DEADPOOL & WOLVERINE dir. Shawn Levy (2024)
i miss him so much, even after a year
satoru cameo in the dawn to come manhwa???? 😭
saw the movie yesterday. joe is so cute.
𝐉𝐔𝐒𝐓 𝐓𝐑𝐘𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐓𝐎 𝐁𝐄 𝐁𝐑𝐀𝐕𝐄 — 𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐂 (𝐀𝐐𝐏𝐃𝐎)
𝐑𝐄𝐐𝐔𝐄𝐒𝐓: A request for Eric from A Quiet Place: Day One The reader only knows of one way to calm him whilst he's having a panic attack during the madness, and they gently let him rest against their chest and listen to their heartbeat until he calms down <3
𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆(𝐒): SLIGHT SPOILERS, fluff, angst, panic attacks
𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓: 1,286
𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: Eric x fem!Reader
𝐀/𝐍: I hope you enjoy it! Feedback is always welcomed! I didn’t know where you wanted the reader to calm him down so you get a two-for-one scenario fic lmfao <33
𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓
You don’t know what you would’ve done if you hadn’t run into Sam like you and Eric had. You two probably would have continued to wander the discarded vacant streets of New York, had you decided not to follow the cat.
Sam had been insistent on you both leaving her be with her cat, but at last she got used to your presence. Now as you shelter in her abandoned home, watching and hearing the rain fall from the windows, you can’t help but feel relieved those creatures can’t hear your beloved's panicked inhales and exhales.
“Eric, it’s okay! You’re alright. We’re okay!” He only shakes his head at your reassured comments. Your consolation this time wasn’t doing the trick to calm him down, if you hadn’t run out you would have given him his prescribed anxiety meds. “It’s okay. They can’t hear us up here right now. You’re okay. We’ve made it this far haven’t we?” You breathe out a laugh as you cup his face. He barely musters a nod before his eyes close again, you could imagine the tornado spinning around in his chest. Wreaking havoc on his sanity and any small chance of serenity. You could imagine it all. You could see the panic, the fear in his eyes, making his chest rise and fall rapidly as he struggled to maintain his breath. “Do you want to try it again, what your doctor recommended us to do? Your head pressed on my chest. Match your breathing to the rhythm of each beat of my heart…” You trailed off letting him take the lead.
At your suggestion, he nods slowly, his eyes closing as he reaches out for your hands again. "O-Okay..." Eric tried to take deep breaths, but they came out as panicked stutters.
You sat back against the sofa, allowing space for him to rest against your chest. You began to steady your rhythmic pace, knowing it only worked if you were just as calm and relaxed. You press a gentle kiss against his curls. As his breathing slows to a soft inhale and exhale. He tuned out everything around him. Hearing every thump, feeling every minor skip in your chest. He felt your steadiness, felt the caresses in his hair. The strong warm hold of your other arm as you held him close. He could feel you, hear every intake of air. You were present for him, and he was welcoming the stillness the moment allowed for you both to have once again. He guessed as much though just how the rest of your lives would dissolve into, a world of quiet.
It seemed heavenly at first, but otherworldly frightening, knowing he might just have to savor the small moments where he’d get to hear your voice again. Just as he was doing now.
Once you registered his slackened jaw and relaxed shoulders, you assumed as much that he had fallen asleep. You didn’t dare move. Your fingers continued to rake through his hair as he had succumbed to sleep. You couldn't help but feel relieved that he had calmed down and been able to find some rest. The rain continued to patter against the windows, its soothing sound acting as a natural lullaby to ease your nerves. As you held him close, you found yourself unable to tear your gaze away from his peaceful face.
“What started the attacks?” Sam watches you both from the windows.
“Moving far from home. His parents were so proud of him for following through with law school, but he was devastated to leave them. I completely out of mind in love with him, made the biggest jump of my life following him to the U.S.”
“Do you ever regret it?”
You peer up at Sam with glistened eyes. “N-No. I wouldn’t be sane going through this apocalypse without him. Whatever this whole mess is!” You exclaimed quietly. You look down at him, brushing back his curls. “I’d regret it more if I hadn’t followed him here. I can’t imagine what he would’ve done all alone, if he’d survived it this far. I think he would. I wonder if he’d have met you just the same if I wasn’t here. I’d have been thankful just the same though, Sam. For letting him stick with you.” You choke back a sob, your smile widening at the corners. Sam only nods, turning her head away from your vulnerable confession. You didn’t take it to the heart. Who knew what pain she was going through herself.
As you spoke to Sam, your voice quivered with a mix of love and vulnerability. You could feel the weight of your words hanging in the air, and for a moment, it was as if the world outside faded away, leaving only the three of you to navigate this strange new reality. You couldn’t help but wonder how Eric would have fared if you hadn't been by his side, a thought that sent a shiver down your spine. With bated breaths, you turned your focus back to him, sleeping peacefully in your arms.
-
“Eric baby please!” You swish around in the water, eyes glistening as you look up at the creature crawling out from the hole on the roof. Sam had taken a more firmer approach. Holding her hand over his mouth. You had caught him about to squeak, before Sam shushed him. His need to express his panic in screams was hard to muffle.
You moved as quietly as you could in the water. Making your way to take over Sam’s place. Eric only shook his head at you. You had to nod, to remind him to stay calm.
“Eric, we need to slow your heart.”
“N-No, no, no.” He muttered. “I can’t…”
“You can, you can. Baby, look at me.” You whispered harshly, gripping his face like Sam had done. In a more serene and calm scenario, your softer touch would have been your go-to, but not when that thing was getting closer. “I’m scared right now, I’m scared too, but we need to get you back on track. I need you to focus and match your breathing to mine, right now!” Your eyes plead with him. “Please!”
His eyes were wide with fear, pupils dilated and breaths shallow. The panic was clearly taking over him as water dipped into his mouth, making it difficult for him to focus on anything other than the impending danger. Despite his obvious distress, he nodded slightly, trying his best to calm himself down. As you held his face, he tried to match his breathing to yours, each breath a struggle for control over the mounting fear. He closed his eyes, forcing himself to stay grounded in the presence of your touch.
"I got you. D-Deep breaths…" You barely whisper to him, your frequency morphing into mouthed words.
He took a shaky breath, shuddering as he attempted to follow your instructions. Your steady presence grounded him to the moment.
You didn't hesitate to place his head on your chest. You placed your hand on the back of his head, rubbing his wet hair back and forth in hopes of reassuring him. You tread lightly backwards, keeping your sights on the beast behind you three.
Eric pressed his ear against your chest, the sound of your steady heartbeat providing a calming rhythm to focus on. His breaths were still shaky, but with your hand on the back of his head, soothing in soft caresses, he slowly began to calm down. He closed his eyes and let himself be guided through the water, trusting your instincts to lead the way. Trusting both Sam and you to get him far away from the damned creature.
*drool*
i colored him (finally)
summary: Logan has a nightmare and finds comfort his his new child.
warnings: fluff, comfort, his child is adopted
Part if the Moonlight series (coming soon lol)
a/n: So i did things a little backwards. This should have been a oneshot after the og story of them finding the baby but I got this idea in my head and I couldn’t shake it so you’re getting some things out of order. You don’t need any context other than shes a baby and adopted tbh. Her name is Diana and i did take that from league of legends
Logan shoots up, chest pounding as a nightmare lingers in his head. He doesn't remember what this one was about. Probably just like all the other ones. His dead friends, the blood on his hands. Something along those lines.
He feels you stir next to him and freezes. You've been absolutely exhausted the last couple of weeks with the baby so the last thing he wants for you is to wake up because of him. He gently rubs your back, watching you relax under his touch until you're back to a nice deep sleep.
Loud cries start to come from the next room. His brows furrow as he pulls off the sheets.
Worry building in his chest as he hurries to the next room. Is something wrong? Is she sick? Hurt? He breathes a sigh of relief when he sees her in her bed. He places his hand on her forehead to check for a fever. No sign of sickness which is good but he's hyper aware as he checks her over.
"Hey there kid, what's with all the crying?" The crying starts to subside the moment she lays eyes on Logan.
He shushes her gently. Picking her up from her crib and holding her in his arms. He walks around in circles, gently bouncing her in his arms.
She's wearing some stupid onesie that Wade bought her. Red to match his suit. Stuffed animals sit perfectly in her crib but she clutches hard to one in particular. A damn wolverine plushie that you had searched forever for. He rolled his eyes at the idea but the moment Diana saw that stupid plush she squealed with happiness. Now it's her best friend.
"See no tears, no reason for tears. I'm here." He wipes away the stray tears from her chubby little cheeks.
He moves to put her back in bed but her faces scrunches up like she's going to cry again so he keeps her in his arms. He slowly sinks into the rocking chair sat next to her bed. Cradling her as he slowly rocks back and forth. The chair creaks beneath his weight and he makes a note to get a stronger chair.
"You hungry?" He tries to feed her the bottle you keep for emergencies but she won't budge. She doesn't need a diaper change so he has no clue why she woke up this time.
“Did you have a nightmare?" He asks softly as she grabs onto his finger. Looking up at him with big glassy eyes.
"That's okay, I get them too." She babbles nonsense in response.
Sometimes Logan wonders what she dreams about. Does she have memories of her parents? Does she ever miss them? Can she even miss them? She's just a baby. A poor, innocent child who was left for dead. The idea makes his blood boil. How could you just leave a child like that?
They're born into this world helpless and the people who were supposed to protect them left because their child happened to be born a mutant. He takes a deep breath and tries to calm himself. He was upsetting her, like she could sense his anger.
"Sorry kid, didn't mean to make you sad." She puts his finger in her mouth, sucking on it like a binky.
"Having fun there?" She gurgles and he takes that as a yes.
She shows no sign of being tired which is bad news for him and you. You just got her on a good sleep schedule and now it might get ruined.
"I know how scary nightmares can be." He brushes her little cheek and she giggles.
"But I promise they can't hurt you. I won't let anything hurt you." Her eyes start to flutter shut, the grip on his finger loosen as she listens to him talk. He moves her so that her head is resting on his chest. His hand rubbing up and down her back. She yawns and snuggles closer to him.
"Back to sleep kiddo, there we go."
"Logan?" Your sleepy voice calls from the door. You rub your eyes as you take in the view of Logan holding Diana in his arms.
"Nightmare.” He says looking at you. You walk over and gently rub his arm.
“You or her?” He doesn’t answer. You stay with them for a while. She’s fast asleep by now but she looks so comfortable in Logan’s arms that you can’t even think of separating the two.
“Do you want to talk about it?” No. He doesn’t. He’d rather focus on the good in his life than remember the past. In fact holding Diana puts him at peace. Quieting his mind in ways normally only you can.
“Maybe she’s good for more than just throwing up and making a mess.” Logan jokes and you lightly hit his arm.
“Shut up you love her.” He stares at her sleeping face.
She’s looks so peaceful. He does love her. So much. So much that it scares him. What if she grows up and thinks he’s a monster? What if he fucks up somewhere and ruins his perfect girls life? As far as he’s concerned everything he touches gets ruined. He still wakes up in disbelief that you’re by his side everyday.
“Okay Princess, we need to get you back to bed.” You try and take her our of his arms but he pulls back.
“No.” He holds her protectively to his chest. A flash of anger in his eyes fades as soon as it comes.
“I’m sorry. I. I just need a little longer.” He feels guilty for snapping but you understand.
You sit on the floor and rest your head on his lap. He doesn’t even try to tell you to go back to bed because he knows you won’t listen. So he sits back and watches his girl for a little longer.
His perfect family.
Oh the Deadpool tag is trending? I wonder why—
… oh
soo sweet
part one!!
for this request!!
─ summary | a week after megan caught you and father charlie, higher-ranking members of the church summon both of you for a stern warning. they threaten severe consequences—not just losing your positions, but eternal damnation—if you don't end your affair, and though you try to stay composed, charlie's anger flares as he refuses to accept their condemnation
─ pairing | father charlie mayhew x fem!mother!reader
─ word count | 5.3k
─ warnings | pretty angsty + dramatic but has a happy ending, forbidden love, descriptions of having a big family. also wanted to put out there that this in no way shape or form trying to depict the church as something bad, every church is different and this is just fictional and very self-indulgent.
─ ev's notes | my requests are open if you wanna send anything in! this was super self indulgent and i swear i say that every time but it's true. the happy ending was sorta like... my happy ending LMAO but i just wanted them to end up together. this was super fast paced (ik... 5k words and """fast paced""") but if u read it, you'll know what i mean.
ok love u bye!!! pls send me requests!!!!!!
⇨ missing out on updates? check out my masterlist!
Father Charlie’s face is pale, his eyes wide with fear as the weight of what just happened begins to settle between you. The churchyard, once a sanctuary, now feels like a trap. You stand there, unable to move, your heart pounding in your ears.
“Megan—” you try to call out, your voice catching in your throat, but she’s already gone, disappearing into the shadows of the church.
Father Charlie turns to you, his hand trembling as he runs it through his hair. “This… this can’t get out. It’ll ruin everything,” he says, his voice breaking under the pressure. He paces, eyes darting toward the church doors as if expecting Megan to reappear any moment with a crowd of witnesses.
Your chest tightens. You know what’s at stake—the life you’ve both built within the church, the delicate balance of your roles, the unspoken rules you’ve crossed. There’s no undoing what’s been done.
“I didn’t mean—” you begin, but he cuts you off, stepping closer, his hands gripping your arms with desperate intensity.
“It’s not your fault,” he says, his voice urgent. “I should have never let it get this far. But Megan… she can’t know. No one can know.”
You nod, but the truth gnaws at you. This wasn’t just a fleeting moment of weakness. The kiss—the feelings behind it—have been building for longer than you want to admit. And now that the barrier has been broken, there’s no pretending you can go back to how things were.
“What if she tells?” you ask, your voice barely a whisper.
Father Charlie’s eyes meet yours, his face full of guilt and something else, something darker—a simmering fear. “I’ll talk to her. I’ll make sure she doesn’t say anything.”
The way he says it makes your stomach twist. You’ve never seen him like this, so cornered, so desperate. For a brief moment, you wonder if you’ve unleashed something in him that can’t be controlled.
“I have to fix this,” he mutters more to himself than to you, already starting to move toward the church, determination in his stride. “Go home. Don’t come back until I say it’s safe.”
You open your mouth to protest, but the look in his eyes stops you. There’s no room for discussion. The weight of your guilt, mingled with fear, presses heavy on your chest as you turn and leave, knowing that the fragile world you both clung to is about to shatter.
As you walk away from the church, the echoes of the kiss linger on your lips, but now they taste bitter—haunted by the knowledge that you’ve crossed a line you can never uncross. And Megan, with her watchful eyes, has seen it all.
The walk from the church feels impossibly long, every step weighed down by the suffocating pressure of what’s just transpired. The once-bright sky has dimmed into muted shades of twilight, the air thick with impending doom. You can feel the weight of it pressing against your chest, making it hard to breathe. The churchyard, so familiar and comforting just moments ago, now seems cold, distant—like it’s pushing you away.
You glance back once, just once, and catch sight of Charlie disappearing into the stone walls of the church. His movements are hurried, frantic, and it only makes the knot in your stomach tighten. You know he’s going to confront Megan. You know he’ll do everything in his power to convince her to stay silent, to protect both of you, but the seed of doubt has already taken root. What if she doesn’t listen? What if Megan has already spread word of what she saw?
The fear claws at your insides.
You replay the moment over and over in your mind—the kiss, the way his lips had pressed against yours with a hunger that had long been suppressed, the heat of his body against yours. It was more than a moment of weakness; it was the culmination of everything you had been hiding, everything you’d tried to bury under the weight of duty. You had always known there was something between you and Charlie, but you had told yourself it was nothing, that it could never be anything more than unspoken glances and the occasional brush of hands. But now, the truth is undeniable.
You love him.
And it terrifies you.
As you turn the corner, moving further away from the church and deeper into the quiet streets, you try to suppress the panic building inside you. You force yourself to breathe, slow and steady, even as the thought of what comes next twists and knots in your chest. Megan… she had seen everything. Her eyes, wide with shock and something close to betrayal, flashed in your mind like a warning. She would never understand. She couldn’t. To her, this wasn’t just a mistake or a lapse in judgment—it was blasphemy, a defilement of everything sacred.
You walk faster, as if the distance could somehow cleanse you of what just happened, but the weight of your sins follows you, heavy and unrelenting. By the time you reach your small, modest home, the last of the daylight is gone. The darkness feels fitting, like a cloak draped over the truth you’re so desperate to hide.
You fumble with the key, your hands trembling, and push open the door. Inside, the space feels too small, too confining. The walls close in around you, suffocating in their familiarity. You collapse onto the nearest chair, your mind racing, trying to make sense of what comes next.
You think of Megan again, the way she had slipped away so quickly, disappearing into the shadows like a ghost. What had she seen? How much had she heard? Would she go to the elders? To the congregation? Your stomach churns at the thought of everyone knowing, their judgmental eyes stripping you bare, seeing you for what you truly are—a sinner. You can already picture the looks, the whispers that would follow, the way they’d turn on you. And Charlie—God, what would happen to him? His role as a priest, his entire life, would be torn apart if this got out.
You can’t let that happen.
But no matter how much you try to focus, your thoughts keep pulling back to him. To the way he looked at you in those moments after Megan had fled. His face, pale with fear, but his eyes… they had been filled with something more than just panic. There had been a tenderness there, a quiet desperation, as if he had wanted to say something, to comfort you, but the words had been lost in the gravity of the situation. And now, the distance between you feels like a chasm, one that neither of you can cross until you know what Megan will do.
The hours stretch on in painful silence. You sit by the window, staring out into the night, your heart heavy with dread. Every sound, every rustle of wind, makes you jump, half-expecting someone to come knocking at your door, to drag you back to the church and expose your sin to the world. But no one comes. The night is as still as your breath, suspended in an unbearable waiting.
You wonder how Charlie is faring. Is he talking to Megan right now? Is he pleading with her, trying to make her understand? Or is it too late—has she already made up her mind? The uncertainty gnaws at you, each minute that passes feeling like an eternity.
The quiet is suddenly interrupted by a soft knock at the door. You freeze, your heart stopping for a beat, your blood running cold. For a moment, you can’t move, can’t breathe. Then, slowly, you rise from the chair, your body moving on instinct. You approach the door with trembling hands, every step echoing like a drumbeat in the stillness of the house.
When you open it, Charlie stands on the other side.
His face is pale, his eyes dark and sunken, as though he’s aged years in the span of a few hours. His expression is grim, but beneath the weariness, there’s something else—something raw, something desperate. He steps inside without a word, closing the door behind him, and the weight of everything that’s happened settles between you.
“What happened?” you ask, your voice barely a whisper.
For a long moment, he doesn’t speak. His hands are shaking, and you notice the way he clenches them into fists, trying to steady himself. “She’s not going to tell anyone,” he finally says, but his voice is hollow, and you know that’s not the whole story.
You take a step closer, searching his face for answers. “What did you say to her?”
Charlie’s eyes meet yours, and there’s a flicker of something dark in them—something you haven’t seen before. “I made sure she understood,” he says, but there’s no relief in his voice. No victory. Only guilt.
Your stomach tightens as his words sink in. You want to believe him, to trust that everything will be okay now, but the look in his eyes tells you that nothing will ever be the same. Not between you. Not between him and the church. And certainly not between him and Megan.
The silence stretches on, thick and heavy with unspoken truths, and you realize that whatever you thought you were protecting has already been lost. The kiss, the secret moments, the connection between you and Charlie—it’s all unraveling, piece by piece, and there’s no going back now.
You don’t know what he did. And you’re not sure you want to.
All you know is that something has shifted between you, and the fragile world you’ve built together is starting to crack.
“I… I couldn’t let her ruin this,” he says, his voice low and almost pleading. He takes a step closer, his hand reaching out to cup your face gently, his thumb brushing over your cheek as though he’s trying to memorize the feel of your skin beneath his fingertips. “You have no idea what you mean to me.”
You swallow hard, your heart thudding in your chest. There’s a rawness to his words, a vulnerability that you’ve never seen in him before, and it makes the knot in your throat tighten. “Charlie,” you whisper, your voice barely audible, but he shakes his head, cutting you off.
“No,” he says, his voice firmer now, more certain. “You need to hear this. I love you.” The words hang between you, heavy and full of meaning. His eyes search yours, as though he’s terrified of what your response might be, but at the same time, there’s a conviction in him that tells you he’s been holding onto this for far too long.
Your breath catches in your throat, and for a moment, the world falls away. The fear, the uncertainty, the guilt—it all fades into the background, and all that’s left is the truth. He loves you.
And God help you, you love him too.
“I love you, too,” you finally say, the words slipping out in a rush, like a dam breaking. The weight of them is staggering, but also freeing, as though admitting it has somehow lifted the burden from your chest.
Charlie’s eyes soften, and in that moment, the darkness, the fear, everything that’s been hanging over you both seems to dissolve, leaving only the two of you in this fragile, stolen moment.
He pulls you closer, his lips brushing against your forehead, then your temple, and finally, he presses a soft kiss to your lips. It’s tender, sweet, and laced with the kind of love that’s been simmering beneath the surface for far too long. For a few precious seconds, you allow yourself to get lost in him—the warmth of his body, the way his hands cradle your face like you’re something fragile and precious. There’s no guilt in this kiss, no shame. Just love.
But as sweet as it is, there’s still a bitter edge, the reminder of what’s been lost. The weight of what happened earlier, of Megan’s watchful eyes, lingers like a shadow over your joy. You pull back slightly, your heart aching as you search his face for reassurance.
“What are we going to do?” you ask, the question heavy with fear and uncertainty.
Charlie lets out a soft sigh, his hand still resting against your cheek. “I don’t know,” he admits quietly. “But we’ll figure it out. Together.”
The simplicity of his words settles over you, warm and comforting, but the reality of the situation isn’t so easily dismissed. You know the risks, the consequences that loom over both of you like a dark cloud, but right now, in this moment, with his arms wrapped around you, it feels like you can face anything.
He leans his forehead against yours, closing his eyes as though he’s savoring the closeness, the peace that you’ve found in each other, if only for this fleeting moment. “I don’t care what happens,” he whispers. “As long as I have you.”
Tears prick at the corners of your eyes, a mixture of happiness and sorrow, because you know that this love—the love you’ve both fought so hard to deny—is as beautiful as it is dangerous. The church, the life you’ve built, the faith that has defined you for so long—it all stands in opposition to what you feel for each other. And yet, here you are, standing on the precipice, ready to fall.
“I’m scared,” you admit softly, your voice trembling.
Charlie pulls you tighter against him, his breath warm against your skin. “So am I,” he confesses, his voice breaking just a little. “But I won’t lose you. Not now. Not ever.”
You stay like that for what feels like hours, wrapped in each other’s arms, finding solace in the quiet, in the shared heartbeat that thumps in time with your own. For once, it feels like you’re not fighting against the world, but standing together, ready to face whatever comes next.
But the bitterness still lingers, a quiet reminder that nothing about this is simple. The danger hasn’t passed, and Megan’s silence, though promised, may not last forever. You both know that this moment—this love—comes with a cost.
Still, for now, you allow yourself to hold on to the sweetness of it, to the warmth of his embrace, and the knowledge that whatever happens next, you won’t face it alone.
───
The bells toll, echoing through the towering walls of the old church, signaling the end of Sunday Mass. Parishioners, still murmuring prayers under their breath, make their way toward the grand double doors, their heads dipped in reverence. The air is thick with incense, mingling with the faint scent of candle wax, and the murmured conversations of the faithful filter out as they depart.
You stand by the altar, adjusting your habit, feeling the familiar weight of responsibility settle over you. It had been a week since the kiss—since Megan’s eyes had caught the forbidden moment. You and Father Charlie had been careful, the tension between you palpable but unspoken. There was no room for slip-ups now, not with what was at stake.
But just as you turn to head back toward the sacristy, you notice something that sends a chill through you. A group of clergy—men dressed in higher clerical vestments, their expressions stern and unyielding—are making their way toward the two of you. The archbishop, Father Lucian, leads them, his presence commanding and severe, a man of high standing in the church, second only to the bishop himself. Behind him are two more senior priests, Father Augustine and Monsignor Ramos, known for their strict adherence to church doctrine.
Charlie stands frozen for a moment, his usual calm demeanor stiffening as he recognizes the gravity of what’s about to happen. His eyes meet yours briefly, and in that split second, you both know. They know.
Father Lucian stops in front of you, his hands clasped behind his back. His face is impassive, but the weight of his gaze is suffocating, filled with judgment and a quiet, simmering disappointment. The silence stretches on, unbearable, until finally, he speaks.
“Father Charles,” Lucian’s voice is deep and resonant, cutting through the stillness like a blade. “Mother Y/N. We need to speak.”
Charlie straightens, his jaw set in that familiar stubborn way, but his eyes flicker with something darker—anger, perhaps, or fear. You step closer to him, your heart hammering in your chest.
“We’ve been made aware of certain… transgressions,” Father Lucian continues, his voice cold, deliberate. “Ones that go against the very foundation of your vows—vows of purity, of dedication to God and His teachings.”
Father Charlie’s hands tighten into fists at his sides, though he doesn’t say anything yet. His silence, however, feels like the calm before a storm.
“We’ve heard unsettling rumors,” Monsignor Ramos says, his voice carrying a softer, but no less menacing tone. “Of inappropriate closeness between the two of you. Intimacies that have no place within these sacred walls.”
Your stomach drops, the air around you suddenly feeling too thick, too stifling. The weight of their accusation presses against your chest, suffocating.
Father Augustine steps forward, his eyes sharp with accusation. “You both took vows before God,” he says, his voice unwavering. “To forsake earthly temptations for a higher calling. But what we’ve witnessed… it is not the first time such weakness has crept into the church. We cannot allow it to continue.”
You want to speak, to defend yourself, but your throat tightens, and words fail you. Beside you, Charlie’s breathing grows heavier, his anger barely contained.
“If you do not end this… affair immediately,” Father Lucian says, his voice dropping, “there will be consequences far worse than dismissal. You will not only lose your positions here, but you will face the eternal damnation of your souls. Your actions are not just a violation of church law but of God’s law. Do you understand?”
The implications hit you like a blow—hell. They’re threatening you with eternal punishment.
Father Charlie, who had remained silent until now, suddenly takes a step forward, his voice trembling with anger. “And who are you,” he says, his voice low but dangerous, “to tell us about the state of our souls?”
The senior clergy exchange glances, surprised at his defiance. But Charlie continues, his voice growing stronger. “Yes, we broke our vows. But this—what we feel—it's not some… sinful temptation. It’s love. And I won’t stand here and let you condemn us without knowing what’s in our hearts.”
Father Lucian’s eyes narrow, and for a moment, the tension is palpable. “Father Charles, you forget your place,” he says coldly. “This is not a matter of love. It is a matter of duty. Of obedience. You swore your life to God, not to your desires.”
“I didn’t swear my life to a prison,” Charlie snaps, his voice shaking with fury. “I swore my life to serve God, to care for people. But you—you’d rather see us as sinners than as human beings.”
“Father Charles,” Monsignor Ramos says, his voice hardening, “you are speaking out of turn.”
“No,” Charlie interrupts, turning to you, his hand reaching for yours without hesitation. “I’m speaking the truth. I won’t let you use God as a weapon to control us.”
Your hand grips his tightly, and despite the cold sweat trickling down your spine, you feel an odd sense of strength radiating from him. The threat of hellfire lingers in the air, but for the first time, it doesn’t feel so terrifying with him standing beside you.
Father Lucian’s gaze hardens, his lips thinning into a severe line. “This is your final warning. End this now, or face the consequences.”
Charlie stares back at him, unwavering. “I’d rather face hell,” he says softly, “than live a lie.”
The silence that follows is deafening, the weight of his words hanging between you and the clergy like a challenge. They stand, frozen for a moment, taken aback by his refusal. The unspoken threat remains—hell, ruin, the dismantling of everything you’ve both worked for.
But for the first time in a long time, you don’t feel afraid. You look at Charlie, his face set in defiance, and something inside you shifts. Maybe this is the beginning of the end, but it’s also the beginning of something else—something true, something worth fighting for.
The silence stretches unbearably in the cold churchyard, the tension thick as a storm building on the horizon. The senior clergy stare at Charlie, their expressions hard, almost disbelieving that he’s standing against them. Father Lucian’s eyes narrow further, but his voice remains steady, with a chilling authority.
“You are not beyond redemption,” he says, the words deliberate, cutting. “But defiance will not save you from the consequences of your actions. Think carefully before you decide to sacrifice everything—your calling, your salvation—for something so… fleeting.”
Charlie’s grip tightens around your hand. He doesn’t flinch, doesn’t back down. His next words, however quiet, carry an unshakable resolve. “I’ve already decided. I won’t live a life of half-truths. If that’s what it takes to serve God here, then I’ll find my own way.”
Father Augustine inhales sharply, looking between you and Charlie with something resembling disappointment—or perhaps disdain. “This will not go unpunished,” he mutters, his tone cold and unyielding. “There are consequences for every action, Father Charles. You’ve been warned.”
Without another word, the three clergymen turn on their heels and leave, their footsteps echoing ominously against the stone floor of the church. The weight of their warning lingers, even after they disappear into the distance.
You and Charlie stand there, unmoving, his hand still wrapped tightly around yours. The tension in his body slowly ebbs, though his grip remains firm, as if he’s grounding himself in this moment, in you. The sky above is clear, but there’s a storm brewing, one you can’t ignore any longer.
“Charlie…” you whisper, your voice barely audible over the quiet rustling of leaves in the courtyard. “What are we going to do?”
He exhales deeply, his shoulders dropping as he turns to face you fully. His eyes search yours, filled with the same mixture of love and uncertainty that’s been building between you since that night in the church. “I don’t know,” he admits, his voice softer now, the fire from before replaced with a gentle resignation. “But I know I can’t lose you. Not like this.”
You feel the same pull in your chest, the same conflicted desire that’s been tearing you apart. Everything you’ve built within the church, every vow you’ve taken—it’s all crumbling around you. But Charlie… he’s the one thing that still feels real, the one person you’ve come to rely on, to love in ways you never expected.
“I can’t lose you either,” you admit, your throat tight, emotions swirling in a confusing blur. “But they’re right… If we keep going like this, it won’t just be losing our positions. It’ll be worse.”
Charlie’s gaze darkens for a moment, as if weighing the enormity of it all. He steps closer, lifting his hand to gently cradle your face, his thumb brushing your cheek in a tender, almost reverent motion. “I know the risks,” he says, his voice steady, filled with an unshakable determination. “But the risk of not having you in my life… that’s worse.”
You close your eyes at his touch, leaning into the warmth of his hand. His words wrap around your heart, pulling you closer to the edge of something you can’t take back.
───
The decision had been made in a heartbeat, almost too quickly for either of you to process. One moment, you were standing in the courtyard, exchanging quiet promises of love and loyalty; the next, you were both packing your modest belongings in a small room that had been your sanctuary for years.
Charlie’s movements were hurried but deliberate, his usual calm demeanor now laced with an urgency that mirrored your own. You threw robes and personal items into a small bag, your heart pounding as the reality of your situation sank in.
“We can’t stay here,” he had said, his voice shaking with conviction. “Not after that. If we don’t leave now, they’ll find a way to tear us apart.”
You agreed, knowing deep down that the church, once a symbol of comfort and belonging, had become a prison. It wasn’t just Megan’s spying or the warnings from the senior clergy—it was everything. The suffocating weight of the vows, the whispered rumors, the constant feeling of being watched. You couldn’t breathe here anymore.
The room, usually filled with quiet prayer and reflection, was now buzzing with the frantic energy of departure. Charlie stopped for a moment, watching you from across the room. His eyes were dark, filled with an intensity you had rarely seen before. He came closer, brushing his hand across your cheek, tilting your chin so that you met his gaze.
“Are you sure about this?” he asked, his voice quieter now, more vulnerable. “We’re leaving everything behind.”
You nodded, heart pounding, but with a certainty that surprised even you. “I’m sure. I can’t stay here, Charlie. Not without you. Not like this.”
He pressed his forehead against yours, closing his eyes as if savoring the moment, as if holding on to this fragile piece of certainty before everything crumbled.
“We’ll be alright,” he whispered, his breath warm against your skin. “We’ll find a way. Together.”
You smiled, a bittersweet knot forming in your chest. The thought of leaving everything you’d known was terrifying—but the thought of staying, of pretending, of hiding this love… that was worse.
A knock at the door startled you both, and your heart leapt in your chest. You turned to the door, half expecting to see Father Lucian or another member of the clergy, ready to drag you back into the suffocating confines of the church’s judgment.
But it was Megan.
Her eyes were wide, but there was something softer in her gaze now—something you hadn’t seen before. She hesitated in the doorway, her hand lingering on the knob as she looked between you and Charlie.
“I—I heard,” she stammered, her voice barely above a whisper. “You’re leaving?”
Charlie tensed beside you, but you took a step forward, your heart racing. “Megan… I know what you saw. I know what you think, but—”
She shook her head, cutting you off. “No. It’s not that. I—” Her voice faltered, and she took a deep breath, glancing at Charlie before continuing. “I’m not here to stop you. I just… I just wanted to say I understand. I don’t agree with it, but I understand why you’re doing this.”
You blinked, taken aback. Megan, the one who had spied on you, who had been so suspicious of your every move, was standing here, offering understanding. It felt surreal.
“I’m not going to tell anyone,” she added softly. “But if you’re really leaving, you need to go now. They’ll come looking for you.”
Charlie’s hand found yours, squeezing it tightly. You felt a rush of gratitude toward Megan, despite everything that had happened between you. Her warning, her silence—it was an unexpected act of kindness.
“Thank you,” you whispered, the words feeling heavy with meaning.
She nodded once, her eyes lingering on you for a moment longer before she turned and left, her footsteps echoing down the hallway.
You turned to Charlie, your breath catching in your throat. “It’s time.”
He nodded, his jaw set, determination burning in his eyes. “Let’s go.”
Together, you walked out of the room, leaving behind the life you had known, the vows you had once believed in, and the future you had thought was certain. The church, once towering and holy, now felt like a distant memory as you stepped into the world beyond its gates.
You didn’t know what would come next—where you would go or what you would do—but with Charlie by your side, the fear didn’t seem quite as overwhelming. You had each other. And for now, that was enough.
EPILOGUE
The sun was beginning to set, casting a warm golden glow across the rolling hills and fields that stretched beyond your front porch. The house you now called home sat nestled against a small grove of trees, a place you’d never imagined, yet somehow felt destined to find.
A soft breeze rustled through the open windows, carrying with it the distant laughter of children playing in the yard. You smiled, leaning against the wooden railing as you watched them—a picture of the life you had once dreamed of, now fully realized.
Two little girls, their dark curls bouncing in the breeze, were chasing after their younger brother, their giggles filling the air. They were so full of energy, so full of life. The kind of life you had longed for back when everything felt so suffocating, back when the idea of having a family seemed distant and impossible.
Behind you, the front door creaked open, and Charlie stepped out, two mugs of tea in his hands. His face, though older and more weathered now, still held that same softness that had always drawn you to him. He passed you a cup and wrapped an arm around your waist, his chin resting on your shoulder as he watched the scene unfold before you.
You smiled, leaning into him, your heart swelling with contentment. This was the dream you had once shared with him, whispered between kisses when the future seemed so uncertain. But now, here it was—tangible, real. Your two daughters, as spirited and wild as you had imagined, and your son, a bundle of mischief with Charlie’s inquisitive nature.
You stood there in comfortable silence, watching as your eldest, a curious seven-year-old, tried to corral her younger siblings with all the seriousness of someone far beyond her years. The younger girl, barely five, kept bursting into fits of giggles, while your three-year-old son—always a handful—tumbled into the grass, quickly distracted by the dogs.
It was a far cry from the life you had left behind, from the cold stone walls of the church and the whispers of judgment. You had built this life together—away from the suffocating expectations, the prying eyes, and the fear. Out here, in this open space, you were free to be who you truly were, without shame, without fear of punishment.
Charlie turned his head slightly, brushing his lips against your cheek. “You’re happy?”
You looked up at him, your heart swelling with so much love it almost hurt. “I am,” you whispered, reaching up to touch his face. “I really am.”
He smiled, his eyes softening in the way they always did when he looked at you—filled with a love that had only grown stronger over the years. You still had your moments of doubt, of course—those nights when the past crept in, when the memory of everything you’d left behind tugged at your mind. But then you would look at him, at the children you had brought into the world, and it would all disappear.
Charlie pulled you closer, his arms wrapping around you as the children’s laughter echoed through the evening air. The weight of the past had faded into something distant, something that didn’t define you anymore.
This was your future now—a family, a home filled with love and laughter. You had chosen this life, together, and it was better than any dream you had ever dared to hope for.
As the sun dipped lower, painting the sky in hues of pink and orange, your eldest daughter ran up to you, her cheeks flushed with excitement. “Mama! Look what we found!”
She held up a small flower she had picked from the yard, and you crouched down to examine it, your heart swelling with pride at her joy over such a simple thing.
“It’s beautiful,” you told her, smoothing back a stray curl from her face.
She beamed, darting off again to join her siblings, and you stood back up, feeling Charlie’s presence beside you, steady and strong.
“Two daughters, a son, and two dogs,” he repeated softly, his voice filled with that same awe he always carried when he talked about your family. “You’ve always had the best dreams.”
You leaned into him, your fingers intertwined, as the last light of the day faded. “And you’ve always made them come true.”
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@bamfkeeper has some of the sweetest kurt wagner and bamf content. so wholesome 💙
SFW Headcannons: Kurt and his Bamfs
a/n: Obviously I love the bamfs, and I had to do some of these with them because I adore them and I want my own army of them, damnit. Depictions heavily taken from Nightcrawler (2014) comic series. Pretty hasty, just a fun little set of headcannons. I hope you enjoy <3
The bamfs were something you hadn't anticipated, there were so many and their origin was difficult to wrap your head around. Kurt tried to explain it, but you were distracted by the curious bamfs staring at you.
They were adorable, about a dozen? Maybe more? They all were curious, they looked at you with big, round eyes. They seemed so innocent, and you couldn't help but smile.
Kurt was skeptical, they usually weren't this well behaved. You adored these little guys, and welcomed them like a horde of puppies rushing to you. They all jumped on you and made cooing noises as they played, like actual puppies. They were so playful, you didn't understand why Kurt was confused.
That was until you realized that the bamfs were as mischievous as they were playful. They were little gremlins, slightly destructive, and they tended to get into trouble like toddlers.
The bamfs don't speak, but they make an array of noises. Coos, squeaks, hisses, trills, etc. They communicate mostly through noises you come to recognize and body language.
They were a handful, they would make messes and look guilty after. You wanted to scold them, but their big round eyes looked up and that guilt got to you. You forgave them of course, Kurt sometimes says you have to be a little more firm with them or they will always guilt trip you to get away with things.
You didn't care. They practically adopted you as their mama.
There are lots of them, but you always show them equal love and affection. They are pretty needy for it, and like feeling pampered in the way that you treat them.
The bamfs get jealous easy too.
They are protective of you, just like Kurt, and they won't hesitate to keep you safe the best they can. They hiss and the fur on their backs raise a little.
Don't be fooled by their small size, they are like blue darts, they are incredibly hard to fight if they attack.
Each one has their own personality. They are all playful and a handful of troublemakers, but each one has something that makes them unique. More sensitive, more artistic, more sneaky, etc.
You love sleeping now because you have a big nest full of small blue bamfs curling up against you. They're so fuzzy and warm, you hold as many as you can to your chest while they rest pile around you.
Some bamfs stay behind when Kurt goes away just to keep you company.
You really do love taking care of them, and Kurt loves to watch you love on the bamfs. He thinks it's endearing and sweet.
He doesn't understand how you seem to get the bamfs to do what you say. They listen to him, but normally he has to say something over and over before they decide to listen. With you, it's instantaneous. You ask them to calm down, they do. You ask them to stop fighting, they do. It boggles him how they just obey you so easily.
Part of him thinks they only obey you to annoy him even further, and that might be true, but they also care a lot about you and they want nothing but to see you happy.
Also these things can EAT. They consume so much food you think their little tummies are going to explode. They have a strong liking for popcorn and sweets, to which Kurt tries to limit because hyper bamfs are extremely difficult to deal with.
However, a dozen or so begging you with their eyes is so hard to say no to.
And thus, you have a house full of bamfs bouncing off the walls.
You have a lot of fun with the bamfs, they can be a bit overwhelming from time to time, but at the end of the day when you get into bed and they all come snuggling close to you, you know it's worth it.
Thanks for reading.
*BAMF*
dividers by @/adornedwithlight
Cover photo from Nightcrawler #1 (2014)
a scene from my fic... i just love the idea of him turning soft <3
thinking about the softness of matt’s love.
the way he would try so hard to keep you out of harms way, everything in his life is so chaotic he just wants your relationship to be peaceful. for both your sake and his.
waking up with him behind you, soft morning kisses and his low gravely voice when he says ‘g’morning’. everything being so slow, so loving and soft with him.
slow dancing in his loft when he finally has a night off to spend with you. you can see in his smile how truly happy he finally is, and he can hear the way your heart skips a beat when he laughs.
the way he comes home, and the first think he thinks to do is hug you. cuddle and kiss you. he’s not stopped thinking about you all day and all he needs is to hear your voice to put his mind at ease.
foggy and karen noticing how he immediately smiles just at the mention of you. he only thinks of the softness of your touch, the lovingness in your voice when he’s at work and misses you. all he needs is to be truly loved and with you he’s finally found that feeling.
Summary: You saved one of the younger mutants during a mission, and now he's obsessed with you, much to Logan's dismay
Warnings: mainly Logan POV, jealousy, cuteness, fem!reader WC: 2.6k - MASTERLIST
----
Logan’s losing it; his thoughts are spiralling to the point where he wonders if he should be locked up.
At least, that’s what he thinks is happening as he watches the scene unfold in front of him. You’re standing near the edge of the mansion's garden, laughing softly as the kid—Johnny, a younger teenage mutant—tries to hand you a bouquet of hastily picked flowers. His face is flushed, eyes wide with admiration, and he’s practically vibrating with nervous energy as he looks up at you.
This punk, this moron, this lovesick blockhead, has been glued to your side ever since you saved him during the last mission.
It was supposed to be a standard run-of-the-mill rescue operation, but when things went south, and he was cornered, you swooped in like the hero you are and got him out unscathed. Now, the kid’s been following you around like a lost puppy, trying to win your attention, your approval—your everything. And it’s infuriating.
Logan can feel his hands clench into fists as he watches Johnny offer you the worst attempt at a bouquet he's ever seen, and sees the youngster's face turning a deeper shade of red as he mumbles something the older man can’t quite hear. Probably some dumb compliment, he thinks bitterly. The kid’s got no game.
You smile at Johnny. It's that soft, kind smile that always makes Logan’s heart skip a beat. But this time, all it does is fuel the fire raging within. He knows that smile isn’t just for him, but damn it, he wishes it were.
He wishes you’d tell the kid to scram, that you’re already spoken for, that you have a lovely boyfriend who could put together a way better bunch of flowers, but instead, you take the flowers with a gentle laugh, thanking the goblin like he’s just handed you a priceless treasure.
And somehow, the torment is never ending, it seems. Because later in the day he find’s himself lurking at the doorway of the mansion library, watching as you and Johnny sit together, heads bent over some book he know knows the little gremlin is just pretending to be interested in. That brat is soaking up every second of your attention, hanging on your every word, and it’s driving Logan up the wall.
“He’s just a kid,” you keep saying whenever he grumbles about it, but you don’t see it. You don’t see the way the bastard’s eyes light up whenever you smile at him, or how he leans in just a little too close when you’re explaining something to him. You don’t notice the small touches—the way his hand lingers on your arm when he’s pulling you somewhere, the way he looks at you like you’re the centre of his universe.
Logan sees it all, because he’s been there before. He knows exactly what Johnny’s feeling because he felt the same way when he first met you. Still does. It's that intense, all-consuming crush that makes you do stupid things just to be near the person you can’t stop thinking about.
“Logan, you’re staring,” Jean’s voice cuts through his thoughts, and he turns to see her smirking at him from across the hallway.
“I’m not starin’. Just keepin’ an eye on things,” he mutters, crossing his arms over his chest defensively.
She raises an eyebrow, clearly not buying it. “You’re jealous.”
He scowls at her. “I ain’t jealous of some kid.”
“Sure you’re not,” she says, her tone dripping with sarcasm. “Why don’t you just talk to her about it?”
Clenching his jaw, he knows she’s right but not wanting to admit it. “She doesn’t get it. She thinks it’s cute.”
“Maybe if you told her how you’re feeling, she’d understand,” Jean suggests gently, though there’s a knowing look in her eyes.
Huffing and turning away from the library, Logan has decided that he’s had enough of standing on the sidelines. He needs to do something before he loses his mind entirely. But it seems he can’t escape this torture, because he can’t even get five minutes alone with you.
He tried to get your attention after you finished up teaching your class, but before he could, the little devil ran in front of him and got it first. His eye twitches as he watches Johnny offer you another “gift,” this time a poorly folded paper crane. You take it with a smile, thanking him kindly, and Logan grits his teeth so hard he swears his molars might shatter.
“Hey, kid,” He grumbles, stepping forward with a growl in his throat that would send most people running. “Don’t you got somewhere else to be?”
Johnny looks up, momentarily startled by the sharp tone, but then just gives a nervous chuckle and scratches the back of his head. “Uh, no, sir. I was just, um, hanging out with her.”
“Yeah, well, she’s got things to do. Don’t you, darlin’?” Logan’s eyes flicker to you, hoping you’ll catch the hint and send the kid on his way.
But you don’t. You just laugh. A musical sound that makes him want to clamp his hand over your mouth because why should that devil's spawn get to hear your beautiful voice? He’s truly about to lose it.
“It’s fine, babe. Johnny’s just being sweet.”
Sweet. Logan wants to snort. Sweet is one word for it. Obnoxious, irritating, and clingy are a few others that come to mind.
“You got a crush or somethin’, boy?” His tone is laced with a dangerous edge as he crosses his arms over his chest, towering over the knucklehead. He’s trying not to outright scare him, but damn, he’s close to it.
Johnny turns beet red, stammering, “N-no, I just… she saved me, and I just wanted to say thank you, that’s all!”
Narrowing his eyes, a low snarl rumbles from his chest, and Logan takes a deliberate step forward, but before he can do more, you place a hand on his arm, pulling him back.
“Logan, that’s enough,” you say firmly, giving him a pointed look.
Well, there goes another piece of his sanity.
You’re too kind, too understanding. You just don't get it. To you, it’s just an innocent crush, something harmless, something that makes you smile. You think it’s nothing, and that only makes his blood boil more.
“Fine,” he finally mutters, stepping back, though his eyes never leave the teenager’s. Johnny seems to take that as some kind of begrudging acceptance and gives you another shy smile before scurrying off, likely to find the next token of his gratitude to bring to you.
Once he’s gone, Logan lets out a heavy sigh, rubbing a hand over his face. “This is drivin’ me nuts, you know that?”
You just chuckle again, stepping closer to him and slipping your arms around his waist. “It’s just a phase, I’m sure. He’ll get over it.”
Wrapping his arms around you tightly and pulling you in close, he feels a little bit better in your embrace, but his eyes still track where Johnny disappeared into the mansion. “He better. ’Cause if he doesn’t, I might lose my damn mind.”
You tilt your head up, kissing his jaw softly. “You’re jealous, aren’t you?”
He huffs, not wanting to admit it, but the truth is written all over his face. “Maybe a little.”
Smiling, you lean up to kiss him properly. “You’ve got nothing to worry about.”
Logan kisses you back, a little more possessively than usual, as if to remind himself that you’re his. And even as you melt into him, he can’t help but keep one eye open, scanning the garden for any sign of that kid returning. He might be crazy, but he’ll be damned if he lets some lovestruck teenager get between him and the woman he loves.
—
The next morning, the mansion is buzzing with its usual activity. You and Logan head to the dining hall for breakfast, with him looking a little more relaxed after a night of holding you close. But the moment you step into the room, he spots a certain demon sitting at a table, eyes locked on you as if he’s been waiting for this very moment.
Groaning under his breath, Logan mutters, “Not again,” before guiding you to a table near the windows, hoping Johnny won’t follow.
You take your seat, smiling up at your boyfriend as he pulls out his chair, and for a brief second, he dares to believe that he might actually get to enjoy a quiet breakfast with you. But just as he’s about to sit down beside you, Johnny swoops in out of nowhere, plopping down in Logan’s seat with a grin like he’s just won the lottery.
“Morning!” He chirps, completely oblivious to the thunderous look on the other man’s face.
Freezing in his place, Logan glares at the kid who’s now sitting where he was supposed to be. He mentally cycles through a list of unflattering nicknames—Useless Idiot, Captain Obnoxious, Motherfu—but none of them seem quite strong enough to capture his current feelings. “You’re in my seat, kid.”
Johnny blinks up at him, feigning innocence. “Oh, uh, sorry. I didn’t see your name on it.”
You can practically see the self-control it takes for Logan not to pick the kid up and toss him across the room. His fingers twitch at his sides, his claws itching to come out, but he holds back. For your sake, and only your sake.
“Johnny,” you start, trying to keep your voice gentle but firm, “you do know he is my boyfriend, right? And even if he wasn’t, I’m a bit too, uh, old for you?”
The young mutant's eyes widen, and for a split second, you think you might have gotten through to him. But then he glances over at Logan, his face scrunching up like he’s just eaten something sour.
“Yeah, but he’s, like, hella old,” The idiot blurts out, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper as if the mutant standing right there can’t hear every word.
Logan’s expression darkens, a storm brewing in his eyes as his jaw tightens to the point where you can almost hear his teeth grinding. Hella old? Is this guy serious?
He's dealt with all kinds of enemies—mutants, monsters, government assassins—but nothing, nothing has tested his patience like this hellspawn has been. “What did you just say?” he growls menacingly.
Johnny, either incredibly brave or incredibly stupid, doesn’t back down. “I mean, no offense, but you’ve got a lot of… uh, experience, you know? And you’re like centuries old. Maybe she needs someone closer to her age.”
That’s the last straw. Logan’s eyes flash with anger and something else—something more vulnerable that you rarely see. A part of him knows the gremlin’s just talking out of his ass, but the words hit a little too close to home, stirring up old insecurities he usually keeps buried deep.
Without another word, he slams his hand down onto the table, the sound echoing through the dining hall like a gunshot. The room falls into stunned silence as he then storms out, his footsteps heavy and his anger radiating off of him in waves. He doesn’t look back, doesn’t acknowledge the whispers that follow in his wake. He just needs to get away before he does something he’ll regret.
“Logan, wait—” you call after him, but he’s already halfway out the door.
You turn back to Johnny, who’s now looking a little less confident and a lot more like he might have made a mistake. Sighing, you lean forward with a serious expression. “You can’t just say things like that. He’s not just my boyfriend. He’s the person I love.”
Looking down at the table, his face falls, and he begins fiddling with the napkin in his lap. “I didn’t mean to make him mad. I just thought—You saved me and I felt something…I thought maybe you’d feel something for me too.”
You soften, reaching out to pat his hand. “Johnny, you’re a sweet kid, but you’ve got to understand that Logan’s the one I’m with, and no one can replace him.”
He nods slowly, the reality of the situation finally sinking in. “I get it,” he mumbles. “I just…”
A small smile tugs at your lips. “You’ll find someone your own age who’s perfect for you. But for now, you need to give us some space, okay?”
Johnny nods again, this time more resolutely. “Okay. I’m sorry.”
“It’s alright. Just… try not to instigate anything else. I’ll go talk to him.” You give him one last reassuring smile before heading toward the exit.
When you step out into the hallway, you barely have a second to process your thoughts and decide where to look before you’re suddenly pressed up against the wall. A gasp escapes your lips, but it’s quickly swallowed by Logan’s mouth on yours. The surprise melts away as the intensity of his kiss overtakes your senses, and you instinctively wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him closer.
His kiss is possessive and fierce. You can feel the frustration, the jealousy, the need to claim what’s his, pouring out of him with every movement of his lips against yours. For a moment, you lose yourself in the heat of it, letting the world around you fade as you focus solely on him.
Then, through the haze of the kiss, the practical part of your brain kicks in. You pull back just enough to murmur against his lips, “Logan… we’re gonna get caught.”
He growls softly, his lips trailing down to your jaw, his breath hot against your skin. “Let them see,” he mutters between kisses. “Maybe then that damn dunce will get the hint.”
You laugh, though the sound is cut off as he captures your lips again, his hands gripping your waist as if he’s afraid to let go. “Babe, really,” you whisper, trying to sound serious but failing as your body responds eagerly to his touch. “People are gonna see…”
“I don’t care,” he grumbles, his lips brushing against the sensitive spot just below your ear, making you involuntarily shiver against him. “Shoulda thrown that little shit out on his ass… let him know who you belong to.”
“You’re jealous of a teenager,” you tease, though the words come out breathless and almost lost in the intensity of the moment.
Logan pulls back just enough to look at you, his eyes dark. “Don’t like him sniffin’ around you, thinkin’ he’s got a shot.”
You smile up at him, your fingers threading through his hair as you pull him back down for another kiss. “You don't need to feel threatened by him. You’re the only one I want.”
He huffs softly, his lips brushing against yours as he mutters, “Damn right I am.”
“C’mon,” you murmur, gently pushing against his chest. “Let’s go somewhere a little more private, huh?”
He hesitates for a moment, his eyes flickering back toward the dining hall, as if half-expecting Johnny to come barreling out any second. But then he nods, taking your hand and leading you down the hallway, away from prying eyes. His grip on your hand is tight, territorial, and you can’t help but smile as you follow him.
As you walk together, you give his hand a squeeze. “Logan?”
“Yeah?” He glances over at you, his expression softening slightly.
“I love you, you know that?” You say it with that pretty grin of yours, and the way his eyes warm in response makes your heart flutter.
“Yeah,” he replies, his voice quieter now, more sincere. “I love you too.”
The remaining tension melts away, leaving just the two of you walking hand in hand, ready to steal a few more precious moments together.
----
A/N: this was really fun to write!
how sweet
went down a rabbit hole reading about wolverines last night so i made this w screenshots of some cool things i found
another sad jjk fics.
honestly, anything with suguru is just depressing knowing that he's gone.
⥅ tags. fem!reader, non sorcerer au, university au, domestic fluff, heavy angst, unreliable narrator, multi-chapter
⥅author's n. one of my favorite pieces of angst i've ever written. apologies in advance, but i hope u enjoy it as much as i enjoyed writing it ♡
"will i see you again?"
"of course," you smiled through the tears, "even if the skies fall, or a huge wave takes over the city, you'll never get rid of me."
his hold tightened, your cheek pressing against his chest as you both tried to calm yourselves down.
"you're my sunrise, and i'm your sunset," he whispered in your ear, "never forget that."
part one. sunrise (her)
part two. sunset (him)
Gojo Satoru.
(that's all I have to say)
mhm
i know he's engaged...
but god damn!
and if i wrote a professor!qimir au what then?!?!?!!!
that scene in s1 *chefs kiss*
200% hollow purple
how guilty my baby gumi must feel
mentor
as sad as it is, it's beautiful...
loml - Gojo Satoru
summary: You read the letter that Satoru left behind, his last words to you, with all the love he had.
tags: heavy angst, character death, no happy ending, canon universe, manga spoilers (I guess)
note: sorry… but I got emotional with Gojo writing letters for his students and this came to me. Sorry again 🩶
Jujutsu Kaisen materialist
You are the love of my life
That’s what Satoru would say on a spring day when you were 20.
You are the love of my life
He would say whenever he kissed you before sleeping.
You are the love of my life
He would whisper while embracing you, after a long day of missions.
You are the love of my life
He would say whenever he had the opportunity, it didn't matter if it was just the two of you or in front of the whole world.
You are the love of my life
He said before leaving you to fight Sukuna on that cold Christmas Eve.
To the loml
That was the first thing your eyes saw on the letter that Shoko handed you. The loml You read again. And again.
You smiled a bit, “loml” why not write love of my life instead?
Your hands were cold, you blamed the cold winter, but the reality was that you were frozen staring at that envelope, your hands unable to tear the paper to read what was inside. Your chest hurt, the cold air stabbed your lungs like daggers, and you could barely breathe.
You made a small opening with your nails and pulled out the paper, which was neatly folded. With your eyes already stinging, you unfolded it.
“To the love of my life,
I don’t know how to start this, I don’t even know how to put down everything I want to tell you. But god, I pray you never have to read this silly and embarrassing letter.
But if you do… I’m sorry, I didn’t get to keep my promise, I’m really sorry.
You crying? Please don’t do it, you look beautiful too when you cry, but thinking about how much pain I’m probably causing you breaks my heart.
I will try to make you smile with this letter, is that alright? I hope you said yes.
Remember when we met? It was the first day of our first year, you looked so beautiful, your red cheeks and shy smile. I don’t believe in love at first sight but I think that what I fell for you right after seeing you was love, light. You were mesmerizing.
You still are.
Now, you remember how Suguru used to look like a complete emo boy during that time, with all his hair down and everything? You know, I used to be so jealous when you were combing his hair. I wanted to be him so badly, but my hair was too short. Thank god he learned how to do it himself.
But honestly, I told him to, he was getting on my nerves.”
A chuckle escaped your lips as you read that, you knew that at some point Satoru felt a bit jealous of Suguru, because you used to spend more time together.
But the truth is that Suguru was always trying to help you with Satoru, he was his best friend and he knew him better than anyone. You regret never telling Satoru about that, about the fact you were both crushing each other since the very beginning.
Looking up to the sky you tried to make your tears disappear, but they didn’t. You sniffed your nose and kept on reading the letters that were already covered with tears from your eyes.
“Remember when I took Tsumiki and Megumi in? We had been dating for what? 4 months? Your face was a poem when I showed up at your apartment with two kids and presented them to you.
You were an excellent mother to them, they loved you so much.
I remember the birthdays, how we would prepare their cakes or in Christmas, how we used to sneak out of bed to leave the presents for them. I would always thought; oh god, I want to marry her. I want to spend the rest of my days with her. Have a family with her.
But you know, reality always hit me the second after. What our jobs are, the risks, everything… And I always wondered. Do I want to put you through that? What if I leave one day? I didn’t want my children to grow up without their father or mother.
I hated it, but I loved it. I loved fighting curses and strong opponents but I hated not knowing what it was to have a normal life, a normal relationship.
I know you used to hate how I used to spy on you whenever you had a solo mission, but every time you went on a solo mission I was scared, terrified. I was afraid that the phone would ring and Shoko would tell me that you were no longer there. It scared me so much.
But now the one who must have been truly scared was you… I just hope you didn’t see the fight, but I know how stubborn you are and you were probably there, without blinking. I’m sorry I made you suffer, I don’t know what happened, but I’m sorry you’re crying for me.
I’ll say it again, I hope you never read this letter, because it was never necessary…
In the end I didn’t make you laugh with the letter, right?
Forgive me, sweetheart.
I love you, more than anything in this life. You are and always will be the love of my life. But if I leave and I’m not with you anymore, please, don’t close yourself off, don’t isolate yourself.
Live, be happy, smile, because that smile of yours is the warmest thing in this world.
Light up everyone else's world, just like you did with mine when we were 15 and you gave me that smile at our first meeting.
I love you forever
— The love of your life, Satoru.”
A sob escaped your lips and you pressed the letter to your chest. Your face was completely soaked by your tears and your breathing was ragged, you could barely breathe.
“Why Satoru? Why you?” You said between sobs.
You wanted that life he was talking about, you wanted to have him with you again, why couldn't it be like that?
He was gone and you were there, holding a piece of paper he left behind, with his last words, his last thoughts.
You didn’t want to let it go, you couldn’t. If you let him go… You would start to forget things, moments you lived, his smell, his laugh, his voice, his look, you couldn't let him go. You couldn't let go of the love of your life. You didn't want to.
The minutes started to pass and the sun, which was once shining on the sky, was now gone.
Your name was called. “You have to enter or you will catch a cold…”
“Just a bit more…” You said and you heard the sigh.
“C’mon.” You felt how they took your arm and pulled you in. “You need to take your medicine, remember?” You nodded. “That letter is really special to you, right? You always read it.”
“Yeah…” You whispered.
“From someone special in your life?”
Yeah… from someone you already could only remember from pictures, from someone whose voice was a distant memory, from someone whose smell was long gone, whose laugh wasn’t around anymore.
And it hadn’t been around for the last 60 years…
“Yeah… from the love of my life…” You paused. “The loss of my life...” You whispered.
The room felt silent for an instant. “Your son and grandkids are here…” The nurse whispered.
And a faint smile appeared on your face as you looked at the door. “Hi my sweet babies…” The kids ran towards you and jumped to your bed.
“Granny! Could you tell us the stories about you and your friends fighting those monsters?”
“Again?” You smiled.
“Yeah, please!”
“Alright, alright…” You chuckled. “So long time ago…”
he's not coming back. it's so melancholic.
a/n: this takes place in chapter 268, soo sort of spoilers ahead? also long live gojo satoru; gojo leaves you a letter 🙏
“y/n-sensei, there is a letter for you as well!”
that catches your attention, and you look up at the first years. you tilt your head slightly, and yuuji hands you an envelope.
you gently take it from him, and the first thing you notice is “wifey” written on it then the doodle of satoru with his blindfold on. you feel your throat tighten, and your hands shake slightly.
you let out a small breath then shakily open the letter.
hey, honey!!
it first reads.
I feel like there is still much I didn’t tell you in our last meeting, so here I, your beautiful and handsome husband, am writing them down.
you swallow lightly, and a small smile appears on your face as you imagine satoru saying that, then you continue to the next line.
first, I changed all your computer passwords to variations of “satoruisthebest” at one point. your confusion was so cute!!
you quirk an eyebrow at the admission, but when you rack your brain, you remember that one day when you couldn’t log into your computer.
what you vividly remember was satoru being sat beside you the whole time, and now that you think about it. he was smiling so widely the entire time, letting out small chuckles every now and then. oh, that sneaky man.
“satoru, I am telling you it’s broken!”
“sweetheart, we spent over 2000$ on that. if it broke, then we could easily sue the company,” he chuckled, arm wrapping around your shoulder and pulling you closer.
“2 year guaranteed top performance my ass!”
you smile at the memory. it was pretty satoru of him to do that. your eyes then move to continue reading.
second, there are times when I would tell Megumi that you would be coming with me, then he would turn and leave me when he found out I was tricking him.
your eyes glance up at said boy who is sat in across of you. he made it out alive, despite everything. he suffered so much, but he made it.
it makes you relieved, and you can imagine satoru being bloody proud of him and saying something along the lines of ‘you handed sukuna’s ass to him, very cool!’
no matter how much megumi had frowned and grimaced at satoru’s presence or antics. it rooted itself as something—safe and familiar.
you can’t count on your hands the times when you and satoru would visit the siblings, and nobody really said it, but these meetings did all of you a favor, a chance to kind of wind down. maybe act like death might actually be blooming tomorrow.
it feels like just yesterday when megumi would cling to you when he got really sad or nervous, after so much time spent getting comfortable with each other.
he grew up well, you think, eyes gliding to next.
third, I hid your uniform every two to three weeks, so you have to stay with me.
at that, your eyes widen a bit. satoru’s schedule was pretty packed, but he somehow managed to squeeze time for quality time between you two.
it tugged on your heartstrings, and you made sure he knew how much you appreciated it, not a single space on his face left without a kiss. however, finding out that he went out of his way to make you rest and stay.
satoru’s care really showed in his actions, and you feel like this is the biggest proof of it.
“satoru, have you seen my uniform?”
“nope! maybe, it is a sign to stay home today? you’ve been working so hard, wifey!”
you cupped his face, pulled him down to your height, and kisses his cheek, “you’ve been working harder, ‘toru. let me take off some of the load at least.”
“we could both stay!”
“you’re kidding, right?”
“I already told yaga; I miss you!”
you try to stop the reminiscing further and try to compose yourself before reading the rest.
fourth, I’m the one who kept adjusting the thermostat. I just wanted an excuse to cuddle.
a fond yet melancholy smile appears on your face. you kinda figured that one out. satoru’s favorite pastime was cuddling, so it’s no surprise that he would go out of his way to create the need for it even further.
add to that, once you went to get some green tea and saw him from the corner of your eye teleport to the thermostat, click something, then teleport back to bed.
you figured that the room being chilly that night was not an exception in the middle of july.
“babeeee, it’s so cold! let’s cuddle!”
“maybe the problem is with the thermostat?”
“I checked! I think cuddling is the best solution.”
you giggle as you recall the moment, one of many similar. your heart feels a bit lighter as you go through the letter. something satoru managed to always do even in person.
he would plaster sticky notes, get you trinkets, and even pull pranks on other just to see you smile. feeling more encouraged, you keep on reading the letter.
then you feel your chest constrict so tightly that you might just throw up.
fifth, I am really gonna fucking miss you.
you read the line over again, and you purse your lip in hopes of silencing any noise that may come out as you feel the lump in your throat return, even worse than before. your breathing starts getting more difficult.
your grip on the letter tightens, and you find yourself thinking back to the good times. memories of late nights spent in each other’s arms, thinking about everything and nothing at once.
hushed whispers of confessions and quiet giggles as you reminisced on your highschool days. tight hugs when recalling the sad moments and the departure of a certain someone.
“you know, y/n, I think we might just be made for each other,” he said one night. you hummed and looked him in the eyes.
“three am thoughts?”
“three am admissions,” he grins slightly, “I am made for you, and you’re made for me.”
you remember him pulling you closer and kissing your forehead, while you teased, “and what would you need little old me for, so much that I got made?”
he feigns thinking then closes his eyes, burying his face in your shoulder, “grounding me.”
I love you. I really do, but you should know that already, right?
your eyes drift down to the corner of the paper, and that is when you feel your tears start free-falling. there is drawn a chibi satoru besides a chibi you and between them is a heart.
the chibi satoru is giving yours a big smooch, while she laughs. you never thought that the day your jealousy burns would be because of drawings, and drawings of you and your own husband, nonetheless.
“but wow, gojo-sensei is shit at writing letters,” you hear nobara remark.
megumi responds with a small chuckle, “I am fine with mine.”
“what about you, y/n-sensei?—”
the trio becomes silent as you let out a sob. a watery smile makes its way up your face as you kiss the letter gently and murmur, “so shitty.”
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do not copy or plagiarize or I will tell @callmemirro
i had to reblog, couldn't help myself
Baby gojo reacts to: megumi!🖤🐺
“just for three hours, can you do it?”
“…yeah.”
megumi stares at the blinking miniature of his sensei quietly, as the baby looks back at him too in silence.
“well then!” gojo claps his hands before turning to you. “let’s go, sweets! we have a willing, trusty babysitter to take care of him!”
you shoot your husband a glare before turning to megumi. “sorry, megumi. we have to go to school and investigate the recent cursed spirits outbreak, and it doesn’t feel right to bring him there.”
“i don’t mind, nee-san,” megumi replies to you almost nonchalantly, throwing a glance at your baby in his hold. “i’ll keep an eye on him.”
that’s what megumi said, but even he doesn’t know what he’ll do with a baby in his apartment. at first, he puts the kid on his bed and he immediately sits up straight and turns to him.
“what?” he questions the baby as if he could answer him. “do you feel cold?”
the munchkin is dressed in a frog onesie with little ears, so maybe he doesn’t feel cold, megumi thinks. in the next half an hour, he and the baby are in staring match, as he doesn’t even squeak once.
“you must be bored here,” megumi sighs, starting to feel bad that he can’t entertain him. “maybe i should ask her to accompany me next time…” his thoughts flit to the chirpy girl in his class, whom he knows will have many ideas to humor a baby.
maybe it can also be an excuse to spend time with her too.
suddenly, baby scoots closer to his side and leans to him, closing his eyes— and megumi feels warm inside.
“ah,” a small smile lights his face at the sight of this cute creature depending on him so trustingly. he pulls him closer and pats his back, before wrapping his arms around him to keep him in place.
“okay, let’s sleep together then.”
as a psychology student who learns physiology, im shook.
didn't realise the space inside the body was this tight. damn...
i miss gojo but this helps...
a series of episodes of your life with the strongest sorcerer throughout the past and present
genre: canon compliant (2006-2018), mostly fluff, suggestive content, hurt/comfort
more: moodboard | extra scenarios 💌 | reader’s CT | ko-fi
p.s. got an idea for the next entry? drop it in my askbox!
☆⌒.*・ entry year : 2006—2009
entry # attraction ➴ to think it started with your crush on his best friend...
entry # rivals... in love? ➴ gojo is in shambles—so suguru might have a crush on you too?
entry # say no! ೀ valentine's special ➴ valentine's is around the corner and word has it that you're going on a date with geto...? no way! gojo is going to make sure that you're saying no! ever wonder how gojo finally gets you to become his? be prepared for a confession of a lifetime!
entry # stupid liar ➴ no way. impossible. you couldn't possibly be jealous of gravure idol gojo likes so much now... or could you?
entry # unconcealable ➴ your boyfriend may not show it, but the six eyes are his burden to bear. you know it firsthand when he falls into your arms for the first time
entry # love wins all (soon!) ➴ haibara's death. geto's defection. nanami's leaving. when everything goes wrong in your third year, the last thing you would expect is your boyfriend breaking up with you. but to gojo, this is a moment of truth—and through this, you'll realize why he chooses to stay with you for good
⭑ — ☁️ side stories
rivals... in love? — extended cut!
hot, hot summer!
☆⌒.*・ entry year : 2010—2017
entry # finally mine 18+ (soon!) ➴ gojo says he’ll make you droll when you have your first time together. you are determined to seduce him to turn the tables!
entry # stay with me (soon!) ➴ comes the biggest conflict in your relationship when you realize that you might be pregnant. this event, for better or worse, will change the trajectory of your relationship forever
entry # wife her up (soon!) ➴ it's a canon event that animals and babies aren't particularly fond of the strongest sorcerer… but you, you’re always going to be his no matter what
entry # insatiable 18+ ➴ your boyfriend is hot and wild, and he has one problem: he always finds you too pretty to resist
entry # forever ➴ the three times he asked you to marry him
entry # newlyweds 18+ ➴ you and your new husband make out in the most inappropriate place possible
entry # kyoto: the onsen incident 18+ ➴ it's your first trip as a married couple and you should be excited—until a shameless woman makes a move on your husband!
entry # to my beloved ➴ bad days don't mean the end of the world, and your husband is making sure you know that
entry # my wife, all mine ೀ valentine's special ➴ years pass, but one thing that's constant is how annoyingly your husband is in love with you. with the new school year comes a fresh batch of first years, and gojo is determined to make you look at his way—he's way better than those youngsters, and he's going to show you just that!
entry # wedding anniversary 18+ ➴ seven years of dating, two years of wedded bliss, and gojo is having his greatest existential crisis yet... all because this year, you apparently have forgotten the most important day of your lives
entry # daddy-to-be ➴ in which you're worried about how he'd react to you carrying his baby
entry # sweet felicity ➴ what do you get the man who already has everything for his birthday?
entry # protect ➴ the word “protect” now means so much more to him
⭑ — ☁️ side stories
05.56 P.M — how gojo gets arrested by the police
07.55 A.M — gojo cheated on you last night
12.34 A.M — blindfold play 18+
12.55 P.M — first ultrasound
04.18 A.M — six weeks pregnant with gojo’s baby
08.45 P.M — cockwarming 18+
11.07 P.M — what if you get a divorce?
03.12 A.M — ungodly hour cravings
07.30 P.M — gojo vs your pregnancy hormones
before the dawn — finding out about geto's ultimate betrayal hits you hard
08.25 P.M — at the end of this pregnancy journey, you fall in love with your husband once again
baby pics — photo album of baby satoru
⭑ — extras 💌 pregnancy diaries ❀
☆⌒.*・ entry year : 2018—present
special entry # through megumi’s eyes (soon!) ➴ megumi’s life ends and starts when the strongest sorcerer takes him in. see your love story through his eyes, his hidden feelings, and extended scenes of several love entries!
entry # baby ➴ a domestic life with your husband and baby
entry # heaven's fury ➴ sometimes you forget that your husband has burdens as the strongest sorcerer alive. when he goes back home from a bad day and you're the first person he comes contact to, you're made aware of it once again
entry # wife ➴ in which the new batch of first years are unaware that their eccentric teacher’s wife is the pretty woman roaming the school grounds
entry # sick days ➴ who holds the fort when you fall sick? of course, it's your lovesick husband and baby!
entry # mission: baby steps! ➴ the three times gojo tried to make his baby love him (and how he miserably fails)
entry # the babysitters club ➴ in which yuji, megumi and nobara are tasked with the most important mission ever by their teacher—watching over his baby son!
entry # throughout heaven and earth ➴ a sudden mission. a curse beyond your grade. all hell breaks loose when gojo realizes that there are hidden machinations behind the incident that befalls you
entry # baby to the rescue ➴ in which gojo recruits your baby son to “save” you from a credit card salesman
entry # beach day 18+ ➴ in which the three of you (you, your husband and baby) spend the weekend on the beach!
entry # treasure ➴ the strongest sorcerer meets his match in his petulant son, who inherits his six eyes and is having trouble with them
entry # curiosity 18+ ➴ when gojo is found out by his own son during your nighttime activities
entry # all of me ➴ you understand that some things in marriage just needs compromise. and he soon understands too, when you're at your most vulnerable and he fails to be by your side when you need him the most
⭑ — ☁️ side stories
09.45 P.M — how scared he is to lose you
11.10 P.M — meeting the newborn for the first time
06.27 A.M — gojo with his baby in the morning
06.20 P.M — baby doesn’t let gojo kiss you
11.52 A.M — gojo will show baby who is here first
10.00 A.M — gojo trying to get his baby say his first word
02.33 P.M — baby going to the aquarium for the first time
07.02 A.M — morning with you and his toddler son
08.12 A.M — why your son isn’t in your wedding
© CHULUOYI. do not copy, repost, modify, or translate my works in any platforms.
how did he manage this is unbelievable 👏
that’s crazy
love...
隣の.....??? (トトロパロ)
I have been looking at this all day 😉
I only took one thing away from deadpool and wolverine and its this image:
I could look at this all day
im dead
deadpool gojo & wolverine nanami