I like sports!! I’ll mostly watch anything if it seems interesting but my main sports are hockey, lacrosse and golf. I am also interested in baseball, and football
I’m from Boston so I’m Boston down with any sport
My teams : NHL: Buffalo Sabres, Boston Bruins PWHL: Boston Fleet SHL/SDHL: Frölunda hc MLB: Boston Red Sox PLL: Boston Cannons WLL: Boston guard
I do talk shit about opponent teams a lot please do not take it to heart I’m probably just yapping
I do RPF alottt on here so if you are uncomfortable with that please leave 🤍
All my edits
I promise I don’t bite and I love talking to people so please do feel free to come into my dms or ask box :)
actually love the idea of logan being so subconsciously protective like it’s built into him. like when fans are around his big meaty hands are on your hip or waist, trying to be polite and waving them but his priority is you, keeping you close, moving you like a little doll. always standing right behind you in crowds like a damn skyscraper of a bodyguard. hand holding and guiding you through cities, snapback on, smacking on down gum so chiller and then and easy tug that sends you right back because oh some idiot driver runs a light but it’s ok he saw it, you didn’t. you’re so switched off because he’s so alert. you’re his angel baby and he’s built to keep you safe 🫠🫠🫠
pairing: logan cooley x fwb!reader (i miss them and i just know he'd be so protective over her)
word count: 731
warnings: none
a/n: not sure how well this fits
you're about half way into your first week of staying in pittsburg, when logan manages to coax you out of bed early, persuading you with coffee and a breakfast bagel to spend most of the morning watching him, and a few others from the area, practice.
it's early, but it doesn't stop a few kids lingering around, their faces sticking to the glass, eager eyes and bright smiles as they watch logan zip around the ice. some are dressed in gear, waiting for their turn on the ice, their parents sitting a few feet away from you, lost in their own conversations about little jimmy's dentist appointment next saturday, and how one of the mom's sister has just got her kids a puppy, so now her own kids are pestering her for a puppy. reverting conversations you quickly drown out, switching your focus back to logan, whose feeding pucks to his cousin, and sneaking glances up at you.
he's checking to see if you're okay, lips subtly twitching whenever he catches your eyes and you instinctively look away, hiding a smile and the blush that slowly darkens your cheeks.
“and she's not your girlfriend because…?” LJ asks, coming to a stop beside him, both hands resting on the top of his stick, chin resting on his hands, catching his breath.
“because she's just a friend,” logan grunts, peeking out of the corner of his eyes.
“right,” his cousins nods, letting his eyes follow the same path as logan's, coming to a stop at the top of the benches, to where you're sat. he's checking again, scanning your body language, looking for any excuse to leave the ice and go to you. “so, i-”
“don't even think about it,” logan cuts him off, gripping his stick tighter, the lump sharp, scraping against the lining of his throat as he swallows his jealousy.
LJ grins, eyes sweeping back down to logan, “easy, i'm joking.” he tucks one glove under his arm, and adjusts his helmet. “mostly.” logan arches his eyebrows, pinning down with a hard stare. “you get jealous easily over someone who's just a friend.”
“she is just a friend.”
“whatever you say.”
another hour goes by before logan finally steps off the ice, little kids surrounding him as he emerges from the locker room, kit bag slung over one shoulder, hair damp and hidden under a cap, eyes already scanning the crowd for you, that uncomfortable feeling in his chest easing when he finds you at the back of the pack.
he goes through the motions of signing shirts, hats, cards, just about whatever the kids want, all whilst still keeping an eye on you, ready to sweep in and move you away the second you start to look uncomfortable. they're just kids, but he knows you're prickly about crowds, always keeping one hand on your back, or clasped together with yours, whenever you're out, keeping you close. keeping you protected.
with the last kids jersey signed, he lets out a sigh of relief now that he can finally get to you. he cups his hand sweetly against your neck, his thumb stroking the spot just under your ear, lips lingering as he kisses your hairline. “you good?”
“all good,” you smile up at him, “just tired.”
he chuckles, moving his mouth down to your cheek. “so a nap when we get back?”
“as long as you shower first,”
he frowns, pulls the collar of his shirt, giving himself a quick sniff. “i don't even smell that bad,” he grunts, the scent of the rink and sweat mostly masked with deodorant and cologne.
“that's a lie,” LJ murmurs, tapping his back as he passes.
he lifts his head, eyes narrowing at his back, “you can always walk back to yours, you know?”
you lightly smack logan's arm, “don't be so mean.”
“yeah, listen to your not-girlfriend,” his cousin chuckles, both of you rolling your eyes as he walks off in front of you.
he wraps his arm around your shoulders, “you sure you're okay?” he pulls you in close, kissing the top of your head. “i know how you are with crowds.”
“oh, that pack of twelve year olds? that crowd?”
“shut up,” he mumbles, half smiling against you. he pulls away after another kiss, his hand slipping down to squeeze your side. “just making sure my favourite girl is comfortable.”
