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part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5, part 6
pairing: john logan x fem!reader (garrett's sister)
word count: 3.2k
summary: you have known john logan since you first came to briar u. he became a constant in your life, as he was a constant in your brother's life. developing a crush on him felt easy, perhaps the easiest thing that you had ever done. however john logan was two things: your brothers best friend, and plainly not interested in you. at least, you don't think he is? it's easy to pass off the flirting and lingering stares as it simply being who he was. was it though? or was there something more.
author note: i know i said this wasn't coming until later this week but then i kept thinking about the ending scene and i just... had to type it out.. but it is 11:20 pm so i definitely am not proofreading!!
the weekend goes by in a flash, and neither of you mention that first night. nor do you bring up the three words that fell from your lips in a drunken confession before sleep took you. rather, you go on as you were. stolen touches under the table and in your bedroom when no one was looking. tracing patterns on your shoulder as his arm is lazily slung over the back of the couch while everyone drinks, argues, and plays games.
even down to the night that he snuck into your room well after everyone had fallen asleep. when tuck was snoring, likely dreaming of some girl back in texas that he as babbling about earlier in the night after finding her instagram. when the cabin went completely quiet and his footsteps were hidden beneath the howling of the wind outside.
he didn't rap on your door this time, but rather slowly turned the knob before letting himself in. quietly he made his way to the bed, lowering himself down next to you and wrapping you in his arms, "what are you doing?," you asked, confusion lacing your words as you speak.
"i missed you," he whispers, a kiss falling onto your lips as he speaks.
"this is dangerous," you say then, pulling back with a concerned look on your face. his eyes meet yours for a moment, and you can't help the way that you get lost in them.
"who cares?" the two words fall between you for a moment, and you can tell that he means them. tell that the risk seems worth it to him despite the months you both spent laying low and honoring the pact you made to keep it a secret.
"i care," you say, words soft and low as you speak, "and garrett will definitely care if he finds out."
there is a beat of silence that falls between you then. the only sound in the room being a mix of the howling wind and your ragged breathes. you can feel his heart beat in his chest as it's pressed flush against your own. then a sigh falls from his lips, "just give me a few hours, please," there is a pleading in his tone that you are utterly unfamiliar with, "and then he doesn't have to know. our secret, remember?"
our secret. the mantra you have had blasting in your head over and over and over for months now.
"fine," you say with a teasing eyeroll, "but only because i am very cold in this bed." there is a laugh that escapes him, once of those perfectly melodic laughs that always seems to find it's way into your bloodstream and course through your entire body.
he pulls you closer, and you feel so at home in his arms that you wish he didn't have to leave. that the few hours would extend until forever, even if you know that it isn't possible. even if you know the way that the betrayal of it all would reverberate through out the house in the morning.
even still, you find a way to fall asleep in his arms. as if they were home enough to make you forget how the bed was lumpy and uncomfortable, feeling so unlike your own.
when you wake, for a moment there is a hope that he is there. he isn't, and you knew he wouldn't be. you don't know when he left, all you do know that the bags under his eyes seem more prominent when you spot him in the kitchen for breakfast.
✿ . ˚ . ˚ ✿.
life goes back to normal once you all make it back to briar. the boys go back to practice, and you back to filling your break with silly hobbies and binging a lot of shows. john finds his way to your dorm almost every night. once he off handedly mentioned how tucker had asked where he was going every day, and he had lied and said he picked up some extra handyman gigs that left him more busy than usual.
you try not to think into it too much. if only for the fact that you know he could have told a half truth. could have said he might have a new girlfriend that he wasn't ready to introduce. except, there is that word again: girlfriend. the thing he hasn't called you, the word you are too scared to bring up. perhaps his lie was better, it came with less expectations.
you were busy working on a crocheting project (a new hobby of yours, you can't decide if you hate it or not) one saturday afternoon when your phone aggressively begins to buzz next to you. you set down the yarn and hook, and pick it up to find that john had texted you.
john: you coming to the party after the game tonight? or are you going to be too busy with your old lady crafts?
you: can you shut up?
john: you didn't answer my question.
you: i'm only going if you win
john: great, cyat
you: ... do you mean, see you then?
they won the game, but that doesn't shock you. the team they were going against wasn't really all that good. if they had lost, you genuinely would have been shocked. even still, you find yourself on the edge of your seat for the entire game. cheering for every goal, and winking at john each time that he notices you in the stands.
you are so caught up in the joy of the game that you nearly miss the look that logan gives your father when he spots him in the parking lot. a look that is so recognizable that it nearly gives you chills. he looks as if he wants to kill, and you figure he might if given the chance.
the only thing that distracts him is when he spots you, immediately beelining his way over to you. "did you not drive?" he asks as he meets up with you, hand lingering on your arm for a moment before you turn and start walking towards his truck.
"no," you say with a soft shake of your head, "i didn't want to have to drive back to my dorm and then call a cab to the house. i figured i'd just ask you for a ride." you look up at him then with a smile on your face, knowing that the likelihood of him saying no was very low.
there is a laugh that escapes him as the both of you finally approach his truck towards the end of your words. there is a pause in movements as he looks at you, and the look in his eyes lets know that you already won. and if his eyes didn't give it away, then him opening the passenger door for you definitely did.
you hop into the passenger seat and watch as he slides his hockey bag down by your feet. normally, it would go in the back but it had been snowing and the bed of the truck was wet. you didn't mind it, really, because at least it meant you were in his truck.
he closes the door then and moves around the truck to the driver side. the moment that he slides into the truck, you turn to beam a bright, toothy smile at him, "i'm picking the music," you announce with ease.
his head snaps to you and there is a look of mild annoyance on his face as he states, "no, you're not. my truck, my playlist," he establishes rather quickly before sticking the key in the engine and turning it on.
"please?," you ask, a slight pout in your lip as you look at him with big doe eyes. he doesn't look at you immediately, probably because he knows that he will cave once he does. it's a look that you have given him a few times now, and he tends to always give in the moment that he sees it.
finally, his eyes shift towards you and he lets out a sigh before handing the aux cord to you in a silent agreement. you accept it and eagerly plug it in before putting on one of your favorite playlists.
the music pushes out of the speaker, and he sighs again before putting the truck in drive and pulling out of the parking lot. as soon as he is comfortably on the road then, his hand reaches out and settles onto your thigh. your eyes shift down to his hand, the warmth of his touch seeping through your jeans and into your skin. there is a moment of pause before you reach out your own hand and lace your fingers through his, happy to hold it for the few short moments that you are able before you are both forced back into a crowded room with prying eyes.
✿ . ˚ . ˚ ✿.
the party goes into full swing rather quickly. people filtering in quickly, all still riding off the high of the game. you stick by logan at first, talking with him and some of the other guys on the team. they all seem to be chattering about their favorite moments, and you make sure to chime in about the way it looked from the audience's perspectives.
it's only been about an hour before logan is dragged away to do the traditional hockey shot that they always do after a winning game. you watch from the side, a smile on your face as you watch them all do it together and cheer in some typical way. he is about to make his way back over to you when one of your friends comes and grabs onto your arm dragging you to the other side of the house in a hurry.
you didn't want to be separated from him, but how did you explain that to everyone? how did you make it make sense without telling on yourself?
so, you follow her over and find yourself trapped into helping them settle some weird moral debate that you did not care about. the conversation drags on for longer than you want given that the two won't stop arguing back and forth, and you have to keep interjecting to ask for clarifications so that you can give a final verdict.
you're not sure how long it had been, but eventually you find a perfect place to excuse yourself and start making your way through the room again.
you look for john, but when you find he seems caught up in a conversation with some of the hockey guys and a few pretty fake blondes. joining them feels like torture, so you find your way to the kitchen to get another drink instead.
you had grabbed a can of beer from the fridge, and had just cracked it open with a boy from the football team stumbles into you, "oh my god," you let out as you fumble back then. he turns around immediately and begins to flood you with a million apologies.
then, when you think he will walk away, he doesn't. rather he follows you to clear corner in the kitchen and you talk. he says something funny, and you find yourself laughing so loudly at it that the sound fills the room.
john's head snaps immediately when he hears it, searching the room for you. there was a smile on his face that fades when he realizes who you are talking to. when he realizes that it was this man who made you laugh.
you are so caught up in the conversation that you don't notice his eyes on you. you don't see the crease in his eyebrow as he watches the two of you talk. watches as you laugh and smile, and the football player seems to accidentally put his hand on your arm when he laughs in return.
you don't notice john, but allie does.
"you're staring," she tells him as she leans her body against the wall, head tilting as she looks at him.
"what?," john asks, but he doesn't turn to face her. rather, his eyes keep burning holes in the back of the football players shirt.
"i said that you're staring," she states, her words a bit more pointed then, "granted, you're always staring at her." it is then when john looks at her, and his eyebrows knit together, "do you really think no one notices? maybe the boys don't, but i do."
"it's not--" he starts, but she immediately cuts him off.
"it is," she states with a cocked eyebrow, "i saw you sneaking out of her room at the cabin. i was in the kitchen getting water, and there you were." a hand scrubs over his face then, a look of a man who had definitely been caught. a laugh escapes allie's lips, "i'm not going to tell anyone, logan. i care too much about her to ruin your secret."
relief washes over his face then, and the reminder of that guy talking to you seemed to come rushing back when he hears you laugh again. his head snaps back up to stare at the two of you, eliciting a heavy sigh from allie, "just go over there, idiot, before everyone in this room begins to smell your jealousy."
✿ . ˚ . ˚ ✿.
it takes him 15 minutes of seething before john decides that he can't take it anymore. the cup in his hand is beginning to falter under his white knuckled grip, and he has to actually stop himself from crumpling it completely in his grasp. before he stalks over to you and that football player, he takes it upon himself to finish the rest of his beer in one go. at least this way it will look like he had an excuse.
not that he thinks he needs one, given that his girl was sitting there laughing with some other stupid, fucking guy.
he drops the cup in the trash, it was far beyond the point of being used again, and finds his way over where the two of you stood in the corner. there is a smile on your face when you notice him, head tilting to look at him and a laugh still dancing on your lips when you say, "logan!"
you hadn't called him logan in months, it drives him insane that you do.
"have you met terrance?," you ask, head turning them to look at the other boy. terrance sticks his hand out then, but john doesn't take it. rather he just looks him up and down in a way that makes terrance visible uncomfortable, and you immediately feel the need to fill the awkward silence that grows between them, "he was just telling me that we are in the same chem class? and we were talking about how much of a horror show it was."
john's eyes shift from terrance to you, and his face is flat and emotionless as he states, "can i talk to you?"
your eyebrows crease for a moment, and there is an awkward laugh that escapes you as you say, "okay?" your head then turns to terrance and you offer him a sympathetic smile as you say, "i will talk to you later," and your hand falls onto his arm, "if not here then we can get coffee sometime? prepare for the next chem class?"
out of the corner of your eye you can see john's jaw tense, a muscle flexing in it that you had only ever seen happen when he was angry. terrance, thankfully, doesn't seem to notice and says something about texting him before walking back into the party and finding someone else to mingle with.
your attention turns back to john, "you wanted to talk?," you ask with confusion lacing your tone. you lift the beer can to your lips, taking a drink from it in hopes of it doing something to cut the awkward, unsettled feeling that was weighing on your chest.
"not here," he responds, his voice sounds more like a growl than anything else. his hand wraps around yours as begins to pull you away from the crowded kitchen and out to the front yard which was empty due to the cold, winter air.
you realize immediately that you don't have your coat on when the air bites at your skin. however, you don't get long to think about it before you are face to face with john and he demands, "you were flirting with him."
confusion clouds your face then as your eyebrows knit together, "no, i wasn't?" the words come out more like a question, which seems to make that muscle in his jaw tense even more.
the wind blows then, cold and uncomfortable as it bites at the exposed skin of your arms. your hands lift up instinctively to rub against the skin in hopes of bringing some heat into them.
"yes, you were," he states then, eyes flicking down to your arms as you rub at them. there is a sigh that escapes him as he starts to take off his own jack, but that doesn't stop him from continuing to speak, "you were touching him, smiling, and laughing," he goes on to explain, the coat now off of his body, "so what do you call that?"
you almost miss the question, distracted by how he reaches up to wrap the coat around your shoulders. however, there is an intensity in his eyes that brings you back to the conversation, "i call it talking, john." the words are harsh as they leave your mouth.
"okay, so what do you call asking him out for coffee?," there is an anger in his tone that is hard to miss.
"i call it being friendly."
"really? because to me it seemed a lot like my girlfriend asking some stupid fucking footballer out on a date."
you pause then, and your eyes go wide as he says it. that word. that one that you had thought was forbidden had just left his mouth, and you don't know what to do with that. "what?" the word stumbles out of your mouth without much thought of all.
"i don't understand how that wasn't clear?"
"no, i get what you're saying," you rush to say, eyebrows knitting together for a moment. "but you never said i was your girlfriend before. we never even talked about being exclusive, john." the defense feels pathetic as it falls from your lips. "not that i was asking him out, because i wasn't, but i..."
he takes a step closer to you then, closing the gap that was between you. standing so close that you can see the breathe that leaves his lips. his head is tilted down as he looks at you, a cloud of emotion hiding just behind his eyes, "you told me you loved me."
oh, that.
"you didn't say it back," you counter, your eyes wide as you look up at his.
there is a moment then when his hand flexes by his side, as if it craves to reach up and rest upon your cheek. a craving that he uses every muscle in his arm to fight against.
"of course i love you," he says then the words coming out as soft as a whisper, "i'm not a fucking idiot."
you have given me the most insane john logan obsession. HES SMTH SERIOUUUSSS BRO 😩😩😩
i made a cute little list of things that are so attractive abt him:
- the whole “closed cans are safer” thing
- “where’s the bentley”, “good for you”, “i’m proud of you”
this sounds so delusional again, but you know how he has to work for everything in life, he’s a handyman low-key. he fixes people’s shit. ugh imagine him with like a spoiled gf or something, and calls you like sarcastic little nicknames, like “pretty princess” or whatever when you act a little bratty. omg i might indulge in this
- him going to malone’s in that mechanics outfit. he looks fuckimg edible with the chain peeking out. wtf imagine it dangling in your face i’m so insaneeee about him
- just him in that carhartt jacket with the chain around his neck
- him in that fucking workout scene with the bandana, and his arms are like coated in sweattttttttt bro
- deadass his voice. he sounds playful, yet serious, it’s a little deep, it’s perfect
- carrying hannah’s bike WITH EASE
- THE ARROW CELLY
- literally when his hair is all messy in the dressing room and his jaw is all tight and shit as he argues w garrett
- the fucking finger twirl
- he looks like he’s so warm. like good hugs, soft kisses, omg imagine the slight scratch of his facial hair as he nuzzles into your neck when he feels extra clingy
- in episode 3 (ig?) when garrett’s trying to study in the living room, and he walks in with those liquid iv boxes and like leans on the sofa?? omg.
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
✓ Live Streaming✓ Interactive Chat✓ Private Shows✓ HD Quality✓ Free Actions
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
✓ Live Streaming✓ Interactive Chat✓ Private Shows✓ HD Quality✓ Free Actions
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
✓ Live Streaming✓ Interactive Chat✓ Private Shows✓ HD Quality✓ Free Actions
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
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