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almostempty · 8 months ago

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Never made it as a wise man

(joel miller x f!reader)

Description: Joel solves your car troubles for free, and you try to return the favor with a homecooked meal. When you accidentally interrupt his jerkoff session, you take a chance and help him out.

Note: y’all are out here answering god’s toughest questions, like what if emotionally unavailable Joel was loved unconditionally? or what if Joel was the Mothman?, and I deeply appreciate that.

However, today, I am here to answer a question that nobody asked– What if Joel was a divorced dad rock kinda guy?

You know, like, listening to Nickelback on an old-school boombox in his garage, or unironically singing Creed on the way to work, or bonding with Ellie over Papa Roach? And also, (inspired by a genius) what if he was a little bit pathetic?

Anyway, I present to you: divorced dad rock dilf, Joel, ta-da! (my humble submission for @hellishjoel‘s hot dilf summer challenge) obvs dedicated to: @auteurdelabre

ao3: read here | masterlist: here | part 2 here | part 3 here

Tags/warnings: AU no outbreak divorced Joel x f!reader, Sarah is not mentioned, but Ellie is your adult coworker, reader is clueless about cars and so am I, gratuitous smut and horny thoughts, implied jorkin’ joel but no witnesses, hand job, fingering, premature ejaculation, touch starved kinda loserish but hot divorced dilf joel, he’s a real tiddy guy in this one and idk why it just happened, pwp, is it a crackfic? maybe, but i meant it wholeheartedly so idk

WC: 4.2k

You pull onto the long driveway, hoping to see Joel’s truck. You forgot to text first to see if he would be around, but he did tell you to come by if you ever needed anything. You mostly just hope he’ll be willing to accept your gift.

Last week, he’d helped you out by fixing your car. He told you what the issue was, but he might as well have been speaking another language when he described it. You had already brought coffee and a plate of cookies to your coworker Ellie to thank her for dragging you to Joel’s to ask for help. Being in a new town was hard enough, but you had no idea how you would handle the price for diagnostics, let alone whatever the repair would’ve cost. You tried to offer Joel the cash you had as a thanks, but he wouldn’t accept it. You tried to argue with him, but Ellie told you it wasn’t worth arguing with him. He wouldn’t budge. Instead, he had offered to change your oil for you, making you feel even more indebted to him.

At first, the most you got out of Ellie for intel on Joel was that he was the one responsible for you having to listen to “One Last Breath” and “Lips of an Angel” at ungodly early hours. Ellie claimed that her music taste was deeply influenced by Joel, and somehow, Ellie is always in charge of the music at work. When you rolled your eyes calling it divorced dad rock, she let it slip that you were right about that.

That explains a lot when you remember the brief time you spent in his house and shop. The house was clean inside but not tidy. Stray beer bottles and travel mugs dotted the counter and coffee table. But the shop had all the Divorced Dad Barbie accessories.

The project car and crates of assorted parts. The beer fridge and the plastic lawn chairs in the corner for bullshitting with whoever stopped by. The boombox on the workbench with the stack of CDs. And the fading calendar from another decade with the naked woman kneeling on the beach.

You hadn’t been able to stop your eyes from darting to her sultry expression and swimsuit model-perfect breasts when Joel had been explaining what he was going to do to your car. You wondered if the heat burning in your cheeks had given you away, but he didn’t notice then. Ellie sure did, though, and she had rolled her eyes at you, noting it had been up so long she even forgot it was there.

Luckily, Ellie didn’t notice your eyes lingering on Joel’s body. You weren’t trying to be a creep, but the way his arm flexed when he opened the hood of your car gave you some feral brand of intrusive thoughts. The ratty band t-shirt and the faded jeans were working for him, too, or at least they were doing something for you. Time slowed when your eyes trailed over his arms and down the muscles of his broad back. He just seemed so… solid. You finally understood what your friends back home meant when they said they wanted to climb a man like a tree. You had jumped a little when Ellie slammed the fridge behind you and shouted at Joel about how he can’t just live in the shop drinking shitty beer and eating beef jerky. She had grabbed your arm to drag you to the house for an iced tea while he worked.

Her comment sparked your idea. You figured Joel must be a utilitarian type. He probably lives on frozen pizzas–or even worse, those Hungry-Man frozen TV dinners–instead of making himself something fresh. Maybe he’s one of those guys who got really into smoking meats instead. Either way, you hope the lasagna you made from scratch and the other tray of cookies will be an acceptable thank you for his help. He can’t refuse it if you already made it, right?

You pull up next to a truck, assuming it’s his, and that he’s home. Before you grab the tray, you pause to check your reflection and adjust your breasts in your white tank top, making sure your cleavage pokes out as temptingly as possible.

You check yourself in the mirror with a look. Why does it matter what you look like? It’s not like you’re trying to fuck your only (almost) friend’s dad, right? Although she calls him by his first name, not Dad, so maybe there’s like a loophole or something if she’s adopted. You think about the calendar model and her perfect tits hanging on the wall over his tools. It can’t hurt to just do a little harmless flirting, right? Maybe you aren’t even his type anyway.

After knocking on the door a couple of times, you frown, wondering if he’s not home. On the way back to your car, with your head hung in defeat, your ears perk up at the sound of something clanging in the shop. Of course!

You skitter back to the front porch to leave your goods by the door and head for the shop to find that divorced DILF–Joel, you mean. It’s sweltering out, and sweat is beading on your chest after only a few minutes in the heat. The closer you get, the more easily you can make out the sound of his little CD player blasting another brooding, raspy ballad sung by a white man with a troubled love life.

The garage door is shut, so you knock on the door on the side of the building. You wait a minute before testing your luck and opening the door yourself. Assessing the shop, you don’t see your man, sorry, Joel, at first glance. The music blasts, and the calendar model gives you the same impish smirk through her false lashes and a layer of dust, but there’s no Joel. The evidence clearly dictates that he’s in here somewhere, as his tools are strung around his project, the lights are on, and a beer with a sweating label sits on the edge of the workbench.

You aren’t trying to be sneaky. You didn’t think to holler and announce your presence over the music. Plus, you didn’t fully get your bearings the last time you were here. Now, you can pick up a few more details as your eyes absorb everything they can about anything that gives you a hint about who this guy is.

The guy that’s been haunting your dreams for a week. Last week, when you walked back to the shop with Ellie to check on your car, you nearly tripped, watching Joel wipe the sweat off his face with the bottom of his shirt. You had just caught a glimpse of the trail of hair disappearing under his jeans, but it was enough to replay in your mind every night as you created your little scenarios to carry you off to sleep.

The scent memory was somehow worse. It was so easy to transport yourself back in time with the thought of the sweaty musk and the grease or oil smeared on his fingers. It shouldn’t turn you on, right?

You remember thinking he seemed so knowledgeable when describing the issue. You had no idea what he was talking about, but his low voice and patience were enough to tell you he could talk you through anything.

You notice a few other details as you enter his sacred space today. The woodworking projects, the band posters, and the pictures with Ellie and other family members tacked to the wall over another workbench.

Still, no Joel, however.

You circle the partially disassembled project truck and see a door to another room. It would be the office if the shop were a professional business. There’s a window along the wall, but instead of a boss watching an employee, it’s you hoping to see that brawny man and his dark curls.

As you step closer, you nearly squeal. There he is. Well, at least, you can see the broad shoulders and back you’ve been picturing above you in bed. You practically skip to the door. It’s already open a crack, and you give it a knock, calling his name as it swings open from the force of your rapping knuckles.

The next moment is a blur.

“Shit, fuck, hold on!” Joel shouts gruffly as he slams the door in your face. But you already heard it. The phony wailing noises that came from the busted speaker on his phone.

You still face the closed door, trying to process the interaction before he wrenches the door back open. He’s breathing rapidly, chest rising and falling, as he looks at you with wide eyes that quickly narrow.

“What are you doing here?” he barks.

Your hands fall to your sides, and you start to step back, ready to turn and run.

He catches your fear and tries to adjust, but you’re faster.

“Sorry,” you mumble as you turn and try to dash away. Joel’s quick, too, though, and he grabs your wrist.

“Hey, wait,” he loosens his grip when you spin back towards him, “I just didn’t hear you comin’. Wasn’t expecting you.”

“Sorry,” you repeat, stuttering as you continue, “I-I just, uh, just wanted to say thanks for your help last week.” You stare at the floor. Unsure why you’re embarrassed, you feel so small after he saw your face and practically shouted at you.

“All right,” he rumbles. You’re too busy staring at the crack in the concrete floor to notice how his eyes are glued to your exposed skin. Or to see the blotchy red flush that crawls up his neck and toward his face.

But your brain starts to catch up. Joel might’ve snapped at you, but you’re the one that caught him in the act. You don’t lift your head, but your eyes trail over his stained and faded jeans until you’re studying his crotch.

Bingo. It’s almost too easy. You can make out the outline of his erection tucked up in his waistband. Even more glaring evidence is the open fly. You wish you had caught what he was watching. How does he like it? What does he search for when he wants to jerk off in the back office on a hot Saturday afternoon?

He clears his throat, and you snap your attention to his face. “Was there somethin’ you needed?” He asks.

“Yes.” You tell him you’ve got a lasagna that should get into a fridge before it reheats in the sun. He follows you toward the front door and into the house, not missing how your hips sway as you lead.

Once the tray is shoved into the fridge, nestled between some takeout containers, he turns to thank you. “You didn’t need to do all that,” he gruffs over the cookies and homemade meal.

You step back to lean against the counter, littered with mail and more coffee cups, and let yourself check him out up close. His faded Creed t-shirt has holes around the neck. He’s got that same sweaty man musk going on, and you wish you knew why that stirred your arousal, but your pussy lacks logic.

“I know, I know,” you reply, “but you really saved my ass with the car, and I wanted to do something for you. You know, some way to pay you back?”

“All right, well, thanks,” he trails off. He doesn’t seem to know what else to say. Maybe you should be on your way already, but he’s not ushering you out the door.

This time, you do catch when his eyes drop to your chest. There’s no way you’re imagining the tension between you as you stand in his kitchen while he stares at your barely clothed tits, right? Fuck it. You’re gonna go for it.

You take a step towards him. “I wasn’t sure if it was really enough,” your voice is soft and tempting, and your sweet perfume wafts towards him like a lust potion. Joel swallows thickly as you approach.

He knows you must’ve put it together, but he tried to delude himself. Maybe you couldn’t hear the theatrical screams of the woman he was watching get railed before he slammed the door in your face. He hopes all you heard was Chad Kroeger’s voice screaming, “This time I'm mistaken

For handin' you a heart worth breakin'” from the stereo.. on the other side of the shop.

“You worked so hard,” you continued with one final step, and now you’re nearly toe-to-toe in front of him. “There has to be something else I could do.” You’re so close to him. He forgets to respond. It takes all his power to keep his eyes on your face.

You have a wild urge to taste the sweat on his neck, but you keep your tongue to yourself. He hasn’t made any move to encourage you, but he hasn’t stopped you yet either, so you figure it’s worth taking a risk.

“Maybe you’ve got a problem I could help you with.” You go for it, reaching your hand out to palm at the bulge in his jeans.

Again, too many things happen at once. Joel snaps out a “What?” in disbelief. His hand circles your wrist tightly. His hips jerk, involuntarily bucking into your palm. Your glossy lips part into an “o” shape at the size of his not-quite-hard cock. And now you’re both locked into this position like statues.

His fingers stay firmly wrapped around your wrist, but he doesn’t pull you away. Your fingers squeeze over his jeans, and your eyes flash wide as you can feel his cock twitch and stiffen at your touch. The touch that rapidly overrides your better judgment, drowning you in want. Your clit twitches itself in response, your nipples strain under your thin tank top, and your eyelids feel heavy immediately.

“What are you doing?” His voice crackles like he hadn’t just used it. You slide your hand to pop the button on his jeans, and he releases your wrist as you flip it to slip your fingers under the waistband of his boxers in search of his cock.

“Let me help,” you say in more of a whispered tone. The searing heat between Joel’s legs makes you salivate. Your fingers graze coarse curls before you acquire your target, wrapping your palm and fingers around his thick shaft. His size has your cunt throbbing in your shorts.

Joel’s eyes are squeezed shut. He looks nearly in pain. You pull your hand back out to let the pool of saliva on your tongue drip into your palm.

“Jesus,” he breathes out, watching your lewd maneuver. “You wanna help?” He repeats your plea in the form of a question, a little dumbfounded. He’s trying to figure out what’s happening right now.

“I do,” you answer in a honeyed voice as you dig your hand back into his pants. He’s unable to respond with words as you swirl your palm over the head of his cock, mixing saliva and precome, but his body eggs you on. He bucks into your fist, and you work quickly, pumping his throbbing length. The slick noises are muffled by the layers of clothing, but the grunts that catch in his throat shoot piping-hot desire straight into your core.

He looks a little desperate, eyes slammed shut again, jaw slack, arms hanging uselessly at his side. And for god knows why, the entire scene pulls a moan from your lips. The sweet sound snaps Joel back to attention. His hands shoot straight to your breasts, cupping them gently to feel them bounce against the motion of your arm wrestling with his jeans to keep stroking his cock.

They’re so close to spilling over your tank top on their own. Joel can’t resist tugging the thin material until they spill over the top. The sight alone nearly has him coming in his pants. But then you moan so loudly when he squeezes them both and pinches at your nipples, and he really can’t stop.

“Fuck, fuck, wait,” he spits out, but it’s too late. His hips jerk erratically, thrusting into your slick fist, and he’s coming. It coats your hand and wrist and makes an absolute mess. You relax your grip when his whole body seems to shudder and gently remove your hand. He tries to choke his groan of frustration before it surfaces, but he immediately pauses his shame spiral when he sees you suck your come-coated fingers one by one.

“God, that’s so fucking hot,” you tell him. At the same time, he’s muttering curses at the sight of you. You’re feeling a little giddy that all it took was your hand and showing your tits to have Joel losing control and spilling his load for you. It has your mouth curling into an impish grin.

He’s got the sight of you half topless in his kitchen, licking your fingers, looking awfully proud of yourself, etching into his memory. Before the blood can return to his brain, he grabs you tightly by the ribs and walks you backward towards the counter. He lifts you onto it and wrenches open your shorts, yanking at them as you lift your hips so he can slide them off of you and drop them onto the kitchen floor.

Yes! Yes! Yes! The horny little goblins in your brain shriek and chant, incited by the rough and impulsive way Joel gropes at you. It’s barbaric, and that delights you.

Sitting on the counter, you give him such perfect access to put his mouth on your breasts that he forgets what he was going to say. He mouths at each of them wetly, his beard tickling you as he’s busy sucking marks into your delicate skin. He sucks and bites at your strained nipples until your loud whines turn into a sharp gasp, and he pulls back.

The heavy-lidded look on your face has him diving back in for more, and you groan and arch into his touch. You rake your fingers into the curls at the back of his neck and tug at him. He grunts and moans into your skin, and it drives you wild. You need to feel him closer.

You grab the worn cotton on his shoulders until he lets you slip the shirt over his head and drop it onto the counter next to you. It gives you the briefest moment to take in the sight of his built chest and shoulders and softer midsection with that trail of hair you had memorized. You need to taste the salt on his skin.

Spreading your legs wider, he slots his hips against yours at the edge of the counter, and you run your tongue along his neck. You slide one of your hands down the smooth golden skin of his shoulder, and the other nestles back in his messy curls as his mouth finds yours.

He tastes like cheap coffee and the peppermint nicotine gum parked above his teeth along the left side of his mouth. You know it’s wrong that you can’t get enough. But you're helpless when he pulls your bottom lip between his teeth, and you mindlessly roll your hips, seeking any relief.

He’s grumbling in your ear about how it seems like you need help now, but you couldn’t care less about the words coming out of his mouth. His deep voice alone could get you off. You let out an uninhibited whine at the thought.

“Jesus Christ,” he pulls back. His head hangs, staring at the floor. He shakes it in what you assume is disbelief. You don’t want to wait for him to think any further. You grab his hand, pulling it between your legs.

“Really, fucking, hot.” You echo your earlier declaration. Doing your best to sound assertive. You figure at least your soaked panties will prove your point.

“Fuck,” he stifles a groan. You’re so wet it coats his fingertips through the thin material. He nudges his fingers into you, over your panties, and you whimper for him. The fabric sticks to you and makes an obscene sound as he toys with you for only seconds. “Oh, you do need my help. Hm?”

You nod, spreading your legs wider for Joel to have access. He scoffs at you, displayed eagerly atop his kitchen counter. “Just desperate for me, aren’t ya?”

You snap your legs back shut with a glare.

“No way,” you press, jabbing a finger into his chest, “you don’t get to laugh at me like I’m a slut for you when you just came in your pants for me.”

His nostrils flare, and blotchy red patches creep up his neck again. You aren’t sure what kind of bear you’ve just, quite literally, poked.

“But you are, aren’t you?” He challenges. “You came all this way in this excuse for a shirt, just for me.”

He wedges his hand back between your closed thighs, and you relax just enough to let him work his way back to your core. Your breathing gives you away when it hitches and stutters as he traces his fingers along the hem of the fabric between your legs. You let your legs fall a little wider apart, and he sinks a finger beneath the hem and right inside of you to the knuckle.

A whiny noise rolls in the back of your throat.

“Shh,” he sinks a second finger inside of you, and your muscles spasm and contract, “that’s better, hmm?” He slowly pulls his fingers almost all the way out and then plunges them back in. He repeats this, and your core tenses as you writhe for him.

“You need more?”

“Yes.”

“Yeah, you do.” He adds a third finger, and the slight stretch makes you hum.

“You just need to be filled up, hm?” He teases you. Awfully confident now for a guy you just caught watching porn on his phone in a grimy back office in the middle of the afternoon.

But your noises and impatient movements spur him on. His sticky cock is filling out his jeans again. He nearly drools at the thought of the wet walls of your cunt, currently wrapped around his fingers, sliding over his cock instead. He knows you want it, too.

“Don’t you?” He asks like you could read his mind.

“Hm?” You hum absently. Empty headed. You’re still taken by the entire pulpy, messy scene.

Reveling in the vulnerability of being spread open on his cluttered counter as you’re both half-dressed and panting in the other’s hot breath. Any semblance of the lightness of your mood is quickly replaced with a blinding need. His fingers work into you, making obscene sounds, and then you add your own fingers. Circling your swollen clit just as he lets you in on his vision.

“You wanna bounce on my lap. Fill this pussy with my cock.”

“Yes,” you hiss as you hover at the edge.

“Yeah, that’s it,” he watches your fingers working deftly over your swollen clit. The encouragement tips you over. Your body jolts erratically as you contract around his fingers, and bright sparks of pleasure course through you.

“Yeah, you’re gonna ride me like fuckin’ champ,” he decides. You pull at his wrist when you start to feel overwhelmed, and he slides his wet fingers over your soft inner thigh. He’s ready to grab you and carry you to the couch when both of your heads snap to attention at the sound of a door slamming in the driveway.

“Shit,” he grumbles, looking for the clock on the stove before he remembers it’s definitely not set to the right time. You move nimbly, shimmying into your shorts, snapping your straps back over your shoulder, and brushing your hair out of your face.

“Hey, wait,” he calls for you, but you’re on the move.

“Let me know when I can pick up the baking dish,” you call over your shoulder. Luckily, Joel’s next guest seemed to know him better. They were off to search the shop first, so you didn’t collide with anyone before you got to your car. Joel stayed locked in the kitchen, catching his breath while you started to pull away. He didn’t see that you stole his dirty Creed shirt off the counter before you skipped out the door.

When you grab it later to wear to bed, a naughty little smile tugs at the corners of your lips. When you pull the worn fabric to your nose to inhale deeply, you wonder if it’s one of those weird pheromone matches or something because you’re sure the sweaty man musk should be wrinkling your nose.

Instead, it makes you think of his big arms and chest filling out the shirt. And how his shoulder and back muscles ripple under his sun-bronzed skin. What they’d look like coated in a sheen of salty sweat as he railed you, bent over his workbench, under the watchful eye of the calendar model and her flirty smize.

The image has you interrupting your own scenarios-before-bed time. Maybe Joel needs a model from this decade. You giggle, bunching up the t-shirt to snap a tasteful shot of some underboob cleavage, with the faded Creed logo on full display.

You send it off with no context, figuring it’s self-explanatory. It’s less than a minute before your phone buzzes, and you feel the intoxicating rush rip through your body before you pick it up to see just the heading on your lockscreen:

Joel

Attachment 1 image

part 2 here | part 3 here

divider by @cyberangel-graphics

Please let me know if you enjoyed or hated this or a secret third thing (???) heheh

#joel miller smut #joel miller x reader #hotdilfsummerchallenge #joel miller #joel miller x you #joel miller fanfiction #fanfic #joel miller au #joel miller fanfic #joel miller fic #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x f!reader #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal fandom #pedro pascal #pedro pascal fanfiction

2K notes · View notes

bestjeanistmonster · 6 months ago

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Dc au- thinking abt them reuniting after that second divorce

Sonic just happens to spot Shadow at a beach house while doing some exploring and decides to say hi and Shadow almost thinks he’s hallucinating again

1K notes · View notes

bixthenix · 21 days ago

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Pregnant Charles Week Day 6: Pre/Post canon

no beach divorce au (sort of), Erik settles down with Charles instead of Magda

#x men #cherik #PregnantCharlesWeek2025 #mpreg

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abluebirdsseaview · 5 months ago

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All New

Hiiii :))))!!!! I'm trying something new and wanted to create something socia media au's, enjoyyyyyy

Part 2

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Synopsis: actress y/n x Drew Starkey (but that happens later)

Y/n goes through a very public breakup and Drew has never been more obsessed.

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Enews

Liked by 138,997 users

Enews Y/n Y/l/n and Tom Blyth allegedly call it quits after an argument at a bar. Witnesses claim Y/n left the sports bar in tears and friends had to go calm her down.

10k comments

User1 I don't want to believe this

User2 feels like my parents divorce, BUT ITS WORSEEEEEE

User3 now he can finally move onto someone who isn't a gold digger 🙄

> user1 don't pmo... she was famous before they even dated

YourInstagram

Liked by 1,839,006 users

Yourinstagram and friends go to the carribean

10k comments

Yourfriend who needs boys when you can go to a beach

Madelinecline loving the brunette

Gracieabrams SHES FREEEEEEEE

User1 omg she dyed her hair back

User2 missing the blonde 😔

Sabrinacarpenter body is soooo tea in the second pic

Text messages

Mads

Y/nnnnn answerrrrrrrr

Girllll hurryyyy upp

Y/N ANSWER RIGHT NOWWW 👹

You

WHATTTTT

Mads

You will never guess who swiped up on my story repost of you

You

Girl I just got out of a relationship like a month ago 💀

Idk if I can reenter the dating scene

Mads

Okay but would that change if I told u it was Drew and he was asking about you

You

WHAT THE FUCKKKKK

DREW AS IN DREW STARKEYYYYYY

Ik you work with him and shit but he's such a baddie like omlllll

Mads

OK. Sounds like someone is ready to get back to dating if it means it's drew

You

Okay I'm not saying I'm ready to date necessarily

But he is insanely beautiful

Mads

So does that mean I can tell him it isn't weird to follow you on instagram

You

Tell him to go for it

Notifications

Drewstarkey just followed you

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Part 2

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thisapplepielife · 1 month ago

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Written for @stobinmonth and @corrodedcoffinfest.

It's Tradition

It's tradition. The annual week-long Buckley family trip to the beach. A highlight of the year, until her parents made it clear they didn't want to go anymore.

All good things must come to an end.

They just couldn't understand Robin didn't want to go somewhere new. That Robin didn't want it to end. That she needed to go to the same house, on the same beach, where she spent a week each year of her childhood.

That she wanted to go where she last saw Steve. At least one more time.

Even though Steve hasn't been there the last six years her family visited, and she heard the Harrington house sold when his parents divorced. That's the gossip around this small coastal town, anyway.

Either way, the Harringtons are long gone, taking Steve with them.

But he was the best friend she's ever had, and turning up for a week every spring and getting to see him was a staple of her childhood.

So, with her summer job savings she rented the same house her family always did, and sits on the screened-in porch.

Harrington's old house definitely doesn't have Steve in it, instead a family with a bunch of little kids that are loving their time on the water. On the other side, there's a rowdy group, loud at all hours, but closer to her age. She watches them, trying to not be sad that this last attempt was a bust.

One of the guys is currently swinging his girlfriend around in circles as she screams, delighted. Two others are making s'mores. And the long-haired one is running around in circles like a maniac. Harassing his friends on a loop. At least they're having fun. She's seen them drink, smoke weed, and poke at a bonfire.

This was stupid. It's been six years, of course he was never coming back. He probably doesn't even remember her. She was just some girl that turned up once a year for a week at a time.

She hears another car pull up behind the house next door, and their place has been grand central station. This time it's another dark-haired guy that the long-haired one is immediately pawing at, much to the complaints of the others.

Then, the newcomer turns and looks towards her house.

Steve.

At least, she thinks that's Steve. He just grew up. Has a better haircut.

Robin feels frozen to the porch swing, unsure if he can see her or not. If he'll even remember her if he can.

"Robin?!" he yells, then comes darting across the sand. She stands, crosses the porch and throws open the door.

She barely makes it out onto the deck before she's wrapped up in a big hug, "Robin Buckley! I didn't think, I mean, I knew it was a long shot when I rented this other house, but it's you! You're you!"

She's her. And he's him. She starts to cry. She really never thought she'd see him again.

"Robin's here!" Steve yells and the rest of them cheer, like they were totally in on this as a possibility.

He didn't forget.

He wanted to see her too.

Later, after all the introductions have been made, Robin joins them around the fire they've built. Eddie, Steve's boyfriend, and boy was she delighted to find that out, is in a band and have finally made enough for a real vacation.

Steve planned for it to be here, over spring break, hoping to see her.

Jeff is picking out a soft tune on his guitar, and they are all razzing him, saying it's not metal enough, but before long, two more guitars are fetched from the house and Gareth's beating on an upside down bucket. Diana in the sand, resting her head against his thigh, seemingly unconcerned with the flailing of his arms.

Trusting he won't hit her.

The music's a little aggressive, but they blend well.

Steve leans into Robin's side, explaining, "They're a heavy metal band."

"They're good at this," she says. She can't believe this is really Steve. It feels like they haven't missed a day.

"And they know it, despite the bitching. Don't let them fool you, they aren't that cool. They did a bit of wedding band gigging early on to make ends meet."

She giggles, delighted by the image of that.

"I like Eddie," she says.

"I was kinda worried you'd, like, disapprove."

"Hello? I like girls, dingus. I figured that was always obvious."

"Not that obvious," he says, and she laughs. He was never the most observant kid on earth.

"Where'd you wind up, you just disappeared?" she asks.

"Boarding school," he answers, and she reaches over and squeezes his hand.

"I'm sorry," she says, and she is.

"Well, it made me into a boy kisser," he teases, and she leans on his shoulder, and giggles.

"It did not."

"It didn't, but it may have put jumper cables on my bisexual awakening."

She smiles, "Are you happy now?"

And Steve looks over at Eddie, riffing back and forth with his band, "Very."

Robin smiles, "He's kinda feral."

"Well, that's his best quality," Steve teases, adding, "They're playing in a bar down the beach tomorrow night. I hope you'll come."

She nods. She'll go anywhere he wants her to this week, as long as she gets to see Steve again.

The next night, Steve's walking around the small venue, and she realizes he's somehow in charge of this dog and pony show. Robin sits at a table with Diana, and waits for the band to get started.

Robin can see Eddie and Gareth jumping up and down, just off-stage, bumping chests.

Diana rolls her eyes, but she's clearly fond, "It's tradition. I don't ask questions."

Robin likes traditions. Finds comfort in them.

And as Corroded Coffin is announced, Steve settles in the wings where she can see him. He grew up. They both did, and now she hopes they can make new traditions with friends, together.

If you want to write your own, or see more entries, check out @corrodedcoffinfest to read takes on Spring Break prompts, or to offer up your own!

For more Stobin, pop on over to @stobinmonth to follow along with the fun!

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wishchip106 · 3 months ago

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“There are thousands of men on those ships. Good, honest, innocent men! They’re just following orders.”

imagine the betrayal Erik must’ve felt hearing those words come out of Charles’ mouth

coming to the conclusion that maybe Charles doesn’t understand him, maybe he is really just like the people who turn a blind eye to those who are suffering

that probably gave him the push to send those missiles out towards the ships. no more men following orders to ruin the world

and maybe that’s why Erik so desperately tried to convince Charles to join him. Maybe there’s a chance that Charles will understand and will rightfully join him by his side

but he doesn’t. Charles doesn’t love him. So Erik leaves

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velvet4510 · 4 months ago

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Cherik fic recs

Here are my absolute favorite Cherik fanfics that I highly recommend to everyone! Most are set within canon, but there are a few brilliant AUs sprinkled throughout. Many of them also have Dadneto, but not all.

All of these are either finished or are guaranteed to eventually be finished. I won’t put myself or anyone else through the pain of getting invested in an abandoned fic.

Listed in alphabetical order by title. (I will update this as I find more.)

again and again and again and again by @darealsaltysam . Charles pines for Erik and Hank pines for Raven. Set post-First Class / pre-Days of Future Past. (Also features Hank/Raven.)

All Our Stolen Summertimes by @sinspirefly (60k words, ongoing). Multi-chapter. Charles and his X-Men encounter Erik and his Brotherhood over the course of several summers. Set post-First Class. Not entirely Days of Future Past-compliant. (Also features prominent Hank/Raven.)

As Strong as Death by Anath Tsurugi. Old Erik and young Erik talk about Charles. Set during Days of Future Past.

As They Kiss, Consume by sherwoodfox (35k words). Explicit. Multi-chapter. Erik’s POV of his time with Charles during First Class.

be my baby by floatingflowers (ongoing). Multi-chapter. Falling in love and getting together. Set during the First Class Gay Mutant Road Trip.

Beautiful Crime by BLehnsherr & Mstrikout (63k words). Explicit. Multi-chapter no-powers modern AU in which Erik is married to Magda and they are parents to Nina, Charles is married to Moira and they are parents of two, and Charles & Erik are swept up in a passionate affair. (Contains adultery. Also features Erik/Magda and Charles/Moira.)

Beautiful Dreamer by WaxRhapsodic (40k words). Multi-chapter, Apocalypse-divergent: Nina survives and goes with Erik to the mansion. (Also features prominent Dadneto & Magnet Family, mama Raven & son Kurt, brief Erik/Magda, brief Charles/Moira, minor Hank/Raven, background Ororo/Peter, alternate origin story for David.)

The blood of his heart by TomStr1d3r. Passion and feelings. Set during the First Class Gay Mutant Road Trip.

Blood Runs Thicker by @swordsandsadness. Multi-chapter (63k words). Charles experiences a medical emergency, and Erik and the X-Men rally to take care of him. Set post-Apocalypse. Not Dark Phoenix-compliant. (Also features Dadneto and Jean/Scott.)

Bound (52k words) and its direct sequel Hitched (56k words) by FuryRed. Explicit. Multi-chapter still-have-powers AU where Charles and Erik are exes who reunite at Raven and Azazel’s wedding. (Also features Azazel/Raven and brief Charles/Logan.)

But for you I’d leave it all by Pangea. Explicit. Multi-chapter no-powers AU where Charles is a member of nobility about to enter an arranged marriage and Erik is the jeweler hired to create the wedding rings for his childhood friend who he’s still in love with.

Finding Home by weethreequarter. Multi-chapter. Charles fakes his death and runs off to reunite with Erik in Poland, where they start a quiet life together and adopt Nina. Set post-Days of Future Past. Not Apocalypse-compliant. (Also features Dadneto.)

For all the points of the compass, there’s only one direction by Sotano. Erik’s POV of the dark Sentinel future in the Rogue Cut of Days of Future Past. (Old Cherik)

francis forever by cowboy_like_me12. More Charles beach divorce angst. Set post-First Class / pre-Days of Future Past.

Glitter Bombs and Chess Matches by xXQueenofDragonsXx. Charles, Erik, Peter, and Nina live together in the mansion as a family. Not Apocalypse-compliant. (Dadneto & Magnet Family centric.)

Have Some Faith by @roseghoul26 . Multi-chapter. Charles breaks through Erik’s walls. Set during the First Class Gay Mutant Road Trip.

i look around (and it’s just me) by @thepointofme. Erik’s introspection during First Class.

in between being young and being right (you were my versailles at night) by teenagewaste. Days of Future Past-divergent: old Erik has a talk with his younger self and young Charles. (Old Cherik AND Young Cherik.)

Isn’t It Extraordinary? by frau_kali. Explicit. Charles gets Erik to let go of his tight control of his powers in the bedroom. Set during the First Class Gay Mutant Road Trip.

The King of Second Chances by @luninosity. Charles and Erik rescue a lost cat at a motel. Set during the First Class Gay Mutant Road Trip.

Last Days of Spring by Penguina. Multi-chapter no-powers AU in which Charles and Erik fall in love after a one-night stand, but Erik is keeping multiple secrets that will change everything. (Contains adultery. Also features background Erik/Magda.)

A Legacy Unbound by ScaleBlaze (105k words total, ongoing). Currently a 2-part series that begins during Days of Future Past and then diverges from Apocalypse and its aftermath, focusing on the relationships between Erik, Charles, Peter, Wanda, and Lorna. (Dadneto- & Magnet Family-centric. Also features mama Raven & son Kurt, Jean/Scott, and Alex/Lorna.) Many surprise twists in this one.

Looking Forwards (Backwards) by @allourheroes. Set post-Days of Future Past in the new future, where Logan learns of Charles and Erik’s revised history. (Also features Jean as Cherik’s “daughter.”)

Love by @apolesen . More Charles beach divorce angst as Hank and Alex realize the truth about him and Erik. Set post-First Class.

lovers do the looking while strangers look away by roadtovanaheim. Raven’s POV of Cherik during First Class. (Briefly mentioned Erik/Raven.)

Magnetism and Mendings by @mayamidge . Multi-chapter (25k words). Charles gets custody of young Lorna, Peter, and Wanda when Erik is imprisoned at the Pentagon. Set post-First Class. Not Days of Future Past-compliant. (Dadneto & Magnet Family-centric with past Erik/Magda.)

Mending Metals by @sincosma (ongoing). Multi-chapter. Erik’s POV of his slow-burn with Charles in Genosha. Set in the aftermath of a slightly divergent version of Dark Phoenix.

A Million Miles Ahead of Us by CharryWotter. Multi-chapter. Charles, Erik, Hank, Raven, Peter, and Kurt go on a road trip. Set post-Apocalypse. Not Dark Phoenix-compliant. (Dadneto-centric. Also features prominent mama Raven & son Kurt.)

Monster by Garonne. Charles regains contact with Erik, who has conquered Genosha. Set post-Days of Future Past. Not Apocalypse-compliant.

(Nearly) Lost and Finally Found by @swordsandsadness (ongoing). Multi-chapter (31k words). Erik saves Charles from a suicide attempt in Paris and they do their best to move forward together. Set post-Dark Phoenix. (Contains a failed suicide attempt.)

A New Place to Be From by @veevil and @nyang-cheng (ongoing). Multi-chapter no-powers Siren AU in which Erik is a siren in a contaminated lake, which is being investigated by Charles, a biologist. (Also features minor Hank/Raven).

Plaid shirt days (A Cherik Gilmore Girls AU) by @star-lights-up (ongoing). Multi-chapter no-powers Gilmore Girls AU where Charles is basically Lorelai, Jean is basically Rory, Erik is basically Luke, and Ororo is basically Lane. (Also features Jean/Scott, Hank/Raven, and Ororo/Warren.)

The road to redemption by onomatopoetikon. Multi-chapter. Charles’ POV of Days of Future Past.

The road to salvation by onomatopoetikon. Multi-chapter. Erik’s POV of First Class.

Rumination by grim_lupine. Erik’s POV of his feelings for Charles during First Class.

sailor song by @penmarks (ongoing). Multi-chapter (34k words). Explicit. Charles and Erik explore their immediate chemistry. Set during First Class.

Same As It Ever Was (The Road to Recovery Remix) by listerinezero. Erik rescues young Kurt and brings him to the mansion. Set post-Days of Future Past. Not Apocalypse-compliant.

savor every second together by pyroallerdyce (103k words total). Explicit. 5-part series in which Erik intermittently sneaks back into the mansion for trysts with Charles and, in the process, learns the truth about Peter & Wanda. Set post-Days of Future Past. Not Apocalypse-compliant. (Also features prominent Dadneto & Magnet Family, mama Raven & son Kurt, past Erik/Magda, and Cherik being parental figures to young Jean & Ororo.)

Say, It’s Only a Paper Moon by pleistocene88. Charles and Erik steal a moment the night before Cuba. Set during First Class.

Show Me Yours and I’ll Show You Mine by frau_kali. Charles and Erik share their powers with each other in bed. Set during the First Class Gay Mutant Road Trip.

sing me to sleep by pocky_slash. Stolen moments together during the dark future and revised timeline of Days of Future Past. (Old Cherik)

Steal Some Time and Start Again by @nathanbellamy. Multi-chapter, Days of Future Past-divergent: Peter takes some of Hank’s serum during the Pentagon breakout, causing him to lose his mutation, be imprisoned, and end up bonding with Erik, while Charles, Hank, and Logan set out to rescue them. (Dadneto-centric.)

tie up your thoughts and lay them down on me by joshriku. Erik returns to Charles and helps him with his chronic pain. Set post-Days of Future Past. Not Apocalypse-compliant.

to sweetly hold by joshriku. Set at different moments across prequel canon as Cherik steal moments together.

Trust by @dick-helmet-magneto. Apocalypse-divergent: Nina survives but is paralyzed by the arrow and Erik seeks help from Charles. (Dadneto-centric with past Erik/Magda.)

Turtlenecks and Promises by @charlesxavierthetelepath . More Charles beach divorce angst. Set post-First Class / pre-Days of Future Past.

We Met At The Park by starrose17 (139k words). Explicit. Multi-chapter no-powers AU in which Charles is a rent boy, Erik is a banker, and they fall in love, but Charles’ dark past returns to haunt them both. (Link is to LiveJournal, as the fic is no longer on Ao3.) *LONGEST FIC ON THIS LIST.*

A Wedding Planner Walks Into a Bar by 1sttimefeeling. Explicit. Multi-chapter no-powers modern AU in which Raven hires Erik to be the bartender at her and Hank’s wedding, and Erik quickly falls for the wedding planner, Charles, whom he mistakenly assumes is the groom.

What died didn’t stay dead, you’re alive in my head. by @star-lights-up (40k words, ongoing). Multi-chapter First Class / Doctor Strange / Loki / Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. / Deadpool & Wolverine crossover AU in which Charles and Shaw’s consciousnesses merge after the coin scene and the team seek out the TVA for multiversal help to save Charles. (Also features Hank/Raven.)

When You Leave (I’m Lonely) by HarperRose. Erik tries to hide from Charles’ students while sneaking back into the mansion for trysts. Set post-Days of Future Past. Not Apocalypse-compliant.

Wrap You In Dreams Of Me by @zinthelost. Multi-chapter. A grieving Erik dreams of Charles. Set post-The Last Stand. (Old Cherik)

you can hear it in the silence (on the way home, with the lights out) by @ch3rry (ongoing). Multi-chapter no-powers The Sound of Music AU where Charles is basically Maria, Erik is basically the Captain, and Hank, Alex, Angel, Sean, Peter, Wanda & Lorna are the 7 children. (Also features minor Hank/Raven, Erik/Emma, and Alex/Armando.)

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simp-ly-writes · 6 months ago

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Love is Blind

─────── · · A Smosh FanFic

Pairing: Spencer Agnew x gn!Reader

─ · · SUMMARY: Smosh Games is making another title in the smash hit board game series, love is blind, but is it all fun and games- or will you actually end up winning something worth a lot more?

─ · · TAGS: gender-neutral pronouns, super tooth-rotting fluff, part social media au, suggestive themes, attempt at humour, a bit chaotic but the vibes are there.

─ · · MASTERLIST | TAGLIST REQUEST | WORDCOUNT: 1,570

─ · · A/N: let us all thank the anon that sent this request it! 😊

─────── · ·

"Hello everyone and welcome to the Smosh Games channel today we will be finding out is definitively, is love truly blind? And as you can all see, I am joined here with (name), Amanda, Arasha, Olivia, Spencer, Chance, and Trevor for the first time in this shows history!" Angela introduces the viewer as you all way and cheer for Trevor who hides behind his wine glass with a playful smile.

"How are we all feeling today?" Angela asks the table and Amanda leads first. "Heyyyy, My names Amanda I'm 25 and my friends told me to come on this show. I ummmm, am from New York, yaaa! And I love to party, I work as a marketing assistant!"

"Hi, I'm Olivia, 44, I was told we win money on this show-?" Amanda leans over whispering a loud no, and you laugh as her shoulder drop. "Well, I was going to be on this show to win but now I'm just here for the drama and if I find love, great, whatever- I work as a scientist, can make more money."

"Hello, Name's Trevor and I work in digital media, I-uh am 20-something and love to cook!"

"Its Arasha and I am 20, this is being filmed and Europe so don't you dare take this glass away from me! I work in Digital media as well and if my first date is a walk on the beach, just know that there won't be a second date, m-kay?"

"Sup, I'm straight-Chance and you all have no-chance if I'm the other one in a love triangle. I am 22 and work as an actor, catch me in films you never knew about!"

"I'm Angela, 50, sales, have been divorced thrice and am looking for my fourth special-someone."

"Ummm, hi? I'm (name) i'm (age), and work also in Digital Media. I-uh love table-top games and yeah"

"Hi, I'm Spencer, 33, and also love table-top gaming..." You and Spencer both look at one another with a smile before looking towards Angela as she quickly goes over the rules and the game commences.

─────── · ·

Early on, you were not matching with anyone and that was making you nervous. Sure it was a silly game in all but you were competitive nonetheless and seeing as Olivia, Amanda, and Chance all had multiple connections while you had one and nearly a half, you knew that your odds didn't look great.

"Okay!" it was your turn to read out a question card. "For a date I would: A. Rather stay inside, B. Go out to Dinner. C. Go for a Walk-"

"Fuck the walk," Olivia slammed her card down before you could even show your decision, the cast erupted with laughter as you didn't bat an eyelash and turned over your card. "I said A. Stay Inside. I was thinking we could have a movie night at home or just order in. More intimate that way," you explain. Suddenly feeling the reality of the game come to life as you nervously waited on your peers answers.

"the results are in and only one A... hm" you commented, checking it off on your card with a small from. This unknown person was really running away with your scorecard, only one more point and you could propose- potentially winning the game. It was time to lock it in.

Round after round, question after question, you and this person were connecting effortlessly, it even had you questioning if you had both broken the game by how in-sync your answers were. So much so that the other members of cast started wiggling their eyebrows in your direction as your cheeks warmed.

"Okay guys! Its only just a game but a game I do intend to win!"

─────── · ·

So focused on creating a strategy to match your unknown match, you were none the wiser to Angela calling out your name multiple times.

"C'mon you are sounding like my ex-wives, never listening to me. Please stand up, I have something to say, no one else is playing the purple character" Angela yelled across the table, pointing in your face as you held your hands up and walked around to stand in front of the table.

"(name), even though we both have not known one another for long, I have fallen so in love with you. More in love than my other two, or was it three wives? and however many children I father... just know that I want to have you be mine. Please marry me?" Angelas voice cracks near the end, she conceals her laughter by biting her shoulder as you bring up your hands to your mouth to do the same.

Your eyes are clouding in tears before you burst out in laughter and say no, watching as she collapses to her side and bellows out dramatic cries before standing back up and asking Olivia to come over, they both end up getting engaged.

"I would actually like to call someone forward. If the blue character could greet me at the front, please." And to your shock (and internal horror yet delight), Spencer steps forwards, your eyes wide as saucers as he smiles at you. Forgetting what to do Spencer looks down, reminding you to propose much to everyones enjoyment and your embarrassment as Tommy shouts out from behind the camera, "Could love truly be blind???"

"Shut-up, please! Spencer, I-uh. Well we have connected a lot over this game, we see eye-to-eye and have formed a meaningful connection over these hours that have felt like years. I never knew someone could match my freak, so to speak and would you do me the honour of marrying me?" you take the ring out of your back pocket, presenting it to Spencer who appears to have the blush of his own.

You both stand their still in that moment, forgetting the cast, crew, and cameras, "yes, I do- I mean yes I will marry you." Standing up to place the ring on his finger, you both hug and hold each other for a moment too long for what should be a cut scene before taking to your seats.

In all honesty, you both forget that you are still holding each others hands after the cut-scene and it carries through to the end of the game.

─────── · ·

The drama continues yet for you and Spencer, it was smooth sailing as you both did not go out looking for a 'better connection' and end up making it to your wedding day. you keep having to remind yourself that this is a mere fantasy, a game but it feels too real as Spencer takes your hands in his own, smiling and whispering jokes for only you to hear as Tommy reads out your vows.

"And do you, Spencer, take (name) to be your lawfully wedded spouse? In sickness and in health? For richer or poorer? For both as long as you shall live always?"

"yes, I do," Spencer says, placing the ring on your finger, bringing it up to his face for a kiss as your face heats up more than it has all game. "And (name) do you take Spencer to be your lawfully wedded spouse? In sickness and in health? For richer or poorer? For both as long as you shall live always?"

"I do." And the cast and crew all stand and cheer as in that moment you both debate on kissing one another. "Are you playing?-"

"Never," Spencer eases your worries, "could I kiss you?" he asks in a soft tone, wanting to cherish the moment you both know to be real.

"Yes, please." And then his lips are on your own, the world silenced yet again, his had cupping your cheek as you lean into his touch.

─────── · ·

When the cameras cut, your lips still tingling and your face set with an unmoving smile that Spencer mirrors. You two are the only ones left on the set as Spencer leans against the table, "I know this seems a bit weird considering that we're married-" you laugh before asking him to continue with hopeful eyes as he reaches out to hold your hand, you accept, fingers intertwining.

"Would you want to go out sometime?"

"Yes, I would really like that."

─────── · ·

🔔 Spennser just posted, check it out!

─────── · ·

Liked by trevorevarts, ianhecox, co_mill and others

spennser first date and just married, quite the day! w/@.yourusername

View all 1,245 comments

yourusername you forgot engaged too*

↳ spennser sorry my bad 😞

username24 if you two didn't end up going out after THAT episode, I would believe that love is dead, not blind... or well maybe both idk

Ianhecox this post is doing numbers, please make more videos together, we need these profit margins 🙏

co_mill you two are so cute, can't wait for when you actually get married! 🥹

↳ spennser who says that that wedding was fake? 🤨 ↳ co_mill no, you are correct. I have no idea what I was saying earlier, beautiful ceremony, now can I have your spouse? ↳ spennser no ❤️

username88 no @.username01 comments?? What in the world is happening here??

trevorevarts cograts, cograts, congrats, and congrats (I think I got them all?)

anthonypadilla I leave smosh again for one day to go to the doctors and now another pair of you are getting married, wtf?

─────── · ·

─ · · SPENCER AGNEW TAGLIST: @lisiliely @missflufffanfics @little-stitious-studios @thejourneyneverendsx @sibsteria @lizzylynch1 @babble2 @delaneyburghardt @thevintagefangirl @uniquely-haunting @maricarorp @sarahskywalker-amidala

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rageserenity · 1 year ago

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It's 2024. Are you still thinking about movieverse!Cherik? Because I am.

For the past several months, there's only been a very slow trickle of posts/fics in the xmcu cherik tag. Let's try to breathe some life back into this incredible pairing!

With one clear winner of my poll, here's thirty prompts for the thirty days of April. (This is a super chill, laid-back event---do these in any order, interpret them as loosely as you like! Create in any medium! Fic, art, gifs, meta, incoherent screaming about the otp…all winners in my book.)

The only rule here is to cherik too close to the sun. Alright. Here are the prompts.

Mutual Pining

Doesn't really even need elaboration! Write that horrifically slow slow-burn. Gif every time McAvoy made insane fuck me eyes on screen. Make a playlist of songs about impossible love.

2. Alternate Meetings

There are endless quotes about how these two complete each other in a way no one they'd met before or after ever did. How else could they have met?

3. Erik Has A Telepathy Kink

This is basically canon. Let my boy get freaky!

4. Canon Fix-It

All the times Fox fucked it up. There are endless options.

5. Hurt/Comfort

Put them in that Situation. Put them in that Blender. Break them apart and put them back together ❤️‍🩹

6. Canon Compliant

Draw that missing scene! Gif your favourite cherik moment!

7. Beach Divorce

Make it worse. Make it better. Show it to us exactly how it was. Break it down in a 3,000 word meta. Go wild!

8. Domestics

Sometimes you just want to see them doing normal couple things. Erik put the gun down.

9. Found Family

The real heart of x-men!

10. Time Travel

There are SO many possibilities here. Stick them in a time loop. Give them a chance to change their past.

11. AU

Love a good AU!

12. There Is Only One Bed

Had to get this one in here. What better way to amp up the tension?

13. Genosha

By some miracle, cherik actually did end up together at the end of 2019s trash bag disaster Dark Phoenix. We aren’t making a big enough deal about this.

14. Declaration(s) of Love

Who says it first? How do they say it and when? Have they said it…without saying it?

15. Jealousy

Need I say more.

16. Reunion

These two have absolutely no chill.

17. Soulmates

Classic prompt, had to get this in here too.

18. The DOFP Aircraft

The TENSION here. Break it down for me. How does Charles feel about his injury? How does Erik feel about his injury?

19. Gay Mutant Road Trip

You already know.

20. Body Swap

SO fun when people have superpowers.

21. First Kiss

When? How? Who initiated it?

22. The Mansion

Mansion!content is a genre of its own.

23. Conflicting Ideology

Give me your theses. Who’s right? Can they ever reconcile completely? Write a fic where it drives them apart.

24. Sebastian Shaw

A trope unto himself.

25. Team As Matchmaker

They had to have known something was going on, didn’t they?

26. Cooking

Charles deserves a good meal. Also, imagine Erik using his powers in the kitchen. The sheer domesticity…

27. Hurt No Comfort

Plenty of scope with these two 🥲

28. Growing Old Together

Giving Sirs Ian Mckellan and Patrick Stewart their props as well!

29. Making Up

*pushes chess board across the table* sorry babe

30. Charles Xavier Did More For Mutants Than You'll Ever Know

Rising to each other’s defense. Only I can insult this man.

I will be tracking #revivecherik to reblog stuff! Here’s a fic collection for the same. Let’s get this ball rolling! Please feel free to send me an ask if you’ve got anything to say! And most importantly, let’s all have fun 😁

*I know a few of you preferred something like a gift exchange because of the commitment factor—I’m super down to organise a tiny one for the handful of us! If this promptathon doesn’t flop horribly, we can hopefully do a whole bunch of stuff :)

If you read this post all the way through, please reblog for reach! Thank you! Hoping you participate come April.

Shoutout to @inmymagnetoera for reaching out and helping with this!

#revivecherik #cherik #charles xavier #erik lehnsherr #xmfc #james mcavoy #michael fassbender #x men days of future past #x men #charles x erik #magneto #professor x

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johnwickb1tsch · 26 days ago

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the reason I asked...

(in reference to this poll X) is because I was having a little half-asleep brain rot about bittersweet AUs, like, what if...

reader managed to actually escape John, maybe after Dante attacked the house the first time? you waited for the paramedics to arrive to stabilize him, and then in all the chaos of the 911 response you slip out and steal the RangeRover. ( @sweetwolfcupcake has brilliantly pointed out that Reader would want to escape if for example, John betrayed her trust and followed thru on that spanking 😱😱 Like this version of John is more clinically unhinged)

you drive alllll the way across the country, as far as you can get from New York. surely you can disappear in a huge city like L.A.?

when you try to sell the Rover to a chop shop for cash it backfires on you. you find yourself a captive again. thinking you're a rich kid runaway, they plan to ransom you, but you won't tell them who you are.

lucky you, these bad dudes have been on Tom Ludlow's radar. he raids the shop and kills them alllllllllll. off the books of course. then he's left with the problem of what the hell to do with you?

you wake up at his house, in his bed. at first you're scared of course, but he talks you down, shows you his badge, and explains the tricky situation you're in. he framed the massacre as gang on gang violence. are you going to rat him out?

of course you're not, you're not stupid. you raise him one better when you tell him the situation you just escaped. no, beFORE the gangsters. yes, you really were being held captive [in luxury] by a retired Underworld hitman. no, you don't know if he survived, but if he did you know he'll be looking for you eventually.

Tom does you a solid and offers to get you a new identity. a fresh start. you're floored by his generosity. why would he do that for you? he says he's just trying to do some good in this world that's mostly bad. it's a losing war, but sometimes he wins a small battle, and it keeps him in the fight.

you're so grateful that while you wait for his guy to come through with your new papers, you clean up his messy bachelor pad of a house. you find old photos and lots of empty liquor bottles, and you reason he's either divorced, or a widower.

when he comes home to a clean house and the smell of real food cooking in the kitchen you kind of knock this unflappable man off his feet. he is touched by the gesture, and stunned by how much he likes it, and how much he missed it. maybe towards the end, his wife gave up on trying to have dinner on the table for him because he was never home when he said he would be.

you don't know it, but you've ignited a little fire in Tom, awakening something he thought was long dead. he doesn't act on it. he feels like a piece of shit for even thinking about it. you’re a good kid, and you've been through so much. but a part of him understands why a man who is damned to the darkness would covet a piece of your warmth and your light for himself.

he tells you that you can stay as long as you want. but you feel bad, invading his space. you need a job. a place of your own. to get out of his hair. so he helps you with that too. you find a job at a cute little coffee house in Santa Monica. hey, its what you know. you sublet a room from someone Tom seems to trust. when you move out you kiss Tom on the cheek in thank you. you have no idea how much it kills him to let you go.

you feel like you have a new lease on life. you like your job. you like the warm weather in L.A., and being so close to the beach. Tom still comes in to check on you now and then. This is where you meet a handsome young S.W.A.T. officer named Jack Traven. He comes in sometimes for a flat white and a bran muffin. his smile could stop a woman’s heart at twenty paces. maybe you do flirt with him a little, but you keep it light. then…he starts coming in every morning.

Tom sees the two of you bantering and batting eyes one morning. you cannot know the way it feels like getting shanked between the ribs for him. of course he rolls his eyes with a smirk, putting up his usual front. “Don’t believe a word this guy says, sweetheart, he’s just a meathead from SWAT.” but deep down, Tom realizes he is jealous.

maybe you run into Jack at the bar down the street one night when you're feeling especially lonely. he’s celebrating a successful hostage release. no one died, not even the perp. he invites you to hang out with his friends and fellow officers. you lean on Jack’s [ridiculously muscled] arm, listening to the stories they tell with that devil-may-care bluster cops need to keep going to such a dangerous job day after day. it squeezes your heart, that he risks his life for people he doesn’t even know, because he truly cares. even if deep down you know its a bad idea, you end up going home with him that night.

Jack continues to come see you at the coffee house. he tries to ask you out on a proper date. you can tell he wants you to be his girlfriend, he wants to treat you right. maybe Tom calls him a meathead, but there is not a cell of fuckboy in this man, bless him. he told you about how he just wants the simple things in life. a good woman. healthy kids. a little postage stamp of grass to mow. for a crazy three seconds you allow yourself to think about it. what would it be like, to be the one he comes home to? gentle kisses in the morning. date night trips to dinner and the movies. a little house. a dog. a picket fence. you could take your babies to the beach, and maybe nothing bad would ever happen… you know it’s not possible for you, and the unfairness of it churns as sharply in your belly as if you swallowed a bag full of glass. he's so sweet, so good, but there is a curse on you, and you're afraid something bad might happen to Jack if he gets involved with you.

what would John Wick do, if he found you living happily with another man? he’s still out there, somewhere. Tom checked for death certificates in New York [and how stupid are you, that a part of you is glad he's not dead?]. your only hope is to keep flying under the radar, living like a ghost. it kills you inside to tell him, “I wish I could. But there are things you don't know about me.”

he's not as surprised by this as you thought he might be. “I'm a cop, y/n. I kind of have a sense for when people are in trouble. you can talk to me.” what he doesn’t say is he has a sense for when people are hiding things. this boy has an incurable case of the White Knight Syndrome, and you can tell he's not going to give up easily.

you really do try to keep him at arm’s length, but it’s humanly impossible to resist the impulse to flirt with that man. of course, Tom would come in on the day Jack saves you from falling backwards off a ladder–with a hand on your ass. they don’t even exchange words, but somehow the tension in the room between these two men is electric.

a week or so later you're returning home at night when you find Tom Ludlow leaning on the wall outside your apartment. you can tell just by the way he's standing that he's a little drunk. “out late with Meathead?” he grumbles, his disheveled hair in his dark eyes.

you stop a little ways from him. you can tell he's in a mood, but maybe underneath that, this man is a little fragile. you have a feeling you might be the only one who gets to see it. “What’s wrong, Tom?” he sighs, shuffles to you, rests his forehead against yours, and you let him. this man saved you when you had no one. this is the least you can do for him–and you have a soft spot for this cranky cop who bends the law to do the right thing.

but maybe you are a little surprised, when he draws back to look at you, those soulful puppy dog eyes fixing on your mouth a moment before he presses his lips to yours. you have to say you definitely don’t hate it, and you're breathless when he pulls away. “shit. y/n…i’m sorry.” “that’s ok.” you reach up to touch his cheek, and he leans into your hand like a needy puppy that doesn’t realize how big he is. you could taste the vodka on his tongue. you’d found the bottles before, of course, but in that short time you’d lived with him he didn’t really drink much. you wonder if he’s slipped backwards again. “where’s your car? I’m going to drive you home.” he grumbles something into the bend of your neck, but in the end he hands over his keys.

driving in L.A. is a lot easier in a muscle car with a lightbar on the roof. people just magically get out of your way. you bundle Tom back into his home with an arm around his waist. as soon as you get through the front door you see his house is in disarray again, since you haven't been here. some men really do revert back to savages, without a woman to keep them accountable. struggling under his weight, you somehow manage to stumble/drag him to his bed, laying him down in the sheets that obviously haven’t been washed since the last time you laundered them. “I missed you, so much,” he groans, half passed out, as you unlace his boots.

“Tom…” it truly breaks your heart, to see him living like this. the impulse to try to save him is as strong as it is misguided. but sometimes…people just need a little help, and that’s ok. He doesn’t ask you to, but you lay down in the bed beside him and wrap your arms around his solid trunk of a torso, moulding your body against his. you know there is something healing in just snuggling with another human being–and you’re lonely too. “Are you sleeping with Meathead?” he slurs, on the edge of sleep. “Why do you call him that?” you counter, trying to keep things light, and not answer direct questions about Jack. “You’re just as built as he is.” you squeeze his bicep appreciatively, winning a sound that suddenly reminds you of a lion in his den. he turns to you, a dark light in those brown eyes that makes your heart stop in your chest. “Yeah?” you have to try twice before you find your voice. “Yeah.” this time, maybe it’s you that cranes your neck for a kiss that curls your toes, and he can’t stop himself from rolling onto you with a moan, his solid weight pressing you down deliciously into the the bed. but then he makes himself stop again, resting his forehead against yours with a sigh. “You don’t owe me anything, babygirl.” “I do,” you counter, “but that’s not what this is about.” “What’s it about, then?” “Well. I kind of like you.” he snorts, that glitter in his eyes that drives you a little crazy inside. is it stupid, that you feel like he isn’t in as much danger as Jack? is he more lethal, or do you callously just feel deep down that he doesn’t have his whole life ahead of him, the way your pretty SWAT hunk does? you’re not really sure, but when Tom’s big hand dips into your jeans you’re not strong enough to say no.

you’re there at the coffee house, the day the bus blows up on the street outside. The news crews swarm, interviewing anyone they can for a sound byte. you try to stay off the cameras, but it’s too late. there are too many before you’re allowed to go home, and you end up on the national news.

hardly a week goes by, before you are at work again, some of the windows boarded up, still broken from the blast. you’ve got your back turned, putting the lid on a café mocha, double checking that it's tight when you sense someone is at the counter. “I’ll be right there,” you call over your shoulder.

a quiet voice from your past sends a chill to the bottom of your soul. “I think I’m in the mood for something sweet.” you jump, spilling the scalding hot mocha all over the counter. slowly you turn to find him, the way you’ve always feared you would, handsome as the devil himself in an all black suit. he doesn’t seem angry, but there is a glint of sharp steel in his black eyes that warns you not to try anything cute. “John,” you whisper, your voice utterly failing you in the face of your doom. With panic in your eyes you look around at all the people in the shop. All the witnesses. “Please…don’t.” “Come quietly, and I won’t.” he sounds so reasonable. you know it’s just a facade.

you’re so filled with fear that you feel like you’re in a daze, like you’re not really in control of your own body, as you nod, wipe your hands, and make your way around the counter to him. he doesn’t grab you. he doesn’t even have to touch you. he just nods at the door, and you follow him out into the bright California sunlight. you know immediately which car is his, the midnight-black ‘69 Mustang parked in the alley on the side of the building.

you’re ten paces from the muscle car when you hear another voice you know all too well behind you. “Freeze, motherfucker! Hands where I can see them!”

No no no no please don’t not for me please God not for me...

the two of you turn slowly and your heart falls to see not only Tom Ludlow with his service pistol drawn, but Jack Traven as well...

#and then i guess everyone dies because none of you have faith in Jack or Tom 🤣🤣🤣#or maybe Jack shoots the hostage?? 😂#tom ludlow x reader #jack traven x reader #john wick x reader #tom ludlow #john wick #jack traven #bittersweet au #keanu reeves x reader #keanu reeves #yandere john wick

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hurtspideyparker · 6 months ago

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⋆₊⊹˚‧✩ Masterlist ✩‧˚⊹₊⋆

My AO3: hurtspideyparker

Irondad and Spiderson

A Much Needed Hug

I'm Not Your Dad (I Know That, Do You?)

Happy Hogan vs. the Chaotic Intern

Peter Takes Tony on a Poor Person's Tour of New York (Part 1)

Tony Takes Peter on a Rich Person's Tour of California (Part 2)

An Irondad Christmas

An Irondad Father's Day

Restless Spirit Tony Stark

Toddler!Peter Loves Cuddles

Tony's Love for Peter Only Pushes Him Away

Peter Wears a Pair of Tony's Glasses in the Lab

Peter Meets Baby Morgan

Emotional Support Intern Peter Parker

Peter Finds Doctor Doom Familiar

Tony Knew Peter for 2 Years and Mourned Him for 5

Texting series:

Irondad Halloween, Peter has a Puppy, Twitter Advice

Domestic Avengers

Avengers High School AU Incorrect Quotes

Babysitter Peter Finds the Avengers' Weak Spot

Avengers' Galentine's Day

Avengers' Beach Day!

Peter Stress Bakes in the Tower

The Team Thinks Peter is Tony's Illegitimate Child

Clint Likes to Wear Dresses

Tony Is Accidentally Put on Avengers' Suicide Watch

Peter Parker Can Wield Mjolnir

If Civil War Didn't End in Divorce and Everyone Lived Together:

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3

Ship Writing

Steve/Tony:

Tony Shuts Up the Captain With a Kiss

Bad Witch Encounter Leads to Much Worse

Unsent Love Letters & Hate Mail

Stony Move in Together and Discover Their Differences

Clint/Bucky:

Clint Helps Bucky on a Bad Day

Fluffy Late Night Shopping For First Aid

Steve/Tony/Bucky: Stuckony Headcanons

Tony/Bucky: Tony Sleeps With a Stranger (Who Turns Out to Be His New Bodyguard)

Peter/Wade: A Kiss Attack (Fluffy Morning)

Charles/Erik: Erik Loves Charles Like a Dog

Loki/Bucky: Loki Convinces Bucky He Isn't All That Bad

Other Marvel

Bucky Never Fully Comes Back

Yelena Never Answers Her Phone

JFK: The Mutant Magneto Tried to Save & Bucky Assassinated

See Also

I have tons of #incorrect marvel quotes on my blog !

My Peter Parker Spotify playlist + song explanations

#pinned post #irondad and spiderson #peter parker #tony stark #marvel #mcu #marvel mcu #avengers #marvel fanfic #domestic avengers #the avengers #steve rogers #natasha romanoff #clint barton #bucky barnes #bruce banner #thor #masterlist

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mister0ctopus · 2 months ago

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We Are All Sinners 02

Pairings: Jungkook x Reader

Summary: You left Jungkook and this town behind, but every visit pulls you back into his arms, chasing a high you can never leave behind.

NOTE: the first chapter was a oneshot, but it was kinda sad, so I decided to turn it into a series. It’s best to read the first chapter before this one for better context. Please see the SERIES CHAPTERS below. Thank you! <3

Au/Genre: Smut, Exes, Angst

Warnings: Explicit language, Mature Contents, themes of strained relationship with parents, mentions of divorce, mentions of alcohol dependency, mental health struggles, angst, but this ch is full of fluff and young love and very wholesome hehe

Ratings: 18+ ONLY!!! MDNI!

Word Count: 4.3K

a/n: this chapter is all about jungkook and yn’s story when they were younger, kinda exploring how things started between them. hope you like it :)

masterlist

SERIES CHAPTERS:

01: We Are All Sinners

02: We Were Holy Once

03: ???

04: ???

Jungkook loves the way you roll your eyes when he says something stupid.

He’s not actually stupid.

He’s actually on the honor roll (if that's how you measure intelligence, whatever that means).

BUT! If acting like an idiot gets a reaction out of you, then so be it.

He nudges Jimin to say something even dumber just so he can top it with an even more ridiculous response. And from the corner of his eye, he catches it—a huff . The most expression you’ve shown since you transferred in his school two months ago.

He’s been doing this since you came here. Being silly, acting stupid, acting smart, being quiet, being loud, everything…

Just to get anything from you.

You’re the new student from the big city and it shows. The way you dress, the way you speak, the way you act, it’s different from the rest of the kids in this small, quiet town.

Jungkook hopes you’ll grow to like it here. The mountains, the beaches, how the town feels cozy and warm even when it always rains.

But you don’t smile. You don’t talk to anyone.

He figures you’re just shy, just overwhelmed by everything new around you. It makes sense. You’re sixteen, and moving to a completely different place can’t be easy.

You seem lonely, and all he wants is for you to feel at home.

In his home.

This town.

Small towns have small-town habits, and people talk. He knows more about you than he probably should.

That you moved here with your mom after your parents' messy divorce.

That your mom grew up in this town but left young, built a life somewhere bigger.

That she married rich, and then came the divorce.

That she ran back here with you after the divorce. She works in an office now, at a local firm, or something like that…

Jungkook used to hate how fast gossip traveled here. But now? Now, he’s kind of grateful, because it means he knows about you. And one day, when you’re ready, he hopes you’ll tell him your story in your own words.

It was raining the day you finally spoke to him. Well, answered him.

You were standing under the shed after school, waiting. For something. Maybe for the rain to stop. He was passing by, carrying the ridiculously oversized red umbrella his mom insisted he bring. He stopped beside you, tilting his head.

“You waiting for someone?”

You hesitated for a second before answering. “No.”

Oh.

Your voice. It sounded so much nicer when directed at him.

He played it cool, pretending his heart wasn’t thumping like crazy. “You can share my umbrella if you want.”

You hesitated again, and Jungkook sent a silent prayer to the universe.

And maybe the gods were feeling generous that day because you nodded. “Okay.”

Okay.

He stepped closer, holding the umbrella over both of you, and you started walking.

“So where do you live?” He tried to sound casual but his heart! He feels like it's about to jump out of his chest.

“The street after the big hardware store.”

He already knew this information. Of course it’s a small town. Still, he gasped, “Really? That’s great!”

You blinked up at him, confused.

Crap. He overdid it. It sounded so fake.

“Well, I mean… I live on the next street after yours, so that means… uh, we get to share my umbrella until we both get home. So we don't get wet.” He chuckled, scratching the back of his neck.

You just hummed and nodded.

“So, what do you think of here?” he asked, curious of what you really feel in this town.

“I don’t know… I’m still getting situated,” you say with a small sigh, and Jungkook feels the weight of it.

He doesn’t know much about you yet, aside from the stories or rumors that he heard.

All he really knows is that you’re new here, that you don’t know anyone, and that there’s sadness when you speak that he doesn't like. Not one bit.

So he makes a quiet promise to himself, right then and there: he’s going to make sure you like it here. That you don’t feel so alone.

“So, you came here with your mom?” he asks, keeping his voice light.

You paused, barely looking at him. “Yeah.”

Your answer is hesitant, a little distant. He gets it. Maybe you’re not ready to talk about your life? And that’s okay.

He shifts the topic immediately. “You can join us during lunch breaks, you know? Jimin and I, and our friends, we’re super nice. If you, uh, if you like… you can sit with us. If you like.”

His voice stumbles, just a little, and he wants to kick himself. Why is he nervous? Why is he like this? God, what if you think he’s an idiot? What if—

You smile.

You smile at him.

God.

And suddenly, the rain feels like summer, and Jungkook forgets every single thought he was just having because…

God. You are so beautiful.

It’s small, just a tiny lift of your lips, but—

You look up at him and he can see your eyes catching the faint silver light of the gloomy sky, and the way the light catches on your lashes—

Prettiest eyes I’ve ever seen.

A little sad, a little guarded, but soft.

“Okay,” you say simply, turning your gaze back to the sidewalk as you keep walking.

Jungkook blinks. That’s a yes. You’re going to sit with him.

His heart physically hurts.

He presses his lips together, fighting back the smile threatening to take over his entire face.

A few minutes later, you stop in front of a white house with a blue gate. “Well, this is me.”

Now he hates that his school is so close to his house. He doesn’t want this walk to end.

He tugs at the strap of his backpack, rocking on his heels before saying, “I’ll walk you to the door, so you don’t get wet.”

You shake your head, and what happens next, he wasn’t prepared.

You laugh, no—more like, a giggle, soft and breathy and so melodic, like you’re genuinely amused. “No, it’s okay, silly! It’s just a short walk.”

Oh.

He stands there like an idiot, staring, watching as you jog lightly up to your front door, hoodie sleeves flopping over your hands, your hair bouncing with each step.

Then, you turn back. And then you lift your hand in a small, timid wave before disappearing inside.

You wave.

Him. You wave at him.

He doesn’t move. He doesn’t breathe. He doesn’t even blink.

He exhales, like he just remembered to breathe, head tilting back as he stares at the sky, still standing there in front of your house like some fool.

Fuck.

Jungkook swore he was the luckiest guy on earth tonight.

You said yes. You actually said yes when he asked if you wanted to come watch his band perform at the school’s music festival.

It still felt surreal.

His band, originally a garage band started by his older brother, Jin, and his friends, Yoongi and Namjoon, had been gaining attention since performing at the town’s sports festival. Now that Jungkook and Jimin had joined, they were getting gigs at bigger festivals… and tonight, they were playing for the school.

And you were coming to see them.

He was waiting by the main gate, feeling a little nervous. You were ten minutes late. Their performance was up next.

Then—

“Jungkook!”

His heart nearly leaped out of his chest.

He turned, and there you were—in denim shorts, high-top red Chucks, an oversized maroon hoodie. Hair slightly tousled, a little out of breath, like you’d rushed to get here.

So beautiful.

“Hey! You made it!” He couldn’t hide his excitement.

You nodded, still catching your breath.

“We’re on next,” he grinned. “Shall we?” He reached for your hand without thinking. And—oh.

You took it.

Another first.

Jungkook could barely contain his smile as he led you backstage.

“Do you mind if I introduce you to the guys first?” He sounded a little sheepish now.

You raised a brow.

“Well…” He scratched the back of his neck. “They didn’t believe you’d come. I just… I wanted to prove them wrong.” He laughed lightly, nose scrunching.

Your lips twitched. “Oh, so you wanted me here just to settle a bet?”

Jungkook panicked. “No! No, not at all! I mean…of course I wanted you here! I just also… kinda…want to show you around? To my friends, I mean.. If that’s ok…”

You hummed, tilting your head playfully.

He groaned, dragging a hand down his face. “That came out wrong—”

Your giggle interrupted him, and God, he almost melted.

“I’m kidding, Jungkook,” you rolled your eyes. And then you grinned. “Sure, I’d like to meet them.”

He lit up like a firework.

He navigated the messy backstage hallway, weaving through cables and equipment, and led you to a door with a sign that read Tiger Lilly—their band’s name.

“They gave us our own room,” he grins proudly before pushing the door open.

Inside, the guys were buzzing with last-minute prep.

"Jungkook! Finally, we’ve been looking for you!" A tall guy with a buzz cut turned toward him.

Jungkook barely heard him. He turned to you, practically bouncing on his feet. "YN's here!"

The tall guy’s eyes flickered to you, and he broke into a dimpled smile.

Jungkook nudged you forward. "This is Namjoon-hyung. He’s on drums."

"Hi," you said softly. "Nice to meet you." You reached out a hand, and Namjoon shook it warmly.

Jungkook beamed, then turned toward Jimin. You had started hanging out with him since joining Jungkook’s friends during lunch breaks.

"And you already know Jimin, our main guitarist."

Jimin, busy fixing his newly dyed blonde hair, turned when he heard his name. When he saw you, his eyes widened for a second before he grinned.

"YN? Hey! You actually came!"

Jungkook grinned smugly. "Told you."

Before Jimin could say anything else, Jungkook was already dragging you toward two other guys.

"Hyung!" he called out, and two men looked up.

One of them—pale, platinum blond—nodded in greeting.

"This is Yoongi-hyung, our bassist. Best of the best. Hyung, this is YN!"

Yoongi looked intimidating at first, but when smiled— a gummy smile, his entire face softened. "Jungkook talks about you a lot."

You blinked, a little surprised. "Oh. Uh… thanks?" You glanced at Jungkook.

Jungkook didn’t even have time to panic over that before another voice chimed in.

"Finally, our golden vocalist returns."

Jin, who you knew was Jungkook's older brother since he talked about him nonstop, looked like a model with his purple hair as he tinkered with a keyboard. He glanced at Jungkook expectantly.

Jungkook rolled his eyes. "I was waiting for YN. She’s still getting used to the school."

Jin smirked. "Ah, so you’re YN. Jungkook talks about you nonstop. You should see him in rehear—"

"Hyung, stop! Ugh." Jungkook groaned, touching his ears, which were now turning red.

Jin just laughed and reached for your hand. "Hey, I’m Jin."

You shook his hand and gave him a soft "Hi, nice to meet you."

And you smiled again. You found Jin’s laugh funny. But you smiled again.

You’d been smiling a lot these past few days.

Jungkook swore his heart had never been this full.

"This was Tiger Lilly! Thank you for coming!"

Jungkook’s voice filled the venue—slightly breathless—and the crowd erupted.

It was unbelievable. The cheers, the signs with their band’s name, the how people chanted for them. For him.

You knew they were good, but seeing them live, how they commanded the stage, made you realize just how talented they were. How talented he was.

Jungkook was a natural.

And the pride swelling in your chest caught you completely off guard.

As soon as they ended their performance, Jungkook practically flung his guitar aside, jumping down from the stage. Still glistening with sweat, he ran toward you, as he aggressively dabbed at his damp skin.

He was glowing. Smiling so wide. His hair is a mess from all the movement, sticking to his forehead.

He looked…

Happy.

And it made your stomach flip because he was running to you.

“Hey! We were good, right?” His words came out in an excited rush, chest still rising and falling from the performance.

You nodded, unable to hide your own excitement. “Yeah! You did great! I’m so proud of you!”

The words slipped out before you could overthink them.

Jungkook froze, then… his entire face lit up.

“Really?” His voice was almost disbelieving. His teeth dug into his bottom lip, failing successfully to suppress his grin.

Your heart skipped.

“Of course,” you said, eyes soft. “You were amazing up there.”

Jimin’s voice cut through the moment.

“Kook! YN! Afterparty! Let’s go!”

You turned to see him waving from backstage.

Jungkook perked up immediately. “Oh! Yeah... So we have an afterparty a few blocks from here.” He turned back to you, excited. “It’s just us and some of the other bands that played. It’s by the beach house. Come with me, please?”

Then, he leaned in a little, “There’s gonna be s’mores.”

That sheepish little grin, his toothy grin… He knew exactly how to persuade you.

You laughed, warmth spreading through your chest. “Okay! Yeah!”

But just as quickly as you agreed, reality hit.

Your curfew.

Your mom usually went to bed early, but she checked your room sometimes. If she woke up and you weren’t there—

Jungkook’s face fell immediately.

“What’s wrong?”

You barely had time to be surprised. How did he pick up on that so fast?

“Oh. I just have a curfew,” you admitted, chewing your lip. “Eleven. I mean, my mom’s probably asleep, but she checks my room sometimes."

Jungkook didn’t even hesitate.

“Oh, no worries! I’ll drive you home before eleven. I won’t drink. I mean—” He suddenly scratched his neck, sheepish. “I don’t drink anyway. I’m still a minor—heh.”

His little awkward chuckle. The way he ducked his head.

Why was he so adorable?

Jungkook reached for your hand. Like it was natural. Like he didn’t even have to think twice.

Your fingers curled slightly, your palm warm against his.

And just like that, he led you down the hallway, grinning, buzzing with energy.

Cutest boy you’d ever met.

Jungkook tries to focus on his breathing. Really trying. But it’s impossible when you’re sitting this close.

The beach party roars behind him. The laughter, the music… He has no idea where his hyungs went. Who knows? Who cares?

Because right now, none of it matters.

Not when you're beside him, close enough that he can smell your shampoo—something floral, soft, sweet. Close enough that your leg keeps brushing against his, and holy shit, your skin is so smooth.

You’re both sitting in the back of an old, abandoned pickup truck, slightly away from the chaos. It’s the best spot on the beach whenever people hang out. It’s dim here, only the silver glow of the moon tracing the curves of your face. You look… ethereal. Yeah. That’s the word.

You’ve been talking. About school, about town life. But he hasn’t asked about your mom. He wants to—God, he wants to know everything about you. But he remembers how your shoulders tensed the last time someone mentioned her. He doesn’t want to ruin this, whatever this is. He just wants to keep listening to your voice.

“I like your friends. The ones at school, especially Jimin. And your bandmates. They’re all nice.”

Jungkook swallows.

You like them? That’s good. Great, actually. He wants you to feel welcome here.

He turns his head to look at you, and wow… the way the moonlight makes your eyes gleam, how the ocean breeze plays with your hair…

So beautiful.

“I like that you feel that way here,” he said, quieter this time. “I know it’s a lot… moving and all.”

He hesitates, suddenly nervous.

“I just… I want you to like it here.”

You don’t talk much about your life before coming to this town. You don’t talk about your mom.

Not about the way she started drinking again, how she clings to it after the divorce. Not about how you watch her shift… how, on the good days, she is warmth and laughter and the mother you remember. But when the skies inside your home turn gloomy, when the sadness seeps into the walls, she becomes someone else. Bitter and mean and vile.

And you hate it. Not her, but the way the light inside her dims. She’s hurting. She’s trying to cope. And you feel helpless, and useless, not knowing what to do.

So you don’t talk about it. Because if you say it out loud, people might misunderstand. They might see her only for her worst moments, not the woman who is simply hurting ang trying her best.

You turn to Jungkook.

Only to find him already looking, trying to figure you out by looking at you.

“I hope someday you can just talk to me about what you’re really thinking. When you're ready, I’m here, for whatever you need. I hope someday you'll feel at home here, too."

You smile at him and warmth settles in your chest against the cold sea breeze.

Sweetest boy you’ve ever met.

So good. So pure. And everything harsh and hard around you, every jagged edge, is being softened in his presence. Eroded.

He tells you he hopes you feel at home here. You don’t tell him that you already do. Not in the town, but here, beside him.

“You have the prettiest eyes,” he murmurs, almost absentmindedly.

Under the moonlight, you let yourself truly take him in. The arrogant slope of his nose, the curve of his lips and the mole just below, the faint scar on his cheek, his dark lashes, his round eyes… you take it all in.

And then, slowly, hesitantly, he leans in.

The scent of him hits first—musk and vanilla, and Jungkook.

Then—his lips.

The first touch is barely there, a whisper, a question. His lips graze yours, unsure. You mimic the way he moves, hesitant, careful.

And then everything else fades.

The distant sound of the waves, the laughter from the party, the weight of what you carry—none of it exists.

There is only him.

He exhales softly against your lips, like relief, like finally. Like he has been running toward this moment for so long and has just now arrived.

He breaks the kiss, his hands cupping your face, thumbs gently brushing your cheeks as he studies you.

You smile at him, as if to say, I liked that very much.

He must understand, because he smiles too.

His fingers graze your jawline, his fingertips slightly rough from playing the guitar.

And then, he kisses you again, firmer this time. His lips gently molding into yours, letting your lips part just enough before he tilts his head to savor you more.

To be kissed like this.

Your first kiss.

Only for your phone to vibrate in your back pocket, breaking the trance.

You and Jungkook freeze, breathless, blinking at each other like you’ve just resurfaced from deep water. Then, almost at the same time, you both let out soft, breathless laughs as you scramble for your phone.

Your alarm, 30 minutes until curfew.

Jungkook catches a glimpse of your screen before pushing himself up and effortlessly hopping out of the back of the pickup.

His movements are easy, fluid, and then he turns to you, hand outstretched.

You shift forward, about to take it, but instead, his hands find your waist.

Before you can even process what’s happening, he lifts you off the truck bed like you weigh nothing. His grip is firm but gentle, and your body is pressed against his, and you feel his solid body against yours. Warm enough to seep through your thick hoodie.

When your feet touch the ground, heat creeps up your neck. But before you can dwell on it, his fingers find yours, and you follow him as he leads you to the front of the beach house, where a car is parked.

He catches your questioning look and grins.

“I borrowed Jin’s car,” he smiles, opening the passenger door. He tilts his head toward the seat. “Let's get you home.”

He closes the door behind you once you're in, then jogs to the driver’s side, sliding in effortlessly and buckling his seatbelt.

The moment you start driving into the night, drops of rain hit the windshield.

The drive is quick, and as you pass the big hardware store, you turn to him.

“Hey,” you said, “can you drop me off at the corner?”

Jungkook glances at you, confused. “Why? You’d have to walk past, like, five houses to get home.”

“Yeah, well…” You hesitate, unsure how to say it, “I just don’t want mom seeing me get out of a car. She’s probably asleep, but she’s a light sleeper sometimes, and… I just don’t want to deal with any talks about me going out, you know?.”

Jungkook says nothing as he slows down and stops the car at the corner.

“It’s raining.”

“It’s ok,” you say, reaching for the door handle. “I’ll dry off when I get home.”

But before you can step out, he unbuckles his seatbelt and hops out into the rain.

“What are you—”

And then he’s at the trunk, grabbing something.

His huge, red umbrella.

He pops it open, opens your door, and holds out a hand.

"Come on," he casually says. Without a word, you take his hand, and let him help you out of the car. Rain patters softly against the umbrella as you walk side by side down the wet pavement.

Then, his arm wraps around your waist, his body warm against the cool breeze.

Neither of you says anything. You just walk together, listening to the patter of rain and the rhythm of your unhurried steps.

How you feel safe and content just by being close to him—you don’t know. It is new, but it is not confusing.

When you reach your gate, he exhales and turns to you with a small, lopsided smile. But he doesn’t let go of your waist.

“Thanks for driving me home,” you whisper. “Drive safe. Good night.”

“Good night,” he murmurs back.

You push at the gate gently, careful not to make noise, only to realize it won’t budge. Your stomach drops.

You glance at Jungkook, panic flickering across your face.

“Mom never locks the gate,” you whisper. “I didn’t bring my key to this thing."

He steps forward, inspecting the lock, then glances up at the height of the gate. Without a word, he shifts the umbrella into your hands.

Then—he climbs.

Effortlessly.

You watch him jump in with your mouth slightly open.

And then, within seconds, he’s unlocking it from the inside, pushing it open for you.

The two of you walk silently toward the front door. Once you reach it, you stand there and face him.

You look up at him, eyes searching, heart in your throat.

And then, without thinking—

You tiptoe.

And you kiss him.

At first, it was a soft press of your lips to his, to say thank you.

'Thank you' for making you feel less alone.

He freezes, breath hitching, caught off guard. But the second you part your lips over his—god—

he exhales a shaky breath and kisses you back, as if to say you're welcome.

You are welcome in his mouth. In everything that he has, you are welcome. Come in. Feel at home—it's yours to invade, to take, to make yours.

His hands fly to your waist, gripping, pulling you closer, closer, until there’s no space between you. His mouth parts, catching your lower lip between his, sucking gently, teasing.

A quiet, shaky noise escapes you.

And that sound, it does something to him.

With barely controlled urgency, his hand slides to the back of your neck, fingers tangling in your messy hair as he tilts your head to deepen the kiss. His other arm tightens around your waist, pulling you closer, closer… until you feel him gently grind into you. Only once. Gently. But you feel it, pressed against his warm, solid body. You feel it.

When his tongue brushes against your lips, silently for permission, you let him in.

Your hands clutch at his hoodie to pull him closer, and he whimpers into your mouth—a soft, wrecked sound. You pull back to catch your breath, and he presses his forehead against yours for a second... but then, as if he can’t wait any longer, as if a second is an eternity, he finds your lips again, capturing them in another deep, long kiss.

He smiles into the kiss, and finally pulls away, lips red, swollen, slick.

His voice is hushed and breathy. “Good night, YN.”

You barely find the breath to respond. “Good night, Jungkook.”

You step back, slipping inside. The door closes between you, but your body still feels like it’s pressed against his.

You quietly climb the stairs, smiling, head spinning, lips swollen, stomach flipping. The house is dark and silent, the only light guiding you is the moonlight from the window at the end of the hallway.

You slip into your room quickly, and just as you reach your window, you see him—standing by your gate, looking back, scanning your house.

When he sees you watching from your window, a wide, boyish grin spreads across his face. He gives you a small wave before jogging back to his car and disappearing into the night.

And you stand there, staring after him, knowing one thing for certain…

Jungkook has your heart.

Your first love.

masterlist / thoughts?questions?

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