushed to her side "What hurts?"
"Nothing."
"That wasn't a nothing face."
"My knee's being dramatic."
"You mean injured?"
"I mean dramatic."
Y/N blinked at him. Then shrugged.
"Yeah. Probably danced too much."
"You dance for an hour and injure yourself?"
"I skate for six hours and injure myself," she corrected. "I dance for an hour and I feel it"
Logan narrowed his eyes. She ignored him. Then she looked up at the staircase. And stopped completely. A look of deep suspicion settled on her face. "...there's more of them than before." brushing the subject with jokes.
Logan stared. "The stairs?"
"Yeah... and they are moving."
"They are literally the same stairs."
Y/N squinted harder. "and multiplying."
"Jesus Christ."
Before she could attempt climbing again and accidentally throw herself backward down the staircase, Logan exhaled sharply and bent slightly to lift her instead.
One arm under her knees. The other around her back. Easy and effortless.
Y/N let out a startled laugh immediately as he picked her up bridal style. Her head tipped backward dramatically while her arms looped loosely around his neck for balance.
âShow off,â she mumbled drunkenly.
Logan rolled his eyes as he started upstairs carefully. âYouâre impossible.â
Logan laughed quietly under his breath before he could stop himself. Y/Ne looked up at him then, smile softer now, eyes heavy and unfocused in the dim hallway lighting.
And God. That was dangerous. Very dangerous.
Then suddenly she spoke again.
âDid you know,â Y/N slurred thoughtfully, âI quit pairs when I was little?â
Logan glanced down at her. âYou did?â
She nodded against his shoulder.
âYeah. My partners could never lift me properly.â  Â
There was something about the way she said it casually, even though this was brand new information, that immediately put Logan on edge.
Y/N just kept going. âI hated pairs, honestly. Being thrown around, being caught, trusting somebody not to drop you.â She wrinkled her nose. âNone of my partners were ever very good at it.â
Then she laughed softly. âOne of them told me I was too heavy.â
The hallway suddenly felt very quiet. Logan stopped walking.Â
âWhat? Does Garrett know about this?â
The look of horror on her face was immediate. âOh my God, no. He'd literally murder a second grader.â
Logan considered that for a second. âMaybe he should have.â
Y/N blinked up at him. âWe were like seven.â
âI don't care.â The answer came so fast it almost surprised him.
A smile tugged at her mouth. âHe was seven too, Johnny.â
âThen he was a seven-year-old asshole.â
That actually made her laugh.
Y/N yawned and rested her head against his shoulder again.
âBesides,â she mumbled sleepily, âit worked out. I was always better on my own anyways.â
She looked completely unbothered, like comments like that happened all the time. Like she'd already accepted them as normal. Somehow, that made it worse.
Logan tightened his jaw and started walking again. "Sounds like your partners sucked."
Y/N laughed softly. "Most of them did."
"They had one job. Catch you."
"That's not technically their only job," she informed him. "But that is a very hockey-player way of looking at it."
"Maybe." He glanced down at her. "Still. If somebody's trusting you enough to throw themselves into the air, you don't get to screw that up."
For a second, she looked thoughtful. Then a sleepy smile spread across her face.
"You would've been a great partner."
Logan snorted. "I'm pretty sure figure skating requires grace and coordination. I'd be kicked out on day one."
That made her laugh. And he smiled to himself proud of it "Maybe... But at least you would've caught me."
The words were casual. The effect they had on him wasn't.
As she said them, her fingers tightened absentmindedly around his bicep where her arm rested. Logan nearly missed a step. Y/N blinked down at her own hand, then squeezed experimentally once more.
"...wow."
Oh no.
"I never realized how fit you were," she mumbled, squeezing again as if this were a perfectly normal thing to do. "This is insane."
"Y/N." he warned
"What?" she asked innocently, looking up at him while continuing her completely unscientific investigation.
"Jesus Christ." he groaned
She laughed softly, still completely unaware of the fact that she was actively shortening his lifespan. Or maybe she was. Drunk Y/N was difficult to read.
Logan tightened his grip under her knees slightly and pushed Garrettâs bedroom door open with his shoulder. The room was dark except for the lamp near the desk.
Y/N immediately sighed dramatically once they entered. âOooh my kingdom.â
âItâs your brotherâs room.â he said unpatient.
Logan walked toward the bed carefully while Y/N kept talking nonsense against his shoulder.
âYou hockey boys are weirdly muscular,â she informed him seriously. âLike scientifically concerning.â
âYou are never drinking vodka again.â
âOkay butâ she poked his chest weakly âyour arms are ridiculous.â
Logan exhaled sharply through his nose. This was torture. Actual torture. Because Y/N sounded completely casual about it. Meanwhile Loganâs brain was actively trying to kill him. He lowered her carefully onto Garrettâs bed, expecting her to let go.
She didnât.
Her arms stayed looped lazily around his neck while she looked up at him from the mattress with heavy eyes.
Too close. Again. Logan swallowed hard.
âAlright,â he said roughly. âYou gotta let go now.â
Y/N frowned slightly like she genuinely needed a second to process the request.
Then finally âOh. Sorryâ she chuckled and slowly, she loosened her arms.
But instead of fully letting go, her hand caught the collar of his shirt lightly before he could pull away.
Logan froze instantly. Y/N squinted at him with sleepy concentration.
âYouâre handsome,â she informed him very seriously.
Logan actually choked a little on air. âOkay,â he said quickly. âGoodnight.â
Y/N started laughing again as he immediately tried stepping backward out of reach.
âRelax, Johnny,â she teased softly, falling sideways into Garrettâs pillows. âYou look scared.â
Scared wasnât exactly the word for it. Terrified felt more accurate. As he organized the bed for her to sleep in. A few seconds of silence, that honestly felt like forever. Y/N looked like she considered something for a moment before finally speak.
âSo did you?â
Logan, halfway through pulling the blanket over her, looked up in confusion.
âI did what?â
Y/N shifted onto her back dramatically, squinting at him with a teasing little smile.
âHook up with Chloe.â
Logan blinked once. ââŚwho?â
âMy friend,â Y/N clarified with an exaggerated eye roll. He still looked confused so she added âThe blonde one.â
âOh.â
âShe wanted to hook up with you,â Y/N continued casually. âHas been talking about it all week.â
Logan snorted softly despite himself. Y/N looked deeply unimpressed. âReally annoying, by the way.â She threw herself harder into Garrettâs pillows like the entire situation personally offended her. âActing like you guys are celebrities or something,â she muttered. âItâs stupid.â
Logan crossed his arms lightly, leaning against Garrettâs desk now.
âYou literally introduced your brother like he was royalty downstairs.â
âThat was ironic.â
âSure.â
Y/N ignored him.
âShe kept begging me to introduce you guys,â she continued. âI told her I wouldnât, but then she was like, âIâll just talk to him myself.ââ
Her voice changed mockingly on the last sentence. Logan laughed quietly under his breath. Then Y/N looked back at him again.
âSo?â she asked. âDid you?â
There was something oddly focused about the question despite how drunk she was. Curious and watching him carefully anyway.
Logan shrugged once. âNo.â
Y/N blinked. âNo?â
âNo.â
ââŚwhy not?â
The question came too fast. Like she asked before thinking about it. Logan noticed immediately. Y/N noticed too, judging by the way her expression shifted slightly afterward. But instead of backing off, she doubled down.
âSheâs pretty,â she said defensively. âLike... a lotâ
âNever said she wasnât.â
âShe literally spent two hours fixing her hair before coming here.â
âReally? Didn't noticeâ he said crossing his arms.
Y/N narrowed her eyes at him from the bed. âYou flirt with everyone.â
âThatâs not true.â
âJohnny,â she deadpanned. âIâve seen you flirt with the library lady.â
Logan laughed. Actually laughed. And Y/N hated for one brief second how good he looked doing it. Drunk thoughts. Dangerous territory.
âShe wasnât really my type,â Logan said finally.
Y/N tilted her head slightly against the pillow.
âAnd what exactly is your type?â
The room got quieter somehow. Suddenly Logan could hear every small sound in Garrettâs room: the muffled conversations dowstairs through the walls, Y/Nâs breathing, his own heartbeat being deeply unhelpful.
Because Y/N was looking at him now. Really looking at him. Drunk curious eyes soft in the low light. Logan forced himself to shrug casually.
âDonât know,â he lied.
Y/N hummed sleepily like she didnât believe him for a second. Then, after a pause:
âYeah... maybe brunettes are more your thing.â
Loganâs breath caught so subtly he almost thought he imagined it himself. Y/N, meanwhile, was already sinking deeper into the pillows, eyes half closed again. Completely unaware of the damage she was causing.
Logan walked away and stayed still near the doorway for a second, hand already on the light switch.
Y/Nâs breathing had evened out. Her eyes were closed. And for one dangerously peaceful moment, he thought sheâd finally fallen asleep.
Good. Because he needed distance. Cold water. Maybe psychological intervention. He reached for the switch.
Thenâ
âDonât leave, please.â
The words were so quiet he almost didnât hear them. Logan turned immediately. Y/N was still curled into Garrettâs blankets, eyes barely open now, voice rough with exhaustion and alcohol. But the teasing was gone.
âI donât like being alone like this,â she admitted softly.
Something in Loganâs chest tightened painfully. Because suddenly she didnât sound drunk anymore. She sounded vulnerable. Young. And underneath the sleepiness and slurred words, there was something deeper there too. Something sad enough that Logan felt it instantly without fully understanding why.
Y/N shifted slightly against the pillow, blinking toward the dark hallway behind him.
âWhereâs Gare?â she asked quietly. Not Garrett. Gare. Like small. Childlike. Old habit.
Logan leaned against the doorframe slowly. âHe took Hannah back to campus, remember?â
Y/N frowned weakly. âOh.â she said in relization.
Silence stretched for a second. Then quieter:
âHe always stays.â
And there it was. That deeper thing again. Logan knew enough about Y/N and Garrettâs childhood to understand what she wasnât saying out loud. Garrett always stayed because growing up, somebody had to.
Somebody had to stand between her and the yelling and slammed doors and bruises Garrett pretended nobody noticed. Somebody had to make sure she felt safe. And apparently even now, drunk and exhausted, part of Y/N still searched for her brother first when she felt vulnerable.
Loganâs throat tightened unexpectedly.
âHey... it's okay. I can stay.â he said softly before he could stop himself.
Y/N looked at him sleepily. Logan hesitated only half a second longer before walking back toward the bed. The mattress dipped slightly as he sat carefully on the edge beside her.
Y/N relaxed almost immediately. Like his presence alone settled something anxious inside her. That should not have affected him as much as it did.
âYou gonna stay?â she asked quietly.
Logan looked down at her for a long moment. Then sighed softly through his nose.
âYeah,â he murmured. âIâll stay until you fall asleep.â
Y/Nâs eyes closed again almost instantly after that. Trusting him without hesitation.
And Logan sat there in Garrett Grahamâs room beside the girl he absolutely should not be thinking about this way, while guilt and something dangerously close to tenderness twisted together inside his chest.
an: i got a little carried away with this chapter and somehow it ended up way longer than i planned đ i really hope you enjoyed it! let me know what you think, i love reading your comments and ideas, also... should i make a taglist? if you'd like to be added, let me know! this fic somehow turned into an 18-chapter monster in my drafts (and it's still growing, which is honestly concerning). meanwhile i'm tagging: @archxve @mcueveryday
new chapters every thursday âĄ
Author:Â @harringtonstilinskiâ
Characters:Â John Logan x Reader
Word Count:Â 1,209
Warnings:Â fluff
Requested: no | yes;
Smut: no | yes;
A/N: Hi, friends! I watched Off Campus and immediately had inspiration while watching a couple of days ago for our boy John Logan. Gif credit goes to @usernattys <3 Anyway. If you like this, please do not hesitate to reblog and give some feedback, whether it be in the reblogs, comments, or my inbox. As always, read at your own risk and enjoy đ
I ran into the Briar University Sports Arena on a fucking mission; to find John Logan. Last week, I had stupidly sent him a series of texts that was meant for my best friend, Hannah Wells. Texts read as follows:
oh, my gosh!!Â
youâll never guess what just fucking happened?Â
i was walking into maloneâs and i had turned my head for two seconds to say hey to someone in my class,Â
and i hadnât seen anyone in my peripherals, so i ran smack into someone.Â
when i turned my head to look at who i had ran into - oh, my god.Â
hannah.
IT WAS FUCKING JOHN LOGAN!!!!
YOUR BOYFRIENDS BEST FUCKING FRIEND.
oh my god, hannah. heâs so fucking hot, like, i canât.
i mean, iâm kind of friends with him, so itâs not like iâm seeing him for the first time or anything
that didnât make sense. ignore that.
he makes me feel like iâm the only girl in the room when weâre hanging out, yaâknow?
iâve been crushing on him for a while. like trying to go to all the home games kind of crushing.
When I had seen those three dots appear on my screen, I had stopped typing out another message, reading the message that had appeared in a gray bubble on my screen.
You know this isnât Hannah, right?
yes it is. stop fucking with me, wellsy.
Look at the contact name.
I had looked and felt my cheeks flush with embarrassment; Johnâs picture and name was at the top of my screen. When he called me, I threw my phone like there was a spider on it, letting it ring until either he hung up or it went to voicemail.
As I ran through the arena, down every corridor I knew by heart before stopping at the entrance to the players room, seeing every single Hawk sitting in their respective places.Â
Oh, yeah. Did I mention that my dad is the coach? No. Well, I have now. So, seeing him didnât shock me. What did shock me was seeing Garrett Graham standing in front of the team, speaking.
âI acted like I was bigger than the team,â Garrett said.
âYeah, you were a bit of an asshole,â Logan responded.
I looked from the back of Garrettâs head to Logan, a smile gracing those perfect lips. When he spotted me, his smile fell a little before a softer one appeared.
âBut even when I abandoned you,â Garrett continued. âEven when I lost my shit when you didnât deserve it, when I forgot about the game and the team and how much fucking fun we have when weâre out there together, you were there.â
A soft smile also graced my face at Garrettâs speech, Hannahâs tutoring paying off pretty nicely. I mean, I helped out some when Hannah wasnât able to because of her shift at Maloneâs, even though her and Garrett had a schedule worked out.
âYou guys backed me up.â Garrett looked over at my dad and said, âThatâs why I⌠love this sport. Is that itâs about showing up and leaving it all out on the ice. Not for yourself, but for the guy on your right. For your brothers. I know I let you guys down. I havenât been the captain that you deserve, butâŚâ
His arm moved, like he was taking something out of his jacket pocket as the players murmured as he did so. Even my brows furrowed and my mouth fell at his movement in question.
âBut until then,â he said. Garrett chuckled, lifting his head. âYou guys already have a captain skating with you out there.â
I looked right at Logan, my vision blurring with unshed tears. Looking at my dad, my smile returned a little, his arm extended for me. I walked into his embrace, watching the rest of the scene play out in front of me.
Garrett looked over my dad, eyeing me before his eyes cast back to my dad. âThat okay, Coach?â
Dad squeezed my shoulder and said, âIâm good with it.â He looked at his players and asked, âGentlemen?â
They all started banging their sticks and cheering a little, Tucker saying, âYeah, Logan!â bringing a smile to my face as I looked at him, a tear sliding down my cheek, my happiness shining for him.
Logan huffed out a small laugh before standing as Garrett made his way over to him, handing him what I now know was the C letter that stood for captain.
âCaptain Logan!â someone said.
Logan and Garrett hugged before he said, âLetâs fucking go!â The players agreed before he looked at me again and smirked. âYou guys go ahead, Iâll be there in a minute.â
All the players and my dad walked off to the stadium, ready to defeat the opposing team on our own rink. Logan walked up to me slowly, a smile forming on his face.
I sighed, and let another tear slide down my cheek before I said, âOkay, you have to know that those messages were meant for Hannah, not you.â
âI know,â he said.
âAnd while all those messages are 100% true, you have to know that I never intended on telling you like that.â
He was no more than 3 feet in front of me as he said, âAnd what was your plan for telling me.â
âI donât know, but just know that I am incredibly embarrassed by it. I never meant to send you those texts. I literally thought that I was texting Hannah. And, no, I didnât notice whose thread I opened before I did. I just⌠opened it.â
IÂ had to tilt my head back to look up at him since he was standing directly in front of me.
âWell, just so you know,â he said, taking his gloves off. âI feel the same way.â
âReally? Because I would totally understand if you didnât anymore, andââ
He cupped my face before saying, âShut up.â Loganâs lips were on mine in a second, stopping my words and thoughts entirely.Â
Our lips moved in such synchronicity, youâd think weâd been a couple for a really long time when in reality, it was our first together. When we pulled apart, he rested his forehead against mine before he released a happy chuckle, if thatâs even a thing.
âJensen, Iâve liked you since the moment you ran into this room freshman year.â
Letting out a soft laugh, I pulled back a little more to look at him, a soft smile on my lips. âIâve liked you since then, too.â Running my fingers over the scruff on his chin, I added, âThe beard is a nice touch. Makes you hotter.â
He wrapped his arms around my waist, picking me up for a second, a louder laugh escaping me.Â
âLogan, if you still want to be captain, I suggest you get your ass out on that ice!â I heard my dad say.
Logan laughed and said, âYes, Coach.â
As I kissed him again, all I could think was that I was actually that I sent him those texts. I pulled back and just looked at him for a second, a small smile on my face before I said, âGo get âem, John Logan.â
A/N 2:Â Â hi, friends! let me know what you thought about! again, please do not hesitate to reblog and give some feedback, whether it be in the reblogs, comments, or my inbox.
Additional Notes:Â i'm open to writing for more off campus characters if this does well.
If youâre tagged and didnât want to be, please let me know.
Italics wouldnât let me tag!
~~~
*Please donât post my writing anywhere else without my consent. The author of this work will always and forever be @harringtonstilinskiâ.
All characters, story lines, and plot aside from y/n and her storyline & plot, are all of the work of Elle Kennedy, author of the Off Campus book series.
*These works contain material protected under International and Federal Copyright Laws and Treaties. Any unauthorized reprint or use of this material is prohibited.
No part of these works may be reproduced in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without express written permission from the author / publisher.
Summary: You were stranded at the library in the pouring rain, the last shuttle bus had left just as you got there, you text your brother, Garrett Graham, if he could pick you up after practice. You'll never guess who he sends instead.
Warnings: none, just fluff, flirting
The next morning, you woke up to a text.
Not an alarm.
Not Garrett reminding you to eat actual food instead of surviving on coffee and granola bars.
Logan.
Your stomach did that annoying little flip it had started doing whenever his name appeared on your screen.
Logan: You alive?
You stared at the message for a second before glancing at the time.
7:03 a.m.
You: Why are you awake?
Three dots appeared almost immediately.
Logan: Hockey.
You: That's not a real answer.
Logan: It is when coach hates us.
You laughed quietly into your pillow.
A moment later, another text came through.
Logan: Did you sleep okay?
The question caught you off guard.
Not because it was unusual.
Because it wasn't.
Somewhere over the past few weeks, he'd started asking things like that.
Did you eat?
How'd your exam go?
Are you feeling better?
Did you get home safe?
Small questions.
Simple questions.
But nobody had checked on you that consistently in a very long time.
Not even Garrett.
You: Yeah.
You hesitated.
You: Better than I have in a while.
There was a longer pause this time.
Then:
Logan: Good.
Logan: I was worried about you.
Your chest tightened unexpectedly.
You didn't know what to do with that.
So you stared at the screen for entirely too long before finally locking your phone and burying your face back into your pillow.
Because somehow that felt easier.
â
The following week became a collection of little moments.
The kind that shouldn't mean anything.
Yet somehow meant everything.
One afternoon you found a coffee sitting on your usual library table.
No note.
No explanation.
Just your exact order.
You didn't even need to ask who left it there.
Your phone buzzed a minute later.
Logan: Don't let it get cold.
You smiled despite yourself.
You: Are you stalking me?
Logan: Maybe.
Logan: Or maybe you're incredibly predictable.
You: That's somehow creepier.
Logan: You're welcome.
â
A few days later, you found yourself sitting in the arena after practice.
Garrett was finishing up with the coaches.
You were supposed to be studying.
Instead, you were watching Logan.
Again.
Unfortunately.
The rink was mostly empty now.
The loud energy from practice had disappeared, leaving behind only the scrape of skates and distant conversations.
Logan sat on the bench removing his gear.
His hair was damp with sweat.
His face flushed from practice.
For a moment he looked exhausted.
Not hockey-player exhausted.
Just tired.
The kind of tired that sat behind someone's eyes.
You noticed it immediately.
Because apparently you noticed everything about him now.
As if sensing your stare, his head lifted.
Your eyes met.
Neither of you looked away.
Not right away.
Something softened in his expression.
Then he smiled.
Small.
Private.
Just for you.
Your heart betrayed you instantly.
Because no matter how many times it happened, you still wasn't prepared for the way he looked at you when nobody else was paying attention.
Like you mattered.
Like seeing you made his day a little better.
â
That evening, Garrett ended up staying over at your dorm to help you move some furniture around.
Halfway through rearranging your room, he dropped onto your desk chair with a dramatic groan.
"I'm starving."
"You've said that six times."
"Because I am."
You rolled your eyes.
Garrett suddenly narrowed his eyes.
"You're smiling at your phone."
You nearly dropped it.
"What?"
His expression became suspicious immediately.
"Who are you texting?"
"No one."
"That's a lie."
"It isn't."
Garrett stood up.
You stood up.
Garrett took one step forward.
You took one step back.
His eyes narrowed further.
"Why are you acting weird?"
"I'm not acting weird."
"You absolutely are."
Panic flickered in your chest.
You knew that look.
Garrett wasn't stupid.
Sometimes he was oblivious.
But when it came to you?
Never.
He'd spent most of his life looking after you.
Which meant he noticed things.
Dangerously observant things.
Your phone buzzed again.
Garrett's gaze immediately dropped toward it.
Your soul nearly left your body.
"Who's texting you?"
"No one."
"Then let me see."
"No."
His eyebrows shot up.
Your answer had come far too quickly.
Far too defensively.
And you knew it.
Because now Garrett looked genuinely suspicious.
"What is going on with you lately?"
You swallowed.
"Nothing."
He stared at you.
You stared back.
The tension stretched for several seconds.
Then thankfully, mercifully, his phone rang.
Garrett groaned.
"Saved by the bell."
You almost collapsed from relief.
He pointed at you.
"This conversation isn't over."
You forced a smile.
"Sure."
But as soon as he turned away, you looked down at your phone.
Logan: How's your day?
You stared at the message.
Then at Garrett's back.
Then back at the message.
For the first time, it hit you just how badly everything could go wrong.
Because this wasn't harmless anymore.
It wasn't flirting.
It wasn't stolen kisses.
It wasn't secret texts.
You were becoming attached.
And judging by the way Logan checked on you, remembered everything you told him, and somehow always knew when something was wrongâ
So was he.
And sooner or later, Garrett was going to notice.
The terrifying part?
You weren't sure you wanted to stop before he did.
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
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SUMMARY: A frustrated figure skater who transferred from Illinois has only one goal: keeping her athletic scholarship this season, and sheâll do anything to change the way people on campus see her â especially if it means improving her image for pairs skating. Even if it costs her a fake relationship with the same person who spread the nickname that turned her into âIce Heart.â
WARNING: SMUT AHEAD CONTENT RELATED TO SEX, RELATIONSHIPS, AND DISORDERS CONTENT CONTAINS FACTS, BUT REMEMBER THIS IS FANFICTION, IF YOU DON'T LIKE IT, LEAVE!
MASTERLIST
0.8 Jealous
I opened the beer and looked at Allie while she forced a smile in the middle of the conversation. A little farther ahead, near the bonfire, FĂŠlix Kelsen was standing next to Logan listening to Dean talk with way too much excitement for that time of night.
And honestly?
Seeing those two in the same place felt wrong on almost impressive levels.
FĂŠlix Kelsen had been the first guy I ever slept with. And also the guy I kept sleeping with during the summers when Allie and I came back to Delaware. A kind of bad habit that had become way too comfortable to end. The problem was that it had been two years since the last time Iâd seen FĂŠlix. Two years since the last time he pinned me against one of the pier walls after some stupid party. Two years since the last time he called me trouble bunny while laughing against my mouth. And now he was there.
Standing next to Logan.
My stomach twisted immediately.
Because Logan was already territorial by nature. Irritatingly territorial. And FĂŠlix had exactly the kind of personality that loved provoking people like Logan just for the entertainment of it.
âYouâve been staring at them for like five minutes,â Allie commented beside me before taking a sip of her drink. I looked away way too fast.
âI have not.â
âYes, you have. And with that specific look.â
I frowned.
âWhat specific look?â
Allie let out a quiet laugh.
âThe âthis is going to end in disasterâ look.â
Because it probably would. I followed Allie toward the group, and the second Kelsen lifted his eyes to me, a huge grin spread across his face before he stepped forward. FĂŠlix had never had any trouble connecting with people. Especially not with people he already had history with. And that meant that even if he hadnât seen me in two years, he still felt close to me â like those two years apart meant absolutely nothing.
âHoly shit, bunny. Damn, you look hot as hell.â
A laugh escaped me automatically as he spun me slightly off the ground before setting me down again. And maybe that alone already said too much. Because old intimacy was dangerous like that. It came back without asking permission.
âYouâre still dramatic,â I murmured, lightly pushing against his chest while FĂŠlix kept his hands on my waist for way too long. His pale eyes quickly traveled down my body before returning to my face. Not subtle at all.
âAnd youâre still hot as fuck. So I guess not much changed here.â
My eyes widened a little while an embarrassed, raspy laugh escaped me. The kind that sounded like hahah.
âI think some things did.â
âSo you two know each other too?â Dean asked, interrupting the small moment.
FĂŠlix stepped beside me and crossed his arms over his chest with a wide grin. The second he moved out of my way, I lifted my eyes to Logan, who was staring directly at FĂŠlix with an expression I couldnât quite tell was disgust or anger because his jaw was clenched too tightly.
âOur parents were friends. You two...â
I started explaining before FĂŠlix nudged my waist, making me glance sideways at him briefly before looking back at the group, who were all very obviously watching the situation unfold.
âSometimes we hung out when my parents came down to check the beach house for the weekend.â Dean nodded.
âSo you were the other rich kid Dean mentioned sometimes,â Beau said, pointing at him, making everyone laugh while FĂŠlix accepted the joke easily.
âYeah, man. I can also be the guy who got his heart broken the second a certain person stopped coming to see me.â
I rolled my eyes and took another sip of my beer while Allie and Hannah stared at me with wide eyes.
âYouâre so dramatic. You know what happened.â
âItâs not dramatic if itâs true, bunny.â
My eyes widened instantly before I looked down at the sand while choking on my drink, making FĂŠlix laugh beside me.
âSorry if you got out of practice with the nickname.â Another laugh rang out â but this one wasnât amused. It was sharp. Bitter. Coming from Logan as he looked at us. To cover it up, Allie forced out a laugh too along with Hannah while the rest of the guys pretended to laugh as well. âAnyway, my parents are gonna freak out if they find out youâre in town. You have to come see them.â
âThatâs a lie. Your mom didnât even like me.â
I laughed, shaking my head at him.
âNah, she loved you. And besides, Allie, you know Jaden would be happy to know you're back in town.â
Allieâs eyes widened immediately.
âOh no,â she muttered, nearly panicked. Dean slowly turned toward her. Way too slowly. FĂŠlixâs smile widened instantly, clearly satisfied with the chaos heâd created.
âHeâs a nice guy,â he explained to the people who didnât know who he was, shrugging casually. âSurfer. Kinda obsessed with Allie that summer. You know how it is.â
âFĂŠlix,â Allie warned through clenched teeth.
âWhat? Iâm being nice. I didnât even mention the part where...â
´´Have you always been this unfiltered, or did I just forget?â I asked.
Logan glanced at me and smiled. That immediately should've worried me.
âYou never really paid attention to how I was, bunny.â
I narrowed my eyes.
âExcuse me?â
âYou always had your mouth full.â
He said it casually.
Without thinking.
Without a single survival instinct.
My brain stopped working for a full second. Then I started coughing. Hard. Across from me, Logan's expression immediately shifted from smug to horrified as he realized what he'd just said.
âOh, fuck.â
Dean nearly inhaled his drink.
âWho wants shots? Isnât that why weâre here?â I interrupted quickly.
Hannah agreed way too fast.
âYes. Shots. Lots of shots.â
âFinally, somebody with good ideas,â Beau announced immediately. Even so, the strange tension spread through the group. Dean still looked suspiciously between Allie and FĂŠlix while Beau started handing out plastic shot cups across the makeshift table near the bonfire.
And honestly? I appreciated the distraction because the tension between Logan and FĂŠlix was already starting to develop a personality of its own. I grabbed one of the shots the second Beau shoved the tray toward us.
âPerfect.â
Everyone raised their cups at the same time.
âTo summer,â Hannah said first.
âTo emotional irresponsibility,â Dean added.
âTo questionable vacation sex,â FĂŠlix finished without hesitation.
The guys immediately burst out laughing. Even Logan. Quietly. But he laughed. And for some reason that was worse. Because when I looked at him over the rim of my cup, I found his brown eyes already fixed on me.
Watching.
Way too calm.
Like he was trying to piece together an entire puzzle inside his head. I swallowed the shot immediately just to break eye contact.
Mistake. Because that shit burned all the way down my throat.
âOh my God,â I coughed. âThis tastes like gasoline.â
âThatâs because Beau mixes drinks like a criminal,â Tucker commented.
âAnd yet you idiots keep drinking them,â Beau replied, offended.
FĂŠlix grabbed another shot and held it out toward me.
âYou still terrible at taking tequila?â
âI was never terrible.â
âBunny, you climbed onto a table and tried to fight a guy dressed like a pirate.â
Allie instantly burst out laughing.
âI climbed onto the table and argued with him, not fought him.â
âI cannot believe I never got to witness that version of you,â Hannah said, laughing while covering her mouth with both hands. FĂŠlix grinned proudly.
âOh, you shouldâve seen her drunk that summer. Tiny, violent, and completely unhinged.â
âOh shut up.â
I rolled my eyes, laughing. But the problem was that Logan didnât laugh this time. I felt it before I even looked at him. The shift in the air. That silent tension that always appeared whenever Logan got irritated and tried pretending he wasnât.
When I lifted my eyes, I found him leaning against a fallen tree trunk with his beer resting on his thigh, watching FĂŠlix talk to me like he was analyzing every detail of the interaction.
His jaw tightened the second FĂŠlix took my empty shot glass from my hand without even asking and replaced it with another.
Natural. Easy. Far too intimate.
As the night went on and I got drunker, I completely gave up on the idea of staying on my feet.
So I simply dropped down beside Logan on the ground, leaning my back against the tree trunk while he distractedly talked to one of the guys from the team.
My shoulder bumped against his the second I sat down, and I felt Logan glance at me quickly before returning his attention to the conversation.
âDude, I still think you stole that traffic sign,â the guy across the fire said.
âI didnât steal it,â Logan replied calmly.
âLogan, you literally used it as a sled in the snow.â
âAllegations without proof.â
I rolled my eyes with a quiet laugh while resting my elbows on my knees. The alcohol made everything feel slower. Warmer. Easier. Especially ignoring the fact that Loganâs leg was pressed against mine.
An idea suddenly popped into my head.
Before I could overthink it, I turned toward Logan and dropped to my knees beside him.
âWhat are youââ
âLogan!â
I grabbed his shoulders before he could finish.
His words died instantly.
My hands slid from his shoulders to the sides of his neck, then up to his jaw, forcing him to look at me.
Logan blinked.
Completely caught off guard.
â...What?â
I couldn't stop smiling.
âWe should go swimming.â
For a second, he just stared at me.
Like he genuinely thought he'd misheard me.
Then a grin spread across his face.
Slow.
Dangerous.
Like I'd just handed him exactly what he wanted.
âOh, now you want to go swimming.â
âYes! I've never gone swimming in the ocean at night before, and you said you wanted to do it. Come on.â
Logan laughed.
A quiet, disbelieving sound.
âI don't know if that's a good idea, bunny. You're pretty drunk.â
I immediately frowned. My hands, which were still holding his face, slid up into his messy brown curls.
âDon't call me that.â My fingers tangled deeper into his messy curls as I frowned at him. âAnd I'm not that drunk.â
âRight.â Logan's mouth twitched. âHe can call you that, but I can't?â
âThat's different.â
âIs it?â
âYes.â I rolled my eyes. âHe calls me bunny. You call me gorgeous.â
For a second, Logan just stared at me before a laugh escaped him.
âThat's your reasoning?â
âIt's perfectly valid reasoning.â
âGorgeous, that's not reasoning at all.â
âLogan.â
âYeah?â
I narrowed my eyes.
âYou are being incredibly annoying right now.â
âAnd you're drunk enough to think swimming in the ocean at two in the morning sounds like a great idea.â
I opened my mouth.
Then paused.
â...Okay, that part might be fair.â
His laugh escaped before he could stop it.
And somehow that only made me want to drag him into the water even more.
âFine. But since you're not coming, I'm going by myself.â
Before he could argue, I pushed myself to my feet.
âGorgeous...â
âToo late.â
I pointed a warning finger at him and started backing away from the fire.
Delaware was safe enough for us to go skinny-dipping, and honestly, we were far enough away from all our friends and the drunk people gathered around the bonfire that nobody would care. I pulled off my skirt, leaving myself in nothing but my panties, then took off the bandeau top that kept slipping down, leaving me completely half-naked.
I heard Logan call my name.
Glancing over my shoulder, I found him already walking after me, his expression somewhere between exasperated and amused.
The cold water rushed over my feet as the next wave rolled in.
I gasped.
âOh my God.â
Logan immediately laughed.
âStill think this was a good idea?â
âYes.â
âYou sound miserable.â
âYes,â I repeated, shivering. âBut that's not the point.â
âThe point being?â
I turned toward him with a grin.
âThe point is that I've never done this before.â
I glanced back at him. Logan was already right behind m To my surprise, he was tugging off his shirt as he walked, tossing it somewhere onto the sand before kicking off the rest of his clothe A second later, he was following me into the ocean in nothing but his boxer
âSee?â I called over my shoulder, smiling triumphantly. âYou wanted to do this
âYou make it sound like I had a choice
âYou did
âNo, I didn't
The water climbed higher as we moved farther from short.
âPlease don't do this and then start a fight with me because you had to take care of me, Logan
Logan just shook his head, running a hand through his damp hai
âNah. We're not fighting anymore. "
His eyes flickered over me briefly before returning to my face.
âSomeone has to stop you from making terrible decisions. "
âThat's funny coming from a hockey player."
Logan laughe
The sound was swallowed almost immediately by the waves crashing around us.
When the water reached our waists, I bent down and dipped beneath the surface, letting the cold ocean soak my hair.
For a second, everything disappeared.
The noise.
The bonfire.
The people.
The thoughts constantly running through my head.
When I came back up, pushing my wet hair away from my face, I turned around.
Logan was closer.
Much close
The dark water moved around us as the moonlight reflected across the surface of the ocean.
For a moment, neither of us said anything.
We just stood there, half-submerged in the water, looking at each other while the waves rolled around us.Â
âHave you ever done this before?â I asked, reaching for his hand beneath the water.
Logan glanced down at our intertwined fingers before looking back at me.
âGone swimming in the ocean at two in the morning?â
A smile tugged at my lips.
âYeah.â
He shook his head.
âNo. "
âReally? "
âReally..." I laughed softly " Not in the ocean and definitely not with a naked woman"
The corner of his mouth lifte
I immediately looked down at the water around us, laughin
âWell, look at that. I didn't even have to unblock you to show you my boobs. "
I meant it as a drunk joke.
A stupid on
The kind of thing that would've normally earned a sarcastic comment from Loga
But he didn't laug
The smile on his face faded slightl
And in the dim moonlight, I caught him running his tongue along the inside of his chee
My own smile faltere
"What? "
Logan shook his head onc
âNothing. "
âThat wasn't nothing
A wave rolled between us. His gaze dropped briefly to the water before returning to mine.
ââI'm trying very hard to be respectful right now, gorgeous.â
I let the water carry me a little closer to his. The ocean had already risen past our waists, making it easy to drift through the waves without much effort.
Before he seemed to realize what I was doing, I wrapped my legs around his waist. My hands slid up to the back of his neck, my fingers disappearing into his damp curls.
âI love how your hair feels in my hands. "
The words came out absentmindedly, my attention completely drifting away from what he'd just said.
I smiled to myself, twirling one of the curls around my finger.
âYou still haven't gone under.â
I looked at him with a small, toothless grin.
âNot even once."
For a moment, Logan just stared at me
Then his hands settled at my butt, holding me steady as another wave rolled between us
âThat's because one of us has to be responsible here.â
"You're not responsible, John. Come on."
I said it lightly, leaning back just enough to put a little distance between us.
His eyes followed the movement.
I felt his gaze drift from my face to the curve of my collarbone before dropping lower right to my boobs.
For a second, he forgot to look away.
The realization made a genuine smile spread across my face.
"There you are," I murmured.
John exhaled sharply through his nose, already shaking his head.
"Don't."
"Don't what?"
"You know exactly what."
My smile only widened.
The ocean shifted around us, another wave rolling between our bodies. His hands tightened instinctively at my waist to keep me steady.
"Thought you were being responsible," I teased.
"I am."
"Really?"
"Yeah."
I raised an eyebrow.
His jaw flexed.
"Being responsible doesn't mean I'm blind."
Heat rushed into my cheeks before I could stop it.
For the first time all night, I was the one who looked away.
Instead of answering with words, I tightened my legs around his waist and pulled us both down since he let me push him down.
The water closed over our headsâcold, sudden, and completely silent. For one perfect second, there was nothing but the salt and the dark and the weight of him against me.
Then we surfaced together, gasping.
I didn't let go.
Neither did he.
Water streamed down our faces as I wrapped my arms around his neck properly, pressing my chest fully against his. Skin to skin. No space left to hide.
His hands found my lower back, fingers splayed wide like he was trying to memorize the shape of me through the night.
I tilted my head and pressed my lips to his jaw first. Then his neck. Just below his ear. Small, lazy kisses that tasted like ocean and something else entirelyâsomething that made my stomach tighten.
Logan's breath hitched.
I felt it.
And then I felt something else.
The thin cotton of his boxers, clinging to him in the water, had started to change. A pressure. A length. Pressing up against the inside of my thigh where I had him wrapped around me.
My own underwear was already soaked through.
Not from the ocean.
I pulled back just enough to look at him.
His jaw was set. His chest was rising and falling faster than the waves around us. Water dripped from his lashes, and his curls were plastered to his forehead.
Slowly, he reached up and pushed my wet hair away from my face. The back of his fingers trailed down my cheek, then my neck, then across my collarboneâbarely touching, just the very tips, like he was memorizing the path.
I shivered.
"Logan."
He shook his head once. Gently.
"I can't kiss you again."
The words landed soft but final.
"Why not?"
His hand kept movingâover my shoulder, down my arm, until his thumb found the inside of my wrist where my pulse was hammering.
"Because you're drunk," he said quietly.
I opened my mouth.
"Don't," he added, before I could argue. "Don't tell me you're not. You are. And I'm not, not like you" He stopped, exhaled, and looked down at where our bodies were still pressed together in the dark water. "I'm not going to be something you wake up and regret."
The waves rolled between us.
My heart was so loud I was sure he could hear it.
"I don't think you would regret.â
I whispered and his eyes came back to mine.
"I can wait."
He said this while kissing my cheek, then my nose, and then the corner of my mouth.
"You don't have to pretend you don't want me and pretend that it is because I'm drunk, Logan."
I whispered it with my eyes closed. Feeling his lips trail down my neck softly, licking the salty sea droplets off my skin.
"Don't put words in my mouth."
"I'm not," he said quietly, his voice close enough to blur my thoughts. "I just know⌠if I hadn't said that we were dating, nothing would've changed between us. You wouldn't be looking at me the way you are now, and I'd probably still hate you just as much."
"Maybe not," I whispered. "But you don't hate me that much anymore, so it doesn't matter."
"Yes, it does."
I said it, and then he lifted his eyes to mine. I let out a sigh at the loss of his tongue on my skin.
"I'm not having this conversation with you drunk, gorgeous."
He said it. I pouted at him.
"Not even kiss me?"
"No."
He said it while nibbling on my neck, making me let out a moan that made him groan in return. His cock pressed against my panties.
"But you can kiss my skin? "
He looked at me. "Fuck. That's not a good idea either."
I moved against him deliberately. "Don't you want to feel how my tits feel in your tongue?â
I asked and he looked at me.His hands tightened on my hips.
"Stop," he said, but his voice cracked.
"Make me."Instead, he pulled me closerânot kissing me, just holding me. His face buried in my neck. His breath hot and uneven.
I moaned his name, grinding against him. The thin cotton of his boxers did nothing to hide how hard he was. I felt every inch of it pressing against me through my soaked underwear, and I rolled my hips again just to hear the sound he madeâa low, guttural groan that vibrated against my throat.
"Fuck," he breathed.
Then his lips trailed down.
Down my collarbone. Down my chest. His mouth was everywhere at onceâlicking, sucking, biting softly at the salt on my skin. His hands gripped my waist like he was trying to anchor himself.
And then his lips closed around my nipple.
I gasped. My back arched. His tongue circled slowly, then flicked, and I felt it all the way down between my legs. He sucked harder, and my fingers tangled in his wet curls, pulling him closer, begging him without words.
"LoganâŚ" His name came out broken.
His other hand slid down my stomach, fingers slipping beneath the waistband of my bikini bottoms. He didn't go further. Just rested them there. Waiting. Asking.
I pushed his hand lower myself.
He groaned against my breast, and the vibration made me moan loud enough that the waves couldn't swallow it."Please," I whispered. "Please, Logan. I need-"
"I know what you need, and i can't give you."
His mouth moved to my other breast, sucking just as hard, just as hungry.
âJust feel.â
I grabbed his hand and brought it between us. Guided it inside my soaked bikini bottoms.
His fingers met wet heat immediately-slick, aching, ready.
"Fuck," he groaned against my skin. The word vibrated through my chest.
His fingers slid through me slowly, exploring, learning. His fingers dipped inside, and I gasped so loud I didn't recognize my own voice.I forced my eyes open. The moonlight caught his face. His lips were wet. His pupils were blown so wide there was almost no blue left. He looked feral. Hungry. Like he wanted to devour me and was barely holding himself back.
But then he pulled his hand away.
I looked at him with wide eyes.
"I can't do this."
The words landed like ice water.
My legs were still wrapped around him. My chest was still pressed against his. I could feel his heart slamming beneath my palms. He was still hard against me. Everything about his body was screaming yes.
But his eyesâhis eyes were screaming something else.
"Loganâ"
"No." He grabbed my hips and pushed me back. Not gentle this time. Not careful. He pried my legs from around his waist and set me down in the water like I was something burning his hands. "I can't."
The cold rushed back in.
I stood there, waist-deep in the ocean, staring at him. My body was still humming. I could still feel where his fingers had been.
"You just had your hand inside me," I said, my voice shaking. "You don't get to stop now and act like you're the good guy."
He flinched like I'd slapped him.
"Youâre right." He ran both hands through his wet hair, tugging at the roots. His chest was heaving. His boxers were still straining. "I donât get to act like anything. But Iâm stopping anyway." He pushed me away, and I wrapped my arms around myself, a scowl on my face.
âAlright.â
I said it while turning to leave the sea, my head dizzy and my body confused. My drunk mind was screaming at me not to be dramatic.
When I got out of the water, I grabbed my clothes and started getting dressed, and I heard John right behind me calling my name.
âY/n.â
âIâm fine. I already told you, all of this is nonsense. A mistake.â
âWhat?â
I looked at him while I finished putting my clothes on and ran a hand through my hair.
âI canât be around you. I canât. Thatâs why I blocked you, thatâs why Iâve been ignoring you.â
"You want to be close to me, thatâs the problem."
"Yes! Thatâs the problem and itâs stupid."
âStupid?â he repeated, shaking his head. âYou think wanting me is stupid?â
âYes! Because we always end up fighting.â
âWell, you are choosing that. You run away from everything. Iâm not saying I know how to deal with it, but you definitely donât,â he said, calmer now, but more dangerous because of it. âYou blocked me, you ran away, you keep saying you canât be around me⌠but youâre still here arguing with me.â
âThatâs not the same thing.â
âIt is,â he insisted, taking another step closer. âBecause if you really didnât want me around, you wouldnât keep coming back into my orbit every single time.â
My breath caught, and I hated that he noticed. Hated the way his eyes flicked down to my mouth for half a second before meeting my gaze again.
âThatâs not fair. You do the same thing as me,â I whispered.
He tilted his head slightly.
âAt least Iâm being honest,â he said. âYou ran. You do stupid shit because youâre scared and you canât be honest. Thatâs why youâre called âice heartââyou donât let anyone see you.â
âFuck that, John Logan. You also canât be honest. You only say and do what benefits youâon hockey, on a fake relationship, whoever youâre going to slip with. Iâm sorry that my parents fucked my head so I canât trust anyone anymore.â
I turned my back on him then, walking back toward the bonfire and leaning against the palm trunk where we had been sitting before going into the sea.
While I was walking back, he followed behind me, his shoulders slumped, defeated, his voice breaking slightly in the middle of the words.
âY/n⌠shit, no⌠Iâm sorry, fuck, I donât want to fight again.â
The heat from the fire shouldâve been comforting, but it didnât reach me properlyânot with my chest still tight and my thoughts spinning too fast to settle.
âWeâre good.â
I pulled my knees up slightly, arms wrapping around myself again as I stared into the flames, refusing to look back at him.
Behind me, I could feel him still there. Still watching. Still not leaving.
Of course he wasnât.
The silence stretched, heavy and uncomfortable, like neither of us knew how to step out of what we had just said.
I swallowed hard, jaw clenched, forcing my breathing to slow down even though it didnât want to.
My fingers dug lightly into my arms as I tried to keep myself steady, pretending the fire was enough to anchor me when everything else felt like it was drifting.
Then his voice came again, closer this time, quieter.
âThatâs not what I meant,â he said and FĂŠlix showed up again a few minutes later with another beer in his hand and that smile of someone who had never learned the meaning of the word limit.
âYouâre gonna kill her with tequila,â Logan commented before FĂŠlix even got close enough.
âRelax, hockey boy. She survived entire summers with me.â
âUnfortunately, I did survive,â I muttered.
FĂŠlix laughed under his breath before crouching slightly in front of me, resting his forearms against his thighs.
âSo do you still dance on tables when you drink or did you finally mature?â
A drunken smile spread across my face as I shrugged.
âI think I matured. I donât threaten people anymore.â I lifted one finger, making FĂŠlix laugh.
âLiar, i just saw you threatening the hockey boy.â he answered immediately. âI think you just got prettier while threatening people now..â
âThat wasnât a compliment,â I muttered, already laughing.
âIt absolutely was.â
âI wasnât threatening him, we were talking. I said, and Felix looked at Logan who was still standing behind us: âyou were talking.â Felix asked and Logan crossed his arms, looking down at my head.
âsomething like that.ââ
âYou know my mom thought you disappeared because you got pregnant?â FĂŠlix said, alternating his gaze between me and Logan.
I laughed nasally at the absurdity of what had just come out of his mouth. FĂŠlix and I had never slept together without a condom, and I was on birth control. There had been absolutely zero chance of that happening.
âShut up. That would literally never happen.â
âI still canât believe you went from nighttime bunny to someone who gets sleepy when she drinks.â
âMhm. Now Iâm a sleepy sad bunny.â
I opened my eyes and saw him smiling at me.
âSo are you two together?â
The question came out genuinely curious. I looked at Logan, then back at FĂŠlix. And before I could answer, Logan spoke first.
âWeâre just friends, man. Nothing more.â
And somehow that made me lose hope all over again. Because deep down, I think I wanted him to lie.
âFriends like us?â FĂŠlix laughed.
I held my breath while shaking my head.
âNo.â
âFriends like you two?â Logan asked.
FĂŠlix grinned widely.
âYou get it, man.â
He slapped Loganâs shoulder before grabbing my hand.
âCome on. I think you need some water. Youâre gonna throw up your organs tomorrow morning if you donât drink like a trillion gallons.â
He stood up while pulling me gently with him, and I went because he was right.
âYeah, youâre right.â
I stood, slipping away from Loganâs warm arms. But before I could fully step away, I felt his fingers brush against mine, stopping me.
âYou sure?â
âIâm okay, I promise. I trust FĂŠlix. I donât wanna ruin another one of your nights because of me. Itâs okay.â
I gave him a soft smile before walking away from Logan again. And it hurt my chest a little because I didnât want to. But I needed distance from his horrible charm that kept softening my heart. FĂŠlix still held my hand while leading me through the people scattered across the sand, avoiding crooked chairs, empty bottles, and couples too drunk to notice anything around them. The music came muffled from the speaker near the bonfire, mixed with the distant sound of waves.
And even walking beside FĂŠlix, I could still feel Loganâs eyes on my back. Which was ridiculous because he had literally just said we were only friends.
Just friends.
Nothing more.
My stomach sank again at the thought.
âYou got quiet,â FĂŠlix commented while opening a cooler near the houseâs porch.
âIâm drunk. My brain is functioning at twenty percent capacity.â
âLiar. Drunk you talks more. Way more. Including dangerously stupid things.â
A laugh escaped me while he handed me a bottle of water.
âYou invent half those stories.â
âMe? Never.â He placed a hand dramatically against his chest. âYou literally tried convincing a police officer the jet ski belonged to you because âspiritually you had a connection.ââ
I opened my mouth in outrage.
âIt was abandoned.â
âIt was parked.â
âDetails.â
FĂŠlix laughed quietly while leaning against the counter behind him. For a few seconds, he just watched me drink water in silence.
âYou wanna go home? I know when youâre tired.â
The truth was that he didnât know anything about me anymore. But I also didnât want to go back to the house where I might find Logan with another girl or something like that.
âYeah. I do.â
âSweet.â
He clapped his hands together excitedly before we started walking back while talking. FĂŠlix was a really nice guy. But something still felt missing. When we got to his place, he kissed me. But when I climbed into his lap, I couldnât feel anything. I pulled my face away from his, looking into his amused eyes that clearly found the situation funny.
I kissed him again.
But when I pulled away the second time, all I could think was that I wished it were John. So I huffed before sliding off his lap and throwing myself onto the bed while staring at the ceiling. FĂŠlix let out a quiet laugh beside me before dropping onto the bed too, resting his head on his arm while watching me.
âHey.â He laughed again. âRelax, bunny. Iâll survive.â
I sighed in frustration into my hands.
âThis is humiliating.â
âNah.â FĂŠlix turned his head toward me. âI think it just means your headâs somewhere else.â
I closed my eyes for a second. Because he was right. Unfortunately.
âYou wanna know the worst part?â I murmured.
âAlways.â
I slowly turned my face toward him.
âI was literally kissing you while thinking about someone else.â
FĂŠlix widened his eyes theatrically before placing a hand against his chest.
âCruel. Brutal. Destroyer of men.â
A laugh escaped me despite the embarrassment.
âI hate you.â
âNo, you donât,â he replied, amused. âBut I strongly suspect you might hate a very specific hockey player right now.â Groaning in frustration, I looked at FĂŠlix beside me.
âWeâre just friends.â
FĂŠlix stared at me for two entire seconds before starting to laugh. Actually laugh. The kind of laugh that made his shoulders shake.
âOh, bunny...â He dragged a hand down his face while still laughing. âYou say that after practically melting in his lap all night.â
âYep, and he still doesnât want me.â
âIâm pretty sure he does. He looks at you the way I looked at you for years.â
I looked at him and Felix shook his head, making a face. âRelax.â And he continued: âThe point is, he doesnât want you because you only tell him you want him when youâre drunk, or because you donât let yourself give him a chance to show that to you when youâre sober.â
I rolled my eyes hard.
âYouâre awful.â
âNo. I just have perfect vision.â
He shifted into a more comfortable position on the bed, watching me for a moment more quietly this time.
âWant me to be honest?â
âThat never brings me happiness, but go ahead.â
âI think you two are idiots.â
A nasal laugh escaped me.
âWow. Deep.â
âNo, listen.â He pointed at me. âYou look at him like he could rip your soul out through your mouth.â
âFĂŠlix...â
âAnd he looks at you like heâs constantly five seconds away from committing a crime.â
My face heated instantly. Because unfortunately? That sounded way too accurate.
âThen why did he say weâre just friends?â
The question came out quieter this time. More honest than I wanted it to. FĂŠlix tilted his head slightly, studying me.
âBecause maybe heâs stupid. Maybe heâs afraid of holding you close to him, I donât know, it depends.â
He makes a pause.
âOr maybe heâs trying not to make things worse.â
I frowned.
âWhat things?â
âThings like clearly wanting you while also acting like itâs a terrible idea.â
That made my chest ache in an irritating way.
Because Logan really did do that.
Pulled me close. Looked at me like that. Got irritated whenever another guy came near me.
But then a second later heâd act like there was some invisible line between us he couldnât cross.
âHe pushes me away all the time.â
âBut you keep coming back.â
I went quiet. FĂŠlix smiled slightly when he realized I didnât have an answer.
âThatâs the problem, bunny,â he murmured. âYouâd never feel like this over someone who didnât actually get to you.â
I huffed, sinking deeper into the mattress.
âBut we donât work.â
I whined. FĂŠlix exhaled through his nose, resting his head against the headboard while watching me silently for a few seconds.
No jokes.
No teasing.
Which was almost scary coming from him.
âMaybe you really donât,â he finally said. âBut thatâs never stopped anyone from falling in love, bunny.â
My heart stumbled inside my chest instantly.
âIâm not in love with him.â
FĂŠlix slowly raised an eyebrow.
His entire expression screamed liar.
âYou left this place for two years. Came back now. And in less than a week youâre already looking at this guy like heâs simultaneously your biggest problem and your favorite drug.â
I frowned immediately.
âI donât think I know how to love someone, FĂŠlixâŚâ
âOf course you do, silly.â he answered calmly. âAnd thatâs where youâre making the mistake...you canât try to sabotage your own happiness just because someone broke you along the way.â
I opened my mouth.
Then closed it again.
Because that was the worst part.
Logan didnât make me feel bad.
He made me feel everything.
And maybe that was exactly the problem.
âHe just...â I rubbed a tired hand over my face. âConfuses me.â
FĂŠlix nodded slowly like heâd expected that answer.
âThen stop pretending this is friendship.â
âBut he said...â
âI heard what he said,â FĂŠlix interrupted. âI also saw the way he looked at me when I talked to you.â
A short laugh escaped me before I could stop it.
âHe was just drunk.â
âOh, right.â FĂŠlix nodded, amused. â Beacuse a drunk guy would have the sense to care whether theyâre about to hook up with a drunk girl or not.â
I stared back at the ceiling.
Trying to ignore the fact that maybe FĂŠlix was right about literally everything. Comfortable silence settled between us for a few seconds until I heard him sigh dramatically beside me.
âYou know what annoys me most about all this?â
âWhat?â
âI wouldâve had a very solid chance of getting laid tonight if that emotionally repressed hockey player didnât exist.â
A tired laugh escaped me.
âYouâre still incredibly full of yourself.â
âAnd incredibly handsome. Donât forget that part.â
âI never could. Your ego wonât let me.â
FĂŠlix grinned proudly before standing up from the bed.
âAlright. Executive decision. Youâre going to sleep because youâre drunk, emotionally unstable, and clearly in love.â
âI hate that word.â
âTough. Still true.â
He walked toward the bedroom door, but stopped before leaving.
âOh, and just so weâre clear?â
âHmm?â
âYou still matter to me after two years, bunny. If you need me to beat him up, just let me know.â
I rolled my eyes, smiling.
âYou donât even like me that much.â
FĂŠlix placed a hand over his chest, offended.
âBunny, you were literally my favorite disaster for three summers straight. Of course I like you.â
That warmed my chest in a way I hadnât expected.
Because FĂŠlix had always been that: chaos, comfort, and terrible timing. He winked one last time before turning off the bedroom light. And the worst part? Even after everything. Even lying in another guyâs bed. The only thing on my mind was still Logan.
English isn't my first language, so pls go easy on me.
If you find anything that isn't in English, please let me know. Sometimes I write things in Portuguese to help me find my place in the story faster, and occasionally they slip through unnoticed.
SUMMARY: A frustrated figure skater who transferred from Illinois has only one goal: keeping her athletic scholarship this season, and sheâll do anything to change the way people on campus see her â especially if it means improving her image for pairs skating. Even if it costs her a fake relationship with the same person who spread the nickname that turned her into âIce Heart.â
WARNING: SMUT AHEAD CONTENT RELATED TO SEX, RELATIONSHIPS, AND DISORDERS CONTENT CONTAINS FACTS, BUT REMEMBER THIS IS FANFICTION, IF YOU DON'T LIKE IT, LEAVE!
MASTERLIST
0.8 Jealous
0.7 Lual
If your friends ever tell you theyâre going to stay loyal to you, donât trust them. Especially if those friends are hooking up with giant hockey players. And especially if those friends are named Hannah and Allie.
My life was miserable. Miserable because, for some idiotic reason, I had finally realized just how much I missed Logan bothering me all day through text messages. How much I missed his irritating presence taking up every second of my day. But that didnât mean I was happy with my current situation.
Because my reality, at that moment, was being crushed into an incredibly uncomfortable position between John Logan and Tucker, while Allie chattered away in the front seat behind Dean in the passenger seat, and next to Hannah, who was practically glued to Garrett. Beau was driving while singing musical theater songs with Allie as if we were inside a Broadway production instead of trapped in a car for hours.
âThis is so cool! Y/n and I used to go to Delaware together when we were kids. Oh my God, itâs like weâre traveling back in time. We have to recreate that picture on the pier!â
âYou guys used to spend summers at the beach together? Thatâs adorable,â Hannah commented with a smile.
Allie nodded excitedly, leaning forward in her seat while staring out at the road through the window.
âHer parents and mine rented houses near the beach every year. We spent all day running around in the sand, stealing fries from the boardwalk, and pretending we knew how to swim in the ocean without dying.â
âHey, I knew how to swim,â I grumbled.
âYou almost got dragged away by a wave when you were nine.â
âDetails. I was nine.â
I narrowed my eyes before slowly rolling them. I shifted in my seat and, in an almost desperate attempt to avoid looking at Logan, squeezed myself closer to Tuckerâs side. He immediately stretched his arm out behind me along the back of the seat, pulling me a little closer. And I knewâ honestly knew â that there was absolutely nothing romantic about it, so I simply relaxed against the seat.
The group conversation slowly started to scatter, everyone drifting into different random topics, and I took advantage of the moment to adjust myself again. That was when I heard Logan let out a low, irritating nasal laugh beside me. It made my eyes meet his for the first time since the morning I walked out of his room after the Delta Pi party.
Which was honestly a little shocking. Because apparently, after Logan found out I had blocked him after the last message I sent, the tension between us had increased fifty times more than it already was. And honestly? We could barely look at each other without turning the entire atmosphere into an emotional time bomb. So looking back into those deep brown eyes again was devastating for my poor heart.
I looked away too quickly, as if Iâd been caught doing something forbidden, and felt Tuckerâs fingers absentmindedly playing with a strand of my hair from where his arm rested behind me. At the exact same moment, Logan spread his legs even wider, pushing my knee to the side. I immediately lowered my gaze, letting out an irritated huff while staring at the ridiculously exaggerated amount of space he was taking up. I was already uncomfortable, and that asshole was clearly making it worse on purpose.
âCan you have at least a little self-awareness and stop taking up the entire seat?â Logan slowly turned his face toward me, as if genuinely surprised that I was finally speaking to him.
âI think maybe I should ask Tucker that because, damnâŚâ Logan covered his mouth, pretending to look shocked. âYouâre practically sitting in his lap.â
âAnd youâre taking up the space of three different people.â
âTheyâre my legs, sweetheart. I canât exactly rip them off.â
âToo bad.â
âLogan, thereâs actually a name for thisâŚâ Tucker started before continuing, âJealousy.â Tucker said through a fake cough. I immediately shook my head, lowering my face as I felt my cheeks heat with irritation.
âShut up, man,â Logan muttered beside me.
Tucker raised his hands in surrender, finally removing his arm from behind me while a low laugh escaped him.
âHey, Iâm just observing facts.â
âThen observe in silence,â I murmured. I huffed irritably and shifted farther away from both of them, trying to find a minimally comfortable position on that cramped seat. The problem was that now Tucker had removed his arm from behind me and Logan was still taking up too much space, leaving me with practically no choice except to stay pressed against him.
The universe clearly hated me.
I crossed my arms over my chest and kept my eyes fixed on the back of Hannahâs head, pretending to have an absurd amount of interest in the color of her hair while feeling Logan move beside me.
âYouâre pouting,â he commented quietly near my ear after a few seconds. I looked at him, equally pouty, and whispered back:
âIâm not.â
âYes, you are.â
âAnd youâre annoying me.â
âThatâs not exactly new.â
The corner of my mouth almost lifted. Almost. And apparently Logan noticed, because he let out another one of those low nasal laughs â the kind Iâd already learned to hate for a completely different reason than I should â before shifting in his seat and deliberately leaning his body closer to mine.
âOh, so I can still make you laugh. Thought it'd be impossible since, y'know... you blocked me.â
I immediately turned to look at him.
Mistake number one.
Because suddenly the space between us felt way too small.
âIt's better this way,â I said.
Apparently, that wasn't enough for him.
Logan leaned in until his lips were just beside my ear.
âYou were awfully tempted to send me pictures of your tits, gorgeous.â
âOh, sure. I was just desperate to send you pictures so you could jerk off to them,â I shot back through gritted teeth.
âDon't flatter yourself.â
A slow grin pulled at the corner of his mouth.
âYou almost smiled.â
âDid you take one too many hits in hockey and start hallucinating?â I asked sweetly. âYou should probably see a doctor about that.â
âIâm just paying attention to what matters.â
His voice dropped lower. Slower.
My heart immediately stumbled.
I hated that.
Hated how easily he could get under my skin. Hated how every conversation somehow turned into this ridiculous game neither of us seemed capable of stopping.
âYou should really find a hobby, Logan.â
âI had one.â
His eyes never left mine.
âAnd you blocked it.â
My stomach tightened.
´´I delated.´´
Fuck him. Fuck that stupid smirk. And fuck the fact that part of me was fighting not to smile.
´´Yeah, same thing.´´ I looked away far too quickly, focusing on literally anything that wasn't him. Big mistake. Because now I was painfully aware of how close he was. Of the warmth radiating from him. Of the stupid satisfaction practically glowing off his face. âLook at me,â he said softly.
I immediately rolled my eyes.
âAbsolutely not.â His grin widened. And somehow that made everything worse. Twenty minutes later, in silence, Logan nudged me with his knee. I looked at him once, a silent warning. He nudged me again. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. He nudged me a third time â and then I looked at him for real, serious.
âStop doing that.â
He smiled at me like a bratty child, but his eyes looked nothing childish at all. He looked away first, pretending innocence. And one second after I stayed silent, he nudged me again.
I huffed. Then threw one leg over his. My thigh landed between his spread legs, taking up the space he had also claimed. Now our bodies were way too close. My thigh brushed dangerously against his cock â which, through completely accidental curiosity, was half-hard.
I looked up at him way too quickly.
Loganâs gaze darkened. One of his hands dropped onto my thigh. And I touched his face, brushing the hair that had fallen over his eye away while staring into those dark eyes.
âBehave, Logan.â
I said it quietly before pulling away from every point of contact between us. Idiotic bastard. And my entire body reacted before my brain could protest. The corner of his mouth lifted slowly. Idiot. Complete idiot.
But, for the first time since I got into that car, Logan finally stopped physically provoking me. No more knees nudging me, no more purposely taking up even more space. He just stayed there beside me, absurdly close, as if that tiny interaction had been enough to calm something inside him. Which honestly was worse. Because now I could feel every detail of his presence. The warmth of his body beside mine.
His cologne. The slow rhythm of his breathing. And especially the strange silence between us, heavy with things neither of us seemed willing to admit in front of everyone else. Up front, Allie discreetly turned around in her seat, her narrowed eyes moving from me to Logan.
âYou two are being terrifyingly quiet. I´m scared.â
âYou should be scared.â
I said it just as Dean immediately laughed.
âWait until they find out.â
Now this is the part where I ask: find out what?
But let me spare you that part because, honestly? They only decided to tell us once we got to Delaware. And I wasnât even remotely surprised when I found out the âcarefully separatedâ rooms had conveniently placed me and Logan in the exact same room. Because apparently my friends had completely lost their fear of dying.
âDonât kill us, okay? Itâs just that you two make a great couple. LikeâŚâ Tucker started slowly while Logan and I were practically cornered at the bedroom door they had chosen for us.
âLike an old married couple that argues all the time,â Hannah completed with a guilty smile.
âMixed with rabbits in heat,â Allie added without even a little shame.
âOh my God.â I muttered while staring at my friends without a shred of expression.
Dean started laughing while pointing at me and Logan.
âYou two canât even look at each other on campus without creating weird tension. At least here youâll be forced to talk.â
âWe talk normally,â Logan answered from behind me.
âYeah, what you guys are saying isnât true. Weâre fine with each other.â The silence that followed was so absurd that I immediately realized my mistake.
Because nobody believed it. Not even a little. Garrett literally turned his face away trying to hide his laughter. Hannah lowered her head while biting her lips. Dean let out a loud laugh without a trace of shame while Allie stared at me with an expression way too sympathetic for someone who had just thrown me into the same room as John Logan.
And LoganâŚ
Logan was completely silent behind me.
Which was worse.
Much worse.
I slowly turned to look at him, fully expecting that arrogant, irritating smile he always wore whenever he knew something I didnât want to admit. But he wasnât smiling.
He was looking at me.
Just looking.
With that intense gaze that made my brain forget how to function properly.
âWell?â Dean repeated through laughter. âYou two practically ripped each otherâs heads off during the whole car ride.â
âThatâs their version of flirting,â Beau commented.
âItâs disturbing,â Tucker added.
âThanks for the support, guys. I muttered dryly.
âWe support love,â Allie answered dramatically, pressing a hand to her chest.
âThis isnât love,â Logan and I said at the exact same time.
Dean immediately pointed at us both. âThat. Right there. That terrifying couple synchronization.â
âOh my God, you literally talk at the same time,â Hannah laughed and i rolled my eyes hard before dragging a hand down my face, already completely out of patience.
âYou guys donât understand,â I muttered, rubbing the bridge of my nose. âWe donât work because weâre complete opposites.â I let out a tired little laugh. âAnd honestly? We were better as friends. Which we never really were, to be honest. So⌠I donât know. Weâre nothing. We never were anything, guys.â
The hallway went silent for a second. Then Logan let out a short laugh through his nose behind me.
âSheâs right.â
My heart stumbled in my chest even though I didnât know exactly why. I slowly turned toward him again and he was leaning against the wall beside the bedroom door, arms crossed, looking absurdly relaxed.
But I knew him well enough to notice the details. The tight jaw. His fingers tapping slowly against his own arm. The way he avoided looking directly at me.
âWe were never anything,â he repeated with a calmness that felt way too strange. âSo you guys can stop acting like this is some tragic love story.â It hurt more hearing it come from him, and I hated that. Allie immediately grimaced.
âYou two are so anoying. If youâre nothing, then stop fighting like an old married couple.â
âI seriously donât know where you guys get that from,â I grumbled, hugging my own body while staring at the bedroom door as if it could magically disappear.
âGreat. Since youâre nothing, then you can tolerate each other,â Dean said, clapping his hands once before grabbing Allie around the waist and throwing her over his shoulder.
She immediately let out a scandalized scream.
âY/N, IâM SORRY! I SWEAR IT WAS FOR A GOOD CAUSE!â
Hannah only gave me a smile far too guilty for someone who had obviously been part of the plan from the beginning.
But honestly? Was I upset with them? Yes. Very. But I also wasnât stupid enough to pretend I was surprised. Because, looking back now, it was obvious those emotionally manipulative snakes would do exactly this. So I simply turned my back before anyone could say anything else and walked into the room without ceremony, dragging my suitcase with me. I threw it into the corner harder than necessary.
The room was beautiful. Big, too. It had a small balcony overlooking the beach, two little tables near the window, and cozy lighting that felt irritatingly romantic for a situation that definitely did not need to feel romantic.
âItâs not like weâve never slept in the same bed before, right?â
Logan broke the silence and I glanced at him over my shoulder before nodding silently.
âSure.â
The word came out much weaker than I intended. Logan calmly closed the door behind him before tossing his backpack near my suitcase. He looked way too comfortable in this situation. Irritatingly comfortable. Meanwhile, my brain was collapsing just from noticing the size of that bed. Because sleeping in the same bed as Logan once had already been a terrible idea. Sleeping together again felt like practically begging for trouble. I crossed my arms over my chest and looked away from him before my body decided to remember things it absolutely did not need to remember right now.
Like his warmth.
The weight of his arm around my waist.
The way he pulled me close in his sleep like it was automatic.
Idiot.
âRelax,â Logan murmured, as if he could read my thoughts. âI promise Iâll behave.â I let out a short, incredulous laugh.
âYou literally canât behave for more than five minutes.â
âThatâs offensive.â
âThatâs the truth.â
He smiled sideways. That crooked, lazy, dangerously beautiful smile that made my heart act like a complete traitor to my own body.
´´Listen...â he started. âI'm sorry for the way I talked to you the last time we were together. I texted you after, but apparently you never even got around to reading it.â
Of course he had apologized.
And I had blocked him before I ever got the chance to see it.
Stupid.
His voice lost part of its usual teasing edge, becoming quieter. More serious.
I thought maybe it'd be better if I couldn't talk to you. Then maybe I'd stop screwing everything up,â I murmured.
I couldn't bring myself to look at him right away.
Instead, I crouched down and focused on untying my skates.
âYou would never screw things up.â
The certainty in his voice made my chest tighten.
I let out a quiet scoff and shook my head.
âYeah,â I muttered. âI already did.â
Only then did I look up at him.
Logan's expression softened almost immediately.
âNo, you didn't.â
The words came so naturally that it was almost irritating.
Like he genuinely believed them.
Like it wasn't even up for debate.
I only looked at him. Because there was no way he could know. No way he could know that I fell asleep thinking about his kiss and woke up wanting his mouth on my skin. No way he could know that avoiding him hadn't made anything easier. It had only made me miss him. A humorless laugh escaped me.
âAnd I understand why you were angry,â I said quietly. âI was irresponsible when it came to the drinking, but I told you⌠I knew you were there. That's why I accepted it. Still, it was stupid.â
âYeah. It scared the hell out of me.â
The words slipped out before I could stop them.
âThinking that guy could've done something to you.â
My fingers froze on the laces. Slowly, I looked up.
âYou hit him because of that?â Logan let out a short breath through his nose. Not quite a laugh. Definitely not amusement.
âAll I could see was red.â His gaze drifted away for a second before finding mine again. âAnd you being dragged out of that house.â His jaw flexed. The memory clearly still sitting somewhere ugly inside him. âIt completely took me out of myself.â The room suddenly felt quieter. Smaller. For the first time since we'd walked in, I really looked at him. âI told you the truth when I said the only reason I didnât completely destroy that guy right there was because you needed me.â
âThank you for that,â I said softly. âEven though you didn't have to.â I took a step toward him without thinking. Just one. Like some stupid part of me had forgotten we weren't supposed to do this anymore. The realization hit immediately, and I stopped myself. Logan's gaze flickered downward. To the step I'd taken. Then back to my face. âAre we okay?â
âAre you okay?â
He changed the question, and I bit the inside of my cheek, shrugging honestly.
âNot really. Are you?â
âThat son of a bitch at the rink got me pretty good in the ribs, so no.â He said it while lowering his head with a laugh, and I did the same. âI didnât like being on bad terms with you, gorgeous.â My smile faded immediately. Not because I disliked hearing it. Quite the opposite. âI don't think I could go back to what we were before.â His voice was quieter now. More careful. âBecause before... I didn't know you.â
My heart tightened so hard it actually hurt. Because that was exactly the damn problem. Before was easy. Before Logan was just Logan. The irritating guy who teased me at parties, sent me stupid texts during class, and showed up in my room uninvited to steal food and get on my nerves. But now I knew him. I knew the way he went quiet when he was worried.
The way he clenched his fists when he lost his temper. The way he looked at me like he was constantly trying to decide between kissing me or arguing with me.
And unfortunately, that changed everything.
I swallowed hard before looking away.
âPretending to date was a terrible idea,â I muttered, and Logan sat down beside me, nodding.
âYou know I didnât actually hook up with that girl in the bathroom at the party that day, right?â
His voice was quiet.
Careful.
I looked at him without saying anything.
Logan stayed seated beside me, his elbows resting on his knees for a moment before he finally lifted his gaze to meet mine.
âIâm sorry it looked that way,â he continued. âI was just trying to get something out of my head.â
My stomach tightened.
âSomething?â I repeated quietly.
Because suddenly I wasn't sure I wanted to know what that something had been.
âSomeone,â he corrected softly.
My chest tightened even more.
âItâs fine,â I said, lowering my gaze to my hands.
âIâm sorry my mom interrupted you in the middle of practice that day,â I said after a moment, lowering my eyes to my hands resting on my thighs. âSheâs not exactly used to being nice.â
A short laugh escaped him. Not because it was funny. Because he knew exactly how much of an understatement that was.
âYeah,â he said softly. âBut Iâm used to parents not liking me, so.â
The embarrassment burned under my skin.
âStill. You didnât deserve that. Itâs not you,â I added with a small shake of my head. âItâs everyone. Sheâs like that with anyone who doesnât follow her rules.â Logan raised an eyebrow. âI think she might actually hate me, though,â I admitted with a small shrug. âSo donât take it personally if she runs into you again and treats you like shit.â
For a moment, neither of us spoke. Then Logan nudged my shoulder lightly with his.
âI've had hockey coaches scream worse things at me.â
I glanced up.
âThatâs not helping.â
âIt wasn't supposed to.â And despite myself, I smiled. We looked at each other again, and nobody said anything else, because there werenât enough words for whatever this was â but there was something between us.
A knock at the door came along with someone yelling that it was time to go because we were heading to a midnight luau and needed to get ready. So I stood up while Logan rubbed his face with both hands. I walked over to my suitcase and knelt down, grabbing an oversized shirt I had brought to sleep in.
The moment I lifted it up â which made Logan genuinely laugh â he threw himself back onto the bed, leaning on his elbows.
âWell, no more wanting to kill each other.â
âOh, donât dream. Thatâll never stop.â
âOkay, but since we're friends now, you have to promise you'll go into the ocean at night.â
Logan said it with a grin. I immediately laughed and shook my head.
âNo fucking way.â
âOh, come on.â
âAbsolutely not.â
âPlease?â
He pressed his palms together dramatically. Then he gave me those ridiculous puppy-dog eyes. The ones that should've looked stupid on a six-foot-something hockey player. And somehow didn't.
âLogan.â
âGorgeous.â
âNo.â
âGorgeous.â
I groaned.
He was smiling now, clearly enjoying himself.
âThe ocean at night is terrifying.â
âItâs fun.â
âItâs where people get murdered.â
âItâs Delaware, not a horror movie.â
âYou don't know that.â
His laugh echoed through the room. Warm. Easy. The kind that made it impossible not to smile back.
âPlease,â he tried again. âJust once.â
I narrowed my eyes.
âYou're unbelievable.â
âThat's not a no.â
âIt absolutely was.â
His grin only widened.
Later that night, I walked beside Hannah and Allie. Before coming here, we had agreed to bring outfits that would look good in pictures, so I was wearing a deep green set that looked almost wild and enchanting at the same time. The top was fitted and delicate, covered in pale floral embroidery spreading across the sheer fabric like vines drawn over skin. Tiny beaded fringes hung from the hem, brushing against my body with every movement. The skirt sat low on my waist, short enough to leave most of my legs exposed. The fabric was light, layered, and asymmetrical, moving easily when I walked, mixing lace, sheer panels, and golden details. My stomach remained completely exposed between the skirt and the top, emphasizing the curve of my waist and making the look far bolder than anything I would normally have the courage to wear.
Allie wore a long sheer blue skirt with a blue-and-white top that pushed her chest up and left practically everything on display, while Hannah wore a seafoam-green dress that flowed down her legs in sheer ruffled layers and pushed her breasts upward. The moment I put the outfit on, I almost gave up on going out dressed like that. There was too much skin showing â my stomach was exposed, my legs were exposed â and I felt completely out of my comfort zone. But when Logan, who had been behind me pulling on a shirt, looked up and saw me, he stopped.
And I swear to God he stopped breathing for a second.
Immediately, I turned toward him before glancing down at my own body in the mirror, biting my bottom lip nervously.
âI don't care if you're trying to be nice. Just tell me the truth⌠does it really look that bad?â I asked, turning back toward the mirror. âLike⌠really bad?â I swallowed hard. âThe little bit of stomach fat I have is way too noticeable and maybe, uh⌠I donât know, maybe my waist doesnât look right in this. Jesus, you know what? Never mind. Iâm changing.â I spoke way too fast, rambling while staring at myself in the mirror, and before I could fully turn around again, Logan walked over and grabbed my shoulders.
I looked at him, and for a second my shoulders just dropped. And somehow thatâs how I ended up at a luau, sitting around a bonfire with a beer can in one hand and sharing a microphone with Allie in the other while we screamed Best Song Ever through our laughter in front of a crowd of complete strangers.
When we finished singing, we went to grab another beer, and Allie nudged me with her elbow, making me glance over my shoulder toward our group.
âOh, shit.â
âHeâs still here.â
âApparently.â
âOh, this is going to be fun.â
English isn't my first language, so pls go easy on me.
If you find anything that isn't in English, please let me know. Sometimes I write things in Portuguese to help me find my place in the story faster, and occasionally they slip through unnoticed.
firts taglist- If I forgot to add you to my taglist, pls don't hesitate to remind me!
SUMMARY: A frustrated figure skater who transferred from Illinois has only one goal: keeping her athletic scholarship this season, and sheâll do anything to change the way people on campus see her â especially if it means improving her image for pairs skating. Even if it costs her a fake relationship with the same person who spread the nickname that turned her into âIce Heart.â
WARNING: SMUT AHEAD CONTENT RELATED TO SEX, RELATIONSHIPS, AND DISORDERS CONTENT CONTAINS FACTS, BUT REMEMBER THIS IS FANFICTION, IF YOU DON'T LIKE IT, LEAVE!
MASTERLIST
0.7 Lual
0.6 Deleated
I woke up far too late. Missed my classes, missed morning practice, missed the messages, missed who I was because i didnât want to get out of bed. I didnât want to face my swollen eyes, didnât want to face Hannah or Allie worrying about me â even more worried than they already were when I came home barely able to breathe. I didnât want to face real life because it was hurting me too much. I closed my eyes tiredly because even though I had slept far more than my required eight hours, I still felt emotionally exhausted. A knock echoed against my door and I kept my eyes shut.
âSweetheart... are you okay?â
Allieâs voice drifted into my room and I stayed silent for a few seconds because I didnât know if I could lie. So instead I just said,
âIâll be okay.â
The words came out weak. Automatic. The kind of answer people gave when they were very clearly not okay. Silence lingered on the other side of the door for a few seconds.
Far too long.
Then I heard the doorknob turn slowly before the door cracked open just enough for the hallway light to spill into my dark room.
âCan I come in?â
Allieâs voice was soft. Careful. Like she was afraid of breaking me even more and i kept my eyes closed for a few more seconds before giving the smallest nod. I heard her footsteps move across the room. Slow. Careful. The mattress dipped beside me a moment later. And even then I still didnât open my eyes because I knew what I probably looked like. Pathetic. My face had to be swollen. My head was pounding. My whole body felt too heavy to exist.
âHannah went to get food,â Allie said quietly after a few seconds of silence. âAnd some meds for your headache.â
I swallowed hard. Of course they noticed. They always noticed.
âYou missed morning practice,â she continued carefully. âAnd about... eight calls from Hayes.â
A small, miserable laugh escaped against the pillow.
âThat´s great.â
My voice came out muffled. Allie stayed quiet for a few seconds before asking:
âWas it your mom?â
My chest tightened instantly. I finally opened my eyes, staring at the dark room in front of me while I felt my throat close up all over again.
âI think she hates me.â
The answer slipped out before I could stop it.
And saying it out loud... hurt more than I expected.
Allie let out a quiet sigh beside me.
âHey.â Her hand touched my arm over the blanket. âDonât say that.â
âBut itâs true.â
My voice cracked at the end of the sentence.
âEverything she sees in me feels wrong.â I swallowed hard, trying to control the ridiculous tremble in my chin. âAlways wrong. Never enough. Never disciplined enough. Never focused enough.â Allieâs silence felt worse than any response. âItâs like Iâll never be enough after he died.â The words came out so quietly they almost got stuck in my throat.
But Allie heard them.
The room fell silent for a few seconds while I stared at the dark wall in front of me, desperately trying not to cry again. Because I was tired. Tired of feeling everything so intensely.
âY/n...â Her voice came out careful. Almost sad. âYour father dying destroyed your mother. But that doesnât mean she has the right to destroy you too.â
My jaw tightened immediately.
I knew that.
I knew it.
And even then, some part of me still kept begging for her approval like a desperate child.
âI just wanted her to look at me once...â My voice failed. âWithout looking disappointed.â
I felt Allieâs fingers gently stroking my arm over the blanket.
âI think your mom doesnât know how to look at anything without searching for flaws anymore.â
A weak laugh escaped me. Bitter.
âGreat. So I was literally raised by an emotional Olympic judge.â
Allie let out a small laugh through her nose too, but it died quickly. Because neither of us actually thought it was funny.
âShe took the person who mattered most to you and used him against you. I'm sorry, babe, but she's a bitch.â
A laugh slipped from my lips, and I covered my face as a muffled, restrained cry escaped me a second later. I rubbed at my burning eyes.
"I hate being so emotionally messed up, Allie. I feel so stupid."
Allie moved closer and gently bumped her shoulder against mine.
"You're not stupid," she said quietly. "You're hurt. There's a difference."
I let out a shaky breath, staring down at my hands.
"Then why does it feel like I keep making the same mistakes?"
"Because you care," she replied. "You always care too much about people who don't deserve that much power over you."
A bitter laugh escaped me.
"That's not exactly comforting."
"Maybe not." She shrugged. "But it's true."
âBut what if sheâs right?â
The question came out small and hesitant, just like my mother's voice had lived inside my head for years.
Allie stayed quiet for a few seconds before answering:
âYou wanna know what I think?â I didnât answer. Just squeezed my eyes shut tighter. "I think youâre so used to living like you have to earn love that you donât even notice when youâre already loved.â
That made me slowly open my eyes.
âWho do you love, babe?â
The question made me look up at my friend, a frown immediately pulling at my brows as I shrugged.
âWhat do you mean?â
I sounded genuinely confused, and an impatient sigh slipped from her lips.
âI love you. I love my parents. I love the way Dean makes me feel. Who do you love?â
âI love you. I love HannahâŚâ
I stopped for a second.
My heart immediately supplied his name.
Screamed it.
Screamed for his eyes, his smile, the way he looked at me when he thought I wasn't paying attention.
âI don't know,â I murmured, forcing indifference into my voice as I looked back at her. Allie narrowed her eyes.
âDo you love Logan, or do you love the way he makes you feel?â
My stomach twisted.
âLogan and I are nothing.â
The words sounded hollow even to me. Allie stared at me for a moment before shaking her head.
âWhat happened between you and Logan, sweetheart? I heard Dean say you ran out crying yesterday morning before that demonic practice.â
âWe fought.â I shrugged, trying to sound unaffected. âWe don't work together.â
âThat's not what I asked.â
I looked away. The silence stretched between us.
âThen what are you asking?â
She sighed again, softer this time.
âI'm asking why every time his name comes up, you look like you're trying to survive something.â
My throat tightened. I hated how easily she could see through me.
âBecause he's complicated.â
âNo.â She leaned forward. âBecause you care.â
I laughed bitterly.
âThat's the same thing.â
âIt's really not.â
For a moment, neither of us spoke. Then she tilted her head.
âTell me something.â
âWhat?â
âIf Logan walked through that door right now and told you he wanted you, would you say no?â
My heart stumbled. And that alone was answer enough. A tired laugh escaped through my nose as I turned my face further into the pillow.
âYou donât know. We seriously canât stand each other.â
âThatâs not true. Iâve seen the way he looks at you, which honestly makes it ridiculous that we ever thought he was in love with Hannah because look at you two...you fight like an old married couple.â
That pulled a weak laugh out of me even through the emotional exhaustion. Small. Pathetic. But real.
âWe do not fight like an old married couple,â I mumbled into the pillow. Allie let out an unconvinced âmhm.â
âSweetheart, I saw you two arguing four times in one week at Maloneâs alone, and you were fighting about milkshake flavors like youâd been married fifteen years and were on the verge of divorce.â
I rolled my eyes immediately.
âHe always starts it.â
âExactly the kind of thing an old married couple would say.â
Another small laugh escaped me before dying quickly.
âIâm nothing to him, Allie.â
âBut do you want to be?â
The question hung in the air just as the door slowly opened and Hannah walked in, a gentle smile already on her face.
âI brought cinnamon rolls because I know theyâre your favorite.â
She lifted the paper bag. That earned a genuine smile from me.
A real one.
Apparently real enough to make Hannah dramatically sigh from the doorway.
âOh my God,â she gasped, pressing a hand against her chest. âShe still knows how to smile.â
I rolled my eyes.
âShut up,â I muttered weakly.
âThatâs it! Sarcasm too! Weâre getting vital signs back!â Hannah celebrated, lifting the cinnamon rolls like a trophy. Allie laughed quietly beside me while Hannah sat at the edge of the bed. The sweet smell instantly filled the room. It was the first good thing Iâd felt in the last twenty-four hours.
âYou look like an emotional corpse,â Hannah commented calmly while opening the package.
âThanks. That really helped my self-esteem.â
âYouâre welcome,â she replied in the same tone before finally taking a better look at me. And her expression softened immediately. âHey...â
Damn it. I hated that hey because it always came when someone realized I was about to fall apart. I quickly looked away before my eyes burned again.
âI know this is probably a bad time, but do either of you know why I saw Logan punching one of the football players in front of the Delta Pi fraternity?â
My entire body froze the second I heard his name come out of Hannahâs mouth so casually. Like it hadnât just split something open right in the middle of everything I was already trying to hold together.
âWhat?â My voice came out low. Automatic.
Hannah frowned, resting her elbows on the mattress.
âI was walking back here and saw it. He was... out of control.â She paused, choosing her words carefully. âHe punched the guy for real. Not hockey fighting. Just straight-up with his fist.â
Allie shifted beside me.
âWhy?â
Hannah shrugged, but she didnât look comfortable.
âI donât know. The guy was laughing, saying something to his friends, and then Logan just...snapped. It happened fast.â
I stayed still for too long. Long enough to notice the sound of my own breathing, too shallow, too wrong.
âHe... snapped?â I repeated more quietly than I intended. Hannah nodded slowly, absentmindedly messing with the cinnamon roll packaging.
âThatâs what it looked like.â She hesitated. âBut it wasnât just losing his temper. It was... weird. He saw the guy, froze for a second, then went straight for him. Didnât even say anything.â
Allie frowned.
âAnd nobody stopped him before that?â
âDean tried, but it was too late,â Hannah answered. âThe guy dropped immediately. I think he broke his nose, maybe.â
My stomach twisted.
âOh shit, here...â Allie suddenly sat up straighter, staring at her phone. âJules posted the guy on the ground on her story.â
Her nose wrinkled.
âHe definitely broke more than just a nose.â
Despite myself, I pushed myself up in bed.
âLet me see.â
Allie handed me her phone.
The second I saw the picture, I closed my eyes and dragged a hand down my face.
âWhat the fuck, Logan?â
The guy looked awful. I shoved the phone back toward her.
âThat guy danced with me at the Delta Pi party the night before last.â
My voice came out quieter now.
âHe wanted to take me home.â
The atmosphere in the room shifted instantly.
Allie lowered her phone.
Hannah's entire posture straightened.
âAnd Logan lost his mind because the guy put something in my drink.â
The memory hit harder than I expected. I swallowed.
âI got kind of out of it.â
My fingers twisted nervously in the blanket.
âI said a bunch of things to him afterward and...â
I laughed softly. Without humor.
âHonestly, he freaked out and I... I freaked out too. We ended up arguing because we kept saying we weren't even boyfriend and girlfriend, and he was yelling about how irresponsible I was, and it pissed me off. I know what happened was bad, and I hate that it happened...I feel awful about it...but he was still being a complete asshole.â Neither of them laughed. That made me look up. Hannah was staring at me. Not judging. Not teasing. Just staring. Like she wasn't quite sure what to say. I hated that look. So before she could say anything, I reached over and squeezed her hand. âI'm okay.â
My voice softened.
âI was being careful, I swear.â I shrugged. âI knew he was watching me. That's why I accepted the drink from the guy.â
For some reason, that only made their expressions worse.
âDid you tell him that?â Hannah asked.
I sat up uncomfortably in the sheets under the weight of both their stares. Suddenly, sitting between my two best friends felt a lot like being put on trial. I sighed.
âI did!â I paused, embarrassed like an old lady whoâd just been caught watching porn. â...along with a bunch of other things.â I said, immediately lowering my gaze as the rest of the words slipped out of my mouth. The second the words left my mouth, Hannah and Allie exchanged a look. A very specific look. One that immediately made me suspicious. âWhat?â
Neither of them answered.
âWhat?â Hannah blinked. âY/N.â
âWhat?â
âHow dare you sit there and tell us you're nothing to him?â I groaned.
âYou guys don't understand.â
âNo, seriously.â She pointed at me. âYou literally just told us a guy slipped something into your drink.â
âYes, he did.â
âYou told us you were barely coherent.â
âI know.â
âAnd Logan saw it happen. And then he spent the rest of the night taking care of you.â Feeling my head spin, I dropped my head back against the headboard.
âI know, Hannah.â
Her expression softened. A beat passed before she spoke again.
âThen maybe he freaked out because he thought something could've happened to you.â The room fell quiet. And the worst part?
She was right.
I knew she was.
Because I remembered.
I remembered exactly how Logan had looked at me that morning. Like he couldn't decide whether to pull me into his arms or put his fist through a wall. I remembered his hands framing my face when I could barely keep my eyes open. The way he kept saying my name. Over and over. The fear in his eyes. And somehow that was so much worse than anger. Because anger was familiar. Anger was easy. But someone caring about me that much? That terrified me.
âI should probably apologize, I know,â I muttered after a moment. âBut that still doesnât change the fact that he was an asshole for calling me stupid first thing in the morning.â
âDefinitely,â Allie agreed.
âAbsolutely,â Hannah added. I snorted despite myself. The corner of Hannahâs mouth twitched.
âMaybe.â
I stared up at the ceiling. For some reason, my chest felt weirdly heavy. Allie noticed immediately, one eyebrow arching.
âBut you...â
I looked at her, startled, just as she crossed her arms.
âWhat horrible things did you say to him? Or was he the only one competing for Worst Person Alive?â
I winced. Because, damn it. She had a point. Hannah caught my reaction instantly.
âYeah, he was an asshole, but he was trying to take care of you. So what exactly did you say to him?â Hannah continued. âOh my God.â She pointed at me like sheâd just cracked a murder case. âYou said something awful.â
âYou both know I cry when I get angry, so at that point all the oxygen in my brain was completely inaccessible.â
âYou cry when you're happy, when you're sad, when you're angry, sweetheart. You definitely said something horrible, didn't you?â Allie said, already grinning.
âI really donât want to talk about it.â
âWhat did you say?â Hannah asked without missing a beat.
âIt doesnât matter.â
âWhat. Did. You. Say.â
I groaned and yanked the blanket up to my nose.
âStop torturing me. John Logan and I donât work together. Thatâs a fact.â
I muttered the words before sitting up and taking a large bite of my cinnamon roll.
âI need to get back on the ice. I have to make up for the practice I missed this morning.â I was already chewing as I stood and started searching for one of my training outfits buried somewhere in the disaster zone that was my room.
At this point, keeping busy was basically a defense mechanism. If I looked productive enough, maybe nobody would notice I was emotionally imploding.
âOkay,â Allie muttered. The tone made me suspicious, but I ignored it. A minute later, I was changing clothes and braiding my hair in front of the mirror.
âNow that you've apparently risen from the dead...â Hannah said casually from the bed. I let out a huff, because we all knew I hadn't exactly completed my miraculous resurrection yet. I narrowed my eyes at her reflection. Dangerous opening. âSummer break starts next week.â Yep. Definitely a trap.
âDean mentioned his parents are traveling somewhere way too far for him to join because of upcoming games,â she continued. âSo he suggested we spend the weekend at their beach house in Delaware. Theyâre not renting it out or anything.â I slowly turned around.
âDelaware? No fucking way.â Allie immediately threw her head back with a dramatic groan.
âOh, come on. It'll be fun.â
âSure.â I snorted. âFun for you two, maybe. You'll spend the entire weekend having sex. Also, since when are you and Dean official?â
âThis isn't about me,â Allie replied way too fast.
I narrowed my eyes. Suspicious.
âAnd Iâm supposed to spend a weekend trapped in a house full of hockey players and John Logan.â
âI actually think it could be good for you,â Hannah said more gently. âBut if you donât want to go, that's fine. Really. It's just... other people are coming too. We'll share a room. Do girl stuff. No pressure.â
Allie immediately nodded and practically launched herself across the bed.
âPlease. It'll be so fun.â She stuck out her lower lip dramatically. âI won't be able to enjoy myself knowing you stayed here alone while Will roams freely around campus.â
âYou two talk about Will like he's a sociopath.â
âBecause he is.â
âHe's not a serial killer, Allie.â
âNo.â She shrugged. âHe just destroys peopleâs self-esteem as a hobby, which honestly might be worse.â My jaw tightened.
Because, unfortunately...She wasn't wrong. Will's cruelty wasn't loud. That was what made it worse.
It came disguised as jokes. Casual comments. Looks. Tiny little digs that were easy to dismiss individually but impossible to ignore altogether. And after the conversation with my mother, I had absolutely no energy left for someone else making me feel inadequate. Hannah noticed my silence right away.
âThatâs exactly why you should go,â she said softly. âYouâre really going to spend the whole summer here listening to that asshole?â
I let out a quiet huff while finishing my second braid.
âIâll survive.â
âAllie literally found you crying in the bathroom after that Sigma Chi party,â Hannah reminded me.
I immediately squeezed my eyes shut.
âJesus Christ, Hannah.â
âWhat?â She shrugged. âItâs true. He acts like competing with you is an Olympic event.â
âBecause he's obsessed and weird,â Allie added. âAnd Iâm definitely not relaxing in Delaware knowing you stayed here getting emotionally attacked by a golden retriever with an ego problem.â
A laugh escaped me before I could stop it.
Weak, reluctant, but real.
âYou two dramatize everything.â
âYou normalize horrible things,â Hannah shot back instantly.
That made me go quiet.
Because... damn it.
She was right too.
I finished tying my sneakers slowly while feeling both of them watching me.
âItâs not just about Will,â Hannah said more quietly now. âI think you need to breathe for a little while. Like... exist without training, without pressure, without your mother, without pretending youâre okay.â
I swallowed hard immediately. Because sheâd hit too close to the truth. I looked down at my bag on the floor, trying to organize my thoughts. Rolling my eyes, I grabbed it.
âI hate when you two make sense.â
Allie smiled instantly.
âSo that was a maybe?â
âThat was a âlet me survive practice first.ââ
âIâm counting that as progress,â Hannah answered, satisfied.
I shook my head while walking toward the door. But before I left, Allie spoke more softly:
âYou deserve to be in places where people donât make you feel small all the time, sweetheart.â
My hand tightened around the doorknob instantly. Because after my mother... after Will... after years of trying to earn space...I honestly didnât even know what that felt like anymore. That same afternoon, in the suffocating silence of my room, I did the worst possible thing for someone emotionally unstable:
I picked up my phone. My thumb hovered over Loganâs contact for far too long. I wanted to apologize. I wanted to talk to him. I wanted to hear his voice, feel his presence, see that stupid smile that somehow managed to annoy me and calm me down at the same time. And I hated myself for wanting any of that.
Because I shouldn't.
John Logan wasn't mine.
I wouldn't be good for him. He's too complicated, and so am I. We'd only make things worse. He had never been mine. And he never would be. The messages. The teasing. The ridiculous voice notes. The replies that always came too fast. The way his name had quietly become part of my routine before I even realized it. And somehow, that made everything worse. My chest tightened painfully. Because maybe my mother had been right about one thing. I ruined everything I touched. I swallowed hard and started typing before I could talk myself out of it.
Me:
Ty for taking care of me when u didn't have to. And... sry for what I said.
This fake dating thing really messed w my head.
I stared at the screen for several seconds after sending it. My heart was beating so hard it was genuinely irritating. Then, before I could overthink it. Before I could delete the message. Before I could wait for a reply. I deleted his contact. Because honestly? That felt easier than facing whatever came next.
English isn't my first language, so pls go easy on me.
I feel like this chapter wasn't much, but I really love the depth of the friendship that's been building between them.
I honestly thought I'd be able to post 2 more chapters for u guys today, but it's so late here đ
Summary: You were walking into the hockey house with your friends, Hannah and Allie. Your brother, Garrett Graham, lived here with his teammates and friends. John Tucker, John Logan and Dean Di Laurentis.You all attend Briar University (Briar U). The guys had won a game tonight, which meant that it was party time at the house, the house was packed with people. More specifically, Puck Bunnies.
Warnings: Phil Graham, anxiety/panic attacks mentioned and described, sex(not this part), abuse
The next morning, Dean is already awake and dressed, sitting on the edge of your bed with his elbows on his knees. He watches you stretch and yawn, his eyes roaming over your small frame in his large shirt.
You see him at the edge of your bed and smile, instantly regretting as you feel a sharp pain pulse behind your cheekbone.
His eyes narrow instantly at your wince, his protective instincts kicking into high gear. Heâs off the bed in an instant, moving to stand in front of you. âFuck⌠does it hurt?â He reaches out gently to touch your cheekbone, his thumb brushing lightly over the bruised area.
You nod, eyes filling up with tears again as everything from yesterday comes flooding back to your mind.
He doesnât hesitate. He pulls you into his chest, one hand cradling the back of your head, shielding your bruised cheek from the fabric of his shirt. âShh, I got you. I got you, baby doll.â His voice is rough, low, meant only for you. The other hand rubs soothing circles on your back as your body shakes against his.
You felt broken, out of place. You grip onto his forearm in pure need. You just needed his comfort.
Dean feels your desperate grip on his arm, and it makes his heart ache. He knows youâre not just crying about the pain right now-youâre crying about everything that happened. About feeling violated and scared and hurt.
Once you finally calm down, you realise that you probably had a lecture and he probably had hockey practice. âYou need to go to practice Dean, thank you for watching over me but I donât want to be the reason you get in trouble with coach!â You say frantically.
He shakes his head immediately, cutting you off with a stern look. There is absolutely no way he is leaving you alone right now, especially not looking like this-bruised, swollen, and terrified. âPractice can wait. Coach can wait.â He takes your hands in his, his expression serious. âIâm not leaving you alone in this state. End of discussion.â That makes you melt.
Dean has never been soft like this. Heâs normally off sticking his tongue down a puck bunnyâs throat or nailing drills at practice with Garrett, Logan and Tuck.
But instead, heâs here with you.
He knows it. He knows the reputation he has-arrogant, commitment-phobic, always chasing the next adrenaline rush or the next girl. But looking at you, battered and fragile in his oversized shirt, that version of him ceases to exist.
âIâm right here. Not going anywhere.â He presses a gentle kiss to your forehead, his large hands grounding you.
Your heart flutters in your chest. You never thought youâd see this side of Dean. Ever. But low and behold, here he is, with me, not caring if he gets shouted at or chastised by coach.
Dean hears a buzz from his phone. He ignores it at first, keeping his focus entirely on you as he gently brushes your hair back. But when it persists, vibrating against the nightstand, he sighs heavily and reaches over. He glances at the screen-Garrett, Logan, and Tuck blowing up the group chat asking where he is. âItâs the guys.â
You feel guilty for keeping him here. âSeriously Dean, answer them and go to practice. Iâll be okay I promise.â You say grabbing his hand in yours, squeezing in reassurance.
Dean looks like he thinks hard. âAre you sure?â He says, looking in your eyes. He hates it but he really does have to go.
He hesitates, torn between his responsibility to his teammates and his overwhelming urge to stay here and protect you from your thoughts. After a few seconds of internal debate, he nods slowly, deciding that youâre right-he canât skip practice. Not even for this, which he desperately wants to. âIf you need anything, call me. Immediately. I mean it.â
âI will.â You nod, squeezing his arm. âGo before you get into more trouble.â
He smirks. âTroubleâs my middle name, baby doll.â That makes your face heat up.
He leans down quickly, pressing a soft kiss to your cheek before standing up. His smirk grows wider at your blush, enjoying the rare moment of vulnerability he sees in you. âIâll be back as soon as practice is over. Donât open the door for anyone but me.â
You nod. After heâs out the door, you lift your fingers to where he kissed your cheek. Then the silence hits you. You decide that staying here alone wasnât enough, so you grabbed your bag and phone and headed out your dorm and towards your safe space.
You need music, not silence that allows your mind to wander back to yesterdayâs horror. The walk across campus is quiet, students bustling around, but you keep your head down, hiding behind sunglasses despite the overcast sky.
When you reach the music building, you head straight for an empty practice room, closing the door behind you. For the first time in hours, you can breathe.
You see the piano in the corner of the room and smile softly. You walk over to it and sit down on the bench. You run your fingers over some of the keys and close your eyes, taking a deep breath in. You start to play; you just let your fingers move across the keys. Feeling serenity swell inside you. Pure peace.
Meanwhile, at practice, Deanâs mind keeps drifting back to you. Heâs usually the life of the locker room, cracking jokes and showing off his skills on the ice. Today, heâs quiet, distracted. Coach notices and calls him out during a drill. âDi Laurentis! Head in the game!â
âSorry coach!â He grunts, in frustration. He needed to get his head out of his ass.
âShe is fine.â
He shakes his head, physically forcing the thoughts of you away, locking them down in the box in his mind to deal with later. He slams his stick to the ice, channelling his aggression into the drill. He skates harder, faster, checking Garrett into the boards with a loud thud that echoes through the rink. âFocus, Dean.â He tells himself sharply.
Garrett gets up and puts a hand on Deanâs shoulder, âDude, as your captain, Iâm saying get your head in the game. I know yesterday was⌠tough but this is your chance to get some frustration out.â
âYouâre right, I know.â Dean runs a hand through his sweaty hair, taking a deep breath. âIâm good, I promise.â Garrett studies him carefully but seems to buy it. Dean joins back into the play, scoring two goals in quick succession.
Meanwhile, melodic music flows through the practice room, you were in another world playing.
Practice goes on for another hour. Dean pushes himself harder than usual, taking out his frustrations on the ice. When it finally ends, heâs drenched in sweat and breathing heavily. He grabs his stuff quickly, ignoring the curious looks from his teammates. âSee you guys back at the house.â
âWhat the hell is going on with him?â Logan asks rhetorically. Dean heads back to the house to shower and clean up.
He grabs his phone and checks in with you.
Dean: hey, howâre you holding up?
Your phone buzzes but you donât hear it over the piano.
When you donât answer immediately, anxiety spikes in his chest. He knows he told you to call if you needed anything, but silence scares him right now. He hops into the shower, scrubbing off the practice sweat in record time, throwing on fresh jeans and a hoodie. In the music room, youâre completely lost in the melody, your fingers dancing effortlessly.
He gets to your dorm room and knocks on the door, not hearing anything inside he realises the one place he thought you could be. The music building.
He strides across campus and starts to hear a beautiful sound coming from one of the rooms.
He follows the music, the melody pulling him like a magnet. When he finds the right room, he cracks the door open slightly and see you-sunk into the piano bench, eyes closed, completely immersed in the music. You look peaceful, the first real peace heâs seen on you since yesterday. He leans against the doorframe, watching silently.
As if you feel his presence, you look up and lock eyes with him. Your heart flutters with joy, comfort, relaxation. You smile at him softly.
âHi.â You say timidly.
His heart literally skips a beat at your timid âhiâ and the soft smile that accompanies it. For the first time today-hell, for the first time since yesterday-he feels like he can actually breathe. He pushes off from the doorframe and walks over slowly, âHey.â
As he gets closer, you feel the tension in the air grow thicker.
âThank you. For yesterday. I wouldnât have calmed down if it wasnât for you.â You say sincerely, standing from the bench and stepping closer to him.
He stops right in front of you, his eyes softening. He looks at you, really looks at you, for the first time today. No ice rink distractions, no teammates, just⌠you. He swallows hard before speaking, âYouâre welcome.â His voice is low, genuine.
You look up at him. Your heart beating rapidly against your rib cage. You lift a hand and place it on his chest and let out a content sigh.
He stills under your touch, his breath catching in his throat. His hands hover at his sides, fighting every instinct to pull you closer. He wants to-god, he wants to-but he also doesnât want to scare you off. He covers your hand on his chest with his own, pressing it gently against him. âYou sure youâre okay?â
You nod, lifting your other hand to run your fingers through his blonde hair. âBetter now.â You lean in closer.
His eyes drop to your lips, his breathing growing heavier. Every rational thought in his head screams that this is a terrible idea-taking advantage, crossing lines, youâre clearly vulnerable. But then your fingers curl in his hair and heâs lost. âYou donât know what youâre doing to me right now.â
âJust shut up and kiss me, Dean.â You say breathlessly, getting impossibly closer to his warm body.
The words leave your lips in a whisper, but they crack through his resolve like a sledgehammer. He doesnât need any more permission. He cups your face with one large hand, tilting your head back as he bends down, closing the final distance. The kiss is soft at first-tentative, reverent. Like heâs kissing something precious.
And then the hunger sets in. You both move frantically, hands grabbing onto clothes and caressing of hair. He walks you backwards towards the piano, gently lifting you onto it.
He hoists you effortlessly onto the polished wood of the piano, the instrument groaning softly under the added weight. He steps between your legs, his hands gripping your waist, pulling you flush against him as the kiss deepens, turning hungry and desperate. Every touch feels electric, a desperate need to feel, to claim, to reassure. He breaks away just long enough to breathe.
âAre you sure about this?â He asks breathlessly. Consent is key. Consent is sexy. You nod, âNever been so sure of anything before in my life.â Finally, youâve given in.
He grins, âMe either, baby doll.â Immediately going back to kissing you.
He grins against your lips before diving back in, his hands sliding from your waist to your hips, lifting you slightly so he can step even closer. His tongue sweeps into your mouth, tasting you deeply as his hands squeeze your hips possessively. He pulls back just enough to start trailing kisses along your jawline, âSo fucking beautiful.â
You heart beats impossibly faster, you let out a tiny moan, which in hand makes him let out a guttural moan himself.
His guttural moan vibrates against your jaw, his hands squeezing your hips tighter as he hears the soft sounds coming from you. He kisses back up to your mouth, swallowing your moans greedily. His fingers start to walk upwards along your sides, teasingly brushing against your ribs. âShhâŚâ
You run your fingers over his back, feeling the muscles, you slip a hand under his hoodie and push it up to signal him to take it off.
He breaks away from the kiss briefly to pull off his hoodie in one smooth motion, revealing his toned chest and abs. He tosses the garment aside carelessly before pulling you flush against him again, his warm skin pressing against yours. His hands immediately go back to your waist, pulling you impossibly closer.
His breath hitches as your fingers trace the happy trail leading down into his jeans. He captures your wrist gently but firmly, stopping your hand before it goes any lower. His forehead rests against yours, eyes dark with desire and a hint of warning. âNot yet, baby doll.â
As much fun as this was, he needed to stop before he took you right here on this piano. You deserved more than a dingy practice room.
His self-control is hanging by a thread, but the thought of treating you like some random hookup makes him pause. He kisses you softly again, his hands gripping your hips possessively. âNot like this⌠not here. You deserve better than a fuck on a piano.â
You feel adoration bubble up your chest. And jump down from the piano. âThank you.â
âYou need to quit thanking me. I havenât done anything.â He says wrapping his arms around your waist.
He holds you securely against his chest, resting his chin on top of your head. Despite his denial, he knows he stopped things from going too far, protecting you in a moment where you were vulnerable. âI stopped us from making a mistake in a practice room. That the bare minimum, baby doll.â He presses a kiss to your hair. âCâmon.â
He picks up your bag after tugging his hoodie back on. He ushers you out the door. âLetâs go back to the house, the guys will be there which means Hannah will definitely be there.â He says leading you to his jeep.
He opens the passenger door of his jeep for you, tossing your bag into the backseat before helping you climb in. He rounds the front and slides into the driverâs seat, starting the engine. The atmosphere shifts from heated intimacy back to protective boyfriend-mode. âYou okay?â He checks, glancing over as he pulls out of the parking lot.
You nod and sit contentedly the whole journey.
Once you arrive you get out and head to the front door with him. You had forgotten about the bruise on your face and realised that no one else knew apart from Garrett and Dean. So, you werenât shocked when you entered the door and everyone stared in shock.
The conversation dies instantly when you and Dean walk in, everyoneâs eyes widening as they take in the purple bruise on your cheekbone. Loganâs mouth actually drops open. Hannah gasps and covers her mouth. âHoly shit, what happened?!â She says quietly, moving towards you immediately.
You own eyes widen; you look at Garrett for some help.
Garrettâs jaw clenches but he stays quiet, giving you a slight nod-letting you know he trusts you to handle this. Dean steps forward automatically, his arm wrapping protectively around your waist as if daring anyone to ask questions.
Hannah is already pulling you into a gentle hug, careful not to squeeze too hard. âDid someone hit you?â She whispers in your ear.
You shake your head. âI tripped last night when I got out of bed to go to the bathroom.â You said lying expertly (Thank you Allie), no one batting an eyelid.
Hannahâs expression softens with concern, but she doesnât doubt your story. Logan and the other teammates exchange sceptical glances, but no one calls you out on the lie.
Garrett releases a subtle sigh of relief that you handled this smoothly. âYou okay?â
You nod. You look over at Tucker, âOoo Tuck, what are you preparing today?â You walk over to the kitchen where Tucker was cheffing it up.
Tucker grins at you, clearly happy for the distraction from the tense atmosphere. He turns back to his cooking, stirring something that smells delicious. âLasagna tonight.â He says over his shoulder. âWith garlic bread and salad.â He glances at you with a warm smile. âYou hungry?â
âOoo I never thought youâd ask. I could never turn down a John Tucker 5-star meal.â You say grateful for the distraction. And it did smell amazing.
Tucker laughs softly, shaking his head as he continues to cook. The tension from earlier dissipates as the room fills with the aroma of lasagna and garlic bread. Dean stays by your side, his hand resting possessively on your lower back as he keeps a close eye on you. âYou okay?â
âMmhm.â You hum, subconsciously leaning into him.
He presses a kiss to your temple, his thumb rubbing small circles on your hip. The rest of the house slowly returns to normal-Logan bickering with Beau, Hannah whispering to Garrett, Tucker humming along to music. Just as the domestic peace settles, a knock sounds at the front door.
âIâll get it.â Garrett says walking towards the door. It opens to reveal a girl.
The girl stands there for a moment, her eyes scanning the room until they land on Dean. She smiles brightly, her long blonde hair cascading down her back. âDean.â She purrs, walking in without an invitation. She completely ignores everyone else; her gaze fixed on him.
You feel like youâve been stabbed by a hot knife in your chest. Obviously, you know that Dean is the casual type but after the moment you shared earlier it hurts seeing one of his âpuck bunniesâ.
Dean goes rigid behind you, his hand tightening on your hip. His jaw clenches as the blonde girl strides past everyone like she owns the place, stopping right in front of him. She wraps her arms around his waist immediately, pressing herself against him. âBaby, I missed you,â she coos, not even glancing at you standing right beside him.
Thank you so much for all the love on this series so far, I have a lot of ideas so stay tuned :) <3
Summary: You were walking into the hockey house with your friends, Hannah and Allie. Your brother, Garrett Graham, lived here with his teammates and friends. John Tucker, John Logan and Dean Di Laurentis.You all attend Briar University (Briar U). The guys had won a game tonight, which meant that it was party time at the house, the house was packed with people. More specifically, Puck Bunnies.
Warnings: Phil Graham, anxiety/panic attacks mentioned and described, sex(not this part), abuse
Dean stumbles back slightly, genuinely surprised by the sudden shove and the panic in your voice. His easy-going smirk vanishes instantly, replaced by sharp alertness as he watches you bolt. Recognising the shouting-Phil Grahamâs booming, aggressive tone is unmistakable-Deanâs expressions hardens. He doesnât hesitate, sprinting after you, his long legs quickly eating up the distance.
You get to where the noise was coming from and see your dad has Garrett pinned to the tunnel wall.
âDad, stop!â You say cautiously, scared of what heâll do. Youâve never stood up to him before. Heâs never hit you before, but heâs damn well tried, Garrett took the blows for you.
Phil whips around, his face red, veins bulging in his neck. His grip on Garrettâs jersey doesnât loosen. When he sees you, his eyes flash with something-disgust? Disappointment? âYou.â He spits the word like venom. âCanât even bother to show up to your brotherâs games. Useless.â
You saw red. âExcuse me? I am busy busting my ass trying to keep my scholarship to this university because you decided to cut me off, thatâs why I canât show up!â Your blood boils through your body, youâd never snapped at him like this.
Garrett sees the fire in your eyes and looks surprised but also proud. Phil, however, looks absolutely furious. His hand tightens on Garrettâs jersey before he suddenly throws him back against the wall. âWatch your tone with me, girl.â
You take a daring step forward, âLet him go.â You say through clenched teeth.
Phil laughs, but itâs cold and sinister. He turns his full attention on you, taking a step closer. âOr what? You tell me what to do? You couldnât even play the game like a real hockey player. Soft. Weak. Just like your mother.â His words are designed to cut, to make you feel small. âStay in your lane.â
Your blood hits boiling point, you are tired of being made to feel small.
âDo. Not. Talk. About. My. Mom!â You shout, losing your temper and before you even think you lift you hand and it collides with his cheek.
Your eyes widen as he closes his eyes. The sound of the slap echoes through the tunnel.
Philâs head snaps to the side, his hand flying up to his cheek. Silence falls, deafening. Garrettâs eyes are wide with shock. Dean, having just caught up, stops dead in his tracks, stunned.
âI-um Iâm sorry, I d-didnât me-.â You couldnât get the words out of your throat.
Phil slowly turns his head back to face you. His eyes are no longer just angry; they are terrifyingly dark, black almost. He touches his cheek, looking down at his hand as if checking for blood. Before you can even take another breath, his hand shoots out, grabbing a fistful of your hair and yanking you towards him.
âYou want to put your hands on me?â You screech in pain, grabbing frantically at his hand to release your hair.
Garrett immediately tries to intervene, shouting, âDad, stop!â but Phil throws him off with one arm, keeping his iron grip on your hair. The pain is blinding as Phil forces your hand back, exposing your neck. âYou think youâre tough?â He spits in your face. âYou think you can disrespect me?â He raises his other hand.
You feel the white-hot pain hitting your cheek. You fall to the ground, the sound around you muffled.
Before he could get caught, Phil walks off as if nothing happened, no one knowing of this abuse you and Garrett have endured your whole life.
Garrett immediately drops to his knees beside you, his face pale. âFuck fuck fuck.â He tries to gently check your face, but you flinch away. Behind him, Dean stands frozen in horror, having just witnessed something truly awful.
All you can hear is muffled voices and your vision is blurry. Your ears ring.
Heâs never hit you before.
Garrettâs voice is gentle but urgent as he tries to figure out if youâre okay. âCan you look at me? Fuck, answer me.â He carefully touches your shoulder, but you donât react. Behind him, Dean finally snaps out of it and kneels down on your other side.
âY/n? Dean help me get her up, letâs bring her to the locker room.â Garrett says hopefully. Once there, they place you gently down onto one of the benches.
Dean immediately starts checking your pupils while Garrett removes his jersey to press against the rapidly swelling cut on your cheekbone. Your eyes are glazed over, not focusing on anything. Garrett swallows hard. âSheâs in shock.â
You feel empty. Scared. Shocked.
You suddenly come to your senses and feel your breath disappear. Remembering the years of shouting, seeing your dad wash the blood off of his knuckles and remembering sitting with your dying mom as she died of internal bleeding.
The memories come flooding back like a tidal wave-your motherâs broken voice telling you to âBe strong, my darling,â The smell of antiseptic and blood. You start sobbing violently, great heaving cries that wrack your entire body. You canât breathe, gasping for air⌠a panic attack.
âOh god not againâ
Garrett and Dean exchange a frightened glance, realising the extent of your breakdown. Garrett holds one of your hands tightly, his thumb rubbing soothing circles while Dean gently strokes your hair. âHey, hey, breathe with me, okay? In through your nose, out through your mouth. Just focus on my voice.â
You hear Deanâs muffled voice; you frantically reach for his hand with your other hand. Once you find it you squeeze it to high heaven.
Deanâs hand immediately wraps around yours, squeezing back in comfort. He exchanges a knowing look with Garrett-they both understand that youâre anchoring yourself to them, seeking comfort and security in their presence. Deanâs voice becomes softer, more soothing. âIâm right here with you.â
You start listening to his instructions of breathing. You start to just sob, feeling the adrenaline leave you and feeling the pain in your head from where Phil grabbed your hair and also the white-hot pain in your cheek.
Garrett carefully removes his jersey from your face, revealing the already purple and swollen cheekbone, a deep cut along the line of it. Dean watches your eyes and sees the trauma there-the thousand-yard stare of someone whoâs lived through hell. Without thinking, he leans down and presses the gentlest kiss to your forehead. âYouâre okay now. Heâs gone.â
Garrett thinks nothing of this, too busy worrying about you. âWhat were you thinking?!â Garrett says loudly. You flinch, Dean notices.
He puts a hand on Garrettâs chest, âDude⌠not now.â Dean mutters. Garrett immediately shuts his mouth, looking guilty. He runs a hand through his hair frustrated, remembering your tender state. Dean pushes a few loose strands of hair out of your face, his touch gentle. âSheâs had enough trauma for one day. You yelling at her isnât helping.â
You relax into Deanâs touch, his scent coming back to your nose and calming you.
âI wanna go back to the dormâŚâ You say quietly, exhausted.
Dean looks at Garrett for permission, but Garrett just nods. Heâs still torn up about the yelling but doesnât have the energy to fight. Dean gently scoops you up, one arm under your knees, the other supporting your back. âI got you, baby doll.â You instinctively curl into him, burying your face in his chest, blocking out the world. Garrett grabs his keys.
You get placed gently in Garrettâs car and stare out the window quietly. You pull your knees up to your chest and try not to think of the way your da- Phil grabbed and hit you.
Garrett gets into the driverâs seat, his jaw clenched tight as he starts the engine. Dean slides into the backseat beside you, refusing to leave you alone. He notices your defensive posture-knees pulled up, staring blankly out the window-and knows exactly where your mind has gone. He gently reaches over and rests a hand on your ankle, a grounding presence.
You flinch to begin with, but you settle down when you notice who it is. You let a tear drop as you grab a hold of his warm hand, not tearing your gaze from out the window.
The drive to the dorm is tense and silent. Garrettâs hands grip the steering wheel so tight his knuckles turn white. He keeps glancing in the rearview mirror at you, his expression pained. Dean just holds your hand, his thumb rubbing soothing circles on your skin, trying to keep you present.
Dean feels his chest tighten when you continue to have a death grip on his hand the whole way back to your dorm.
Dean doesnât pull away once. Instead, he squeezes your hand back just as tightly, silently promising that he isnât going anywhere. When Garrett finally parks the car near the dorm entrance, the engine cuts off, leaving a heavy silence. Dean glances at Garrett, who looks absolutely wrecked with guilt, before shifting his attention fully to you. âWeâre here, baby doll.â
You feel numb. Like the world is moving in slow motion. You slowly put your feet on the floor of the car and push the door open. You stumble a little, but feel strong arms encapsulate your waist before you could fall.
Deanâs arms are around you instantly, steadying you against his chest. He doesnât let go, practically carrying you the short distance from the car to the dorm building. Garrett rushes ahead to swipe them both in, holding the door open with trembling hands. Dean murmurs low and soft against your temple-comforting nonsense, really-just keeping you anchored.
Once you get to your dorm, you ensure your brother that you will be fine and that he will be too.
He hesitates but moves to give you a hug and then asks you to text him if you need anything. Soon heâs gone. And itâs just you and Dean.
The door clicks shut, leaving you alone with Dean in the quiet dimness of your dorm room. He doesnât push, doesnât demand-he just keeps his arms around you, feeling how you tremble against him. His hands slide up to cup your face, thumbs brushing away tears you didnât even realise were falling. âLook at me, baby doll. Just breathe.â
You listen, looking into his eyes, he anchors you.
âPlease donât leave.â You say with a wobble to your sentence. You donât care that you are âgiving in.â
All you needed was to be in Dean Di Laurentisâ arms to feel safe and secure. His heart breaks all over again hearing the fear in your voice. But then you ask him to stay, and something in his chest expands-a protective, nurturing instinct he didnât even know he possessed until this moment. âIâm not going anywhere.â
You change in the bathroom into his t-shirt he had on, you feel protected by his warmth and scent. You walk out and over to your bed where he was led on top of the sheets in just some sweatpants. You climb into bed under the sheets and move towards him, laying your head on his chiselled chest.
His arms automatically wrap around you as you snuggle into his chest. He can feel your small body trembling slightly against him. One hand starts gently stroking your hair while the other holds you firmly against him. His heart beats steadily under your ear, a soothing rhythm meant to calm you down.
He moves to turn the desk lamp off, but you stop him. âCan youâŚcan you leave it on?â
He feels his chest tighten again. He nods and leaves it, moving to make sure you are in the most comfortable position you can be right now.
He adjusts the pillows behind you, making sure youâre supported and comfortable. The soft glow of the desk lamp fills the room, casting a gentle light on your face. He lies down beside you, pulling you closer so that your bodies align perfectly, his strong arm tucked beneath your neck. âBetter?â
âBetter.â You say sleepily. Before you fall asleep you let out, âThank you, Dean.â
He hears the sleepy mumble and smiles softly, his thumb brushing through your hair. âAnytime, baby doll. JustâŚsleep. Youâre safe here. With me.â He presses a gentle kiss to the top of your head, inhaling your scent mixed with his.
The love on this means the world to me, I love writing and have always wanted to share my work with the world and I'm glad it's with this fandom :) <3 Let me know your thoughts! I am taking requests too, so ask away :)
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Summary: You were walking into the hockey house with your friends, Hannah and Allie. Your brother, Garrett Graham, lived here with his teammates and friends. John Tucker, John Logan and Dean Di Laurentis. You all attend Briar University (Briar U). The guys had won a game tonight, which meant that it was party time at the house, the house was packed with people. More specifically, Puck Bunnies.
Warnings: Phil Graham, anxiety/panic attacks mentioned, sex (not this part)
You hop off your bike and push it into the bike rack and lock it up with your chain. You head into your dorm room and close the door, pressing your back to the door. You take a fistful of Deanâs hoodie and bring it to your nose, your heart squishing in your chest and a smile on your face.
Back at the guyâs house, Dean is sitting on his bed, staring at the spot where you were not long stood. He shakes his head with a small chuckle, running a hand through his hair. He pulls out his phone and sends a text to your brother like youâd frantically asked him to.
Dean: Your sis says bye. Iâll be down in a bit, just having a joint.
Garrett: What? Where did she go? What did you do?
He smirks at the immediate response and blame, knowing heâs panicking internally.
Dean: I dinât do nothing
      she was just anxious at the party
      borrowed my hoodie and left
      sheâs fine calm down
Dean knows full well that G wonât be calmed down that easily.
G: Your hoodie?!! Dean you better have kept ur dick in ur pants!!!
D: G, chill. I dint touch her
  she was overwhelmed
so I brought her upstairs for some quiet
and she just ran, okay?
   I was being nice!!
Dean sits on his window ledge and opens the window, lighting a joint and inhaling the calm smoke into his lungs, instantly relaxing.
He exhales a thick cloud of smoke into the cool night air, watching it drift out the window and disappear into the darkness.
G: that better be the case otherwise Iâll beat ur ass (not now tho cause Iâm⌠occupied
Dean laughs softly at his phone screen before typing back one-handed, rolling his eyes and taking another drag.
D: you are pussy whipped bro
Garrett sends back a middle finger emoji, followed by a photo of him and Hannah in a compromising position. Dean laughs out loud, shaking his head.
D: alright alright, enjoy your night
Heâs successfully distracted your brother from worrying about you. Dean pulls your messages up.
Dean: got G off your back
      hope you got back okay
He finishes his joint, feeling a slight buzz. He flops on his bed waiting for you to type. He watches the three little dots bounce on the screen, his eyelids getting heavy as the buzz settles in. He stares at the message, actually waiting for you to reply, which is not like him at all. Finally, your text pops up.
You: Yeah Iâm back in my room safe. Thank you.
Dean smiles lazily at his phone, thumbs hovering over the screens keyboard.
D: no worries baby doll <3
You lay in the same position as him on your bed, holding your phone, smiling.
âWait⌠this is Dean. Notorious Playboy. You cannot fall for his tricks or flirtation.â
He sees the three little dots appearing and disappearing, his smile turns into a smirk as he types out a response, knowing heâs got you. He starts to type more, then stops himself, deciding not to push his luck. Instead, he sends a simple âgoodnight baby dollâ.
The next morning you awoke to your alarm blaring in your ear. You groan getting up and changing, not realising what youâd put on. Deanâs hoodieâŚ
Meanwhile Dean wakes up with a groan, his body disliking himself for the way he had fallen asleep. He rolls over and grabs his phone. He scrolls through the texts from last night-Garrettâs drunken nonsense and your brief exchange. A smirk crosses his face when he sees your name. He jumps up and gets dressed, grabbing his bag and rushing out the door.
Once you get to the lecture hall, you grab an empty seat and get your notebook out to take notes.
Dean walks into the lecture hall 10 minutes late, looking effortlessly dishevelled with his leather jacket slung over one shoulder, his eyes scanning the room until they land on you. He smirks, catching your gaze for a brief moment before sliding into the seat right behind you, his presence immediately filling the space. âMorning, baby doll.â
You take no notice of him even if the scent of him caught your next breath. You continue to take notes and listen to the professor, ignoring Dean behind you, as much as you can with the feeling of his breath against the back of your neck.
He leans forward after his jacket fell off his shoulder into the seat next to him. His arms crossing over his chest as he watches you. He purposefully keeps his voice low, letting his breath ghost over the back of your neck, his words meant only for you to hear.
âAre you ignoring me?â He asks right next to your ear causing you to let out a tiny gasp, you hide it with a slight cough, thankfully no one heard you. You take out your phone and start typing.
You: Iâm trying to listen. Stop distracting me.
His smirk grows wider as he sees the message pop up. He lets out a silent chuckle, before typing back quickly, his thumbs moving swiftly over the screen.
Dean: Canât even talk to me in person?
You: I need this grade, do not ruin this for me!
You press send and immediately put your phone down. Dean watches you put your phone down, his smirk softening into something more amused. He tilts his head, studying the way your shoulders tense and relax with each breath.
âBy the way⌠nice hoodieâŚâ
He leans back in his seat, pleased with himself, pulling out his phone-not to take notes, but to scroll through something else entirely. You huff, pulling the hoodie tighter around you. The rest of the lecture passes without incident, though his presence remains a constant hum behind you.
Once the lecture was over, you head out the door towards the music block.
âHey!â You hear behind you. You keep walking, not turning around. Dean jogs to catch up, matching your pace eventually. Again, his scent filled your nostrils. âYou gonna keep ignoring me all day?â He falls into step beside you, close enough that his arm nearly brushes yours with each stride. âIâm wounded, baby doll. Especially considering my chivalry last night lending you my favourite hoodie.â He teases, causing a glare to come from you.
âDonât you have hockey practice?â You know full well that he does as his hockey schedule is the same as Garrettâs and you know that like the back of your hand.
Deanâs lips twitch into a smirk at your knowledge of their schedule. He slows down slightly, letting you walk ahead a bit before catching up again. âYeah, I do. But that doesnât mean I canât talk to my favourite girl on campus for five minutes?â
You stop for a fraction of a second and turn to him with a confused look on your face. âFavourite girl? Iâm sorry donât you have a puck bunny waiting for you at the rink?â You say disgusted, partly. You like the sound of being his girl.
His eyebrows shoot up, something flickering in his dark eyes-surprise? Amusement? He grabs your wrist and pulls you into an alcove, pressing his palm flat against the wall beside your head, caging you in. âOh no, baby doll, careful your jealousy is peaking out.â His voice is low, dangerous, teasing. âThat is the cutest thing Iâve heard all week.â
You blush bright red, âGarrett is gonna be pissed if he sees you harassing me like this.â You say with a smirk, you donât deny the jealousy though.
He laughs, a low, rich sound that vibrates against the wall he has you trapped against. He doesnât back down; instead, he leans in closer, his nose brushing your cheek. âGarrett isnât here right now, is he?â He drops his voice to a whisper, his eyes dancing. âAnd you didnât deny the jealously. I noticed that.â
âI donât have time for this Dean.â You shudder at his nose touching your cheek.
He notices the shiver, his smirk widening. His free hand finds your waist, pulling you slightly closer despite the confined space. âYou have time for hockey practice. You have time for Garrett.â His breath fans across the shell of your ear. âDonât you have time for me?â His thumb traces small circles on your hip through his hoodie. âJust five minutes?â
âGarrett is my brother.â You say gulping nervously. Your body being a traitor to you. He pauses, his thumb stilling on your hip. His dark eyes search yours, something intense flashing in their depths. âI know exactly who G is to you.â His voice drops lower, almost husky. âThat doesnât answer my question. Do you have five minutes for me, baby doll?â
You feel yourself starting to give in, but you were interrupted by the sound of male arguing.
âOh no, I know exactly who that isâŚâ
Your dad, the great retired hockey star (and angry, aggressive, abusive man), Phil Graham, and your brother. âOh shit.â You push Dean off of you and run towards the hockey rink tunnel.
Thank you for all the love on the first part of this! Means the world to me knowing my writing is finally getting seen as I love doing it! Especially about certain boys <3
Summary: You were walking into the hockey house with your friends, Hannah and Allie. Your brother, Garrett Graham, lived here with his teammates and friends. John Tucker, John Logan and Dean Di Laurentis.
You all attend Briar University (Briar U). The guys had won a game tonight, which meant that it was party time at the house, the house was packed with people. More specifically, Puck Bunnies.
Warnings: Phil Graham (not in this part), anxiety/panic attacks mentioned, sex
Dean Di Laurentis. The biggest man-whore of Briar U. His carefree and funny persona and his cocky attitude got him all the girls he wanted. Obviously, his looks didnât hurt to look at either. He was 6â5 with gorgeous blonde hair and striking blue eyes. Being Garrettâs sister, Dean has always tried to get to you. He flirts with you every chance he gets. But Dean is never serious about anyone. He always says he doesnât do relationships. Not that you care.
You and the girls walk into the kitchen where the guys were. Hannah was Grahamâs girlfriend, which meant she went right to him. You look down at your clothes, feeling a bout of self-consciousness. Allie had lent you her red corset top tonight, saying âYou havenât been out sinceâŚâ She stops, âYou should look hot!â
You feel a presence next to you and donât have to look up to know who it is.
âHello Dean.â You say with an annoyed tone to your voice.
His signature smirk spreads across his face as he leans against the counter, crossing his arms over his chest-showing off those broad shoulders that made most girls swoon.
âMiss me already, baby doll?â His voice is low, teasing, as his blue eyes drag slowly down to the red top and your exposed cleavage, then back up. âBecause I noticed you the second you walked in here.â
You scoff. âHuh really? Because I didnât notice you at all.â You say sarcastically.
He lets out a low, deep chuckle, clearly enjoying the sarcasm. He shifts closer, his tall frame looming over you, effectively trapping you against the counter with his arms caging you in.
âLiar.â He murmurs the word, his voice dropping an octave as he looks down at you. âYou always know exactly where I am, baby doll.â
You avoid his eyes, you always do. You feel your heart beating faster. You push on his chest to get him to move.
âUnfortunately for you itâs because youâre fucking everywhere.â You scoff again.
His hand catches your wrist mid-push, his thumb tracing slow circles over your pulse point-feeling how fast itâs racing. He doesnât move an inch, just leans in closer, his breath warm against your ear.
âKeep telling yourself that, baby doll.â He murmurs, his voice thick with amusement and something darker. âBut that little heartbeat under my thumb says otherwise.â
Before you could justify yourself, you hear;
âHey! Dean! I told you to stop hitting on my sister!â Garrett appears next to you guys.
Deanâs smirk doesnât even falter, he just keeps his eyes locked on you, thumb still pressed to your racing pulse. âCanât help it, man. She comes into my house, wearing that,â he gestures lazily at your top with his free hand, âWhat am I supposed to do?â
âJesus Christ.â Garrett groans, rubbing his face. âJustâŚleave her alone, okay? Off limits, Di Laurentis.â He says half joking, half dead serious.
Dean finally letâs go of your wrist, but not before brushing his thumb one last teasing time over your pulse. He steps back, hands raising in surrender, but his smirk is still firmly in place. âOff limits, got it, captain.â He winks at you over Garrettâs shoulder. âFor now.â
Garrett gives you a sympathetic look before being pulled away by Hannah.
You roll your eyes, looking around the room to see if you could spot Allie but low and behold, sheâs nowhere to be seen.
Of course sheâs gone, why am I surprised?
The second she saw Logan or Tucker; sheâd vanish into the crowd. Dean watches you scan the room, then steps back into your personal space when he sees youâre alone again.
âLost your protectors, baby doll?â He grabs two beers from the fridge, twists one open, and hands it to you without asking. âDonât look so panicked.â
You eye the beer bottle in his outstretched hand, feeling anxiety bubble up your chest.
âI-I donât drink at partiesâ thanks.â You ignore the beer and push down the memories.
Dean doesnât press you about the beer, but his eyes stay locked on you like heâs trying to figure out the puzzle. The music pounds through the house and through bodies that were grinding against each other on the makeshift dance floor. He watches you shift uncomfortably, clearly out of your element.
âYou look miserable, baby doll.â He finally says, voice low and close. âWant me to take you somewhere quieter?â
You nod subconsciously, not even realising what he said apart from the words âsomewhere quieter.â
Dean grabs your head, silently asking for your consent, you squeeze his hand and he immediately weaves you through the crowded house. His grip is firm and warm, surprisingly gentle. He leads you upstairs, past the chaos, to a quiet bedroom at the end of the hall. He closes the door behind you, muting the noise from downstairs.
You sigh in relief, feeling air enter back into your lungs finally.
He leans back against the closed door, watching you exhale like youâve been holding your breath since you walked through the front door. The room is dim, lit only by a streetlamp outside the window. Itâs quiet, finally.
âYou looked like you were like five seconds away from a panic attack down there.â He observes softly, losing the cocky smirk for a genuine, concerned expression after you donât reply. âYou okay?â
You nod slowly. Shaking your hands out to rid you of the anxiety you feel.
He watches you shake your hands out, recognising the physical notion of someone trying to regulate their nerves. He stays by the door, giving you space, crossing his ankles casually. No flirting, no teasing. Just calm observation.
âBreathe, Baby doll.â He says quietly, his voice low and steady in the quiet room. âYouâre safe up here. Nobodyâs gonna bother you.â
âExcept you.â You say with a light exhausted laugh, still shaking your hands out in front of you.
He actually laughs back at that remark, the sound surprisingly warm and genuine. âFair point. But you know Iâm not gonna bother you like the other assholes down there.â He pushes off the door, moving slowly like heâs approaching a skittish animal.
You show a genuine smile. You notice that this was his room, just by the smell, his smell you knew all too well.
You suddenly remember where you were and who you were with. âI-Iâm sorry Iâm okay I promise, Iâll just go back to Bristol House.â You turn rapidly.
He stops you, âWhoa, whoa.â He holds up his hands in surrender. âNo need to apologise and youâre not going back out there right now.â He moves closer but doesnât crowd you. âYou were shaking like a leaf down there, baby doll. JustâŚstay here for a minute.â
You relax at his words, âOkay.â You say quietly.
He nods, satisfied with your agreement. He notices you holding your arms over your chest self-consciously. So, he walks over to his dresser and grabs a hoodie, tossing it to you gently. âHere.â He watches as you catch it awkwardly, still trying to shake off the last remnants of your anxiety.
You tug it over your head and pull it over your body. You close your eyes, inhaling his scent, forgetting that he was right there watching.
You open your eyes and find him smirking at you. You blush a deep red and stop your inhale. âUh thank you.â
His smirk softens into something almost tender, and for once thereâs no teasing in his eyes. âDid you just smell my hoodie?â He asks, voice low with amusement rather than mockery. He steps closer, not threateningly, just⌠curiously. âThatâs fucking adorable, baby doll.â
You feel heat pool in the bottom of your stomach at him calling you âbaby dollâ again.
âOkay I should go, thank you for this but I have a lecture early tomorrow so uh, tell my brother I said bye?â You donât wait for him to respond and swiftly exit his room, making your way down the stairs and out the front door before anyone notices, you get on your bike and ride back to Bristol House.
Dean watches you go, a small smile playing on his lips. He doesnât bother chasing after you, knowing it would just freak you out more. Instead, he leans against the door frame, watching your figure disappear into the darkness as you ride away.
I hope you enjoyed this? I decided to write my own because where are all the off campus Dean fics at??
I'll do part 2 depending on how this part goes down...
summary: you face the aftermath of teasing logan during a gala. sequel to this short fic.
warning: smut! mdni! no mention of protection but please wrap it before tapping. reader is described wearing a dress (but not for long!)
John Logan never rushes when it comes to fucking you. Never has, never will.Â
He likes taking his sweet time with you, revering you as much as he can, lips and hands travelling over your entire torso and hips while feeling the way your body shivers in anticipation of him, both teasing and tender. Tonight, however, youâre both lured by something much different than that always present tenderness. His touch is still all over your body, in a haze of adoration that this time almost feels like agony.Â
Youâre both desperate for each other.Â
Youâre on him as soon as you cross the threshold of the bedroom, pushing him back until his legs hit the bedframe as you kiss him. Logan sits on the edge of the bed, staring up at you, your hands moving to your shoulders to pull down the straps of your dress when he speaks up, âNo, donât.â He shakes his head, âKeep the dress. Just come here.â
He reaches out, hands on the curve of your hips as he pulls you closer, your legs on each side of his thighs, straddling him. His lips find your neck, kissing and sucking on it as your eyes flutter closed, hands travelling to your back and pulling you down onto his lap.Â
âYou drive me insane, you know that, right?â Loganâs kisses grow more frantic, groaning against your skin as his head moves down to your cleavage, âYou and your little antics, that fucking scene at the bathroomâ What were you thinking, hm?â
âIâ I wasnât, really.â You shake your head, letting out a breathy chuckle turned into a whimper at the feeling of his mouth on you, âI was only thinking of you.â
You thought Logan would have his fun with you tonight as some sort of payback for your little show at the gala bathroom, maybe turning you on so much that youâd have to beg for some relief. Instead, he only seems to care about having you, rushing to take you up on your promise. Logan lifts his head, chin resting on your sternum as his hands move up and up on your back, touch softly brushing your skin over the dress til he finds the zipper.
âThat okay?â he asks in a whisper.
You feel his fingers pulling it, nodding as he drags the thing halfway down, just enough for your dress straps to fall off your shoulders. He allows himself to fully pull the bodice of your dress down, pressing open-mouthed kisses on your skin, tongue moving over your breast. Your hands find his hair, tugging him closer to your torso. Logan moves below you, pushing you off of him and guiding you to lay on the edge of his bed instead as his knees hit the floor with a loud thud none of you seem to care about.Â
His hands move up and down your thighs in a teasing manner, âLook at you,â he says. Logan lifts up the hem of your dress, kissing the inside of your thighs, âYouâre gonna make my dreams come true, yeah?â
You forget, in your need of him, that Logan usually finds his own pleasure by making sure youâre having yours. In that tiny bathroom, you didnât think his dream-come-true meant having his mouth on you until you were breaking apart, kissing and lapping on you until your legs around his head were muffling the sound of your moans.Â
He looks up at you, your head thrown to the side, eyes finding him through your weariness.
âCome up here,â you say, voice small. Logan obliges, because how could he not? Your hands go to his face as he gets closer, muttering against his lips, âWill you please fuck me now?â
âJesus,â he answers in a pained voice, head dropping to your shoulder. âDonât say that. You donât have to beg for it.â
âIâve been begging for it,â you whisper, âSince that fucking receptionâ Logan, please.â
He doesnât let you say another word, ditching his clothes in a hurry before taking your lips on his again. Logan kisses you, and kisses you, and kisses you until youâre dizzy as he moves between your legs, one hand holding your face as the other sneaks down to lift up your thigh. Your mouth parts from him as you moan, open mouthed kisses adorning your neck like a necklace as he slowly opens you up, watching your every move.Â
Your legs grip him, your heels landing on the small of his back, pressing him deeper as he groans, hips now snapping against you. You drag your fingernails over his back, heat coiling in your underbelly, âI can feel you tightening up, baby. You feel so goodââ Logan pants, his own fingers trailing down to help. You whimper, âSo, so good. Are you gonna come for me?â
You hum, and he kisses you right under your ear, whispering, âYou can come. Come with me, yeah? Please, come with me.â
And so it goes, both you and Logan unraveling through deep kisses and soft sighs. He kisses your face over and over and you come down, murmuring, âYou did so good, so good.â
He presses his lips to your shoulder as he lays by your side. You can't help but grin as you immediately miss his weight on you, turning back to face him with a quick peck on his lips,
âYou looked handsome tonight.â
He chuckles, âAs opposed to all the other nights?â
âWhat can I say? You clean up well.â You answer, fingertips cleaning the remains of lipstick off of his face, âYou know what I mean.â
He hums, and you continue, âAnd you had all eyes on you, too. You must be so proud of yourself. You should be.â
âI guess I am.â He shrugs, âFelt really, really good. Doing something to be proud of.â
âYou do plenty of things to be proud of, Logan.â
âNot like that.â He says solemnly, âNot like tonight.â
You smile at him, âYeah. It was something.â
âAnd youââ he grins at you, âYou were something too. â You playfully roll your eyes, turning your back to him. Logan chuckles before sneaking his arm over your body and pulling you closer, his stubble tickling your skin as he presses another kiss on you, mumbling against your shoulder, âMy good luck charm.â
notes: i believe this is my first time writing actual smut so please be nice to me. requests are open, likes reblogs and thoughts are appreciated! <3
summary: logan looks really fucking hot in a suit and it just makes you a little unhinged. short fic, requested!
warnings: hornyyy but no actual smut! reader is described wearing a dress and laced panties
It takes Logan almost two weeks of constant phone calls and at least a dozen meetings with Coach Jensen, but he finally manages to do it: he gets the Briar board into sponsoring their next Hurricanes event.
Out with cheap venues or karaoke nights â Briar U is now throwing a proper gala, sending out invitations for every member of the Council, arranging a next-level campaign thatâs truly more than Logan couldâve dreamed of for a Hurricanes fundraising.
And heâs so close to putting it all at risk inside this tiny fucking fancy bathroom.
âYou gotta stop this.â he says, his entire face blushing.
You smile meekly at him, âIâm sorry,â you say, moving towards him, âYou just look really, really good right now.â
John Logan is a beautiful man, youâve always known that. But ever since youâve met there have been very few opportunities where you got to see him in anything other than casual or gym clothes (or, you know, no clothes at all), let alone wearing a suit. When he shows up to your door that evening, his shirt half unbuttoned, suit jacket over the shoulder and asking for help with his tie, you feel like a woman possessed. You try bringing his face down to yours, planning on kissing him stupid as for as long as humanly possible.
Logan, however, gives you nothing but a quick peck before urging you to get dressed.
âWe canât be late for the reception, you know?â he says, an apologetic smile on his pretty face and hands on your shoulders gently pushing you back, âSo let's get moving, yeah? Want me to zip up your dress?â
Quick pecks and long introductions is all you've been getting throughout the night. Logan talks to sponsors, introduces you to the Council, goes up the stage and preaches about the fundraising, talks about how the Hurricanes youth program changed his life and he wants to pass it on for future generations of hockey players, and so it goes. And itâs hot, plain and simple, seeing him move so professionaly and inviting, shaking hands with sponsors, every so often throwing you a smile or, god forbid, a wink.
Youâre seated for dinner when you decide youâve had enough.Â
Logan sits right next to you, chatting with Coach Jensen and his wife from across the table, hand holding yours. You stare your joined hands for a moment before drop his , pretending to check for something in your purse in hopes no one will notice your sneaky moves, allowing your hand to rest over Loganâs knee, hiding a giggle when you feel him immediately stiffen. You don't test your waters for a little something more â you're not trying to get risky, nor youâre to embarrass him. Youâre just sending him signs as you squeeze his thigh three times, âI need you.â
Logan clears his throat before speaking up again, âI, um, need to use the restroom,â he says, voice higher than usual as he tries to focus again, pushing himself out of the table rapidly.
You and wait two full minutes before excusing yourself and going after him, quiet like a mouse as you stand on the corridor. Logan opens the door and you block his way out, immediately pushing him back inside, the small of his back hitting the countertop, âWow, hey.â
âHi, handsome.âÂ
Your hands go up to the back of his neck, fingertips curling through his hair just the way you know he likes. Logan sighs, eyes fluttering closed, âWhat are you doing?â
âWhat does it look like Iâm doing?â You say, pulling him in for a kiss on the corner of his mouth, then another one on his lips.Â
Thereâs only so far Logan can go resisting when youâre actively trying to seduce him. His lips part, allowing you to deepen the kiss, hands moving to his face and dragging him closer like youâre trying to swallow him, encouraged by his quiet moans against your open mouth. He loves when you get like this â desperate, needy, tempting. It takes everything in him to stop you.
He is, after all, still a man of senses, and having you kissing his jaw and dragging your teeth down his neck is enough to make him well aware of where this is quickly going. Logan slips out from where he stands, pinned between you and the sink, and moves to the door, locking you both in.Â
Logan turns to you, âYou gotta stop this.â he says, his entire face blushing.
You smile meekly at him, âIâm sorry,â you say, moving towards him, âYou just look really, really good right now.â
âBaby, Iâm serious. The entire Council is outside. Coach Jensen would tear me a new one if he everââ He turns away from you, leaning on the counter. Your lips curve in a tight-lipped smile, thinking he sounds like he's trying to convince himself more than anything. Logan quickly runs his hands over his face and through his hair, âI have to give a final speech.â
You feel deliciously bad, seeing him so frustrated for denying you and himself of this.
You sneak in between his legs, his bright, sulken eyes on you. âDonât look so distressed,â you say, fingers pushing his hair back, this time in a much softer manner, âYouâre right, we can't do that. Iâm sorry for messing with you.â
Logan shakes his head, âYou always mess with me. Look at you,â he stares you up and down, hands going to your sides, âYou look like a dream tonight.â
âWell, let me tell you how it goes, then.â you get closer to him, mouth so close to his ear as you whisper, âYou go up that stage, you make a goddamn perfect final speech, and Iâll make all your dreams come true tonight, okay?â
Logan lets out a low noise, something in between a pained whimper and chuckle, resting his forehead on your shoulder, âYeah, okay.â He looks up at you again, âKiss for good luck?â
You curve your lips into a smirk, âIâll do you one better.âÂ
Pulling back from him, you lift up your dress below your knees, just enough for your hands to travel up from your calves up to your hips without revealing him anything. You watch his eyes fixated on your legs as you pull down your black laced panties. Loganâs unmoved as you unbuttons his jacket suit, carefully dropping it into his inside pocket.
âA good luck charm for you to keep,â You press an innocent kiss to his face, âWait a few minutes before leaving, okay? Or theyâll think weâre being perverts and doing it on the bathroom counter.â
You move towards the door, turning the lock, âIâll tell Coach Jensen you got caught in conversation with a potential sponsor. Manâs gonna think youâre a saint, baby.â
Logan thinks he might just be one, for it takes a fucking miracle for him not to follow you like a leashed dog as you walk out the door.
part 2
notes: thank you for reading! requests are open, likes/reblogs/thoughts are appreciated! <3
can we pls get john logan x di laurentis ! reader?đĽšđ the reader could be deanâs twin. u can make it angst or fluff idc. i absolutely LOVED the sleepy story it was so goodđ
Deanâs Twin
Pairing: John Logan x Reader
Word Count: 891
Request open!
Off campus masterlist
The first problem was Dean.
The second problem was that John liked you anyway.
That had been the situation for months, long enough for the guys to notice and long enough for Dean to become deeply suspicious about every interaction you had with John, even when John was being perfectly respectful and not at all flirtatious. Which, unfortunately for everyone involved, only made it more obvious that he was trying very hard not to be obvious.
You had known John through the hockey house long enough to trust him. Long enough to laugh with him, tease him, sit beside him at parties and not feel like you had to perform anything. He was easy to be around in a way that felt rare. Calm where Dean was chaos. Gentle where Garrett was loud. Quietly attentive in a way that made it hard not to notice him.
Still, being Dean Di Laurentisâs twin sister made everything a little messier.
Especially when you caught John staring at you from across the room at a party and Dean saw it too.
You followed the gesture and found John pretending not to look your way, which was a terrible strategy because he was visibly failing.
You sighed. âDean.â
âNo.â
âDean, relax.â
âI am relaxed.â
You gave him a dead look. âYou look like youâre planning a duel.â
âMaybe I am.â
You rolled your eyes, but you were smiling too, which Dean noticed and hated immediately.
John eventually made his way over, looking only slightly amused by the tension he was walking into. He stopped in front of you and nodded at Dean.
âHey.â
Dean looked at him flatly. âWhat.â
John glanced between the two of you, then back at Dean. âI was just coming to say hi.â
Dean folded his arms. âThatâs very brave of you.â
âDean,â you warned.
Johnâs mouth twitched. âItâs fine.â
âNo,â Dean said. âItâs not.â
You took one step closer to John before Dean could escalate into something unnecessarily dramatic. âWhat do you need?â
John looked at you, and his expression softened immediately in a way Dean absolutely did not miss.
âNothing,â he said. âI just wanted to see how your day was.â
Dean made a strangled sound. âYou can ask that from across the room.â
John gave him a calm look. âWould that have helped?â
Dean stared.
You hid a smile behind your drink.
John looked back at you, gentler now. âYou want to get out of here?â
Dean nearly choked. âExcuse me?â
You ignored him. âYeah?â
John nodded toward the side door. âThereâs too many people in here.â
You considered him for one beat, then said, âOkay.â
Deanâs head snapped toward you. âAbsolutely not.â
You turned to him. âDean.â
âYou are not leaving with him.â
John looked mildly amused now. âIâm not kidnapping her.â
Dean pointed at him. âThatâs exactly what someone kidnapping her would say.â
You laughed, and Johnâs gaze stayed on you like the argument around him had become background noise.
Then he spoke, quiet and direct. âDean, Iâm not trying to screw this up.â
That shut Dean up.
For a second, even you did not say anything. John rarely said things like that out loud, and when he did, it was impossible not to take him seriously.
Deanâs expression shifted from suspicious to uncomfortable, which was probably the best you could hope for.
John kept his eyes on you. âIf you donât want this, Iâll leave it alone.â
That landed in your chest in a way that made everything else disappear for a second.
You looked at him carefully. âI do want it.â
Johnâs expression softened instantly, but only a little. He was clearly trying to behave in a way that wouldnât set Dean off further, which was both sweet and deeply inconvenient.
Dean groaned. âI hate both of you.â
You smiled at him. âNo, you donât.â
âI hate that youâre right.â
John offered Dean a quiet nod and then looked at you again. âStill want to go?â
You glanced at your brother, who looked like he was one second away from making a speech about boundaries and bad decisions, then back at John, who was standing there with his hands loose at his sides like he was trying very hard to be patient.
You smiled.
âYes,â you said.
John held your gaze for a second too long, then held out his hand.
You took it.
Dean immediately muttered, âI canât believe this is happening.â
You looked back over your shoulder as John guided you toward the door. âYouâll survive.â
Johnâs thumb brushed once over your hand, and when he looked down at you, there was something steady and warm in his face that made the whole messy situation feel a little less impossible.
At the door, he paused and said quietly, âYou okay?â
You nodded. âYeah.â
He studied you for a second, then smiled faintly. âGood.â
And even though Dean was still glaring holes into the back of Johnâs head from the living room, you realized with some surprise that you were not nervous anymore.
Not with John.
He was calm enough for both of you.
And somehow, even with Dean Di Laurentis as your brother, that felt like a pretty good place to start.
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blurb: pt. 2 to jealou$y. lingering feelings of jealousy bubble up into desire inside logan. it certainly doesnât help that you look so good in your costume.
warnings: fem!reader, smut, established relationship, alcohol (not under the influence), CONSENT KING JOHN LOGAN, oral (f!receiving), john logan tits guy CONFIRMED, fingering, riding, lots of praise because itâs john logan i donât make the rules
You stopped having drinks after that incident. If you were getting lucky tonight, you needed to be sober and ready to pounce on Logan in the right state of mind.
Logan seemed to have the same idea, for you noticed he switched out his bottles of beer for cans of Sprite for the remainder of the night. Neither of you addressed it.
âBro, donât be so fucking boring!â Dean clapped him on the back and tried to hand him a suspicious-looking green concoction.
âNot boring, just responsible,â Logan replied, but his eyes were on you when he said it.
He also kept a heavy hand on the small of your back any moment his hand was free. You put on a good act, pretending it didnât get to you every time his fingers drew small shapes over your top, or whenever his digits slipped beneath the fabric when the boys were too busy laughing, leaving you with a hitched breath and a warm feeling between your legs.
When the other half to your dynamic duo, Kendall, stepped between the two of you and grabbed your hand, spluttering something about dancing to her favorite song, Loganâs grip tightened on you for a moment before he loosened up and plastered a pursed smile on his face.
âAs long as you bring her back to me,â he said. Kendall laughed at his joke as she dragged you away. But one look between you and Logan and you knew he wasnât trying to be funny.
âHeâs so down bad for you, itâs hilarious,â Kendall giggled to you with a roll of her eyes. âHe needs to lighten up.â
The pair of you danced to an ABBA song, laughing and belting out the lyrics. You closed your eyes and let loose, submitting to the tingle of whatever alcohol remained in your system.
John watched like a hawk. The irony wasnât lost on him considering his bird costume. You looked so good. He wanted to hold you from behind and make you feel how heavy hisâ
âAny more staring and sheâll burst into flames.â
Logan snapped out of it and turned to Garrett, who wore a knowing smirk and offered him another can of Sprite.
âThanks, man,â Logan said gratefully, taking the refill.
Garrett looked at your dancing figure. âFreshmen on the team were asking about her.â
âYeah? Whatâd they say?â Logan replied almost absentmindedly, sipping his drink and staring at you.
Garrett sighed. âRather not say. Iâm supposed to be Hannahâs âboyfriendâ and all.â
Logan peered at him from the corner of his eyes, feeling his protective instincts start to wake. Garrett noticed and gently bumped their shoulders together.
âNot like that. Wasnât bad. JustâŚâ Garrett hummed into his red solo cup. âHorny.â He settled on that word.
That was enough.
Logan chugged down whatever was left in the can of soda before making his way over to you. He crossed the room in quick strides, ignoring Kendallâs amused voice when she cooed, âUh oh, return to sender already?â
Logan took your hand and pulled you away; away from the dance floor, away from the party, and most importantlyâaway from the lingering gazes so many guys sent your way.
âLogan?â You queried as he brought you up the stairs.
He didnât respond, just kept tugging you along.
âLogan.â
Nothing.
âBabyââ
He finally stopped and turned to look at you. His stature towered over you and you suddenly felt small with the way he was staring down at your face.
He exhaled a heavy breath. âFuck, baby, Iâm trying really hard to be respectful.â
You cupped his cheek. His skin was hot to the touch. He subconsciously burrowed closer into the palm of your hand.
âYou donât have to be,â you murmured.
He closed his eyes for a moment. âHow many drinks have you had?â
âA can and a half of beer,â you answered.
He opened his eyes to make sure you were being honest. You stood unwavering.
âYouâre sober?â He asked.
âMhm.â
âYouâre sure?â
â100%. Are you?â
He sighed, turning away. âYeah. Yeah, I made sure not toâŚâ his words trailed off.
You smiled. âYou made sure not to drink too much so we could fuck?â
He looked at you again. âDonât say it like that.â
You giggled, pushing away a strand of fallen hair from his forehead. âIâm saying it as it is.â
âI made sure not to drink too much to be responsible,â he corrected.
You nodded along, âOh, yeah. Responsible. My responsible and respectful boyfriend.â You teased. He did not appreciate that.
âOkay,â he let out an amused sound as if he were faced with a challenge. He leaned in and whispered, âLetâs see whoâs laughing when I stop respecting you and start doing all the things I plan to do to you.â
You gulped.
+
He led you to the nearest vacant bedroom in the Maxwell family home before pushing you inside and locking the door behind him. You thought heâd pin you against the door and makeout with you.
Instead, he said, âSit on the bed,â in that husky voice you rarely hear so you knew you had to listen.
You sat down. The covers were soft and cool. You watched and waited for his next words, but Logan was too busy pacing in front of the door and running his hands through his hair. He looked so yummy.
âTake your clothes off. Let me see you.â
You blinked. You werenât used to Logan being like this. He usually did all the work. But this new side of him was hot, so very hot.
You slowly unzipped your boots and kicked them off along with your socks. Next, your headpiece with the sprinkles. Then, your tube top, revealing your bare breasts, and lastly, your skirt, leaving you in nothing but underwear.
You felt exposed, just sitting there on the bed as Logan stared at you without a word. His eyes were nearly black from how blown out his pupils were, his bottom lip chewed and slightly pink from how much he dragged it beneath his teeth.
âPretty,â he finally commented. âThatâs new.â
You glanced down to where he gestured, looking at the lace thong you wore. He was right; it was new. You and Kendall bought matching ones for the costumes, but you didnât need to tell him that bit right now.
âYeah,â you confirmed.
âWas it expensive?â He asked.
âNotâŚreallyâŚâ
âGood,â he nodded to himself. He pushed off the wings he wore for his costume and pulled his shirt over his head, tossing it aside.
He knelt down in front of you and spread your legs apart. âSo I can ruin it, right?â
That shot up your spine. Your thighs wanted to rub against one another at his remark, but he held your knees firmly. âAnswer.â
You nodded without thinking. âYes.â
He smiled at your obedience and nodded. âYeah, weâll get to that. But for nowâŚâ his words died down as his lips attached to yours.
It was all tongue and messy. Logan pinned your wrists to the mattress as he kissed you. He grunted against your lips every time you bit his lip teasingly. Eventually, his kisses trailed downwards. To your neck, your shoulder, your collarbone. He made sure to give all your sensitive spots an abundance of attention.
Then? His favorite bit. Your tits. John Logan was a tits guy, through and through. Doesnât matter what size or shape, he was enamored with them.
âMissed my girls,â he murmured before he took one of your breasts into his mouth, swirling his tongue over your pebbled nipple and sucking softly, then switching to the other boob and giving it the same treatment.
Your head tilted back and let out soft sighs. The comfort of him mouthing at your breasts left you aching and squirming on the bed. âOh, babyâŚâ
He pulled away at your voice and left a sloppy kiss between your tits. He peppered a few more kisses on your abdomenânipping an especially ticklish spot below your ribâbefore diving in and licking you over the fabric of your lace thong. You gasped, your hand flying to his hair like second instinct.
He groaned against you, the sound muffled but the vibrations sending sparks to your core. âAlready so wet for me. I hardly did anything.â
âLogan, pleaseâŚâ
He kept licking up your slit through your panties. He could feel your juices seep through the delicate material. The friction was doing wonders for your pleasure, but you grew impatient. âLoganâŚâ
He finally pulled your thong to the side and resumed his ministrations with extra fervor. The direct contact had you jumping in your seat, but Loganâs strong arms held your hips down.
He groaned again, pulling away just to mutter, âFuck, gorgeous, maybe he was right to call you cupcake. You taste so fucking sweet.â
Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion before his words fully registered in your head. âJames?â You asked, breathlessly.
He pulled away and looked at you with a deadpan expression. He crawled up your body until he was face-to-face with you and said, âPlease donât ever say another manâs name when my tongue is inside you.â
That had your hole clenching around nothing.
âGot that?â He asked.
You nodded right away, âMhm.â
âWords,â he demanded.
âYes. Got it.â You responded quietly.
âGood,â he murmured before smoothing your hair down and admiring you for a moment. Then, his head was back between your thighs.
âAh, Logan!â You breathed out, digging your nails into his scalp.
He raised up two fingers to your lips without stopping. You blinked back bleary eyed at that. âOpen,â he said.
Immediately, you parted your lips. He shoved his ring and middle fingers inside your mouth and you sucked on them diligently, running your tongue over his calluses earned from hockey and various handyman jobs. Once they were appropriately wet, he pulled his fingers out and into your pussy.
You keeled over with a loud cry, âJohn!â
He raised his head up, letting his fingers do all the work now. âYou like that? Yeah?â
You bobbed your head up and down, unable to find any words left in you from how nicely Logan scissored his fingers inside you, all whilst keeping his thumb on your clit in steady motions.
âLook at you. So pretty and whiny for me,â he murmured, voice smooth as honey. âLetting me wreck you like this and I havenât even used my cock yet.â
You whimpered, hand gripping onto his bicep. You were sure youâd see nail marks on his skin even tomorrow morning.
âOh, you like that?â He asked, tilting his head. âYou want me to fuck you stupid with my cock?â The pace of his fingers increased.
Your eyes screwed shut. âYes! Please, I want that.â You tugged him closer so you could bury your face in his neck, feeling so overwhelmed by pleasure.
He let out an airy chuckle. âSuch a good girl. Just for that? Iâll reward you.â
He made you cum on his fingers. The heel of his hand applied pressure on your sensitive bundle of nerves until you seized and melted against him with a moan.
âShhh, thatâs it. Come down from it, youâre okay,â he kissed the top of your head.
You mumbled incoherent sentences into his neck and he merely smiled and rubbed your back.
After a minute of breathing, he pulled back slightly to look at your face. âYou okay?â He asked, pushing a lock of hair away from your face.
You nodded, still buzzing from what had happened. âYeah,â you exhaled.
He nodded, watching you carefully in the vulnerable afterglow. Your hands trailed down to his jeans, tugging at his belt, silently asking for it to come off.
Logan chuckled softly before helping you remove his belt and jeans. He reached into the pocket then chucked them on the floor and you instantly started palming his eager boner through his boxers.
He hissed, tossing his head back. âFuck, baby.â
âPlease tell me you have a condom,â you said.
He held the small foil up in his fingers.
At that, you rid him of his boxers and watched in tense awe as he teared the packet open with his teeth and rolled the condom on. You settled back against the bed pillows as you waited in hot anticipation.
âUh uh,â he wagged his finger before curling it in a come hither gesture.
You sat up, letting out a surprised squeal when he lifted you by your thighs and settled on the bed before placing you above him. Your hands scrambled until they settled on his abs.
He looked up at you with hooded eyes, âLook good for me, gorgeous. I want a show.â
You leaned down and peppered kisses over his face. He let out a relaxed sigh and rubbed up and down your sides lazily. You nibbled on a spot right below his ear, earning you a delicious whimper from him.
âTease,â he muttered and you grinned.
âThought you wanted a show,â you remarked.
He hummed, âMm, yeah. But just for me. No one else.â
You looked down at him, realizing heâs still a bit hung up from the incident earlier that night. Your finger slid sensually from his adamâs apple to his naval. âNo one else. Only you.â
âYeah?â His voice got deeper. âShow me.â
Sir, yes, sir. You held his dick from the base and slowly sank down on him. Logan groaned, his grip on your hips tightening. The stretch of him filling you up was deliriously good. You bit your lip as you took him in, inch by inch.
Finally, you both let out a sigh in unison. You planted your palms flat on his abdomen and started rocking back and forth.
The room succumbed to the sounds of soft moans and the subtle creak from the bed. The party downstairs was long forgotten. Here, it was just you and Logan.
âJust like that, baby, hah,â he breathed out, moving you back and forth. Even if he put you on top, Logan would always end up doing the work for you. You were his pampered princess.
You threw your head back, feeling the pleasure build up in your tummy once again. You took one of Loganâs hands and guided him through rubbing circles on your clit.
âDo you like that, sweetheart?â He asked.
You nodded fervently. âYes. Fuck, yes, Logan. Keep doing that, baby, Iâm so close.â
He held you firmly and started bucking up into you. You cried out, slumping against his chest as he thrusted in and out of you, reaching so deep inside, hitting that spongy part that left you seeing stars.
âCum for me, baby. I know you can do it,â he said.
The coil snapped and you released, letting out a long moan. Your body shook, the pleasure and adrenaline rushing through you like a live wire meeting water. You collapsed against him, your bones feeling like putty.
He took your chin in his hand and tilted your head up to meet his face. He was still rocking into you. âNeed to see you, baby. Need to see your pretty face when I cum.â
You were so out of it, barely processing his words. You simply nodded and chewed on your bottom lip. He looked so hot all sweaty and breathing heavily.
His eyes squeezed shut when he came, letting out a guttural groan. You felt his hips falter as he bucked up into you, rhythm sloppy and erratic. He let out a shuddering breath and dropped his head back onto the pillow.
The room was quiet now. The hum of electrical circuits and the distant noise of the party below filling up the space. You traced shapes onto his ribs, your touch barely skimming his skin. His hands caressed your back slowly, giving a small squeeze every now and then.
âNot jealous anymore?â You murmured, looking at him with an amused smirk.
He scoffed. âI wasnât jealous.â
You hummed, âOhhh, okay. Not jealous. Just possessive.â
He rolled his eyes fondly, a smile threatening to tear his lips wide. âJustâŚwant you to be mine. All the time.â
You smiled, âI am.â
âI know you are.â
mr. i get wet at the thought of you being a responsible guy fr
summary: youre hopelessly in love with Garrett whose your bestfirends boyfriend, so when you were cornered about your love life you came up with a lie that eventually started everything.
warnings: none so far
I post this earlier as i thought i'd make you a suprise! đĽ°
By Wednesday, the rumors had evolved into something alive. Not confirmed, not official just⌠circulating. You heard whispers everywhere now.
At Maloneâs. In lecture halls. Outside classrooms.
People looked at you differentlly whenever John passed nearby, like they were waiting for something, some kind of proof, some undeniable sign that the story spreading through Briar was actually true.
Unfortunately, you and John still behaved like two coworkers forced into a group project.
"Too stiff" John informed you thursday afternoon while walking beside you across campus.
Cold kissed your cheeks a little too much today, making your face all red. Snow crunched beneth your feet.
You frowned. "Weâre not stiff"
"We absolutely are" he glanced sideways at you. "Yesterday you flinched when I touched your shoulder"
"You startled me!"
"I said your name first"
"That proves nothing" you pointed your finger at him. John snorted softly before pulling open the science building door for you.
Warm air wrapped around both of you instantly alongside the smell of coffee and disinfectant lingering through the nursing wing.
You shifted your backpack higher onto your shoulder while students moved around you in noisy clusters. Sharing classes with Logan had become unexpectedly dangerous.
Not emotionally- just socialy.
Because now people actually saw you together. He sat beside you in lectures now. Walked with you between classes. Stole your pens constantly despite owning at least twelve himself.
It made the lie easier to believe but it also made pretending strangely natural sometimes. Which honestly felt more concerning than it should.
"Youâre overthinking again" John said suddenly.
You blinked. "What?"
"I can literally see it happening"
"Iâm not overthinking!"
"You have the exact same face every time"
"What face?" You stared at him.
"The âIâm mentally spiraling and pretending Iâm notâ face"
You glared at him and John grinned immediately.
Cocky. Insufferable. Entirelly too pleased with himself.
Then his expression shifted slightly as his gaze moved behind you. "Oh no" he muttered.
Your stomach dropped instantly. "What?"
"Turn around casually"
"That sentence has never ended well" you laught but still, you glanced behind you.
Three girls stood near the vending machines openly staring. The second one noticed you looking, she immediately whispered something to the others.
You looked back at Logan slowly. "Oh my God"
"Exactly"
The girls were definitely watching now. Waiting, observing, trying to see if the rumors were real.
John sighed dramaticaly. "This is becoming a full time job"
"Youâre the one who said we needed strategy"
"Yeah, but I didnât realize Briar students were this psychotic"
One of the girls pulled out her phone. Your eyes widened in horror.
"Theyâre literally documenting us!"
"Okay" Logan stoped walking abruptly. "New plan"
Before you could ask what that meant, he grabbed your wrist gentlly and pulled you toward an empty study room at the end of the hallway. The door clicked shut behind you.
Silence settled instantly.
Muted campus noise hummed faintly beyond the walls while fluorescent lights buzzed overhead.
You turned toward him slowly. "This feels illegal"
"We need practice"
You blinked. "âŚPractice"
"Yes" Logan dropped his backpack onto one of the chairs. "Physical practice"
Your face heated immediately. "That sounded horrifying"
"You know what I mean"
Unfortunately, you did because he wasnât wrong. Every touch between you still looked hesitant. Deliberate and too careful. Like two people pretending to know each other instead of two people actualy dating.
John leaned back against one of the desks, crossing his arms.
"Normal couples touch each other naturally"
"Okay"
"Okay" he repeated. "So why do you react like Iâm about to murder you every time I stand too close?"
"I do not!"
"You absolutely do!"
You opened your mouth and then close it again as you had nothing to say. He was right, you flinched everytime he touched you in front of your friends.
Logan sighed before pushing away from the desk. "Alright. Weâre fixing it"
Your heartbeat picked up immediately "This sounds terrible"
"It probably will be"
Then he stepped closer, not as in dramaticaly, nor intentionally seductive. Just close enough that awareness flickered sharply beneath your skin.
You suddenly noticed ridiculous things like the clean smell of his shampoo, the faint scratch of stubble along his jaw, the warmth radiating from him in the cold room.
Your pulse stumbled annoyingly. Logan noticed that instantly.
"See?" he said. "That!"
"What?!"
"Youâre already nervous"
"Iâm not nervous"
"Youâre blushing"
Heat climbed hotter into your cheeks immediately.
"You cannot blush every time I get within five feet of you"
"well i canât control that"
"Couples kiss all the time" Logan said lazily. "You look like Iâm threatening you"
You crossed your arms defensively. "Youâre blushing too"
"Thatâs different"
"How?"
"It just is"
You narrowed your eyes. John laughed quietly under his breath before reaching toward you. Your entire body went still.
"Relax" he muttered. His fingers brushed lightly against your hair, moving a strand away from your face carefully. Simple gesture, a tiny one. Still, something strange tightened low in your stomach.
Because John suddenly looked different this close; less loud, less cocky. His attention felt focused now. Intent. Like he was genuinely trying to memorize what felt natural between you.
"There" he murmured. "That looks normal"
Your voice came out thinner than expected "You think?"
"Yeah"
Neither of you moved, the silence stretched strangely. Then Johnâs hand settled lightly against your waist. Your breath caught, not because it was inapropriate. Because it felt unexpectedly easy like his hand belonged there already. And somehow that realization felt more dangerous than the touch itself.
John looked down at you briefly. You became painfully aware of how little space existed between your bodies now.
"This is probably enough..." you said quietly.
"Probably"
But neither of you stepped back. Your heartbeat thudded harder. Johnâs gaze flicked toward your mouth for half a second before returning to your eyes.
Something shifted subtly in the air. Not romantic at least not yet; just charged. Like both of you realized simultaneously this arrangement maybe wasnât as funny as it used to be.
"We should probably practice kissing too" he said eventually.
Your stomach flipped violently. "What?"
"I mean u-h strategically"
"Strategically"
"Yes"
"You sound insane"
"Maybe" A grin tugged briefly at his mouth. "But weâre terrible at this"
Unfortunately, he was right. You stared at each other for one long second.
Then slowly, very slowly John leaned down slightly. Your breath stopped. Not because you wanted him to kiss you. Not because you didnât. Just because suddenly the possibility existed.
Real and immediate and terrifying. Your eyes dropped briefly to his mouth.
John noticed and his hand tightened unconsciously against your waist.
Then... The door burst open.
"Oh, shit_"
Both of you jumped apart so violently it looked criminal.
freshman stood frozen in the doorway holding anatomy textbooks.
Silence. Complete silence.
You could physically feel your own heartbeat trying to escape your body. Logan cleared his throat immediately. "We were studying"
The freshman blinked slowly. "âŚRight"
Then he backed out of the room and shut the door again while you stared at John.
Then simultaneously "Oh my God"
By Friday night, things somehow felt even stranger because now touching him didnât feel shocking anymore. And that honestly mightâve been the most dangerous part.
The Briar arena buzzed with noise and bright lights while students packed into the stands wrapped in winter coats and school colors.
You barely had time to sit beside Hannah before Allie gasped dramaticaly. "Oh my God"
You looked up.
John approached the seats carrying drinks and unfortunately he was wearing his hockey jacket.
Which shouldâve been illegal on principle.
"Allie" Hannah warned immediately.
"What?" she whispered aggressively. "Our friend's boyfriend is hot!" You knew she only said that to test you and your reaction. After all you and John had yet to prove you're "dating" for real.
"He can hear you"
"Good"
Logan reached your row then handed you one of the drinks casually before dropping into the seat beside you. "Garrett says if we lose tonight itâs your fault" he informed you.
You frowned. "Why?"
"He says Iâm distracted"
Across the row, Garrett grinned unapologetically. Hannah rolled her eyes beside you.
Then Logan pulled something folded from his lap. "Here"
You blinked. It was one of his Briar sweatshirts - dark gray with the hockey logo across the front. It was still somehow warm.
Your stomach did something weird "You donât have to_"
"Youâre wearing blue" he interupted. "You look like you support Harvard"
"Thatâs disgusting"
"Exactly!"
Hannah laughed softly while you reluctantly pulled the sweatshirt over your head. It smelled like him and that realization felt deeply unfortunate.
Allie looked dangerously emotional immediately. "Oh my God, this is becoming REAL"
"Itâs already real" Logan said smoothly. And you nearly choked.
His expression remained completely calm.
Liar.
The girls immediately started asking questions after that. When did you start dating? Who kissed who first? How long had this been happening?
You and Logan kept accidentally looking at each other for answers. Which only made Allie more suspiciously delighted.
By the time the game started, your nerves were wrecked. Still hockey looked different when you knew somebody on the ice.
You found yourself tracking Logan automatically now.
The speed of him, the sharpnes, the way he laughed after shoving Garrett into the boards during warmups. And when he scored halfway through second period, your body reacted before your brain did. You stood with everyone else cheering loudly.
Then froze because Logan looked directly at you through the glass afterward and grinned.
Something warm twisted strangely in your chest knowing he didnt looked up to Hannah at first. Beside you, Hannah smiled knowingly. You ignored that completely.
Briar won and chaos followed immediately after; students shouting, music blasting, the team flooding toward the stands high on adrenaline and victory.
Garrett reached Hannah first, kissing her hard while she laughed into his mouth. Dean nearly tackled Allie next.
And then somebody shouted:
"Kiss your girl, Logan!"
Everything happened quickly after that, the team immediately started yelling, cheering and even whistling. John looked at you.
And suddenly there was no escaping this one.
"Oh my God" you muttered.
"Strategic" Logan reminded quietly.
You laughed nervously, then he stepped closer. One hand settling automatically against your waist now like heâd done it a hundred times before.
Natural.
Easy.
Your pulse skipped.
John hesitated only briefly before leaning down. The kiss started awkwardly for exactly one second.
Then unexpectedly It softened. It wasnt intense,but not desperate either. Just warm, comfortable and strangely easy like your bodies figured it out before your brains did.
The noise around you blurred brieflly.
Johnâs hand tightened slightly against your waist. Your fingers caught instinctively against the front of his jacket.
Then someone wolf-whistled loudly nearby and both of you pulled apart immediately.
Your cheeks burned, he looked equally startled.
Dean screamed like somebody had proposed marriage.
Phones flashed everywhere. And somewhere behind you, Jules Logan lowered hers slowly with narrowed eyes.