eddie was my friend too // steve harrington x reader
summary: Steve and Dustin's fight. Steve doesn't seem to understand Dustin's grief and he forgot that Eddie was your friend too, because he's been busy fighting for Nancy's attention. Until one day, things needed to be said.
words: 2.7k.
warnings: angst, angst, angst. Steve and Dustin's fight in season 5, grief, established relationship, Eddie's death, Vecna took you in season 4 instead of Nancy, physical and verbal fights, reader is insecure about the Nancy topic (no hate to Nance, we love her), happy ending.
a/n: hi my loves, just obsessed with my man Steve, even when he can be rude like he was with our son Dustin. English is not my first language so let me know if there is a mistake. Enjoy, hope you like this, love y'all. <3
italics = past
-- -- -- -- --
“HOW ABOUT CHASING AFTER SOMEBODY ELSE’S GIRLFRIEND WHILE THE WORLD IS ENDING?” Dustin yelled at Steve with his lantern pointing at him.
The whole group split for this mission, so you were on your way to where they were. Meanwhile they are grouped together and the other team is Nancy and Jonathan that were somewhere else in the same building.
“Nancy is a friend. She is a FRIEND, OKAY?! Remember what’s that like? Having friends?” Steve answered Dustin’s accusation while he held his lantern.
“Yeah. I do. I remember what it’s like to have a good friend. A REAL friend who actually believed in me and was actually kind to me” Dustin responded seriously, remembering Eddie.
“Aha! aha!” Steve is pointing at Dustin at his answer.
“What? WHAT?” Dustin asked even when he doesn’t want to hear what Steve is going to say.
“There we go. That's what this is all about, really? Is Eddie? All your bullshit pushing everyone away it’s because nobody can be as perfect as he was” Steve finally matching the dots on why Dustin is having this attitude lately.
“Well he wasn’t perfect but at least he knew that, unlike YOU” Dustin pointed back at Steve. “He was never fake, he didn’t care about what other people thought about him. He was just himself and you know what? He was the smartest, kindest person I ever met and he would have solved this in 30 seconds flat” Dustin showed Steve the rubik cube he was holding.
“Well if I'm such a goddam idiot how come I’m the one still standing here?” Steve was already losing the little patience he had.
Bad timing for you to just arrive at the building and wait in the hall listening to their argument. You didn’t want to interrupt because you know how much they needed this conversation but you also thought that this was going to be a more friendly conversation instead of a fight.
Eddie was also your friend, and your heart breaks every single time you remember about his sacrifice. And your heart also hurts the way you know and been telling Steve that Dustin is not doing well with his own grief but didn’t want to push the teenager to his limit.
“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” Dustin looked dead eyes at Steve.
“That night, I told you to not be heroes, I told both of you. What did Eddie do? He charged into a swarm of killer bats” Steve remembers perfectly what he said to both of them.
“TO SAVE MY LIFE!” Dustin yelled at Steve, remembering Eddie's purpose.
“He saved no one” Steve said with a sad look on his face, flashbacks from that horrendous night.
“HE SAVED EVERYONE!” Dustin can’t believe Steve is saying this to him, it hurts so much.
You are leaning against the wall, still in your hiding spot trying to hold back the tears. You felt guilty because that night Steve couldn’t go with Dustin and Eddie because of you. Because he was trying to save you and taking care of you.
—
“K’ EVERYONE LET’S GO” Steve yelled to the rest of the group who was waiting on the other side with the rope hanging. He will catch everyone when all of you jump through that hole. You were the last to jump and Steve reassured you that you will be okay that his open arms were ready to catch you. You find comfort in his words and tenderness because you were so scared.
Of course you trusted him because you and Steve have been together for years now since you met him at that ice cream shop where he worked for the summer and then had a whole adventure against the Russians, what a way to meet the love of your life but also going through hell.
So you jumped but between those seconds you landed somewhere else and not in Steve’s arms. Somehow Vecna was in front of you and you tried to run away from him but it was an endless maze. You keep trying to escape because you couldn’t die in the hands of this monster.
What the group saw when you jumped was you in trance, with your eyes blank and trembling. Steve was holding you, shaking you, anything for you to come back to reality. He was so scared, he saw it when it happened to Max when they almost lost her so he couldn’t believe that this was happening to you. The love of his life.
Somehow Steve convinced the rest of the group to leave and go to their places and tasks. Told them to not worry because he’ll stay with you bringing you back whatever it cost. Erica is the only one helping him searching for the speaker and the tapes with some music but all she could find was Eddie’s music.
“Please, my love. Why you? What is that monster doing to you?” Steve cried while you were still in trance, holding you so close to his body.
Meanwhile, Vecna raised his hand and you thought that he was going to take your eyes off but he put it all over your face. “I’m going to show you where I’m going” Vecna told you while he locked you in a chair, no chance to move your whole body and those weird snakes around you started to asphyxiate you.
“MY LOVE JUST STAY WITH ME, STAY WITH ME. ERICA HURRY UP!” Steve almost choked on his tears.
You kept looking at Vecna with scary eyes thinking how you would get out of this trance. “I want you to tell Eleven everything you are about to see” while Vecna shows you his visions.
On the other side, Erica threw to Steve the speaker with some music. “IT’S NOT WORKING, ERICA! HELP!” Steve cried out loud when the music didn’t bring you back like Max.
“NO! NO! NO!” you screamed at the top of your lungs at the horrible things Vecna was showing you. Everyone in danger, the whole world on fire, the floor split, the sound of the clock.
“SHOW HER EVERYTHING!” Vecna shouted at you when all of a sudden he let you go and woke up from your trance.
You felt dizzy and nauseous from the things you saw and also from the change of gravity that finally hit you. Your blood pressure lowers so you almost fell to the ground if it wasn’t for Steve’s strong arms holding you the whole time.
“I’m here, my love. Don’t worry, I’m here” he said while he put you down to lay down for a second. You felt so exhausted and tears were running down your face without your permission. You looked at Steve in shock, failing at trying to speak or tell him what you saw. “No no, rest please. I’m here, I’m not losing you” Steve kissed your head.
It took you a while before you could stand up and return to the field where everyone was battling against Vecna. After the fight you returned and received the notice from Dustin that Eddie died.
Till this day you felt guilty because you told Steve that if it wasn’t for you that Vecna took you, he could have fought alongside Dustin and Eddie and Eddie would be alive.
–
“Eddie wanted to play hero, and he made a dumb call, and he got himself killed” Steve said to Dustin without even blinking.
“SHUT UP!” and that’s when Dustin throws himself against Steve to punch him, the rubik cube landed on Steve’s head.
That’s when you couldn’t take it anymore and step in the scene to stop the fight.
“GUYS! STOP!” you screamed at them, but they already broke a wall fighting so they landed in another room. You saw how Steve wasn’t fighting back, it was just Dustin throwing the fists on your boyfriend’s body and face.
“CALM DOWN HENDERSON. CALM-” Steve tried to hold him back when another punch landed on his face.
“DUSTIN, STOP!” you were trying to reach them but they were moving faster than you. You were sure that anger clouded his mind so he wasn’t listening to you or even notice your presence. It hurts so much to see them like this, they are best friends.
Maybe Dustin noticed you because he took a final jump to hit Steve with the wall that was behind them and they fell again to the ground and let Steve go.
“You know what, man? I’m done” Steve couldn’t take this shit anymore, tears in his eyes.
Dustin sat on the floor, with tears too. Missing Eddie more than ever, feeling alone because it seems that nobody understands his pain. Well, he was the one who held Eddie when he took his last breath.
“All right, yeah, just go and crawl back to Nance!” Dustin screamed at Steve who was already away from his vision, leaving the room.
You ran to Steve to check on him. “STEVE! Are you alright?” you put both of your hands on his cheeks to look closer if there was any serious injury on his face.
“I’m fine” Steve didn’t want to be rude with you, but the truth is that he was really upset after the fight. “I’m serious, I’m okay”. He said trying to hide the sadness he was feeling.
“What happened?” you asked, trying to understand why the argument escalated so fast.
“Just Henderson being an asshole” Steve is still furious. “Can you believe him?”.
“Steve… don’t say that, please” you expression sad too but remembering your friend Eddie too just like Dustin, empathizing with his grief because you still have nightmares about that night. “He’s grieving Eddie’s death, it’s not easy to overcome a situation like that especially in the way it all happened. He needs more comprehension from us instead of judgement like you pointed out at him”.
“SO NOW I’M THE BAD GUY?” Steve moved so your hands were now in the air instead of his face. “I’VE BEEN TRYING TO UNDERSTAND ALL THE STUPID THINGS HE HAS DONE LATELY, AND I’M THE BAD FRIEND?” Steve asked you, finding no reassurance in your words.
“Woah woah, first things first there is no need to yell at me, okay?” You put your hand between the two of you asking him to calm down. “Nobody is saying you are the bad guy in the story, okay? But the commentary about what Eddie did was stupid was unnecessary, okay?” you looked at him without even blinking so he understood that you were not playing about this.
Steve’s mind was clouded with anger and disillusion from his friend, he didn’t want to fight with you, the least thing he would like but he was taking your words like you were blaming him. “Sorry. I didn’t want to raise my voice. That’s why I didn’t want to be paired with him on this mission”.
“You preferred to be with Jonathan right now? Or maybe Nancy?” you asked him, Dustin’s words still in your mind.
“Seriously? You too? So this is about Nance?” he lost patience when it came to the Nancy situation. He knew how insecure you felt at first when you two started dating, but time passed and you know how much Steve loves you but that topic lately it’s been itching your brain.
“I don’t know. You tell me. Dustin is not the only one who’s been acting weird lately. What about your stupid fights with Jonathan to show- I don’t know what to Nancy or the rest of the group. Like who is more manly? And don’t tell me that I’m making this up because every single time Jonathan wants to do something or take care of something related to Nancy you compete with him and everyone noticed, that’s why Dustin said that”. you finally asked him about this, a weight off your shoulder but to be honest you don’t want his answer, not now.
“I’m an asshole, okay? When Dustin said it out loud I noticed that was not good of me. Okay? like I said, Nance is my friend, that’s all. And you should know that, you know you are the love of my life and you are who I want to marry and spend my life with if we survive this” Steve explained reaching for your hands.
But you didn’t want to talk about this now, the insecurity already building again in your brain when it comes to Nancy. “Steve you know what, I don’t want to talk about this right now. I’m going to check on Dustin if he’s okay. Because you know what? If you spent less time fighting with Jonathan about Nancy you would notice that me and Dustin went to visit Eddie before school this whole week because Dustin asked me and he didn’t want to go alone” you walked in front of him heading to where Dustin was, giving Steve his lantern that was on the floor because of the fight. “In case you forgot, Eddie was my friend too!”.
You left him alone with his thoughts, tears in your eyes remembering the good old days with your friend Eddie. The whole week you and Dustin helped to clean Eddie’s grave that had been vandalized because people still had another image of him.
It happened to Steve with all of you. He regrets being such an asshole at school because he was too busy trying to be popular or act like the coolest guy that he lost the chance to meet Robin, Eddie and especially YOU way before. He would love to get to know you way before this all hell on earth you were living right now, to get to be friends way before with Eddie and have a best friend like Robin since the beginning instead of ruining the last years of high school by just feeling like an impostor because behind the scenes, at his home he was alone.
He will always carry with that regret, but he has you now in this present day, same with his best friend, Robin. Sadly, the group lost Eddie and he had to admit that lately he hasn’t been the best friend to Dustin or the best boyfriend to you, helping you both with your grief. It’s true he’s been wasting time fighting about stupid things with Jonathan for Nancy’s attention instead of checking on you and being more present. Paying more attention to the consequences of this adventure, that is going with you to the cemetery or sitting down with Dustin to just listen to him instead of judging him or what Eddie did, because by doing that he’s not going to change the past.
He can’t lose what he has NOW. How lucky he is.
He has that night Vecna took you for a while tattooed on his mind, still haunting him the fact that he almost lost you. How time moved slow and fast at the same time seeing you in trance when that monster was playing with your mind.
Without hesitation, he ran upstairs looking for you and Dustin, practicing his apologies to both of you. The moment he found you taking care of Dustin’s injuries, he just threw his body to the floor to hug you and Dustin, no words needed.
“I’m sorry, my love”, Steve didn’t break the hug, hiding his face on your neck getting wet with his tears. Dustin froze the moment by hugging even harder, enjoying this moment of peace despite the chaos. “Sorry, buddy. I’m the worst”. You wiped his tears with your thumbs off his pretty face when he faced his best friend.
After a necessary conversation that was needed to put some things on the table, you felt a huge relief noticing nobody of the group needs to cross hell alone at hard times for the ones we lost or the traumatic things you had seen or lived.
“I love you, too” you kissed his lips quickly, still salty because of his tears.
“I fucked up, too. Let’s finish this, for Eddie” Dustin took a last hug before standing up looking at both of you, his favorite couple and role models.
“FOR EDDIE!” you and Steve said in unison before running to return the battle.
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summary: drunk reader confesses her feelings to logan. short fic, requested (via dm)
The glittery eyeshadow makes your eyes pop, Logan thinks as he stares down at you. It’s a shame he has to take it off.
“Why are you staring at me?” You say, giggling.
He shakes his head, “Nothing. Your makeup looks really nice.”
“Thank you.” You say, beaming up at him. “Your face looks really nice.”
Logan lets out an incredulous laugh, but how could he not? You’re stupidly drunk after one of the infamous Briar U Hockey Team parties, and the alcohol seems to have completely removed the filter between your mind and your mouth, leaving you rambling your every thought to him as he decided it’s time for you to go to bed.
Now, there you are, shiny eyes looking tired under the low lights of his room, wearing his clothes, sitting cross-legged on his bed, calling him pretty. It's both adorable and nerve wracking.
“You’re just drunk, honey.”
“I am so drunk.” You nod, chuckling, “But I’ve always thought you were pretty.”
He looks at you, “Yeah?”
“Yes, sir.” You say, solemnly.
Logan shakes his head, grabbing a makeup wipe he got from Hannah’s tiny box of supplies in Garrett’s bathroom. He sits by your side and delicately grabs your chin, holding you in place. “What are you doing?”
“Taking your makeup off.” He says, concentrating on wiping your face gently enough.
“Why? You just said you liked it.”
“Because it’s time for bed. Close your eyes for me?”
You do, and Logan carefully starts removing the smudged glitter on your eyes. You hum as he wipes the make up off of your eyes, “This feels nice.”
“Yeah? Not too harsh on your skin?”
You try shaking your head no, Logan’s hand still holding you in place. You giggle, “No, it’s not harsh at all. Well,” You say, “Your fingers are a bit callous.”
He smiles at your sincerity, “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. I like them,” You say, then a little more sure, “I like you.”
Logan’s grip completely falters, and he lets his hands fall to his lap.
He wishes he could’ve said it took him by surprise, but honestly, no, not really. Actually, he should’ve seen it coming tonight.
It was pretty obvious that Logan had a soft spot for you from the moment you got introduced into the group by Hannah, and he might be slow, but he’s not blind — he knows you like him too. It’s like you’ve been playing a silly game of will they, won’t they, both too coy to take the initiative. Until alcohol gets involved, that is. Then all your inhibitions are swallowed down, and next thing he knows, you’re a dream come true confessing your feelings for him.
It can’t be like that, Logan thinks.
You open your left eye just slightly, peeking through your lashes, “Logan?”
“I– I think you should go to bed,” he says, not giving you any time to repeat yourself, getting up from his bed, “We can talk in the morning, yeah?”
You blink, face turning from giddy-drunk to frowny-drunk, “Okay.”
Not okay, he can tell from your curved lips. “Yeah? You good?”
“Yeah.” You say, crawling to the top of his bed. “All good. Night, Logan.”
“Hey,” he says before you can close your eyes, “We talk in the morning, okay?”
You nod, then hide under the covers.
—
Logan doesn’t see you in the morning.
In fact, he wakes up with an awful back pain from sleeping on the big chair near his bed, just to find his bed empty, clothes carefully folded and not another sign of you.
Fuck, he thinks, grabbing his phone from the nightstand to check if there’s any phone calls or texts from you, to no success. Fuck, fuck, fuck.
Logan gathers his last bits of hope to go downstairs, but the house is silent, and everyone seems to be asleep still.
He tries calling you, but you won’t answer. He texts you, hey, can we talk? Then, please? to no avail.
By the end of the morning, he’s desperately knocking on your bedroom door.
“Oh, my God,” You show up at the door, flunging it open, “What the fuck is wrong with– Oh. Logan. I– I wasn’t expecting you–”
“I called you.” He cuts you off, “I mean, you weren’t there this morning, and I tried calling but you wouldn’t answer. I– I was hoping we could talk?”
You frown, “So you can reject me to my face? Again? No, thank you. I’m too hungover for this.”
“No, no. What are you talking about?”
“I’m talking about me reading this,” you point between you both, frustrated, “all wrong. Look, I’m sorry, but I thought–”
“I like you.” He says, watching as you close your mouth, taking a step back. He follows your step, getting an inch closer.
“You do?”
He scoffs, “Honey, you know I do.”
“I don’t know anything, Logan.” You answer softly, “I thought I did, but…”
“But you were really fucking drunk,” he says, hiding back a laugh as he gets closer, “And calling me pretty, and– And I was thinking, god, I like you so fucking much.”
You grin at him, “Really?”
Logan refuses to answer you, his lips finding the corner of your mouth, chasing your kiss over and over and over again til you’re dizzy again, drunk on something much stronger this time.
notes: thank you for reading! requests are open! likes/reblogs/thoughts are appreciated! <3
summary: reader helps a woman with her baby. logan experiences a little baby fever. fluff, short fic. requested!
The sound of a bell ringing takes you out of your almost meditative state of sweeping floors. You turn to face the door, expecting to see Logan, just to find a woman and her baby staring back at you.
“We’re closed for the night. Sorry, ma’am.”
“No, I know, I’m sorry—” The woman starts saying, her voice apologetic, “I was hoping I could use your bathroom? I– I just need to change, I’m meeting someone and she dropped her juice on my shirt.”
Now that you’re closer, you can see the big, orange spot in her white shirt, along with the way the sling tugs on her shoulders and the frown on her young face, “I won’t take long, I promise.”
“Yeah, absolutely,” you nod, “Second door to the left, ma’am.”
“Uh, one more thing.” Her face twists in embarrassment, “I’m so sorry, do you mind holding her while I do it? I don’t have her stroller with me, I was just going–” She starts rambling, stopping to compose herself, “I’m sorry, it’s been a long day.”
You offer her a reassuring smile, “It’s okay. Here, hand me her–” you leave aside the broom you were holding, quickly cleaning your hands on a cloth over your shoulder. The woman carefully takes her baby out of the sling, handing her to you. The baby starts kicking her legs, making you chuckle, “Someone’s happy to be off the sling.”
She’s a quiet thing, the baby. Chubby face and big, dark eyes looking up at you. “This is Posie.” Her mother says, “I’m Mary. Thank you for watching her.”
“No problem.” You smile at her, Posie looking curiously at you, “Take your time, yeah? There’s paper towels in there, feel free to use it.”
Mary nods thankfully, quickly rushing to the bathroom. You look around the place, holding Posie on your hip as you fish the phone out of your back pocket — Logan was supposed to pick you up after practice today, but you don’t think you’ll close the bar in time. You're trying your best to type a quick message using just one hand when the door bell dings again.
“Hey, hon—” Logan walks in, stopping on his tracks once he sees you holding Posie. He looks around, eyebrows crossed in confusion, “Did I step into an alternate universe? Since when do we have a baby?”
“Ha ha. Very funny, Logan.” You say sarcastically, then smiling at the baby in your arms, “This is Posie. Her mom’s in the back using the restroom.”
Poor little Posie seems to grow fussy over the mention of her mother, face twisting in a frown much like her mother’s, “Aw, darling. You’re alright.” You say, voice so gentle, “Your mom’s in the bathroom. Let’s give her some time, yeah?”
Logan watches as the baby starts blubbering in your arms, and you shift to rest her little head over your shoulder. Your hands move to Posie’s small back, comforting her as you shush her little cries.
He can’t remember if he’s ever seen you interacting with a kid ever, but he thinks it must be the first time. There’s no way he’d ever forget this feeling, he decides, as he feels his ribs tugging, heart melting in such a lovely way.
“It’s okay,” you keep repeating, “You’re okay, Posie. Don’t cry, please. Let’s not startle your mom.”
Posie settles a little, lips still curved but now quiet, eyes fluttering closed.
“You’re good with kids.” He whispers to you, trying not to alarm the baby. You look up at him, watching as his eyes move from little Posie to you, pupils dark and adoring, “I think I’d be good too.”
Your lips quiver into a little smile, “Don’t even think about that.”
“What?” He lets out a quiet, incredulous laugh, “I wasn’t thinking.”
“Yes, you were. I can see it in your face.” You say, and his mouth splits into a smile, “See! Stop!”
He shrugs, still smiling, “Okay, not thinking anymore.” Logan takes a step back, hands on his varsity pockets, “You’d want one?”
Your hand keeps drawing circles on little Posie’s back. “I don’t know. Maybe someday?” You murmur, “Do I have to answer now?”
“No,” he chuckles, “Of course not. I’m just wondering.”
“Okay. Someday, then.”
He hums, “Someday.”
Mary doesn’t take too long in the restroom. You quickly introduce her to your boyfriend, saying he’s here to pick you up. She seems mortified to have stalled you both, but thanks you profusely once she finds her daughter so close to sleeping in your arms.
“She’s so tired, poor thing.” Mary says, adjusting little Posie on her sling, “Thank you again.”
You just shake your head, “Have a good night, you and Posie.”
Logan helps you finish cleaning the place, stacking the chairs as you finish sweeping, a quiet domesticity fog dawning over you both. You watch as he looks up at you every other minute, a chuckle breaking through his lips.
You don’t scold him for his obvious train of thought. Instead, you quickly press a giggly kiss on his cheek, him wrapping his arms around you for a bit. There’s no promise over your heads, just a glimpse of a possible future, someday.
notes: thank you for reading! requests are open! likes/reblogs/thoughts are appreciated! <3
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tags: established relationship, smut after the ***
summary: reader gets jealous at a party
You didn’t consider yourself a jealous person
Well, that was before you started dating Logan and had to deal with the puck bunnies constantly around him at Malone’s and parties.
You trusted him, of course you did, but that didn’t stop the ugly green monster from making its way out of you.
You were at a party at Logan's house when you had gone to the bathroom. When you had come back, your spot next to him on the couch was already taken by Piper and her friends. You turn around and head to the kitchen instead, your jealousy rearing its head considering Logan's past with Piper
He sees you headed toward the kitchen and immediately goes to follow you, leaving Piper while she was midsentence. He wasn’t listening anyway.
“babe you okay?” he asks as he sees you filling up a cup with a drink
“yeah fine just go back to piper” you snap and take a swing from the cup
“woah where’s that coming from?” he asks, his eyebrows shooting up
you close your eyes and take a deep breath, “Nothing just forget about it” you say as you try to leave the kitchen but he puts his arm out blocking your way
“Let's talk about it, okay?” he says, eyes searching yours. “Are you upset because of Piper? because I promise I was saving your seat but she ignored it and sat down anyway”
“it’s not just Piper, it’s all the girls who come up to you like you’re not even in a relationship and it sucks and doesn’t make me feel good knowing you’ve been with most of them and i’m not blaming you or anything but these girls come up to you and say shit like remember this or remember that and it’s rude to do tha-” you’re cut off by logan crashing his lips onto yours.
“You’re jealous” he says against your lips, “but you have no reason to be, I don't even look at anyone else, you’re all I want” he says and he picks you up and places you on the counter, he’s standing between your legs with his arms on either side of you.
“Im sorry, I'm being ridiculous” you mutter, hit with a wave of embarrassment
“You have no reason to be sorry baby, I kinda like seeing you a little jealous” he grins
You laugh and hit his chest, “shut up” and you grab his chain and pull him towards you, lips meeting his.
you break your lips away from his, his lips chasing yours, “can we go upstairs?” you whisper in his ear, “please?” you ask and he groans
“fuck, of course baby”
He lifts you off the counter and on your feet, and is quick to drag you through the living room and up the stairs. you barely lock the door before he pushes you against it, one hand coming up to your cheek while the other goes to the nape of your neck.
***
“clothes. off” you say between kisses and he takes off his shirt, taking yours off too and leaving you in your bra and the skirt you were wearing.
he leads you toward the bed, his lips leaving yours only to take off his jeans.
“you know John, I think I’m still a little mad at you” you sigh as he leaves kisses on your neck, his hard on against your thigh
“oh really? I think I know how to make it better” he trails kisses down your stomach to your inner thighs. he lifts your skirt up and moves your panties to the side before his mouth makes contact.
you moan, one of your hands going to john’s hair while his other hand finds your free one, “fuck john”
you lose count of how much time passes before you feel your orgasm approaching, and john knows it too since he goes harder and faster until you come in his mouth.
he trails kisses back up to your mouth, “is all forgiven baby?” asks, his eyes looking into yours
“hmmm maybe” you tease, before it turns into a squeal from him turning you over onto your front and lifting you up on your knees before he enters you from the back,
“oh my god john” you moan as you lean your head back onto his shoulder as his hand comes up to your throat.
he groans, “I know baby I know I got you” he says as his other hand goes to your breast, “you’re the only one for me, you know that?”
you whimper as his hand leaves your throat and he pushes you down so you’re on your hands and knees, his hands spanking your ass before he holds on and uses it as leverage to pound into you
“fuck” you moan as you get close to your second orgasm.
“I know, me too” he groans and he flips you around to missionary to finish, wanting to see your face as you come.
while you’re both coming down, he’s leaving kisses all over your face and down your neck, “I love you” he says softly as you settle against his chest
you look up at him to find he’s already looking at you with nothing but love in his eyes, “I love you too” you smile and press your lips against his
summary: in which your brother's best friend, john logan, helps you find yourself after a toxic breakup.
pairing: john logan x fem!grahamreader
notes: hi! my first john logan fic!! this one is slightly more angsty than normal. i hope you enjoy <3
warnings: protective john logan!
ꪆৎ
it was a phone call that logan really wished he didn't have to answer.
the unfamiliar voice on the other end comes in too calm, too casual considering the time of night.
“you were the last person she messaged,” the man says, like it’s obvious, like it means something. “so i just assumed you were her boyfriend or a friend.”
boyfriend.
logan exhales through his nose, already grabbing his keys before the call even properly ends.
“is she okay?” he asks, his voice tight, concern clearly laced within his tone.
a pause.
“she’s outside a club,” the man replies. “didn’t want to leave her alone. she’s pretty out of it.”
logan doesn’t need more than that.
“yeah,” he says sharply. “i’m on my way.”
three months.
three months since you and your ex tom had ended things.
three months since you started disappearing into nights that always ended the same way. too much alcohol and pretending you were fine when you very clearly weren't.
garrett had noticed immediately.
which was exactly why, when he left monday afternoon with hannah to spend the week visiting her parents, he refused to let you stay alone in your dorm.
“just stay at the house,” he’d told you, “logan and the guys will be there anyway.”
harmless.
except nothing about this arrangement had stayed harmless for very long. somehow, logan had become tangled up in all of it.
between the drunken phone calls, late-night drives, and the way he always showed up without hesitation, he’d quietly become the person you reached for whenever everything else went wrong.
your brother's best friend, the person he trusted the most.
the one who always came.
logan pulls up outside the club within minutes, taking in the scene before him. lights flood onto the street as people spill out into the cold, loud and careless against the quiet of the night.
and then he sees you.
curled on the curb.
your head buried in your knees.
completely still.
logan's stomach drops so fast it almost makes him dizzy.
“fuck,” he mutters, already out of the car.
the cold air hits him, sharp and unforgiving, but he barely feels it. not compared to the sight of you like that, folded in on yourself like you’ve been left there and forgotten.
there’s a man crouched beside you, one hand hovering near your back.
logan approaches quickly.
“hey,” he says, crouching down, voice controlled with effort. “thank you for calling me man. i appreciate it.”
the man nods. “no problem. i wasn’t going to leave her here by herself.”
“yeah,” logan replies quietly. “thanks, again.”
he nods his head, signalling a final thank you to the stranger who had helped you before his attention shifts on to you.
your skin is pale under the streetlights. lashes clumped slightly. lips parted like you’ve stopped noticing anything happening around you. your body is shaking, barely dressed for the weather, like you didn’t think past getting out the door.
logan swallows hard, his breathing turning irregular.
“hey, y/n,” he says softer now, hand resting gently on your shoulder, his thumb drawing circles ever so slightly.
you barely respond. just a small sound, half-conscious.
something twists in his chest.
“c’mon,” he murmurs. “up you get. let’s get you home.”
home.
because technically, it’s just garrett’s hockey house. technically, dean and tucker are there too.
technically you’re only staying for the week. none of that changes the way your body immediately relaxes when logan speaks those words though.
you don’t resist when he helps you up. you never really do. just lean into him like your body already knows where safety is, even when your mind doesn’t.
his hand stays at your waist longer than necessary.
he doesn’t move it.
in the car, logan buckles your seatbelt, fingers brushing your collarbone briefly as he leans in.
too close. closer than he needs to be.
your breath is warm in the small space between you. your eyes are half-lidded, looking at him like you’re trying to focus but can’t quite manage it.
logan's throat tightens for reasons he refuses to name.
“you’re freezing,” he says, already shrugging off his jacket.
“here...put this on.”
you mumble something incoherent, most likely out of protest, but he’s already pulling it over your head. careful and slow. like he has to remind himself not to linger too long when his hands brush across your hair accidentally.
you smell like alcohol and perfume and something familiar that makes his chest feel tight in a way he hates.
“how much did you drink?” he asks quietly.
no answer.
“y/n,” he says again, softer.
your eyes flicker open slightly.
“you’re always the one who shows up,” you murmur, barely conscious of the words leaving your mouth.
“yeah,” he says simply, voice low. “i’ve got you.”
silence.
-
garrett answers on the second ring.
“logan,” garrett’s voice comes through immediately. “you’ve got her?”
“yeah,” logan says, already locking the door behind them. “i found her outside a club. she’s okay. just a bit out of it.”
a pause.
then garrett sighs, heavy. “this is getting out of hand.”
logan runs a hand through his brunette hair. “i know.”
he lets out a deep sigh as the weight of the situation begins to settle in.
“you don’t have to keep doing this every time something like this happens” garrett continues. “i mean, i appreciate it, but you’ve got your own life, man.”
logan glances toward the bathroom door where you’ve disappeared and he breathes a sigh of relief as the sound of water fills the room.
“she’s not just some call i ignore, g” logan says quietly before he can stop himself.
another pause.
“what's that supposed to mean?” garrett asks, sharper now.
logan exhales. “nothing. i just mean that i’m here. i’ve got her...if and when she needs".
garrett’s voice softens slightly. “i know you do. just… don’t let it become your whole thing, alright? i'll be home soon, i don’t want you burning yourself out.”
logan doesn’t answer properly because he already knows he is.
and it’s not stopping.
-
when you get out of the shower, everything changes.
you step into the hallway wrapped in a towel, damp hair falling around your shoulders, skin still flushed from the heat. the house is dim now, only the living room lights on.
and logan is there.
sitting on the couch.
staring at nothing.
until he sees you. and then he just stops.
fully.
like his brain needs a second to catch up with what he’s looking at.
you pause under his gaze, feeling a sudden wave of insecurity wash over you as you stand before your brother's best friend, your body bare, covered in nothing but a bit of fabric.
“what?” you ask quietly.
he doesn’t answer straight away.
his eyes flick over you once. slow, unintentional, like he’s trying not to look too long but failing anyway. the towel sits loosely around your body, ends tucked just enough to be decent, but not enough that he isn’t suddenly aware of every inch of space between you and him.
his throat moves when he swallows.
“you okay?” he asks finally, voice rougher than before.
you nod slightly. “yeah.”
but neither of you move.
logan's looking at you like he’s trying very hard not to cross a line he hasn’t admitted exists.
“there’s a shirt on the bed for you,” he says, forcing himself to look away.
but he doesn’t immediately, and neither do you.
for a second too long, the air between you feels… suspended.
like something could happen if either of you stopped pretending not to notice it. then you finally break it, turning slightly down the hall.
you send him a brief smile before mumbling a quick “thanks” beneath your breath.
logan exhales like he’s been holding his breath without realising it.
and only then does he look away completely.
-
the sound of your phone buzzing against the table breaks the silence logan had found himself in.
he sees the name before he can stop himself.
'tom'
something in his chest hardens instantly and he doesn't hesitate this time, answering before he thinks twice.
“hey y/n,” tom says, too comfortable, almost too familiar.
logan's grip tightens. “why are you still calling her?”
a pause.
“who is this?”
“logan,” he says flatly. “and you need to stop calling her.”
a laugh. “relax, man. i was just checking she’s still on for tonight.”
logan goes still.
“on for what, exactly?"
“you know,” tom says casually. “to fuck.”
silence.
it stretches.
cold.
sharp.
then logan's voice drops. “don’t talk about her like that.”
there’s a brief pause on the other end of the line, the kind that stretches just long enough to feel deliberate.
“what, like what?” tom pushes, casual in a way that makes logan’s grip on your phone tighten, his jaw flexing once as if he’s physically restraining the urge to react more sharply than he already is.
“she’s fine with it,” tom continues, almost amused. “ask her yourself.”
that’s what does it. not the words themselves, but the ease of them. like you’re something disposable enough to be discussed without consequence.
logan goes very still.
his voice drops, “you’re done", drawing a line so clearly it doesn’t feel like part of a conversation anymore.
before tom can even process the shift or argue back, logan ends the call, the abrupt silence swallowing the last of it, and he places your phone down on the table with a kind of controlled precision, like it has become something he doesn’t want to hold anymore.
for a second after that, he just stands there, staring at it, breathing shallowly through his nose like he’s trying to reset whatever just changed inside him.
and then he hears it.
the bathroom door opening. he doesn't turn straight away, taking a brief moment to settle his heavy breathing.
you step out wearing his shirt.
it hangs off you in a way that shouldn’t matter as much as it does, loose at the shoulders, soft against your skin, the hem sitting too casually like it belongs there, and for a fraction of a second the entire house feels wrong, like the air itself has shifted its weight.
logan’s reaction is immediate, even though he tries to stop it from being obvious.
his jaw tightens. his eyes sharpen. his whole body goes still in a way that isn’t calm at all.
you were his best friend's younger sister, he shouldn't be looking at you this way.
“what happened?” you ask softly, your voice still carrying a hint of confusion, like you can already feel the tension in the room without knowing where it’s coming from.
logan doesn’t answer right away because if he speaks too fast, it won’t come out the way he needs it to.
and if it comes out wrong, he thinks you might finally realise just how much this has stopped being platonic for him.
so instead, he chooses the question that’s been circling him since the call ended.
“why is he still calling you, y/n?”
your stomach drops immediately.
it’s not subtle. it’s not something you can hide.
it just happens. in your face, in your posture, in the way your arms shift slightly like your body is bracing for impact.
“logan-” you start, already defensive.
his voice cuts in, sharper now, but still controlled in that terrifying way where you can tell it’s being carefully contained rather than expressed.
“you said you blocked him.”
a pause.
his eyes don’t leave you now.
“you told me you were done with him.”
you look away almost instantly, like holding his gaze is suddenly too much.
“it’s not that simple,” you say quietly, and even you sound like you don’t believe how thin that explanation is.
he lets out a short breath through his nose. there's no humour in it, just frustration layered over something heavier.
“it never is with him, is it?”
silence settles between you both, thick enough to feel physical, and you fold your arms slightly like that will make you smaller, or safer, or less exposed under the weight of the moment.
“you don’t understand,” you say, and there’s something in your voice now that’s less defensive and more exhausted, like you’re already bracing for the fact that he won’t.
those words alone click something inside of him.
he finally looks at you properly, his eyes softening as they meet yours.
when he speaks again, his voice is quieter, but it carries more weight than it did before.
“i understand enough,” he says, each word measured carefully.
“i understand i’ve been lying to garrett for months. he thinks you stopped talking to tom right after you broke up, y/n".
his jaw tightens briefly. frustration and hurt flickering across his features before he continues.
“and i thought there was only one time after that. one night you slipped up and saw him again.” he lets out a short breath through his nose, shaking his head slightly.
“but you’ve been lying to me too.”
your stomach drops instantly.
“logan-”
“don’t,” he cuts in quietly, not angry this time, which somehow feels worse. “i kept covering for you because i thought you were trying to move on. because i thought every time he came back around, it caught you off guard.”
your chest tightens immediately, the words hitting somewhere you didn’t prepare for.
“i didn’t ask you to cover for me-” you start, but he doesn’t let you finish.
“no,” he cuts in, not harsh, just immediate, like he refuses to let you take that path. then he exhales, dragging a hand through his hair once, slower now, like he’s trying to hold himself together physically.
“no, you didn’t. but i still did. every time.” his voice dips lower, almost quieter than the space between you.
“and i don’t know how to stop being the person you call when everything goes wrong.”
that lands differently.
it doesn’t fit into the argument anymore.
it doesn’t belong to his anger.
it belongs somewhere else entirely, and neither of you acknowledge that place, but it’s suddenly there anyway.
you blink once, thrown off by the honesty of it, and your voice comes out smaller than you intended.
“so don’t do it then,” you say, like it should be simple. like it should be a switch. “stop.”
he almost laughs at that, but there’s no humour in it at all, it’s a short exhale that dies before it becomes anything real.
“you think it’s that easy?” he asks quietly, his eyes fixed on you now in a way that feels heavier than before.
“you think i can just… leave you to deal with him on your own?”
“i can handle it,” you say quickly, too quickly, like you’re trying to reclaim control of something slipping.
“no,” he replies immediately, no hesitation at all. “you can’t.”
and that silence that follows is different again.
it’s sharper.
you flinch slightly without meaning to, and something in his expression shifts as soon as he sees it, just a flicker, but it’s enough, like he realises exactly how hard he’s coming down without meaning to.
his voice softens a fraction, though it doesn’t lose its edge completely.
“i’m not trying to control you, y/n,” he says lower, more carefully now.
“i’m just trying to make sure you’re okay.”
you swallow, your throat tightening around everything you’re not saying.
“then stop acting like i’m a problem you need to fix,” you say, and this time it comes out steadier, but there’s pain underneath it that neither of you miss.
that hits him too.
he looks away briefly, jaw tightening like he’s trying to contain something that wants to break through his restraint.
“that’s not what you are,” he says, almost to himself at first, then more firmly, like he’s correcting the entire direction of the conversation.
“you just keep going back to someone who doesn’t deserve you.”
your laugh is small, brittle, and it doesn’t sound like amusement at all.
“and what, you do?”
the room changes instantly. something in the air tightens so sharply it feels like it could snap.
logan goes still.
completely still.
like even his breaths are something he has to think about.
because that wasn’t supposed to come out.
your eyes widen slightly a second later, like the realisation catches up to you too late.
“i didn’t mean-” you start quickly, voice shifting, scrambling.
“no," he says quietly, cutting you off, but his voice is rougher now, stripped back in a way that shows he felt it more than he’s willing to show.
“you did.”
silence spreads again, heavier than before, like it’s filling the space between every word you’ve already said and every word you can’t take back.
he exhales slowly, and when he looks at you again, it’s not anger anymore. it’s something more controlled, more contained, but far more complicated.
“i’m not perfect,” he says quietly. “but i’m not him.”
your voice cracks slightly when you answer, because you can feel the conversation slipping into something you don’t know how to manage.
“you’re not my boyfriend either, logan.”
that should have been a boundary. clean. simple. clear.
but it lands wrong.
because he already knows.
and it shows.
something in his face shifts immediately. the words hitting somewhere deeper than you had intended.
he swallows once.
then, quietly-
“yeah,” he says. “i know.”
and the way he says it makes it worse, not better. there’s no argument in it, simply acceptance.
you turn first. not because you want to leave, but because staying feels like it would turn this into something neither of you are ready to deal with. your legs move before you can even begin to process the conversation that had just occurred before you. the insult you had just thrown at the one person who had constantly been there for you these past few months.
you find yourself walking down the hallway, your body finding speed as you feel tears begin to sting your eyes.
logan doesn’t move. he just stands there, finding himself staring at the space that you had previously occupied, realising that somewhere between picking you up off the street and standing here now, this stopped being just about helping garrett, about helping you.
his jaw is clenched so tightly it aches, and for a moment all he can hear is your voice repeating in his head.
you’re not my boyfriend either.
like he hasn’t been trying, every single day, not to become exactly that.
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
Logan freezes for half a second, then exhales sharply through his nose, already shifting into problem-solving mode. “Okay. Don’t panic.”
“Don’t panic?” you whisper harshly, scrambling upright and nearly knocking your head into his. “I am in my brother’s teammate’s bed. That he specifically told not to flirt with me.”
“Yeah, yeah, I’m aware of the headline,” Logan mutters, running a hand through his hair as another knock hits the door. “Logan?” Garrett calls again, more impatient this time. “I know you’re in there.”
You slap a hand over your mouth. “He knows. Oh my god, he knows.” “He doesn’t know,” Logan whispers back quickly, grabbing your wrist gently. “If he knew, he wouldn’t be knocking—he’d be breaking the door down.”
…Okay. Fair.
“Get in the closet.”
“What—no.”
“Do you have a better idea?” he shoots back, already tugging you off the bed. “Because unless you want to explain why you’re in my room at”—he glances at his phone—“six in the morning, this is happening.”
Another knock. Louder.
“Logan.” You groan under your breath but let him guide you toward the closet. “If I die, I’m haunting you.”
“Noted,” he mutters, cracking the door open just enough for you to slip inside. “Stay quiet.” The closet door shuts, plunging you into darkness that smells faintly like detergent and his cologne. Your heart is pounding so loudly you’re convinced Garrett can hear it through the walls.
A second later, the bedroom door opens. “What took you so long?” Garrett’s voice fills the room. “Was sleeping,” Logan replies, his tone annoyingly normal. “Crazy concept. You should try it.”
You roll your eyes silently, pressing your ear closer to the door. “Coach moved practice up,” Garrett says. “You look like shit.”
“Thanks, man. Love the support.”
There’s a pause. You hold your breath. “…Why does your room smell like perfume?” Your stomach drops.
Logan doesn’t miss a beat. “Because unlike you, I don’t live like a cave troll. I own soap.”
“Not what I meant,” Garrett says slowly. You squeeze your eyes shut.
There’s another pause—longer this time. Suspicious. Then footsteps. Closer.
Too close.
You barely stop yourself from making a sound as the closet door handle rattles—
—and Logan’s voice cuts in, sharper this time. “Dude.” The footsteps stop. “What?” Garrett asks, reaching for the closet door handle.
“Go. We’re gonna be late,” Logan says, firmer now. “Unless you wanna explain to coach why you were digging through my closet at six a.m.”
Silence.
Then a scoff. “You’re weird.”
“Yeah, yeah.” Another pause—but this one ends with retreating footsteps.
The bedroom door opens. Closes.
Silence. You wait.
One second.
Two.
Then—
The closet door swings open, and you practically fall forward into Logan’s chest as he lets out a quiet laugh, steadying you with his hands on your arms. “You okay?” he murmurs, amusement dancing in his eyes. You stare up at him, adrenaline still buzzing. “I almost died.”
“You’re being dramatic.”
“You almost let him open the door!”
“I had it handled,” he says, a small grin pulling at his lips. “Mostly.” You narrow your eyes at him—then pause. Because he’s still holding you. And you’re still very close.
And suddenly, the panic is gone… replaced with something else entirely. “Still want me to take you home?” he asks softly.
You hesitate. Then, quieter this time—“No.” His expression shifts, something warmer settling in. “Yeah,” he murmurs. “Didn’t think so.”
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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
You scan the backyard, finally spot Garrett leaning against the fence, looking bored out of his mind. You make your way over, dodging people stumbling around drunk. As you reach him, he looks up and smiles. "There you are."
“Here I am.” You hold your arms out, showing yourself off.
"Damn, you clean up nice." Garrett whistles low, pulling you into a one-armed hug. "Logan didn't drag you here, did he? I saw him pull up in his car looking like he was on a mission." He eyes you carefully. "You okay? You look... flushed." He reaches out, touching your cheek. "Hot too."
You swat his hand away, “I’m fine and no I got here by myself. Also thanks for the awkward car ride the other day! You couldn’t pick me up after practice?” You tut.
"I was tired after practice, okay? And I had shit to do." Garrett rolls his eyes, leaning back against the fence. "You know what? Forget it. I'm gonna get a drink." He starts to walk away but stops suddenly when he sees Logan approaching from inside the house.
You scoff, “Yeah, thanks big bro!” You say sarcastically watching him walk away.
"Hey." Logan steps up beside you, his eyes flicking between you and Garrett. "Everything good here?" He glances at Garrett's retreating figure before focusing back on you. "Your brother being an ass again?" His hand finds its way to your lower back again without hesitation.
You nod. “Yup! What’s new?” You cross your arms over your chest. Not noticing you were squeezing your chest, making your boobs protrude.
Logan's eyes immediately drop to your chest, his throat bobbing as he swallows hard. He quickly looks away, trying to compose himself. "Fuck..." He mutters under his breath, his hand on your back tightening slightly. "Can you... maybe not do that?"
“Do what?” You follow his eyes to your chest and smirk. “Am I distracting you, Logan?” You say teasingly.
"You're distracting everyone." He grits out, his eyes darting around to see other guys looking at you too. A surge of jealousy spikes through him. "Can you put your arms down or something? Jesus." He runs a hand through his hair, frustration clear on his face.
You smirk tightening your arms making them even more noticeable.
Logan's jaw clenches, his eyes locked on your chest. He takes a step closer, his voice dropping to a near whisper. "You're literally trying to start a fight." He can feel the attention of other guys on you, and it's making him twitchy. "I'm not joking. Put your arms down before someone does something stupid."
“Someone or you?” You challenge him, stepping closer to him.
His eyes flash with something dark and hungry at your challenge. The space between you two is practically nonexistent now. He can smell your perfume, see the rise and fall of your chest. "You really wanna find out the answer to that?" His hand moves from your back to the front of your hip, gripping it possessively as he pulls you flush against him.
You breath catches as he pulls you closer. You stare into his eyes, giving him a nonverbal answer.
Without breaking eye contact, he leans down, his lips hovering mere inches from yours. The music and noise around you fade away as you hold each other's gaze. "Fuck it." He closes the distance, crashing his lips to yours in a sudden, intense kiss.
You freeze in surprise, not expecting him to kiss you, you push him off and pause. But then you close the distance again and kiss him just as intensely.
His hands instantly grip your waist, pulling you flush against him as he kisses you back with desperate intensity. The world around you completely disappears—no party, no Garrett, no distractions. Just your lips locked together. His fingers dig into your hips as he pours weeks of pent-up tension into the kiss, completely unapologetic for taking what he wants.
You moan into his mouth, feeling his tongue enter yours.
At the sound of your moan, a low growl rumbles in his chest. He deepens the kiss, his tongue sweeping into your mouth to tangle with yours. One hand moves up to tangle in your hair, tilting your head back to give him better access as he kisses you like a man starved.
You pull away and lean up to ear. “Show me your room?”
He breaks the kiss, chest heaving as he stares down at you with wild, hungry eyes. Without a word, he grabs your hand and starts dragging you inside, not caring who sees. He leads you up the stairs and to his room, slamming the door shut behind you both.
Your heart was beating so fast and hard, you were worried it was going to beat out of your chest.
He locks the door instantly, the click echoing loudly in the sudden silence of his room. The bass from the party downstairs is just a dull vibration now. He turns to face you, chest heaving, eyes scanning your face as he realizes you're practically trembling. "Hey." He steps closer, cupping your face in both hands. "Breathe."
“I’m good just… never done this before…” you admit looking at the floor.
His breath catches, and his hands soften against your face, tilting your chin up gently so you have to look at him. "Never?" His voice is different now—softer, reverent even. Everything from the confident, cocky guy downstairs is gone. He presses his forehead against yours. "Then we go slow. Whatever you want. I mean it."
You feel gratitude flutter in your stomach. You weirdly felt safe with Logan.
He can see the conflict in your eyes—the nerves mixed with desire. He kisses you again, but this time it's completely different. Slow, gentle, reassuring. His hands stay on your face, not wandering, just holding you. When he pulls back, his nose brushes against yours. "Tell me what you're thinking." It's not a demand, it's a request.
You close your eyes, “I’m thinking that Garrett is gonna flip when he finds out. He’s my brother, Logan. I don’t wanna lose him. He’s the only family I’ve got left since mom died and we stopped talking to dad.” You ramble on.
His heart twists at the mention of your mom, knowing how rough it's been for you. He pulls you closer, wrapping his arms around your waist protectively. He's not thinking about sex anymore—he just wants to hold you. "Hey."
“He doesn’t have to know.” He says searching your face for eye contact.
He cups your face gently, his thumb brushing over your cheek as he meets your gaze with unwavering sincerity. "You're not losing him. This is between you and me." His voice is soft, deliberately careful. "I'm not going to fuck up your relationship with your brother. I swear." He presses a gentle kiss to your forehead. "We keep this private."
You hesitate but melt into his touch.
He feels you relax into him, and it's like a weight lifts off his shoulders. He presses another kiss to your forehead, then your temple, letting his lips linger there for a moment. "That's it." His hand slides down your back, resting at the small of your waist. "We don't have to do anything tonight. Want me to take you home?"
You shake your head. “No, can we just cuddle?”
Something soft and gentle shifts in his expression, something that looks almost like affection. "Yeah, of course." He pulls back just enough to tug off his hoodie, then climbs onto his bed, patting the space next to him. "Come here."
You lie down next to him and snuggle into his chest.
His arm wraps around you instantly, pulling you closer like you belong there. His fingers find your hair, gently running through the strands as his other hand rests on your hip. You can feel his steady heartbeat against your ear, the rise and fall of his chest as he breathes. "Is this okay?" He murmurs, his chin resting on top of your head.
You hum in confirmation and listening to the calm sound of his heart.
He stays like that for a long time, just holding you and listening to the sounds of the party downstairs growing quieter and quieter. Eventually, the only sound is the two of you breathing in sync. His fingers continue to play with your hair, a soothing rhythm that makes your eyelids grow heavy.
You get woken up by the sound of knocking. “Yo Logan, coach called for early practice.” Garrett’s voice sounded behind the door.
Your eyes widen. “Oh shit.”
Hey guys! Sorry I didn’t get another part of this out yesterday, I went out for my managers hen party and got a bit drunk 🙈🤣
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
It wasn’t supposed to rain today. That’s what the weather app on your phone said, anyways. Which is why you’d made your way to the library in nothing more than a light jacket. Now, it was pouring down with rain, like torrential rain, and you’re stuck under the awning, regretting every decision that led to this moment.
Your plan was simple: catch the late campus shuttle after your study group. But the rain came out of nowhere, and the shuttle left the stop just as you got to there. You called, Garrett, your older brother in a panic, hoping he would be able to swing by and pick you up after his practice.
But instead, his response was exactly what you didn’t want to hear…
Garrett: Logan’s got you. Don’t make it weird.
A truck pulls up to the curb a couple of minutes later, you hear the tires splashing through the puddles that had formed since the rain started, louder than the storm.
Logan leans out his window; his expression was somewhere between amused and impatient. You only know him from Garrett’s post-game hangouts––he’s the guy always cracking jokes in the corner, never paying you much, if any, attention.
“Need a ride?” He asks, the corner of his mouth twitching into a grin. “Or were you planning to wait out the apocalypse?”
You hesitate before climbing in, the heat blasting as Logan shifts into drive. He tosses a towel from the backseat.
“Don’t worry,” he says, glancing at you with a smirk. “Garrett’s already made me promise not to flirt with you… and also promised me eternal gratitude.”
You were surprised he even knew what you looked like to be honest. “Thanks,” you say catching the towel as he threw it.
“Yeah, your brother talks about you constantly, but I always thought he was exaggerating how small you are.” He teases, reaching over to adjust the heater vent. “You look like you might blow away.” You, being a measly 5”2, you don’t have a lot to deny but you look offended anyways.
“Too soon?” He asks, catching your expression out the corner of his eye. “Come on, I’m kidding. You’re not that small.” He pauses, considering. “Okay, you are. But it’s cute.” He shrugs, focusing back on the road.
“You think I’m cute?” You say teasingly.
Logan bursts out laughing, almost swerving into the other lane. “Whoa, okay, I see how this works. Flirt with the guy driving in the rain to make him crash?” He shakes his head, but you notice his cheeks are slightly pink.
“Don’t tell Garrett.” You say facing out the window with a coy smile.
“Your secret’s safe with me,” he says, but his tone is different now, softer. “Never had a cute librarian type try to distract me before.” He winks at you in the mirror, making your stomach flutter.
Once he pulls up outside your dorm building, you open the truck door straight away, you turn to face him before you close the door. “Thanks for the ride.”
“Anytime,” he replies, his smile widening as he watches you hurry inside, the towel wrapped around your shoulders. As soon as you’re out of sight, he lets out a low whistle, running a hand through his hair. “Damn,” he mutters to himself, “Off limits, she’s off limits.”
You head inside your dorm room and pull your phone out.
You: thanks for that awkward car ride, you owe me
Garrett: at least he kept his word and didn’t flirt with you otherwise I’d have his balls on a platter
You: I’m back at my dorm safe and sound
Just as you hit send, your phone buzzes with an unknown number.
Unknown: Garrett forgot to give you my number -Logan
Then another text immediately after.
Unknown: Don’t tell him I texted first
You stare at the screen, heartbeat picking up slightly. Three dots appear below his message, then disappear, then reappear.
Logan: you get in okay?
You: yes all safe and dry 👍🏻
Logan: good 👍🏻
Logan: And hey, I meant what I said earlier. About you being cute. And distracting
He hits send before he can second-guess himself. His thumb hovers over the screen, waiting for your response.
You stare at the screen in disbelief. He’d never even given you the time of day before. Why now?
You: distracting? In what way?
He chuckles softly, typing quickly.
Logan: in the way that makes a guy forget he’s driving in the rain, makes him want to pull over and…
He pauses, deleting the last part before sending it.
Logan: never mind, you know what I mean
His heart pounding in his chest.
You: no, no I don’t know what you mean
He runs a hand through his hair, smiling to himself. He’s enjoying this too much.
Logan: Fine. I’ll spell it out for you. You made me want to pull over and kiss you.
He hits send before he can chicken out, his stomach fluttering with nerves. Your eyes widen at the message, not knowing how to respond.
The typing bubble appears and disappears three times before he sends,
Logan: Cat got your tongue? Or did I actually manage to leave the tiny librarian speechless? 😏
His heart is hammering behind his ribs, feeling like its going to beat so hard it’s going to jump out.
You: stop calling me that
He laughs out loud, his shoulders shaking.
Logan: Okay, okay. No more ‘tiny librarian’ jokes
Logan: so, are you going to ignore my flirtatious confession, or are you going to flirt back? 😉
You: In your dreams, pretty boy
He throws his head back laughing, he loves that you are snarky.
Logan: Oh, it’s definitely in my dreams now. Thanks for that mental image
Logan: you know what?
You roll your eyes at your phone, curious.
You: what?
Logan: since your brother has threatened my balls, I’m going to be the bigger person
Logan: I’m inviting you to the party on Friday. Garrett will be there. I’ll be there. You should come.
Logan: unless you’re scared, I’ll distract you again
You: you would never distract me. And I don’t do parties
You send with a blush on your cheeks. He laughs, shaking his head.
Logan: is that a challenge? Because I think I could definitely distract you if I tried
He leans back against his headboard.
Logan: And come on, live a little. One party. Garrett will be there to play bodyguard. What do you say? 🙏🏻
Logan: Please?
You: fine but I’m not going because you invited me
Logan: Mhm. Keep telling yourself that
He types, laughing to himself. You respond with a middle finger.
The next day, he was texting you all day but you didn’t respond. He sends another message at 10pm.
Logan: Tiny Librarian, if you’re ignoring me to get out of going to the party, I swear to god I will come drag you out of your dorm myself 😡
Logan: Respond.
You text back straight away, annoyed.
You: can you stop calling me that please? 🙏🏻
You: also yes I am ignoring you
Logan: no
Logan: and why are you ignoring me? Because I invited you to a party?
Logan: I’m serious, if you don’t show up tonight. I’m coming to get you.
His messages are getting more demanding.
You: oh yeah? I’d love to see you try!
You replied with a smirk on your face. He won’t actually do it…right? You think to yourself.
Two seconds later, your phone rings––it’s him.
“You think I’m joking?” he says as soon as you pick up, sounding annoyed and maybe a little excited? “I will literally march into that dorm right now.”
“Uh huh.” You mindlessly say into the phone.
“Don’t ‘uh huh’ me.” You can hear the smirk in his voice, which makes it infinitely more annoying. “I’m serious. I am currently putting on my shoes. Do you want me to come over there and carry you out over my shoulder?” The sound of a door shutting in the background. “Because I will.”
“Uh huh.” You repeat again, with a tone of amusement.
There’s a pause on the other end of the line. Then footsteps. “I’m in my truck now.” Another pause. “You don’t believe me, do you?” He starts up the engine, and you can hear it rumble through the phone. “Give me your dorm room number. I’m on my way.” The amusement is gone now––he sounds deadly serious.
“And if I don’t?” You say with a cheeky smile.
“Then I’ll just knock on every door until I find you.” He pauses at a red light, gripping the steering wheel tightly. “And when I do, I’m throwing you over my shoulder and taking you to that party whether you like it or not.” His voice is low, almost dangerous.
You feel a slight flutter in your stomach at his words. But can’t help but say, “372.”
“Great.” He hangs up the phone without another word. Within minutes, there’s a loud knock on your dorm room door. “Come out here, tiny librarian.” His voice is muffled through the door, but you can still hear the authority in it.
You open the door looking hot. Logan was looking you up and down in awe.
“Holy shit,” he breathes out, his eyes widening as he takes in your appearance. You’re wearing a tight black dress that hugs all your curves, with a low neckline that shows off just a hint of cleavage. Your hair was down in soft waves, and your makeup is done perfectly, making your eyes look even bigger and brighter.
You scoff, “yeah yeah, it’s all you ‘guys’ think about. Sex. Women. Boobs.”
“No, no, I wasn’t…” He trails off, swallowing hard as his eyes dip down to your chest for a split second before snapping back up to your face. “I mean, yeah, guys think about that stuff, but… damn.”
“Eyes up here, John Logan.”
“Can’t.” He mutters, then immediately widens his eyes like he shouldn’t have said that out loud. He takes a step closer, invading your personal space completely. “You’re literally the most distracting thing I’ve ever seen in my entire life.” His voice is low, almost growling.
“I think we’ve already established that I distract you. Are we going to the party or what?”
He lets out a dry laugh, running a hand over his jaw. “You’re unbelievable, you know that?” He reaches out, his fingers brushing against the small of your back as he guides you out the door. “Come on. Truck’s downstairs.” He doesn’t drop his hand, keeping it firmly on your waist as you walk.
You don’t move it or anything. Kind of liking the feeling of being ‘protected’.
He notices your lack of resistance and takes it as a good sign. His hand stays on your waist, his thumb gently brushing against the fabric of your dress. As you reach the car, he opens the passenger door for you, his hand lingering on the small of your back until you’re seated.
The whole journey was filled with secret glances and accidental touches.
By the time you arrive, the party is already loud and chaotic. Flashing lights, people grinding against each other, bass thumping through the floor. “Garrett’s out the back if you need an escape.” He leans in close to your ear, the warmth of his breath sending shivers down your spine.
can you write something with angst and fluff on john logan as we all are loving him being a yearner it would be fun to read
Warnings: Fluff, angst, sexual themes but not smut, cursing, alcohol
Pairing: John Logan X Reader
Summary: John Logan has been smitten with you from day one. But in your mind, guys like him don't really exist. This has to be a joke. So he yearns.
Prompts: None
Authors Note: First Off Campus post, I'm ecstatic as a lover of the books and show. Not fully proof read so..ignore any mistakes. Okay thanks!
@themarvelousbox wrote this partly for you because you're my bestie and obsessed with Logan. 💕
Dancing was not normally my thing but I have enough alcohol flowing through my veins that I forgot to care as my hips sway to the loud music. Which in itself is funny as I rarley drink. I guess that is what happens when you find your dynamic duo making out with the guy you've been crazy about for months. Dynamic duo, my ass. Friends don't make out with other friends crushes.
I try to tell myself it's not that deep as I make my way back to the crowded kitchen for more alcohol, pushing past the alarming amount of shirtless guys. Mostly everyone is some sort of drunk and common sense is starting to disapear all together. I barley make it out of the way of a couple attacking each others face and feel a body bump into mine.
"Wow you good?" Probably one of the sexiest voices I have ever heard says calmly. Turning, I see who I collided with.
John Logan.
"Y-yeah..sorry..was trying not to become that couples third."
A warm chuckle comes from him as he moved aside, providing me space to lean on the counter next to him. God, he was hot. "I don't think they would notice if you did."
A small smile grazes my lips. "No? Guess it wouldn't be that exciting then. I'll just stick to alcohol."
An amused smile grazes's his lips as he reaches into the ice next to him and grabs me a can "Here. Can is safer."
My chest tightens at that thoughtful gesture. "Thank you"
"Yeah, of course. I don't mean to pry but you look sad. Did something happen?"
I take a drink of the can IPA he gave me and think before I speak. "It's going to sound stupid."
"Tell me anyway." He said in a soft voice, moving closer, our bodies close to touching again as more people crowd the space.
"My friend and I came here together..she's my dynamic duo..and I walked in on her making out with this guy I've had a crush on for months. She knows about it too. I mean technically she did nothing wrong. We aren't dating-"
"Nope. Fuck that. That's not stupid. You don't have to be dating the guy for that to sting."
My shoulders move up in a quick shrug and I can feel Logans eyes trailing over my face as I take another drink. "Come with me."
"What? Where?"
"It's a surprise but I decided you aren't going to be sad the rest of the night over a guy who probably didn't deserve you anyways and a shitty friend." He says while giving me a charming smile.
I get butterflies in my stomach as I nod. "Fine just no killing me. This is stranger danger."
John chuckles as he takes my hand, guiding me out. "This is not stranger danger. We know each others first names from lit class."
"Everyone knows your name."
"Well that's even more reason not to kill you. If I did everyone would say you left with John Logan and I'd be fucked. I'm not a very good liar."
The laugh that comes out of me feels so natural, I barley remember I was upset five minutes ago. Logan leads me outside and down the road to an empty park. Then he leads me to a swing set, the swings moving slightly in the breeze.
"I thought maybe you could use some quiet and this is far enough that we shouldn't be able to hear the music or obnoxious drunk college students." He flashed a grin as he sat on one of the swings.
"Darn." I say as I sit in the swing next to him. "Seeing people barf in yards is a hobby of mine actually."
It's peaceful and comfortable. Banter is easy with him.
"Babe..I hate to break it to you but your hobbies are fucked up." He flashes me that damn grin again followed by his chuckle. "So..what's your biggest secret?" Logan asks out of the blue.
"You want to know my secrets now Logan?" I smile softly, looking at him.
"I want to know everything about you actually, just thought that was a good ice breaker." He grins "How about we start with your favorite color?"
I answer him and the night continued with random questions being answered, laughing at ridiculous jokes, me ranting about books I love and him telling me all about his hockey dreams.
Maybe I was drunk, maybe I was tired, but I could have sworn he was looking at me like I was important. Like no guy has ever looked at me before..
Yeah...definitely tired.
"You disappeared at the party." My friend Piper says as we sip our coffees on a campus bench.
"Yeah, I was having a bad night so Logan took me to a park for some quiet." I say nonchalantly as I scroll on my phone.
"Logan..John Logan? As in Briar hockey player.."
"Yes. I bumped into him when I went to get another drink and he could tell I was upset."
A sarcastic laugh sounds next to me and I look up at Piper.
"Yeah..right. And I fucked Dean Di Laurentis."
"I think he'd fuck anyone so I'm not sure why that would be a crazy thing." I turn to look at her "Do you not believe me?"
"It's just weird. I say you vanished and now you magically were with one of the most popular guys in school."
"So because you didn't see me..it's not real? You didn't even ask why I was upset."
"You can tell me why, just don't lie about who you were with."
I scoff. "You're unbelievable. I was upset because I saw you making out with Jack who you knew I had a thing for, now you're saying I'm a liar."
"You were never going to talk to Jack anyways. I mean I'm sorry if it upset you but you don't need to make up hanging out with a hock-"
"There you are." A deep voice interrupts Piper, who's eyes go wide upon hearing it.
I turn to see, of course, John Logan standing there with his killer grin. "Hi." I squeak out.
"I've been looking for you all day. You're surprisingly hard to find." He sits and puts his arm around my shoulders, pulling me closer. "So who is this?" He looks a Piper. "Let me guess, the "Friend" who was making out with the guy you liked."
"I-I-it was just a misunderstanding." Piper goes pale.
"Them being upset wasn't a misunderstanding."
"Well I just.."
"And I heard you saying you don't believe them."
I know I'm failing horribly at hiding my smile at this point. The reaction of Piper as Logan calls her out instantly perked my mood up.
"It was just-"
"Hard to believe that I'd spend time with them let alone be into them? Well I am." He squeezes my shoulder.
I look up at Logan in surprise until it clicks. He's just saying this to defend me against Piper because he's a good guy. That's all this is.
"I'm going to go." Piper stands and collects her things then walks away quickly. I never even glance at her.
Logan turns his attention back to me. "Sorry about that, she was just pissing me off."
I can't help but laugh at that. This man just showed up out of nowhere when I needed him, defended me against a mean girl, pretended to show interest in me and is now apologizing. "Are you serious?"
"What?" He furrows his brows.
"Logan you just saved my reputation and you're saying sorry?"
"......Maybe?"
A laugh leaves me again and I shake my head. After a few moments, Logan laughs with me.
"This isn't what I ordered." A voice says, the sharpness of it snapping me out of my own head.
"I'm sorry?" I say, looking down at the plate of food I just dropped off.
"This isn't what I ordered. I clearly said I wanted extra ketchup on the side and it's not there."
I look down at the grumpy, bald man sitting with a french fry gripped in his fist. "I'm so sorry sir, we'll get that fixe-"
"How damn hard is it to do ask I asked the first time?!" He raised his voice, not fully yelling but loud enough to get attention from other tables.
"Hey!" A voice I have come to know to well called out. Turning, I see Logan standing up from his chair, his friends looking at him both with confused and amused expressions. "They said they would fix it. What else do you want? Chill out."
I turn and give a small smile over my shoulder, mouthing a quick thank you before I turn back to the man in front of me. "Hockey players..am I right? I'm so sorry about this, it's our mistake, I'll get it fixed and get you a slice of pie on the house. How's that sound?"
"Well..I guess that's fair." The bald man nodded.
"Happy to do it." I flash him my customer service smile and go to get the missing ketchup and pie.
"You're so fucked." I hear the unmistakable voice of the one and only Dean Di Laurentis say as I pass the boys table. I pretend like I'm not paying attention as I get what needed for my customer, but my eyes keep drifting to Logan..
"What are you talking about? I was just being a good person..that guy was an ass. I'd defend anyone..."
"You probably would but this was different." Garrett added in a teasing tone.
"You guys are reading into things. Come on..back me up Tuck."
"Oh no. I definitely agree with them. You're whipped."
A smile grazes my lips as Logan lets out a loud sigh and glances my way. I pretend not to notice but my heart is racing, surely they are just kidding. Logan would never like me like that. Besides there has to be some flaw I haven't seen yet.
No guy is that..perfect.
I walk past the boys table and to my customer, trying to pretend I hadn't heard anything said between the friends. That part, I realized was easy, pretending not to feel Logans eyes burning into my back wasn't. I didn't feel tense, I didn't feel uncomfortable. I felt wanted and that scared me.
"You're crying." Logans gentle voice snaps my attention away from my phone and up to his worried expression. "What happened?"
"It's not what you think." A small embarrassed chuckle leaves me as I wipe my eyes quickly.
Logan tilts his head like a lost puppy, the concern showing more. "Did someone hurt you?"
"What? No. Logan." A small giggle leaves me
"Because I will fuck them up Y/N. I swear to god. Whoever made you cry-"
"Logan!" I laugh again.
Logan turns his head back to me, brows furrowed in confusion. "Then what is it?"
"Those were happy tears from a tiktotk I watched."
The look on Logans face is almost enough to send me into histarics. His brows rise so high I swear they are about to touch his hairline. "A tiktok. A tiktok made you cry?"
"Yes. Because humans can be sweet and cute when they want to be and when I get reminded of that, I get emotional. Sue me."
"Bab-" Logan clears his throat and pulls his eye contact away from me, shifting to my phone instead. "There is nothing wrong with being emotional over these things. I just thought someone upset you."
I can't help but blush softly at his words. I wipe the last stray tear clinging to my lash line and look over at him. "Would you actually care that much if someone did?"
"Of course I would." He looks at me, clear confusion on his face.
"No, I mean. I know you care because you're a good person and would care if anyone was crying but I just mean..you say it like you care about me personally. That I am crying." I ramble, looking down at my hands as I do.
"I do care because it's you." He almost whispers, his hand reaching for mine.
I lift my eyes to meet his that are already waiting for me. There is something unreadable about them. Something full of warmth and longing.
"You don't have to just say that."
"I'm not just saying it." He assures gently.
Our eyes search each others for a moment before my nerves get the better of me and I look away. Butterflies swirl around my stomach and I'm suddenly aware of how close we are. "Do you want to see the tiktok?"
Logan blinks back into himself and I can see the disappointment of the moment I ruined. He smiles anyways. "Of course. Show me the tiktok."
Panic takes over my breathing as I pace my dorm room. I'm trying to calm myself down, honestly. But everything in me is screaming something is wrong, I'm wrong. I don't know why I am the way that I am. I take things too seriously, get hurt over meaningless things and people find me annoying. I try desperately to tell myself it's not true but my brain says otherwise.
A knock breaks me from my internal breakdown and I open the door to see Logan standing there, almost looking shy. "Hey." he gives me a weak smile and leans in the door way.
"How...how did you find my dorm?"
"I saw one of your friends on campus and asked which building your dorm was in then I knocked on every door until I found yours." He's silent for a minute. "Okay that sounds way more creepy than I thought."
I can't stop the small giggle the leaves my lips. I already feel lighter and he just got here.
"I'm not creepy, I swear. It's just you weren't answering my texts and I wanted to see you. I felt like something was wrong." He looks at me, really looks me. "Hey, what's wrong?"
The gentleness in his voice makes me tear up again. "It's stupid."
"No, don't do that baby. I've got you just talk to me." He reaches up and gently wipes away a tear that escaped my lash line.
"It's just a bad day. I feel like I'm wrong. Like I'm too much or something. I can't really explain it."
Logan takes both my hands in his and kisses them. "It's okay to have a bad day. But I need you to listen to me." He loweres himself to look in my eyes. "You are not too much. You are not broken. You are not annoying or whatever else your brain is saying to you. You are perfect, there isn't a thing I would change about you. I admire, adore everything I have come to learn about you and I want to know more."
I look over his face, taking in ever detail on emotion. I know he is genuine but when I see the look in his eyes, I know he means every word.
"Are you tearing up again? Fuck no. Did I say something wrong?"
"No you silly man, you said exactly the right thing." A tearful laugh escapes me.
"Then why are you crying again sweetheart?"
"Because I have never had anyone to be here through this, to tell me what I need to hear...and mean it." A small laugh leaves my lips. "You knocked on every door until you found mine. How are you real?"
"I just missed you." He blushes a bit, squeezing my hands.
"Thank you."
"Thank you for what?" Logan looks over my face again.
"Everything. For make me feel better that night of the party, sticking up for me when that customer yelled at me, caring when you found me crying on campus and now. You've just always been there from me since we met."
"It's easy..I can't get you off my mind." He breathed out. He lets go of my hand and slowly reaches to my cheek. His palm cups it and his soft but calloused skin warms it. "You don't have to thank me, for anything."
"Well too bad. I want to." I lean into his touch. "So what can I do to pay you back."
A smirk grazes his lips and I instantly think maybe I should be scared. "You really want to know?"
"Oh god..on second thought..."
Logan chuckles softly. It's breathy and warm, all my nerves from before are instantly gone. "Come to my game on Friday and wear my jersey."
"That's it?"
"That's it baby." He presses a soft kiss to my head.
"Fine then. It's a Deal."
As promised I showed up to the game in Logans spare jersey. I felt a sense of pride knowing his last name was in big white letters on my back. Like I was his, he was mine and now we were telling the world.
I take my seat, an open one next to Hannah that is suspiciously close to the ice. I guess Logan arranged that too when he told me to sit by Wellsy.
"Y/N hi!" Hannah grins and moved her bag out of my chair. "I was so excited when Logan said you'd be coming."
"Hi." I smile. "Yeah he practically forced me." I tease as I sit.
"I wouldn't be surprised. He's been talking about you for almost a month now."
"What?" I blink and look at her.
"Oh..oh..I just mean that he." Hannah sighs and looks at me. "You know he likes you. Right? I mean really likes you."
"He's my friend, of course he likes me." I blush at her words.
"No, no. Don't do that. He like likes you."
"He's never said anything."
"Maybe he hasn't said it, but he's shown it hasn't he?"
I start replaying all our past interactions in my head after Hannah says that. It's true. He has. Every time I needed him, he showed up. Even if he got it wrong and I wasn't really sad, he tried to comfort me. He defended me against my shitty friend without hesitation, stood up for me when I had a rude customer, went to every dorm room trying to find mine. Even that very first night, he put my comfort first. He always puts me first.. "Holy shit" I breath.
"You see it now?" Hannah tilted her head with a glowing smile.
"Yeah. I think I've been blind, and an idiot. A blind idiot." I let out a shaky laugh. "He's been right in front of me this whole time and I pushed it away."
"Well, good news is you have tonight to fix that. You're here for him and that's already something."
"You're precious Hannah."
She grins widely. "So I've been told." With that she turns to the ice and waves at Garrett as he passes. Logan, who's not far behind him stops to give me a smile through the plexiglass.
Feeling brave, I blow him a kiss. Logan grins widely and pretends to catch it before skating after Garrett again.
"Oh you're so down bad." Hannah nudges my shoulder playfully.
We watch the game intently after it starts, I'm cheering so loud I'm sure my voice will be gone tomorrow. Just when I think I can't get any louder. Logan scores the game winning goal. I'm on my feet before I even think about, clapping and yelling Logans name proudly.
"Hell yeah, John Logan wins for the hawks. You can see the excitement." Jules says from the other side of me as they pan their camera to me. "Anything to say about it Y/N?"
"John Logan is a bad ass and I'm so proud of him!" I grin and turn to show off the back of my jersey, his name loud and proud. I'm grinning so wide and I want everyone to know..Logan is my person.
"You were amazing!" I yell as I ran towards Logan. He had just finished up in the locker room and met us outside. Garrett went to Hannah and from the corner of my eye I could see them embracing but I really just cared about getting to Logan.
He embraced me the moment we met, I could feel his joy radiating off of him. "I'm serious Logan. You were so so amazing. I'm so proud." I pull my face back so I could look up at him. He was already looking at me, with the softest eyes I've ever seen. Like none if this mattered if I wasn't there. Before I could think about it. I kissed him.
He melts into it quickly, his lips moving with mine. It's soft and gently but full of want. I spent so long talking myself out of this, saying he was just being nice, that he couldn't want me like this. Deprecating my value and worth because I was insecure.
But Logan..god Logan. Not once did he give up on me, not once did he make me feel like I was worth less. He's been steady, waiting for me to see how he wanted me.
Now I wanted to return the favor.
Logan moved a hand into my hair as he kisses me slightly deeper. I can feel his smile against my lips as we move together. Time seems to slow and all I focus on is him. I bring my hand up and play with the hair at the nape of his next, taking my time in the kiss. Nothing rushed. Everything perfect. It's minutes before we finally part, foreheads rested on each other.
Logan grins at me, his hand moving to cup my cheek. "Do you know how long I have waited for that?"
"Yeah..I think I just figured it out." I breath.
"I want you, all of you. I want to proudly say your mine and I'm yours."
"Do I get to keep wearing the jerseys?"
Logan lets out a warm chuckle. "You can have whatever you want baby, so long as I get to have you."
"I'm yours. Finally."
"Thank god." Logan breaths against my lips then kisses me again.
His lips against mine and I wonder why did I wait so long?
𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐤 𝐚𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭 : none! mention of dicks, walking into changing room full of guys? swearing? dramatic, feral Hannah. Established Hannah X Garrett, Allie X Dean, crackfic!
𝐞𝐯𝐚𝐥𝐮𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 : If a small, angry music major student were to a) be one of your best friends and b) insist on going to hunt down her boyfriend to shove her phone up his ass. would you argue, even if it meant bursting into the locker room after practice?
or
When you, Allie and Hannah walk into the changing rooms, omitting the fact that they'd just finished practice.
𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞 𝐨𝐧 𝐢𝐜𝐞 : 4.5k words
𝐛𝐮𝐧𝐧𝐲’𝐬 𝐥𝐨𝐜𝐤𝐞𝐫 : something to tide ya'll over as I work through my big bertha fics for yall, and yes, I will start planning the first part of my series... when I feel like it! She's a slow grower ykwim? grower not a shower? whatever helps me sleep at night. Hope you like this little piece! Thank you @mndvx for the gif and @somebitchprobably-graphicdump for the dividers !
𝐥𝐨𝐜𝐤𝐞𝐫 𝐩𝐚𝐬𝐬𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 : I would really appreciate if you could send in an ask to be on my taglist, it's easier for me to manage and make sure everyone is added!! here is the post of my current taglist. Also, if your user is bolded, I'm going on a prayer that youve been tagged but Tumblr wouldn't let me properly do so. I would recommend checking your privacy settings to allow other people to tag you.
One thing you learnt about Hannah Wells, being one of her best friends and all, was that she was normally- a very reasonable person. She was the one to keep electrolyte sachet’s in her bag during a night out, the one to book the uber a day in advance and the one to always text check-ins on the group chat during finals week.
That was her, normally.
Unfortunately, ever since she decided to become the first hockey WAG in the group, the captain she shared a bed with had spent their entire relationship testing that theory. The relationship was undoubtedly adorable, some may say to a disgusting, how-to-lose-a-guy-in-10-days level, but sometimes Garrett would feel the need to use Hannah's tightly strung mental stability as a pair of chopsticks.
“Just, tell me again why we’re doing this?” You watched Hannah with a concerned expression, she was aggressively highlighting a sentence that had absolutely nothing to do with the paragraph she'd just read.
The yellow highlighter squeaked angrily across the page,"You know why," She gritted out.
"No, I know why you're angry,” You pointed at the highlighter.
"I'm asking why that textbook is suffering for it."
The answer never came, but that was attributed to the fact that Hannah was still busy glaring at her notes like they had personally offended her. Beethoven was a bitch.
The study room had fallen suspiciously quiet about twenty minutes ago, with Allie laying on the sofa in the corner going through a script for class and you and hannah sitting on the large table in the centre of the glass box, you scribbling out statistics equations and Hannah trying to compose a new piece.
The initial productivity went out the window when Hannah began to complain about Garrett, either of you could have stopped her, put a pin in it and dealt with it at home. Instead, Allie and you happily discarded your work and quipped helpful bits of advice during her rant.
"You know what his problem is?"
You exchanged a glance with Allie, both of you knew it was better if nobody answered- experience had taught you this was a trap.
"He says he'll call me."
Hannah pointed at her phone that she had flung across the table at the beginning of her speech, "then doesn't call me."
You nodded, the man had a habit of saying he’ll call after practice- then take hours in the locker room with the boys. Your own boyfriend had done that more times than you could count, but you made peace with it very early on; assuming it was because the boys were engrossed in some weird, hockey bro hangout while they changed.
It was nonetheless a reasonable complaint, because the team was AWOL for nearly the entire day, and the three of you were suffering for it. Ever since Garrett returned from the bench, after the fight that led to his suspension, training was 24/7 and you were lucky to get a morning kiss at the crack of dawn and a small whisper of seeing you later before the door shut, leading their phones seeming to have fallen off the face of the planet.
So, if Graham had promised he’d “see his girl tonight” because he “missed her so much” and then had the gall to not reply to her messages for half an hour. You were prepared to ride at dawn, and steal his skates to rub against concrete for as long as your drill sergeant ordered.
However, currently the drill sergeant was pink in the face and grabbing at her phone, stretching herself over her textbook to wave the device angrily.
"And then when I text him asking where he is-"
You already knew this wasn't going to end well.
"He sends me a thumbs up."
The silence was immediate, you gaped at Allie, she gaped back. It was two fishes staring at each other while Hannah slumped into her chair.
It shouldn't have been shocking, it was exactly the sort of thing Garrett would do. But he was an idiot for deciding to not fight against his nature during this trying time.
Allie lowered the script she had folded against her legs, flopping it onto her chest as she sat up. Slowly, carefully, as if she’d been told there was a rabid animal that could sense her fear.
"A thumbs up?"
"A thumbs up."
"Oh."
"Exactly."
You shook your head and closed your eyes. This was rough, like Liverpool F.C rough.
"I know he meant well."
That sentence was somehow worse, because she was trying to be rational. And when Hannah was angry and tried to be rational, it usually resulted in disaster.
"Did he think?"
Allie's contribution was deeply unhelpful.
Hannah jumped and gave her a thankful clap, "THANK YOU."
"I'm just saying."
You groan and give her a look of deep regret, "You are not helping."
"I wasn't trying to." She grinned at you.
Hannah dropped her head onto the table, face first into her music sheets. The universal sign of academic and emotional defeat.
You watched her lie there for a moment.
Then another
Then-
"I am going to kill him."
You roll your eyes and cross your arms, there it was. The threat you’d all been waiting for, Allie checked her phone, nodding her head.
"Only ten minutes."
"A personal best." You added.
Hannah stood up immediately, the chair scraped obnoxiously against the floor- as if warning her not to do the thing she was absolutely going to do. Both you and Allie looked up, concerned at the way she blinked quickly, the cogs in her head turning so fast that you were sure smoke would start spilling from her ears.
You recognised the look on her face, a dangerous determination, masked by an eerie calm. In actuality it was a complete loss of common sense
"Hannah." Allie started, warningly.
"No."
"You haven't even heard the question."
"I know the question."
The smile spreading across Hannah's face made your stomach drop. It was a Hannah Has An Idea smile and historically speaking, those had a terrible survival rate.
You racked your brain for what she could possibly be plotting. Then your face fell. Practice had ended approximately fifteen minutes ago. Which meant the boys were currently finishing up at the rink. A fact that should've been irrelevant, so painfully ordinary that it was similar to breathing. Instead, it somehow became the most important detail in the room.
“Hannah, no-”
She had already grabbed her bag and started walking towards the door. Allie scrambled to her feet, shoving her stuff into the tote she randomly picked up when you left that morning. You did the same, not caring that you messily crumpled up your work into your bag, instead more focussed on watching Hannah strut out of the library, stomping through the isles- not paying you any mind.
You panted when you caught up to her, dragging a hand through your hair,
"Oh no."
"Oh yes."
"Hannah."
"No."
"Hannah."
The door to the outside world opened and Allie squinted against the golden hour glow, Hannah’s smile widened dangerously,
"I am going to find my boyfriend."
The first sign this was a terrible idea came when Hannah ignored the boys leisurely walking out of the athletes' building, their hair damp from showers, you recognised a few, some from the calisthenics club, you waved at the girls on the swim team and pointedly flipped off the lewd comments from the lacrosse team. Eugh.
The second sign came when she didn’t listen to your warnings.
The third came when she barely blinked at the coach giving her a confused greeting.
By that point, frankly, the universe had done everything it reasonably could.
"Hannah."
No response.
"Hannah."
Still nothing.
The woman marched through the arena, stumbling sharply against the chairs. You inched through behind her, holding Allie's hand as she huffed and whipped her bangs out of her eyes, glaring at Hannah, who was already at the bottom of the staircase, about to turn into the back corridor.
Neither of you were particularly interested in letting your best friend commit relationship homicide without witnesses.
"Hannah."
"What."
The answer arrived instantly. She stilled just before the dim pathway towards the locker room, hands braced on her backpack straps, her shoes tapped on the floor expectantly.
"You do realise practice literally just ended."
"Correct."
"You do realise hockey players are probably changing."
"Correct."
You looked at Allie, whose eye was twitching at her best friend's unwavering need for vindication.
"You're concerning me."
She rolled her eyes and dashed down the hallway, you recognised this part of the training facility instantly, it was embarrassing the amount of times you had waited here, leaning against the wall for Logan to emerge, his chain glinting in the yellow lighting as he hauled equipment over one shoulder, the other carried his own gear.
He would kiss you quickly, mumbling against your lips about missing you, and then dump all the random sticks and bags of pucks into the storage before slinging an arm around your shoulder, slowing to a leisurely stroll as you recounted your day.
You rounded the corner, and froze. Allie bumped into you, whining as she rubbed her nose.
The locker room doors sat at the end of the corridor. You stared ahead, and blinked when Hannah barely stopped- charging forward.
"Hannah."
"No."
"Hannah."
You cupped your hands around your mouth and shouted after her, jogging behind. "What exactly is your plan here?"
"I am going to find Garrett."
"Then?"
"Then I am going to explain why sending a thumbs up was stupid."
Allie threw her hands up and blocked her pathway to the door, "Hannah."
"No." She tugged down Allie’s arms, and pushed the girl out of the way. Before either you or Allie could stop her, Hannah grabbed the door handle, and it was like the world slowed.
"HANNAH!"
The door opened and you immediately regretted the day you were born. The silence hit you like the torrential stream of water in a car wash, burning your eyes as a gasp got stuck in your throat.
Then your brain caught up with what was in front of you- because unfortunately, disastrously, hockey practice had ended, extremely recently. So recently in fact, that half the team were still in the showers hooting and hollering, while the other half were dripping wet in front of their cubbies. Staring straight at you, towels paused mid-dry.
You froze.
Hannah froze.
Allie froze.
The hockey team froze.
Time itself appeared to freeze.
"Oh my God." Allie giggled shrilly, her eyes wide as her hand came up to stifle a mix between a gasp and sob.
It wasn’t the shirtless hockey players that disturbed you. It was the penis’.
Everywhere.
Anywhere.
Dicks floor to ceiling, no matter where your troubled eyes would take you, it was phallic body parts all around. A sight that would haunt you until graduation.
The team were the first one to snap out of the trance, some of them barely phased at the intrusion, the other half silently covered their junk and shouted brokenly for the people you were actually looking for.
“What?” Logan’s voice shouted from beyond the showers, luckily you were far enough away to avoid the sight of your boyfriend and his teammates in the steamy, tiled cheap porno setting.
You accidentally made eye-contact with one of the freshmen on the team, and he winked at you. The expression on your face must've been unbelievably unimpressed because he rushed to get dressed immediately after his failure.
That made your survival instincts finally activate.
You spun around immediately, a sensible decision on your part.
Unfortunately, Allie had chosen the exact same strategy.
The two of you collided at full speed.
"OW."
The yelp escaped simultaneously. One second you were turning around, the next your shoulder crashed into Allie's.
Your foot caught on your other ankle, and suddenly gravity joined the party. The floor rushed upwards, the world tilted and you were convinced this was your rapture.
Two seconds away from meeting your untimely demise, strong arms caught you before impact.
"Oh my God, babe?" The voice sounded familiar and you braced yourself for his bewildered expression when you squinted your eyes open. Logan’s face was approximately six inches away and you felt the towel he had hurriedly wrapped around himself slip low down his hips against your waist.
"Nope, don’t ask." You closed your eyes against the water droplets splashing onto your face from his hair. The tickle of his silver chain against your cheek made you wave your hands between the two of you. You could feel him gearing up to ask something,
A finger wag in his face and a simple, "Nope." made him laugh as he hoisted you up.
Across from you, Dean had already reached Allie, looking equally concerned and delighted.
"Are you okay?" His arms were bound securely around her, pressing in front of him.
Allie flicked his forehead, "Stop smiling."
"I'm not smiling."
"You absolutely are."
Dean was moments away from framing the incident and hanging it on a wall, it was when Allie had steadied herself and stepped fractionally away from him that you noticed Dean hadn’t managed to grab a towel. And stood naked, right in front of you. As bare as the day he was born.
You retched loudly and tried to run out the door, forgetting that Logan was still holding you upright, an arm around your waist- hand steadying your shoulder.
Deeply and violently, you groaned- accepting that this was your life right now, "Please tell me I died."
The laughter around you doubled in volume, a few of the guys chirping at you.
Somewhere behind Logan, Garrett appeared, towel around his waist- completely oblivious to the chaos playing out with his team.
"What happened?"
The silence that followed was immediate, the boys pursed their lips together, you and Allie were engrossed in anything that didn't involve Hannah.
She glared at him slowly, dangerously. Garrett took one look at her expression, and his eyes ping ponged around the changing area, the open door, the duo of embarrassed girlfriends- one of them looking at her boyfriend seductively, the other hiding her face in her hands. And finally the boys, Dean who was playing into Allies flirting- butt naked. And Logan who was stifling a laugh against your shoulder as you shook your head silently into your palms.
Understanding dawned, making him rush over to his bag and dig out his phone, his eyes widening at his girlfriend, "Oh."
The idiot actually laughed. Hannah looked ready to gouge his eyes out with his stick. And somehow, unbelievably, things were about to get worse.
By dinner the same day, everybody knew, not just the team, not just other teams. The entire student population.
People in your classes, people in the library, people in the campus cafes. Somehow all of them must've collectively received an email.
You still didn't know how, no matter how hard you searched the gossip account, your dm’s, hunted through stories. There was no way to determine how the hell the situation had reached every set of ears at Briar. You'd spent the better part of twelve hours trying to figure it out.
The incident had happened at approximately 9 am that morning.
By six-fifteen, two members of the lacrosse team had smirked at you in passing.
By seven, somebody in a study group asked if you were "recovering."
By eight-thirty, a girl in your dorm-block had winked.
"Tell me again why I haven't transferred,” You dropped your forehead onto the cafeteria table.
Across from you, Hannah looked equally traumatised as she picked at her dinner, Allie looked murderous as another pair of irrelevant students giggled as they passed by.
The three of you had spent the entire day suffering.
Allie slumped in her chair, "Because we're seniors."
You stabbed aggressively at your salad. "Unfortunately,” mouth half-full of lettuce you continued, "You know what the worst part is?"
Nobody answered, mostly because nobody wanted to encourage you.
"The fact we literally didn't do anything."
"THANK YOU."
Allie pointed dramatically.
"THANK YOU."
The cafeteria table rattled slightly, you winced and gave her an accusing stare. While the passion was appreciated, the volume was not.
"We walked into a room." Hannah shrugged
"Accidentally." Allie added.
"Then left."
"Immediately."
You threw your hands up, "And somehow everyone is acting like we joined an orgy."
The three of you sat in offended silence, completely justified silence. Silence that lasted approximately four seconds.
Then somebody cleared their throat and you closed your eyes, praying to whatever god that put you in that situation this morning, wasn’t just deciding to test your self control.
You swore, if you opened your eyes, and the person who you thought it was, was standing in front of you. There would be a search warrant for your name, and a blown up ice rink in your wake.
"No."
Across the table, Hannah groaned and Allie made a sound like she was ready to throw something. The answer came before you opened them, pressing your lips to your hands that were held together in a praying position, you shook your head, "No."
Because standing directly behind you was, Dean who was grinning so wide, you’d think Santa Clause gifted him a dildo, Garrett, currently more occupied in flashing his puppy dog eyes at Hannah and Logan, the only useful one, who came bearing gifts with an apologetic yet amused smile on his annoyingly handsome face.
The Three Horsemen of Making Things Worse.
"Oh, come on.” Dean looked genuinely offended, hand on his chest as he pulled out the seat next to you, in front of Allie.
She threw one of Hannah’s chips at his face, which he caught in his mouth, "We came to support our girlfriends! amidst their public cancellation from society."
"You came to laugh at us." You corrected, ignoring the paper container that slid in front of your tray and the weirdly shaped Logan entity that sat on the other side of you.
The smile on Dean's face widened, "How ‘bout both?"
Hannah dropped her fork and lunged at him, only held back by Garrett- who had two fingers looped into her belt loop.
During this, you peeked into the container, flicking open the lid to see a slice of your favourite cake- red velvet from the bakery just outside campus.
You glanced at Logan and stuck your tongue out at him in response to his pleading expression. There it was, you thought- your eye twitching, the complete lack of shame astounded you.
You hated the smug bastard. A deep, passionate hate. But you still gave him a quick peck, intertwining your hands beneath the table and placed them on his thigh. He suppressed a grin and leaned back in his chair watching you cut into the pastry with your fork.
"How's recovery going?" Dean rested his chin on his palm, twirling a blonde strand with his finger.
Allie flipped off her boyfriend, "Leave."
Garrett laughed immediately, "You have to admit-"
"No." Hannah interrupted, hands slapping at his wrist which comfortably kept his hand looped into her jeans.
"You don't even know what I was going to say."
"Because it doesn't matter."
"It was funny."
"It wasn't."
"It really was."
The idiot looked entirely too pleased with himself, which was particularly annoying because he wasn't even the one receiving the worst of it.
That honour belonged to you and Allie. Specifically because both of your boyfriends had apparently become the main characters of the story. A fact you deeply resented.
"You know what?" You sat up, “How come nobody is talking about Hannah?”
The entire table went quiet.
Hannah blinked.
"Oh my God." Allie said slowly, "You're right."
"I know."
Hannah immediately looked suspicious, "Why aren't they talking about me?"
Then Allie pointed dramatically, "THAT'S WHAT I'VE BEEN SAYING."
"You haven't said that."
"I've been thinking about it."
Somehow, the entire college manipulated the story into a desperate cliche- that you and Allie were dying to see your boyfriend’s and just. couldn't. wait. for them, so you burst into the changing room, ovulation phase at it's peak and boned down in front of the entire team.
Completely cutting out the bit where you both were trying to stop Hannah from social suicide.
Mission accomplished apparently. The problem now, was that you’d stepped in front of the bullet, and forgot that it meant you’d get shot.
"You started the whole thing." You whined at her.
"EXACTLY."
Dean and Garrett looked delighted.
"You stormed across campus." You held up one finger.
"Correct." Hannah nodded.
"You opened the door." Another finger.
"Correct."
"You ignored approximately fourteen warnings." A third.
"Correct."
"And somehow everyone else became the main characters." You harrumped and slumped back into your seat, glaring at Logan whose arm came up to rest behind you- but you didn’t pull away when he pecked your forehead.
Hannah looked genuinely aghast at her lack of involvement within the gossip mill, "You know what?" She folded her arms, "That is offensive."
"There she is." Dean blew an exaggerated kiss at her, "The victim complex."
Hannah threw a napkin at him.
The situation somehow got worse, a possibility you never thought could be true.
By Wednesday morning, people had started inventing details, ones that didn’t even make sense. Especially because the original story was already embarrassing enough.
Now there were rumours.
Terrible rumours.
Wild rumours.
Factually incorrect rumours.
"I heard somebody say we were recording."
Hannah looked flabbergasted, the pen in her hand creaked as her first tightened.
Across the corridor, Allie stopped walking, "We weren't?"
"Exactly."
"We were too busy being surrounded by cockfest 2026."
The three of you continued toward class, united by shared trauma- forged entirely through public humiliation.
The campus buzzed around you, students heading between lectures, athletes carrying equipment bags, people drinking coffee they absolutely couldn't afford. The usual. Until somebody shouted out your name, the voice was gratingly familiar in a way that made you want to spit out your tonsils.
The guys sitting outside the student centre weren't even subtle about it, the one who called out for you nudged another, the second looked up and smirked.
They were two guys from the lacrosse team. Arguably, you’d think such a fancy sport would produce gentlemen, but the game manufactured slime-balls like the two currently snickering at your deadpan expression.
"Oh look." The smile spread, "The locker room girls."
You stopped mid-step, and you’d known it was a mistake the minute your foot paused, because now they knew you'd heard. The embarrassment hit instantly, like a slap to the face that reached down your throat, hot in a way that made your body burn.
Beside you, Hannah looked ready to throw hands, her eyes narrowing at the boys.
“You got only fans? We’d love to see what happened in the locker room.”
Allie grit her teeth and just as she was about to bite back, a voice interrupted her.
"Say that again."
The atmosphere chilled behind you, one second the lacrosse pair were giggling like little goblins, the next, their faces were frozen with teetering smiles.
You felt an arm wrap around your shoulders. Logan stood next to you, his thumb rubbing soothingly on your arm.
Dean was walking up to Allie, his hands still cupped around his mouth from his interruption. Garrett hung back, but welcomed Hannah into his side when she begrudgingly shuffled up to him.
They had apparently finished a team strategy session, an unfortunate coincidence for the boys in front of you, who suddenly looked significantly less dick-ish.
The one with slicked back, blonde hair looked to his friend- who shrugged and patted him on the shoulder, his lip visibly quivered when he spoke, "What?" the question came out weak.
Dean smiled, two hands braced on his girlfriend's frame. Leisurely almost. "Oh, don't do that." He tilted his head with a pout, "You were really confident thirty seconds ago."
Nobody answered.
Garrett called out, still maintaining a generous distance from the situation- probably not wanting to get too involved with another team as the captain, “You seem like the type to be on only fans Jackson. Is that what you do when you lose to Eastwood?” The disappointment in his voice somehow made it worse.
"Seriously,” Dean shook his head, "Dude, if you're going to talk shit about my girlfriend at least be creative." Allie smacked the front of his chest, but nodded in agreement.
Then Logan spoke, "Find something else to talk about."
Jackson, and the other guy- equally as greasy, dissolved into pitiful excuses and throwaway comments, scoffing as they retreated into the building.
"Holy shit."
Dean grinned, "You're welcome."
"You enjoyed that." Allie poked him accusatorially, leaning up on her toes to kiss his cheek a few times, leaving lipstick prints against his dimple.
"I enjoyed that immensely."
Nearby, Garrett wrapped an arm around Hannah's shoulders and joined the rest of you.
"You know," Garrett said thoughtfully, "I feel like people would've stopped talking about it sooner if Dean hadn't told literally everyone."
The silence was beautiful. The three of you slowly turned to look at Dean, who was gritting out threats at Garrett, a horrified expression gracing his features as he timidly caressed Allie's hair.
"I did not."
Logan punched his shoulder jokingly, like bros talking about whose basketball team won last night, "You absolutely did."
"I told one person."
The universe was finally smiling down on you, since Tucker walked up to the six of you, pushing his curls out of his face.
"You told Tucker." Garrett laughed.
Tucker blinked between the two, who were now engaged in a heated conversation using their eyes.
"That's still one person."
"Dean."
"One person."
"You told the biggest gossip on the hockey team that our girlfriends walked into the changing room after practice and saw everyone's dicks. by accident."
Tucker finally nodded his head with an affirmative sound, “Oh yeah, I’m just annoyed I left practice early for a doctor's appointment.” He patted Dean on the shoulder, grinning as he stirred the proverbial pot, “luckily Dean here, my best friend, the person who tells me everything. Recounted it in perfect detail.”
An argument exploded instantly, involving Allie smacking Dean upside the head and she bickered about how the last 48 hours had been a living hell.
Hannah wasn’t letting Garrett off the hook easily, nagging him that if he had just “replied to her goddamn messages” the three of you wouldn’t have been in there, she quietened and blushed when he whispered in her ear.
Tucker had joined Allie in bashing Dean, but the three of them groaned when Dean promised, “mind-blowing orgasms on every surface of the house”. Allie didn’t say anything further, just glared at him when he hooked a hand onto her waist and pulled her in.
They drifted ahead while they bickered. Leaving you slightly behind with Logan, who had somehow presented an iced coffee from behind his back and was watching you sip it.
"You didn't have to do that." You said mid-sip.
Logan looked over, "What?"
"That."
You gestured vaguely toward the now-empty student centre steps. Logan’s expressions softened slightly as he took your bag from your shoulder and pulled you into him, tucking a hand into your back pocket.
"Yeah." he paused, "Actually, I kind of did."
Your stomach performed a deeply inconvenient little flip.
"Why?"
Logan looked ahead, then to the ground in an almost bashful kind of way, then he shrugged. Like the answer was obvious, "I don't like people making you feel bad."
You cooed at him, grabbing his face with your free hand and squishing his face between your fingers, “You’re such a softie.”
Smacking a kiss to his stubbly cheek, you returned to the drink, gulping it down appreciatively.
He snickered to himself and added unhelpfully, “Plus, kind of owed you since you saw Dean’s cock.”
c/w ᝰ.ᐟ est. relationship, wearing his letterman’s jacket all night, possessive!garrett, praise, dirty talk, car hookup, unprotected p in v, aftercare, pet names (baby, pretty girl + no y/n), garrett is embarrassingly obsessed + language
His hand finds yours as the two of you step onto the sidewalk, weaving through the last handful of fans making their way across the parking lot.
Garrett lasts maybe ten seconds before the corner of his mouth starts tilting into a smile.
By the third time he looks over and finds you already staring at him, you’re actively biting the inside of your cheek trying not to laugh.
“You think this is funny.”
The second he says it, you start laughing.
“See?” He points at you with your joined hands.
“What?”
His head tips back for a second before he looks at you again. “I swear to God, baby, you’re enjoyin’ this way more than you should.”
“Are you gonna tell me what happened back there or not?” You ask.
“They were givin’ me shit.”
“Why?”
“Because they’re idiots.”
“Garrett.”
“No, m’serious.”
“Alright,” you say, knowing if you stop pushing he’ll fold without effort. A laugh slips out of him as he shoves a hand into the pocket of his sweats.
“For the same reason they’ve been givin’ me shit for the last month.”
“Which is?” You ask, squeezing his hand a little tighter.
“You.”
You smile so hard you have to look away. Garrett shakes his head at your reaction, trying to fight his own smile.
“Every time somethin’ happened tonight, I’d look for you.”
“Every time?” Your voice comes out soft and bashful with your eyes locked at the empty parking lot ahead.
“You acting surprised is the craziest part.”
“I am surprised.”
“No, you’re not,” he laughs, looking away for a second.
His arm slides around your waist as the two of you reach the Jeep. The parking lot light flickers overhead, and when he presses your back against the side of the cab, the space around you sinks into darkness.
His hand comes up, cradling the back of your neck as he kisses you, deep and familiar, like he’s been thinking about it since the second he saw you outside the locker room.
“I was gonna ask for that back,” he murmurs against your lips.
“Oh?” You whisper, your hands curling into the material of his sweatshirt.
“Not anymore.”
He kisses you again, catching your bottom lip between his teeth before letting it slip free.
A laugh escapes you, barely more than a breath, your cold hands sliding beneath his sweatshirt and making him shudder against your mouth.
“Walked into that arena lookin’ like you belonged to me.” The words come out rougher that time.
You smile into the kiss as he lifts you off your feet, pressing you lightly against the side of the cab, your arms sliding around his neck and your fingers threading through the curls peeking out beneath the back of his hat.
“Pretty sure I’d give you anything you asked for at this point.”
“Anything?” You whisper, playing with the dark curls at the nape of his neck.
“Mhmm.”
Your smile grows as you tilt your head just enough to meet his gaze.
The anticipation is written all over his face, impossible to miss. His hands are still on you, his eyes fixed on yours, and the sight of it makes another laugh bubble up from your chest. You let him wait a second longer anyway, enjoying it far more than you should before finally whispering—“Backseat?”
The Jeep unlocks with a sharp click, and you immediately start giggling against his mouth.
“God,” Garrett mutters, resting his forehead against yours for a second. “Baby, I was really hopin’ you were gonna say that.”
One hand stays anchored at your waist while the other reaches for the door handle. He pulls it open and steps aside, trying to look casual about it, but the grin spreading across his face ruins the effort completely.
You barely get the door open before he’s behind you, one hand settling at your hip as he helps you climb inside. Your knees hit the cushion, and the door rocks slightly beneath his weight when he follows after you.
Garrett is on you the second the door shuts, one hand braced beside your head as his mouth crashes back into yours.
The cramped space only seems to make him bolder. His hand slides from your waist to your thigh, squeezing hard enough to pull a breath from you, and the sound seems to go straight to his head.
He kisses you deeper, impatient now, like the few seconds it took to climb into the backseat were already too many.
His hand finds the back of your neck again, pulling you into another kiss before either of you can think better of it. The hat flicks off and his sweatshirt disappears somewhere into the dark, tossed aside without a second thought as his fingers slide into your hair.
A low groan rumbles from his throat when your hands find the waistband of his sweats.
“Can’t believe you’re lettin’ me do this,” he murmurs, shaking his head with a quiet laugh that sounds equal parts amused and disbelieving.
“Do what?”
“This.” His eyes flick over your face before a crooked smile pulls at his mouth, his voice falling lower. “In the parkin’ lot. Bet we could make it home if we wanted to.”
You immediately start nodding. “Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
“Okay—” You stop moving for half a second and Garrett lets out a laugh, the sound warm and low in the dark.
“Baby, c’mon.”
You grin. “What? I’m just givin’ you shit.”
“Yeah, well, people need to stop doin’ that tonight,” he mutters, shaking his head. “Been gettin’ roasted for like four straight hours.”
A laugh slips out of you. “Sorry.”
His eyes drop to your mouth. “Yeah?” The corner of his mouth tilts upward. “Then show me,” he mumbles, smiling into the next kiss as his hand drags between your thighs, rubbing your warmth through your clothes.
Your nails trail down his bare chest as you kiss along his neck, feeling the deep groan that rumbles through him.
“Let me see you,” he says.
Your heart stutters as he guides you into his lap. Garrett groans the second you settle over him, your clothed body pressing against him, separated by entirely too much for his liking.
He watches you with heavy eyes and parted lips, his hands already roaming beneath the jacket and jersey, sliding up your back before he undoes your bra in one quick snap.
“Fuck me,” he mutters, the words slipping out before he can stop them. His hands cup your breast as you straddle him and you gasp when his thumbs brush over you, your body arching instinctively into his touch.
“Don’t wanna take this off,” he mumbles, lips finding your neck again, kissing and lingering there as his hands refuse to stay still. “What do you—” His sentence dies halfway through when your hips grind against the thick print of him.
Garrett lets out a rough breath and squeezes his eyes shut for a second before looking back at you. “What do you wanna take off, baby? Anything? Nothin’?” The question comes out rushed, almost distracted. “Whatever you want.”
You shrug off the jacket and pull the jersey over your head, smiling when Garrett’s eyes immediately follow the movement. The bra he’d already unclipped slips easily from your shoulders and his expression goes completely blank for a second.
Then you reach down and pull the letterman jacket back on.
“Holy shit,” he murmurs, leaning back into the seat for a better look. “Yeah, see? That’s the problem right there.” His eyes drag over you again before finding your face. “Been drivin’ me fuckin’ crazy all night.”
Your soft lips lock down on his neck, feeling his pulse racing beneath your mouth before you kiss higher, lips dusting the shell of his ear as you breathe. Garrett lets out a rough groan when your hips roll against him just right, his eyes squeezing shut for a second as he fights for control.
“Oh my God, baby,” he mumbles, his gaze locked on yours before his mouth finds yours again, hot and greedy as you grind down against the outline of him through his briefs.
You keep him pressed right there beneath you, letting him feel every slow roll of your hips as you move against him.
“Baby…” He groans, his head tipping back for a second before his eyes drop again, eyeing the dark gray patch of fabric where the precum gathered.
“Mhmm,” you hum, dragging it out as your hips keep moving.
“Christ. Need to be inside you,” he huffs, the words tumbling out faster this time, his voice already rough. “You’re makin’ me lose my fuckin’ mind.”
His hands slide higher along your thighs before drifting back down again, fingers catching lightly at your leggings. And just like before, you’re already tugging them lower.
Garrett lets out a rough breath, the sound carrying more disbelief than confidence.
“Playin’ the best hockey of my life,” he murmurs, shaking his head like he still can’t quite believe how badly he’s got it. “Away game next weekend… what the hell am I supposed to do without you?”
You reach across the backseat and grab his phone, smiling to yourself.
“Your birthday,” he says immediately, answering before you can even ask for the password, already knowing where this is gonna go.
“Watch it next weekend. Call me after,” you say, leaning closer.
“How’d I get this lucky?” Garrett whispers as his lips dust over yours, lifting his hips just enough to tug his boxers down, his heavy cock hitting his skin.
“You gonna call me, Graham?”
“Yeah,” he says quietly. “But you already knew I was gonna do that.”
You giggle, shaking your head. “Yeah. I’m catching on.”
“Good,” he says.
Garrett’s mouth falls open when your hips start to move. Just the tip of him pressed right against your soaked entrance as you roll your hips with a practiced sway, dragging him through the slickness.
His head thuds back against the seat and a rough groan slips out of him. “Ugh, that’s it. That’s my fuckin’ girl,” he hums, watching you sink down on the first few inches before lifting off again just enough to leave him staring at the sheen of you on him.
“Feels so good,” you sigh, playing with the depth as you watch his composure start to crack. His hips lift off the seat automatically, chasing your warmth without a second thought.
He’s completely done with the teasing now. The easy confidence, the joking, all of it disappears. His biceps and forearms flex as his hands tighten on you, the look on his face giving him away long before his words ever could.
“Baby,” he breathes, voice rough around the edges, eyes fixed and heavy on you as your body moves in the dark. Every bounce of your chest, every flutter of your lashes, every shaky breath that leaves you when the angle hits just right.
He palms your ass, gripping your hips like he can’t decide where he wants to touch you most.
“Garrett,” you whisper, pressing your forehead against his, your breath unsteady. “Feels so—fuck, this feels so good. I’m close—”
“Yeah?” He breathes, the word barely making it out. One hand comes up to tangle in your hair while the other stays anchored at your hip, guiding you closer.
Your eyes pinch shut as he chases the feeling, and the reaction alone has him hanging by a thread.
“Garrett! Fu-uck—” Your voice breaks apart on his name, the sound punching straight through whatever self-control he has left.
His jaw clenches immediately. Not because he isn’t enjoying himself, because he is. Way too fucking much.
“Jesus Christ, baby,” he mutters, his forehead dropping briefly against yours as he fights to stay present, his hands tightening instinctively on your hips. The look on his face says exactly what Dean would’ve been making fun of all night.
“There she is,” he breathes, the words slipping out with a rough laugh. “That’s my girl.”
His hand slides up your back as he watches you come apart in his arms, eyes fixed on your face. A groan slips out of him at the sound of his name when it leaves your lips in a squeal.
“Yeah, baby? Shit.” His chain catches on the sweat slicked on his chest, his lips parted as his eyes start to glaze over with pleasure but he wants your focus. “Look at me.”
His strokes up slowly until he's pounding into you, the wet mess he made squelching through the Jeep as it sways, both of you sure you aren't going to last much longer like this.
"Feels so fucking good," he grits out.
You whimper that you're close, the words barely making it out of your mouth. "Fuck, I'm cumming," Garrett stammers, your pleasure enough for him to break, jaw tightening, brows furrowing, filling you up but refusing to stop until you cum again.
You follow close behind him, pussy fluttering around his cock as it throbs inside you, leaving him sucking in a breath.
You tuck yourself into his neck, both of you breathing hard, your body still trembling as his hands move slowly up and down your back. His lips press absentmindedly against your skin, soft now where they’d been desperate before.
“Damn…” He whispers, voice low and rough, smiling like an idiot as he stops the recording. “I don’t wanna leave.”
A laugh slips out of you, breathless and soft. “Don’t you have that boys’ night?”
Garrett immediately lifts his head, giving you the same look he gave Logan when he asked for a rain check.
“Baby.”
You laugh harder, his hand coming down to give you a play smack on the ass.
“No.”
“Garrett—”
“Hell no.” He’s already shaking his head. “You heard me the first time.”
His arms tighten around you as he settles back against the seat. You hide a smile against his shoulder as his hands drift underneath the jacket.
“I already told you I’m gone next weekend. So I’m spendin’ this weekend with you.” Garrett presses a kiss against your forehead before pulling back just enough to look at you. “Not even a discussion.”
“Sounds perfect,” you mumble, pressing a lazy kiss to his lip.
“My bed sounds too nice,” he chuckles softly. “Stay with me tonight.”
You smile and nod, reaching up to straighten the chain resting against his chest. Garrett catches your wrist before you can pull away, turning your hand just enough to press a kiss against the inside of it.
“Thank you,” he murmurs, his voice quieter than before.
Your brows pull together slightly, head tilting curiously. “For what?”
A crooked smile tugs at the corner of his mouth, looking back at you in his arms like this. “Tonight. Comin’ to the game. Wearin’ my stuff. Puttin’ up with my teammates. This… Especially this. Goddamn.” He shakes his head, laughing softly to himself. “All of it.”
Your hands cup his face, thumbs brushing over the stubble along his jaw while you take him in.
“Of course,” you whisper.
Eventually Garrett reaches for the pile of clothes beside you. He helps you get situated again, carefully gathering everything back together before draping the letterman’s jacket over your shoulders last.
“There,” he says, satisfied immediately.
“Happy?” You ask.
“Mhmm… Very.” His arm settles around your waist, pulling you closer against his side.
“I love you.”
Garrett’s smile softens instantly. “Love you too.” His forehead rests lightly against yours. “Love bein’ yours.”
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c/w ᝰ.ᐟ fluff!!!, est. relationship, teammate chirping, jersey + letterman jacket theft 😌, possessive!garrett, sex mentioned if you squint, ✨smooching✨, dean refuses to let this man know peace + language
⋆✴︎˚｡⋆ bonus linked at the bottom || [smut]-> praise, dirty talk, car hookup, unprotected p in v, aftercare, pet names (baby, pretty girl + no y/n), garrett is embarrassingly obsessed + language
Garrett Graham doesn’t do girlfriends.
At least, that was the story he’d been telling for the last three years.
The same answer he gave his teammates. The same answer he gave whenever a girl started asking questions that sounded a little too much like commitment. The same answer he gave every time somebody in the locker room accused him of getting attached.
No relationships. No complications. No reason to rearrange his life for somebody else.
Then you showed up and completely ruined that plan.
Now he automatically moved to the outside of the sidewalk whenever the two of you walked anywhere together, his fingers laced in yours.
He reached for your bag before you could, slinging the strap over his shoulder while you complained that you were perfectly capable of carrying it yourself.
He stayed awake longer than he meant to, stretched across his bed with his phone in his hand, waiting for the text that told him you’d made it home.
And somehow, without really noticing when it happened, he’d started giving you his things. Which should’ve concerned him. Because Garrett liked his things.
His hockey sticks lined up exactly where he left them. His Jeep. His routines. His clothes. Especially his clothes.
He loved the way his jerseys seemed to fit you just right, skimming and teasing your curves when you tossed it on after sex, dressed in nothing more than his last name, a pair of panties.
And every time he turned around lately, something of his seemed to be in your hands. Garrett had a bad habit of handing you things and never asking for them back.
The letterman jacket was different. Maybe because it wasn't just another sweatshirt—maybe because he'd worn that thing for years.
Maybe because he'd left it at your apartment the night before after tossing it over a chair, fully intending to grab it on his way out the next morning. Instead, he'd stumbled out five minutes late for morning skate with his mind lost somewhere between the sheets and that goodbye kiss.
And when you showed up to puck-drop dripping in royal blue, he almost lost his edge completely.
His jersey. His letterman’s jacket. That dainty necklace he'd bought you for your birthday peeking through the space in between whenever you moved.
You looked like every hockey girlfriend fantasy he never admitted he'd been carrying around in the back of his mind. The kind of thing he'd spent years pretending he didn't want.
The kind of thing he'd caught the guys talking about on the bench between shifts; somebody waiting in the tunnel after the game, secretly texting from the gym when they’re supposed to be in a team workout, gifting jerseys, giving them a reason to look up into the crowd instead of the back of the net.
Now he couldn't shut up about you either.
You laugh at something the person next to you says before turning toward the ice, and even from halfway across the arena, Garrett catches the smile that spreads across your face the second you spot him.
Dean slashes him lightly as they skate out toward center ice, following Garrett's line of sight into the crowd. The second his eyes land on you, a grin breaks across his face.
"Holy shit,” Dean gasps dramatically.
Garrett immediately groans, throwing his head back, already knowing exactly where Dean’s gonna take this.
"You seein’ what I’m seein’, buddy?" He laughs, looking back toward the stands like he can't quite believe what he's seeing. "She looks good in your jacket—"
“Does she now?” Garrett asks with a challenging bite, latching onto the part where Dean said his girl looked good and ignoring the rest entirely.
Dean lets out another laugh, skating alongside him as they reset for the next shift. Garrett adjusts his grip on his stick, dropping his gaze to the tape wrapped around the blade. It lasts all of three seconds before he's looking back up into the stands again.
"Oh, you're in trouble,” Dean chuckles.
“Focus,” Garrett grunts, the attempt so half-assed it only makes Dean laugh harder.
"No, you focus."
Garrett shakes his head, trying and failing to hide the smile tugging at the corner of his mouth as the music blasts over the speakers.
Dean exhales sharply, blowing it out slowly like he’s genuinely concerned. "You're gone, bud.”
"Shut up."
“You are."
"I'm literally standing right here," Garrett laughs, finally looking over at him.
"Mentally?" Dean asks, smacking a gloved hand on top of Garrett's helmet. "Absolutely not."
Garrett opens his mouth, fully intending to argue but nothing comes out. Dean lifts an eyebrow, waiting for an answer.
"You got nothin'."
"Fuck off,” Garrett chuckles.
The puck drops and Garrett does his best to forget about the stands. And for a little while, hockey wins.
The game settles into that familiar rhythm; slamming into the boards, skate blades carving into the ice, eyes darting between bodies for an opening.
Dean feeds him a perfect pass through the slot and he takes it—bar down, the net ripples and the horn explodes ahead, the crowd erupts into cheers as the music plays.
Garrett’s fist pumps instinctively as adrenaline courses through him, teammates crashing into him from every direction before he can even slow down.
And like a complete idiot, the first place his eyes go isn’t the scoreboard.
Dean catches it immediately, grabbing him by the back of his jersey as they head back to the bench. “Did you do it for her? I just gotta know. How are we gonna play this?”
Garrett shoves him away, but Dean hangs on, refusing to let go.
“Boys,” Dean announces dramatically. “We lost him.”
“You’re such a dick.”
“Answer the question, Graham,” Dean demands as he steps off the ice.
“What question?” Garrett asks, brushing the ice off the blade of his stick.
“The goal.”
“The goal?”
“Yes, the goal,” Dean adds, with no plans of letting it go.
“I scored because you passed me the fuckin’ puck, buddy. That’s how hockey works—”
“See? That’s not a no.”
“Mhmm,” Garrett hums, gnawing at his mouthguard to hide his smile.
A few of his teammates stream past with the puck and distract Dean for a moment, Garrett’s eyes finding their way back to you. You’re looking down at your phone, smiling at the screen, and he can’t help but wonder if his phone is buzzing in his locker right now.
Fuck, he’s in trouble.
“Malone’s after this? A few beers with the boys, G. What do you say?” Logan’s voice calls from Dean’s right, catching him completely off guard. Because what do you mean, with just the boys on a Saturday night? A home game? With you in the crowd looking like that? Fuck off.
Garrett looks to his left and Dean and Logan are both staring at him now, matching grins stretched across their faces.
Garrett narrows his eyes immediately, the pieces clicking together all at once. Those motherfuckers.
It wasn’t an invitation. It was a test.
And judging by the way Dean doubles over before he can even answer, he’d failed it spectacularly.
“No way,” Dean howls. “No fuckin’ way.”
“You’re a dick,” Garrett laughs, flicking him off with a gloved hand.
“You’re the dick, G. Fucking rude, actually. You didn’t even think about it!” Logan adds.
“Not for a second,” Dean agrees, pointing at him like he’s presenting evidence in court.
“Shut up.”
“I’m serious,” Dean laughs. “That look on your face? Incredible.”
Garrett lifts his water bottle, taking a long drink while the two of them continue losing their minds. “Hang it up, Dean.”
“Not a chance… You know my favorite part is?” Dean asks as he leans forward, resting his elbows on his breezers.
“No… No I don’t,” Garrett answers simply.
“Three years. Three fuckin’ years of listenin’ to you tell everybody how there was no way you could do both. You spent all that time acting like getting attached was gonna ruin your game.”
“It would’ve,” Garrett deadpans.
“Really?” Dean asks. “Because you got a goal, two assists, and you’ve looked up into the stands approximately forty-seven times tonight—and it’s only the first.”
Logan nods, looking up at the scoreboard and back to Garrett. “Statistically speaking, she should probably come to every game.”
“—Yeah,” Dean agrees. “For the good of the program.”
Garrett scrubs a hand across his jaw, already losing the battle not to smile. “Both of you are idiots.”
“Maybe.” Dean shrugs. “But we’re right.”
Garrett rolls his eyes, hanging his head for a moment. Eventually the conversation drifts somewhere else, both of them getting distracted by whatever’s happening on the ice. Garrett immediately takes advantage of it, searching the crowd without even thinking about it.
Back to you.
Dean catches it almost instantly. “Fuckin’ love this for you, G.”
Garrett rolls his eyes toward the ice, but the smile gives him away. “Shut up.”
The second the locker room door swings open, Garrett spots you.
One second he’s laughing at something Dean says, smiling for one reason, and the next he’s smiling for another entirely. His hand drags across his mouth like he can somehow hide it, duffel bag looped over his broad shoulder, the other shoved into his pocket as he tries and fails to look casual.
You’re leaning against the brick wall, still drowning in that royal blue jacket of his.
Your eyes lift from your phone and the second you spot him, a smile spreads across your face, and Garrett feels his own answering before he can stop it. He doesn’t even realize he’s walking faster until Dean catches up beside him.
“Oh, wow,” Dean breathes dramatically.
“Go away, dude,” Garrett mutters under his breath with a laugh.
“No, seriously. Look at you… You are clippin’.”
Dean smacks him on the ass as he blows past, earning a startled laugh from you before he jogs ahead to catch the rest of the guys.
Garrett just shakes his head, already fighting a losing battle. His hand finds your waist, pulling you closer like he’s wanted to all night.
“Good game,” you smile.
“Yeah?” His grin softens immediately as he leans in closer. “You think so?”
“Rain check on that boys’ night?” Logan yells from halfway down the hallway, his voice echoing through the tunnel just as Garrett’s lips brush yours.
“Oh?” You ask sweetly as Garrett pulls back and shoots Logan a dirty look. “You have plans?”
“Hell no,” Garrett answers immediately, his hold on you tightening slightly as he turns you just enough to block out the idiots behind him.
“Goal was for you, by the way!” Dean shouts over their laughter, and Garrett’s entire face floods red.
“Don’t listen to them,” he mutters, pulling you into a tight hug.
“I mean, the first one definitely was,” Dean continues.
“Buddy, both of ’em were,” Tucker adds as the locker room door swings shut behind him, piling on while Garrett groans.
“Don’t you have shit to do?” Garrett asks.
“You better have him home by midnight, sweetheart,” Dean adds as he pushes through the side door, pointing at the two of you like an exhausted hockey parent.
Your back presses against the wall as Garrett keeps his eyes fixed on the exit, waiting for the last one of them to leave.
The second Dean disappears through the door, Garrett exhales, silence finally settling around you, just the two of you and an empty hallway, exactly like he’d been hoping for. He turns back to you, breath catching when he finds your eyes already on him.
And before you can speak he kisses you deep, his hand gripping into the back of the letterman’s jacket to bring you closer. His other hand lifts, cradling the back of your head, smiling against your lips as he draws back just enough to whisper.
Summary: Joe tries to stay calm while watching you get interviewed by someone who is clearly flirting with you, but his jealousy shows in small ways.
Joe was trying so hard to be normal about it.
He stood just off to the side, hands deep in the pockets of his jacket, shoulders relaxed like he was just casually waiting for his girlfriend to finish up. To anyone else, he probably looked chill, supportive boyfriend mode activated. But you knew him better than that.
You caught the subtle twitch in his jaw when the interviewer laughed a little too loud at one of your answers. You noticed how his eyes narrowed just a fraction every time the guy leaned in closer. He kept shifting his weight, pretending to scan the room, but his gaze kept snapping back to you like a magnet.
The interview had been fine at first. Standard red carpet stuff, questions about the new project, funny behind-the-scenes stories, your favorite scenes. But somewhere along the way, the interviewer had ditched the professional script.
“So,” the guy said, flashing a bright, overly familiar smile, “be honest… is it distracting being that pretty on set? Like, do people actually get any work done around you?”
You let out a short, awkward laugh and glanced down at your hands. “I don’t know about that. I think everyone’s pretty focused once the cameras start rolling.”
Joe’s eyebrows lifted slightly behind the interviewer’s back. Not enough for the cameras to catch, but you saw it.
The interviewer wasn’t done. “Come on, I’m serious. You walk on set looking like that and you’re telling me no one gets distracted?”
You smiled politely, trying to steer things back. “I mean, we’re all professionals. Plus, I’ve got a great scene partner who keeps me on my toes.”
Joe scratched the side of his face, clearly trying to play it cool, but you could see the tension in his shoulders.
When the interview finally wrapped, the guy gave you one last lingering smile. “Seriously, it was great talking to you. Hope I get to do this again soon.”
Before you could even respond, Joe was suddenly right beside you, his hand gently pressing against the small of your back.
“Yeah,” he said, voice light but edged with something drier. “Really great questions, man.”
You had to bite the inside of your cheek to keep from smiling as Joe guided you away from the cameras and the crowd. The second you were out of earshot, you looked up at him.
“‘Really great questions’?” you teased.
Joe shrugged, trying to look innocent. “What? They were… thoughtful.”
You laughed. “You’re jealous.”
“I’m not jealous,” he said quickly. Too quickly.
“You’re doing the voice.”
He frowned. “What voice?”
“The one where you pretend you’re totally fine but sound like you’re one second away from short-circuiting.”
Joe gave you a look, but the corner of his mouth twitched like he was fighting a smile. “You’re imagining things.”
The two of you climbed into the waiting car. The door shut, and the noise of the event faded away, leaving just the low hum of the engine and the city lights sliding past the windows. Joe leaned back against the seat and let out a long breath, like he’d been holding it for the past twenty minutes.
His hand found your thigh almost immediately, resting there warmly, his thumb tracing slow, absent circles against the fabric of your dress.
You turned toward him. “You okay?”
“Yeah,” he said. Then, after a beat, “Mostly.”
You waited, knowing he’d keep going if you gave him space.
He stared out the window for a second before continuing. “I don’t know… he was looking at you like I wasn’t even standing there. Like I was just some random guy in the background. And I had to stand there smiling like an idiot while he basically flirted with you on camera.”
His voice wasn’t angry, just tired and a little embarrassed.
“Joe,” you said softly, reaching over to squeeze his hand.
“I know it’s dumb,” he added quickly. “You were working. You handled it perfectly. I’m not mad at you. I just… I hated it.”
You nodded. “I could tell.”
His hand tightened slightly on your thigh. “I wanted to walk over and be like, ‘Hey, hi, boyfriend right here. Thanks for the interview, see you never.’” He shook his head, laughing at himself. “But I didn’t. I just stood there doing my supportive boyfriend face while my brain was melting.”
You grinned. “You materialized next to me the second it ended like a protective Victorian ghost.”
That pulled a real laugh out of him. “I thought I was being subtle.”
“You were many things,” you said, “but subtle wasn’t one of them.”
Joe turned in his seat to face you properly, his expression softening. The teasing faded, replaced by something more honest and vulnerable. “I just hate that feeling. Watching someone else try to charm you and knowing I have to play it cool because it’s your job. You looked really beautiful tonight, by the way. Which didn’t help.”
Your cheeks warmed. “You’re being clingy, Joe Keery.”
“Extremely,” he admitted without hesitation. He leaned over and rested his head against your shoulder, nuzzling in like he needed the contact. “I’m owning it. Growth.”
You laughed quietly and slid your fingers into his hair, playing with the strands the way you knew he liked. He practically melted, letting out a small, contented sound that made your chest feel warm.
After a comfortable stretch of silence, he mumbled against your shoulder, “I didn’t like him.”
“I noticed.”
“He was too smiley.”
“You smile a lot too,” you pointed out.
“Yeah, but mine’s charming. His was… sleazy charming. There’s a difference.”
You snorted. “You’re ridiculous.”
“Maybe.” He lifted his head just enough to look at you, eyes soft. “But you’re mine. And I don’t like sharing the view.”
You leaned in and kissed his cheek, then his jaw. “I only had eyes for you the whole time. Even when I was trying to stay professional.”
Joe’s face relaxed completely, the last bit of tension slipping away. “Yeah?”
“Yeah, baby.”
He let out a breath and wrapped his arm around your shoulders, pulling you closer. “Good. Because I was losing my mind out there and trying really hard to look normal.”
“You failed,” you whispered, smiling.
“Spectacularly,” he agreed, pressing a kiss to the top of your head.
The car continued through the glowing city streets, but inside it felt quiet and safe. Just the two of you, imperfect, a little possessive, and very much in love.
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