hiii i love your logan fics, could I request a fic where reader goes out with her friends and get super drunk and she decides to call logan to come pick her up, when she calls him he was slepping but gets dress and goes pick her up, on the way to the hockey house reader can't stop saying random things, when thwy fot to the house the guya are up and are funny cause of reader and tucker has a sandwich for her cause he knows she gets hungry when she drinks and she says he is her favorite guy and the rest are offended, logan gets reader to his room and they fall aesleep, THANKSS
one drink too many
pairing: john logan x f!reader (and the rest of the guys!)
word count: 1078
author note: i hope u like this <33333 i know the cabbage patch kids seem random but they have just been heavy on my mind.
the truth was, you were always a lightweight. it's the one thing that everyone seems to know about you. that you can't hold your alcohol no matter how hard you try. regardless, it isn't something that you let stop you. especially when you were out at the bar with your friends like you were tonight.
he is almost always the first person you call. it's like an instinct to find him in you contacts and press the call button. perhaps it was for the fact that he was always reliable. if you needed him, he would be there. it was the consistent, stable thing that you could always depend on. so, it makes sense that his voice comes across the line after a few rings. "hello?," he asks, his voice groggy and touched by sleep.
"hiiiii johnny," you say, voice high pitched and elated as it slurs the words out of your mouth. "you will never guess where i am," you continue with a giddy sort of laugh.
there is a pause, perhaps he was checking the time, before his voice comes through again, "the bar, right? with the girls?"
"how did you know that?," you ask, with another laugh as you look at the girls sitting next to you. they also seem to be giggling, as if they are in on the joke.
"babe, you texted me about it," he says with a soft laugh.
"oh," you say then, eyes rolling despite the fact that he can't see. "do you think you could come get me?," you ask, your voice turning into something that was sickly sweet. if he was able to see you, he would see the pleading look in your eye. "please," you continue, voice just turning sweeter.
there is another pause, and you can hear ruffling on the other side of the phone. then a sigh, but not an upset one, comes through the line before he says, "i'll be there soon," and then he pauses, "stay right where you are."
for a moment you considered telling him that it was absurd, but there was that time last month when he came to pick you up only to find out that you had walked to another bar. "okay, i promise!," you say then before adding a quick, "see you soon," in a sing song voice before hanging up.
it's not long before he is walking into the bar, looking slightly put together and slightly disheveled. there is a giddy squeal that leaves you when you see him, standing to run into his arms. he catches you, having to step back a bit to stabilize himself after having to catch you. "alright," he says gently, "lets get you home, princess."
a handful of minutes later, you don't know exactly how long, you are walking through the front door of the hockey house while saying, "and they are born from cabbages, johnny." you are now onto your second long tangent. the first, of course, being the lore about care bears.
there is a laugh that comes from the living room as a familiar voice says, "what the fuck are you even talking about?"
a scowl takes over your face then as you stumble into the living room. logan takes a grab of your hand, trying to slow you down so that you don't fall upon entry. "cabbage patches kids, obviously, deano," you say in an annoyed tone.
another laugh escapes him, and its joined by the two other boys that were sitting in the living room next to him, "tell us more then," he says with a grin as he moves over so that you can sit next to him.
you all but fall into the couch, and your eyes immediately land on the sandwich on the coffee table in front of you. "for me?," you ask excitedly, turning to tucker with a bright smile.
"definitely for you," he says with a smile. the boys really knew you too well.
"so anyway, the cabbage patch kids, do you know what they are?," you ask, but you shake your hand and hold out your hand to john, "give me your phone, i have to show them." a laugh dances on his lips then as he shakes his head and pulls his phone out of his pocket to give to you.
you then search up the toy and show it to them, "these are the cabbage patch kids," you explain before taking a bite from your sandwich. you are still partially chewing when you continue, "and they are born from cabbages. there is all this lore, but like," you say before swallowing, "you can go to a hospital and see them be born. i was telling johnny how much i wanted to go."
the night goes on for another hour like this. you going on tangents about random, silly things that the boys seem to latch onto and laugh about. when the hour hits, and a yawn escapes you, john smiles before saying, "we should go to bed," hand going to rest under your elbow. "so should all of them, seeing as we have a game tomorrow."
a gasp escapes you, "a game? oh my god, and you are all out here with me?" your face turns to a stern, serious one, "to bed! every single one of you," they look at you with amusement on their faces, "now!"
they laugh then, and john is pulling you up to your feet, "let's start with you and me," he says as he starts to lead you out of the living room. however, you still take a chance to turn around and sternly look at the others, hoping they get the hint.
logan then leads you up the stairs, and as you make it to his room, he settles you onto the bed and looks down at you contently for a moment. when it passes, he moves to the micellar water that he keeps on his dresser and the wash cloth that sits next to it.
in no time, your makeup is off and you are comfortably wearing one of his tshirts as you lay down and allow him to tuck the comforter over you. as soon as he lays next to you, you turn and curl into his side, "night night," you say softly.
"night night," he says in return, tone mocking your own as he leans down and presses a gentle kiss to the top of your forehead.
Can you write a fluffy/flirty Logan x fem!reader one shot where she refers to their hockey game as the “boy aquarium” I just love that people are calling it that 😆
coach jensen was very big against letting girlfriends hang out around practice. it was something that he very quickly established, and you always accepted with ease. especially given that this sport was, in a way, a job to these guys. they practiced 6 days a week plus their games. it was nearly as full time as college, and you understood that there needed to be boundaries.
however, this did not mean you weren't allowed at the rink at all. there were times in which john would find go in for some one on one practice. more often then not it was when a game had gone poorly or he needed to work through something he had going on in his head.
either way, he would always let you know and you always enjoyed stopping in to surprise him. it was a silly little thing that had turned almost into a tradition. that you would stand by the boards and watch as he skated around the rink or practiced taking shots at the goal.
you couldn't say it was the most entertaining thing, but you loved him and wanted to spend as much time as you could with him.
today was one of those days. they had lost their most recent game, which was always something that got to his head. it made sense given that his whole future relied on how he and the team played. however, you often times thought that he got a little too in his head about it. as if he was always just a bit too hard on himself.
you loved him for his drive, but you always wished he would go a little bit easier on himself.
it takes him a moment to realize that you were standing there watching him. a double take before a smile over takes his face and he removes his helmet, making his way over to you in the process. his hair is damp from the sweat, and it seems to be falling all over the place in a way that you find absolutely adorable.
"if it isn't my favorite fish," you say then, hand reaching forward to brush the hair out of his face. the movement slow and deliberate, gently pressing against his skin as you do.
there is confusion that overtakes him then as he asks, "i'm sorry, did you say fish?"
it is with a laugh that you tease, "yes," and then your hand falls to his cheek and settles there for a moment, "my favorite fish in this big whole boy aquarium that you hang out in."
this seems to illicit a laugh from his as well. one that is soft, and floats in the air between you like a perfect melody. the very sound of it makes you close the gap between you for a moment to place a soft, delicate kiss to his lips. as you pull away, body balancing over the board, you stay just close enough to hear him say under his breathe, "boy aquarium" as if it is the most absurd thing he had heard all day.
Could you please write a Logan fic where the reader is someone he had been falling in love with during spring semester and she got an internship is a city far away & as they say “distance makes the heart grow fonder” & he realizes that he loves her so when they reunite during fall semester he has to confess to her finally?? Please
distance makes the heart grow fonder
pairing: john logan x f!reader
word count: 812
author note: i hope this is what u meant bc this was def very cute to write!
the two of you were never nothing, that you are sure. not when you spent the spring by his side, and sneaking glances at him from across the room. yet, you also weren't something. rather, the two of you lay in some in between place. a middle ground that feels difficult to navigate at times, but you find your way. he carves a path in the in between for the both of you. a place where he can hold your hand, and leave sweet kisses upon your lips; but also never have to admit to what it was. never have to label what the two of you should be.
you are content with the in between, and he seems to be as well. you could live within it if meant that he still held your hand as he walked you to class, or wrapped his arm around you, almost possessively, at parties.
the truth was, you knew where your feelings lay. he was the kind of person that you fall for. charming and when he looks at you it's the entire world falls away. everything becomes a blur, and you wonder if he feels the same. if he gets lost in your gaze or if the feeling of your hand on his skin made him feel alive.
he hasn't told you yet, but your smile tugs at his heart in a way that no other girl had.
so when you sit him down and say, "i am going to portland for an internship," the room goes still. your heart plummeting to the pit of your stomach as you watch his face fall. it's a slow sort of crumble. not something that happens immediately, but rather over time as the statement settles into him. "it's only for the summer," you offer a reassuring smile, "but we aren't-- so if you want-- then you can, you know?"
for a moment, you swear there is hurt that flashes over his face. then it evens out a bit, but his eyebrows remain furrowed as he looks at you. the word, "okay?," comes out confused and unsure. as if he wasn't sure what the right answer was. not when you existed in this in between.
"but if you did want," your voice comes out hurried and rushed, "to keep in touch over the summer? you know call and facetime, then i would--- i would like that."
there it is, that smile that you love. it pulls at the edges of his lips and soon enough his teeth are peeking out as well, "yeah," he says as the smile grows, "i would like that."
so that is how your summer went. he called you almost everyday, listening as you told him about portland and your internship. the two of you would talk late into the night, sometimes even falling asleep on the phone. it was weird, because this didn't feel like the in between. it felt like something deeper. as if the two of you had crossed a line that had been drawn in the sand between you.
when your plane ended at the end of summer, there he was in the airport with a big, goofy grin. when you came out of your terminal, you greet him with a big, warm hug. the kind that makes you feel like home. not being back at briar, but being back with him.
when he pulls away, he keeps you close enough that you can breathe in his scent. it's familiar and warm, and it envelopes you just as much as the hug had. "i missed you, gorgeous," he says gently then, before pressing a kiss to your lips.
it's consuming, the kiss. there is a hunger behind it, one that had built up after months of being apart. when he pulls away, there is this desire within you to pull him back. to kiss him again, and possibly never stop. however, when his eyebrows crease to look at you, it causes you to hesitate. causes you to move back just a bit more to fully take him in.
"what is it?," you ask softly, still feeling the warm comfort of being held in his arms.
a laugh escapes him then, one that is soft and light, "it's just i have been waiting months to tell you this," he says with a smile, "and i was going to at dinner but--" he cuts himself off, and somehow his smile grows bigger as he looks at you. then, after a moment of silence, he says gently, "i love you."
the confession takes you aback, and for a moment you are standing there dumbfounded. it isn't long until you are pulling him closer to you again and kissing him once more. this time it is quicker, and more chaste, because you need to be able to mutter back, "i love you, too."
DM’ing you an idea!! Mutual pining with any of the off campus boys but it miiight make most sense with Logan. Reader is hesitant to make a move / express themselves / accept his advances because they’re a private person and don’t want their personal relationship blasted all over the Fifth Line instagram account. Some angst and miscommunication & eventual confession and fluff!!
it isn't that you are not aware of his feelings. rather, you felt entirely too aware of the way he felt. of the way that he smiled when he flirted with you, or how his hand always seemed to linger on your skin for just a moment. small things that had all piled up into this bigger, unavoidable thing that you couldn't escape.
which, really, wouldn't be that much of an issue. not when you could get lost in that small, and the feeling of his skin against you always lit up all your senses. how every nerve ending in your body was activated simply by him being near you.
it wouldn't be that much of an issue, because you liked john logan. you liked him so much that it felt hard to breathe around him. however, liking john logan came with complexities.
there was never a day that went by where he didn't catch the eye of every person in the room. where his life wasn't being plastered on fifth line, and his every moment wasn't being documented. it was overwhelming the way that people seemed to so invested in his life, and it wasn't something that you ever wanted to expose yourself to.
so with each advance that he made, you took a step back. well, correction, you tried to take a step back. there were moments where you slipped. moments where you caught your smile lingering a bit too long, and your body leaning against his at a party. a confusing mix of hot and cold that never seemed to bother him all that much.
at least, you didn't think that it had.
you are sitting cross legged on his bed, book splayed out over your legs. your eyes glaze over as you read the same line for a second time when he comes into the room carrying two glasses of water. he sets them on the side table before taking a seat on bed next to you. it's easy, the way that your head falls forward against his shoulder as you say, "i can't read another word of this."
his eyebrows crease for a moment, and his body seems to go still under you. it takes a moment before his eyebrows crease and he asks, "what are we doing here?"
slowly, you readjust your body so that you are upright and looking at him. your head tilts and there is small, confused smile as you say, "studying?"
that doesn't seem to clear the crease that had formed so aggressively between his brow, nor does it make him smile. rather, he just simply states, "no, i mean what are we doing." the question, or statement rather, hangs between the two of you then. "one minute, i think you like me and the next you don't," he goes on to explain, "i'm confused, and i don't like being confused."
the smile on your face falters then, and you can't help the way that your eyes advert from his for a moment. you pull a hand through your hair then before saying, "i'm sorry, " soft and delicate. his head seems to dip down so that his eyes can meet yours, and the confusion is so loudly pressed upon it. "i do like you," you explain then, "but everything about your life is so public. there is fifth line, and then the puck bunnies tweeting about you, and everything in between..." your voice trails off, but you know that he deserves the whole truth, and so you push through it, "it's really overwhelming."
a soft, gentle laugh seems to escape him then, "you should have just told me that." it was now time for your brows to crease as you look at him. "if you want it to be private, then we can make it private, okay? i'll talk to jules and who ever else i need to so that it's comfortable for you."
a slow, creeping smile grows on your face then, "really?"
another laugh escapes him, and he can't help but dip in to press a soft, gentle kiss upon your lips before saying, "really."
i'm so obsesión with your logan fics could i request a fic where reader is or was a drug addict cause she was going trought hell and logan finds out and he's like super worried cause he doesn't want her to end up like his mom and reader feels so bad cause she doesn't want to be a burden so they have a big fight and stop talking for days but eventually the make up and they spend the rest of the day together, thank youuuu
have you ever stared directly at the sun?
pairing: john logan x f!reader
content warning: drug abuse, alcohol addiction, rehab
word count: 1.7k
author note: i am so sorry these requests have been taking so long.... my life got so hectic & they got pushed to the back burner bc of it /: anyway i hope u like this!
his words float around in your head, and have been for the past three days since you last spoke.
though, perhaps spoke wasn't quite the right way of putting you. for you didn't speak, really. more it was his angered voice lifting up above the sound in your ears, and filling the entire room around you.
he had just been so angry.
you weren't even sure if you knew how it started. especially given that it seemed to come out of nowhere. his anger was so unbridled, and so unlike him. in honesty, logan had never been angry with you before. he had always been gentle and kind, holding you in a way that only ever brought comfort. yet, that night was different. he was different.
the truth was, there was a shift in the moment that he knocked on your door. a heard, steady look had overtaken his face and everything went downhill from there. he started in about the meeting you attended, narcotic anonymous, and how he knew what that meant. then he started in how you never told him.
except, you thought had.
though, in the days after the fight, you replayed the couple of months that spanned over your relationship to realize that you hadn't. it wasn't intentional, but it was the truth.
logan, that night, snapped. it was if he had a hard time believing that you were sober. as if there was already a story made up in his head, and he got lost in it. lost in this idea of how things were, even when you tried to convince him that it wasn't.
then he said it, you're going to kill yourself. it was what your mother said during the intervention. logan didn't have her sadness, rather he replaced it with an anger that you were unfamiliar with. one that was rooted so deeply within him, and it rattled you to the core.
it took an old wound and ripped it wide open.
everything had spiraled after that. your words blended with his, both heavy and laced with emotion. it kept going and going until finally it was undistinguishable who was feeling what, and who's voice belonged to who.
eventually he left, and you're not sure if it was his idea or yours.
that was three days ago, and you haven't spoken to him since. logan had tried, but you had ignored each text and phone call. for that wound that had been torn open inside of you had ruined something in you. it made you feel broken and battered, and like a burden that would be too heavy for him to carry.
that you would be too heave for him to carry.
it was for that reason that you decided it would be easier this way. easier to just cut each other out before either of them get in to deep. for all you could figure now was that if you did get in too deep then you would hurt him in the ways that you had hurt everyone in your life.
after the third phone call of the day, you had decided to turn your phone off and go run the errands that you needed to get done. even as you went about town ticking off task after task, his words and the look on his face still on repeat in your head. no matter what you did, it was all still there.
your errands had come to an end, and you now found yourself back at your apartment with two bags of groceries balancing in your arms. perhaps it is those groceries that make it so you don't see his car in the parking lot, which meant that you didn't know he was there until you were stood facing him on your doorstep.
for a moment the two of you just look at one another mirroring the same broken look across your faces. then logan is reaching out and grabbing the grocery bags out of your arms, and you feel too stunned to stop him. another moment of you looking at him before his voice breaks through, "are you going to let us in?"
realization dawns on you then and you are reaching into your purse and search for your house keys. once in hand, you fumble your way with the lock on your door before opening it and allowing the both of you inside. john makes his way to the kitchen, knowing the layout of your apartment as if he belonged in it.
though, you figure, there was a time that he had.
silence fills the apartment, and it blends with an awkward air that you cant seem to shake. one that feels unfamiliar between the two of you, because you had never been awkward. even when you had first met, you felt into each other with such an ease that it felt nearly natural. as if the two of you were meant to orbit around one another.
"you've been ignoring me," he states then, his words gentler than they were three days ago. his voice reminds you of the way he had always been: soft and gentle. a kind of warmth that only seems to radiate off of him. something that always made you feel like home no matter where you were in the world.
for a moment you keep his gaze, eyes refusing to move from his, but then the intensity becomes too hard to handle. there is a sigh that escapes you when your eyes drift from his and your shake your head, "it's easier this way," you say softly, "then you won't be hurt if-- when-- if--" and you can't seem to get the words out.
a dilemma that you were always stuck on: was it if or when? if you relapse? when it gets bad again? if you end up worse than you were? when you did?
he takes a step closer to you then, "i'm sorry," is all he says. two words that settle into the air, uncomfortable and heavy as they do. he had apologized before for small things, and it always felt easy to accept. however in this moment it felt like something that he didn't need to say. it felt wrong as it felt from his lips, and was a hard pill to swallow.
another step closer, "i'm sorry," he says again, "when i said those things to you, i wasn't thinking about you." this causes a furrow in your own brow, "i was thinking of my mom." this causes your head to snap up and look at him. for a moment there is a silence that falls between you, and the air around you is filled with unease and a heavy sort of anxiety.
"my mom is an alcoholic," he admits with a shrug, "who can't seem to get sober no matter how hard she tries, and that really..." his voice trails off, and this time you are the one who takes a step forward. "that really fucks with me, so when you said that you were in recovery it just hit that nerve and what i said to you is what i should say to her."
as he speaks, you find it easy to begin picking at your nail beds. a nervous habit that had always lived within you. it started when you were young, and you could never shake it. it seemed that when you started things, it was hard to end them.
his sharp exhale breaks through to you, and your hands fall flat by your sides. "so i'm sorry," he says again, "but also you should have told me." then your eyes advert from his again and fall to the ground again, "it sucked to be so blindsided."
an uncomfortable silence passes between the two of you as you let that settle into you. he was right, and you knew that. you knew that you should have told him, and that it wasn't fair for him to find out how he did.
"i know," you say softly then, "and i really didn't realize that i hadn't." the admission feels weak. as if it lacked any sense of conviction or truth, even when you knew that it was true. "it just never came up, and it's kinda a weird thing to bring up out of nowhere," then there is a weak sort of laugh that escapes you, "how do you tell the guy that you really like that you used to be addicted to pills because your life was complete shit?", there is a choked up sound to your voice as the words slip out, "and that the only reason you are clean is because you ruined everyone's lives and your parents had to hold an intervention before sending you to rehab?"
he takes another step closer to you, and then another and another until he is standing in front of you and pulling you into his arms. for a moment your body goes stiff and still against his, unafraid to even breathe against him.
then his arms tighten around you, and you find it easy to melt against him. your arms wrap around him, and you inhale so deeply realizing that you missed him so much that you even missed the way he smelled. how that woody, masculine smell would consume you in some way that felt nearly overwhelming. it was easy, really, to get so lost in it.
"that's how," he says against your hair, holding you close for another moment before pulling away so that he could look at you, "that's how you tell me." his head tilts as he looks at you with a softness in his eyes that completely opposed the look he gave you three nights ago. the one that was hardened and hurt.
this look was one that you knew well. it was the look that made you fall in love with him. the look that you knew you could get so lost in that you would be swimming in his irises.
"do you want to tell me about it?," he asks then, words as quiet as a whisper, "or do you want to put a pin in it, order take out, and watch that stupid reality show you love?"
"love island," you correct with a smile, "and i'd love to do the latter?" then there is a pause before you add, "but i promise that tomorrow, i'll tell you everything."
a moment of silence before he is placing a kiss at the top of your head and saying, "love island it is."
