[rinvvii]

masterlist ❤︎ wattpad

°❀.ೃ࿔* rin. she/her. Fil. 17. multifandom

I like love and deep space, epic the musical, the pitt, anime, manga, crochet, and all kinds of films and television.

just writing for fun whenever motivation decides to show up. i mainly write x reader afab/fem!reader fics without using y/n. feel free to drop by my inbox to chat or share ideas. kindness and patience are appreciated <3 no smut here.

© 2026 rinvvii

[rinvvii]

Hiii, I am quite busy rn. I have research defense to do and isssssssss making my brain go mad. I might not able to write for this past weeks. Don't worry tho, I assure you guys that I will write one of your request from my inbox. Thank you!

[rinvvii]

hii love how you write John Logan!!

I was wondering if you would be able to write a Logan x fem!reader fic based on the scene in the show where Hannah kisses Logan?? Maybe like a miscommunication trope between Logan and the reader where she walks in on it happening.

Thank you!

Thank you so much bae that you enjoy my writings!! But omg that would be perfect 😭😭😭 I will try to write it 💕💕💕

[rinvvii]

I have two incomplete fanfics of silco and viktor from arcane, and I completely forgot I had a wattpad acc OMG HAHA. Now I don't know how to continue the story, like bro that was like 2024. A few years back, I was pretty completely obsessed with arcane, and I can't stop talking about it, I just like all of them 💕💕

[rinvvii]

I got myself giggling through my ideas in the middle of the night alone

[rinvvii]

𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 𝜗𝜚⋆₊˚

.☘︎ ݁˖ RESIDENT EVIL

— currently ; leon kennedy

.☘︎ ݁˖ OFF CAMPUS

— currently ; john logan

© 2026 rinvvii

[rinvvii]

𝑶𝑭𝑭 𝑪𝑨𝑴𝑷𝑼𝑺 ₊˚⊹ ᰔ

one shots

Too pretty to keep secret (1) (2) — john logan x FIGURE SKATER! reader 【6.03k)

The boyfriend in row three — john logan x FIGURE SKATER! reader (1.92k】

I'm looking at you — john logan x reader (1.62k】

© 2026 rinvvii

[rinvvii]

𝑹𝑬𝑺𝑰𝑫𝑬𝑵𝑻 𝑬𝑽𝑰𝑳 ₊˚⊹ ᰔ

one shots

Too late to leave now — leon kennedy x reader [3.19k)

Routine — leon kennedy x OCD! reader (1.01k】

Eyes on target — leon kennedy x reader 【806】

Are you done barking, baby? — leon kennedy x reader 【1.66k】

© 2026 rinvvii

[rinvvii]

are you done barking, baby?; leon Kennedy

summary: you come back from a mission with leon, furious at how reckless he was, and you spend the next hour following him around headquarters yelling at him. but leon isn’t really listening to the anger—he’s watching how you won’t let him out of your sight, and slowly realizes it was never just anger.

pairings: leon kennedy x reader

RIN'S NOTE: I first came across this idea on tiktok. Her account is @/oglexistar, and I love her sm. She is hilarious. She has a lot going on with her content, so you guys should follow her. While watching this video, all I can think about is Leon, even though her idea is supposed to be Gojo from JJK which is also making me giggle about it too hehe. I hope it was fun for all of you!

【 WC 1.66k 】

The mission had been over for almost an hour.

Unfortunately, your anger had not.

"You are unbelievable."

Leon didn't even look up.

The man had the audacity to be sitting at a workbench in the armory, calmly disassembling his handgun while you followed him around headquarters like an extremely angry shadow.

"You drove a motorcycle through a second-story window."

A click. A magazine dropped into his hand.

"It worked."

"It was insane."

"It was effective."

You stared at the side of his head. Leon Kennedy, apparently, had chosen today to be the most irritating man alive.

"You know what?" you continued. "I don't even know why I bother arguing with you."

"That's a good question."

Your eye twitched. Across the room, another agent wisely decided to leave. Coward.

Leon continued cleaning his weapon as if you weren't standing there mentally preparing several crimes.

The worst part?

He wasn't even trying to defend himself. That somehow made it worse.

"You almost got yourself killed."

"Didn't."

"That's not the point."

"Hm."

That stupid sound. That stupid, knowing sound. You pointed at him immediately.

"Stop doing that."

"Doing what?"

"That."

"Very specific."

"Oh my God."

Leon chuckled under his breath. You wanted to throw something at him. Instead, you followed him when he stood. Of course you did.

He moved from the armory to the hallway.

You followed.

“What you did on the mission is unbelievable!”

Then the break room.

You followed.

“How can you be so chill about this?!”

Then his office.

You followed.

“How can you be such a stupid bastard?!”

At this point, it had become less of an argument and more of a lifestyle.

"You know," Leon said as he walked, "most people celebrate after successful missions."

"We almost died."

"We didn't."

"That's not helping."

"It should."

"It doesn't."

Leon opened his office door and let's you in first as he step aside while you keep throwing curses at him.

You marched right past him. Still talking. Still irritated.

Still completely unaware that he was watching you more than he was listening.

You didn't even notice that he open the door for you first before he follows you inside. A gentleman, truly. The door clicked shut behind him.

"You jumped off a moving vehicle."

"You would've complained if I stayed on it."

"I would've preferred that over watching you launch yourself into traffic."

Leon dropped a folder onto his desk. Then your gun beside it. Cleaned. Maintained. Already put back together.

You hadn't even realized he'd taken it from you earlier.

"You're impossible."

"Probably."

"You never think."

"I do."

"No, you don't."

"I thought about jumping through the window."

"That is the problem!"

A grin tugged at the corner of his mouth.

You hated that grin. Mostly because it always made him look unfairly handsome.

You continued pacing. Around the desk. Past the bookshelf. Back toward the door.

Still talking. Still venting. Still going.

Leon watched for another minute before finally sighing. Long. Patient.

The kind of sigh a man released when he'd finally figured something out.

"Are you done barking, baby?"

The room went silent. You froze mid-step. Slowly. Very slowly. You turned toward him.

"...Excuse me?"

Leon leaned back against his desk. Completely unbothered.

"I was just asking."

"You were just asking?"

"Yeah.”

Your jaw dropped. "What the hell are you talking about?" His expression remained infuriatingly calm.

"I asked a question."

"You called me a dog."

"No."

"Leon."

"I asked if my woman was done barking."

Your brain briefly stopped functioning.

"Your—"

"Yep."

"That is not the issue right now."

"Sure."

"Don't change the subject."

"I'm not."

"We almost failed the mission because of you!"

"And we also completed the mission because of me."

"You son of a—"

The insult died instantly.

Because suddenly Leon was standing right in front of you. One moment he'd been leaning against the desk. The next he'd crossed the room. Close enough that you forgot the rest of your sentence. Close enough that your heart immediately became uncooperative.

The bastard noticed. Of course he noticed.

He noticed everything.

"What's really the problem?"

His voice had changed. Less teasing. Less sarcasm. Still calm. Still steady.

But now there was something underneath it. Something that made it impossible to keep talking in circles.

"What are you talking about?"

"I'm talking about the fact that you've followed me around headquarters for the last hour."

You folded your arms. Defensive. Leon immediately clocked it.

"I was making a point."

"Hm."

"There you go again."

"Baby."

You groaned. "Don't baby me."

"Sweetheart."

"Worse." A faint smile appeared. Mission accomplished. Then it disappeared just as quickly.

"You checked on me in the armory."

You frowned.

"I was getting my equipment."

"You checked on me in the break room."

"You were making coffee."

"You checked on me in the hallway."

Your jaw tightened. Leon tilted his head slightly. The look in his eyes softened. Not enough to be obvious. Just enough for you to notice. And that somehow made everything worse.

Leon didn’t move away. That was the problem. He stayed right there.

Too close. Too calm. Too aware of everything happening inside your head like it was written on your face.

“You’re not angry,” he said again, quieter this time.

“I am.”

“No.”

You huffed. “I literally just spent an hour yelling at you.”

Leon’s eyes flickered briefly over your face. Like he was studying you. Not in a tactical way. Not like a mission.

In a way that made it impossible to keep your thoughts straight.

“That wasn’t anger,” he said.

You scoffed. “Oh? Then what was it?”

A pause. Then, casually—

“Panic.”

Your breath caught. You immediately hated that word. Hated how easily he said it. Hated that it was correct.

“I don’t panic,” you muttered.

Leon hummed. That low sound again. The one that always made your patience snap.

“You do when I disappear from your sight for more than ten seconds.”

“I was not—”

“You were counting.”

Silence. You froze. Leon tilted his head slightly.

“Armory. Hallway. Break room. Office.”

His voice stayed calm. Unbothered.

“Every time I turned around, you were still there.” Your jaw tightened. “That’s because I was still talking to you.”

“Mhm.”

He stepped half a pace closer. Not enough to trap you. Just enough that your brain stopped cooperating again.

“And every time I stopped talking,” he added, quieter, “you got closer.”

Your heart did something extremely inconvenient.

“I didn’t.”

“You did.”

A beat. Then, softer.

“Baby.”

That did it. You exhaled sharply.

“Stop calling me that when I’m mad at you.” Leon’s mouth curved slightly.

“I’m not sure you are.”

Your glare should’ve been lethal. It wasn’t. Because he looked entirely too composed.

Too confident. Like he already knew how this ended. “You’re enjoying this,” you accused.

“Maybe.”

“Leon.”

He leaned slightly against the edge of his desk now. Completely relaxed. Completely unfair.

“I like when you talk to me,” he said. That alone made your brain short-circuit.

“…That’s not what I’m doing.”

“It is.”

“No, I’m— I’m yelling at you.”

“Same thing.”

Your eyes widened. “That is absolutely not the same thing.” Leon’s gaze dropped briefly to your mouth. So quick you almost thought you imagined it. Almost.

Then he looked back at your eyes. And your entire argument collapsed a little.

“…You’re insufferable,” you muttered.

“Mm.”

A pause. Then he added, casually.

“But you’re still standing here.”

Your breath hitched slightly. Because that was the problem, wasn’t it? You could’ve left.

You could’ve stormed out of his office. You didn’t. You stayed.

“You always do that,” he said quietly.

“Do what?”

“Follow me.”

You scoffed. “I do not follow you.”

Leon raised an eyebrow. The look said really?

You opened your mouth. Closed it again. Because unfortunately. He was right. Again.

Leon pushed off the desk slightly.

Now he was closer. Properly close. His voice dropped just enough to make it harder to think.

“Say it then.” Your brows furrowed. “Say what?”

“That you’re just mad.”

A beat.

“And not something else.”

Your throat tightened. You hated him. You really did. Because he was looking at you like he already knew the answer.

Like he was just waiting for you to admit it out loud.

“You’re ridiculous,” you said instead. Leon smiled faintly. “Am I?”

“Yes.”

“Mm.”

Another step closer. Now there was barely any space left between you. Not enough to back away without it being obvious.

Not enough to breathe properly.

“You know,” he said, voice lower now, “if this is your way of getting my attention…”

“I don’t need your attention.”

That came out too fast. Too sharp. Leon’s smile widened slightly.

“Oh?”

Your silence betrayed you. He noticed immediately. Of course he did. His hand lifted again. Not to touch you fully.

Just enough to adjust your collar. Slow. Deliberate.

Like he had all the time in the world.

“You’ve had it all day, sweetheart.”

Your stomach flipped. Again. Annoyingly.

“And you still followed me around,” he added softly. You glared at him. Weakly.

“That’s not—”

Leon leaned in just slightly. Not enough to kiss you. Not enough to cross the line.

Just enough that his voice brushed against you when he spoke.

“You gonna keep pretending you’re just angry?”

Your breath caught again. Because now he was definitely enjoying this. Absolutely. There was no way he wasn’t.

“Leon…”

“Yeah?”

The way he said your name this time was worse than the pet names. Because it wasn’t teasing.

It was patient. Like he was waiting you out.

Like he knew you’d fold. And worst of all?

He was right. So damn right.

You looked up at him again. And for a second, you forgot what you were even supposed to be mad about.

Which, unfortunately, seemed to be the entire point.

“…I hate you,” you muttered.

Leon smiled. Soft. Slightly smug.

“No, you don’t.”

And this time, you didn’t even argue back.

Mission accomplished.

© 2026 rinvvii

[rinvvii]

i'm looking at you; john logan

summary: you spend hours picking the perfect photos to post, while logan insists he doesn't understand instagram. but after becoming your unofficial photographer and photo critic, you learn that his favorite picture of you isn't one you'd ever upload—it’s one he never stopped looking at.

pairings: john logan x reader

RIN'S NOTE: I was just taking a selfie of myself 2 days ago likeee idk I am just a bit confident that day then before I posted it on my insta this just pops out in my mind and go to my laptop to write it, hehe.

【 WC 1.62k 】

You learned a lot from dating John Logan.

Among them were John Logan's ability to score goals under duress, pass college tests that he ought to have studied for sooner, and still manage to be one of the most endearing individuals you've ever encountered.

Another was that he had absolutely no respect for Instagram.

At least, that's what he claimed.

"Why do you need twenty-seven photos?" Logan asked. You looked up from your phone in disbelief.

"Twenty-seven isn't even that many."

Logan glanced down at the screen.

Then at you.

Then back at the screen.

"They're the same picture."

"They're not."

"They absolutely are."

You gasped dramatically. Across the couch, Garrett didn't even look up from his game. "Don't get involved, Logan. You're already losing."

"I'm not losing."

"You are," Garrett said. "Trust me."

You immediately held your phone closer to Logan's face.

"Look."

"I am looking, baby."

"No, actually look."

Logan sighed. The two photos looked nearly identical. Same pose. Same smile. Same coffee cup.

But because he'd been dating you long enough, he knew better than to say that.

So he studied them. Seriously. For you.

Like he was reviewing game footage. Your eyes narrowed suspiciously.

"Well?"

"The second one."

You blinked. "Why?"

Logan shrugged.

"Better lighting."

You stared. Then slowly pointed at him.

"See? You get it."

"No, I don't."

"You do."

"I don't."

"You literally noticed the lighting."

Garrett finally looked over.

"Oh, he's gone."

"What does that mean?" Logan asked.

"It means you've become an Instagram boyfriend."

The horrified look on Logan's face made you laugh.

The problem was that it kept happening.

Every day. Everywhere.

At first, Logan only took your pictures because you asked. Then somehow it became routine.

Walking downtown?

"Babe, picture."

At a café?

"Logan, picture."

Pretty sunset?

"Baby."

And every single time he complained. While still taking the photo.

"Move a little to the left."

You paused.

"What?"

"The light."

You stared. Slowly. Carefully.

"Excuse me?"

Logan immediately realized his mistake.

Across the table, Hannah burst out laughing.

"Oh my god." Dean pointed dramatically.

"He said it."

"Said what?"

"'The light.'"

Garrett looked genuinely emotional.

"They grow up so fast."

"Shut up."

You were already grinning. Because Logan had started noticing things.

The background. The angles. The lighting.

And worst of all? He was good at it. Really good. Sometimes he'd hand your phone back and you'd stare at the pictures in shock.

"Logan."

"What?"

"These are amazing."

He looked confused.

"You just stood there, baby"

"Exactly."

A few weeks later, the situation became even worse. You were sitting on the couch with your head laying on Logan's shoulder while you scroll through your camera roll.

Trying to decide what to post. Again.

"Question."

Logan sighed.

"There it is."

"Which picture?"

You held your phone up. Three selfies. Logan looked. For about two seconds.

"The third one."

Your eyes widened. "That fast?"

"The third one."

"Why?"

"The smile's more real."

Silence. You stared. Logan stared back.

Then slowly returned to his phone. Like he hadn't just completely ruined your day.

Because what did he mean, the smile was more real?

And why he was right?

The thing was, Logan noticed things. Small things. The things nobody else paid attention to.

When you were genuinely happy versus when you were forcing a smile.

When you liked an outfit but were pretending you didn't care.

When you felt confident.

When you didn't.

Which was why he noticed immediately when you stopped asking about pictures.

At first, he didn't think much of it. Then three days passed.

No Instagram questions.

No photo requests.

Nothing.

You were sprawled across Logan's bed while he sat at his desk pretending to study.

Pretending being the important word.

Because every few minutes, his eyes drifted away from his textbook and toward you. At the moment, you were scrolling through your camera roll with a deep frown.

Delete. Delete. Delete.

Another photo disappeared. Then another. Then another.

Logan watched for a minute before finally speaking.

"What happened?"

You didn't look up.

"Nothing."

"That's not true."

You sighed dramatically. "I look weird." Logan blinked.

"What?"

"In the pictures."

He stared at you for a second. Then at your phone. Then back at you.

"You asked me to take those."

"I know."

"And now they're bad?"

"I didn't say bad."

"You literally just deleted twenty of them."

You groaned and flopped backward onto his bed. "Forget it."

Logan immediately knew not to forget it.

Because he knew you. And sometimes, when you got frustrated with yourself, you started seeing flaws nobody else could see.

So he held out his hand.

"Give me the phone." Suspiciously, you handed it over. Logan scrolled.

One picture.

Then another.

Then another.

A few more.

His brows furrowed slightly. You watched him nervously. "Well?"

"I'm confused."

That wasn't the answer you expected.

"What do you mean?"

Logan looked up. "I'm trying to figure out which part is supposed to look weird." Your face immediately heated.

"Logan."

"I'm serious."

"You have boyfriend bias."

"Obviously."

You buried your face in a pillow. Immediately. Because somehow that answer was worse. Logan laughed quietly.

The mattress shifted slightly as he moved closer. Then he gently tugged the pillow down just enough so he could see your eyes.

"There you are."

You glared at him. Weakly. Logan remained completely unbothered.

"You keep looking at the pictures trying to find flaws."

You rolled your eyes.

"And?"

His expression softened.

"And I'm looking at you."

Your heart did something incredibly annoying. Logan seemed completely unaware of the damage he'd just caused.

Typical.

For a second, neither of you spoke. Then he handed the phone back. You glanced down at the screen.

The same pictures. The same lighting. The same smile.

Nothing had changed. Yet somehow they didn't seem quite as bad anymore.

"You know," Logan said casually, leaning back against the headboard.

"Hm?"

"My favorite pictures of you aren't even on Instagram."

You frowned.

"What does that mean?"

"Nothing."

Your eyes narrowed immediately.

"Logan."

"Nothing."

"Logan."

He smiled. The kind of smile that told you he absolutely knew something you didn't.

"What pictures?"

"Not telling you."

"Why?"

"Because you'll make fun of me." Your jaw dropped.

"That's suspicious."

"It should be."

"Logan!"

He laughed. Actually laughed. Then reached over and stole your phone before you could continue interrogating him.

The conversation ended there. Or at least, you thought it did.

Because later that night, when Logan's phone buzzed from the nightstand and he asked you to grab it for him.

The screen lit up. And suddenly, everything made sense.

For a second, you just stared.

Then stared some more. Because there you were. Curled up asleep on Logan's couch.

One of his hoodies swallowed you whole, sleeves covering your hands. Your hair was a complete mess, your cheek squished against a cushion, and one leg was hanging off the edge like you'd fallen asleep halfway through moving.

It wasn't a flattering picture. It wasn't posed. You weren't even looking at the camera. You had no idea it existed.

And yet, it was his lock screen.

Your heart immediately did something stupid.

"Logan."

The second he heard your voice, he knew.

"Oh no."

You slowly turned his phone around.

"What is this?"

Logan dropped his head back against the headboard. Like a man accepting his fate.

"It's a picture."

"Of me."

"Yeah."

"Sleeping."

"You were asleep at the time." You laughed despite yourself.

"That's not the point."

"Seems relevant."

"Logan."

He peeked at you from beneath one eye.

You were smiling. That made this significantly worse. "When did you even take this?" He groaned. "I don't know."

"Logan."

"A few months ago."

"A few months?"

"It sounds worse when you say it like that."

You stared at him. Then back at the phone. Then back at him. Out of every picture he'd ever taken.

The café photos.

The sunset pictures.

The ones you'd actually posted.

The dozens sitting in his camera roll.

He'd picked this one.

This sleepy, messy, completely unplanned picture.

"Why this one?" you asked quietly.

Logan looked genuinely confused by the question. Like the answer should've been obvious.

His gaze flickered toward the screen. Then back to you. And his shoulders lifted in a small shrug.

"Because it's my favorite."

Your chest tightened instantly.

"Why?"

"You want the honest answer?"

"Obviously."

For a second, Logan simply looked at you softly. The same way he always did when he forgot to hide how much he loved you.

Then he reached over and brushed a loose strand of hair behind your ear.

"You looked happy, baby."

The room suddenly felt very quiet. You glanced down at the picture again.

Messy hair. Oversized hoodie. Half hanging off the couch.

Nothing about it was Instagram-worthy. Nothing about it was perfect.

But looking at it now, you remembered that day. Movie playing in the background. Logan studying nearby.

Falling asleep because you felt safe enough to. And somehow, that made your eyes sting a little.

"You know," you said softly, "for someone who claims to hate Instagram, you're kind of sentimental." Logan immediately looked offended.

"I am not sentimental."

"You have a secret collection of candid photos of me, don't you?"

Silence.

Your jaw dropped. "Oh my god."

"It sounds worse than it is."

"How many are there!?"

Logan refused to answer. Which was an answer. You gasped dramatically.

"John Logan."

He was laughing now. Actually laughing. The kind that crinkled the corners of his eyes.

And suddenly you couldn't stop smiling either. Because after all those months of asking.

Which picture should I post?

Which one looks better?

Which song should I use?

You finally realized something. His favorite picture wasn't on your Instagram. It wasn't even on your phone.

It was sitting on Logan's lock screen.

And somehow, that meant a whole lot more.

© 2026 rinvvii

[rinvvii]

I was supposed to study for entrance exams in college, but right now, all I can think about is creating fanfiction about all the damned hot fictional men.

please help me gawd!!!

[rinvvii]

I always been thinking to write gojo satoru x HIGHER UP!reader likeeee yk yk what I mean ugh 😫😫😫

[rinvvii]

the boyfriend in row three; john logan

summary: you have a competition, and logan and the boys show up to support you in their own chaotic way. with logan quietly by your side before you skate and the others cheering way too loudly from the stands. You perform under pressure and don’t win first place but you leave the ice feeling like you didn’t lose anything that matters.

pairings: john logan x FIGURE SKATER! reader

RIN'S NOTE: this is requested by a lovely anon hehe, I hope you enjoyed it!

【 WC 1.92k 】

Logan didn’t understand figure skating. Not really. He understood hockey. 

Crowds. Pressure. Competition.

But figure skating? Figure skating felt terrifying.

Mostly because everybody looked so calm about things that absolutely should not have been physically possible.

“You’re telling me she jumps,” Tucker said slowly from across the cafeteria table, “and lands on a knife shoe.”

Across from him, Garrett snorted into his drink while Dean leaned back in his chair looking deeply invested in the conversation.

“I think it’s elegant,” Dean announced.

“You think everything’s elegant.”

“That’s because I have taste.”

Logan barely paid attention to the conversation happening around him. Instead, his focus stayed entirely on you sitting beside him while scrolling through your competition schedule with a tiny crease between your brows.

You’d been doing that all week.

Thinking too hard. Over-preparing.

Getting quieter the closer the competition got.

Logan noticed all of it.

“You’re stressing again,” he said softly.

Your head lifted immediately. “I’m not.”

“You reorganized your skating bag three times yesterday.”

“That means nothing.”

“It means you’re spiraling.”

Garrett pointed immediately. “See? He knows.”

You groaned quietly while Logan only looked smug for half a second before his expression softened again.

“Hey,” he murmured, nudging your knee gently beneath the table. “You’re gonna be fine.” You smiled faintly at him.

And Tucker looked between both of you suspiciously.

“…You guys are weirdly intense.”

Dean burst out laughing.

A few days before the competition, Hannah found you alone at the rink stretching after practice.

Music echoed quietly through the nearly empty arena while cold air curled against your skin.

“You’re still here?” Hannah asked softly.

You looked up from the floor. “Coach added extra run-throughs.”

She hummed knowingly before sitting beside you. For a moment, neither of you said anything. Then Hannah glanced toward you carefully.

“You’re nervous.”

You exhaled through your nose quietly.

“A little.”

“Liar."

You laughed softly at that before dropping your head back against the wall behind you. “I don’t know,” you admitted eventually. “I think it feels worse this year.”

“Why?”

Your fingers fiddled absentmindedly with the sleeves of your hoodie.

“Because now people I care about are watching.”

Hannah’s expression softened immediately.

Oh.

She understood that feeling.

Performing in front of strangers was easy sometimes. But performing in front of people whose opinions mattered?

That was terrifying.

“You know the funny thing about performing?” she asked quietly.

You glanced toward her.

“The people who love you already want you to succeed before you even start.”

Your chest tightened slightly. Because she was right. And somehow that almost made it scarier. Hannah nudged your shoulder lightly afterward.

“Also, if Logan somehow makes you more nervous, I’ll kill him." You laughed again.

“Fair.”

Logan was absolutely making things worse. Not intentionally.

But every time you caught him looking at you lately, he had this expression on his face like the competition already mattered deeply to him too. Which was unfair.

Because now you wanted to do well for him too. A dangerous thought.

One evening after practice, you sat on one of the rink benches retightening your skates for the third time. Nervous habit.

“You’re doing it again.”

You looked up immediately. Logan walked toward you carrying two hot chocolates in his hands. You accepted yours gratefully. “I’m not nervous.”

“You tied your skates so tight yesterday your foot went numb.”

“…That happened once.”

“It shouldn’t happen at all.”

You rolled your eyes softly while Logan sat beside you.

For a few quiet seconds, the rink remained peaceful around you. Empty bleachers. Cold air. Soft scraping sounds from another skater practicing in the distance.

Then Logan glanced toward you carefully.

“You know you don’t have to be perfect, right?”

You stared down into your drink.

“Easy for you to say.”

“No,” Logan said quietly. “Easy for me to see.”

Your throat tightened a little at that. Because he sounded so sure. Like there wasn’t a version of this competition where he’d think less of you.

Then Logan reached over absentmindedly and zipped your jacket higher after noticing you shiver. Automatic.

Like taking care of you had become instinct now. “You know,” you murmured softly, “you’re surprisingly good at emotional support.” Logan looked thoughtful.

“I think hockey emotionally prepared me for this.”

“You punched somebody last week.”

“He deserved it.”

You laughed quietly. And Logan smiled immediately hearing it. God. He loved making you laugh. Unfortunately—

“Okay wait.”

Both of you looked up. Tucker stood near the rink entrance holding a notebook. A literal notebook. You blinked. “Why do you have that?”

“I’m studying.”

Dean appeared behind him immediately looking exhausted already. “He’s been asking questions for thirty minutes.”

Tucker ignored him and looked back toward you seriously. “What’s the difference between jumps?” You stared.

“Tucker—”

“No seriously. If I’m supporting you, I need context.”

Garrett walked in behind them carrying snacks.

“I told him not to research.”

“You can research figure skating?”

“I found charts.”

You covered your face laughing while Logan groaned beside you.

“This is all my fault somehow.”

“It really is,” Dean agreed.

Competition day arrived too quickly.

Logan had expected nerves. He had not expected genuine emotional distress.

“She’ll be fine,” Garrett said for the fifth time while the boys sat together in the arena stands. Logan nodded once.

Then immediately went back to staring at the ice anxiously. Dean looked at him.

“You look like you’re waiting outside a delivery room.”

“I’m supporting my girlfriend.”

“You look one inconvenience away from fighting a judge.”

“That depends on the scores.”

Garrett burst out laughing. The arena slowly filled around them while skaters warmed up beneath bright overhead lights.

And then, there you were.

Logan’s entire expression changed instantly. You moved carefully across the ice in your warmup jacket, adjusting your gloves before starting another practice run.

Beautiful.

Not in the dramatic movie kind of way. Just, familiar and comfortable. You looked toward the stands eventually.

And the second you spotted Logan sitting there, something in your expression relaxed. Like finding him there steadied you. Garrett noticed immediately.

“She was looking for you.”

Logan tried very hard not to smile too hard but failed completely.

By the time your event officially began, Logan’s heart was beating harder than it ever did before hockey games.

The arena dimmed slightly. The crowd quieted. And you stepped into position at center ice.

For one terrifying second, everything felt still. Then the music started. Logan forgot how breathing worked.

You moved across the ice effortlessly, every step smooth enough to make the routine look easy even though he knew how much work sat underneath every movement.

Beside him, Tucker leaned forward slowly.

“…How are people even built for this?”

Dean nodded solemnly. “Fear.”

Garrett shushed them both immediately.

Because you’d started your first jump. Logan physically leaned forward in his seat. You landed it perfectly. The crowd applauded loudly.

“Yes!” Logan shouted before he could stop himself. Several people turned toward him.

He didn’t care. Not when you looked that good out there. The second jump landed even cleaner.

Garrett clapped hard beside him while Dean whistled loudly.

Tucker nearly stood up too early before the spin finished.

“Oh my god,” he whispered aggressively. “She’s spinning so fast.”

Logan laughed breathlessly under his breath. Because somehow, watching you skate felt emotional.

Like he was watching the person he loved doing something that completely belonged to them. And for a few minutes, nothing else existed except you moving beneath the lights.

Then your final pose hit. The arena erupted. And Logan stood immediately with the others. “That is my girlfriend!”

Dean doubled over laughing beside him.

“You’re insane.”

Logan didn’t even deny it. Because maybe he was.

Stuffed animals and flowers scattered across the ice while you bowed politely despite breathing hard from exertion.

Your chest still rose unevenly when you finally skated off the rink. And for a second. You weren’t sure.

The routine had felt good. Mostly. But there were tiny mistakes too. Tiny moments only you probably noticed.

Enough to leave uncertainty curling uncomfortably in your stomach while scores flashed across the screen.

Not first.

Not even close enough to challenge for it.

A familiar disappointment settled quietly in your chest. Not devastating. Just heavy.

You worked hard for this. You wanted more. By the time you reached the hallway outside the rink, you’d mostly hidden the feeling away already. At least until—

“There she is.”

You looked up immediately. Logan stood waiting near the doors holding a bouquet behind his back. Your chest tightened instantly.

The boys crowded behind him looking ridiculously emotional.

Dean pointed dramatically at you. “Robbery. Actual robbery.”

Garrett nodded seriously. “Your score was insane.”

“I booed internally,” Tucker informed you.

That made you laugh softly for the first time since leaving the ice. Then Logan stepped closer quietly. And finally handed you the bouquet.

Your favorite flowers. Of course they were.

“You didn’t have to do this,” you murmured.

“I know.”

Your eyes lifted toward him. And Logan smiled softly. “You were incredible.”

Not: you should’ve won.

Not: the judges sucked.

Just: you were incredible.

Simple and honest. Your throat tightened embarrassingly fast. Because suddenly losing didn’t feel quite as sharp anymore.

Logan’s hand brushed gently against your waist afterward. “You okay?” You nodded once. Then sighed quietly. “A little disappointed.”

“That’s fair.”

You looked at him carefully. “You’re not gonna tell me I deserved first?”

Logan shook his head once.

“No.”

You blinked. Dean gasped dramatically behind him. Logan smiled faintly.

“I’m gonna tell you I loved watching you out there.”

Your entire chest ached. God. How was he real?

Then Tucker suddenly held out a small stuffed hockey bear toward you awkwardly.

“I caught this after Dean missed the throw.”

Dean looked offended. “I was emotional.”

You accepted the plushie immediately laughing. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” Tucker said proudly. “I still don’t understand the scoring system, but I support you aggressively.”

Garrett patted your shoulder warmly afterward.

“Seriously, you did great.”

“And Logan almost fought somebody during the second score reveal,” Dean added.

“I did not.”

“You stood up.”

“It was supportive standing.”

You laughed again. And Logan visibly relaxed hearing the sound.

Later that night, all of you ended up squeezed together inside a crowded bar booth downtown. Warm lights. Loud music. Half-finished drinks scattered across the table.

The competition replayed itself through conversation for almost an hour.

Tucker still didn’t understand spins.

Dean claimed artistic bias affected judging.

Garrett argued passionately about performance quality despite understanding absolutely nothing about figure skating.

And beside you, Logan stayed mostly quiet. Just listening.

His arm rested comfortably along the back of your booth while your knee pressed lightly against his beneath the table comfortable, warm, and easy. At one point, Garrett looked toward you with a grin.

“You know Logan screamed during one of the jumps, right?”

Your head snapped toward him instantly.

“You screamed?”

Logan looked offended.

“It was supportive.”

“It was terrifying,” Dean corrected.

“You scared the woman beside us,” Garrett added.

“She was weak.”

You laughed so hard you nearly spilled your drink. And Logan immediately looked at you with that soft expression again.

That one.

The terrifyingly in love one Dean kept complaining about. The competition hadn’t gone perfectly. You didn’t leave with first place or gold medals or the score you wanted.

But later, sitting tucked beside Logan while laughter and conversation filled the booth around you, his hand warm against your knee beneath the table, you realized none of that felt nearly as important anymore.

© 2026 rinvvii

[rinvvii]

helloo i love ur fic logan x figure skater reader

can i request a fic where logan and the boys watch and support reader on figure skating competition??

thank you so muchhh sorry for my english, not my first language 🙏🏻🫶🏻🫶🏻🫶🏻

Aww!! I am so grateful that you enjoy my fic 💕💕💕 I saw your mail a few days ago, and I just completed today writing the fic you requested! Hehe, I'll post it anytime and I hope you enjoy it reading it afterward! Love lots!

[pupisized]

[rinvvii]

While I was writing the part two of my John Logan fic, I always eat Cheetos using chopsticks so I can type, yolo.

cheetos giving me motivations

[rinvvii]

I love men when they know how to fix things