saturnlee05

[saturnlee05]

Eyes Don’t Lie

18+, Minors DNI

pairing: logan howlett x reader — an ungodly amount of angst, mutual pining, friends to lovers, smut

warnings: language, alcohol use, smoking, sexual thoughts/scenes, self-destructive behavior, elements of su!cidal ideation/behavior, accident-related trauma, death (mentioned, not described i promise), general angst — this is really effing dark

summary: logan has known you for a while, but only started getting close with you a few months ago. now, he’s noticed your self-destruction is worsening, and so does logan’s concern as you inch closer and closer to the deep end…

a/n: this one’s really dark, so if you’re sensitive to any of the above subjects (in the warning), i recommend not reading this one. if you’re strapping in for the ride, be prepared: this one’s long, dark, angsty, and oh my god the ending is just *chefs kiss*

“Take it easy,” Logan said, pulling the bottle of Jack away from your mouth and out of your hand. You sat on the couch in the living room of your apartment, feet kicked up on the coffee table, leaned back with a lax posture. You glared up at Logan, who set the bottle down next to your feet and stared right back. “I think you’ve had enough.”

“Yeah, sure,” you scoffed, grabbing the pack of cigarettes off the table and pulling a flame through your fingertip. Putting the foul-smelling thing between you lips, you held your finger to the tip of the cigarette and lit it. With a quick, deep puff, you blew smoke straight into his face, making him turn his head away and sigh. “Like you’re one to talk.”

“What the hell’s goin’ on with you?” Logan asked, sitting in the chair diagonal from you, elbows on his knees and his fingers interlocked. He leaned forward, his brows scrunched together by concern, glancing up at the faded scab on your forehead. “You’re not you lately.”

“Meaning?”

“You’re drinking a lot-“

“And you don’t?”

Shifting his eyes to the side for a moment, he brushed off your spiteful comment. “And you’re smoking now? C’mon, bub, you know what I mean. Don’t pretend you don’t know what I’m talking about.”

“What, are you my fuckin’ parent now?” You raised an eyebrow.

“Y/n-“

“You know what, why don’t you just get the hell out if you’re gonna be such a fuckin’ buzzkill?” You cocked your head to the side, challenging him.

“Fine,” Logan stood with a huff, glaring down at you. “I will.” Logan hurried to the door with rage tensing up his shoulders. He walked out, slamming the door shut behind him and leaving you to your thoughts.

~~~

“What do you mean, ‘you don’t know?’” Logan barked, storming after Charles down the hall.

“I mean, I can’t tell what she’s thinking,” Charles answered, continuing down the hall and into one of labs. “I can’t get in her head somehow and I’m not sure why.”

“There’s gotta be something we can do. She’s on a downward spiral and I can’t get through to her.”

“If you can’t, how do you expect any of us to?” Storm chimed in, sliding down off one of the tables. Logan shot her a cold, side-eyed stare, his muscles tightening in anger. “I’m just saying. Of all of us, she talks to you the most.”

“That’s because she’s in love with him,” Jean added, standing in the doorway. Logan turned to her, his eyes softening but his brows still curled. He didn’t know what she meant. “What? You can’t tell me you didn’t know that.”

“Literally everybody knows that,” Storm added. Looking back at Storm, she could read the look on his face plain as day. “You didn’t know?”

Logan’s head raced with thoughts, memories of all his moments with you where, yeah, he should’ve known. One night, about two months ago, you were both at your apartment, sitting on the couch watching tv. Back when you were still, well, you. There was a half-drunk bottle of Jack on the coffee table, this time belonging to, and drank mostly by, Logan. He had had his arm splayed across the back of the couch with you curled up next to him, your head resting on the side of his chest. You looked up at him through your lashes, a sweet smile tugging at your lips. When his eyes shot back down at you with curiosity, you quickly looked away, your cheeks feeling warm as quick breath escaped you.

“What?” Logan asked with no specific tone of voice. You could feel the deep vibration of it on the side of your face through his chest. When a few moments passed without an answer, Logan repeated his question. “What is it?”

“Nothing,” you smiled, refusing to look him in the eye again. He would catch on for sure. This way, he would remain blissfully unaware that you were crazy about him. Just being this close to him, leaning on his chest the way you are, your heart is racing. Your head is filled with thoughts of him, your heart overwhelmed by the sound of his voice so close to your ear. The smell of liquor and rich tobacco radiated off of him, but not too strong, the delicate texture of his t-shirt over dense muscle, the beat of his heart just barely visible at the base of his neck. You wanted nothing more than to stare into his dark hazel eyes all day long, but you knew the look you were bound to give him would give it all away. He would know everything. He would know how you only stumble on your words around him, how he makes you heart race, how you’re intoxicated by his smell, how every time you’re in the field you’re terrified that, despite the fact that he can heal from anything, someday he won’t come back. How he fills your dreams at night, whether they’re about losing him, or about his lips on yours, his hand trailing down to your waist and sneaking just his fingertips under your shirt, squeezing just enough to pull you flush to him, your hand snaking up the back of his neck and into his hair, him kissing you fiercely, a cloudy haze filling your brain as he lifts you up onto him—

“You’re nervous,” Logan stated, leaning away so you’re forced to look at him or give yourself away as a liar. Your heart dropped, then raced harder like it was running out of time. You kept your head down, but your body faced him. Your eyes would tell him everything. The eyes don’t lie. Not yours, anyways.

“No-“

“I wasn’t asking, sweetheart,” he said. You unwittingly shook your head and breathed a laugh out of your nose. “What’s funny?”

“You,” you looked up at him, cocking your head to side in a playful manner. “You don’t ask, you just know,” you mocked.

“You know what-“

“What?” You sat up more, playful.

“You’re just-“

“Yeah?” You swiftly pulled a pillow out from behind you and smacked him with it. He held his forearm up defensively, a smile inching its way onto his face.

“Hey!” He shouted, grabbing his own pillow and swinging it your way. You jumped off the couch, followed by him, ready to take him down with the throw pillows he thought were so stupid when you bought them. ‘What’s the point of a pillow you’re not supposed to use,’ he had said. With both hands, you tossed the pillow at his face as a diversion to your real intention— tackling him to the floor. With a little air knocked out of him, a big fat grin appeared on his face as he quickly threw you underneath him and strategically pinned you to the floor, his forearm just barely touching your neck to keep your head down.

“Rude!” You exclaimed with a smile. Logan chuckled, a smirk flashing down at you and your heart jumped. God, was he sexy. You just wish you could tell him that. He stood up, offering you a hand which you quickly took. He pulled you from the floor, and suddenly your face was only inches from his. You could feel his breath on your cheeks, his eyes peering into the deepest parts of yours. You held your breath for a moment, wanting nothing more than to throw yourself at him and kiss him ‘til your face hurts, but instead just standing there.

“Hungry? I’m in the mood for a burger,” Logan said, taking a small step back and waiting on a response. You motionlessly shook off your nerves enough to answer.

“Me too.”

“You didn’t know?” Storm’s question echoed in his head.

“No,” Logan replied gruffly. His face hardened with worry and self-frustration.

How had he been so blind to it? All this time, he never thought you’d want him the way he wanted you. He wanted to see your smile everyday for the rest of his life, but he kept it to himself so you wouldn’t leave him. He wanted to hold you when you had bad dreams, make you breakfast in the morning, and as stupid as he’d always thought it was, he’d bring you flowers because he knew you would love it. He wanted to show you how much he loved you, through gifts, through his actions. Through taking you to your room and laying you down gently, taking his time to kiss every inch of you so you knew he appreciated each and every one. But he couldn’t He could deal with just being your friend as long as it meant keeping you around… right? Guilt, shame, anger, and everything else he’d ever felt in his life hit him all at once, like a truck hitting a stone wall at maximum speed. All of it was written on his face.

“No, I didn’t.”

~~~

Back at your apartment, you remained rotting on the couch, a multitude of cigarette butts laying in the ashtray and the bottle of Jack in your hand again. You stared mindlessly at the tv, your eyes void of any feeling or thought. But your head, your head was full of thoughts. Thoughts of the crash. No one knew except for you about what had happened that night.

You were carelessly driving home from the bar after a few drinks, thinking you’d be fine for the five minute drive home. You grabbed your phone off the passenger seat, staring down at a text from Logan: ‘can you talk right now?’ Despite your confidence in the fact that this was probably regarding the drunk voicemail you’d left him two hours ago at the bar. You were smart enough to not drive home right then, but now you felt like you could. But the semi-sober shame hit you as you read his message.

Sitting on the couch, you remember every word of that message, not that it mattered now.

“Heyy Logan…. I juss wanted to call you cause-” you hiccuped. “I juss… I want you d’know that I really like you- cause like, you’re a really great friend, ann I’m sometimes notsogreat… but I love you and… oh my god I didn’t- I’m sorry, this is probably a lot. I’m sorry, I love you as m’friend and also-“ you hiccuped again. “-like not… y’know? I’m sorry, what ‘m tryna say is maybe we could sh-talk, er something, like later maybe… I don’t know, can you juss call me back? Or come to my apartmenn when I get home… ‘m not driving, by the way, I’m uhh… sorry, again, I’m sorry. Um, yeah.”

You remembered staring at Logan’s contact picture, but you don’t remember the light turning red. That’s the only thing you don’t remember. Something massive crumpled the front end of your car, you lurched forward only stopped by your seatbelt. You cursed god for letting you remember it that night. You wished you hadn’t. Tires screeched, and sound of metal tumbling down the street in front of you will never be erased itself from your mind. Some of it only exists in flashes, quick frames of the steering wheel as your head smacked it, the other, smaller car driving perpendicular to you, the faint screams of its passengers, the car rolling sideways.

You remembered jumping out of your car, dropping your phone on the seat with Logan’s picture still on screen, and running to the other car. You bent down to look through the upside down window, looking at the passengers’ terrified faces. ‘Is everyone okay?’ you asked. Stupid. You set your hand on what should be the underside of the car, though it was facing the sky at this moment, and instantly lit the whole thing up. You jumped back at the sight of the flames, and the passengers started screaming.

The last moment you really remember is getting back in the car and fleeing— only once the screaming stopped. Your phone was ringing, and Logan’s picture reappeared on screen. You sent it to voicemail and turned it off, throwing on your nightstand when you got home and fell into bed.

You lifted the bottle of Jack to your mouth again, drinking it like water until the last of it was gone. You looked down at your phone now as it started vibrating on the coffee table. Logan. You laughed soullessly, then swiftly threw the bottle at the tv and both the bottle and the screen shattered. You launched yourself toward the tv and began swinging your fists into the already-broken screen. You swung, and swung, and swung until blood ran between your fingers and started pooling on the carpet.

~~~

The closest Logan’s ever gotten to just telling you how he feels was in your apartment, unbeknownst to him, the night before the accident. You were laying in your bed, Logan beside you with his arm around your shoulders. He felt so comfortable with you, part of im wishing you were already together and he just didn’t know. To anyone else, that’s what it would look like.

You were laughing at whatever the hell was on tv, Logan didn’t know, nor did he really care. He was just happy to be laying next to you. You looked up at him, the tv light making your eyes shimmer just enough for him to fall just a little bit more in love with you. You could have sworn you saw some loving glimmer in Logan’s eyes in that moment, and he swore that you were looking at him like that through your lashes on purpose. He leaned his face just barely closer, and you did the same. He took a breath, forcing himself to be brave and just seal the deal right then and there.

In a blink, his lips connected with yours, a fire roaring through your belly like nothing you’ve ever felt before. Logan felt stupid for needing to be brave in this moment, your lips just felt so natural against his, like you’d done it a thousand times. He gently held your face in his hand, leaning in further and deepening his kiss. You instinctively leaned back, letting Logan’s wide frame tower over you on the bed. A deep groan rumbled in his chest, feeling so good to finally kiss you and have your hands tangled in his hair. He let one of his hands trail down your side, sliding onto your leg and lifting it by the back of your knee so it lay flush against his side.

For a moment, you felt so good, and everything felt right. You felt a long-aching throb hit your core, wanting more from him. This was everything you had ever wanted, everything you’d ever imagined it would be like. His hands felt the perfect kind of rough on your delicate skin, his dog tags grazing your neck in a way that made our head spin. The tip of his tongue barely touched your bottom lip, asking for more. All you wanted was more, god, please, more.

Suddenly, Logan broke away from your lips, letting go of your leg and pulling his hand away from your face.

“Fuck, I’m sorry,” he said in a hushed, shameful tone. “I shouldn’t have- I’m sorry… I-… I have to leave.”

He stood up and grabbed his jacket off the corner bedpost closest to the door, trying to leave before you could get a word in. “Logan, wait-!” And he was gone.

~~~

“Hey, pick up the phone. Where the hell are you?” Logan said after getting sent to voicemail a third time. “Answer your damn phone. Please!”

He ended his message and slammed his hand into the steering wheel. He’d already been to your apartment and you were nowhere to be found. There was broken glass everywhere, a cigarette in the ashtray still burning slowly, empty bottle everywhere, and a thick trail of blood from the living room carpet that led into the bedroom and over to the bathroom. The bathtub was full, the water tinted red with what was probably more blood, and water all over the floor like you’d gone in the tub still wearing your clothes. Logan’s heart broke at the sight, knowing that wherever you were, you were not in the headspace of someone who had any intention on going back home.

His heart raced as he sped down the boardwalk-adjacent street, desperately looking out at the water trying to hopefully catch a glimpse of you somewhere- anywhere- within a few minutes walking distance from your apartment complex. Logan knew you couldn’t have gone far if your cigarette was still burning, so he drove the streets nearby in anxious search of you.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a dark figure just walking out of the lamppost light of the boardwalk. He slammed on the brakes and jerked the car onto the side of the road, throwing it in park and dropping the keys on the seat as he jumped out. “Y/N!!” The figure stopped- it was you. Logan ran towards you as you kept walking, headed straight for the dock. With a faint splash, Logan panicked when you vanished from his view. He bolted as fast as he could- an inhuman level of speed- and dove straight off the dock into the ice cold water.

~~~

“So, what? Water hurts you?” Logan asked, taking a quick drag off his cigar and you stood together outside of your usual bar. You stood next to him, both of you leaning against the wall, his jacket slung around your shoulder because, you being you, had forgotten to bring your own for after sunset when the cold hit. A few weeks before the accident, the two of you had done what you usually did- go to the bar and talk.

“Well, think of me like a match,” you said, tiny flames rising from your fingertips as you lifted your hand in front of you for you both to see. The light glimmered in small, almost invisible specks in Logan’s eyes. He was intrigued by it, the undeniably human instinct of curiosity towards fire drawing his head just barely noticeably closer. “You put a match in water…” The flames blew out into streams of smoke. “It gets burnt back.”

“Wait- then how do you shower?” Logan asked, genuinely interested in your answer. You scoffed playfully and smacked his arm just below the hem of his shirt sleeve.

“Dude- really? Your first thought is about me in the shower?”

“Not what I meant,” Logan replied, giving you a look that said, ‘really’. You rolled your eyes at him, pulling his jacket closer around you.

“Short answer: quickly,” you told him, your eyes falling to the floor. Logan tilted his head down and sideways to look at your face, his face softening as he looked down at you. You’d wished he’d put an arm around you to turn you towards him. You wished he would lift your chin so you’d meet his gaze. You wished he would just kiss you, push you into the wall of that dingy little bar with his hand in your hair so your head wouldn’t hit the wall. You wished he would just put his mark on you right there, kissing you with utmost passion, wrapping his other arm around your waist and pushing his body flush against yours.

You wanted him to take you to his car and throw you into his backseat, to eager to go anywhere else. To put his mouth back on yours and tease your bottom lip with his tongue as he pulled his own shirt off, tossing it to god knows where. To peel his warm jacket off of you and expose your arms to the chilled air in his car as his body heat alone fogged up the inside of the windows. He’d grab your waist and pull it up to his, pushing it right back down with is hips, all the while fogging your mind with his kiss. He’d pull at the bottom of your shirt, slowly dragging it off of your body and breathing across your jaw and down your neck until his mouth connected with the sensitive skin right by your ear. Your stomach would already flutter, your whole body sensitive to even the slightest touch. You’d shudder as he kissed his way back up to your lips, and you’d let out the smallest cry when he’d grab your waist again.

“And the long answer?” Logan asked, snapping you out of your thoughts and back to where you really were— leaning against the outer wall of the bar, still wrapped in his jacket as he stood beside you. Damn your thoughts. You were just friends, that’s it. No way in hell would he ever think those things about you- but you wish he did.

“It stings, that’s for certain,” you said. “But it’s not too bad as long as I’m not fully submerged. That feels like being set on fire, as ironic as that is, coming from me.”

~~~

Logan gasped for air when he finally resurfaced, one arm holding you up while you were completely limp in the water. He dragged you back up onto the dock, praying you weren’t dead. “Come on, dammit, breathe.”

You laid there on your back, your clothes soaked down to our skin, your hair slick with salt water. You looked so peaceful, the most peaceful that Logan had seen you in over a month. He dropped a fist onto your chest, forcing a little water from your throat out onto your face. He paused for a moment, swearing to whatever god there was that if they didn’t bring you back, he’d kill them. Logan felt like he was dying inside. You kept laying there, not moving, not breathing, not even twitching a muscle. Nothing.

“Come on!” He shouted. Still nothing. He screamed, slamming his fist into the wooden dock and jabbing his claws straight through it. “Dammit, dammit, dammit!!” He yelled, stabbing a hole through the wood each time he said the word. “FUCK!!”

His heart dropped into his gut. With the scraping sound of metal, his claws disappeared back into his knuckles and he stumbled to his feet. As soon as he stood up, he fell back down onto his knees and held his stomach as he wretched over the edge of the dock into the water. This couldn’t be real. He couldn’t lose the only good thing he’s got in life. You made every day worth living for him, you were his everything. Everything he did, all the good and all the regret for the bad, it was all because of you. You were his whole world. He was so deeply in love with you, he felt like he was being ripped apart from the inside out at the thought that he was losing you.

Logan ran a hand through his wet hair, pulling it back away from his face. Streams of water ran down from his scalp and burned his eyes, turning them a right shade of red as they filled with tears, and not just because they burned. He stumbled on his knees back to you, gently lifting you into his lap and cradling you against his warm chest. Your whole body was cold, unnervingly cold. You didn’t feel like you anymore, you just felt empty out him. Like there was nothing left and all the you had been scooped out and what looked like you was just hollow. Logan squeezed his eyes shut and pressed your head into the crook of his neck, hoping to bring some semblance of heat back into you.

“Please,” he prayed. He whispered the word again and again, holding you impossibly closer to him.

Sputtering and spraying water from your mouth, you coughed and opened your eyes.

~~~

You woke up face down on your bed, exactly where you’d fallen asleep late into the night, the midday sun peering in through the curtains and warming your cheeks. You’d almost forgotten the events of the night before, until you felt your shoes still snug on your feet and the stinging gash in your forehead. There was blood on your pillow- now you’d have to wash your sheets. The sound that had woken you from your sleep repeated, three loud thuds on the door to your apartment. You rose from your bed, stretching out your aching back as you dragged your feet to the door.

The lock clicked as your extra set of keys unlocked it from the outside, the door opening right as you reached and Logan entered. Upon seeing you standing in front of him, Logan’s shoulders dropped their tension and his face softened just enough to be noticed. He rushed to embrace you, resting his chin on the top of your head, mumbling thanks to god that you were okay. You just stood there and let him hug you, not doing or feeling anything.

In your head, you wanted to be pissed at him for leaving you two nights ago and not taking your calls since then. You’d spent those nights in the bar, drinking away the thought that he didn’t want you like you did, when in reality, he thought he was taking advantage of you. You didn’t know that.

“What the hell happened last night?” Logan asked, pulling away to look at you, but keeping his hands rested on your shoulders. “You left me a- very drunk- voice message and then you didn’t answer me. I thought you were dead in a ditch somewhere.”

“Logan-“

“And what happened to your car- no, your face!” Logan exclaimed, noticing the sizable cut down your forehead. He began trying to usher you to your bathroom, but you brushed his arm off of you and stood still. “Come on, let me get that cleaned up.”

“Logan!” He stopped in dead in his tracks. You’d never yelled at him like this before, not in this tone. Something was wrong, he knew that. “Can you get out, please?”

He furrowed his brows, never having once been asked that by you before. “What-“

“Get the hell out!” You yelled.

His faced dropped cold, and without a word, he left, slamming the door behind him.

~~~

The rest of the night happened in a blur. You have vague memories of flashing lights. Charles’ and Storm’s voices. Strangers talking next to you- or to you? Logan shouting at somebody, ‘You’re fucking useless, doc!’. Somebody grabbed your hand-

You swung a fist, hitting some poor, innocent nurse. You looked around, your vision foggy, seeing a tray of medical supplies next your hands. That nurse was trying to fix your hands. You looked down at the fist you hit her with, your knuckles were oozing blood again. More hospital staff rushed in, some helping up the nurse, and the others forcing you back down onto the bed.

You tried yanking yourself away from them, screaming despite how much your throat and how hoarse your voice was. You broke free for a moment and ran straight into the glass door, your vision so clouded that you couldn’t tell it was closed. You yelled out in pain, catching the attention of an anxious Logan in the hallway. He rushed to the door as the nurses threw you back onto the bed and began trying to cuff you to the bed.

“Hey, get the fuck off her!” Logan shouted as he pushed past them all to get to you. You swung at him, wailing hoarsely as you did only for Logan to catch your arm and use it to pull you into his arms. You struggled against him as he sat down, only holding onto you tighter until you slowly stopped fighting him. Tears streamed down your face as you coughed, your throat dry and burning from how raw it’s become. Logan ran one hand down the side of your head, his other arm wrapped tight around you. You leaned into him- he was so warm- and let your hot tears soak into his shirt as everything went black again.

~~~

“I’m taking her home, now,” Logan stated, staring down your doctor as Storm stood beside him with Charles close by.

“Logan”

“Storm-! No,” he cut her off. “She’s done being stuck in here. She’s been here a week already in some fuckin’ psych room and she’s going home. I don’t care what this fuck’s gotta say about it. She’s going home.”

“She’s-“ the doctor said nervously, jumping slightly at the death stare Logan was giving him. “She is clear to go home, but she needs someone to be with her to make sure show won’t be a danger to herself. She’s still mentally fragile.”

“She’s not fuckin’ fragile,” Logan growled. “Give me the damn papers.”

~~~

Two nights back at your apartment, you and Logan were stuck to one another like glue. You still couldn’t say much as your vocal cords were still strained, but all you wanted was for him to be wrapped around all day and night. And he did exactly that. He refused to leave your side.

On your third night home, Logan took you to the shower, much to your dismay. “Logan,” you croaked.

“Y/n, please,” Logan pleaded. “Just let me help you. Please.”

As you undressed, Logan faced the door, letting you get in the shower without his eyes on you. This isn’t the way either of you had ever pictured him seeing you bare for the first time. After the curtain closed, Logan heard a faint hiss, causing him to rush across the small room and peek around the curtain, keeping his eyes only on the back of your head. You turned your head towards him, looking at him with begging eyes. Without a second thought, Logan climbed into the shower fully clothed. He didn’t care about the water soaking through his jeans and shirt or filling up his boots. All he cared about was that you were taken care of.

Reaching around you with his head turned away, he grabbed the shampoo bottle and dumped a glob into his hand, massaging it into your scalp. He did the same with your conditioner, and only let himself wash your back, still only focused on your face or the wall. Making sure you were rinsed completely, he let you shut off the water when you were reading, your skin red from the sting of it. Logan stepped out, his boots soaking the shower mat while he blindly handed you a towel, waiting until you pulled o his arm to turn him around.

“You need one too,” you said quietly, handing him another towel from the two hooks nearby. He smiled softly, stepping out of his boots and ruffling his hair with the towel. As he peeled off his socks and discarded them on the edge of the tub, he glanced up at you with gentle eyes.

“You know I don’t have any clothes here,” Logan joked, though it was true. You offered a light smile back at him, grateful that despite him now knowing what you’d done, he still wanted to stick around. You didn’t even care that in this moment, he could see all the raw emotions in your eyes, your endless love for him glowing. As he pulled his shirt off, he kept smiling down at you, the same glow in his eyes reflecting back at you.

“Logan-“

“Y/n, wait,” Logan interrupted softly. He threw the towel over his shoulder and gently held your shoulders in his hands, ignoring the goosebumps that rose under his touch. “There’s something I gotta say first. And I’m sorry I didn’t say it sooner, but dammit I-…”

You looked at him with soft, curious eyes. God, he wanted to say it so bad and this was the less-than perfect moment to say it, but that face. He couldn’t not say it when you looked at him like that. The words froze to his tongue, but he clenched his teeth briefly and braced himself to say it.

“Logan, I love you-“

His lips on yours silenced you, his hands gliding up onto either side of your face, your ears tucked between his thumb and pointer finger. Your hands held onto his thick torso, pulling him closer as he kissed you harder. “Fuck,” he groaned, your fingers pulling his belt undone. You tossed it to the floor and Logan’s hands lifted you from the backs of your thighs, your legs wrapping around him, but awkwardly squashed by your towel. Effortlessly, Logan walked you out of the bathroom, still kissing you like he would never stop, as if you ever wanted him to.

Already in your bedroom already, Logan sat on the edge of the bed with you in his lap. He snaked his hand around to the center of your bare back, the other pulling you further into his lips by the back of your head. He groaned again, pulling away from the kiss when he felt his jeans tighten.

“Y/n,” he said, his voice soft but deep. “Do you want me to stop?”

“Never,” you answered, leaning back in for a kiss, only for him to pull away further.

“Wait.”

“Logan, I want this. Please. I want you.”

“I know,” he said, his eyes darkening with lust, but still gazing lovingly at you. “I just wanted to say something… I love you, too.”

He pressed his lips firm to yours, quickly teasing your lower lip with his tongue then gently biting it. He shamelessly moaned when you let the towel slide off you completely, leaving you naked before him for the first time while facing him. Tracing your curves with his hands, Logan was eager to see what he’d been missing, but patient enough to let you let him see it. You leaned to the side, letting Logan know you wanted to lay back, and he gently turned you over until he was above you. He still hadn’t looked yet, so caught up in the fact that he was kissing you again.

“Logan,” you whined between breaths, reaching for the wet waistband of his jeans, tugging the button free and pulling the zipper down. He got the message, swiftly stepping out of them and finally pulling away from your lips and looking down at the sight before him.

“Fuck sake,” he growled, his boxers tightening more. “Woman, you’re gonna fuckin’ kill me, y’know that?”

Quickly wrapping your legs around his waist, you surprised him by pulling him back down on top of you. His hands explored all the new places on your waist and legs and chest that he had seen. He wanted to just touch all of you, feeling every inch of your skin forever. You shivered under his fingertips, your hips pulling themselves upwards as if they were magnetized to his. Logan’s head tilted back in pleasure at the feeling, a quiet moan slipping from your mouth. That’s all it took for Logan’s mind to cloud up completely with the thought of fucking you.

He stripped himself of the last of his clothes and pulled your naked body up the bed until your head was resting on the pillows. “God, I just want to tear you up right now. But I’m gonna take my time with you, cause I want this to be perfect.”

You tangled your fingers in Logan’s hair, pulling his mouth back down to yours with haste, wanting him to cut straight to the chase. His dog tags dragged softly along the center of your chest, grazing your breast just enough to elicit another moan from you. As soon as the sound escaped you, Logan was inside of you, just enough for you to feel him and set your belly on fire with need. You bucked your hips up again, only for Logan to pull the little bit that was inside of you right back out.

“Darling, I’m getting there,” he smiled, tucking your hair behind your ear. “Just gotta get you warmed up to me first.”

“Logan, please,” you begged. God, he just wanted to push all the wat into right then and just go all night until you couldn’t walk, but he knew he couldn’t do that yet. He wanted to take his time with you. “I need you. Please.”

He leaned down further, his facial hair grazing your cheek and his cold dog tags resting on your breast completely. “I’m going to show you just how long I’ve wanted this,” he whispered into your ear. “And I’m gonna go slow. I want it to be perfect… for you.”

A chill ran down your spine as he pulled his head back to look in your eyes as he gently pushed the tip back in, your whole body sensitive enough that you could feel every nerve ending. Your hands gripped his hair tighter, causing him to push all the way in and your eyes to roll back for a moment. He moaned loudly, his forehead dropping against yours as a bead of sweat already rolled down his temple. Somebody let out a mumbled ‘fuck,’ and Logan began slow, deep strokes.

As he struggled to keep his hips slow, he focused on your neck, trailing kisses and small bites across every inch of it he could reach. His hips accidentally jolted as deep as he could go, eliciting a loud moan from you, causing his eyes to go dark and his hands to gently pin your wrists on either side of your head. You clenched your fingers into fists, not being able to touch him driving your nerves crazy. Logan snapped his hips again, leaving long pauses of him just sitting deep inside of you between strokes, both of you unable to contain all the noises you siphoned from one another.

“I’m gonna go faster now, okay?” He said, asking for permission which you granted through a dazed nod. He let go of your wrists and picked up the pace, forcing your body to curl up against his until you were chest to chest. With a gentle swoop, your were on his lap again and you sank onto him impossibly deeper.

He bucked up into you, hitting that sweet spot inside of you that made your hips roll instinctively. From there, you both became desperate to go faster, and Logan went hard and deep. He hit that soft spot over and over until a fire roared inside of you, begging to let go.

“Let go, sweetheart,” Logan told you, pulling gently on your hair to leave love bites on your chest. He scooped the curve in your back closer, hitting that spot at a new angles and causing you to collapse on top of him, all that fire and tension falling apart in a sweet release that melted your brain.

Logan guided you quickly back down onto the bed, never letting up on his pace, still hitting that spot until tears welted up in your eyes from how sensitive you’d become. Logan groaned with each thrust, silencing himself by kissing you again, his tongue finally letting itself all the way into our mouth. His kiss was more needy this time, his need to breathe coming quicker now between connections. Suddenly, he pulled away and pulled almost all the way out, leaving just the tip inside of you again.

You whined at the near-emptiness, tightening around what was left of him just slightly. At the feeling, Logan let out a deep breath, closing his eyes and letting his head tilt back in pleasure again. “You’re gonna kill me, woman.”

He pushed right back in again, picking up his previous pace again in a millisecond. You cried out, the burning sensation coming right back as you neared that blissful high again. Your arms wrapped under his arms and onto his shoulder blades, gripping him so tight until your nails began to dig into his back. He moaned very audibly at the feeling, shoving his tongue back into your mouth just the enough to keep you wanting more. You curled up towards him again, and he picked up the pace until he was pounding into you and rocking the headboard into the wall over and over and over.

You felt the tension wind up again, and Logan could feel you tightening around him again. He yelled out at the feeling, which brought you to another high, your areas washing over you again. Logan felt the grip you had on him, not just with your hands, but everywhere. He cried out again at how good it felt to be inside of you, gripping him so tight that he felt like he couldn’t breathe, and he loved it.

“Oh-… fuck- where?” He growled.

“I don’t care- oh!” You screamed from pleasure, a third high hitting you like a ton of bricks, barely letting you comedown from the last one. Logan cried out again, his hips faltering and shaking as he released inside of you, the feeling more blissful than anything he’d ever felt before. His claws shot out into the mattress as he finished, but not drawing your attention from the pure pleasure that flowed in waves through your body. His hips stopped, but he stayed inside of you when he collapsed on top of you, drawing his claws back in.

“Holy- fuck,” Logan groaned, lifting himself off your chest as you both gasped for air. He looked down at you with loving eyes, stroking the top of your head to push the sweat-stuck hair off of your face. He smiled bigger than he ever had before, and you returned one just as big.

“Logan?”

“Yeah, sweetheart?”

“You owe me a new mattress.”

You both laughed, and Logan pushed all the way back into you. You moaned lightly again, looking at Logan with a questioning glance.

“Oh, honey, we’re just getin’ started.”

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