Night Terrors And Novelties

“Night Terrors and Novelties”

Summary: Logan's nightmares make him fear he's killed Wade, but Wade always wakes up and reassures him he's staying.

Logan’s eyes snapped open in the dead of night, the familiar darkness of the room closing in around him like a suffocating shroud. His heart was pounding, breath coming in ragged gasps as the remnants of his nightmare faded, leaving a deep, gnawing dread in their wake. His hands were cold, and he realized, with a sinking feeling, that his claws were already out, stained with blood.

No, no, no… not again.

His gaze fell to Wade beside him, his body still, the sheets soaked red. Logan’s breath caught in his throat. For a second, he was frozen—he couldn’t move, couldn’t think. He had done this. Again.

He wrenched his claws out of Wade’s chest, his hands trembling as he backed away, the metallic tang of blood filling his nose. “Wade… Wade, wake up,” he rasped, his voice barely a whisper, cracking under the weight of his panic. His heart hammered in his chest like a war drum, each beat louder than the last. “Please… don’t be dead.”

But Wade didn’t move.

The seconds stretched on, each one a lifetime of guilt, fear, and self-loathing. Logan felt his stomach twist painfully, his chest tightening until he could barely breathe. Memories of past mistakes, past losses, crashed down on him like a wave—Jean’s lifeless face, Mariko’s broken body, the countless others who had paid the price for getting too close. And now Wade…

“No, please… God, no…” Logan whispered, his voice broken, choked with emotion. He sank to his knees beside the bed, his hands gripping the edge of the mattress so tightly his knuckles turned white. He hadn’t felt this kind of terror in years, this raw, primal fear that he was a danger to everyone he cared about, that he was destined to hurt them, to destroy them.

He reached out, hesitating, afraid to touch Wade, to confirm what he already feared. But then Wade gasped suddenly, a ragged breath filling his lungs, and his eyes fluttered open. Logan’s heart lurched, relief flooding through him so violently it nearly brought him to tears.

Wade blinked up at him, disoriented, before a familiar, pained grin spread across his face. “Oh, great,” he wheezed, voice strained but still laced with that damn humor. “Didn’t know I was auditioning for a remake of Psycho tonight. You got me good, Logan.”

Logan’s breath hitched, and for a moment, he couldn’t speak. He felt the tears sting his eyes, and he turned his head away, ashamed. “Wade… I thought… I thought I killed you.”

Wade chuckled softly, though it came out more as a wheeze. “Nah, buddy. You’ll have to try a little harder than that.” But when he saw the look on Logan’s face—the fear, the guilt—his smile faltered. Wade’s expression softened, a rare seriousness settling over him.

He reached out, his hand brushing Logan’s, blood still seeping from the wound that was already starting to close. “Logan,” he said quietly, “I’m okay. I can’t die, remember?”

But Logan’s shoulders sagged, his eyes glassy. “Doesn’t matter,” he muttered, voice thick with emotion. “I still did this. I still—hurt you.”

Wade sat up slowly, wincing a little but never breaking his gaze from Logan’s. “It’s not your fault. You didn’t mean to. I know that.”

Logan shook his head, his jaw clenched, his breath coming out in harsh, uneven bursts. “Doesn’t change anything,” he said, his voice low, haunted. “Every damn time… every time I close my eyes… I see them. The ones I couldn’t save. The ones I—” He broke off, swallowing hard. “And now… you.”

Wade’s face softened even more, his usually flippant demeanor replaced with an uncharacteristic tenderness. He scooted closer, ignoring the pain still radiating from his chest. “Logan… listen to me. I’m here, okay? I’m here, and I’m not going anywhere. You don’t have to carry this alone.”

But Logan’s eyes were distant, his hands still trembling. “I can’t… I can’t lose another person, Wade. I can’t wake up one day and find out that I… that I killed you for real.”

Wade’s grip tightened on Logan’s arm, pulling him closer, his voice firmer. “You’re not gonna lose me. Not like this. I’m tougher than I look. And besides,” he added, his tone softening again, “I’d come back just to haunt your ass if you did.”

Logan let out a hollow, bitter laugh, but the fear didn’t leave his eyes. Wade’s thumb brushed gently over Logan’s knuckles, trying to steady the shaking in his hands.

The next few nights, it happened again. And again. Logan would wake up in a cold sweat, claws out, eyes wide with terror. Wade would stir moments later, a groan escaping his lips as he sat up, his chest or side or shoulder freshly wounded but already healing.

Each time, Wade would pull Logan close, repeating, “I’m here, I’m okay,” until Logan’s breathing slowed, until the tension in his muscles eased just a fraction. But Logan’s eyes always held that haunted look, the one that said he was reliving every nightmare, every failure, every moment where he’d been too late to save someone.

One night, after another episode, Logan sat at the edge of the bed, his face buried in his hands. Wade watched him, his heart aching in a way that wasn’t caused by his healing wounds.

“Logan,” Wade whispered, leaning forward, “you’re still here too. You’re still fighting. And I know it’s hard… but you’re not alone in this. You’ve got me.”

Logan’s shoulders shook, his breath coming out in ragged gasps. “But what if I lose you?” he choked out. “What if one day… I’m not fast enough?”

Wade slid beside him, wrapping his arms around Logan’s shoulders, pulling him close. “You won’t,” he murmured. “And even if you did, I’d come back. I always do. For you.”

Logan didn’t respond, his eyes shut tight against the tears threatening to fall. Wade held him tighter, whispering soft reassurances, staying with him until the sun began to rise, and the nightmares were just shadows fading in the light.

But even in the daylight, Wade could see the sadness in Logan’s eyes, the way he carried his grief like an open wound. And all Wade could do was hold him, hoping that maybe, just maybe, he could keep the darkness at bay for one more night.

And so, they sat there in the quiet of the morning, Wade’s hand never leaving Logan’s, his voice a steady, soothing murmur in the silence, promising over and over again that he wasn’t going anywhere, no matter how many times Logan’s fears tried to say otherwise.

I can’t figure out how to use the read more option sorry😅

Okay so.

What if Logan had a nightmare episode where he wakes up all claws out and stabbing Wade in the chest.

What if he forgot that Wade can’t die from that?

What if Wade didn’t wake up straight away and Logan panicked thinking he’d killed another partner?

But when Wade wakes up, very much not dead, more just huffy that one of his stupid novelty shirts got ripped than anything, and Logan just has to hold him for a little.

Wade kinda realises after this happens more than once of why Logan panics, and so after a few recurring incidents, Wade comforts him, reminds Logan that he’s okay, that he’s still there no matter how many times he gets skewered.

I dunno I think the angsty fluffy potential of that is good

When It Hurt

Summary: Logan cares for Wade during a painful episode, showing him he’s not alone.

Wade was slipping.

The pain felt different this time—worse. It crawled under his skin, dug into his bones, and wouldn’t let go. He had stopped keeping track of the days, the hours. Time blurred into one endless stream of hurt, and the only constant was the hollow ache deep in his body as it rebelled against him. His healing factor, usually his greatest weapon, was failing him tonight. Every cell felt like it was tearing itself apart.

He couldn’t move. Couldn’t think. He was cold. So cold that his teeth chattered, even as sweat dripped down his scarred face. His body lay sprawled on the floor of his dingy apartment, too weak to rise, too stubborn to call anyone for help. Not that anyone would care, right?

The door creaked open, but Wade didn’t lift his head. He couldn’t muster the strength to react, not even when the familiar heavy footsteps approached. A low sigh cut through the silence, and then that voice, rough as gravel.

“Wade.”

Logan.

Wade’s breath hitched, his body convulsing in a painful shiver. He wanted to say something, crack a joke, but all that came out was a broken whisper. “Logey…? Thought you… swore off visiting my… beautiful face.”

Logan didn’t answer right away. Instead, he knelt beside Wade, his gruff demeanor softening for a moment as he took in the sight of the man lying before him—pale, trembling, and looking more fragile than Logan had ever seen him. Wade was always larger than life, hiding behind endless wisecracks and masks, but now… now he looked small. Vulnerable.

“Christ, Wade. What’ve you done to yourself?” Logan muttered, his brows furrowing. His hands were steady as he gently touched Wade’s face, checking for fever. Cold as ice. “You’re freezing.”

Wade let out a weak laugh, the sound hollow and brittle. “Yeah… I’m a walking popsicle… catch me while you can.” His lips quivered, his voice breaking at the end. He hated this—hated being weak in front of anyone, especially Logan.

Logan didn’t bite at the joke this time. His focus was on getting Wade off the floor, his hands moving with surprising gentleness as he hooked them under Wade’s arms. “C’mon. We gotta get you warmed up,” Logan grumbled, lifting him with ease. Wade’s body was limp, too drained to protest.

The mercenary let out a faint groan as Logan guided him toward the couch, his muscles spasming with every step. It hurt. It all hurt. But he didn’t want Logan to see it—didn’t want to let anyone see how much it hurt.

“Logey, if you wanted to… cuddle, you could’ve… asked,” Wade slurred, trying desperately to keep up the act.

Logan just shook his head, his jaw tight. He laid Wade down on the couch, careful not to jostle him too much. Wade could feel the warmth of Logan’s hands lingering on him even after he pulled away. A shiver wracked his body, and his teeth chattered violently.

Logan grabbed a blanket from the back of the couch, covering Wade with it. “You’re a goddamn idiot,” Logan muttered, but there was no anger in his voice—just something that sounded almost… sad.

Wade stared up at him through half-lidded eyes, his vision blurry. “Yeah, but you… you love me,” he whispered, his breath catching on the last word.

Logan froze for a second, his expression flickering with something unreadable. Then, without a word, he disappeared into the kitchen. Wade could hear the sound of cabinets opening and closing, water running. His body ached, the pain throbbing in every limb, but for the first time in days, he wasn’t completely alone.

Logan returned a few minutes later, kneeling beside the couch with a steaming mug in one hand and a glass of water in the other. He pressed the glass to Wade’s lips, helping him drink. Wade gulped down the cool liquid, grateful for the relief it brought to his parched throat.

Logan watched him, his brow furrowed with concern. “When’s the last time you ate somethin’?”

Wade blinked, trying to remember. The days had bled together, but he couldn’t recall the last time he’d had anything besides a few sips of water. “Who needs food when you’ve got… cancer couture?” he rasped, but the joke fell flat, the usual spark missing from his voice.

Logan’s hand tightened around the mug, and for a moment, Wade thought he was going to snap. But instead, Logan held the mug up to Wade’s mouth, his touch so gentle it almost felt like a dream. Wade sipped slowly, the warmth of the broth spreading through his chest, taking the edge off the freezing cold that had settled deep in his bones.

“You’re not invincible,” Logan said quietly, his voice rough but soft. “I know you act like you are, but… this? This ain’t a joke, Wade.”

Wade’s breath hitched, a lump forming in his throat. Logan didn’t talk like this. Logan didn’t do feelings. But here he was, sitting beside Wade like a goddamn guardian angel, watching over him with that stubborn look of his.

“Hey… don’t… don’t get all mushy on me, Wolvie,” Wade whispered, but the usual sarcasm was gone. His voice cracked, betraying him. “I’m fine… always fine.”

“No, you’re not,” Logan snapped, but then his tone softened again. “You don’t have to pretend with me.”

That hit Wade harder than any bullet or blade ever had. He closed his eyes, swallowing hard against the sudden wave of emotion that rose in his chest. The pain was still there, sharp and all-consuming, but so was something else—something warmer, something that cut through the icy numbness that had settled over him.

“Why do you care?” Wade asked, his voice barely a whisper now. His eyes fluttered open, meeting Logan’s steady gaze. “Why… do you always come back?”

Logan didn’t answer right away. His expression was stoic, but Wade could see the tension in his jaw, the way his hand gripped the edge of the couch like he was holding something back. Finally, Logan spoke, his voice low and raw.

“Because you’re not alone in this,” he said, his eyes never leaving Wade’s. “No matter how much you act like you wanna be.”

Wade’s breath caught in his throat, and for once, he didn’t have a joke. Didn’t have anything to say to that. Instead, he just let the words settle, let the warmth of Logan’s presence wrap around him like the blanket tucked over his shaking form.

Logan stayed by his side, not moving, not saying another word. He didn’t have to. Wade closed his eyes, feeling the heaviness in his chest start to loosen, just a little.

It still hurt—God, it hurt so much—but with Logan there, it was bearable. He wasn’t fine, not by a long shot. But he wasn’t alone.

And for now, that was enough.

“Instant Connection”

Summary: Logan and Laura visit a library where Laura instantly senses a connection between her dad and the friendly librarian, knowing they’re meant to click.

(Technically, this is a part two to the library smile)

Logan had promised Laura he’d take her to the library after their latest mission—nothing too intense, just a simple in-and-out that somehow ended up with Logan covered in mud and Laura sporting a new tear in her jacket. A quiet trip to the library felt like a fair trade.

As they stepped inside, Logan immediately noticed the cozy warmth of the place. The scent of old books and fresh coffee hung in the air. He felt out of place, with his rugged appearance contrasting against the library’s calm ambiance. Laura, however, darted off with purpose toward the children’s section, her favorite place to be on these trips.

Logan wandered through the aisles, trying to keep an eye on Laura while scanning for anything that might catch his interest. That’s when he saw you. You were behind the front desk, your head buried in a book, your fingers gently flipping the pages. You looked up briefly, catching his gaze. Logan quickly looked away, feeling a little embarrassed, but he couldn’t help the small smile that tugged at the corner of his mouth.

Laura, who had been observing her dad from behind a bookshelf, noticed the way Logan kept glancing in your direction. A knowing grin spread across her face. She had never seen Logan this… distracted. Curious, she approached you, tugging at your sleeve gently.

“Excuse me, miss,” Laura asked, her voice sweet and innocent. “Do you have any books on, um… special families?”

You smiled warmly at her, nodding. “Sure thing, sweetheart. Follow me, and I’ll show you where they are.” As you led Laura to a nearby section, she asked, “Do you like working here?”

You chuckled softly, “I do. I get to meet a lot of interesting people. And I get to help people find stories they love.”

Laura’s eyes sparkled with mischief as she asked, “Like my dad?”

You glanced over at Logan, who was now pretending to be interested in a random shelf of books. “Is that your dad?” you asked, your eyes lingering on him a bit longer this time.

“Yep!” Laura replied proudly. “He’s a little rough around the edges, but he’s a good guy. Likes reading… sometimes.” She shot a grin back at Logan, who was watching with a puzzled expression. “Maybe you could help him find a good book. Something to help him relax?”

You laughed softly. “I’d be happy to try.”

Logan, sensing he was being talked about, slowly approached, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. “Sorry if she’s bothering you,” he mumbled.

“Oh, no bother at all,” you replied, your smile wide and inviting. “She’s quite the charming little helper. She thinks you might need a good book recommendation.”

Logan raised an eyebrow at Laura, who just gave him a cheeky grin. “Yeah, well, she might be right about that.”

You chuckled again and handed him a book. “Maybe start with this one. It’s got a bit of everything—adventure, a little romance, and some good old-fashioned heroics.”

Logan took the book from you, feeling the warmth of your hand linger on the cover. “Thanks… I’ll give it a shot.”

Laura, standing between you both, looked back and forth, her grin growing wider by the second. She nudged Logan’s leg with her foot, whispering loudly, “Told you she’s nice, Dad.”

Logan’s cheeks flushed ever so slightly. “Yeah, kid, you’re right… She is.”

And in that moment, Laura knew. She saw the way Logan’s usually guarded expression softened when he looked at you, and how your smile seemed to brighten just a little more when you spoke to him. She didn’t need any more proof. She knew her dad had just met someone special.

Requests are Wide open😗

oooo I got a worst Logan blurb for you if that’s okay. But Logan with a new girlfriend that treats him like he’s her absolute world. Like maybe they’ve been dating for a few months, enough for it to be serious, and they’re both involved in each other’s lives pretty significantly. But she just really cares for him, genuinely, and not to overwhelm him, but he’s the background on her phone, and she’ll put him first compared to other important things in her life. Just super sweet and fluff. Feel free to change anything, thank you

Absolutly!!! I love this Idea!!!!

Whole World

Logan Howlett x fem!reader

Logan loved coming home. Even better, he loved having a home to come to in the first place, and he loved his girlfriend that was so freshly living with him that her boxes were still unpacked, and several heavy ones were still in his truck bed.

Logan calls your name, and within a second he hears the pitter patter of your feet running, scampering down the stares and around the corner.

"LOGAN!!!" You're face brightens immidiatly and so does his day. You looked so cute, little blue jeans peaking out from under a big shirt, and mismatched goofy socks on your feet. You run to him, and Logan doesn't hesitate to pick your up and spin you around.

"Heya baby, how was your day?" He asks when he settles down, staying carrying you. Your legs lock around his waste as he takes you to the kitchen.

He sets you down on the counter. "Good! Got a lot unpacked, Sorry, I meant to have dinner ready." You pout, but he just chuckles, reaching around you to turn on the oven.

"You were busy, don't be sorry. Besides, I can cook too."

"You're making frozen pizza, aren't you?"

"Always." He grabs a pop tart packet.

You whine a little. "You need real food! You work hard."

"So do you, baby." Logan plops the pop tart in your mouth. "Now, talk to me while I 'Cook.' Been wait'n all day to hear your voice."

So you did. As the pizza cooked you watched as he nailed some pictures to the walls, nodding his head and occasionally making little comments, even as you caught him up on the newest episode of the bachelorette.

"I can't believe Tyler did that." He played along with your chatter. He was really so perfect. Your loving man did so much for you, he was your everything. He worked hard, did all the silly romance stuff like buy you flowers and you liked to think you returned the favor. Logan came before everything else, not that he asked for it. He asked for so little, and sometimes it hurt your heart that he didn't ask for more. Did he not understand he deserved the whole world?

After dinner, you guys go outside for a peaceful evening of some yard work. You wanted a garden, so Logan had been working o tearing up some of the lawn and creating a border. Meanwhile, you weeded the backyard, the two of you just listening to music together. When Logan takes off his shirt, you stare at him, hard. Tense, rippling muscles dripping with sweat, moving and flexing all for you. He deserved a treat.

"I'm gonna head inside, Lo."

"Okay baby, I'll be inside in a few, gonna get this section done."

You knew he'd say that. Gave you the perfect opportunity.

15 minutes later when Logan trudged upstairs, he called your name. "Where'ya at?"

"In here!" You call from the bathroom. When Logan entered, he found you in there, grinning up at him. The bathroom was dark except for the scented candles, gentle music playing.

Logan smiles down at you. "Whatcha planning here, bub?"

You rock on your heals. "I was thinking... you worked so hard today... maybe I give you a nice relaxing bath... I can wash you, if you let me..."

His perfect girl, so eager to please, Logan takes you into his arms, kissing the top of you're head. "Only if you join me?"

So you did. You got in the tub with him, dropping some lavender oils in but not to much to overwhelm his nose, and washed him with your loofa. You even take your exfoliater and scrub him down, even massages his feet. Logan had installed a detachable shower head, so you straddled his hips and even washed his hair. While letting the conditioner you insisted on work on his dark locks, you simply rest on his chest in a hug. He was so touch starved, you knew, years of isolation until he met Wade, but you were going to make up for that. Your were going to make up for every day he felt alone. Logan's hands cupped the water, drawing it up your back where it trickles down again, keeping you warm.

"You're perfect, you know that?" Logan mumbled into your ear.

"Hmmmm.... mid." You joke, but Logan wasn't taking it. He pulled you back, cupping your face and looking directly in your eyes.

"Not funny." Logan admonishes. "I want you to say it. Say, I'm perfect."

You knew better than to argue with him. So, you just smile. "I'm perfect. Your turn."

Logan chuckles. "Good girl. I'm perfect. You happy?"

You rest on his chest again. "Very."

kinktober Day 1- Primal play

Summary:Logan hunts you

The forest felt alive around you as you sprinted through the trees, your heart pounding in your chest.

The cool night air burned your lungs, but you couldn't stop running. Not when Logan was behind you-silent, stalking, letting you get just far enough before he closed the distance.

You knew he was toying with you. Letting you think you could escape. But deep down, you felt it-the inevitable. The low, predatory growl that had started miles back was a constant reminder that he was near, waiting to pounce.

The underbrush scratched at your legs, and the ground shifted beneath your feet. You stumbled slightly, your heart racing even faster as you realized he was closer now. You could almost feel the heat of his presence, the weight of his gaze on you. And then, just as you reached for the next tree to steady yourself

-

He was there.

A sudden rush of movement, a blur of heat and power, and Logan's body slammed into yours. The force knocked the breath out of you, pinning you against the rough bark of the tree. His growl deepened as his chest pressed firmly against your back, the heat of him overwhelming in the cool night air. You gasped, your hands splayed against the bark as you felt his hands grip your hips, hard and possessive, pulling you back against him.

There was no escape.

You could hear his ragged breathing, feel the intensity in the way his fingers dug into your skin. His growls vibrated through you, low and primal, as he leaned in close, his lips ghosting over your neck. His teeth grazed your skin, sharp and threatening, as if he was claiming you with every breath.

Your breath came in short, shallow gasps as his hips ground against yours, the friction between you undeniable. He didn't speak—there were no words, only the raw, animalistic energy that coursed through him. Every movement was deliberate, overwhelming, and full of intent.

Your hands grasped at the tree, trying to steady yourself as the intensity built, Logan's grip on you tightening. His body pressed harder against yours, his breath hot and heavy in your ear, and you could feel the primal hunger radiating from him, the need to claim you completely.

And then, without warning, he moved, his body surging against yours in a way that left no room for doubt. A gasp escaped your lips, your legs shaking as he took what he wanted, the intensity of it all too much to bear. You whimpered, your body arching into his as he set the pace, the rawness of it making your head spin.

The world around you blurred as the sensations overwhelmed your senses. The rough bark of the tree scraped against your skin, but you barely registered the discomfort. All you could feel was Logan-his strength, his heat, the way he claimed you with every movement.

He growled low in your ear, his hands gripping your hips even tighter as the primal energy between you surged to its peak. The force of his body against yours, the way he moved with such raw purpose, left you breathless. Every part of you was consumed by him, and the intensity of it was unlike anything you had ever felt before.

And just when it felt like you might shatter, Logan slowed. The growls softened, the roughness giving way to something gentler. His hands, once so forceful, now stroked soothingly over your skin, grounding you as you both caught your breath.

Logan's chest rose and fell heavily against your back as he leaned his forehead against your shoulder, his breath warm and steady. His grip on you eased, his fingers lightly tracing over the places where his hold had been the firmest, silently checking for any signs of discomfort.

"You okay?" His voice was low, almost a whisper, the primal growl gone, replaced by a gentleness that only appeared in these quiet, intimate moments.

You nodded, still catching your breath, and he slowly pulled you back from the tree, turning you to face him.

The intensity in his gaze was still there, but softer now, concern flickering in his eyes. His thumb brushed over your cheek, his touch surprisingly tender given the rawness of moments before.

"C'mere," Logan murmured, pulling you into his arms.

He held you close, his large hands soothingly rubbing up and down your back, grounding you as the adrenaline slowly faded. His forehead rested against yours, his breathing still deep and steady, as if anchoring himself in the moment with you.

The wildness had passed, but the tenderness remained.

Requests are Open!

The Choice

Summary:On a mission, Logan chooses Jean over Celine, who painfully realizes he would always choose Jean.

Logan had fought in countless battles, faced impossible odds, but today was different. The mission had spiraled out of control, and the air was thick with smoke and shouts. Logan’s claws sliced through enemy lines as he fought with everything he had, but his mind kept drifting back to the two women behind him.

Jean Grey, his ex-lover, was struggling just a few steps away. Her face was strained, her hands shaking as she held up a psychic barrier against the onslaught. They had been something once—intense, complicated, and real. Even after it ended, the connection between them never truly severed. He felt it now, a pull he couldn’t ignore.

Across the battlefield, Celine fought fiercely, her movements sharp and calculated. Logan had promised her everything. Promised her he’d always be there, always come back. But as he turned his gaze back to Jean, who collapsed to her knees, clutching her temples in agony, his heart twisted.

Jean screamed, and it cut through him like a knife. Her shields shattered, leaving her defenseless against the incoming barrage. Logan’s instincts screamed at him to go to her, to protect her like he always had.

“Logan!” Celine’s voice broke through the chaos, sharp and commanding. “We need to retreat, now!”

But he couldn’t tear his eyes away from Jean. “I can’t leave her,” he muttered, more to himself than anyone else.

Celine’s voice sharpened. “Logan, don’t make me choose between you and her!”

He finally turned to face Celine, and in her eyes, he saw the realization of what was coming. Her lips trembled, but her gaze held steady, hard.

“Why?” she challenged, her voice biting. “Because you would choose her?”

His throat tightened. He hated this—hated the truth that hung between them like a sword. But he couldn’t lie. “Yeah,” he rasped, “I’ll choose her.”

Something in Celine’s expression shifted, her eyes going cold and distant, like shutters slamming shut. Her face went blank, devoid of emotion. “Fine,” she said, her tone flat, almost disinterested. “Do what you have to do.”

Logan hesitated, but the urgency of the situation pressed him. He sprinted toward Jean, scooping her up and carrying her toward the Blackbird, his heart heavy. He knew he’d crossed a line he couldn’t come back from.

When he reached the jet, he placed Jean inside, making sure she was stable. Then he turned to look at Celine. She was already at the controls, her expression icy, unreadable. She didn’t even glance his way.

“Celine…” he began, desperate to find the words.

“Don’t bother,” she cut in coldly, her tone like frost. “You made your choice, Logan. Now live with it.”

He flinched, feeling the sting of her words like a slap. “I didn’t want to hurt you.”

Her eyes flicked to him, empty and cold. “You didn’t,” she replied, her voice chilling in its calmness. “You just showed me where we stand.”

Logan swallowed hard, realizing just how deeply he’d wounded her. But she turned away, dismissing him entirely, focusing on the controls as if he were no longer there. The engines roared to life, and the jet began to ascend, but her silence was louder than the roar.

She didn’t look at him again, her gaze fixed forward, her posture rigid and unyielding. Logan felt a hollow ache settle in his chest, knowing he had just lost something vital, something he might never get back.

As they flew into the night, Celine remained silent, her expression like stone, a barrier he knew he’d never be able to breach again.

Requests are Always open.

More dad Logan and Laura on the way😀