SEEING LOGAN WORK ON CARS MAKES YOU WANT TO RIDE SOMETHING ELSE...
𓏲⋆ CONTENT ⋮ unprotected p in v, semi-public sex (?), dry humping kinda/grinding, oral (f!receiving) & oral over clothing, reader’s first time on top
Logan’s legs were hanging out from under a car as you made your way into the garage, the dull sound of classic rock coming from his speaker on the other side of the room.
He was humming while he worked and tapping his foot along to the music. It echoed quietly through the room.
“Logan?” you called out softly, watching his figure freeze before sliding out. He was looking up at you with a certain excitement reserved only for when he was with you.
A toothy grin spread across his face, followed by his almost raspy voice, “Hey, baby. What’re you doing here?”
“Jus’ came to say hi. I missed you,” you muttered, too distracted by his flexed muscles to give him a better answer. Your gaze dragged down his body, only meeting his eyes again when you realized he wasn’t responding.
He had a look on his face, no doubt knowing exactly what you were thinking. His voice had a heat to it when he asked, “Is that right?”
You hummed, nibbling on your bottom lip when you see his eyes drag over your body. “Well I missed you too. C’mere,” his fingers motioned for you to come closer.
You found yourself standing over him, legs on either side of his body. His palms rested on your calves, rubbing up and down soothingly. “Sit. Nobody’s coming in.”
“But—Okay.” You immediately felt him under you as you sat, already sporting a semi. He leaned up, one hand coming to hold your face as he smashed his lips against yours in a hungry kiss.
The kiss was all consuming. John Logan was all you could feel, taste, smell—he smelt like his body wash and old, rusted metal.
You moaned against him as his teeth dragged across your bottom lip, lightly nibbling. Your hips rocked against his instinctually, his tented pants nudging your throbbing clit.
Falling forward against him, he deepened the kiss as his fingers slid up your legs tantalizingly slow.
When he pulled back, your denim skirt was already rolling up your hips, your soaked lace panties on display to him. One of his fingers gently brushed up your cunt, applying only enough pressure against your sensitive clit to tease you.
“Logan,” you pouted, your hips twitching forward on their own, seeking more contact. “Please.”
Logan smirked under you, his hands coming to lift you off him. He slid further down on his cart, never taking his hands off you, and lined his face up to your pussy.
You moaned when his warm tongue dragged across you, his lips surrounding your clit as he ate you out through your panties.
After a long moment he lifted you again, pulling the crotch of your panties to the side. His tongue met your bare folds, licking a stripe up slowly until he found your clit again.
As he ate you out, your hands pulled at his hair and his hips instinctively rolled against the zipper of his jeans. Two of his long fingers slid their way inside, pumping in and out of you slowly.
The two completely different paces and feelings was throwing you off, but felt incredible.
“Taste so good, baby,” he groaned against you. “Could do this for hours if you let me.”
You could feel your climax building, your knees weak and your hips twitchy. Logan could feel it too. “C’mon, come for me,” he cooed, his hot breath fanning over your cunt as he talked you through it. “I know you can, mhm. That’s my girl.”
You rode his face as he continued lapping at you, only stopping when you had enough strength to hold yourself up and away from his unrelenting tongue.
“Holy shit, you’re perfect,” he breathed as you sat back on his crotch. “I fucking love you.”
A shy smile graced your face as he leaned up to give you a soft kiss. A thank you kiss. A ‘stop worrying’ kiss because he could see the anxious tension still in your shoulders and he knew you all too well.
Whispering, “I love you, too,” against his lips, your hands reached back to fumble with his button and zipper. When you got them undone, Logan sat you both up enough to take pull his pants and boxers down to his feet.
“Logan,” you hummed while pulling off your panties before they could get completely ruined.
“Yeah, pretty?”
“I’ve never... Uh... Y’know...” you mumbled, confused when you saw Logan’s eyebrows scrunch while a cheeky smirk spread across his face.
“We’ve had sex,” his tone was a mix between a question and a statement. You felt embarrassment run through your entire body as you winced.
“No, I know,” you laughed awkwardly. “I mean, like, I’veneverbeenontopbefore.”
Logan’s face went from confused to confident in seconds.
“That’s alright,” his hands slowly dragged from your knees to your upper thighs, stopping just short of where his mouth was only a minute ago. “I’ll do all the work, yeah? Jus’ don’t wanna get you all dirty in here.”
Mumbled an, “Okay,” you visibly relaxed a bit.
Logan reached down, pumping his thick cock a few times before lining it up to your cunt. “Yeah?”
Nodding, you hummed, “Uh-huh,” and let out a quiet moan as his tip slipped inside. The stretch as he pushed further in was amazing, the different position hitting a completely new angle.
“Fuck, Logan,” you almost screamed as he started thrusting in and out of you. One of his hands—the one not holding you by the hips to guide you—came up to cover your mouth.
“Y’know I love hearing you, baby, but we gotta be quiet,” he strangled out, holding in noises of his own. “Can you do that f’me? Yeah?”
You nodded frantically as you grinded your hips against him, meeting him as he slammed into you. One of your hands was now covering your mouth, letting him use both of his hands to control the pace.
The other hand was against his chest, trying to ground yourself.
Logan could tell you were getting closer, your legs shakier and your hand gripping at his dirty t-shirt. He slid one of his hands down, his fingers finding your clit and rubbing harsh circles.
He heard a barely muffled moan from you, along with feeling your walls squeeze around him. He almost came right there but he held out, wanting to bring you to your second orgasm before he got his. “Feel good?”
“Uh-huh,” you rocked against him, hips twitching and your brain feeling like mush. “So good, Logan. I’m gonna—I’m close.”
His thrusts were unrelenting as he breathed, “I know, I know. Come for me, baby.” His words sent you over the edge for the second time, even harsher than the first.
He worked you through it, his own orgasm barely even fazing him he was so focused on you. Only feeling how sensitive his dick was when your pussy gripped the shit out of him. “Fuck.”
His entire body relaxed, laying flat on the cart.
You leaned down, pressing a sweet kiss to his lips. His brain not even needing to catch up, his body kissing you back on it’s own.
It was short, both of you still struggling to catch your breaths.
You could feel him inside you, along with his hot seed, twitching but not really softening. Testing the waters, you gently ground your hips backwards.
A strangled noise came from his throat, his hands on you in seconds. His eyes were squeezed shut as he grumbled, “Baby. Don’t start.”
“You’re not done,” you whined, moving your hips again.
You gasped when Logan started standing up, still holding you to where he didn’t have to pull out. In a mirror across the room, you could see Logan’s arm muscles flexing.
He felt you squeeze around him again.
Pressing you against the wall, his lips dragged wet kisses down your neck, his hips slowly starting to move again. Your hand was in his hair, gripping his brown strands as he fucked you against the wall with more and more force.
The noises were falling out of both of you uncontrollably, the need for each other outweighing logic. Nothing about it was quiet or discreet, but Logan couldn’t find it in him to care anymore. He needed you right then and there.
And with the way he fucked you? There was no way you would want to stop him.
masterlist
note ᥫ᭡.ִֶָ𓂃 my first real logan fic woooo🥳 it might be a little ooc IDK but it’s fine i think i like it. i’m currently working on some requests and a few other ideas i had but i’ve been a little busy irl so they may be a bit more spread out but trust i won’t forget anyone’s requests!!
summary: logan keeps cancelling on your date nights, you get tired of missing him. 2k words.
warnings: smut! mdni! oral male receiving, piv. protected sex!
John Logan is nothing if not a man with enough drive to accomplish both his most relevant passions — playing hockey and being with you, though you think he’s been seriously lacking on the latter issue lately.
“Let me guess,” you say as soon as you pick up the phone, his pretty face on the screen through a FaceTime call, “You’re not making it tonight. Again.”
Logan’s lips twist into a guilty smirk, “I’m really sorry, honey. Birdie asked to reschedule our training for tonight.”
It’s the third time Logan cancels on you for training ever since the Briar U Hawks lost two games in a row earlier this month, when he started dedicating all his free time into extra practices, hitting the gym and refining his moves. You’re understanding, of course you are, you know how much of Logan’s entire future (and yours, by association) depends on him catching the eye of professional hockey teams and how he’s been going after his dream for years with your full support. But when your only time seeing your boyfriend is reduced to aftergame’s reunions with all his teammates and pizza on their couch after training, your restraint starts growing thin. Right now, it’s really just a sliver, already midway through cracking.
In other words, you’re climbing up the walls, feeling so very needy.
You roll your eyes, “Logan, you said we were going out tonight,” you protest in your sweetest voice, “That little restaurant right outside of Briar, remember? We would have all night to ourselves…”
“I know, I know.” He shakes his head, running a nervous hand through his hair, “I’ll make it up to you, yeah?”
You sigh, “Yeah, okay. Text me later?”
“You know I will,” he says, a tiny wink thrown at you before he says his goodbyes and hangs up the phone.
Dropping back into bed with a huff, you close your eyes remembering your excitement for tonight. Some alone time with Logan, a warm-toned Italian place with a glass of wine and all the night that’d follow once you got him all to yourself, a turmoil building in your underbelly thinking of how your date night could’ve went if it wasn’t—
“You know what, fuck that” you say to yourself, urging your own legs into moving out of bed. You’re not staying the night letting your needs simmering under your skin because of some fucking practice he doesn’t even need.
If Logan won’t come to you, you will make him.
You knock erratically on the front door, hoping you’re not too late.
“Hey,” Garrett appears behind it, the familiar sound of Summer Nights coming from the TV inside immediately giving away that you’re interrupting something, “Logan’s not home yet.”
“I know,” you smile widely, “I’m on a mission.”
He stares for a second, waiting for you to explain what you actually mean, then ultimately deciding he maybe doesn’t need to hear it, “Alright,” he moves away, giving you the space to walk into the house, “Come in.”
“Thanks,” you bump his shoulder, skipping over to Hannah sitting on the couch, pressing a quick kiss on her cheek, “Hi babe, can’t talk– Things to do.”
“Go, you,” she says, not moving in the slightest but to blow a kiss in your direction as you go up the stairs.
Logan’s room is far from perfectly tidy, but you recognise it as an organized mess, with piles of clothes on top of the bed and all his mispaired socks and sneakers in a corner. You look at the clock on his bedside table, a red 8:43 blinking at you. Birdie still has some senses and would want to be home before 9 p.m., so he can’t be that far now. You gotta get moving.
You start with the clothes, going through them until you find his red and blue hockey jersey, dropping it aside as you move the pile into the nearest chair. Then you focus on getting the right lighting, turning on his lamp and closing all the windows’ curtains, leaving only a soft glow being cast over the room. Sexy, you think.
Now, with the bed all to yourself and the perfect atmosphere, you strip.
Logan feels like he just got run over by a flock of hockey players. He’s exhausted, and all he wants is to take a warm shower and lay on his bed, to call you so he can hear your voice before he falls asleep. Fuck, he misses you.
He knows he’s been lacking, genuinely, and a little side note lies on the back of his mind, urging him to make really nice dinner plans soon. Because it’s not like he doesn’t care, it’s just the way he operates, overthinking his future and overworking on it until it burns him out, happening more frequently than he’d like to admit and yet, every single time, there you are to offer him some care.
As he opens the door to find you on his bed, he wonders if he’s burning more quickly than usual, already hallucinating your showing.
“Hey,” you say, a hint of sultry hiding behind a mischievous smile.
“How—” He starts saying, voice getting cut off as his eyes wonder over what’s in front of him. You and your bare legs, his hockey jersey barely covering your thighs as your upper body rests on his pillows, a dream come true, “What—”
“You can just say hi back, you know?”
“Hi,” he breathes out, “I wasn’t expecting to find you here.”
“I know,” you move, lifting up as your legs go under you, knees on the bed, “I just really missed you.”
Logan approaches the bed, his face slightly apologetic, “I missed you too, honey, I’m sorry—”
“You don’t need to apologize,” you raise your hands to reach out to him, hands gripping on the hem of his shirt and pulling him closer. “You’re working so hard lately.”
“Still, I shouldn’t—”
“Logan,” you cut him off, your fingers lazily moving under his shirt as you smile up at him, “I know.”
He drops his bag, hand reaching to touch your face, his thumb moving over your cheek, “You can be mad, honey. You should be mad.”
You keep your stare on his face as your nails start scratching his high hip, giggling when you see his shoulders visibly shaking as a shiver goes up his spine.
“I’m not mad,” you say, lifting up his shirt. Slowly, you move a bit closer, pressing a kiss against Logan’s skin, right on top of a newfound bruise, “Your muscles must feel so sore right now.”
He nods, a sight coming out of his mouth, “A– A little, yeah.”
You press another kiss over his stomach, and another on his hipbone, “Take your shirt off?”
He doesn’t need you to ask again, hands flying to pull his shirt up making you smile at his disposition. Instead, you press your smiling face onto his side, kissing him all the way up to his chest.
“Let me take your mind off of all this, yeah?,” you say, lips hovering over his ear, “Would you like me to?”
He wants to scream God, fucking yes, please. All he needs is to take his mind off of it. Some grounding, some deep breaths and something, anything coming from you. Logan lulls his head back, “Yeah– Yeah, I’d like that.”
You smirk against his neck, hands travelling down until you reach his belt, undoing it. Your fingers sneak into his pants, palming him over his boxers,
“Happy to see me, yeah?”
He chuckles, a low laugh strangled by another sigh, “You’re mean.”
“Am I?”
“No,” he turns his head to you, his hands in your face as he pulls you closer, “No, not at all. Want me to lay in bed?”
You shake your head, “Hm-hm. Want you standing right there in front of me.”
Logan’s skin is warm, and the usual strong scent of his cologne is just barely there after hours of training. Still, you can taste it as you lick down his neck, your kisses down his sternum encouraged by his soft moans.
You hook your pointer finger on the waistband, “This okay?” He nods and you pull it down, his cock springing out of his boxers. You wrap your hand around the base, a slow stroke towards the head.
“Fuck,” he moans, “Fuck, baby.”
Your thumb travels over his shaft and Logan gasps, his hand moving to your shoulder for support. You smirk, enjoying watching his undoing. You stroke it a couple times more, and with a lick of your lips you press a quick kiss to the head, then another, and another until your tongue licks a strip from his base until the very top, mouthing it.
Logan grunts, his hand moving up from your shoulder to the back of your head, gently pushing you down. You let him guide the rhythm, you’re not in a rush nor trying to torture him, you just wanna make him feel good, watching his lips parted open and knees buckling.
“You’re so good, honey,” he says, “Such a perfect mouth, fuck.”
You pull away once you feel his grip tightening, pressing a kiss on the inside of his thigh. Instead of saying anything, you simply move from your knees to laying down onto his bed and a little head nod urging him to join you.
Logan crawls up to you, his hands finding your waist and lifting up the jersey you’re wearing. He kisses your stomach, lips following his hands travelling up until you’re just as bare as him.
“You’re fucking perfect,” he mouths in between kisses all throughout your upper body, nibbling on your breasts.
You lock his legs behind his back, stopping him from moving away from you, “John, baby,” you mutter against his skin, “Want you inside.”
He groans against your skin, “Box’s in the top drawer.”
You stretch your arm, grabbing a condom from the box and handing it to him. Then, disintangling your legs, you watch him as he puts it on and strokes it one, two times. Logan’s hands go to your knees, pushing them open,
“Okay?”
“Yeah, please,” you urge him, legs bending up as he grabs your thighs and pulls you closer. Gently, he positions himself right over your entrance and nudges in. He moves agonizingly slowly, and you whimper for him to fill you.
“Shhhh, babe,” he coos, moving his body down chest to chest, his arms supporting him on each side of your body, “Let me be gentle. I’ll fuck you so nicely.”
You lift up your hip, grinding against his body as he pushes and chasing a warmness growing on your underbelly. Logan’s face hides in your neck whispering, “I fucking love you,” he keeps repeating, “You’re so good, baby. Fuck, I’m so close.”
His hand leaves your side to travel down your body, two fingers in your clit as he keeps pounding into you, faster and faster every time you buckle up in moans.
“Hmph, Logan…” you mumble, lips chasing him, “Oh, I’m gonna—”
“Come, sweetheart,” he kisses you, again and again, “Come for me, baby. You did so good, I wanna make you feel good. Come, please,” he says as his fingertips move faster, his hips slowing down in his thrusts. You groan, throwing your head back as you let it out completely, body shaking with added pleasure as you feel Logan’s grip on your skin when he comes too.
“Oh, my god,” he murmurs through deep breaths, “Baby.”
You let out a giggle on your comedown, your hands finding his cheeks pulling him in for a number of kisses, one, two, three, a hundred pecks over his lips and nose.
“I missed you,” Logan says in between them, “I really did. I’m never canceling on you again, okay? Goddamn, I’m never stepping foot on the ice again.”
You laugh, shaking your head, “Don’t be ridiculous. Maybe just leave a day or two for date nights over the week?”
“Yeah, fuck—” He nods, “Abso-fucking-lutely.”
“And maybe keep your promises when you ask me to dinner,” you gently pinch his nose, “No more sugar talking.”
Logan smiles at you, then moves to give you a deep, passionate kiss, then a second one on the corner of your mouth, “You’re sweet enough, anyway.”
notes: likes, reblogs and thoughts are appreciated (and please nice to me! i'm a bit stiff with writing smut but really wanted to try this one out). thank you for reading!
Summary: She's been in love with her best friend for longer than she'd like to admit. He's been hung up on someone he can't have. One Halloween party later — everything falls apart in the best and worst way possible.
Some lines were never meant to be crossed.
Warnings: Alcohol consumption, mutual pining, angst with no immediate resolution, best friends to lovers, and a staircase scene that will genuinely mess you up.
a/n: Hey guys!! I really hope you enjoy this 🤍 I wrote this originally in Spanish and honestly it just hits different in Spanish, but I hope the English version does it justice anyway.
Also John Logan lives in my head rent free and has for a very long time. He is one of my obsessions and I will be taking request!
part two.
"You know I'm such a fool for you..."
( Oh sure, because nothing screams self-respect like still being hung up on someone who looks at you like a mistake he already regrets by morning)
I hated parties.
I always thought of them as dreadful, dark, and horrible… College parties.
Well, actually, the problem wasn’t the party itself. The problem had brown eyes, had a smile —fuck, it made your panties slide off like butter— and was labeled as my best friend, which made him a problem on most days of the year.
John Logan was, with complete objectivity, the worst thing that had happened to me since Janis —my little and beloved 2009 Civic, named that way for the pure chaotic energy of her personality— decided that a pole was her archenemy and crashed into it at twelve kilometers per hour.
It had been an ordinary Tuesday afternoon. I was coming from my shift at my mom’s café with cinnamon flour still on my cheeks and a carton of whole milk in the passenger seat, and suddenly, bam. Janis against the world, the world winning as always.
And then he appeared.
I don’t really know how it happened. I guess he was parked on the same block, or walking by, or emerging dramatically out of nowhere like he usually did. The only thing I remember is that a very tall guy in a hockey team hoodie planted himself in front of Janis, crouched down to inspect the damage, and said, with a voice that sounded like honey spilled over hot asphalt:
“Hey, that’s fixable. Do you know anyone at Mike’s ?” He looked at me quite attentively, his brown eyes scanning me up and down a second longer than necessary. I felt my cheeks burn. I didn’t know if it was Janis that was slightly steaming from the radiator or if it was me who was about to melt right there.
“No,” I murmured.
“I do.” He took out his phone as if he already knew he was going to solve the problem. “What’s the model?”
“What?”
“The car.” —“The car,” he repeated, pointing at Janis with his chin.
I blinked, feeling completely out of place.
“Janis. It’s a 2009 Civic.”
He looked up from the phone he had just taken out and stared at me for a long second, as if he were evaluating whether I was very weird or the kind of weird he found entertaining. Then he let out a soft, genuine laugh, shaking his head.
“Janis,” he repeated, savoring the name. “Well chosen.”
His smile tilted only on one side, but it was enough. A direct hit to my cardiovascular system. Something in that arrogant and amused expression made my stomach do a dangerous flip.
That’s how it all started. That stupid, that insignificant, that definitive.
It had been his idea to dress up as Snoopy and Charlie Brown.
Mine, I mean. My idea. Which, in retrospect, should have given me a clue of how completely gone I was, because who voluntarily suggests spending Halloween stuffed into a black and white dog costume when I could have been, I don’t know, a sexy witch like any mentally stable person?
Me, apparently.
And now I was standing on the threshold of a Halloween party in a Snoopy costume that made me look like a white sausage with ears. Logan had gotten lost in the crowd a while ago; right now he was on the other side of the room. There he was, leaning against the back wall in his yellow zigzag shirt that should have made him look ridiculous but somehow made him look like the most attractive guy in the room.
“Snoopy, what the fuck?” Dean appeared beside me with his typical shit-eating grin, dressed as something that looked like a sexy demon, quite sexy. “Was that your idea or did Logan force you? Because if it was your idea, I need to know how drunk you were when you had it.”
“It was my idea,” I admitted, falling under the Di Laurentis effect.
Dean burst out laughing.
“Poor Logan… having to put up with a best friend with such bad taste in costumes.” He winked at me. “Though the snout looks good on you.”
“Go to hell, Dean.”
“With pleasure, but first I’m going to find someone who wants to sin tonight.” He patted me on the head as if I were a real dog and disappeared into the crowd. Tucker followed behind him, shaking his head.
“Hey, Snoopy.” Tucker leaned against me with a beer in each hand, looking me up and down with a little smirk that meant he was about to say something awful. “Great costume, wrong place.”
“Thanks, Tucker. What would I do without your insightful observation.”
“I’m just saying that if you’re trying to get someone to see you as something more than the best friend, going dressed as a pet might not be the best strategy—”
“Can I?” I interrupted him, taking one of the cold beers from his hand without waiting for an answer.
“That was Logan’s,” Tucker replied, raising an eyebrow.
“Yeah.” I took a long, deep swig, feeling the icy liquid go down my throat. “Perfect.”
Tucker watched me in silence for a few seconds, with that look of his between worried and resigned that he had been perfecting for months. That look that said “I know you’re about to do something stupid and I don’t know how to stop it.”
It had all started one night of absolute weakness, after seeing Logan flirting with a girl at the café. In a drunken attack of honesty, I confessed to Tucker that I was in love with his best friend. To Tucker. Of all the people in the world, I told one of John’s best friends that I was dying for him. I still regretted it every time I remembered.
The Hannah Wells thing was the reason Logan needed this party.
He never mentioned it to me, of course. Logan didn’t say things like that; he already felt like shit for liking his best friend’s girl. And he carried it all in silence, as if admitting it out loud made it more real. What he said was: “I need to get drunk and forget about everything for a few hours,” which translated from Logan language meant exactly the same.
Hannah Wells.
Garrett’s girlfriend.
She was pretty, smart, and had a quiet sweetness that made Logan look like a lost puppy every time she was around. I couldn’t hate her. Hannah wasn’t to blame for anything. The problem was him, who had fallen in love with the wrong girl without being able to help it, and now he punished himself for feeling something he never planned to act on.
He told me while I was decorating pumpkin cupcakes. His voice came out low, almost defeated.
“She loves Garrett, I’m really very happy for my friend but… I’m still here, feeling like a son of a bitch for not being able to get her out of my head.”
I continued spreading the frosting in perfect circles, swallowing the bitter knot that had formed in my throat. And I thought, with a shame that burned me alive: maybe if I were enough… maybe if he looked at me that way.
God. What a disgusting thought. What a disgusting me.
“Are you okay?” Tucker asked, pulling me out of my thoughts. His voice sounded softer than usual, as if he already knew the answer.
“I’m fantastic,” I answered automatically, with a smile so forced my cheeks hurt.
Tucker looked at me a second longer than necessary and let out a sigh.
“You lie terribly.”
“Tucker.”
“What?”
“Shut up.”
I said it without force, almost in a murmur. I didn’t have the energy to argue. He just shook his head, leaning his shoulder against the wall next to me, watching me as if he feared I was going to break at any moment.
“You don’t have to do this, you know?” he murmured after a while, giving me a comforting pat on the arm before leaving.
The problem with getting drunk at a Halloween party while trying to forget your crush is that it requires an alcohol consumption that no sensible liver would approve. And the additional problem with doing that next to your best friend who is secretly in love with you is that it generates a level of built-up tension that no sensible nervous system would approve either.
We were somewhere in the second hour when the situation got complicated.
Not suddenly. It’s never sudden. It’s gradual, like the temperature of the water when you raise it little by little: you don’t realize you’re boiling until it’s too late to jump.
“Hey,” Logan said, leaning his shoulder against the wall next to me. His glass was almost empty and his cheeks had that typical red. “Are you okay?”
“Perfectly,” I answered, and took a long sip of my drink. It was too sweet, it had too much alcohol… and it was too good.
Logan studied me for a second. His hair was slightly messy, his face sweaty from the heat of the party, and yet —and yet, which was the central problem of my existence— he was still the most ridiculously handsome guy in the room.
It was a cosmic injustice.
“You don’t look perfectly,” he said.
“And you look very interested in my emotional state for someone who’s been avoiding looking toward where Garrett is for two hours.”
Shit. Silence.
Too direct. I knew it the moment I said it, but alcohol has this horrible thing of removing my filter and well, it wasn’t like I was doing great either.
Very bad idea coming. I shouldn’t have come.
Idiot. Idiot. Idiot.
“God…” I murmured, closing my eyes for a second. “That was wrong. I shouldn’t have said it like that. I’m sorry,” I added quickly, feeling the annoyance with myself rising in my chest. “It wasn’t for me to throw it in your face. You told me in confidence and I…”
“No,” he cut me off softly, running a hand over the back of his neck. “You’re right.”
We both stood looking at the same wall in front in an uncomfortable silence. On the other side, two girls dressed as cats were arguing about something the music wouldn’t let us hear. The plastic spiderwebs on the ceiling had started to come loose and hung crooked, just as pathetic as I was in that moment.
“You know what I need?” he said, cutting the tension, and turned with that crooked smile that always disarmed me.
“More alcohol?” I answered, half joking.
“To dance.”
I looked at him, surprised. I had barely opened my mouth to respond when a guy walked past us with a tray full of shots. Logan didn’t think twice: he reached out, grabbed two glasses and handed me one without saying anything.
“Cheers,” he said, and downed it in one gulp.
I hesitated for half a second, but the alcohol had already won the battle. I drank it in one go too. The liquid burned my throat and warmed my chest instantly.
Without waiting for a response, Logan closed his fingers firmly around mine. His hand was warm, a little rough, and that simple contact accelerated my pulse more than the shot I had just taken.
“Come on, we’re the most ridiculous duo at this party.” He extended his hand. “Perfectly matched.” he murmured, and pulled me toward the center of the room without giving me a chance to protest.
It was a mistake.
Let me say it clearly: it was a big mistake, and I should have seen it coming from the first note of the song. Because the universe, that son of a bitch, has an absolutely incredible sense of humor and decided to play Don’t Stop the Music right at that moment.
We were already quite drunk. The shot we had taken in one gulp had hit us fast, and the heat of the party made everything feel more intense, closer, more dangerous.
Logan pulled me to the center of the makeshift dance floor and started moving with me. At first it was something clumsy and fun, laughing at how badly we danced. But when the chorus came and Rihanna sang that part…
Your hands around my waist…
oh shiiiiit.
He didn’t think about it. Or maybe he did. His hands slid down naturally and closed around my fluffy waist, pulling me toward him until our bodies were pressed together. The contact was electric. His fingers pressed gently against the fabric of my costume, firm, hot.
I looked up and found him staring at me. There was no laughter in his eyes anymore. Just that drunk intensity that makes everything blurry and too sharp at the same time.
Without realizing it, my hands went up to his chest, feeling how it moved under the shirt. We swayed together, slow and sensual, as if the music were giving us permission to cross a line we had never crossed. His breath brushed my temple. My hips responded against his almost by instinct, following the rhythm and the heat growing between us.
This is wrong, I thought, even though my body said the complete opposite.
It’s Logan.
But in that moment, with his hands around my waist and his body pressed against mine, none of those reasons seemed to matter.
“Hey,” Logan murmured, his voice hoarse and low, almost lost in the music.
“Hi,” I replied.
Completely useless as a response.
Perfectly honest as a response.
And then he kissed me.
It wasn’t a soft or sweet kiss. It was hot, desperate, as if he had been holding it in for years and the alcohol had broken all the barriers. His hands moved from my waist to my back, pulling me hard against his body while his mouth claimed mine. He tasted like alcohol and something sweeter, more dangerous. His lips were demanding, almost aggressive, and I responded with the same intensity, tangling my fingers in his messy hair.
The world disappeared. There was only the heat of his mouth, the way his tongue brushed mine, the low moan that escaped his throat and vibrated against my lips. We kissed as if we were drowning and the other was the air. His hands moved a little lower, pressing me against him, and I melted into that kiss, completely forgetting that this was a line we shouldn’t cross.
He pulled away for barely a second, just the time for a ragged breath. His forehead stayed pressed against mine, eyes closed, and he murmured something that sounded like my name halfway, like a question he didn’t dare finish.
I responded by standing on my tiptoes and kissing him again, harder.
Logan let out a low sound, almost a growl, and pulled me against his body with more force. His lips became slower, more deliberate, as if now he wanted to learn every detail of my mouth. As if he had all the time in the world to do it.
I don’t even know how we got to his room.
I remember laughter in the hallway, his clumsy hands searching for the keys while I laughed against his neck, and then the door slamming shut behind us. The world was still spinning a bit, but it didn’t matter anymore. Only we mattered.
Logan gently pushed me against the door as soon as we entered, kissing me again with that drunk desperation that had consumed us on the dance floor. Our mouths crashed between laughter and ragged breaths. We kissed badly, with teeth, with tongue, with desire. Every time one laughed, the other silenced them with a deeper kiss.
“Turn around,” he murmured against my lips, his voice hoarse and amused.
I obeyed between laughs, still with the Snoopy ears crooked on my head. I turned, placing my hands against the door. I felt his clumsy fingers struggling with the zipper and buttons of my costume. He was too drunk. We both were.
“Shit… how the fuck does this open?” he growled, frustrated, while pulling without success.
I laughed, resting my forehead against the cold wood.
“Logan, you’re a mess…”
“Shut up,” he said, laughing too, and gave another harder tug.
A clear and satisfying riiiiiip was heard. The costume tore down the back from the shoulder almost to the waist. The cold air hit my exposed skin and I let out a surprised laugh.
“Logan!”
“Oops,” he murmured, not sounding sorry at all.
Instead of apologizing, he leaned in and started kissing my bare back, moving down my spine with hot, wet kisses. His big hands slipped through the opening he had just created, circling my waist and moving up my ribs. His mouth returned to my neck, biting gently while I sighed and arched against him.
“I’ll buy you another one,” he whispered against my skin, his voice thick. “Tomorrow… or next week… I don’t know.”
I turned in his arms, still laughing, and kissed him with the same urgency. My hands pulled at his shirt while he kept touching me as if he couldn’t believe this was happening. The torn costume hung ridiculously from my body, but neither of us had the coordination or desire to take it off properly.
Logan pulled away just enough to look at me. His eyes were dark, glassy from alcohol and desire. Without saying anything else, he slowly knelt in front of me, his hands sliding down my hips, dragging what was left of the costume to the floor.
He looked at me from below for a second, with that expression of pure desperation, as if he had been waiting for this all night… or all his life. His hands trembled slightly when he opened my legs.
“John…” I whispered, not knowing if it was a warning or a plea.
He didn’t respond with words. He just let out a low moan and buried his face between my thighs, kissing me with the same desperate urgency he had had in my mouth seconds before.
The next morning, the sun was a crime against humanity.
I woke up with my eyes still closed, on that threshold of consciousness where you know exactly where you are but still have the fraction of a second to pretend you don’t. The sheets were thick cotton. The smell was different: wood, something that was only from this room, him.
I reached out my hand. Cold.
The side of the bed where he should have been was cold.
I opened my eyes.
Logan’s room, which I knew from being here at his desk helping him review papers, from being here on his floor watching hockey games, felt completely different with the morning light coming through the blinds. The Snoopy costume was on the floor, perfectly ironic in its abandonment. My shoes by the door, very neat for the result of something so messy.
I sat up slowly.
There were no immediate noises. Just the party that still echoed downstairs, muted, the sound of people who hadn’t left yet or had decided to sleep where they fell.
I dressed in one of his hoodies. I tied up my hair as best I could. I grabbed my shoes, the Snoopy costume folded under my arm because it was the only thing I had to carry, and opened the door.
I told myself: go out, go down the stairs, open the front door, leave.
Simple. Executable. One foot after the other.
I reached the landing of the stairs.
And then I heard Logan’s voice.
It came from the kitchen. Clear under the muted murmur of the party, with that tone of someone speaking in a low voice but too agitated to control it completely.
I should have kept going down.
I know.
I knew it then too, on the landing, with my hand on the railing and my feet on the first step. I should have gone down the sixteen steps that separated Logan’s bedroom from the ground floor, crossed without looking and gone out into the November morning without hearing anything else.
But I heard my name.
And I froze.
“I don’t know what the fuck happened, Tucker.” Logan’s voice, tense, low. “I woke up and… God. I fucked up. I fucked everything up.”
A pause. Tucker responding something I couldn’t hear.
“Yes. I know I was drunk, but that doesn’t…” A dull sound, as if he had leaned something against the counter. “If she comes down, tell her I went for a run or something. That I won’t be here. I need her to… I need her to leave before I have to—”
I didn’t hear the rest.
Not because it stopped. But because something in my chest made a noise that wasn’t literally audible but should have been. Like something giving way in an orderly manner: one line first, then another, then another, like the structure of something that had been held up for too long with too little.
I need her to leave.
I fucked everything up.
Sixteen steps. I counted them one by one because it was the only thing I could make my brain focus on without slipping toward the rest. Tucker was with his back to me when I reached the kitchen, and he turned when he heard me. His face said an entire paragraph: the beginning of an apology, something he wanted to tell me and didn’t know how to start.
I didn’t let him.
I went down the last steps, crossed the house without looking at Tucker and walked out the front door.
“Hey,” Logan called behind me.
I stopped.
“Wait,” he said, approaching. “Please.”
I turned around.
“You don’t have to say anything,” I said. “We were drunk, I was drunk, something happened that neither of us planned and we both know it.”
Logan stayed silent. And that silence hurt me more than any words.
“I’m in love with you,” I blurted out suddenly. The words came out without permission, but I couldn’t stop them anymore. “I’ve been in love with you for a long time. And I know this is the worst possible moment to tell you, I’m really sorry if it sounds weird to you,” I kept my voice steady out of pure stubbornness. “But I needed you to know.”
I saw how his eyes widened, confused, almost scared. He opened his mouth. Closed it. “What? Well, I… I… I can’t.”
I felt my face burning, but I continued:
“I’m not asking you to feel the same. I just… needed you to know. Because after last night I can’t go back and you have no idea,” I started.
“Don’t do that.”
“…of what your friendship means to me,” I said anyway. “I’m sorry for misinterpreting things. I’m very grateful to have met you. But I can’t do this.”
The November cold got into my bones. I felt everything we had built falling apart in front of me and I had just accelerated it.
Logan ran a hand through his hair, visibly lost.
“I… I can’t,” he murmured. “I don’t know what to tell you. I can’t give you what you want.”
You can’t. Of course you can’t.
I nodded, swallowing the knot in my throat.
“I understand,” I said quietly. “Don’t worry. I’m not going to force you into anything. It’s just… I can’t lose you, Logan. But I also can’t keep destroying myself pretending I’m fine.”
I turned around and started walking.
“Wait,” he called, following me. “Please, just a second.”
“No,” I answered without stopping. “Don’t ask me to stay so you can give me explanations you don’t feel. I don’t need your pity.”
I left him there, in the middle of the sidewalk, with my heart in pieces and the feeling that I had just lost my best friend and the boy I loved in a single morning.
.
.
.
The Cranberries · Stars: The Best Of The Cranberries 1992-2002 · Song · 2002
Author's Note: Drunk confession meets karaoke night. For more of my writing, check out my Masterlist here.
Triggers: Alcohol
It was karaoke night at Malone's, and the place was packed.
So far, Allie, Tucker, and Hannah had all taken the stage. Dean and Beau were standing near the DJ booth, passionately debating which song would make for the most iconic—and, according to Dean, "life-changing"—performance of the night. I was perfectly content waiting at the bar for our next round of drinks.
It was one of those rare, beautiful nights where everyone—even Garrett—looked completely relaxed. No exams. No hockey. No stress. Just a group of friends laughing too loudly, singing too confidently, and pretending they weren't about to embarrass themselves.
As I made my way back to our booth, my eyes landed on Logan.
He was laughing at something Tucker had said, his head tipped back just enough for that crooked grin to appear. I loved that smile. It was genuine, unguarded—the kind he only wore around people he trusted.
That was only one of the countless little things I'd noticed about John Logan.
Somewhere along the way, I'd made the mistake of falling for him.
How could I not?
He was quieter than most of the guys on the team, more guarded, but beneath that was someone thoughtful, endlessly sarcastic, fiercely loyal, and the kind of person who always showed up when the people he cared about needed him. Growing up without much had made him appreciate the little things, and somehow that only made him more charming.
Unfortunately, he was still hung up on Hannah.
Even though she was officially dating Garrett.
I loved Hannah. She was one of my best friends, and I'd never hold it against her.
Still... sometimes it was hard not to be jealous.
She drew people in without even trying. Garrett had fallen in love with her. Logan couldn't seem to let her go. Justin had wanted her. Apparently she'd even kissed Dean once.
Meanwhile, I couldn't even get the guy I liked to look at me the way he looked at her.
The drinks kept coming.
I'd stopped counting somewhere after my third rum and Coke. It wasn't enough to make the room spin, just enough to soften the edges of the jealousy that had settled in my chest every time I caught Logan laughing with Hannah.
Allie slid into the booth beside me.
"You okay?"
"I'm fantastic."
She raised an eyebrow.
"That's your lying voice."
I sighed dramatically and let my head fall onto her shoulder.
"I have terrible taste in men."
"Oh no." She laughed. "Who is it?"
I groaned.
"Promise you won't say anything."
"My lips are sealed."
"...Logan."
She blinked.
"John Logan?"
"There aren't that many Logans here."
"When did that happen?"
"I don't know." I frowned into my drink. "He smiles, and suddenly my brain forgets how to function."
Allie laughed.
"Oh, honey."
"It doesn't matter anyway."
"Why?"
"Because he's in love with Hannah."
She started to protest, but I cut her off.
"No, it's fine. Really." I shrugged with exaggerated confidence. "I'm just going to...ignore my feelings forever."
"Healthy."
"I know."
Dean wandered over carrying another pitcher.
"What are we talking about?"
"Nothing," Allie said quickly.
"Girl talk?"
"No."
"So definitely girl talk."
While they argued, I quietly wandered toward the DJ booth.
Neither Dean nor Allie noticed.
Neither did Logan.
I scribbled my name onto the karaoke signup sheet before anyone could stop me.
A few songs later...
"And next up..."
The DJ glanced at the card.
"...we've got—"
My name.
Dean's head whipped around.
"...What?"
Allie's eyes went wide.
"You signed up?"
Dean pointed accusingly.
"You're drunk."
"I'm tipsy at most," I lied
He pinched the bridge of his nose.
"Oh, this is going to end terribly."
The opening guitar of "we never dated" by sombr drifted through the speakers.
Across the room, Logan frowned.
"Did she...?"
Garrett laughed
"Apparently…"
Then I started singing.
It wasn’t bad singing, not drunken slurs, no shouting. I was actually good. The conversations around the bar slowly died away.
Dean lowered his beer halfway to his mouth.
"...Holy shit."
Allie just smiled.
“Yep.”
I wasn't performing. I wasn't trying to impress anyone. looked...heartbroken.
Then I found his eyes.
Just for the chorus.
How come we never even dated
But I still find myself thinkin' of you daily?
Why do you always leave me achin'
When you were never mine for the takin'?
Logan couldn't take his eyes off me.
Something in his expression changed.
Confusion? Recognition?
It was like he was hearing the words for the first time. Or maybe I was overthinking it again. I force myself to look away.
The applause erupted before the music had even fully ended.
Dean was the first one on stage.
"Okay, superstar."
He gently took the microphone away.
"Before you decide you're Beyoncé."
"I am Beyoncé."
"Sure you are."
Allie slipped an arm around my other side.
"Let's get you some water."
"I don't want water."
"We know."
As Dean and Allie disappeared toward the bathrooms with her...
Garrett stayed behind.
He looked at Logan.
"You've been staring at her all night."
Logan blinked.
"I have not."
"You really have."
"..."
Garrett sighed.
"You know she likes you, right?"
Logan froze.
“No shot a girl like that wants anything to do with a guy like me.”
“I’m going to pretend you didn’t say that.”
"What? Why?"
“What is that even supposed to mean Logan? You’re a great guy…”
“She’s probably just being nice and you’re reading too much into it because Hannah’s making you soft.”
“I’m also going to pretend you didn’t say that.”
“Girls don’t typically memorize food preferences, coffee orders, and schedules of guys they aren’t interested in.”
“She doesn’t…”
“She literally makes your favorite dinners once a week, loads up the house with your favorite snacks, and always seems to show up when you are done with the garage, hockey, and classes.”
"Huh."
"What do you mean 'huh'?"
"I thought..."
"...you thought she was just being nice?"
"...Yeah."
Garrett laughed.
"You're an idiot."
"...Probably."
Garrett's expression softened.
“In case you’ve missed it, Y/n is great. And I think that the two of you would be good for eachother.”
When Allie returns with me from the bathroom, it’s clearly time for me to call it a night.
Logan volunteers to take me home early.
Logan caught me just before I walked face-first into the passenger door.
"I got it," I insisted, squinting at the handle.
"You've been pulling on the mirror."
"...Oh."
I looked genuinely offended by the revelation.
"Who put the mirror there?"
A laugh escaped him before he could stop it.
"You okay?"
I nodded once.
Then twice.
Then frowned.
"The truck moved."
"The truck didn't move."
"It definitely moved."
He opened the door for me.
"Come on."
I climbed in with exaggerated concentration, lifting one leg into the cab before pausing halfway.
"...This is higher than I remember."
"Do you need help?."
"No?"
He reached across me to pull the seatbelt over my shoulder.
I froze.
We'd been close before.
Practically shoulder-to-shoulder in lecture halls.
Elbow-to-elbow at the hockey house.
But this...
This felt different.
His hand brushed my shoulder as he clicked the buckle into place.
"There."
I looked down at the seatbelt.
"I was gonna do that."
"I know."
"I really was."
"I know."
I looked at him for another second before smiling sleepily.
"...You're pretty."
His ears warmed.
"I think that's the alcohol talking."
"No."
I poked him in the chest.
"You've always been pretty."
He shook his head, closed my door, and walked around to the driver's seat before I could say anything else.
The drive back to campus was quiet.
The radio played softly.
Every few minutes I fought to keep my eyes open.
Every few minutes I lost.
Halfway home I mumbled,
"...Sorry."
"For what?"
I frowned.
"I dunno."
He glanced over.
"...You don't have to apologize every time you breathe."
I didn't answer.
A minute later—
"...Sorry."
Logan sighed.
"Nope."
"What?"
"No more apologizing."
"...Sorry."
He laughed despite himself.
When we pulled up to the hockey house, every light except the kitchen was off.
Logan climbed out and rounded the truck.
I was already trying to climb down by herself.
Keyword:
Trying.
My foot completely missed the running board.
"Oh!"
He caught me around the waist before I could fall.
I blinked up at him.
"I meant to do that."
"I'm sure."
"I'm testing your reflexes."
"Passed?"
"B-plus."
"B-plus?"
"You laughed."
He smiled.
"I'll take it."
Getting me inside proved even harder.
I insisted on whispering.
Very loudly.
"WE HAVE TO BE QUIET."
"We really don’t"
"THE BOYS ARE SLEEPING."
"No one’s home"
I gasped.
"Really?"
He nodded.
I slapped a hand over my mouth.
"Oh."
The couch won over the stairs after I nearly tripped on the second step.
"Nope," Logan said.
"You're staying down here."
"I can make it."
"I know."
"You don't believe me."
"I really don't."
He grabbed the throw blanket from the armchair and draped it over me before disappearing into the kitchen.
He returned with a bottle of water, two ibuprofen, and the little trash can Dean always kept nearby after parties.
I squinted at the collection.
"...Am I dying?"
"Tomorrow morning you'll think you are."
"Oh."
"...Thanks."
He sat down on the coffee table across from her.
"I don't think I've ever seen you this wasted."
I stared at the ceiling.
"...Helps."
His smile faded.
"What does it help?"
I swallowed.
"Being in love with someone…"
Another pause.
"...who's in love with someone else."
I pause, the gears turning in my brain.
I mumble, half-asleep, “It’s okay though…that you don’t like me…I get it…Hannah’s great.”
"I don't want Hannah."
I frown.
"...What?"
"I thought I did."
He sits on the floor beside the couch.
"I don't think I wanted her."
He looks down at the untouched bottle of water in his hands.
"I wanted someone who looked at me the way she looks at Garrett."
A long silence.
"I grew up watching relationships fall apart. Then I got here and saw two people who actually make each other better."
He smiles faintly.
"I wasn't jealous because Hannah chose Garrett. I was jealous because Garrett found someone who chose him."
The room was quiet.
I stared at him, trying to make sense of the words through the pleasant haze in my head.
"...You don't..." I whispered. "...you don't love Hannah?"
Logan shook his head.
"No."
"...Not anymore?"
"I don't think I ever loved her. I just wanted someone to choose me."
He looked at me, and found the smallest glimmer of hope in my eyes.
“I’d choose you, Logan…every time. ”
He froze.
“Your drunk.”
He goes to get up.
“No! Wait! Stay!”
My hand shot out before I could stop it, catching his wrist.
Logan stopped.
I wasn't pulling him closer. I just...didn't want him to leave.
"I'm right here," he said softly.
"You'll leave."
"I'm just grabbing another blanket."
"No."
My grip tightened, surprisingly strong for someone who could barely keep my eyes open.
"You always leave."
His brow furrowed.
"What do you mean?"
"You leave first."
"What?"
"You always..." I sniffled, blinking hard. "You always walk away first."
He slowly sat back down on the floor beside the couch.
"I didn't know you noticed."
"I notice everything."
A sad little laugh escaped me.
"You like your coffee black unless you've had less than four hours of sleep, then you put too much sugar in it."
Logan stared.
His mouth fell open slightly.
"You always stretch your left shoulder after practice because that's the one you separated in high school."
His mouth fell open slightly.
"Your the guy that reads the last page of instructions first, because knowing how it ends makes the rest of it make sense."
Silence.
Sleep was winning.
My grip on his wrist loosened.
"I know..." My voice cracked.
"...I know I never had a chance."
Logan closed his eyes.
I hadn't confessed to make him choose.
I hadn't tried to compete with Hannah.
I'd simply loved him quietly...
...and convinced myself it wasn't enough.
Logan's chest tightened.
He'd never noticed.
Not really.
He reached over and tucked a loose strand of hair behind my ear before immediately pulling his hand back, as if worried he'd crossed a line.
"I’m such an idiot."
He waited for a response, but was left with quiet snores.
A few hours later the rest of the boys filtered in.
Logan was still sitting on the floor. One elbow rested on the couch cushion while I slept peacefully beneath the blanket.
Garrett wandered into the kitchen wearing sweatpants and rubbing sleep from his eyes. He stopped. Looked at Logan. Looked at the couch.
"...She out?"
Logan nodded.
Garrett opened the refrigerator.
"You gonna sleep?"
"...Eventually."
Garrett grabbed a bottle of water.
"So?"
"So what?"
"You finally figure it out?"
Logan looked back toward the sleeping girl on the couch. A loose strand of hair had fallen across her face again. He resisted the urge to tuck it back.
"...Yeah."
Garrett smiled.
"Took you long enough."
Sunlight streamed through the front windows far earlier than it had any right to.
I groaned.
Every inch of me hurt.
My head pounded.
My mouth felt like I'd swallowed sand.
"...Never drinking again."
"You said that after Dean's birthday."
My eyes flew open.
Logan.
He was sitting in the recliner across from the couch, wearing gray sweats and a Black Briar Hockey hoodie, a mug of coffee cradled between both hands.
"...How long have you been awake?"
"About an hour."
"...Have you just been...watching me?"
A faint blush crept up his neck.
"I was making sure you didn't choke in your sleep."
"Oh."
"...That's less creepy."
He snorted.
"I made coffee."
"I love you."
The words left my mouth automatically.
Silence.
I froze.
He froze.
My eyes widened.
"...I..."
"Oh my God."
I buried my face in the blanket.
"I'm still drunk."
A laugh escaped him.
"No."
"I didn't mean—"
"I know what you meant."
"No, you don't."
"I think I do."
I slowly lowered the blanket just enough to look at him.
"...How much do you remember?"
His expression softened.
"Everything."
My stomach dropped.
Everything?
Everything everything?
"I sang."
"You sang."
"Oh no."
"You were incredible."
"...That's not the part I'm worried about."
He set his mug down.
"I know."
Silence stretched between us.
Finally—
"I remember telling you I liked you."
I couldn't look at him.
"...I'm sorry."
"There it is again."
I blinked.
"What?"
"The apology."
Heat flooded my face.
"I—"
"You don't have to apologize for loving someone."
My throat tightened.
"...You don't feel the same."
He stood.
Walked over.
Stopped in front of me.
"No."
My heart cracked.
Then—
"I don't feel the same."
He crouched in front of the couch.
"I feel worse."
I frowned.
"...Worse?"
"I think I've been falling in love with you for months."
I forgot how to breathe.
"But I was too busy convincing myself I wanted something else to notice."
He smiled—small, almost embarrassed.
"So..."
I whispered.
"...What now?"
He reached over carefully.
Slowly.
Like he was giving me every chance to pull away.
Instead, I met him halfway.
Our fingers intertwined.
"Now..."
His smile grew.
"...I take you on a proper first date."
I laughed.
"I've already confessed my love to you while blackout drunk."
"I know."
"I don't think this is how dating is supposed to start."
He grinned.
"I don't know."
He squeezed my hand.
"I think it's going to make a pretty great story someday."
For the first time in weeks, the ache in my chest didn't feel quite so heavy.
Maybe because, for the first time...
He was looking at me the way I'd always looked at him.
summary ! it'd been five months since you'd talked to john. five months. but when your car breaks down in the middle of the night, he's there for you, forcing you both to confront your feelings.
warnings ! slight angst. 18+ mdni. smut. unprotected sex. swearing. fluff if you squint. john lowkey has a breeding kink lol
wc ! 2.4k
author's note ! i need him so bad chat. so bad. not proof-read.
to be added to my taglist.
The first time your car decided to give out, you went where your parents had told you to. Some random auto-shop far too expensive for most people.
And it worked. For a little.
Three days later, your car broke down on the side of the road. It was close to midnight and you were sure as hell you were going to get murdered. So, you called Hannah to come get you. You were halfway through a conversation when she reminded you she had no car.
"Fuck, Hannah, what am I gonna do?" you grumbled, running a hand over your face.
"No worries. Logan can come get you, and he can fix your car."
You sucked in a breath. John Logan. The name was too familiar. The smell of his cologne still lingered in the air at times when you thought too hard. The feel of him against you, his hands on you, his lips on you.
You tried to shake the thought away. It was one hookup five months ago. Granted, it was also the last time you had a conversation with him for your own sanity, but still.
"Is there anyone else?"
Like Hannah knew you were going to say that, she simply replied, "Nope." And hung up.
You cursed, shoving your phone in your pocket and waited. You knew he'd come. He's just that type of guy. Your doors were locked and you were half-tempted to just start walking home if it weren't for your anxiety.
Ten minutes after you sent your location to Hannah, headlights appeared in your rearview, and a truck slowed down, pulling up behind you. You sighed, sucking in a breath and unlocking your doors, getting out.
Logan stepped out, sweatpants hanging low and shirt clearly just thrown on. Now, you felt a little bad. He was clearly sleeping before this. He walked over to you, the weight on your chest getting heavier as he came more into view.
You'd seen him around, sure, but you hadn't looked. Not until now. His stubble had grown out more, his hair a little longer. He looked more tired than usual, and it didn't seem to be just because of you waking him up at almost midnight.
Still, he smirked, giving no indication that he was upset, and leaned against your car, tapping the hood. "Car trouble?"
You rolled your eyes, although there wasn't much heat in it. "Obviously."
A chuckle. "Well, no way in hell can I fix it tonight. Grab your stuff, let's go."
You wanted to argue. Wanted to get angry that he was going to leave your car on the side of the road for anyone to have, but you didn't. Because logically, you knew he was right. It was too dark, too late, and there wasn't anything around.
He didn't have a shop full of tools and he wasn't superman.
Still, the thought of leaving your car behind sucked.
Logan noticed. "I'll have it towed to my family shop. No worries."
That, unfortunately, made you feel a little better. With a small nod, you grabbed everything important out of your car. The legal documents, your wallet and charger, and your duffle bag you had from spending the night at Allie and Hannah's last night.
You locked the car and shoved your keys in your pocket, following Logan to his truck. The walk was silent, and it was even more silent when you got in the vehicle. Logan called a tow truck, before he put the truck in drive and headed down the road.
For a moment, it was complete silence aside from the hum of his truck. Then...
"You look nice," he said simply. Your eyes flicked over to him for a second, seeing him looking between you and the road, before you glanced away. "Different, a little. Nice haircut."
You swallowed. "Thanks."
The awkwardness was killing you. Mostly because it was clearly only awkward to you. He seemed fine. Like the five months in between his dick in you and now didn't affect him at all. Why would it? It was just a hookup.
He did plenty of that.
You, however, didn't. And you'd been wondering why you did it with him ever since it happened.
"You need a haircut."
Logan laughed at that, low and soft and it went right to your stomach. You were fucked. You had to get out of this truck. "Yeah, I know."
The sound of the blinker pulled your focus, and you realized then that he wasn't heading to your apartment. Duh. Why would he? He had no idea where you lived.
"My apartment is the other way," you said.
"Good thing we're not going there."
The answer was simple enough. Full of confidence and certainty. But it made you spiral internally. Enough so that you asked, "Why?"
"It's almost midnight and you live on the other side of town. Hannah's at the house anyway."
"How do you know that?"
Your eyes met his. He smirked slightly, before looking back at the road. He didn't answer. You didn't like it.
You swallowed, eyes watching out the window as he drove. But there were things unspoken, things you wanted to scream out and things you never wanted to say at all.
Soon, he pulled up to the house, parking the truck and turning it off. He made no move to get out. Neither did you.
"Why'd you disappear?"
The question came unexpectedly. Soft and calm, but full of something you couldn't place. It made your heart race and your stomach drop. You didn't look at him. "Why does it matter?" you replied.
It wasn't meant to be a jab or a comeback, just a simple question, but it hit like one anyway. You felt the tension in the air the second you said it, and you had to swallow a lump that formed in your throat.
Silence. Silence so quiet it might've killed you if you let it.
"It was just a question," he finally said, voice barely above a whisper.
"So was mine."
"I asked first."
"We're not in middle school."
You finally looked at him, a small smile on his face from your words. You gave in quickly. "Because it was weird."
"What was?" He had genuine curiosity in his eyes.
"I don't...I'm not the type of girl who just hooks up with someone."
"I know."
Simple. Certain. It took your breath away and made a million questions run through your head.
"If you know, then—"
"You think I had sex with you as a one-off?" There was no defense in his voice, no anger. Maybe a little hurt, but mostly just genuine curiosity. Like the idea of it was other worldly.
You swallowed. "Well...yeah."
A small, humorless chuckle. "So, that's what you think of me, then?" A genuine question laced with something you couldn't place. Something that hit your chest and made your ribs crack under it.
"It's not a bad thing, Logan."
"Sounds like it."
You sighed. Questions still lingered. "So why did you have sex with me?"
"Because I wanted to." Simple enough, but it wasn't nearly enough to satisfy. He knew that. "Because I thought that it was clear just how much I wanted you when it happened. I guess things should've been clarified."
Your head spun, words bouncing around until you landed on one conclusion. "Wait." A pause, your eyes locked. "You wanted to go out with me?"
"No." Another pause. "I wanted you to be mine."
The air was thick. Heavy with tension of a different kind.
"Still do, somehow."
You swallowed, your eyes frantically searching his as if his brown depths would hold all the answers. "You do?"
"Kind of pathetic, right?" A humorless chuckle.
You shook your head. "No," you whispered.
Something about it solved the questions lingering between you two. His eyes flickered down to your lips, before he swallowed. "We should go inside."
A beat. "Yeah."
The doors opened as you two got out, you grabbing your stuff. You silently headed inside, and by the time you did, everyone was asleep or in their rooms doing something. You sucked in a breath, but didn't even get to head to the couch.
"My bed's big enough for two," he said simply, heading up the stairs. You paused for a moment, before following him up the stairs and into his room.
You dropped all your stuff by his door, looking around. The room was exactly the same as it was the last time you were in it. That made everything feel heavier. Logan went to his dresser, pulling out a shirt.
"Here."
He held it out. Your fingers brushed as you took it. "Thanks."
He nodded, yanking his shirt off and tossing it on his dresser. You took in a shaky breath, closing your eyes. You slowly unbuttoned your jeans, slipping them down your legs and then tossing them on your duffle bag next to your shoes. Your shirt came next, then your bra.
Then you were in Logan's shirt, the consuming smell of him making you a little dizzy. Silently, you walked over to his bed, climbing in next to him.
"I'm sorry." The words hung heavy in the air, but you needed to say them. "For disappearing. I got scared."
"I know."
You sighed, looking at him. His lamp light cast a small glow over his face, and he looked even more handsome than usual like this. "I wanted you too."
"Yeah?"
You nodded. "Still do."
A small smile appeared on his face, his hand sliding over your waist, pressing into the small of your back and pulling you closer. "Yeah?" he repeated.
You smiled softly. "Pathetic, huh?"
He shook his head as he leaned in. "No."
Then he was kissing you. Soft and sure and full of everything you'd been missing since that night. But it didn't stay that way for long. Soon, his tongue was in your mouth and he was pulling you so close that you could feel the hard planes of his body.
You moaned softly into the kiss, and that's all it took for him. He was rolling over, pulling you on him, your legs straddling his hips as you made out. You could feel him hard and aching under you already, and it did bad things to your core.
He groaned, pulling back, breath heavy. "Fuck, I'm out of condoms."
For all of two seconds, the world stopped, but then you were kissing him again, deeper this time. "I'm on birth control."
He groaned into the kiss, flipping your bodies so he was on top, your legs wrapping around his waist. "Can't say things like that to me," he murmured into your lips.
You giggled, gasping as he pressed his hips into yours. "Why not?"
"Makes me wanna fuckin' try my luck."
You moaned, his lips kissing down to your neck. You sucked in a breath, whining softly as he sucked on the sensitive skin, his hips rolling into yours.
"John," you whined softly, tugging at his hair.
He all but growled into your skin, pulling back. "That desperate, huh?"
There was no embarrassment right now. "Been thinking about you for five months. So, yeah."
He smirked, not bothering with his shirt on you and going straight for your panties, yanking them down in one swift motion.
"Tell me what you want, pretty girl."
There was no hesitation. "You. Fuck me."
His hands gripped your thighs, massaging them as he spread your legs. "Ask nicely."
You wanted to wipe the smirk off his face for all of two seconds before his thumb was pressing against your throbbing clit, rubbing slow circles.
You moaned softly, back arching. "Please," you whined.
"Please what?"
"Please fuck me."
He hummed, rubbing his thumb up and down your slit, making you crazy with lust. His other hand worked his sweatpants until he was bare in front of you and all you wanted in that moment was his cock inside of you.
"Are you sure? There's absolutely zero promise of me pulling out," he said seriously, his thumb stopping its movement on your pussy.
You nodded. "I'm sure."
He nodded back, leaning down and kissing you, replacing his thumb with his cock, rubbing the tip up and down your slit, collecting your slick as you both moaned. "Been thinking 'bout this pussy every day for five months," he groaned into your lips, the tip of his cock catching on your entrance with each pass.
You whimpered, pulling him closer by his hair, one hand grasping his back as best you could. His cock slowly pushed into you, not stopping until your legs were shaking slightly from the pressure of him being completely inside of you.
"Fuck, feels so fuckin' good," he grumbled deeply, teeth nipping at your jaw.
He started moving, slowly at first. Deep thrusts that sent your nails raking down his back and your eyes rolling back slightly as your mouth fell open in silent cries. His lips never stopped working your skin, marking everywhere he could get to and making sure everyone knew you were his.
"Oh, fuck," you cried out softly, his thrusts getting faster and deeper as he continued.
"Yeah? Feel good, pretty?" You nodded frantically, nails digging into his back as he fucked you. He chuckled. "Use your words."
"Y-yes, oh, fuck."
He grabbed your leg, hiking it up over his shoulder and deepening the angle so good you let out a louder moan than intended. "There ya go. Let me hear you."
His hips never slowed, never stopped. He was hitting that spot in you so deep and with every thrust. You were clenching around him every time he did it, and he moaned every single time. "Fuck, you're mine now, huh?"
You moaned in response, but it wasn't enough for him. He pulled his head back, looking at you. "Look at me, pretty girl. Tell me you're mine."
Your eyes fluttered open slowly, half-lidded and full of pleasure as you stared at him, face contorting in pleasure as he continued hitting that spot deep inside you. "Fuck, I'm yours. So yours."
He groaned, leaning in and kissing you messily, all teeth and tongue as his thrusts got harder. Not by much, but enough to make your toes curl. "Oh, fuck- John..." you whimpered.
"I know. I can feel this pretty pussy squeezing me. I've got you. Let go for me."
You moaned, nails surely leaving red marks in their wake as your orgasm crashed over you, making your head dizzy and your thighs shake as your pussy pulsed.
He kept fucking you through it, thrusting deep in you and prolonging your pleasure until you were sure you were going to lose all ability to function.
"Fuck, fuck," he groaned, cock twitching in you as he got closer.
Your legs locked around him, keeping him inside of you and giving him no chance of pulling out. That did it for him. One, two, three more deep thrusts and he was spilling in you, causing both of you to moan as his head dug into your shoulder, his hips stuttering.
He fucked you through his orgasm slowly, before coming to a stop, panting. Your breathing was heavy as you laid there, arms and legs still wrapped around him, holding him close.
Your hand came up, carding through his hair as you kissed his temple. "Fuck, that was amazing," you whispered.
He smiled into your skin, lazy and satisfied as he nodded. "Mmm, you have no fuckin' clue, baby."
☄︎ Warnings: logan puts reader in a headlock (not during smut). smut. alcohol drinking. both being oblivious af. nipple play. reader needy af. missionary (legs on shoulders)
☄︎ Pairing: F!Reader x John Logan
☄︎ Rating/Genre: Mature (🔞). Smut.
☄︎ Words: 6175
☄︎ Summary: Logan’s been your best friend for two years now. And it takes you way too long to realise that you both want more.
💭: john ‘closed cans are safer’ logan. i love you bad! i'll come back to readover this one again as it's a long one and i feel like i missed sth! if you enjoyed, please consider leaving a comment, ask, reblog etc, it means a lot xx
Original request here. 〣 Off Campus Masterlist here. 〣 Logan Masterlist here.
If you were asked to explain your relationship with John Logan, you’d probably tell people that he’s your best friend. Your person. The Mark Sloan to your Callie Torres, without the sex and baby part, of course...
The point is; he was a true friend. You supported one another through messy breakups, study meltdowns, hockey losses, and family drama all throughout your Freshman and Sophomore years. Sure, there were a few alcohol-induced kisses scattered across the past 24-months, but you did that with all your friends. It was Briar culture. It didn’t mean anything.
You were just best friends.
You didn’t believe in blurring boundaries. However, tonight, the foundations you’d spent the last two years building felt like the were being held together by nothing more than scotch tape and silly string.
The Hawks’ house smelt like a mixture of sweaty men, cheap citrus air freshener, and the greasy takeout that you and Logan had half-eaten and left on the kitchen island hours ago. You were slouched down on the sofa, scrolling through TikTok on your phone. Sprawled out next to you, with his heavy head resting on your lap, was Logan.
It was a position you’d found yourselves in a thousand times before. He was exhausted from the last practice, and you were his designated safe zone. The hand that wasn’t holding your phone was buried in his thick curls, your fingers absentmindedly massaging his scalp in the way that always got him to relax. His legs were dangled off of the opposite armrest, his eyes closed and breathing slow.
You glanced down at him. His eyelashes were annoyingly long, “why are men always blessed with long eyelashes?” you thought to yourself. There were faint bags under his eyes from a week straight of college essays, early morning ice time, and his shifts at the garage.
Without thinking, your thumb brushed the edge of his cheekbone, sweeping away a stray eyelash.
He smiled faintly but didn’t open his eyes, his breathing still calm and measured and you turned back to your phone screen.
The next video on your for you page had you snorting. You took your fingers out of his hair to forward the video to your group chat with a message.
That had Logan’s eyes cracking open. He blinked against the dim light coming from the lamp in the corner, his dark eyes looking up at you from your lap. “What’s so funny?” he grumbled.
“Nothing,” you smiled, looking down at him. “Just a funny video.”
Logan grunted and reached up, his calloused hand gently wrapping around your wrist to pull the phone down closer to his face. “Let me see.”
Angling the phone so he could watch, you cringed internally. He was not going to get this. The text on the screen read: “When he knows how to handle you”. In the video, the guy had his massive forearm around a girl’s neck, trapping her into a headlock while she giggled. Logan watched the video loop twice, then he looked up at you, his brow furrowing before he looked back at the screen and watched it loop once more.
“What the fuck are you watching?” Logan asked, a genuine chuckle rumbling in his chest.
“Don’t judge,” you said as you gave him a light slap on his shoulder. Your fingers then slid back into his hair, resuming their massage of his scalp. “It’s actually really hot.”
“Girls like being put in a headlock?” He scoffed.
“Yeah, it’s hot,” you retorted, standing your ground. “Especially when a man has like... thick arms.”
The sleepy look in Logan’s eye was completely gone. He slowly sat up and swung his legs around to face you.
“Why do I feel like you’re giving me dating advice that’s going to get me arrested?”
You scoffed, rolling your eyes. “I didn’t tell you to go and find a random girl on the street to tackle, Jonathon.”
It annoyed the hell out of him when you called him that, which is precisely why you called him that when he annoyed the hell out of you. you got the reaction that you were hoping for. His eyes squinted at you, his jaw clenching as his lips pressed together in a tight line.
“Anyway,” you continued as you tried to suppress your laugh. “It’s obviously only hot when you trust the man.”
“You trust me.”
It wasn’t a question, so you didn’t answer him. You turned back to your phone, suddenly hyper aware that he was still looking in your direction.
Logan just stared at you, a serious expression settling over his face as he contemplated your words. The gears were turning in his head, his gaze dropping briefly to your neck before snapping back to your eyes.
“Right,” he said, abruptly standing up from the couch. “I still think you’re weird, but okay.”
“It’s not nice to kink shame, Jonathon.”
He paused mid-step, turning back to look down at you. “If you call me that again, I’m going to pull you into a headlock.”
“I’ll run,” you challenged, shifting your weight to the edge of the cushion.
“I’ll chase you.”
“You are not going to chase me around this room.”
“Try me.”
He looked serious. Really serious. And you had no reason to believe he was bluffing. But, looking up at him and that challenging glint he had in his eyes, you found a reckless part of yourself desperate to test him.
You stood up slowly, backing away a step. “I don’t believe you ... Jonathon.”
The last syllable of the name had barely gotten out before he essentially pounced on you.
Your shriek dissolved into laughter as you bolted around the couch. But, as fast as you were, he was faster. He closed the distance with barely any effort. Before you could reach the edge of the living room, two pairs of heavy hands clamped around your waist.
He manhandled you with ease, pulling you back and flush against his chest.
In the next second, his forearm slid over your shoulder, hooking dominatingly around your neck. You could feel his chest rising and falling against your shoulder blades.
His face buried in the crook of your beck, his warm breath brushing against your ear as he whispered, “I told you I’d chase you.”
A sharp gasp caught in your throat. You were locked against him. Even if you wanted to move, which admittedly, you didn’t, you wouldn’t have been able to.
The moment your body collided with his, Logan lost all sense of self. He had honestly expected this to be a joke, a stupid thing he did where you’d both laugh it off and you’d go back to scrolling on your phone as he napped. But, the second your back hit his chest, the second your hips pressed firmly against his crotch, his brain basically shut down.
You shifted against him slightly, trying to find your footing and get comfortable in his tight grip. The friction of the movement sent an aggressive jolt of heat right below his stomach.
‘Oh,’ Logan thought, a wave of panic flooding through his system even as his grip subconsciously pulled you closer against him. “This is bad. Really, really bad.’
Despite the alarm bells ringing in his head, he didn’t let you go. He couldn’t. in fact, he leant in slightly closer, taking a deep breath and inhaling the scent of you. It filled his lungs, making his chest ache with a wave of possessiveness that he had absolutely no right to feel over a ‘best friend’.
Underneath his arm, you were frozen.
You had hugged Logan a thousand times. You had leant on him during late night study sessions, had fallen asleep on his shoulder during road trips, you’d even shared a bed with him after varous movie marathons. It had never, ever felt like this.
You could feel his heart beating frantically against your back. It was racing. You hand went up to his forearm, your fingers wrapping it. You held onto him, not even attempting to pull his arm away, even though every rational bone in your body told you that you should.
In a normal friendship, this is the part where he would laugh, call you a loser, and let you go. But he was holding you for far too long for it to be a joke. His forearm was pressed firmly against your collarbone, his fingers curling tightly into the fabric of your shirt at your shoulder. He had zero intention of letting you go.
‘Since when were his arms THIS big?’ you thought, mind dizzy and overwhelmed.
A knot of heat coiled deep in your stomach. You felt an ache in between your thighs. The kind that was desperate and dizzying and you had no right to be feeling towards your ‘best friend’.
‘’Get it together!’ you screamed at yourself internally.
“Ummm, Logan,” you choked out, your voice coming out embarrassingly breathless. “You should probably let go now.”
“Oh. Right. Yeah.”
Logan’s breath was ragged as he slowly, almost relucatantly, unraveled his arm from your neck. He immediately stepped back, clearing his throat roughly and refusing to meet you eyes as he rubbed the back of his neck.
“I guess... I get the hype,” he muttered awkwardly.
“Ha! Awesome,” you replied, just as awkwardly.
You practically sank back down onto the couch, your knees feeling like jelly, while Logan moved toward the kitchen island. He began aggressively clearing up the food containers, his back turned to you as his shoulders tensed.
The silence that was in the living room now was no longer comfortable. It was heavy, dripping with something you were too scared to contemplate about now. the invisible boundary had been crossed and you weren’t sure if you could even go back now. or, if you wanted to.
⋆꙳⛸❅*‧
The shift was almost immediate. For the next two weeks, even being in the same room as him sent you into a panic. It was made much worse by the fact that that was also his reaction. You tried to be normal, chilling in the hockey house as you usually did. But, when you both reached for the remote at the same time and your fingers brushed, Logan pulled his hand back as if he’d been brunt.
When you sat on the coach, Logan stayed on the opposite end. When you turned to speak, Logan kept his eyes on his book, even though you’d noticed that he hadn’t turned a page in almost 30 minutes.
But then, there were times where you’d catch him staring, watching your mouth as you spoke. When you caught him, he would look away immediately.
You felt like you were losing your mind. You couldn’t tell if he was acting like this because he felt awkward, or if he was just reacting to your awkwardness.
You looked at yourself in the bathroom mirror, trying get the imagines of him that kept flashing up out of your mind. It mostly involved his biceps wrapping around you as he fucked-.
“Okay, no, I’m obviously just sexually oppressed,” you muttered to yourself. It had been a while since you’d last been with someone, longer than you realised until this moment. “Logan is objectively hot and my brain is just playing tricks on me.”
That was the lie you told yourself. And, to prove it, you finally said yes to Lyle.
He was... nice. He had bright blonde hair, played lacrosse, and had been asking you out at nearly every party you went to for the last few months. You never really turned him down, and he took that as encouragement to keep asking. Truthfully, you hadn’t much minded the attention, even if you had previously never planned to do anything with it. But now, he was the perfect, and safe, distraction you needed from your newfound fixation on your best friend.
The following Thursday afternoon, you walked into the hockey house to drop off a textbook that you had borrowed from Tucker. You weren’t even sure if Logan would be there, as he hadn’t exactly been texting you much.
When you turned the corner, Logan was sitting at the kitchen island, shaking a protein shake in one hand as he scrolled through something on his iPad.
“Hey,” you said, making an effort to keep your voice casual. You tossed the textbook onto the counter.
Logan’s head snapped up instantly. The second his eyes took you in, his posture straightened. At least he was looking at you now. “Hey. You’re dressed up.”
You swallowed hard, suddenly feeling very self-conscious in your ‘dressed-up’ clothes. “Yeah. Um. I actually have a date in like, twenty minutes so I need to go–.”
“A what?” Logan froze; the protein shake in his hand stopping halfway to his mouth. “A date? What do you mean a date? With who? Sorry, what?”
Logan’s voice didn’t even sound like him.
“It’s just with Lyle. From class,” you said. Despite how your heart was currently doing backflips in your chest, your voice was steady. “We’re just getting drinks downtown. It’s no big deal.”
Slowly setting the shake on the island, Logan stood up. You blinked in surprise as you realised, he looked... angry?
“Lyle?” Logan scoffed, the name tasting like poison on his tongue. He stepped around the island and walked over to you, the closest he’s willingly come in months. “The lacrosse guy? The one that wears his cap backwards on his head like an absolute douche.”
You wanted to respond that Logan also wore his cap backwards on his head, but now didn’t seem like the right time to bring that up.
“He’s not a douche, Logan!” you defended instead. You weren’t even sure why you felt the need to defend Lyle this hard. But you did. “He’s nice, and I’m allowed to go on dates. You’re supposed to be happy for me, as my friend.” You emphasised the last word. He was being incredibly selfish right now.
“Well, I’m not. I’m not fucking happy, okay?” he snapped.
“Why?” Your voice trembled, your eyes watching him take deep breaths. “Why are you not happy for me?” you pressed.
Logan closed his eyes for a brief second, inhaling sharply. When he opened them again, you saw the old Logan, your best friend who had beautifully brown doe eyes. But then, it’s like he pulled the walls back up.
“Because he’s... an idiot.” Logan deflected. “He’s just trying to get you into bed.”
“Okay, and who says I’m not trying to get him into bed?” You fired back in a tone you weren’t proud of, the frustration boiling over inside of you.
Logan flinched, jaw tightening. “I just think you deserve better.”
“Well, that’s not your call to make.”
“Yeah. Clearly it isn’t,” Logan growled. “Go have fun.”
You stood there for longer than you should have, before you turned and practically bolted out of the door.
The date with Lyle was a, for lack of a better word, disaster.
It wasn’t even his fault. He was funny and charming. He listened to you when you spoke, and actually asked you questions. But, every time Lyle smiled, you wondered why his eyes didn’t shine like Logan’s did. Every time he laughed, you missed the sound of Logan’s.
He did nothing wrong, except not be Logan.
The date forced you to face that fact that you were becoming hopelessly in love with your best friend. and that it was ruining your life.
⋆꙳⛸❅*‧
By the time the next hockey party came around, you still hadn’t spoken a word to Logan. Nor had he reached out to you. you were too stubborn, too deeply afraid of your own feelings, to break the silence first.
When you walked through the front door of the crowded house, your hand casually looped through Lyle’s arm, your eyes instinctively scanned the room for Logan anyway. You hated yourself for it. Hated how looking for Logan in any crowded room was still your default.
It took you an embarrassingly short amount of time to find him.
He was leaning back against the kitchen counter, a red cup in his hand. He wore a flannel shirt with the first few buttons left undone, the parted fabric showing some the top of his toned chest. His thick curls were framing his face in a way that made him look effortlessly, infuriatingly, handsome.
He was locked into a conversation with a notorious puck bunny who was practically throwing herself at him. And he was eating it up. Logan was listening to her, his head tilted down, his dark eyes locked onto her face with a focused stare that made your stomach violently turn over.
You froze, watching as the girl leant further into him. Her manicured hand slid up his bicep, her fingers scratching lightly against his arm as she whispered something into his ear. Her lips inches from his neck.
It infuriated you that Logan didn’t pull away. Instead, his eyes began to scan the room, clearly searching for something, or someone. His eyes stopped on you when he spotted you, still stood by the front door. The smile on his face vanished instantly. He pulled back from the puck bunny, his posture freezing as he took in the sight of you standing beside Lyle.
You gave him the coldest look you could muster before turning away. You pulled Lyle over to the makeshift bar, immediately pouring you both a heavy drink.
For the next two hours, you put on the performance of a lifetime.
You dragged Lyle to the living room floor and danced on him. You laughed way too loudly at a stupid joke that Garrett had made. You let Tucker convince you to line up a row of tequila shots, intentionally standing directly in Logan’s line of sight so he could see how much fun you could have without him.
But it was a miserable victory. He still didn’t approach you and he didn’t even look that bothered.
Eventually the heat of the house was too much. Ditching Lyle on the sofa, you slipped out into the cooler air of the backyard, heading toward the secondary bar area. You grabbed a bottle of water, pouring yourself a fresh drink, trying to stop your hands from shaking.
The sound of deep laughter had your shoulders squaring. You knew that laugh better than you knew your own name.
Logan and Dean walked over to where you were standing. The moment Logan noticed you there, alone, his laughter died. While he went silent, Dean got louder, shouting your name and pulling you into a hug.
Dean looked between the two of you. “So,” he drew out. “I take it we’re still going this miserable silent-pining thing then?”
Both you and Logan snapped your heads toward him, glares locking onto him.
“God, even your reactions are the same,” he laughed. “I don’t know why you guys are looking at me like that.”
“Shut up, Dean,” Logan mumbled.
“Look, you two either need to fuck and get it out of your system or just confess how you feel about each other. It’s painfully obvious at this point.”
“Dean. Shut. Up,” Logan practically begged.
It wasn’t lost on you that he didn’t deny anything to Dean.
“You’ll thank me for that later,” Dean laughed, patting Logan’s shoulder before turning on his heel and walking back inside, leaving the two of you there.
You stared at Logan, waiting for him to say something, anything. to apologise. To clear the air. But, he didn’t. he just stood there, his eyes burning into yours.
You let out an annoyed sigh and turned to walk past him, done with the games.
His hand shot out, his finger clamping around your wrist. “Wait, don’t go. Can we walk?”
“About what, Logan?” you snapped, trying to pull your hand back.
“Don’t be like that.”
“If you don’t like the way I’m ‘being’, you can go back to your girl.” You gestured toward the house. “You seemed real interested in her.”
Logan looked down at you. You were stubbornly looking away, your jaw set, and you probably would have had your arms crossed if he didn’t have a vice grip on your wrist.
“How much have you had to drink tonight?” He asked suddenly.
“Excuse me?”
“I saw you at the kitchen island with Tucker,” he said, his grip firm but careful. “I saw the tequila. How much have you had?”
“Why are you asking me this?”
At this point, you weren’t even being purposely defiant, you were just genuinely confused at the sudden shift in conversation.
“Please, it’s important.” For the first time in a long time, he really looked at you. You saw the plea in his eyes.
“Fine, if you must know. I had like one drink, plus those shots.”
“So, how do you feel? Tipsy? Drunk?” his eyes scanned your face, checking the focus of your pupils, needing to be absolutely sure.
“I’m not drunk, Logan. Why are you asking me this?”
A visible wave of relief washed over him, his shoulders dropping slightly. “Good, come with me.”
Without waiting for your response, his grip slid down from your wrist to capture your fingers. His palm felt cold against your warm one. He dragged you back toward the back door of the house, navigating the way through the crowd, and all the way up to his room.
Logan let go of your hand and stepped back, running a frustrated hand through his curls. He began to pace the length of his floor. “I need to say something and I just... I want you to hear me out.”
“Okay...” you said softly, going to take a seat on the edge of his mattress.
“I need to... I want to apologise to you.” Logan stopped pacing to look down at you. “I didn’t realise I was hurting you.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Well, you did know. You knew exactly how he’d hurt you, but you couldn’t admit that.
“With Sarah,” Logan explained, stepping closer to you. “I was flirting with her because I was trying to get over you. I wasn’t purposely trying to make you jealous. Although, I won’t lie and say I’m not enjoying it just a little.”
“I wasn’t jealous,” you lied.
Your brain was choosing to ignore all the other things he said. While you weren’t drunk, you also didn’t have the brain capacity to try decipher what he was saying. What he really meant by ‘trying to get over you’.
He laughed, and God you’d missed that sound.
“I think you were jealous,” he said. “And that’s good cause it might mean you’ll hate me a little less when I say this.”
“Logan, I–.”
“Please, just let me finish,” he interrupted softly, taking another step until he was towering over where you sat on the edge of his bed. “Remember in freshman year, you told me that story about the guy who got close to you in high school only cause he wanted to sleep with you?”
You nodded, not a pleasant memory.
“I swear to you on my life, that’s not what this is,” Logan whispered. He sank down to his knees on the floor directly in front of you, bringing his face level with yours. “You’re my best friend. The most important person in my life. I didn’t plan for this, it just happened. I just–.”
“You what?” You asked as he trailed off.
“I didn’t plan to fall for you,” he confessed. “It was so easy. Too easy, actually.”
When you were silent, he continued rambling, “And I’ve been thinking about what I would do to you if I had the chance. Every single night, I think about it. So... that’s why I was with Sarah. I’m trying to block it out so I can be there for you how you need me to. I’m sorry I couldn’t just be the friend you needed.”
There was too much to process, your mind scrambled. It felt too good, too terrifying, too much like a fantasy you’d conjured up in the middle of a touch-starved night.
“Logan... how much have you had to drink?” It was like you were trying to find a loophole, a reason to protect yourself just in case this was all a joke.
He smiled up at you. “Unfortunately, I am extremely sober. I could do with a drink, honestly.”
You let out a deep breath. So, this was real?
“I think you should lock the door,” you said, your tongue felt like lead in your mouth. “Quickly.”
He scrambled up from the floor and practically ran to lock the door. When he turned back around, his breath caught in his throat.
You were sitting on the edge of his bed, your eyes locked onto his as your fingers slowly slipped the straps of your dress down over your shoulders, letting the fabric pool around your waist.
“Show me,” you commanded softly. “You have the chance, show me what you’ve been thinking about.”
Standing up, you stepped out of your dress and shoes, the fabric pooling on the floor. You were about to take your bra off when Logan stopped you.
“No,” he said, voice thick with need. “I want to do that. Lie back on the bed.”
Doing as you were told you, you got comfortable on the bed. You tugged your bottom lip between your teeth in anticipation as you watched him strip down to his boxers, his eyes never leaving yours.
Once bare, he climbed onto the bed and sat between your open legs. He leant over you, his palms resting flat on the mattress on either side of you. He looked down at you, his eyes filled with lust and adoration.
“I’ve thought about this for so long,” Logan whispered, his voice trembling slightly. “There are so many things I want to do to you.”
You reached up to rest your hands against his shoulders. It should have felt weird, the shift from being his friend, to thinking about him, to being here, under him. It didn’t. He looked down at you with the same expression he had been for a while, and you were sure your expression mirrored his. Maybe Dean was right, it was painfully obvious.
“Can I kiss you?” Logan asked.
“Yes, please,” you plead.
He leant down slowly, so slowly that you wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him down into you. While his every movement so far was dripping with patience, his kiss was anything but. The transition from his gentle hesitation to starved desperation was instantaneous.
As soon as your lips parted, he groaned deep in his chest as he swept his tongue along with yours. He caught your tongue between his lips, sucking on it heavily. His tongue slid back into your mouth, tangling with yours over and over as he demanded more from you.
Logan’s hand found your jaw, tilting your head to deepen the kiss.
Your fingers knotted deep into his curls, pulling him down closer, matching his desperate pace as a spark ignited deep in your stomach.
“Shit,” he shuddered, as you wrapped your legs around his waist and ground up into him, desperate for the friction.
You whined as he sat up and unwrapped your legs from him. “If you keep grinding into me, I’m going to cum in my boxers. Is that what you want?”
Too dazed on the feeling of him, you couldn’t even tease him for the confession. “No.”
“Right,” he said, “then be patient.”
“Yes, Jonathon.”
You giggled softly under him as he leant down again. His nose brushed slowly against your neck, inhaling deeply as he found the exact spot where you were the most sensitive. He parted his lips and bit down on the soft slope of your neck. Not hard enough to draw blood, but hard enough.
A loud whine was dragged from your throat, your fingers digging into his thick biceps, as he bit down on you. his tongue swept over the bite before his lips locked onto the skin, sucking deeply enough to leave a semi-permanent mark.
Your head fell back against the pillow as he moved to the other side of your neck, feeling happily helpless against the marks he was bruising into your skin.
With one last kiss to the marks he’d etched into your skin, his kisses drifted downward. Logan took his time, his jawline grazing your collarbone as he pressed a kiss to the base of your throat. He used every touch, every kiss, to show you how badly he wanted you.
“You’re so beautiful,” he murmured between the trail of wet kisses he was leaving across your chest. “How lucky am I, that I get to learn exactly how you like to be touched?”
“Logan,” you said breathily. You raised your chest slightly, a silent and desperate plea for him to keep going.
His hands slid up from beneath your waist. His palms were no longer cold; they blazed against your skin as he traced up your ribs, his touch leaving a trail of goosebumps in its wake. His hands then moved to your back, his fingers finding the clasp of your bra.
Logan stopped, he kept his eyes on yours as he asked, “Is this okay?”
When you nodded, he moved to unhook the clasp. It took him a few attempts to get it, not helped by the awkward angle with your back flat against the mattress and the way his fingers were shaking with anticipation. His nervousness only made this hotter for you. Once undone, he pulled the straps down over your shoulders, peeling the fabric off of you and throwing it onto the floor.
His gaze raked down your torso, taking you in completely.
For a split second, you wanted to wrap your arm over yourself, a sudden wave of vulnerability hitting you when you remembered that Logan’s never seen you like this before. But the way he looked down at you with breathless awe filled you with an intoxicating confidence.
With your bra out of the way, he leant down, this time his warm mouth closed over one of your erect nipples. He sucked softly at first, his tongue swirling in a slow and deliberate circle. Your nails dug into his back, scratching at the skin there as he rolled your other nipple between his fingers.
He hummed in satisfaction, encouraged by your reaction. He increased the pressure, his lips pulling at your nipple in tight suction as his thumb grazed over your other nipple in synch with his mouth.
“Logan, I’m so wet.” You loved this, loved the attention, but he was talking his time and, between your legs, you were aching for him. “I need you now, Logan. Please.”
“Oh, but there’s so much more I need to do with you.” Logan would be lying if he said he wasn’t right there with you, his dick was painfully throbbing between his legs, straining against the constraint of his boxers. He had ignored it, wanting to give you the attention you deserved.
“Next time,” you whimpered.
“Okay, baby, whatever you need.” Logan shifted slightly so he was straddling one of your legs. He kept his mouth on your nipple as he pressed his thumb to your clit through the cotton of your panties. He dragged his thumb down over your clothed folds, earning a loud moan from you.
“Fuck, you are soaked.”
Reaching down, you tugged at the waistband of his boxers. He helped you pull them down, wiggling out of them before he helped you wiggle out of your panties.
A thick lump in his throat formed as he spread your legs. “You’re even more beautiful here than I imagined.”
You felt your cheeks heat at the compliment, but he didn’t give you much time to think about it as his dick edged at your hole. He eased himself into you, only giving you a bit more once you fully stretched to accommodate him.
“Is this still okay?” He said through clenched teeth as he bottomed out.
You hadn’t ever been stretched like this, the burn so good. “Yes, Loge, feels so good.”
With your confirmation, he began to move. He pulled out just as slowly as he went in, then drove his hips back into you. he did that a few times, relishing in the feel of your walls around his dick as he moved.
He manoeuvred you so that both of your legs were resting against his shoulders. The new angle had him reaching deeper into you with every thrust. Pulling back slowly, he watched your face as he thrust back in. his dick twitched within you as he watched you sharply inhale, your mouth falling partly open.
“Talk to me,” he rasped. He could see you were enjoying it, but he needed to hear how wrecked the words were when they came out of your mouth. “Keep telling me what feels good.”
There was so much you wanted to say, but instead you settled on, “This. You. Everything.”
He let out a dry chuckle as his thrusts increased in pace. His hand slipped between your legs, coating his fingers in your arousal before moving to your clit. Your hips bucked into his touch.
“Yeah? You like that?”
“I do,” you sobbed.
All you could hear was the sound of your heart pounding in your ears as your vision faded to black. Every thrust now was hitting that soft spongy wall within you.
“Yes! Right there~ don’t stop, Loge,” you begged.
It felt like too much and not enough at the same time. He gasped, feeling you slowly expand and then tightly contract around his length.
You felt his hips falter, his orgasm quickly approaching. “Your pussy is perfect, baby. I’m gonna–.”
“Fill me up, Loge,” you begged, interrupting him so he didn’t even think about pulling out. “Cum in me, please.”
He let your legs drop from his shoulders as he pressed himself onto you so that you were chest to chest. He kissed you as he came into you, his thrusts turning into slow grinds of his hips.
As he came down from his high, he wiggled his hand between your bodies to circle at your clit again.
“I’m so close,” you muffled into his shoulder. “Keep doing exactly that.”
He listened, keeping the same pressure and intensity. You bit into his shoulder, nails digging into his back as you became a mess under the force of your orgasm. Your entire body buzzed as pleasure rippled through you.
Logan groaned against your neck as you squeezed around his softening dick. He lifted his head, eyes still dark and heavy, and pressed a quick kiss to your lips before he slowly slid out of you.
He rolled over, lying flat on his back with a deep exhale. Your body mourned the loss of him, already feeling cold without him surrounding you. a second later, he reached out and pulled you flush against his side.
“As first time’s together go... that was pretty...” you trailed off, tracing a lazy circle on his chest.
“Mind-blowing?” He finished for you, a smug smirk playing at the corner of his lips.
You both laughed then. The sound was bright and easy. it felt so good to just laugh with him again.
“Yes, mind-blowing. Round of applause to you.”
You laughed again as you both started clapping in synch.
“We can never let Dean know he was right by the way,” Logan said as he turned his head to look at you.
“I mean, he probably knows. Knowing him, he was listening through the door the whole time,” you retorted.
You were only half-being serious, but the thought made you both freeze. You simultaneously held your breath, eyes darting to the locked bedroom door, listening to see if you could hear the creak of the floorboards over the bass of the music.
When you heard nothing, you laid your head back on his chest, you knew you should get up and go to the bathroom, but you just wanted to be in this moment for a bit longer.
“We should probably talk about this.” He gestured vaguely between the two of you, his hand moving to rest on your waist. “Like... what this means. For us. For our friendship. Are you okay with everything that just happened?”
“I’m more than okay, Logan,” you whispered. “And we will talk about all of it. I promise. But can we do that tomorrow?”
“Yeah,” he breathed, “tomorrow is fine. I just want to say that I’ve been your best friend for two years, and I’m going to keep being your best friend if you’ll have me. I’ll just also be the guy who loves you.”
You lay in his arms for a little while longer, wanting to just stay in a world where John Logan loved you.
☄︎ Warnings: oral (f!receiving), ridin’, sweaty logan, not proofread (it's 3am i'm sorry)
☄︎ Pairing: F!Reader x John Logan
☄︎ Rating/Genre: Mature (🔞). Smut.
☄︎ Words: 2800
☄︎ Summary: You and Logan semi-make up in the locker room after an argument.
💭: am I toxic? lol🧍🏾♀️you all are making my logan obsession become so much worse!! i’m supposed to be a loyal dean girlie pls! but... i have some more logan fics to get to which i am very excited about hehe... if you enjoyed, please consider leaving a comment, ask, reblog etc, it means a lot xx
Original request here. 〣 Off Campus Masterlist here.〣 Logan Masterlist here.
You paced the length of the Hawk’s arena hallway, trying your best not to let your impatience show. The muffled sound of celebratory music thumping from the main arena doors down the hallway doing nothing but making you even more antsy.
Under your impatience, you were furious. You had been furious since last night, when you and Logan argued over something so miniscule that you couldn’t even remember what it was about. While you don’t remember the cause of it, you do remember that you’re furious about it.
It didn’t help that the two of you hadn’t spoken to one another from since he had said, “I love you, but I’m not doing this right now.” and walked out of your dorm, slamming the door on his way out. Okay, he hadn’t actually slammed the door but, to you, he basically did. And that made you furious.
Despite your stubborn vow to ignore him until he came crawling back to you, you still found yourself sitting in the stands with Hannah and Allie to watch the game. You had, childishly, planned to look unbothered and uninterested in the game. You had even practised your yawn. But, from the moment that Logan took to the ice to the time he got off it, you were on the edge of your seat.
He played like a man possessed. Obviously, he was just as furious as you were and he had channelled all of that into the game. He was checking the Harvard guys into the plexiglass with such a force that you swear you saw it wobble. He threw his head back and roared when he scored, it took all of your dignity to not start moaning right there and then.
Every time he skated past your section, chest heaving under the padding, you became a little less angry with him. And, somehow, a whole lot more furious with him.
And this wait was making it worse.
The double doors of the locker room finally clicked open; the team flooding out in chaotic chatter. You watched as the partners gravitated towards their boyfriends. That should be you and Logan, but it’s not because you’re ‘fighting’. You stayed with your back against the wall, waiting for the hallway to clear. You knew that Logan wouldn’t be coming out with them.
Once the hallway cleared and the voices faded, you pushed open the door and stepped into the way-too-brightly lit locker room.
Logan was sitting in his stall, his forearms resting heavily on his knees as he stared blankly at the Hawks logo on the carpeted floor. His thick, dark curls fell over his eyes, soaked with sweat. He was still in his uniform, only his skates and helmet were off, discarded somewhere on the floor.
Even from across the room, you could feel the pent-up aggression vibrating off of him in waves.
When the door clicked shut behind you, his head snapped up. You leant back against the it, refusing to come in any further. You’d already taken the first step towards him. Now he had to come to you. His eyes narrowed on you, dark and intense.
“You’re still here,” he rasped. It wasn’t a question, but you answered it anyway.
“Yes,” you said, crossing your arms tightly over your chest. And, because you were being petty, added, “and, I’m still mad at you.”
Logan snorted, running a tense hand through his damp hair. He slowly stood up and walked over to you, stopping inches away from you.
Without his skates, he didn’t tower over like he would have done on the ice, but he was tall enough and wide enough to make you feel surrounded as you stood up straighter against the door.
His jaw clenched as he looked down at you and you felt a sudden heat pooling between your legs.
“I’m still mad at you,” he fired back.
“Mhm,” you murmured.
Your eyes greedily looked over him. The way his brow was furrowed. The sharpness of his jawline. The way he watched you looking all dark and serious. He looked rugged, undone, and it was so attractive to you that it made your heart ache and pussy clench.
His jaw clenched under your scrutiny, his gaze dropping to your lips as his breathing became shallower, more uneven.
“Have you come to pick another fight?” Logan asked.
“Maybe,” you countered, your voice steady despite your racing pulse. “Why? Do you want me to?”
“No.”
“Well, then I’m not here for that.”
“Then why are you here?”
He knew why you were here, the asshole. He could see your eyes travelling his body. He could see you watching the sweat roll down his neck. There’s no way he didn’t notice your chest rising or the way your eyes had dilated. He just wanted to hear you say it.
He leant forward slightly, hands slamming against the wall on either side of your head, trapping you there.
God, the smell of him. From this close, it was overwhelming. The smell of his sweat shouldn’t have pulled you in the way it did. But there was something so him and so masculine about the way he smelt.
That’s how you knew you were down bad.
You looked up at him, your stubbornness and pride pushed aside by the unadulterated need. “Are you going to kiss me or what?”
He didn’t answer and worse, he didn’t kiss you. Instead, the motherfucker smirked at you. He slipped his hands under your thighs, grabbing a hold of your ass and effortlessly lifted you up. He pressed you back against the door and you instinctively wrapped your legs around him.
The padding under his jersey prevented you from being chest to chest, forcing him to lean forward and tilt his face towards yours.
He hovered there, his lips a fraction away from yours, so close that you could feel the rapid puff of his warm breath on you, but he still wouldn’t kiss you. He stared down at your lips, then looked back up at you. You looked into his eyes, seeing the intensity of last night’s anger, tonight’s victory, and his raw desire for you. It was one of the things you loved most about him, he couldn’t hide anything in his eyes.
You felt a vein in your neck throb. You tilted your chin up, expecting him to crash his lips against yours now that you’ve made the first move. But Logan deliberately pulled his head back just an inch further. Teasing you. Letting you ache for it.
“Asshole,” you muttered, your fingers digging tightly into the damp fabric of his padded shoulders.
“Say that again.”
Instead of answering, you tried to pull his head down, but he held his ground. Keeping his eyes locked on yours, he shifted his weight, deliberately grinding his hips forward to press the hardness in his pants right against you.
“Ass. Hole.” You punctuate each syllable, if that’s what he wanted, you would give it to him.
His eyes flared as heat ran through his body. He ground into you again, making your breath hitch.
Lifting you higher in his arms, he pressed himself against you. His dick was twitching in his pants, and he so desperately needed relief.
“What am I going to do with you?” He let out an exasperated laugh as he tilted his head and leant into you.
The first touch of his lips was just a soft brush, but it still sent a ripple down your spine. You hadn’t expected him to be so delicate after the way he’d been looking at you and teasing you. He lingered there, brushing his lips across yours.
He brushed his lips against yours once more, before capturing your lower lip between his teeth, biting and tugging slightly.
You moaned.
The second the sound left your throat; Logan released your lip and kissed you for real. It was bruising and desperate and exactly what you needed to get out the frustrations of the last 24 hours. His hands were suddenly all over you in a frantic blue, sliding up the hem of your shirt, cupping your ass to lift you higher, caressing your face to tilt your mouth deeper into his.
Clinging to his neck, you were only faintly aware that he had begun moving. He kept his lips on yours, carrying you across the room as he stumbled to his locker.
He didn’t break the kiss until he was in front of his locker. As his hands slid from your ass, to your waist, he pulled back, eyes locking onto yours as his chest heaved.
“Pants off,” he said, voice gruff.
The moment you unwrapped your legs from him and stood up, he was there to help you with your jeans. His fingers were trembling as he frantically tried to undo the button.
Once your jeans slid down, you sat back on the black cushion of his locker bench, looking up at him with your heart hammering in your chest.
Logan dropped to his knees, settling right between your legs. His hands gripped your knees, spreading your legs open to look at the wet patch on your panties.
He stayed there for a beat, thinking about exactly how he wanted to devour you first. He settled on your thighs first.
His hands stayed gripped on your knees as he leant forward, pressing kisses and sucking on the sensitive skin along your inner thigh, travelling up. He got unbearably close to where you were waiting for him, already soaked, before trailing back down again.
You let out a frustrated whimper, your fingers clawing at his scalp.
On his third journey up, a heavy hand came to your stomach as he gently guided you to lean back against the wooden cubby. At the same time, his other hand slid around your lower back.
With an effortless tug, he pulled you forward until your ass was right at the edge of the bench. You rested one leg over his shoulder, completely opening you up to him.
It had only been a day and a half since he last had his face buried between your legs, but to him, it might as well have been an eternity.
“Fuck, baby, I missed this,” he said as he buried his face between your legs, inhaling you in.
With one hand, he slid your panties to the side and parted one of your folds so he could lick a fat stripe up your pussy. He did it again, and again, and again, lapping up the juices there before moving to focus on your clit.
Your hips bucked into his mouth as he flicked his tongue against you. He had no more intentions to tease you; he wanted you to cum on his face.
He used his nose to rub against your clit and you shamelessly rolled your hips over it. The friction feeling so good.
A whine caught in your throat as he dove back in with his tongue, flicking from left to right.
“Logan~~.”
He looked up at you, spit and arousal shining on the lower half of his face. “Feel good, baby?”
“So, good, you always make me feel so good.” You curled your fingers in his dark curls, pushing him back between your legs.
Chuckling at your impatience, he went right back to work. His hand slipped under the hem of your top again so he could squeeze and knead your breast, the other still holding your panties so he could get at you.
You tugged at his hair as he pressed his tongue against you and swirled it in uncontrolled circles.
When he was between your legs, all he cared about was giving you exactly what you wanted. What your body needed. You needed, he obliged, tongue continuing to flick and swirl against you.
“Don’t stop– I’ll...” Your thought died on a moan.
The locker room was filled with the wet sounds of him moving his mouth against you, and the loud lewd moans that you freely let out. You didn’t care if anybody was around to hear you. In fact, you wanted them to hear just how good Logan was to you.
He could feel himself getting drunk off of the taste of you, his body was warm and buzzing. He was starting to feel delirious as your hips rolled on him.
The pressure of his tongue on you was perfect, you could feel the pleasure build steadily within you.
“Your tongue feels so good, Loge,” you praised. You were close. So close.
“Then come for me,” he said as he slid two fingers inside of you, curving and caressing your walls.
Shockwaves of pleasure ran over you as you came, clenching on his fingers. He kept his mouth on you through it, humming and moaning at the taste of you.
When your body finally settled, he sat back on his knees, panting heavily as his lips glistened in the harsh fluorescent blue lighting. You reached over, pulling him in for another kiss, tasting yourself on his lips.
“Wanna ride you, Loge,” you mumbled against his lips.
Logan didn’t need to be told twice; he was already thumbling with his pants when you pulled back to take your panties off.
The pants were barely down past his knees when you gently pushed him to lie flat on the carpet and straddled him.
“Just lay back, let me take care of you now,” you soothed as you ground against him, leaving a trail of slick arousal on his aching dick.
He practically whimpered as you continued to slide over him.
“B-baby.” His hands came to your waist, thumbs digging into your skin through your top. “Let me fuck you.”
Looking down at him, his eyes were half-lidded as they pleaded you. Who were you to argue with those beautiful brown eyes.
Lifting your hips up slightly, you held his dick to guide it into your pussy.
As your hole stretched around his tip, he let out a strangled moan. You watched him as you slowly lowered yourself onto him, coming to a full seat.
He throbbed and twitched within you, his thick head leaking pre-cum. You circled your hips, relishing in the feeling of him rubbing against your walls.
You hadn’t even really moved yet and he already looked wrecked. His mouth was hung slightly open, eyes squeezed shut. You craved more, to see him absolutely shattered by you.
Bracing your hands on his on the still damp fabric of his Briar U jersey, you began to move. You don’t raise your hips high, choosing smaller bounces and grinds of your hips.
For a few minutes of bounces, he let you set your pace, grunting and groaning as you sensually moved over him.
Each bounce brought him to the brink of desperation, his restraint wearing thin.
The hands on your waist tightened as he helped guide your rhythm in desperation. He needed you faster, he needed you to slam back down onto him harder.
“You were so hot out there.” Your voice was breathy, bouncing on him the way you were had you exhausted. “I wanted to touch myself just watching you play.”
The praise made him grip you impossibly tighter, made him slam you back down even harder.
His dick curved just the right way to hit your g-spot, causing you to see stars as you clenched around him. You moaned in tandem, his head thrown back as a result of your vice grip.
You didn’t care that if anyone opened the door right now, they’d come face to face with you bouncing on it. He didn’t care that the carpet rubbed at his ass as he tried to thrust up into you, limited by his pants around his ankles.
All you both cared about was the way you were wrapped around him, and the sounds that tumbled from his mouth as he got close.
It took a few more harsh bounces from you for him to unload into you. The hands on your waist held you in place as he filled you up. You purposely clenched, milking him for all he had.
“Fucking hell.”
You collapsed against his padded chest, your forehead resting against his shoulder as your breathing slowed. You turned to inhale the fresh sweat on his neck. “You need a shower.”
Logan wrapped his arms around you, pulling you tighter against him. An exhausted smirk tugging at his lips. “So do you, coach is going to be pissed if you drip cum onto his floor.”
You were still furious with him, and his stupidly hot face. You knew the fight wasn’t actually over. But, if this is what being angry with Logan brought you, then you were more than happy to pick another fight tomorrow.
no lube, no protection, all night, all day, from the kitchen floor to the toilet seat, from the dining table to the bedroom, from the bathroom sink to the shower, from the front porch to the balcony, vertically, horizontally.
part 1 - part 2 - part 4 - part 5 - part 6 - part 7 - part 8 - part 9
summary: after last night incident and after talking with the boys, Logan made his way to ask for help to Allie about you, but the one behind the door is you and not Allie. So, he just clarified that he is NOT interested in the puck bunnies, he just wants you. So he took you out on a first date.
words: 3.1k. (sorry not sorry, today I was feeling it)
wanings: fluff, fluff, fluff and more fluff. Logan yearning, being the gentleman he is. Tooth rotting fluff. The boys and Allie being Logan and your number one fan. Mentions of food, Logan giving you the princess treatment you deserve, ZERO fragile masculinity.
a/n: hi again my loves, I LOVE our boy Logan so I wrote the perfect first date and previous the yard festival/dynamic-duo chapter. Get ready because I insist, things are going to get hot and heavy (WINK). Hope you like this and sorry if there is a mistake, not proofread, English is not my native (first) language. LOVE Y'ALL and happy pride month<3!
italics = past
bold = text messages
--- --- ---
Logan knocked on Allie and Hannah’s door. He wanted to talk with Allie about last night and also to ask for her help. Moment to be honest with her too, not only his male friends.
While he waited, he heard footsteps getting closer to the door. “Allie you promised me that Dean was not coming over!” and before Logan had the chance to leave, someone opened the door.
The best surprise for him, it was you behind that door. “Oh, hi Logan, sorry I thought it was Dean”.
Did he knock on the wrong door? He looked back and saw your door with decorations and your name written down with glitter.
“Morning, ladies. How are you?” Logan smiled at the pacific look you have this morning, bringing him calm too. He can do this, he forgot how long it has passed since he was this nervous around a girl.
“Fine fine, come over I’ll call Allie she was getting dressed” you move to the side to invite him to enter the room. He’s been in that room just a few times, mostly when the girls hosted a “party” just with the group.
“Actually, now that you are here too, I would like to talk to you too, if you have time” Logan told you and you show the surprise of his words in your face.
“Yeah, of course. I have time, this weekend professor Carol gave me free days” you said. “Just hold on for a second because I don’t want to worry Allie” you disappeared for five seconds to knock on Allie’s door to let her know that Logan was there and wanted to talk to her and also with you.
“K’ ready, what happened?” you asked him to take a spot on the couch and he followed you.
—
A few hours ago, Allie texted you and told you that she saw your message last night but she arrived home late going straight to her bed.
Allie ✨: Want to come over for breakfast? Hannah’s going to be out because she has to open Malone's today
you🦋: omw!
When it comes to Allie, she doesn’t come to play so she asked you directly about how you were feeling about last night. You tried to act clueless but you can not hide these things to Allie or maybe you were too obvious.
“Yeah, it’s true. I was about to accept his invitation but I can’t compete with their fandom. I don't know what to call it” you admitted to your friend.
“No, no! Hold on, don’t do that. Actually Logan does that too, to question his worth but he was clearly interested in you last night” Allie pointed at you. “And sorry but I don’t give a single fuck about the puck bunnies, Logan didn’t seem interested on them”.
“No, Allie. Listen, I can not compete with their perfect bodies, perfect and clear skin, perfect measures, perfect outfits, perfect hair and no shade actually good for them but I just can’t compete with that”. Your impostor syndrome at its peak.
“Fuck it, can’t believe that I’m defending a man but I know Logan and if he wanted like a casual fuck he would just ask the puck bunnies, but I noticed him nervous with you last night and you should had seen his face when he noticed that the whole moment was ruined”.
“I don’t know, Allie. I don’t want to get high hopes, trust me. I’d been in this situation before” you told her but she didn’t ask further. “But if you want the truth, yeah I think that he is really handsome and I don’t know if he’s like a fuckboy but something tells me that he’s been always looking for something or someone bigger than the common boring ordinary life that society expects for him to be, I don’t know if that makes sense” you said.
“100% agree. I can not tell you much about it because it’s Logan’s private life but yeah he’s the one that works 300 times harder than the rest because he knows that he doesn’t have anything secured like Garrett or Dean, I love Garrett and of course I love my boyfriend but they have money or a plan B, plan C, etc in case something happens. Logan doesn’t” Allie turned the conversation more deep.
“He started following me on Instagram and for a moment I thought that he was going to ask for my number by message” you told Allie. “But, again, I don't want to get high hopes”.
Allie just frowned at your words, because she’s a girl’s girl. She wanted for you to understand how amazing you are, like if you could see yourself from their perspective.
—
Now that you told Allie that Logan was actually here, in her room. She was acting like she was still getting dressed so she can give you both some space and time to speak alone.
“I wanted to apologize for last night” Logan didn’t hesitate. “Beau always gets happy with the puck bunnies but I just wanted to let you know that despite they were calling me or waiting for me, I’m not interested” he told you, he saw your surprised face like if he could read your mind because you talked about this with Allie just a few minutes ago. What the hell.
Allie tried not to spy but behind her door she was cheering because she knows her friend, and she knew that Logan was going to act like a man about this. It’s different if you were not used to men being responsible emotionally and aware of their actions.
That took you completely off so you were just digesting his words. Again, not used to men being this mature, especially at this age or when they are the most wanted man in the whole campus so they could perfectly be assholes.
“Uhm, thanks I guess I mean, if we are being honest it’s fine, like- you just won a game and were celebrating with your friends and of course people would like you to be around and, you know, have fun” you wanted to say more but didn’t want to ruin things. “Trust me, it’s not fun being alone in the lab working on a friday night than being at a bar celebrating”.
“But that’s the point, I invited you to our table because I really wanted to talk to you and you only, because with that first impression I was curious about you and your work and the lab and stuff ya’ know?” Logan admitted. Him saying that he just wanted only you last night to be around, you prayed that he is not lying.
You smiled at him. “I admit that I’m not always around as I should but I’m achieving really huge things at med school but at the same time I know that I should go to more parties and I actually love hockey and basketball and I should assist the games and have fun but there is a part of me that is also like a book worm”. You laughed because your dad always makes fun in a nice way that you always should balance your life because youth is so short.
“Yeah, I kinda know that feeling too, like being on the ice and also going to the garage to fix somethings to earn some money because I need to work harder than the rest of the team, but yeah I tried to balance both and it can be exhausting but it makes me feel good, I guess” Logan admitted smiling back at you.
Allie felt that was her queue to step into the living room, she felt that both of you had an amazing moment to clarify things.
“Hi, Lo!” Allie hugged her friend. “Thanks for yesterday for helping me with your orders, I owned you one”.
“Don’t worry, I will trade the favor someday” Logan joked, and Allie noticed the bags he was carrying.
“Did you bring us food? You are the best, Lo” Allie was throwing flowers at his friend so you can notice that he is an amazing person. “But we already had breakfast, I invited y/n over earlier to have breakfast, sorry bud”.
“Oh in that case, you can throw it away if you want but don’t tell Tucker or he will haunt you in your dreams” Logan was not joking, he wished. Tucker hates when the food ends up in the trash, especially his. “I also bring lunch if you want” Logan offered both of you, he looked at you now and said “you should try Tucker’s foods, it’s amazing”.
Allie coughed, like giving a signal to Logan but he didn’t get it. “Yeah yeah it’s amazing, we love Tucker but I remember Dean telling me about a place that you always go outside campus that has the best Italian food in the city” Allie opened her eyes trying to send the message to Logan through telepathy.
You were just there listening, curious about Tucker’s food now. It took Logan a while, poor boy he was a nervous puppy with his puppy eyes having an inner conversation with Allie in his mind.
“OH! Oh, yeah. It’s like a must stop when I drive around the city because Tonya’s recipe is the best. My favorites are the gnocchis” Logan got it. “Have you ever tried that place?” he asked you.
“You should try it, babe” Allie smiled at you, now sending you the message through telepathy. “It’s really good, Dean’s fave is lasagna. He's always like talking about it. You should go, I will join you next time because I have to go to rehearsals before the yard festival”.
“I actually love Italian food” you confessed. Time to make the first move. “We can go there if you are not busy of course, to have lunch” you looked at Logan.
“I’m not busy, I will always make time for a meal of those gnocchis” he laughed, already his mouth watering.
Allie was squealing with joy. “So, you both should go and next time we can all go but I promised you y/n you will not regret this” she encouraged you. “K, my loves sorry but I have to go to rehearsals for the play, if you don’t mind you can continue this talk in the hallway or in the Italian restaurant, not being rude. I’m just late” Allie went to her room to pick her bag and keys to go ahead to the theater department.
So now you and Logan are in the hallway alone, Allie disappeared in 5 seconds.
“Not to brag but lunch’s on me, we can go so you don’t have to eat Della’s today, not to disrespect Della but, we can go and we’ll be still in time for the yard festival” Logan proposed a really fun plan.
You were not expecting this day to have this 180° turn, but you were not complaining. Not at all. “Deal, but first I need to go change if after lunch we are going to immediately arrive for the festival” so you took off your keys to open your room.
Logan was going to wait outside in the hallway.
“Logan, there is no need for you to wait outside. Mi casa es su casa, if you want water or I have also apple juice meanwhile I change” you moved to the side to let him in your room.
At the moment you don’t have a roomie because she graduated so all the space was for you and you only. So in the living room were a lot of things like books, paperwork, some pictures you put in the fridge.
Logan was behind you when you opened the fridge door to offer him something to drink, he was so close that when you turned around you almost crashed into his chest.
“Sorry, uhm, I’m going to get changed. Be right back” you rapidly ran to your bedroom so he didn’t see how red your cheeks were.
Meanwhile he looked around, especially the pictures of you, your family and your friends in the fridge. He read the book titles you had on the couch and some science and med stuff wrote it down in papers.
“You don’t have to change, you already look perfect like that” Logan suggested outside.
Inside your bedroom, you smiled at the cute comment but you changed into a more “date” kinda outfit and quickly applied some makeup and grabbed your purse. You took a last look at the mirror you have in your room and went back to join Logan and leave.
You found him reading the med book you have and you laughed at the picture of him trying to understand a single thing that he was reading.
“Okay doctor Logan, what is your master?” you laughed at his furrowed brows.
“Shit, it’s like reading an unknown language. Thank God it has pictures!” He laughed at how he barely understood one word of a study about the brain. His eyes are still on the huge book.
“Don’t be so hard on yourself, you actually opened the book in the most difficult organ to study, that is the brain” you said. “I’m pretty sure I will be as confused as you with a hockey book”.
He finally looked up at you and suddenly he forgot how to speak. Or speaking of the brain, he got scared for a moment that his own brain might have stopped functioning.
“Wow, you look amazing” Logan said softly almost like a whisper that you still heard.
“Thanks, shall we? I’m actually already hungry” you admitted blushing.
“Yeah, of course. I parked my car outside, give your purse so you can have your hands free” Logan offered, you laughed at his gallantry comment.
You snap a picture of him with your purse to tease him all day. “K, hockey diva” you smiled at him. He laughed and posed for the picture. He guided you to his car.
“No, no! Wait y/n!” Logan rushed to your side, kinda scared you.
“WHAT?!” you asked, thinking there was something off with his car.
Logan opened the door for you and grabbed your hand for you to jump on the seat. “Are you nuts? In my car, you will never have to open the door” Logan winked at you. You wanted for him to stop but at the same time no. Because you are not sure if you were still sleeping and dreaming of such a gentleman, handsome and zero fragile masculinity man.
“K’, sorry my bad. I’m not aware of the rules yet” you said to him once he joined you next in his car. “If you are going to be like my bodyguard, can I at least have your number so I can call you if nobody has opened the door for me?”
“Now you know, you should get used to this princess treatment” another wink from him. “K’,ready? let’s have the best meal ever” Logan started the engine, he gave you his phone unlocked trusting 100% in you to add your number. “Can I name your contact as my personal doctor?” he joked.
“Corny! No! That would be a lie by the way. I’m not a doctor” you claimed.
“YET! You are not a doctor, YET!” he clarified. “What do you prefer? Doc or Princess?” he asked you, eyes on the road but his sightseeing caught you blushing.
“You picked, I will add you as ‘corny bodyguard’ meanwhile” you laughed and put the picture you just took of him with your purse in his contact.
The campus was not that far away from the restaurant and the whole drive you both talked about different stuff with his music playing, a lot of artists in common with you.
Once he parked, you waited for him to run to your side of the car and opened the door to step out, he helped you by taking your hand again and thank god you were comfy in some sneakers instead of heels.
He followed the joke. “Okay, princess secured, we are about to enter the restaurant, 10-4” like he was talking to security. You hit his chest with your elbow, always smiling.
Once inside you both sat down on a comfy cushion, and the owner that knows the guys teased Logan for finally bringing such a beautiful lady while he gave you the menu. Logan picked his usual and you chose the pasta with the special pesto. Logan ordered a portion of cheese and oregano sticks to share and lemonades for both of you.
They were right, it was the most amazing Italian food, you already wanted to come back despite still being sat in front of Logan. It was a generous meal so you were full but still curious about the tiramisu.
“I will pay if you want but I need to order the tiramisu” you suggested Logan, considering that maybe the bill was not going to be the cheapest.
“Once again, are you nuts? Order the whole menu if you want, I’ll pay” Logan already called back the owner to order the dessert. “Write it down as another rule” he smirked. You were full so you asked the owner to just bring one tiramisu to share and Logan was okay with it.
“Oh. my. god” you gasped. “Can I pack this tiramisu and drive to Las Vegas so I can marry this amazing and delicious thing?” you were not joking. Logan just laughed at your reaction, which was the reaction he hoped because yeah, it's so good the dessert.
“I have the same question, actually” he looked at you with his puppy eyes while you took another bite. He was not talking about the tiramisu, tho.
You talked a little bit more to get to know each other better and when you checked the hour, Logan paid the bill and ran back to his car to open your door and drive back just in time for the yard festival.
Before he closed your door, you put your hand on his hand. “Thanks, Logan. For this amazing lunch” you caressed his hand.
“It’s just the first one of many I planned to invite you, like a thousand dates more” Logan when he closed your hands together and gave a kiss to your knuckles.
Your face completely red, realizing you were not dreaming and in fact Logan, the hockey player, took you out on a date. “You promise? I will break Della’s heart when I tell her that she is free to give me food” you smirked at him.
“Promise, gorgeous” he kissed your temple and jumped into the car to drive back to the campus. He is going to respect your times and wait for you whenever you are ready to kiss him. He didn’t want to rush things, he just met you last night but it felt like you were the piece of his puzzle that was missing, and you think the same.
part 1 - part 3 - part 4 - part 5 - part 6 - part 7 - part 8 - part 9
summary: After last night misunderstanding, Logan wanted to talk with his friends about you and asked them how they get to know you and never introduce you to him considering you are his dream girl. God for them that they already have a plan to make amends to Logan for last night. Now he needs to get his shit together, no time to be his own enemy if he wants to get to know more of you.
words: 1.5k.
warnings: mentions of food, Logan in love at first sight or first talk(?), just our boy Logan yearning as always and as he should, mentions of party, cameos of Garrett, Tucker and Dean. Not proofread.
a/n: dynamic-duo birthday party coming next chapter (wink wink), so stay tuned because things are going to get hot and heavy. Hope you like this, let me know if there is a mistake bc English is not my native (first) language. Love y'all. Happy pride month, my loves. Mwha.
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Logan woke up the next morning really early due to being the first one to return to the house and go to sleep. It was going to be a while till his “friends” would be awake, if they are in the house in the first place because most of the time they stay at their girlfriend’s place.
Not to sound jealous, no of course not. But maybe yes.
So to make good use of that time, he went outside for an early run around the campus. It was Saturday so the street was not full of people trying to be on time to their first class of the day.
He didn’t want to be creepy but to be honest, he couldn’t find a reason to be near the med school building. Actually, it is one of the departments he has never been to. Again, no reason to be near there. But right now, he would love to cross paths with you to get to know you more, have a good excuse to talk to you and let you know that last night there was a misunderstanding about the puck bunnies, he was not interested.
He just let himself go and when he noticed he ran for almost two hours. Heading back to the house to have a proper breakfast after that training session, hoping his friends are awake to get the information he wanted to know.
You can always count that Tucker is going to be preparing breakfast for everyone with such care and consideration for his friends.
“Hey! Lo, morning! There you are, I assumed you went for a run so I’m going to make you the best breakfast ever in your life” Tucker greeted his friend.
Logan smiled at him, when it comes to food Tucker does not play. Logan is sure that is in fact going to be the best breakfast especially after running so much.
“Thanks, bro. I’m going to take a shower, be right back” Logan said, taking off his bandana and letting his sweaty curls exposed, going upstairs to take a shower. Thank God Dean is still sleeping, he thought, because Dean is the one who always leaves the bathroom a mess. And today he didn’t want to fix something related to the house.
He took a quick shower and rapidly changed into more comfy clothes before going downstairs when he can hear that Garrett joins the breakfast.
“Morning, brother” Garrett greeted Logan. “Did you go for a run like, really really early?”.
“Morning, bro” Logan hugged him. “Yeah, yeah. I went to bed early yesterday so I took the opportunity”.
“That is good. You kinda disappeared last night” Garrett asked him, making sure everything was okay.
Time of the truth.
“Uhm, yeah, I- I was actually really tired after the game and also-” Logan thought about how to put the correct words together but failed when Tucker interrupted them.
“Okay, so here you have Lo. You are not a picky eater so hope you like it” Tucker put a huge breakfast in front of him that included everything he needed to recover forces.
“But you…” Tucker pointed at Garrett. “You are a picky eater, G. So I did my best” Tucker did the same with Garrett before sitting down with his own plate. He left one ready untouched for Dean.
“Thanks, Tucker” Logan and Garrett said in unison. Hands already on their forks and knives to eat the amazing meal his friend prepared. “Delicious as always” Logan thanked the universe for Tucker’s talent and gesture.
“So, you were saying…” Garrett wanted to get back at what Logan was saying.
“It’s nonsense, maybe I don’t know. I met this girl last night that I never saw before at Malones and she is like the coolest and smartest person and that impression I got just with the 5 or 10 minutes she stayed” Logan explained.
“And the problem seems to be…?” Garrett tried to connect the dots. “She is in a relationship? or she didn’t return the feeling or what?”.
Just in time, Dean showed up to join them for breakfast. “Morning, bitches! Sorry, I was talking with Allie if she felt better after all the people that were at Malones yesterday”.
“That’s exactly what we are talking about” Tucker chews his food.
“Dean, our man Logan needs help. Can you focus and stay quiet for 5 minutes?” Garrett asked him. And Dean whispered sorry.
“I don’t know if she is with someone” Logan exposed one of the hundred questions he had. “The problem was that I invited her to our table and she was about to accept when Beau ruined everything” Logan said.
“OH YEAH BEAU TOLD ME THAT HE OWNED YOU ONE BECAUSE HE MENTIONED THE PUCK BUNNIES IN FRONT OF Y/N!” Dean interrupted Logan again.
“Wait… Y/N?! She’s friends with my girlfriend and Allie. I met her when I started dating Wellsy. She is the coolest actually” Garrett said.
“Yeah, she’s amazing and really beautiful, I saw her the other day by accident in underwear when I was leaving Allie’s room” Dean confirmed.
“YOU TRAITORS!” Logan pointed at them. “Why did everyone know her already except for me, Tucker and Jules?”
“Actually Jules knows her, too” Dean added.
“Not helping, De” Tucker moved his head in a no.
“Well, we didn’t know you were looking for meeting someone or to have a one night thing. We are not mind readers” Dean defended himself.
“Dean, if I wanted a one night thing I would post something on Instagram and check all of the replies of the puck bunnies, which again, I’m not interested in” Logan told them.
“Okay guys, hold on. First we need to know if she is dating someone and if she is not we need to test the waters, we can help you. We got you, Lo” Garrett patted the shoulder of his friend.
“Yeah, I can see the vision of you and her actually. Kind and hot people should be together” Dean added.
They all laughed at how Dean can be sometimes but they love him anyways.
“Beau told me that to make amends with you, he added her to the list with a plus one to our dynamic-duo birthday party” Dean informed his dear friend. “So you better keep up my dear Logan before anyone else approaches her at the party”.
“What? Do you know something?” Tucker asked Dean at the last reference.
“Nope, but come on. The summer house it’s the perfect place to spend the whole night talking, getting to know each other emotionally and maybe physically” Dean winked at Logan.
“Can’t believe I’m saying this but Dean is right. That was the night I fell in love with Wellsy because we talked the whole night” Garrett admitted. “I know that she is like the smartest in her class but don’t be fooled by that, because we can ask the girls for help and also behind all of that Wellsy told me that she is daring so don’t underestimate her”.
“I never did that in the first place” Logan was completely aware, just because you are working hard on your career or other projects doesn’t mean that you can have a normal social life.
“Fine, so Beau and I are going to announce the party today before the yard festival, so you need to make sure she is there to get the invitation and get your shit together Lo, no time to be your own enemy” Dean clapped his hands together to set this conversation.
“K’, I’m still thinking that you are traitors, except for you Tucker of course” Logan joked looking at his friends.
Logan checked his phone, specifically his social media already trying to fill the void that the short conversation you both had. It was not enough for him, but he didn’t want to scare you away.
“Hey, guys! Before you go, one last thing. Don’t tell Jules about this, because they know her and also just saw that Jules and the fifth line follow her too, so not a single word about this to Jules, k?” Logan was dead serious with this because with his sibling in the middle sometimes without malice things can get messy.
“Of course, we are not dumb. Don’t worry” all of the boys already know that too. If you have a secret or a plan, never tell Jules.
Logan returned his attention to his phone when he saw that you posted a note on Instagram that says: finally, the weekend is here. And you added a happy song to celebrate your free days.
He had an idea, he was going to visit Allie to talk about last night and to ask for her help to get you to be there for the invitation to Beau and Dean’s announcement. But before he asked Tucker to pack him some breakfast or if he has something for later like lunch.
And then Logan makes his way to Allie’s place.
--- ---
taglist : @dina2223 @starsnfireflies @kinetictyrantwizard @harrysnovia @05gwyn @basiec13 thank you my loves! <3
part 2 - part 3 - part 4 - part 5 - part 6 - part 7 - part 8 - part 9
summary: the first time meeting Logan at Malones. Everything was going so well until Beau mentioned the arrival of the puck bunnies waiting for him. But Logan now is interested in getting to know you more.
words: 2k.
warnings: our lovely boy Logan, love at first sight I think, mentions of food and alcohol, Hannah and Garrett are already together and the same with Allie and Dean. Beau cameo who ruined Logan's moment, Della cameo. Reader is a med school student and has a lot of friends in common with Logan.
a/n: hi my loves, my first Logan fic, hope you like it. I made this short bc it's just the beginning (wink wink), Logan is my fave so I'm obsessed with him. Not proofread, I just wrote this, let me know if there is a mistake bc English is not my native (first) language. Love y'all. Happy pride month btw <3.
bold and italics = social media messages
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It was a very busy night at Malone’s, something normal even when it was a Thursday night. That’s why your friend Allie hasn’t been able to answer your texts, so the only way was to go over there.
It was so full that night that people started to approach the bar to ask for food and drinks instead of waiting for the staff to go to their tables. And also Della turned off the option to deliver in the apps, just to pick up which means that a lot of people declined because of the laziness to go outside.
“Hey Allie! Can I ask for more nachos and tacos with guac and another round of beers, please?” Logan said to his friend that was doing her best to keep up with all of the orders.
“Gotcha!” Allie gave his friend a thumbs up to let him know that she heard him. So she added the order in the system so the kitchen handed her the food while she fills the glasses with the alcohol.
Logan is going to wait there because he doesn't want his friend to go to their table and do extra work when he can do it, well he will need help with the beers but once all of the order is ready.
While he waited, he just took a look around, watching the people having fun listening to Justin’s band, After Hours. Another group waiting for the photo cabin, people dancing, other just chatting at their tables, etc.
Justin finished the song requested earlier and the bar applauded. “Thank you, guys. We’ll take a break while we receive new requests”.
At that moment, you open the door to enter the bar, the bell ringing that tells the staff that someone just arrived but with all of the noise the bell at the top went unnoticeable, except for Logan.
He looked at you, stepping in the place wearing such a comfy sweater, jeans and a pair of boots. On the other side, you were not looking at or for him. He wondered if you were a new student.
“There you are, diva!” Allie greets you from behind the bar. You get closer to your friend and immediately notice the crowded room.
“Hi, angel” you waved at her. “I’ll wait, don’t worry, I see that you are busy right now”.
Logan just stands next to you looking at the whole interaction, having a thousand questions right now.
“It will be ready in a minute” Allie reassures you, her hands full.
You were about to take a seat to wait when someone talked to you.
“Didn’t know that Allie and Hannah had a new roommate” Logan was thinking out loud.
You just look into his direction, trying to be sure that he was talking to you and not someone behind you or something.
“I’m sorry, what?” you asked to make sure you were 100% sure that his words were for you.
“Oh, my bad. Where are my manners? Sorry. I’m Logan and I’m friends with Allie” he offered you his hand to shake.
“I know who you are, Logan” you said, god he thought that you saying his name sounded like a beautiful melody. “All of you from the hockey team are famous” you explained quickly so he doesn’t think that you are weird for knowing his name out of nowhere. “I’m y/n”. And you took his hand to shake. “And no, I’m not Allie or Hannah’s new roomie, I actually live in the room in front of them”.
Your hands are still together.
“Here you have, diva” Allie snapped you out of the touch of Logan’s hand. “Della said that the soda and dessert are on her”.
Logan and you turned around to look at the place to find Della.
“Thank you so much, Della! I promise when I get rich, you are the first in my spoil list, mwha” you blow her a kiss thanking her for the extra food in your order. Well, actually all of it was on her.
“You better, sweetheart” Della laughed and pointed at you while she was taking a table's order.
Logan found the whole interaction cute, but still confused because it was the first time he saw you and you are friends with Allie and the owner of this place. “Don’t tell me that Della is your roomie” he joked.
You laughed while taking the bag of paper with your food in it. “No, Della has known me since I was a kid, she used to live nearby but still stays in touch with my parents”. You told Logan who was impressed. “So she basically keeps me alive, because if it wasn’t for her I would barely eat because of all of the things I have to do. And also, it’s free”.
“Hey! We won a lot of games and championships and never in my life Della has given me a free meal”. Logan protested, fake offended.
“Lo! your order is ready, help me with the beers?” Allie asked him.
“No no no, stay there. I will call Tucker or Beau” Logan took a look at their table to call one of the boys. Beau made eye contact with him and Logan gave him a sign to get closer.
“Thanks, Lo” Allie told her friend. She changed her attention to you. “So, hope you eat everything and promise me you won’t stay till late working in the lab” she pointed at you.
“Yes, mom. I promise” you joked and that made Logan return to your conversation.
“y/n I’m serious” Allie was not joking. “I know you!”.
“Pinky promise” you smiled at her and closed the deal with your pinkies.
“The lab? What lab?” Logan asked you, he wanted to know as much as possible before you return to this lab Allie mentioned.
“Oh I’m in med school, I haven’t chosen my speciality yet but right now I’m working with professor Carol in this investigation and project so it’s a big deal” you explained to Logan.
“Wow! That sounds incredible, good for you” he was shocked, literally. You never get used to compliments that people throw at you, you just thank them shyly like it’s not such a huge thing.
“She’s literally the smartest person probably in this whole fucking country” Allie told Logan. “I’m proud of my friend” she’s always giving you the flowers you deserve.
“Thanks, bae” you blew a quick kiss to her. Where the hell Logan has been this whole time that he’s just finding out more about the group of girls? Friends of her best friend’s girlfriends, what the hell. He was certainly going to talk with Garrett and Dean.
“So, we are celebrating that we won this game, would you like to join us?” Logan invited you to their table. “I know that you are busy in the lab but if you are not in a rush you can-”.
“Hey, bro. Come on! Give me some beers, the puck bunnies just arrived” Beau appeared out of nowhere.
You looked at the direction of their table and Beau was right, it was full now the table with pretty and thin girls talking to the hockey team.
“Uhm… I actually have to go, but thanks I guess” you answered him with a short smile, trying to escape that place asap.
“Hey! Hi y/n!” Beau just noticed you standing there. Now Beau also knows you, what the fuck. “How are you?”.
“Hi, Beau. Fine, thanks” you nod at the boy and change your look at Allie’s. “Say thanks again to Della, thanks Allie I will text you later” you took all of your things and before stepping out the bar you look at the boys “Bye Beau, bye Logan it was nice to meet you”. You waved goodbye at them.
“Thanks, Beau” Logan gives him a deathly look. Allie is already gone because of all of the work yet to do.
“For?” Beau was really confused.
“I was busy talking with her, and you come and mention the puck bunnies. What the fuck, man?” Logan explained what he just did.
Maybe she was busy but Allie has an incredible earring like a cat, so she heard the boys talking. It was obvious that Logan wanted for you to stay and she knew you very well and recognized something in your face before Beau appeared that maybe you were going to accept Logan’s invitation.
After a couple of minutes you were back in the lab, alone eating your food. Delicious as always. You didn’t know if to call it a night to go to bed or keep working in the lab to try to forget the embarrassing moment.
For a moment you really thought that John Logan, the hockey player, was really interested in meeting you but of course it was not the case.
You could never compare to their puck bunnies, perfect girls with perfect faces and bodies, so you felt dumb for thinking that he really wanted you to join them.
After your meal, you worked for two more hours actually making progress and once you were back in your room you texted Allie that you are safe and sound tucked in bed already.
It was not that late, 11 pm. Allie has like two or three more hours of work so you were not expecting for her to answer. Before bed you always take your book you are currently reading, your goal is at least to read 15 pages.
This one particularly was not that good so you were falling asleep with the book in your hands when a buzz from your phone brought you back, you took it thinking that maybe it was Allie, but no.
In your screen there is a notification of Instagram that said
j_logan22 started following you
j_logan22 liked your story
j_logan22 liked your post
Said story was one you posted about a selfie of you trying on your new glasses you use for reading or for screens. And the post he liked was the last one you published on your feed that was a photo dump about this month including you, the lab, having fun with your friends in a club, a concert, a book shield, selfie with your sibling at the cinema with the popcorn, your pets, etc.
Before you chicken out, you started to follow him back. There is no going back.
He was already back at the house, getting ready for bed when he searched for your user. The rest were still at the bar but after the uncomfortable moment with Beau he drank his beer, ate some nachos and called it a night. So now he’s brushing his teeth when his phone rings once.
In his screen there was the similar notification
yn.xo followed you back
He checked his account and you saw his stories all related to the game and once he posted about tonight’s celebration. And you didn’t want to put a like on it because insecurity still lingers in your head. You think it was cute the last post on his feed about some funny moments with his team.
He also noticed that the common followers you both have are Allie, Dean, Hannah, Garrett, Beau, Malones and THE FIFTH LINE?!
No way that Jules is that quick, maybe they saw you both chatting tonight. That’s why maybe you just saw his stories and didn't like any post because of Jules to jump off with some conclusions. You have nothing against the puck bunnies but you didn’t want to be related as one.
He needs to find a way back to you. This time with no mistakes. Tomorrow he will ask his friends how they got to know you and why they didn’t tell him about you, not to blame them he’s aware how distracted he had been lately with all the stuff in his mind and making peace that he liked the idea of Hannah but she and Garrett are perfect for each other.
18+ smut: reader has been hooking up with garrett, knowing logan can hear everything on the other side of the wall. read the other parts for the full smut.
logan’s pov
it’s hard enough to ignore, especially when she sounds like that. but it’s even worse tonight after every run in we have she’s getting braver.
i’ve done everything to contain myself. i am not that kind of guy. until it’s become clear she doesn’t want me to, and that garrett enjoys it.
we’ve talked about it. trust me, a threesome would not be the craziest thing that’s happened in this house. but something about her is driving me more mad than just plain attraction.
“we’ll be in my room.” garrett told me before they went in there tonight. i almost retaliated with a sarcastic comment like “no shit” but saw the suggestion on his face.
i usually try to be respectful and put on headphones, even though she’s always known we hear her. we make that very clear in this house. but after her flirting, i ditch them tonight. i didn’t expect this though.
her usual gentle gasps start and i’m already rock hard. just picturing her sweet face with her lips hung open in pleasure. fuck– i know i can’t. as soon as i wipe the thoughts out of my head, she gets loud.
there is no usual muffle to the sound. there is no obvious hand covering her pretty mouth or her holding back. she wants me to hear it.
it doesn’t take long for me to give in to the ache as i slip my hand down my sweatpants, wrapping it around my cock.
at first i try to not think of her lips, those swollen ones that leave his bedroom at night, but then i hear a loud “p-please, yes” and it’s over. it’s all i could think about.
the thumping against the wall from their bed sends shivers down my skin, at how close they are and how wrong this is. every thump making my fist grip tighter around my cock, harder and faster as they go harder and faster.
everytime i try to think of anyone else it’s like she’s begging me to hear her. she sounds more beautiful than any porn could ever fake.
i never thought something my best friend would say could ever make me finish, until i hear three words clear as day. “cum for us.” and i lose it. one last pump along side with her orgasm whines, slamming my eyes shut picturing how her thighs must be shaking.
details: pure smut. dirty talk. reader is hooking up with garrett, but knows logan has a crush on her & has been hearing them hookup and doesn’t mind it… part two here
garrett warned you early on how thin the walls are, and hooking up here just means you have to be comfortable with whoever might be hearing you. it is harder than you’d think to keep the volume down when he just knows all the right spots, but it never phased you.
that was until recently… the boys have been teasing you about logan’s crush on you. you thought they were making it up for a while, because he never acts on it. he knows you’re sleeping with garrett and he’d never interfere.
but when you leave garrett’s bedroom with swollen wet lips, blushed face, and smudged makeup- you catch the look on logan’s face in the living room and can’t seem to shake it.
garrett finds it amusing. you’ve tried to talk about it, but you know garrett knows more than he spills and brushes it off. he says it’s bro code. god forbid.
now when garrett’s fingers are toying at your clit, you can’t help but remember logan is right behind that wall. you try to forget about it, but it turns you on even more. i mean, two of the hottest guys in school listening to you orgasm at once… is it so bad to enjoy that?
“you’re thinking about him again…” garrett teases. your stomach flips, feeling exposed which is ironic considering you’re naked underneath him.
“i am not,” you defend, immediately blushing red.
“you get goosebumps every time you hear the slightest shuffle from his room.” he laughs.
“you’re the one who keeps bringing him up! your best friend pop in your head everytime your dick is hard?” you retaliate.
he chuckles at your remark, trailing his hands up and down your bare thighs. some men would take offense to this, snap back with some i’m not gay! insecurity. not garrett graham. he is sure of himself and can take a joke.
he has no insecurities when it comes to his sex life. he knows girls look at all of his friends, this doesn’t intimidate him. you’ve never asked if any of them have ever slept with the same girl before, but it wouldn’t be surprising.
“just remind me one more time you’re comfortable here…” garrett says, teasing his cock at your entrance. you know he loves a consent check, but it feels motivated.
“yes. always. now, please– fuck me.” you say, receiving a cocky snicker from him as he slams into you. he wastes no time knowing how wet you already are and how easily you take him in.
he groans at the feeling and sight of you. his cock fills you with an aching warmth, which you thought couldn’t get better until he started talking.
“for one, i don’t mind the whole house hearing what i do to you. i don’t mind if the whole fucking school knows,” he whispers in your ear.
you try to cover your mouth at the loud whimper you let out at this thought, but he quickly moves your hand away and pins it down into the mattress.
“you know he’s listening… and i know your body. it makes you so fucking wet. it’s okay with me, baby. let him hear you.” he reassures and at that, you officially lost it.
he picks up the pace thrusting into you roughly as you moan loudly, unashamed. the sweet sounds you make puts the cruelest smile in his face. his grip at your hips tightens, pulling you closer to make sure he hits as deep as possible.
“that’s it… let it all out.” he whispers as you whine, letting your body relax into pure bliss. you’ve never let yourself feel like this before, and you feel safe in his hands. even safe enough to think about such a crazy thought of both of them. “you sound so fucking hot.”
each thrust taps the headboard against the wall, making you shiver thinking about the other side of it. as your orgasm comes faster than it ever has, he quickly seals your fate.
18+ minors do not interact | details: enemies, unspoken tension, bickering, dirty talk, rough & filthy but sweet aspects leaving them confused about where they stand, party bathroom hookup, consent is discussed, no specification of protection method so reader can mental insert preference!
usually in stories, the conversation goes… “is he always an asshole?” “it’s not just you! he’s misunderstood. you need to get to know him!” but with john logan, it’s just you.
everyone treats him like the angel of the jocks, as if he’s any different. maybe because he doesn’t parade his hookups on display like dean or that he wears that bright smile instead of garrett’s moody demeanor but whatever the reason, you see right through it.
he’s always been cold to you especially in comparison to the girls that flock to him. anytime you were around it’s almost like he’s too stressed to pay you any mind. you question if it’s because you don’t bow down to the hockey players the way the puck bunnies do, but his reason seems deeper than that.
so the last person you thought you’d end up hooking up with in this party bathroom would be him. truthfully it didn’t take much from either of you tonight. the usual sarcastic banter, a couple eye rolls, him blocking your way to the fridge on purpose with his ridiculously large body just to make you say please…
eventually he came up behind you placing his warm hand gently placed on your lower back whispering “meet me in the bathroom in five minutes… or don’t. up to you.” he says. you originally scoff at the insane suggestion, but when glancing up at his face and seeing nothing but seriousness for a change– your body betrayed you.
now sat on the bathroom sink in a rough makeout session and your legs spread apart… he’s pressed up against you between your thighs. the rough material of his jeans still holding in his hard on and despite your best efforts at grinding forward, his mean grip on your hips controls the pace. he’s determined to make you take it achingly slow and is cruelly amused by the mess he’s making out of you.
he told himself he wouldn’t even kiss you, that maybe that will help him justify this. but when he first felt your tempting lips mumble your first bitchy remark that close to his in a private room now with no one else to talk about it, he needed to devour you and couldn’t stop. he knew you’d tease him about your lipstick all over his as soon you were done but he didn’t care. if anything, that drove him further.
for two people fully dressed still, the room sounded like a desperate mess. thank god the music outside was so loud that nobody could ever hear the breathy gasps caused by the bucking of your hips against him both fighting for friction and control of the other. his gripped in your hair yanking every time you tried to take over, keeping you in your place.
if you didn’t know any better, you swore you heard a “beautiful” slip as he nibbled down your neck but the feeling was too intense to process right now. his teeth surely leaving marks, clear payment for all the talking back you do to him around his friends, but his lips graze soothingly for forgiveness over the aching skin quickly after– a confusing feeling that made you shiver.
he laughs at you desperately working to unlock his belt “you need it that bad, huh?”
“god– shut up and hurry up before i change my mind.”
to this comment, he grabs both of your hands and pins them firmly above your head making you go silent and bright red. staring deep into your eyes with his forehead against yours, you feel more naked than ever despite being covered.
“cute… well, this is how this is going to work. if you want me to stop, you say stop. and-”
“i don’t need the sex lecture.”
“well considering your bratty mouth, i’m not expecting you to say anything nice so i need to know you know the real word to stop. fuck you, shut up, your usual miscellaneous insults i won’t let phase me. are we clear?”
you huff nodding quickly wanting the intense eye contact to be over, even though you know he’s doing the right thing. you can’t even think for half of a second that he’s a good person or that he’s doing this for any reason other than boredom, it’ll ruin all of this. so bare minimum thought at best. he raises an eyebrow at you unsatisfied by the lack of words in response which makes you finally say “stop means stop… now can you please fuck me?”
“atta girl… see she does have manners.” he snickers rewarding you with his fingers teasing along your wet folds, making you sigh in both pleasure and relief hearing him finally undo his belt buckle.
“stay like this. i want to see you take it.” he says, wrapping your legs around his back and lining himself up. this surprised you as you expected him to turn you around without needing to even look at each other.
his large hands cup around your face persistent to watch your expression as he sinks deep into you, eyes fixated on your mouth parting, unable to hold back his cocky smirk as you whine out at his length. he pushes fully inside and remains still making you sink into the feeling of him for a minute. “that’s it… take it all.”
“m-move. fuck. aren’t you taking a break from being an asshole?” you plead at his stillness.
“never said all that, but you’d think you’d watch your mouth considering… well…” he taunts, before moving one rough thrust at a time between his words “who’s– in– charge.”
you try to cover your squeal with your hand, but he quickly removes it and holds it back yet again. he keeps the grip on you to help his now relentless thrusts pick up the pace. “what’s the matter? worried someone’s gonna find out you’re letting me fuck you like this?”
his arm wraps around your back where it meets the mirror to soften the banging from his thrusting, at least spare you from a couple marks after the number he did on your neck. he does his best to position himself to where he can cause the least discomfort for you, but still get deep enough to make you squirm. “r-right there, fuck.” you cry at his angle.
“yeah? you like getting fucked like this? such a good girl.” he says picking up the pace, fighting his own moans. he moves one hand to your clit rubbing in small circles, pulling you closer to your orgasm.
“you drive me so fucking crazy…” he mutters breathily, leaving a warm kiss on your forehead. you were already close, but this ruins you. you know his ego is going to do something ridiculous like pull out if you cum without telling him and right now the feeling is too euphoric to care about looking desperate anymore.
“logan–”
he’s almost startled by how gently you say his name for once. “…yes?”
“m’so close.”
“and?”
“please let me cum.”
“see you can be so good. just needed to get put in your place, yeah? cum for me. make a mess all over me.” he coos in your ear, bringing your orgasm rushing.
watching you cum around him with your walls clenching tight is enough, but the harsh tug on his hair from your fingers curled tight in the strands is what does it… this sends him quickly over the edge. watching his eyes flutter shut in pleasure before hiding his head in the crook of your neck.
before either of you can catch your breath, the sound of your phone vibrating on the counter makes you jump. you realize immediately it’s your friends looking for you. reality sinks in that you have to go downstairs and forget that john logan just ruined you on a random stranger’s sink. expecting a smug comment and preparing yourself for the rumors you’re about to hear when he flaunts the fact he managed this out of you, all he says is “i won’t tell anyone… just go enjoy your night.”
john logan letting his frustration out on you but you’re too cock drunk to function
warnings: 18+, smut, fem!reader, p in v, oblivious logan does not know how good he feels lol
“and he comes onto the ice, all brooding and angsty,” logan narrates as he pounds into you, holding your legs up towards the ceiling.
“then he misses all my passes! can you imagine?” he asks you. “he misses. three. shots.” each word punctuated with a mean thrust and emphasized by a squelching sound.
you’re so far gone—it’s amazing you can even comprehend half of the things he’s telling you. a breathy moan escapes past your lips with every drag of his heavy cock entering you.
“and worst of all, he has the audacity to give me shit about contacting his dad,” logan continues, pulling out of you for a moment to adjust his grip on your skin.
“no!” you cry out from the loss of contact.
“i know right?!” he replies, mistaking your eagerness for empathy.
he pushes back into you easily and your toes curl in appreciation, “oh, logan, that’s—”
“evil, right?” logan responds, working up his pace again. “i mean, i know he’s my best friend, and that actually makes me feel worse for saying all this, but garrett’s just been acting like such a prick.”
he’s stuffing you full of his cock, you can feel him in your guts, “mm…that feels so…so…”
“conflicting? yeah,” logan sighs, letting go of your leg to push his hair back. “it is. i wanna help him but he’s really not giving me any reason to.”
he holds you by the back of your thighs and presses your legs into your chest, “i don’t know. what do you think i should do, pretty?”
“deeper!”
logan tilts his head in pensive reflection as his thrusts leave your legs shaking. “a deeper conversation with him? hm, i could try that…”
“yes, more! more!”
“you’re right. we should talk more.“ he agrees. “garrett and i just fight and get mad at each other all the time now.”
your mouth hangs open, drool collecting at the corners from the delicious friction between your bodies. despite his oblivious state, logan still manages to comply with your requests.
“fuck!” you exclaim when his thick tip hits that special, gummy spot inside you.
logan grunts, “yeah, fuck that guy.” his efforts double as his frustration boils up again. he continues to bully that precise spot deep within you over and over again with tantalizing accuracy.
“don’t stop, logan. please, please, please—”
“i know,” he sighs, his relentless pace never once faltering. “i’ll keep trying. i need the team to connect if we wanna win this.”
“so close, so close…”
“yeah, we are,” logan confirms with newfound determination evident in his hips. “just a few more games to go. the hawks are gonna make it to the finals and we’re gonna bring home the championship.”
“yes, logan! fuuuck!!”
he does not even realize that you’re cumming around him. he hasn’t a clue despite your back arching off the bed, your thighs trembling, and your tight pussy walls milking him dry.
only when you collapse back against the sheets, your body falling limp and your lips heaving for breaths to force into your lungs, does logan finally blink down at you.
