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MidReal Story
Howlett
Scenario:Logan Howlett (base him off of old man Logan in the Logan (2017) movie, just him, nothing else.) comes home in the summer to his cottage after a long day of limo driving, to his wife baking a pie after she made dinner, lasagna, the windows open and the smell wafting through. Her name is Mallory. she has freckles all over. She's wearing a cute apron, her blonde hair is in a bun, and oldies is playing on the radio as she swings her hips. He feels a surge of love towards her, and he loves this domestic life. He comes up behind her and wraps his arms around her waist, kissing her neck and rubbing her arms. he loves her so much. she's very sweet and gentle, and loves baking for him. their house is very cozy and cute, because she decorated, and he loves it because she did it. he spoils her and loves bringing her gifts. he worships her. detail their cute moments together. be very VERY detailed. make it long like a novel. just add random cute moments between them to make it longer. the house is vintage. one day, Logan invites his guy friends over to watch football, letting Mallory know after. and she's super excited. Logan is very protective over her. when the guys get there, they're stood in the living room, all talking, when Mallory brings in a plate of cookies, looking absolutely gorgeous, in Logan's jersey and a pair of leggings. Logan turns, and he just falls even more in love. she offers everyone a cookie. the guys are mezmerized by her, and think that she's absolutely beautiful, detail them meeting her and what they say to her, Logan thinks so too, but is protective. they love her, and treat her like a goddess. he pulls her close to hide her from their view. detail what she says. he's so soft with her and affectionate. detail the conversation they have. When they're watching the game, Logan's snuggled up to Mallory, twirling a strand of her hair around her finger. all of the guys make fun of him for being so soft, and he gives them a look that could kill before immediately softening upon looking into her eyes, he begs for kisses, his voice low, and she presses soft kisses to his lips. his friends are in awe at how easily she can soften him. Logan would much rather be alone with just her right now. she tries to follow whats going on, and even roots for Logan's team, even if they're losing, detail what she says, and Logan's heart is just so fuzzy. detail all dialogue. he is always very sweet to her and he is only soft around her, and very rude to everyone else, only nice to her. Logan generally only likes to hang out with Mallory. he's really mean to everyone else. detail everything they both say. make him ACT like Logan in the Logan (2017) movie but very sweet to her. one day, they're on a picnic. Mallory is in a sundress, her hair down. they're on a picnic blanket, having fruit and ham sandwiches. Logan just loves her so much, and he reaches out to trace her freckles with his thumb, telling her how beautiful she is. detail what he says. she leans into his touch. he then starts to feed her fruit. make it all make sense and flow well. make it a story that makes sense and don't mention the tips i gave you in the story. he is so soft with her. detail everything. she's very gentle and wise, and quiet, but very intelligent. he tends to be very insecure about himself. one day, they're in bed snuggling, while watching one of Mallory's favorite movies, Logan begins kissing all over her face. her nose crinkles, and he thinks its so cute. he cups her cheeks, and squishes them. she gets flustered, and closes her eyes, and he just keeps praising her softly, telling her to open her eyes sweetly, when she does, he calls her a good girl, she loves when he calls her that, she practically melts. detail everything and add things too to make it more realistic. Make it known that Logan is canadian by his speech, but DON'T overdo it. DON'T mention any details I told you in the story. use correct grammar. Logan speaks a bit improper and is very rude to everyone but Mallory, he talks softly with her. add random stories of their life. be detailed. Mallory is quite chubby. be gramatically correct. make it like an actual story. add cute moments between them too. add a lot. he cusses a lot. he calls her cute nicknames. One morning, Logan goes to get up for work on a stormy morning, not wanting to leave, but Mallory pulls him back down, snuggling against his chest, mumbling his name. he kisses her, telling her sweetly that he has to go, and she sleepily tells him to stay, his heart melts, and he can't deny her, so he agrees, and stays all day, he gets back in bed and holds her, rubbing her back and pressing slow kisses to her lips, detail what he says. detail everything. he's so sweet to her. make the dialogue realistic. feel free to tweak it and not do exactly what i said. add things. he's so loving towards her, an overall green flag. he is a very good husband. he loves snuggling with her. Mallory only calls him James or Jimmy, because James is his actual name. Mallory never calls him Logan except infront of other people. he makes everyone else call him Logan. make the dialogue throughout the whole story very long and realistic. make the dialogue REALISTIC. nothing unrealistic. he treats her so lovingly. Mallory is bubbly and sweet. make everything make sense. please make the story flow and be VERY detailed. like a lot of detail. like detail everything that happens. Mallory is always happy. make the story be good. make him act like Logan Howlett from the Logan 2017 movie, down to his mannerisms and all, but he's so soft with Mallory.
Create my version of this story
Logan Howlett
He is a limo driver who cherishes his life with his loving wife, Mallory. He is devoted, gentle, and sweet. He adores Mallory, treating her like a goddess and being incredibly protective of her. He struggles with his insecurities, especially about his appearance, but feels confident when Mallory is around. He enjoys spending time with Mallory, doing household chores, and taking her on dates. He loves watching football with his friends and is always eager to please Mallory.
Chris
He is one of Logan's friends working at the shipyard alongside James. He is humorous, outspoken, and a bit rowdy. Chris enjoys making light banter but respects the bond between Logan and Mallory. He joins James in teasing Logan about being a "romantic caveman" with Mallory but appreciates the warmth seen in their relationship. Chris contributes to the friendly camaraderie among the workers and participates in their lagoon shipyard activities.
Hank
He is another worker at the shipyard friends with James and Chris. He is laidback, sarcastic, and supportive. Hank often participates in lagoon shipyard work alongside James and enjoys their friendly banter. Although he tends to join in teasing Logan about his romantic demeanor around Mallory, he values the affectionate atmosphere among the workers at the shipyard.
I pull up in my driveway after a long day of driving rich dudes around in my limo.
I can’t wait to see my wife.
I pull my sunglasses off, hanging them on the rearview mirror before shutting off the car.
Walking up my long driveway, I’m anxious to get inside.
It’s the middle of summer, and even though the sun is setting, it’s still warm out.
I reach the top and see that all of the windows are open.
That’s my wife, Mallory.
She’s always opening windows.
Even in the winter, I swear she has this obsession with fresh air.
I can’t complain; it’s cute as hell.
When I walk inside, the first thing that hits me is her amazing smell.
Whatever the hell she’s baking, I’m about to pass out from her sweetness wafting through the air.
"Hey babe," she says, looking up from what she’s doing at the counter.
Just like in the spring, her freckles are back in full force covering her beautiful skin.
Her blonde hair is piled high on top of her head in one of those messy buns that sexy as hell women wear.
She’s wiping her hands on a cute little apron that’s covered in pink flowers.
There are two strips of white that tie around her neck, giving a slight glimpse of her cleavage.
I move closer to her, taking in her scent of fresh-baked pie mixed with her vanilla perfume.
The kitchen counter is dusted with flour, and there are bits of apple peel curled on the cutting board beside her.
She turns around to face me, still swaying slightly to the music playing from our old radio.
Her cheeks are flushed from the heat of baking.
I reach out, brushing a smudge of flour from her chin.
My hand lingers there for a second before I pull away.
The evening sunlight streams through the window, catching the gold highlights in her hair.
Moving behind her, I wrap my arms around her waist.
She’s warm from working with the pie dough.
She doesn’t stop what she’s doing, but she leans back into me with a contented sigh.
My rough hands slide down her flour-dusted arms, leaving trails in the white powder.
The radio plays softly in the background, the afternoon sun streaming through the kitchen window.
Her skin is soft under my calloused fingers as I brush away a loose strand of hair from her neck.
She tilts her head to the side, exposing more of her freckled skin.
I press my lips to the soft skin of her neck, feeling her pulse quicken beneath my touch.
My hands grip her waist tighter as she tilts her head further, giving me more access.
The radio plays softly in the background while the sunlight streams through the kitchen window, casting a warm glow across her face.
She pauses in her pie-making, flour-covered hands resting on the counter.
A small gasp escapes her lips as I trail kisses up to the sensitive spot behind her ear.
Her whispered words, "Welcome home," are the only sound that matters.
I rest my forehead against Mallory's, breathing in her familiar scent.
My calloused thumb brushes the flour from her cheek while my other hand stays firm on her waist.
The kitchen counter presses against her back as she faces me, her blue eyes meeting mine.
The pie sits forgotten beside us, half-assembled.
Through the window, a breeze carries the scent of summer flowers from her garden.
Her hands, still dusted white with flour, come up to rest on my chest.
I lean closer, my hands still resting on her waist.
The kitchen counter presses against her back as she tilts her face up to mine.
Flour dusts her apron and hands, leaving white marks on my work shirt where she touched me.
The radio plays softly in the background while afternoon sunlight streams through our kitchen window.
My voice comes out low and gravelly, "I missed you."
She smiles, her freckles catching the light before I close the distance between us.
I watch her reach for the rolling pin, her movements graceful despite the mess of flour around us.
Moving beside her at the counter, I place my larger hands over hers on the wooden handle.
She guides my grip, showing me how to apply even pressure to the dough.
The pie filling sits ready in a bowl nearby, the apples releasing their sweet scent into the air.
When she laughs at my clumsy attempts to roll the crust evenly, I purposely bump her hip with mine, sending a small cloud of flour into the air between us.
Her laughter fills the room, a sound more comforting than any words could ever be.
I rest my chin on Mallory's shoulder as she finishes crimping the pie edges, watching her skilled fingers work the dough.
The kitchen's warmth and her closeness make my chest tight.
She hums along to the radio, her body swaying slightly against mine.
When she reaches for the egg wash, I grab it first, holding it just out of reach.
She turns in my arms with a playful huff, flour smudged on her nose.
I brush it away with my thumb, studying how the setting sun highlights each freckle on her face.
I pull back slightly from our embrace, taking in her flour-dusted features in the fading sunlight.
Her blue eyes sparkle as she gazes up at me, hands still resting on the counter behind her.
The radio plays softly in the background while the scent of baking apples fills the air.
My thumb traces over her freckled cheek, wiping away a smudge of flour as I lean down toward her.
She tilts her chin up expectantly, a soft smile playing at the corners of her mouth.
I press my lips against hers, tasting the sweetness of the apple filling she sampled earlier.
Her flour-covered hands leave prints on my shoulders as she pulls me closer.
The kitchen timer ticks steadily behind us, marking the minutes until the pie is done.
Through the window, crickets start their evening song while the oven hums in its steady rhythm.
Mallory sighs contentedly against my mouth, and I deepen the kiss, one hand cupping her cheek while the other stays firm on her waist.
She melts into me, completely trusting.
I break our kiss reluctantly, keeping my hands on her waist.
The timer ticks on, and we both glance toward the oven, where golden light spills through the glass.
Mallory's cheeks are flushed from our closeness, flour still dusting her skin.
She reaches for the oven mitts hanging by the stove, but I grab them first, gently nudging her aside to check the pie myself.
"Wait," Mallory says softly, her hand catching my wrist.
"There's something I need to tell you before we take this out."
I pause, searching her eyes, and ask, "What is it, Mal?"
I stand there, frozen at her words, my rough hands still gripping the oven mitts.
The kitchen timer ticks on behind us as the golden light of evening streams through the windows.
My throat tightens as I watch her fingers fidget with the flour-dusted apron strings.
She's never said those words before - we've shown our love in a thousand other ways, but hearing them spoken aloud feels different somehow.
The sweet scent of the pie wafts through the air, mingling with the tension between us.
I set down the mitts and step closer, my calloused hand cupping her freckled cheek, my thumb brushing away a smudge of flour.
"I love you too, Mal," I whisper, sealing the moment with a promise.