Something Different? | Part 1
pairing: Allie Hayes x Found Family X Logan Fem!Reader
summary: after escaping an emotionally abusive relationship, you unexpectedly fall for Allie Hayes, forcing you to confront your sexuality and risk everything.
warnings: angst, hurt/comfort, found family, emotional healing, self-discovery, sexuality discovery, coming out, slow burn, friends to lovers, mutual pining, oblivious idiots, college romance, comfort, emotional confession, first queer crush, fluff, light humor, protective friends, happy ending (implied)
a/n: i am a true believer in bisexual allie hayes. and,please if you want any sort one fic or story my requests are open!
The hockey house smells like stale beer and boy, which is pretty much its default state. You're curled into the corner of the worn leather couch, Hannah on one side, Allie on the other. The guys are scattered around—Logan and Garrett arguing about some play from last night's game, Tucker on his phone, Dean attempting to juggle empty beer cans.
It's supposed to be a normal Friday night. It was a normal Friday night, until Hannah asked how you were doing. Really doing.
Not cute crying either. The ugly kind, where your face gets blotchy and your nose runs and you can't catch your breath between sobs.
"He was just—" You hiccup, wiping at your face with your sleeve.
"God, I'm sorry. I'm fine. I'm fine."
"You're clearly not fine," Hannah says gently, rubbing circles on your back.
Logan's gone rigid across the room. Your brother knows something's wrong—you've been telling him you're okay for months now, and he's been choosing to believe you because it's easier than confronting whatever truth you've been hiding.
"What did he do?" Logan's voice is tight, controlled. Dangerous.
You shake your head. Where do you even start? How do you explain that your ex didn't hit you, didn't cheat on you, but somehow made you feel smaller and smaller until you weren't sure you existed at all?
"It sounds so stupid but he was just mean," you finally whisper. "All the time. About everything. The way I dressed, the way I laughed, my friends, my major—nothing was ever good enough. And when I tried to talk to him about it, he'd twist it around until I was apologizing to him.”
The words start coming faster now, like a dam breaking.
"He'd ignore me for days if I did something he didn't like. He told me I was too sensitive, too needy, too much. He'd make plans and cancel last minute, but if I made plans without him, I was being selfish. He went through my phone. He made me feel crazy for being upset about any of it."
You're shaking now. Hannah pulls you closer.
"And the worst part is I let him. For almost a year, I just... took it. Because he'd be sweet sometimes, and I thought that meant he loved me. I thought I could fix it. Fix us. Fix me."
"Jesus Christ," Dean mutters.
Logan looks like he wants to put his fist through a wall. "Why didn't you tell me?"
"Because you would've done something stupid and gotten kicked off the team," you say, managing a watery laugh. "And because I was embarrassed. I'm supposed to be smart, you know? But I was so fucking stupid—"
The word comes from Allie, sharp and firm. You turn to look at her, and there's something fierce in her expression that makes your breath catch.
"You weren't stupid," Allie says. "He was a manipulative asshole. That's what manipulative people do. They make you doubt yourself until you can't trust your own reality. None of that was your fault."
She shifts closer, and suddenly you're very aware of how near she is. Close enough that you can smell her perfume—something warm and vanilla.
"But you're done with him now," Allie continues. "And I'm not going to let you waste another second of your life thinking about that asshole."
There's a determination in her voice that makes something flutter in your chest. You nod, not trusting yourself to speak.
"We're going to help you move on," Allie declares, looking around at the group. "Right?"
A chorus of agreement rises from the guys. Hannah squeezes your shoulder. Logan still looks murderous, but he nods too.
"Starting tonight," Allie says. "No more crying over him. He doesn't deserve your tears."
You want to argue that it's not that simple, that you can't just flip a switch and be okay. But the way Allie's looking at you, like she genuinely believes you can do this, like she sees something in you that you've forgotten was there, makes you want to try.
Allie grins, and it's like the sun coming out.
Over the next two months, Allie makes good on her promise.
She shows up at your dorm with coffee and breakfast sandwiches before your 9 AM class. She studies with you in the library, her knee pressed against yours under the table. She drags you to parties and makes sure you're laughing, dancing, living.
She texts you memes at 2 AM. She remembers that you like your coffee with oat milk and too much sugar. She learns your schedule and just... appears, like she's been waiting for you.
And somewhere along the way, something shifts.
You start noticing things. The way Allie throws her head back when she laughs, exposing the long line of her throat. The way her voice gets softer when she's talking just to you. The way her hand lingers on your arm, your shoulder, the small of your back.
The way your heart speeds up when you see her name on your phone screen.
It's confusing. You've never felt this way about a girl before. You've never felt this way about anyone before, actually, not even your ex, and you dated him for almost a year.
This is different. This is butterflies and electricity and wanting to be near someone just to be near them. This is noticing the gold flecks in Allie's eyes and the way she bites her lip when she's concentrating and how her whole face softens when she looks at you.
The realization hits you one afternoon in the campus coffee shop. Allie's telling you some story about Dean being an idiot, gesturing wildly with her hands, and you're not really listening because you're too busy thinking about how pretty she is. How much you like the sound of her voice. How you want to reach across the table and touch her.
How you want to kiss her.
You're attracted to Allie.
You're attracted to a girl.
The thought should probably freak you out more than it does. But mostly you just feel... relieved. Like something that's been out of focus has suddenly sharpened into clarity.
"You okay?" Allie asks, and you realize you've been staring.
"Yeah," you say quickly. "Sorry. Spaced out."
Allie smiles, and your stomach does a flip.
"They're idiots," Hannah announces.
You're at the hockey house again, this time for a movie night. You and Allie are sharing a blanket on the couch, and you're hyperaware of every point where your bodies touch. Her thigh against yours. Her shoulder pressed to your shoulder. Her hand resting on the cushion between you, so close you could just reach over and—
"Complete idiots," Garrett agrees.
You tune back into the conversation, confused. "Who?"
"No one," Hannah says quickly, but she's smirking.
Dean snorts. "Real subtle, Wellsy."
"Shut up," Hannah throws a piece of popcorn at him.
Logan's watching you with an odd expression, something between amusement and concern. You raise your eyebrows at him in question, but he just shakes his head.
"What are we watching?" Allie asks, oblivious to whatever weird energy just passed through the room.
"Horror," Tucker says. "The new one with the haunted house."
You groan. You hate horror movies. Allie knows this—you told her after she suggested watching one last week—and she immediately shifts closer.
"I'll protect you," she says, grinning.
Your face heats. "My hero." You joke.
The movie starts, and you try to focus on the screen. You really do. But Allie's so close, and she smells so good, and when a jump scare makes you flinch, she wraps an arm around your shoulders and pulls you against her side.
"It's okay," she murmurs. "It's not real."
You're very aware that everyone's watching you. Dean's got this knowing smirk. Hannah's practically vibrating with glee. Even Tucker looks amused.
Only Allie seems unaware, her attention back on the movie, her arm still around you.
You let yourself relax into her, just a little. Let yourself have this, even if it doesn't mean what you want it to mean.
Even if she doesn't feel the same way.
The following Friday, Hannah drags you and Allie to watch the boys play hockey.
"Come on," she'd insisted when you tried to beg off. "You haven't been to a game in weeks. Logan's been asking about you."
So now you're in the stands, sandwiched between Hannah and Allie, watching your brother and his teammates warm up on the ice.
"God, I love watching Garrett play," Hannah sighs dreamily.
"You love watching Garrett do anything," you tease.
"True." Hannah grins, then nudges you. "What about you, Y/N? Enjoying the view?"
You're about to answer when Allie leans forward, her hand coming to rest on your knee as she points at the ice. "There's Logan."
Your brain short-circuits at the casual touch. "I—yeah. I know my brother."
Allie laughs, and the sound does something to your insides. She's wearing a Briar hockey jersey—one of the boys must have given it to her—and her hair is down in loose waves. She looks so fucking good it's unfair.
"You okay?" Allie asks, noticing you staring.
Hannah's watching you with barely concealed amusement. "You sure? You look a little flushed."
"It's an ice rink, babe."
The game starts, saving you from having to respond. You try to focus on the action, on Logan skating across the ice, but you keep getting distracted by Allie. By the way she cheers when Logan scores. By how she jumps to her feet, grabbing your arm in excitement.
"Did you see that?" Allie's eyes are bright. "Your brother's incredible!"
"Yeah," you manage. "He's pretty good."
"Pretty good? That was amazing!" Allie's still holding your arm, and you're very aware of her fingers on your skin.
From your other side, Hannah makes a noise that sounds suspiciously like a laugh.
During the first intermission, Dean and Tucker climb up to your section, both grinning.
"Ladies," Dean says. "Enjoying the game?"
"It's great," Allie says. "You guys are on fire."
"Yeah we are, but Logan’s showing off," Tucker says, then looks directly at you. "Wonder why."
You frown. "What's that supposed to mean?"
"Nothing." But Tucker's smirking. "Just nice to see Y/N at a game again. Been a while."
"I've been busy," you say defensively.
"Busy hanging out with Allie," Dean adds, his grin widening. "We've noticed."
Allie rolls her eyes. "We study together. It's not a big deal."
"Right. Studying." Dean exchanges a look with Tucker that you don't understand. "That's definitely what you're doing."
"What else would we be doing?" you ask.
Hannah chokes on her drink. Dean and Tucker both start laughing.
"What?" Allie looks between them, confused. "What's funny?"
"Nothing," Dean says, still grinning. "You two are just... really good friends."
"We are," you say, not understanding why that's amusing.
"The best," Tucker agrees, but he's definitely laughing at some joke you're not in on.
The second period starts, and the boys head back down to their seats. You catch Hannah texting furiously, and when you glance over her shoulder, you see she's in a group chat labeled "The Bet."
Hannah jumps, nearly dropping her phone. "Nothing! No bet. Just... coordinating rides home."
"In a chat called 'The Bet'?"
Before you can press further, Allie gasps, grabbing your hand. "Oh my god, did you see that hit? Is he okay?"
Your brother's fine—he's already back on his feet, skating hard—but you can't focus on that because Allie's holding your hand. Her fingers are laced through yours, and she doesn't seem to realize she's doing it.
"He's fine," you say, your voice coming out weird.
"Thank god." Allie squeezes your hand, then seems to realize what she's doing. She lets go quickly, her cheeks flushing. "Sorry. I got worried."
"It's okay," you say, even though your hand feels cold now.
Hannah's watching you both with this expression—fond and exasperated and knowing. "You two are ridiculous," she mutters.
"What?" you and Allie say in unison.
"Nothing." Hannah shakes her head. "Absolutely nothing."
The game ends with Briar winning 4-2. Logan had two goals and an assist, and you're proud of him even if you spent half the game distracted by Allie.
You all head down to wait for the boys outside the locker room. When they emerge, sweaty and triumphant, Logan immediately pulls you into a hug.
"Glad you came," he says.
"You were great," you tell him.
"Thanks." He pulls back, then looks between you and Allie. "You two have fun?"
"Yeah," Allie says. "It was a great game."
Logan's mouth twitches. "I bet it was."
There's that weird tone again, like everyone's in on something you're not.
"What is with everyone tonight?" you ask.
"What do you mean?" Logan asks innocently.
"Everyone keeps making weird comments and laughing at nothing."
"Maybe you're just paranoid," Dean suggests, slinging an arm around your shoulders. "Or maybe you're missing something obvious."
Dean looks at Allie, then back at you. "I'm sure you'll figure it out eventually."
Garrett appears, immediately going to Hannah and kissing her. "Ready to go?"
"Yeah." Hannah looks at you and Allie. "You two need a ride?"
"I drove," Allie says. "I can take Y/N back."
"I'm sure you can," Tucker says under his breath.
"What was that?" Allie asks.
"Nothing!" Tucker grins. "Have fun, you two."
The drive back to campus is quiet. Allie's focused on the road, and you're trying to figure out what the hell everyone was going on about tonight.
"That was weird, right?" you finally say. "Everyone was acting strange."
"A little," Allie agrees. "But you know how they are. Always messing around."
Allie pulls up outside your dorm. "Same time tomorrow for studying?"
You get out of the car, then lean back in through the window. "Thanks for the ride."
"Anytime." Allie smiles, and it makes your stomach flip. "See you tomorrow, Y/N."
You watch her drive away, that smile still on your face.
You're in Allie's dorm room, supposedly studying for your psychology midterm. But you've been on the same page of your textbook for twenty minutes, too distracted by Allie lying on her stomach on the bed, chin propped on her hands, reading.
She's wearing an oversized Briar sweatshirt and leggings, her hair piled on top of her head in a messy bun. She's not wearing makeup. She looks soft and comfortable and so beautiful it makes your chest ache.
"I can feel you staring," Allie says without looking up.
"Sorry." You force your eyes back to your textbook.
"What's going on with you lately?" Allie rolls onto her side, facing you. "You've been weird."
Your heart starts pounding. "Weird how?"
"I don't know. Distant. Like you're in your head about something." She pauses. "Is it your ex? Because if he's been contacting you—"
"No," you say quickly. "It's not him. I haven't thought about him in weeks, actually."
It's true. Your ex feels like a lifetime ago, like something that happened to a different person.
You should lie. You should make something up. You should definitely not be looking at Allie's mouth right now, wondering what it would feel like against yours.
"It's nothing," you say, but your voice comes out rough.
Allie sits up, concerned now. She moves to sit next to you on the floor, close enough that you can feel the warmth of her. "Hey. Talk to me. What's wrong?"
"Nothing's wrong. Everything's just... different."
You can't do this. You can't tell her. But she's looking at you with those eyes, and she's so close, and you're so tired of pretending.
"I just—" You stop. Start again. "You've been really good to me. These past few weeks. You've helped me so much, and I—"
"Of course," Allie says softly. "You're important to me."
The words make your heart stutter. "You're important to me too. Really important. Maybe too important."
Allie's brow furrows. "What does that mean?"
You're leaning closer without meaning to. Or maybe you do mean to. Maybe you've been meaning to for weeks now.
Allie's breath catches. She's not pulling away. If anything, she's leaning in too, her eyes dropping to your mouth.
The air between you feels electric, charged with possibility. Your hand comes up to cup her cheek, and she leans into the touch, her eyes fluttering closed.
You're going to kiss her. You're going to kiss Allie Hayes, and maybe she'll kiss you back, and maybe—
"Allie, I need to borrow your—oh shit."
Hannah stands in the doorway, eyes wide. You and Allie spring apart like you've been burned.
"Sorry!" Hannah squeaks. "I didn't—I'll just—sorry!"
She backs out and closes the door.
The moment's broken. Shattered. You can't breathe.
"I should go," you say, already scrambling to your feet.
"Wait—" Allie starts, but you're already grabbing your bag.
"I have to—I forgot I have a thing. I'll text you."
You practically run out of the room.
You make it back to your dorm before the panic really sets in.
What were you thinking? You almost kissed her. You almost kissed your brother's friend, your best friend's best friend, someone who was just trying to help you get over your ex.
She probably doesn't even like girls. She was probably just being nice, and you misread everything, and now you've made it weird.
You're pacing your tiny dorm room, your thoughts spiraling. You can't avoid her forever. You share a friend group. You'll have to see her, and it'll be awkward, and everyone will know something happened, and—
Your hands are shaking. You should wait. You should calm down first. You should think about what you're going to say.
She picks up on the first ring. "Hey."
"I'm sorry," you blurt out. "I'm so sorry. I shouldn't have—I didn't mean to make things weird. I just—"
"You didn't make things weird," Allie says. "Or, I mean, maybe you did, but I did too. I wanted—" She stops. "What were you going to say? Before Hannah interrupted?"
Your heart is pounding so hard you think it might break through your ribs. This is it. You can lie, or you can tell the truth.
You're so tired of lying.
"I was going to kiss you," you whisper.
Silence on the other end. You close your eyes, waiting for the rejection.
"Why?" Allie finally asks, and her voice is strange. Careful.
"Because I—" The words stick in your throat. "Because I've been thinking about it for weeks. Because you make me feel things I've never felt before. Because when I'm with you, I feel like myself again. Like the version of me that existed before him."
You're crying now, the words tumbling out in a rush.
"And I know this is crazy because I've never—I've never felt this way about a girl before. I didn't even know I could feel this way about a girl. But then there was you, and suddenly everything made sense. And I'm terrified because what if you don't feel the same way? What if I'm ruining everything? But I can't keep pretending I don't feel this way. I can't."
You're breathing hard, your whole body shaking. You've just come out. You've just confessed feelings you barely understand yourself.
"I'm sorry," you say again. "I'm sorry. I just—I needed you to know."
There's a long pause. Then:
"I'm coming over," Allie says.
