hello! <3 this blog started as a side blog used mostly to reblog and give some proper appreciation to my favourite fanfic writers, but now i’m posting my own works! you can check out my masterlist here and my ao3 here!
new fic/request coming tomorrow! i swear i tried locking in and writing it today but this one is taking me a bit of extra time fact checking and looking things up for context and i don't wanna rush into finishing it. see you tomorrow <3
Hii! First of all, I hope you’re having a great day <3
I wanted to request an Off Campus fic with Logan! I was thinking about an angst/hurt/fluff trope where Y/N and Logan get into an argument that eventually leads to them not talking for days — mostly because of their stubbornness and pride. After days of both of them secretly suffering (and with some pushing from their friends), one of them finally reaches out and they end up talking everything through and making up.
You can take the story in any direction you want, but I’d love a lot of emotional tension and comforting at the end.
Thank you for taking the time to read this, and happy writing! ✨🫶🏻
thank you so much for your request! <3 you can read it here!
summary: you and logan avoid each other after a fight, dean and allie come to the rescue. fluff, requested!
Looking back now, neither of you seem to remember what it was that started this whole mess. All you know is that bad days happen for everyone, each their own private reasons. Sometimes it’s classes, sometimes it’s hockey, sometimes it’s family, and because life happens that way, most times it’s all at once.
On the rare, yet present occasion of those days colliding for both you and Logan, it’s hard to navigate the weird feelings that come to surface without hurting the other in the process.
Because you’re both the type to bottle their feelings until something cracks it open, it only takes a little, stupid disagreement for it to pop like a champagne bottle, all sudden and carelessly — you say something you didn’t want to, he says something harsh in return, you act mean out of spite, an ugly back and forth that ends with him giving you a silent treatment that you refuse to take, walking out the door.
And because you’re both stubborn, it’s been like that for two days now.
Logan throws the puck into the acrylic panel once again, dropping the stick on the ice in frustration.
“You’re playing like shit.” Dean says from the bench, so casually.
Logan stares at him, eyebrows raised, “Thanks, man. You’re being really helpful.”
“You don’t need my help,” he says, “You need to fix whatever the fuck happened between you and your girl.”
Logan throws another puck, missing it again, “What are you talking about?”
“I’m talking about you acting all broody and annoyed for the past two days.”
“I’m not acting like that.”
“Of course you are,” Dean says like it’s obvious, and Logan rolls his eyes, “You’re acting annoyed now!”
“Because you are annoying me!” Logan walks out the ice, throwing himself on the bench next to Dean.
Dean Di Laurentis has more substance than his blonde hair and blue eyes combo allows the general public to see, Logan knows that. Still, somehow it always comes as a surprise when he is the one to notice something’s wrong with his friends and call it out, usually in the likes of a private, wise pep talk. This time is no different.
“Come on, man. Tell me what’s wrong?” Dean taps Logan’s shoulder, “Daddy Dean is here to help.”
“First of all, never call yourself that again,” Logan says, and Dean only shrugs, “I don’t know, dude. We just— Blew things out of proportion, you know? I don’t even know how to apologize.”
“But you want to?”
“Yes! Yeah, of course. We haven’t talked in three fucking days, man.” Logan says, hands running over his face in frustration, “I miss her so much it’s making me insane.”
“Bad at hockey too.” Dean adds, “If you miss her, then go talk to her.”
Logan shakes his head, “It’s not that simple.”
“Yes, it fucking is. Logan, stop with the martyr complex. Go find her, yeah?” He says, standing up from the bench. “I’ll see you back at the house later, and you better have a big smile on that pretty face.”
Dean walks out, leaving Logan and his pout staring down at the ice, wondering how he is supposed to make up to you.
—
You hold one of Allie’s bed cushions against your chest as you avoid her gaze.
“I’m just saying,” she goes on with her speech, which now sounds more and more like a sermon instead of her usual words of encouragement, “I think you should talk to him.”
You sit up, wide eyes staring at her, “You think I’m in the wrong?”
The mere thought of not having Allie on your side of any situation shakes you to your core. If there’s one thing Allie Hayes will always be is a girl’s girl sort of friend — she has, and will again, advocate for your rights and feelings. A good friend, Allie is.
Good enough to give you a good wake up call.
“No,” she moves to the bed, sitting next to where you lay and fingers running through your hair, “But I don’t think he’s wrong either, babe. You said you were having a bad day?”
You nod weakly, “Yeah.”
“Did he know that?” Your face turns into a grimace, lips twisting. Allie knows what that means, “See! You didn’t get to talk.”
“We talked,” you say, voice small, “Just didn’t last much without me acting stupid.”
“Well, there you have it.” She says, moving her hands in that expressive way she does, “Work things out, babe. You’re miserable.”
Your mouth falls open, “I am not!” You are, but Allie shouldn’t be able to see through you so easily. Then again, it’s Allie.
“You went through my entire sad Hot Cheetos stash in four hours last night,” she says, “You’re awful. Get it together.”
“Fine.” You say, huffing. Allie stares at you from the end of the bed, “What, now?”
“Yes, right fucking now!” She yanks the cushion out of your arms, threatening to throw it on you as you scramble to get out of her room, “Move!”
You practically run out of Allie's room, heading out of your shared building to walk over to Logan’s place.
Before you can reach the door, you see a familiar figure standing outside, pacing side to side.
“Hey,” you call for his attention.
Logan’s eyes immediately follow your voice, staring at you like you’re an oasis, and he’s been in the desert for a while now.
“Hey. I, uh, just wanted to– You know…”
“Do I?” You answer, a teasing grin in your lips. He looks pretty with that crease between his eyebrows, and you missed him.
“Talk to you, I mean.” Logan says, “If you want to. You were heading out?”
You nod, “To yours, actually.”
He raises his eyebrows, “Oh, yeah?”
“Don’t flatter yourself.” You joke, then shake your head, “No, sorry. I mean it, I was really walking to yours. I wanted to talk.”
Logan straightens his posture, boyish look suddenly gone, face turning apologetic, “Honey, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have been so rude.”
“No, oh my god, Logan– I’m sorry. I wasn’t thinking about what I said, I was just–” You cut him off, taking a deep breath, “I was so upset that day. I shouldn’t have taken it out on you.”
“Me neither.” Logan says, “And the whole silence thing was just really fucked up. I’m sorry.”
You nod, “Look,” you say, “Can we just– I don’t know, I’m not saying to forget it, but—” Your face twists, a sting behind your eyes, “I really missed you, Logan. I can’t have another two days of not talking to you.”
His face splits into a coy smile, “You missed me?”
You roll your eyes, but a grin appears on your lips, “Of course I have.” You say, stepping a little closer to whisper, “Missed you so much.”
Logan drops his eyes to your lips, moving slowly as to allow you to back up if you want to. Your hands move to his face, pulling him closer. He presses a kiss to your cheek, then another on the corner of your mouth, then another, and another, lips murmuring between every kiss,
“I missed you too, honey.” You place your arms around his neck, pulling him for a hug. His arms curve around you, his face hiding over your shoulder. “Can we never do that again?”
“What, fight?” you giggle, “That’s a bit unrealistic.”
“Avoid each other,” he clarifies through a chuckle, “Can we please always look for each other after we fight?”
“I was on my way to you.” You say, pressing a kiss on the side of his face, then in a softer voice, “And you came here looking for me.”
“Of course I did.” He doesn’t move from your arms, nuzzling against your neck instead, whispering close to your ear, “Always will too.”
You keep your hold onto him, a satisfied thrumming on your chest in knowing that Logan will find his way back to you, always.
notes: thank you for reading! requests are open! likes/reblogs/thoughts are appreciated! <3
five times logan almost said i love you (and the one time he finally did)
loving touching squeezing
too pretty to keep secret
as long as you want
good luck charm ♡p.2
the love advice
choosing you
break point
find you
bloom
♡rough me up
♡seven steps, one word
♡logan making you squirt for the first time
All credits and support to original authors: @folkloure @boyfiefleur @bitchinbarzal @rosiewrites28 @andy-15-07 @rinvvii @yvaineseleneposts @puckingcuckbunny @fezrus @ririsaltar @messylxve
summary: logan feels very on edge after the st. anthony’s game, you help him calm down. hurt/comfort, short fic, requested!
Something’s off about the way the Hawks are playing tonight, and even you can see it — the way Garrett struggles getting rid of the puck, refusing to pass it over to Logan despite his and Coach Jensen’s shouts. You try not to say anything to Jules, who’s already doing a pretty descriptive, crass rendition of the events happening on ice.
Then Birdie gets slammed, and you can’t help but think they’re fucked.
You only know for sure that they are fucked when you get a text from Logan during intermission.
logan: garrett is pissing me off rn
Logan never texts you during game intermissions. It’s a basic, personal rule he carries during games: once he steps into the ice, nothing’s distracting him. He knows just how much is at risk, and how harder he has to work to make himself noticed in a team formed by really fucking great players, some who definitely draw more attention than him. In almost a literal sense, he can’t afford to get distracted.
If he’s texting you right now, he can’t be in a good mood.
you: everything okay?
logan: no
logan: not at all
you: want me to come find you?
It takes him a moment to answer, which makes you think he’s considering it, and that makes it even worse for you to wonder, him being in such a wrecked state that he almost says yes.
logan: sorry
logan: i really can’t
logan: see you after the game?
you: yeah
you: love you
logan: love you too
You sink back into your seat, a weak smile on your lips when Jules starts shaking you by the shoulders in hopes of cheering you up, “It can’t get worse, right?”
By the end of the game, all hell seems to break loose. After Garrett had to be pulled out of the ice after smashing St. Anthony’s captain’s face, the team miserably keeps it together until the game’s over, Coach Jensen huddling them into some kind of emergency meeting.
You watch your boyfriend’s face switch into something almost unrecognizable for you — anger, sadness, humiliation, all together in the way his eyebrows furrow and lips frown.
Jules pulls you aside, their own face twitching in a dire way, “I think we should go.”
You want to say no, but deep down, you know they’re right. Jensen would never let that pass without a long, tiring admonition, and this one in particular should take a while, you think. So you sigh, linking your arms with Jules’ as you walk out back to your dorm.
—
You sit in silence, waiting for Logan to send you a text — a call, a smoke signal, any proof of life. Takes him two agonizing hours, and you jump once his name pops up in your screen.
logan: you at your dorm?
you: hello to you too
you: yes i am
you: how did it go?
logan: can i sleep at yours tonight
Your face drops. Much worse than you imagine, then.
you: of course
you: come over
It’s a 20 minute drive from their place to yours. Logan makes it in 12, knocking on your dorm exactly 15 minutes after he texts you. You open the door to find him looking knackered, shoulders crouched like he’s carrying the whole world over his shoulders.
“Aw, Logan,” you say, slightly opening your arms, a suggestion of a hug that he takes without hesitation, swooping you into his chest, “That bad?”
You feel him shaking his head, but he doesn’t say a word. You murmur, “Did you talk to him?”
He shrugs, letting go of you to walk into your bedroom. You notice he doesn’t have a bag with him, and you wonder if it’s anything to do with the conversation with Garrett, if he simply didn’t bother going back inside to pick anything up.
You sit in bed, patting on your pillow so he can lay down with you, “Get comfortable.”
His mouth opens into a soft grin, and he takes off his jeans before dropping into your bed and burrowing himself into your side.
“We’re fucked,” Logan says in a low, resigned voice, “Garrett’s out for the next four games.”
“No, you’re not,” your hand moves to his hair in a comforting manner, “Have you talked to him?”
He lets out a humourless chuckle, “I wouldn’t call it talking,” he says, “We had a pretty ugly argument back at the game.”
You hum, “I figured.”
“Then he wouldn’t talk about it when he got home.” He continues, “I got so mad– I couldn’t even face him.”
“That’s alright.”
Logan looks up at you, “Is it?”
“I mean, yeah. I think it’s okay for you to be mad at Garrett, as long as you two find a way to work it out.” You say, nails scratching the back of his head, “So what you yelled at each other? You both wait for things to calm down, you sit and talk. You’ll make it up.”
He lets out a chuckle, “Why do you always make it sound so much easier than it looks like?”
“Because it is. You boys just like making it harder,” you joke, then gently move your hand to his jaw, pulling his face up, forcing him to look in your eyes, “You’re good, Logan. A good player, sure. But also a really fucking good friend, yeah? You two will come around.”
He hums, turning his head to press a quick kiss to your hand, “I hope you’re right, honey.”
“I know I am.” You say, lightly pushing him, “Now get under the covers, you need to sleep. Take this day out of your system.”
Logan grins, then shifts to get under the covers, holding the blanket for you to join him, a makeshift fort around his shoulders for you to get under — which you do, gladly.
His arms sneak around your body, pulling you into him, “Thank you.” He murmurs, so quiet that you can feel his lips moving against your skin more than you can listen to him actually say it.
You turn to face him, fingertips brushing over his face for him to close his eyes, “Rest, honey. I got you.”
notes: thank you for reading! requests are open, likes/reblogs/thoughts are appreciated! <3
hiii can I request a logan x reader with some angst and it ends happily, it would take place at the time of the St.A's game where everyone's already on edge bc of how the game has been going and basically reader reassures him and such.
thanks smmmm
thank you for your request! you can read it here <3
got genuinely worried over the fact that i was running out of photos of logan for my fic covers and started digging through pinterest just to find an entire folder with 200+ screenshots from the show
Hiii sorry to bother you i just wanted to ask if you got my request for a Logan fic, because if you didn’t i just send it to you again if its not a problem?🥹
Anyway hope you had/have a good day regardless🫶🏻✨
hiiii! not a bother at all, yes i did get your message! it’s taking me some time to go through my requests, but yours is in the works! so sorry for the wait and thank you so much for your request! <3
Hello! I also forgot to add but regarding the John Logan x Reader fic, if you can make it a part 2 to your newest fic "Someday, someday"
Thanks!
hello! i’ll keep your other ask in my askbox so i can tag the fic when i post it, thank you so much for your request! <3
i have another very similar request in the works right now, so i’ll probably combine the two of them! it won’t necessarily be a sequel, but it will follow the same idea of unplanned pregnancy trope! hope that’s okay with you!
agreed!!!! especially the bridge like “he's so smug, mr. always wins. so far above me in every sense, so far above feeling anything” !!!!
that being said i’d also like to push the dean as cowboy like me agenda (in the sense of being a character who never meant to fall in love but he did and it changed him forever)
Heyy! I saw that you are taking requests for John Logan. I have this scenario running in my head for days that reader works at Malone’s or something and during her shift she helps a single mother with her baby. Like plays with the baby or comforts the crying baby while the mother has her food. And John watching all of this with an absolute soft look in his eyes. Baby fever almost takes over him but of course they are in college and hence don’t make that decision. Maybe the team teasing him. Oh the possibilities are endless. Anyhow just wanted to send this over to you. I have never requested anything so don’t know how this works. Don’t even know if I am posting it in the correct page or it will show up on your wall hehehe.
hiiiii thank you for your request!!! <3 you can read it here
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