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guiltyasdave · 10 months ago

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help me hold onto you

pairing: Logan Howlett/Wolverine x mutant! f!reader

word count: ~3.5k

summary: Logan deals with feeling guilty after he's accidentally cut you with his claws in his sleep.

warnings/tags: explicit smut (-> 18+ only!), able-bodied reader, reader has hair that can be pulled, no use of y/n, Logan lifts reader up but he's superhumanly strong, so-, graphic description of an injury, graphic description of violence, angst, nightmares, Logan's pov, fighting as foreplay, unprotected p in v, rough sex, biting, praise kink, a lot of animalistic behavior due to their mutations, like they're just a little... primal, it's cute i swear, also reader looks like a human being it's just the mannerisms, fluff

a/n: guess i'm a multi fandom writer now? this literally came to me in a fever dream, very much like the logan brainrot itself lol. this is my first time writing for the man, after watching the movies - also for the first time - last week, so please be gentle with me <3 something very similar happens in the origins movie and i wanted them to explore that more, but alas, i had to do it myself.

massive thanks to @kiwisbell for assuring me that this idea isn't terrible and for freaking out about logan with me in general, to @catchallfangirl for coming up with the whole cat theme and for being so supportive, to @sizzlingcloudmentality for matching my freak and taking the cat theme to the next level, for helping me plot and for being an amazing beta reader, and to @javier-pena for listening to me rant about this idea and being so lovely and supportive <3

dividers by @saradika-graphics who is a queen <3

notifications blog -> @guiltyasdavenotifs & full masterlist -> here

Most nights, Logan sleeps easier when you’re in bed with him. Your body pressed against his, your skin soft and warm against his bare chest. One of his thighs between your legs where you’ve wrapped yourself around him, your touch moving over his torso aimlessly, fingers curling into his chest hair, your hands kneading his flesh in your sleep. The soothing little purrs that emit from your chest when you’re sound asleep. None of it bothers him, no matter how many times it disturbs his own rest.

It keeps him grounded, feeling you next to him. He’d rather spend the whole night somewhere in that haze between waking and sleeping, listening to your sounds, your breath fanning against his skin, than being pulled under into the depths of his subconsciousness.

He’d rather open his eyes to see you disentangling your limbs from his, stretching your whole body, arching against him as you yawn.

He’d rather greet you with a smiling “Good morning, kitten,” waiting for that adorable little crease to appear between your brows when you pout up at him.

“Did I do it again?”

He doesn’t hide his grin as he nods, growing wider when you flop back against the cushions with a groan.

“What exactly?”

“All of it.”

Your sorry comes out muffled as you hide your face behind your hands.

“It’s okay,” he says, leaning over you to pull your hands away and kiss the pout off your lips. Caressing that spot under your chin with two fingers, watching you go all soft, baring your throat to him. “I like it.”

He would much rather wake up like this.

But it’s been a long week and he’s exhausted. Exhausted enough to get lulled into a deep sleep, encased in the safe cloud of your warm body against his and your touch on his skin. Exhausted enough to dream. And his dreams are not a safe place.

His eyes fly open with a shout, his whole body jolting upwards, every muscle pulled taut. He doesn’t even register the claws shooting out between his knuckles, all of his instincts screaming at him to fight.

He’s only faintly aware of the sudden yelp of pain from beside him, the movement of something jerking away from him.

“Logan,” your voice rings through the buzzing in his ears. Smaller hands landing on his shoulders, fighting to hold him steady.

It takes a few disoriented blinks before he recognizes the familiar bedroom, a few more deep breaths to stop his body from shaking. To clear the fog in his head enough to understand what you’re saying.

“It’s me, Logan. You’re safe, everyone’s safe, it’s okay.”

His eyes find yours in the semi-darkness. Wide with worry, but firmly trained on his face, repeating that everything’s okay. He finally registers the familiar weight of you straddling him, understands that it’s your fingers digging into his shoulders.

He’s still panting, not daring to look away from your face again. The one tether that keeps him from getting lost in his mind again.

“Are you with me?” you ask, your voice softer now.

He manages a nod, tries to smile, to wipe the deep worry of your face, but he’s not sure if his mouth even twitches.

As the feeling slowly returns to his body, he notices something else. A kind of wetness, warm and sticky where your right hand is connected to his skin. The unmistakable tang of iron in the air. He stretches to turn on a bedside lamp, jostling you along with his movement. A quiet whimper hits his ears, so low that he’s sure you tried to suppress it.

With a new kind of panic surging through him, he grabs hold of your arm, bringing it to his eye level.

Three scratches ooze in deep red, just beneath your wrist. It forces a gasp from him, eyes dancing frantically between the wounds on your arm and your face. How much blood did you lose already while you were busy helping him? As if he deserved it.

“Fuck, I’m— I’m so sorry baby, we gotta—” He stumbles over his own words, grasping at you almost blindly, panicked tears blurring his vision. He did this.

“Logan,” you say, still so inexplicably calm. “It’s fine. Look. It’s fine.”

You gently pry his fingers off your arm and bring your wrist up to your mouth. Your tongue darts out, drawing long licks against your marred skin, collecting the blood and gliding over the cuts in your flesh.

It pains him to watch, but it’s the least he can do. The least he owes you. He watches you clean the blood off, watches as the wounds start shrinking at the touch of your saliva, as the skin smoothes over before his very eyes until there’s only three thin marks left, a shade lighter than the rest of your skin.

“Look,” you tell him again, extending your arm towards him. “I told you it’s okay.”

He knows you can do this, of course he does. Has watched you multiple times, his fascination with your powers never wavering. How fluidly you move, how quick you attack, how skilled you are at surviving. You just never had to survive him.

You lean down on top of him until your whole torso rests on his, your thighs still on either side of him, burrowing your head into his chest. “Which war did you dream about?” you ask quietly.

Most of the time, the dreams don’t grant him the mercy to zero in on one single memory. It’s a constant stream, one fight after the other, until all he knows is shouting, fighting, blood and death.

“All of them.”

You sigh deeply, your breath cool against his sweat-dampened skin. Raising your head a little, you start placing kisses on his chest, pressing your lips into his skin where you can feel the faint beating of his heart.

“I wish I could kiss this better, too,” you mumble.

He chuckles humorlessly, one hand reaching into your hair to scratch at your scalp. You shudder at the touch, an approving little purr traveling up your throat.

“It’s okay now,” he mutters, leaning in to inhale the scent of your hair. “Just— I’m really sorry.”

“Don’t be.”

It sounds so simple, falling from your lips like this. But it’s no match for the aching guilt that’s already eating at him, the questions of what if that start swirling through his mind.

Your body is growing heavier on top of him as you relax, your breaths evening out and your eyelids fluttering shut. It soothes him, has his own breathing slowing down, but he can’t risk falling asleep again. Not like this, not with your body so close to his.

“What are you— Logan?” comes your instant protest when he moves you to your side of the mattress, your eyes flying back open, wide and mildly confused.

“I could’ve killed you,” he mutters. It could have happened so easily. Just a little deeper, just a slightly different spot.

“No, you couldn’t,” you quip, arching an eyebrow at him. “Cats have nine lives, remember?” You sneak another quick kiss on his chest before finding his gaze again, a teasing smile on your lips. “Even kittens.”

It’s an attempt to lighten the mood, to make him laugh. He knows that. You hate the pet name he’s given you.

“And you’re not gonna waste one on me,” he grits out.

Hurt flashes over your face, more pain in your eyes than when there was an actual wound on your arm.

“It wouldn’t be—”

“Don’t you dare say it wouldn’t be a waste.”

The words come out as a low growl, aggressive enough to send most anyone running. You don’t run.

Your animal doesn’t like it when he growls at you. He can feel the tension rolling off of you, your hair probably standing on end. Gritting your teeth, you take a deep breath, release your fingers’ grip from digging into the sheets.

“Let’s talk about it in the morning,” you tell him, resignation in your voice.

Your eyes fall shut again, your head for once resting on your own pillow instead of his chest. He misses the weight of it instantly. You doze off quickly, your hands still pawing weakly at his side, like your body can’t help it. He almost pulls you closer himself.

While you sleep, Logan forces his own eyes to stay wide open, staring unseeingly into the darkness.

It’s a quiet day. You had tried talking to him, tried to convince him that it’s okay, that it’s fine. He can’t keep listening to you insisting that him almost killing you is no big deal. He should have known, should have been more aware of the risk instead of letting himself get lost in the blissful sensation of your body curled around his every night. You’ve trusted him so completely, only for him to let you down.

Just like he always does, the voice in his head whispers.

No matter how many times you swear that you can take care of yourself, he should still be protecting you, not actively putting you in danger while you’re fucking asleep. It’s happened once now, so it can happen again, and he knows that he could never forgive himself.

He knows that he’s hurting your feelings. Sees how your brows knit together when he barely kisses you back throughout the day. How you bite your lip when the way you’re butting your head against his doesn’t make him chuckle like it usually does.

He should be angry at himself. He is. But you shouldn’t be the one to catch the brunt of it, and it makes him feel even worse. You always say that he should talk about his feelings more, that it would help to let them out. He suspects that you’re right. He just doesn’t know how.

By evening, you’ve grown uncharacteristically quiet, but he keeps catching your burning glares at him when you think he isn’t looking. Finally, after you’ve stared at him for what felt like an eternity and he’s pointedly ignored you, you seem to snap.

“Can you stop it?!” It leaves your mouth in a hiss, triggering his instincts before the words even register in his brain.

“Stop what?” he growls back.

Your fingers curl as a low snarl escapes you. Normally, neither of you lets your animalistic side take over like that. Normally, you’re good at soothing each other.

But tonight, he can feel the energy crackle between you, the tension begging to be released.

“You know what! This fucking— sulking or whatever it is you think you’re doing!”

He rises to his feet, pulling up to his full height. One of your hands twitches.

“I’m not—”

You charge at him with an angry shout before another word can leave his mouth. You’re on him in a flash, grabbing onto his arm and letting your momentum carry you until you’re behind him, your nails digging into his shoulders until you’re perched on his backside.

Whipping his head around, he bares his teeth at you, growls rumbling in his chest. You angrily hiss in his face and swing a hand at him in return, leaving angry red scratches down his cheek. They heal and fade as quickly as they came, but a triumphant grin flashes over your features regardless.

“Come on, Logan,” you breathe into his ear. The edge in your voice sends fire straight through him. “Fight. You’re not gonna break me.” Your canines nip at his earlobe, somewhere between affectionate and challenging.

He tries shaking you off, but your grip on him only tightens. He collects a fist of your hair instead, pulling harshly to keep your teeth away from his throat.

“Enough,” he grits, trying desperately to regain control, to become more human again, to smother the primal need to match your aggression.

He finally grabs hold of one of your hands as well and manages to rip you off his back and in front of him, holding on tight to your upper arms to keep you in place. You’re snarling and twisting in his hold, but he doesn’t let up.

“Enough,” he repeats, searching your wild eyes. Your movements slow down a fraction, giving him a moment of hope, before you surge forward and bury your teeth in his lower lip. It hurts like hell and he can taste blood on his tongue instantly.

“Fight me,” you demand again, baring your teeth at him.

He pulls you back by your hair with a roar, gathers both your wrists in one large hand and holds you steady. You could still break free if you wanted to, he thinks. He might be stronger than you, but your movements turn almost liquid when you want to escape, he’s watched it more than once.

The pain in his lip has already subsided, but his blood is still coating your mouth, a stark contrast against the white shimmer of your teeth.

“Are you done?” His voice is harsh, his jaw clenched, carefully keeping the desire to strike back at bay.

You deflate a little, some of the wildness draining from you before his eyes.

“I just— I’m not fragile, I don’t want you to be scared of— of touching me.” Your voice grows small at the end and he’s horrified to see wetness glistening in your eyes.

The fight mode leaves him as fast as it came, replaced with the overwhelming urge to care, to protect what’s his. His pack, in a way.

He gathers you into his arms, curling himself around you. It feels good to hold you close again. Breathing you in deeply, he smells the adrenaline still oozing from you, hears the rapid beating of your heart. But mostly, it’s your unique scent, one that he thinks he could recognize anywhere. His tether to this world.

“I’m sorry, kitten. I’m not scared of touching you,” he mumbles into your hair.

You sniffle against his chest, but when you finally raise your head to look at him, new determination is glinting in your eyes.

“Prove it,” you coo, tracing the shape of his lips with one fingertip. “Please.”

That he can do. He nips at your finger playfully, your responding giggle the best sound he’s heard all day, before he shoves it out of the way to connect his lips with yours. It’s rough, a clashing of teeth and tongues, the tension that has been building and warping all day finally finding a release.

You gasp into his mouth when his tongue moves against yours, your hands pulling at his hair, needing him closer and closer still, never close enough. His groan at the taste of you travels through you both as he’s grasping at your clothes.

He longs for your warm skin under his palms, longs for how you lean into his touch so needy all the damn time. You pull away with a moan, helping him to pull your sweater over your head and stepping out of your jeans as he sheds his flannel.

You bring both hands up to cup his face, to search his eyes. “Don’t be gentle,” you plead, “please, I need—”

You don’t have to keep talking for him to understand what you need. I’m not scared of touching you.

With a growl, his hands find your hips, holding you tight as he’s walking you backwards until your ass connects with the backside of the couch. He crowds you in, paws at every inch of bare skin he can reach, his cock already hard and aching at your soft warmth and the sweet mewls that tumble from your lips.

Hitching one of your legs up to open you for him, he grinds himself against your barely covered center. A keening sound escapes you at the friction from his jeans against your sensitive flesh and he allows himself a grin.

“Feels good, kitten?”

You nod mindlessly, holding onto him and rocking your hips against his while you’re letting him move you however he sees fit.

“Do you want more?”

“Please, Logan.”

You sound so sweet when you’re like this, when you put your body into his hands. I’m not scared of touching you.

Setting your leg back down, he watches with hunger as you hastily take off your underwear while he pulls the white tank top over his head and opens his belt buckle. He could swear that your pupils dilate a fraction at the sound of it, filling him with a possessive sense of pride.

As soon as his jeans hit the floor, he’s all over you again, palming the weight of your breasts, tugging and pinching at your nipples as he swallows down your mewls. You’re soaking wet already, covering his cock in your slick as he nudges against your folds. He’s impatient to feel you all around him, to sink into you, to stake his claim again and again and again.

He normally works you open longer, gives you more time to prepare, but your impatience is just as apparent as his own, with the way you whine and plead for him, your fingers digging into his flesh, trying to pull him nearer.

He follows your pull, pressing your backside into the couch once more as he crowds your space. Leaning in, he kisses you deeply, licking into your mouth, one hand buried in your hair and holding you close.

“I love you,” he breathes against your lips as he lets go of you. I’m not scared of touching you.

You smile softly, echoing the sentiment back at him.

A surprised squeak escapes you when he turns you around suddenly, bending you over the back of the couch. He lines himself up at your dripping entrance, desperate to fill you up, to give you what you’re craving.

“Not gentle?” he rasps once more, one hand curling around your neck from behind, both in reassurance and dominance.

“Not gentle,” comes your breathy answer. It breaks off into a shriek of a moan when he slams into you with one long thrust, stretching your tight walls around his length. The sting of his sudden intrusion has to hurt at least a little, but you push back against him eagerly, his name falling from your lips like a prayer.

Logan holds himself still for a moment, mesmerized by the sight of your squirming body and your needy little sounds, before he pulls out almost entirely, only to push back in forcefully. Your toes barely reach the floor with how far he’s bent you over, lifting you into the air with every harsh thrust, but he’s holding you steady with ease, both hands possessively spanning over your waist, positioning you exactly where he wants you.

“Taking me so fucking well, like you were made for me,” he growls, gently scratching over your back with his nails. You arch up to chase his touch, tightening around him, almost purring with pleasure. Wetness pours out of you, coating his cock. I’m not scared of touching you. Not when it feels this good.

“M–more, please,” you whine, blindly reaching backwards to him.

He leans over you, cages you in, his arms on either side of you, his breath hot against your skin. His teeth sink into the back of your neck, not so deep as to draw blood, but enough that he knows the indents will stay there for quite some time.

Your whole body goes limp at the sensation, a surprised mewl escaping you as you clench around him wildly.

“Fuck,” he breathes, his own hips stuttering, “give it to me kitten, come on—”

He reaches around your hip, fingers teasing through your slick folds and up to your clit, rubbing with slight pressure as he keeps pistoning into your heat.

“Logan—” you gasp, getting almost impossibly tight, before you shatter around him. He keeps thrusting into you, keeps up his ministrations on your clit, until the pulsing of your cunt around him sends him over the edge as well. He spills his release deep inside of you, the thought of leaving a part of him with you always filling him with a primal satisfaction.

Pulling you up instantly, he gathers you in his arms, your body soft and pliant against his chest. Walking around the couch and sinking into the cushions to lie down, he gently moves you until your weight is resting on top of him, his embrace wrapping around you.

You stir a little, needing a moment to take in your position. The look of uncertainty that you give him damn near breaks his heart. “Is this okay?” You sound uncertain, too.

God, he’s such an idiot.

“Yeah, kitten. It’s— fuck, of course it’s okay.”

thank you so so much for reading! i hope you enjoyed, and if you did, a comment or a reblog would absolutely make my day :)

-> part 2!

#logan howlett #wolverine #james logan howlett #logan howlett x reader #logan howlett x you #logan howlett x female reader #wolverine x reader #wolverine x you #wolverine x female reader #x men #hugh jackman #logan howlett fanfiction #janas fics

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bendover-productions · 2 months ago

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bless tenor @lagging-jets for coming through with the details:

WAS ANYONE GOING TO TELL ME SAM WAS A DANIEL RICCIARDO FAN OR WAS I JUST SUPPOSED TO FIND THIS OUT BY WATCHING SEASON THREE MYSELF

#AND IT WAS POST-RED BULL???? POST RED BULL????? ohhhh i’m gonna be sick….#'wHiCh iS a SeNTiMeNt i DoN't tHiNk He'S iNtErNaLiZeD' oh my GOD #can we. can we unpack that in about 10000 words. give or take.#['bUt iT's SoMeTHiNg hE tHiNkS aBoUt' in what capacity. how so.]#i don't even think it's conscious 'it's ok for other people to fail but not me' like that's not what's going on here.#there is not some kind of insane competitive perfectionist vibe going on here. would i be into that? sure.#i don't think sam's even gotten there yet. like the failure is a divine act of Fate capital F hero style. (and to be fair sometimes it is)#i think it is just not quite conceptualizing or processing the failure as even existing really until it does. maybe it's just the edit #showing us him be less unhinged/enthused/the active process of sam being ok with losing and pulling back instead of whack-o mode #and perhaps it is a little bit the art of losing isn't hard to master style pre-emptive letting go of things before they can let go of you #and by GOD if i am not going to take sam marathon-running away from his problems and run it into the ground.#sorry do you run your body into the point of failure for fun or as an unconscious mechanism to obtain things you can control #and failures you can objectively measure. maybe it'll make you feel better knowing the precise moment when you would reach the threshold #of defeat & to pull back from it. or to not. it's just a race. it's just a game. it's not a public theater watching you fail over & over #surely it says nothing about you or your relationship to your coworkers that they design a game that you simply cannot win (you could win)#(you've simply trapped yourself into a labyrinth of your own making) (you are unintentionally stopping yourself from winning sometimes)#(oh if i had more narrative knowledge of the danny ric learned helplessness... i remember mclaren controversy. with lando and placements #and who was better or worse or winning for the team. i recall the notion of these things happening alas: do/did not follow enough to know)#anyway. want to turn over the idea of danny ric's retirement with that terrible 10 year reunion not-fic of adam with this idea of sam #also somehow i want the narratives tied. every time sam loses a season he watches danny ric lose a race #and then he sees him act a fool with lando and everyone.#sam what is important here. sam answer quickly. what's more important the winning or the joy. sam. sam do you see the lesson #right everybody. queue up the creeper be my end fancam #also this gets to skip to the top of the queue #biggest frustration to being queue mutual is when y’all don’t know my thoughts exactly when i have them!! do i value a consistent presence #yeah but. i need to Tell People Things. it’s okay i can have queue blogs and then yap central blogs

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xomakara · 2 months ago

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Love On The Floor

SUMMARY | You're on vacation with your girls and you can't help but be attracted to the hot DJ.

PAIRINGS | Johnny x Reader

RATING | Mature, NSFW, EXPLICIT, MDNI, 18+, Any Minors and Ageless Blogs will be blocked

GENRE | smut, non-idol au

CONTENT/WARNINGS | DJ!Johnny, profanity, drinking, non-idol au, flirting, kissing, teasing, unprotective sex (wrap it up ya’ll!), outdoor sex, beach sex, fingering, marking, hair grabbing, riding, creampies, lots of dirty talk

LENGTH | 10,545 words

TAGLIST | @lovetaroandtaemin @aerangi

NETWORKS | @k-vanity @ksmutsociety @keopihaus @neocity-net @cosyhomenet

AUTHOR’S NOTE | What was supposed to be a 2k fic ended up being a 10k fic lolol. I couldn't help it… DJ Johnny has got me feral.

NCT Main Masterlist

The beat pulsed through the outside venue as bodies moved together to the rhythm of the music, a sea of flailing arms, flowing dresses, and brightly colored alcohol in cups. The vacation resort was well known for its beach-side night parties that happened every evening, allowing people to dance all their cares away. It was a famous tourist destination, the huge tropical beach allowing its patrons to soak up the sunshine in the daytime, and then dance their heart away by the bright lights of the nighttime party. The whole island seemed to thrum with energy, the atmosphere electric from the beating rhythm of the dance music and the delighted cries from the partygoers.

"Earth to Y/N!"

Your attention turned to your friend as you realizedd that she was trying to get your attention.

"Oops," you laughed and smiled at her. "Sorry, just zoned out for a sec. Got distracted." You couldn't help your wandering gaze that took in the mass amount of scantily-clad girls writhing their hips against muscular, shirtless men. "This is so different from what I'm used to."

Mira raised an eyebrow, clearly in good spirits after already taking several shots. "I know this isn't your usual scene but the girls and I thought that you should stop moping over your breakup with Taeyong and actually have some fun! Go hit up on a guy or something, get your freak on."

You playfully punched Mira. "He wasn't like the rest, you know?"

You looked down sadly. He had been a gentle soul and treated you right; you still weren't sure why he had cheated. It had hit you hard and your friends thought that a change of pace was needed. A vacation to relax and let loose was exactly what was needed, a way to let go of the stress and have fun.

"Look Y/N, you've been moping over him for four months already," Jinhee started. "You're here, on vacation in a tropical paradise surrounded by sexy guys who have their shirts off, showing off their chests," she fanned herself and looked off into the distance dreamily, "and gorgeous smiles andー"

"Calm your tits," Sowon jokingly hit Jinhee lightly. She looks back at you, pushing your usual drink closer to you. "Babe, we love you and want to see you happy again. Not cry over some guy who can't even tell you why he cheated."

"We're not telling you to date someone tonight, but just forget about him and live a little, ok?" Mira finished.

You bit your bottom lip and thought, staring out into the night as you considered her words. You loved Taeyong, more than anything. You had hoped for a future together; the wedding, the children, the big family holidays and birthdays... but it was all shattered, left lying in tatters after your suspicions were confirmed with the one simple sentence, "I can explain."

He couldn't.

After many arguments, broken tears and broken hearts later, you both parted ways. You thought you truly loved him, that he was your soulmate. He had made it clear to you how sorry he had been and wanted you to take him back. But your heart wouldn't let you go back, the pain from his betrayal being too raw and it left you aching. You threw yourself into work since then, finding solace in your research and volunteering. And so, for the past few months, the cycle continued: work, work, sleep, work. It was nice and constant, but this is where the girls came in and saved your life from boredom.

"Live a little, huh?" you questioned, fingers wrapped around the stem of the cocktail glass, twisting it absentmindedly before you took another sip. You took another look around the outdoor venue. The night sky stretched endlessly above you, twinkling with tiny stars, framed by palm trees and colorful banners. The smell of liquor, sweat, and body odor mingled with the scent of the warm evening air. Huge, bright speakers blasted music as the mass amount of bodies continued their movements, flashing their lights as they danced.

Mira was right. This wasn't your scene. You preferred the fancy lounge bars, expensive wine, soft spoken conversations and live jazz bands to accompany them. A place where you felt secure, safe, and comfortable. This place was raw, open, exposed. No fancy tables, chairs or bar. Just an open dance floor, large speakers, and drinks on the sand.

The bass hummed through your feet as it shook the ground. No one was fully dressed; the girls had on skimpy little dresses, the men wore brightly coloured swim trunks and shirtless. Heck, the air of arousal was so thick you could probably choke on it. You had seen several couples making out, feeling each other up or grinding their groins together out of the corner of your eyes. You licked your lips nervously as the alcohol coursed through your veins, heating you up from the inside.

"Come on Y/N! I love this song, let's dance!" Jinhee put her hands on her hips and pouted at you.

"Dancing is not really my thing..." you protested.

"It will be soon!" she winked and grabbed your arm.

You shrugged. There was nothing better to do, and you had finished your drink, feeling braver now that it was gone. You threw the last shot down the back of your throat, shuddering when the liquid burnt its way down your body and you accepted Jinhee's hand, pulling you close as you threaded through the crowd of warm bodies towards the floor. You tried not to bump into anyone, muttering small sorries to those you did.

The girls pushed onto the dance floor, joining the fray and all linking arms together, facing outward. You giggled with giddy pleasure as Sowon and Mira pulled you in between them, each placing a hand on your hip, making your senses sing with delight from the alcohol and the atmosphere. Your friends swung you around, moving you like puppets in a full costume, keeping perfect time to the music. You threw your hands up and laughed joyously, allowing them to take the lead as you simply kept up, moving your body against theirs.

You swayed your hips, letting loose and deciding to just feel.

Tonight, you're going to live a little.

And maybe find a cute guy and have some fun like your girls suggested, despite whatever happens afterwards.

Just enjoy the moment, they told you.

Alcohol flowing, the music blasting, and the lights blinding, time was simply lost to the ether and soon enough you could feel yourself being warm, happy, and buzzing. All nerves had melted away, drowned under the intoxication of the strong alcohol and being surrounded by friendly, loving people.

Time blurred and seemed to stop altogether when you caught the first sight of him.

Situated at the DJ booth with a set of mixer decks and a laptop at his disposal was a large, muscular man. Dark hair framing his beautifully sculpted face, his huge frame was decked in dark jeans and a gray muscle tank, effortlessly displaying his biceps, muscular chest, and torso. Tattoos adorned his left shoulder and arms, but you couldn't make them out as they were blurry from the angle. From the intense look of concentration, he sported a pair of large headphones over his ears while performing his set; however, every now and again you would catch him smiling from watching the sea of bodies bobbing their heads to his beats, bodies grinding as the songs melded together.

He caught your eye, taking in the spectacle that you and your friends presented. When he met your gaze, you felt electricity coursing through your veins, nerves flaring and the familiar pulsing sensation to the beat made itself known deep within your womb. And...was it just you, or did he look at you longer? Like he was admiring you as you got lost in his eyes; perhaps even took interest in you as you danced alongside the swarm of sweaty bodies that jerked and swayed to the music.

You snapped your head away. You were probably seeing things...

But you couldn't help it; your eyes drifted once more to the large hunk. Just dancing. Nothing else. Not with the way that his muscles moved smoothly when he tended to his equipment, the powerful biceps easily moving the tables. What would it be like to have his arms wrap around you, what would it be like to be pressed against those built pecs, those washboard abs, under his thick thighs as heー

You shivered at the thought. Alcohol. It had to be the alcohol.

"Oh my god," Mira started, "the DJ is so hot!"

"He's pretty cute and damn is he buff," Jinhee licked her lips. "With a body like that, the only chance I would give him is a ride up and down hisー"

"Finish that sentence, I dare you," Sowon raised an eyebrow daringly, a fierce grin creeping up her face and causing Jinhee to laugh nervously before she continued.

"What do you think, Y/N?" Mira looked at you eagerly, causing you to stare back surprised.

"Well..." You paused and hesitated slightly. "I mean, like, he is definitely very attractive, but..." Your cheeks burned and thoughts disappeared momentarily as your eyes locked with his, causing butterflies to awaken in your tummy. You looked away to see your group waiting expectantly for you to continue. You stuttered out, "But I don't know. He's probably already got a string of girls after him and I justー"

"Nope. Stop. Nuh-uh," Jinhee pointed a finger in front of you. "No second guessing. Tell us, would you fuck him?"

Your jaw dropped. "Oh come on."

"Answer the question, Y/N," Sowon pushed.

You chewed your bottom lip before sighing. "Oh god," you muttered, heart pounding in your chest. "Do I have to answer right now?"

"Yes!" all three chorused back at you.

You covered your face with your hands for a second before taking a deep breath. "Ok... yes." You looked down. "Yes, I would totally bang the shit out of him."

"YES! That's our girl!" Mira whooped before cheering loudly, raising her arms to the sky as she did so, the music and atmosphere causing her cheer to be swept away amongst the crowd. Sowon rolled her eyes as Jinhee patted you on the back in a show of congratulations, making you want to disappear. But you couldn't hide your crimson cheeks as embarrassment flushed through you.

The girls giggled happily and jumped around, continuing with their dancing. You hid your face in your hands before trying to lose yourself in the music once more.

Even though your gaze remained forward, you could still feel his eyes trailing on you.

Johnny looked out at the crowd moving and shifting as one when the beat dropped. All hands flew up, colored lights danced over everyone, making them glow under the spotlights that illuminated the darkened dance floor. It didn't matter if they were young or old, handsome or misshapen; the mass amount of bodies thrummed with pure energy. The crowd responded with another deafening cheer and cry in greeting as the beat switched over, Johnny mentally high-fiving himself for his excellent track selection.

While he enjoyed his job, the one thing he loved the most is seeing all the people have a good time because of his sets. And that moment, when the venue cheered and the dancers jumped up and down at their success in responding to the shift in the music, flooded his heart with pride.

Everyone was a dance master tonight, despite the drunken conditions. There weren't many fights and most seemed to be content with dancing the night away. And even the regular workers seemed to let their hair down and joined the fray, twirling to their hearts desire with wide, unabashed grins plastered across their faces.

It was the life.

"This set is so good!" The girl next to him gushed excitedly. "I'm absolutely loving it!"

He turned and smirked. Her hair was a long ash-blond, cascading down her shoulders. Heaps of glitter decorated her cheeks and forehead and skin-tight outfit that left little to the imagination. "Yeah?"

"Oh, for sure!" She spoke back, her attention focused more on his body than meeting his gaze. Her eyes dragged along the length of his body hungrily. "You should join me sometime."

He regarded her carefully. She was attractive, but frankly, it didn't feel right. "Tempting," he started. "But I can't."

"Pleaseeeee? I'd make sure you would have a great time," her lips curled into a lustful smile. "I would worship every single inch of you, baby. I would make you feel real good," she teased, pressing up against him.

He let out a sigh before looking at one of his friends that was working alongside him for the evening. They didn't need to speak a word. His buddy came to the rescue and steered the girl away from him towards the bar. The girl put up a bit of a struggle but once she noticed the handsome man beside her, her attention quickly switched and off she went.

He was used to it. Girls would throw themselves at him, not many cared about his skills and personality except for his music tastes, which usually sparked interesting conversations. Most only wanted a go with the big and muscular DJ who worked at the clubs, purely for sexual gain; to say they have done it, to slurp up the notoriety of bragging about their sexual exploits. Most usually bragged about who was better in bed, how quickly they could seduce him, or how big his dick was.

He shook his head with a sigh. He was a ladies' man, sure, but he was looking for more. One night stands were great, don't get him wrong, but he was looking for a lifelong love to spoil and cherish for eternity. To call his own, someone special to share his home, his music, his heart and soul.

He settled back behind the soundboard, adjusting the mix, scrolling through the folder of pre-downloaded songs while keeping an eye on the crowd. He couldn't help but glance at a particular group of girls as they joined the fray and a smile crept upon his features as they energetically turned away from each other and moved their hips to the music, finding a groove and sticking with it.

But one of the girls caught his eye, and he felt his dick twitch and pulse at the sight.

There was something about the girl that stood out.

She was really beautiful. He had seen his fair share of beautiful women, no doubt, but this girl was different. She wore her hair up in a bun, but it was messy, and several strands fell freely to frame her face. She dressed a bit more modest compared to the rest of the folks here with a flowy red spaghetti-strap sundress that drifted fluidly down past her knees. While her dress wasn't fully form-fitting, it still showed off the full curves of her breasts, wide hips and ample ass. Even from the distance of the stage, Johnny was able to pick up that the dress had ridden slightly up her thighs from all the swinging and twirling, exposing more of her smooth legs.

Even then, he was rather enticed by her actions alone.

While she wasn't outlandish or loud like the rest, it was beautiful to behold how freely she moved. Her friends draped all over her, but she greeted their affectionate advances wholeheartedly, enjoying their company. Time seemed to melt away for Johnny as he enjoyed the view; while one part of his mind was set on the next track and the transition, the other half was entranced and intrigued by this beauty.

"Yo, dude," Yuta cut into Johnny's thoughts and slapped him on the shoulder. "There's some hot chicks in the crowd tonight."

Johnny playfully punched his friend in the shoulder. "Yuta, they have names, bro."

"Whatever," Yuta shrugged as he turned his attention back to the crowd. "You know, the girl by the speakers and over to the left is... very nice. Just saying."

Johnny raised an eyebrow and scanned the crowd. It didn't take long to find the girl that Yuta was talking about; her flaming red hair tumbling down her back in thick curls. A striking blue strappy little top that barely covered her breasts.

"Nah dude, not my type," Johnny shrugged. "I prefer a girl with more substance." He tilted his head in the direction of the other dancers.

"The purple one?" Yuta asked.

"Red," Johnny replied as he began setting up another song.

"Oh... Oh!" Yuta looked at Johnny with a smug grin. "Now that's a pretty babe. Bam! Score one for Johnny."

"Yo, what the fuck," Doyoung butted in, "you have all the pretty ladies."

"Sorry, Mr. Sulky," Yuta stuck out his tongue. "Your dating game sucks."

Johnny laughed. "You just haven't met the one yet, Do."

"Probably never will," Doyoung grimaced and went back to his regular position, playing around with some of the lighting equipment.

Johnny smiled and shook his head at his friends' shenanigans. They were a bit immature and stupid at times, but he loved them like brothers. Out of the corner of his eye, he caught the glimpse of the girl once again and he couldn't help the butterflies that formed in the pit of his stomach.

She caught him looking, and for the split second their eyes locked, the whole world seemed to move in slow motion.

Beautiful. She looked beautiful in the warm glow, sweat glistening lightly on her forehead, face flushed from dancing. Despite her makeup being a little smudged and messy, he thought it was cute. It made her real and adorable and hot all the same. Despite being surrounded by a mass amount of bodies, she stood out like a glittering diamond.

And for a split second, everything was right in his world.

If someone would have told him a year ago that he would fall in love at first sight, he would have laughed in their faces. He would have called bullshit, there was no way.

Turning his back slightly, he chuckled inwardly to himself. Johnny never had had such a strong physical attraction to a woman like this before. Sure, he was aware he was blessed with his looks, especially due to the numbers of fans and groupies he had garnered after the past gigs he had performed over the years. Beautiful women of all sizes often sought him out and flirted with him. If there wasn't much going on that night, he would find his way into the bed of a soft warm body, just for the comfort that nothing more, nothing less, could offer.

He didn't allow himself to get attached, to care too much or get too emotional. It was just one night, one or two evenings at best; but usually the passion lasted a few hours or sometimes throughout the night.

Johnny knew his limits and made sure he stuck within them. No kissing on the lips or cuddling the next morning. Breakfast and goodbyes were always offered at his door and after it closed, that was the end of it. Somewhere along the line, a few girls had his number and still tried to see him, others showed up at gigs he played hoping to see him, but his rules were airtight: no relationships, no commitments, no feelings.

Was his life lonely at times? Sometimes, but that's how Johnny liked it. Life was simpler, less complicated without a lover in his life. He wouldn't have had to make any excuses on where he was, or worry about what might happen if he wasn't at home when he said he would be. In fact, it was one of the reasons why he liked being a DJ; the world was too vast, too interesting, for him to stay still. And there was no need to check in with anyone, see if it was ok to go or ask for permission.

But maybe he wanted a change of scenery, just a bit. He desired to rest his head on something or someone warm, to tell them everything that ran through his head, to hold hands, share meaningful conversations. To have someone listen to him, give him a slice of normal in his ever-changing life.

And the feeling was almost stronger now, nearly overwhelming, as he stared at the girl before him.

The way his heart melted and the blood drained from his head down to his erection when this new beauty's gaze landed on him, it was an unfamiliar feeling. For all the groupies and attention he had received, he had never felt so entranced by someone, had wanted them so deeply, and so desperately. He wanted to meet her in the crowd, take her in his arms, dance with her, talk with her, listen to her, fuck her senselessly until they both couldn't stand and worship her gently afterwards like a queen.

He wasn't sure what she was doing here but he could care less what her plans were, as long as they involved him.

Her group laughed as they danced freely, and he watched carefully, mesmerized. He wanted to hear her laugh, wanted to be the reason why she laughed. His attention remained glued to this strange but beautiful new girl he had seen. Her gaze was focused back on the crowd, her attention away from him. Instead of feeling relieved, his muscles became tense at not being able to have her gaze rest upon him. He wanted to be the object of her attention. No matter how many times Johnny tried to focus his attention elsewhere, his thoughts would wander right back to her.

"Damn dude, I have never seen you look at someone like that before," Yuta pointed out after a short while.

"What are you saying?" Johnny kept his hands steady on the equipment in front of him.

"Just... you know what? Nothing," Yuta held up his hands in surrender. "I'll keep my observations to myself."

Johnny eyed Yuta carefully. "I am focusing on the crowd."

"Oh come on now, that cute brunette came right up and so did the red-head and you weren't the least bit interested. Are we changing things up now that you've got your eye on Little Miss Red Dress down there?"

Johnny rolled his eyes at Yuta's assumptions. "Dude, no. She's just...different, that's all."

"Uh-huh. Different," Yuta replied slowly, looking Johnny over with a raised eyebrow. "You really want to throw away all your freedom, Johnny?"

Johnny just shrugged, returning his gaze back to the red beauty dancing her heart out.

Who knows? Maybe she'll be a one-night stand.

Maybe she'll be something more.

Johnny smiled to himself as he focused on the music, allowing his senses to get lost in the rhythm, to become as one with the sounds around him. He mentally wished the girl's attention was back on him; but glancing over in her direction, she was consumed in an excited frenzy with her friends. And that was ok.

Some things would come, and some things would go.

He was certain he would see her around the resort.

"My neck hurts, my feet hurt," you complained the next morning. "My entire body hurts."

You moaned as you stretched and a feeling of delicious electricity sang from your muscles, making its way slowly to your spine and you sighed, your tense neck muscles finally releasing their tension. You were walking down one of the many pavillons lined along the white pebbled pathways. Sunlight dappled through the leafy trees, casting its rays along the pavement. The sun had risen high in the sky, and the breeze was soft; a perfect temperature to be out and about. The girls and you had stayed out late the previous night and now your entire body ached.

You're trying your hardest to keep up with the girls and for the life of you, you have no idea how they still have the energy to enjoy themselves. How can three women run on so little sleep and be so effortlessly productive with themselves? You shook your head slowly and took a deep breath. You could get through this.

You looked around, trying to find the girls but instead you ran into rock hard muscle. You stumbled, nearly falling down, but an arm shot out to steady you, grasping your forearm gently.

"Shit. I'm sorry, I didn't see you there," a deep voice rang out in front of you. "You okay?"

You looked up and you realized that you bumped into the DJ from last night and your eyes almost bulged out of your skull, cheeks burning and jaw dropping before you could stop yourself. This close up, the man looked downright edible. He wore a sleeveless hoodie and loose fit jeans; although casual, it barely covered his muscular physique.

"Uh, y-yeah, I'm fine," you stuttered before managing a small, friendly smile. His hand released your arm and his face split into a charming grin, making your knees almost give in. "My mind is elsewhere," you admitted, looking down a little embarrassed, shifting your weight from one foot to the other and avoiding his intense gaze. "I kind of lost my friends."

"Want me to join you in finding them?" He offered, tilting his head a little as he studied you. The innocent question made you freeze, heart skipping a beat and butterflies suddenly awakened in your tummy and you gave him an embarrassed glance. Not taking offense, he stepped aside and gestured for you to go first. "After you. I'm Johnny, by the way. Johnny Suh."

"Y/N," you returned the sentiment with a broad smile. Together, you continued along the path, keeping up with each other in a comfortable silence. Every now and then, you stole glances at him, eyes drifting appreciatively to his tattooed skin. "So... This isn't usually my thing, to be honest," you offered casually, attempting at some conversation. You tried not to act awkward and focus on something else besides his toned arms.

"What isn't your thing?" Johnny glanced down and furrowed his brows questioningly.

"This place," you shrugged sheepishly.

"Sun, the beach, resorts, food and alcohol? You're lying," Johnny chuckled at his own comment, making you snort a laugh, eyes glistening and a happy grin graced his lips.

Oh my god, he's even more attractive, you thought. What was it about a good man with a sense of humour that just simply, utterly destroys you? You averted your gaze, not wanting to give yourself away, especially at how much you wanted to jump his bones.

"Ok, fine. Party-centric environments," you finally responded, deciding to joke. "Sowon, Jinhee and Mira are... into this kind of scene, and they sort of dragged me along."

"Well, aren't you lucky," Johnny nodded, turning to smile warmly at you. "Because if you weren't, I wouldn't be walking with such a beautiful woman right now."

"I bet you say that to all the girls," you try your best to snort in contempt, despite your stomach going crazy from his words.

"No, only the pretty ones," he chuckled, crossing his arms and giving you a sideways look.

You simply roll your eyes and shake your head, refusing to rise to the comment, and ignore the way your face warms. "Ok, so you're smooth with a sense of humour. Are you even real?"

A laugh rumbled through his chest, resonating through you. His laugh is clear and melodic, and completely honest. Unable to keep a straight face, you cracked a chuckle yourself. "So where are you from, Y/N? If you don't mind me asking."

"Chicago but I moved to Seoul for college and have been there ever since," you replied honestly.

"I'm from Chicago too!" He seemed genuinely excited. "I moved here a couple years back with a couple buddies. We got a pretty sweet set up going on. We often tour together, and we support each other," Johnny stopped suddenly, eyeing you up and down and making you want to sink into the ground. "How about you? What do you do?"

"I got a master's degree in business. But after a while, it all seems kinda... boring?" you shrugged. "I'm currently unemployed at the moment," you giggled at the absurdity of the conversation. "God, if my parents knew..."

"That's a bummer," Johnny said, wincing. "No one likes a desk-job."

"It was nice while it lasted," you let out a small laugh as you walked down the stone steps towards the town area. Just ahead, you could see Sowon and Mira at one of the smoothie bars chatting. "I have no idea what's going to happen, so I'm just living day by day."

"Why not live in the moment?" Johnny's low voice murmured into your ear, making you stiffen slightly, feeling a sudden flush of arousal between your legs. "Nothing bad comes from that."

"Uh... yeah," you smiled a little awkwardly as you were both nearing your destination. Your heart was beating wildly inside your chest. "So, where are you at in the hotel?"

"Not really at a hotel, actually. In the bungalows, right over there. Like, right by the beach," Johnny pointed in the general direction, but you nodded all the same. "Why do you ask?"

"No reason. Just curious," you stammered as you neared closer to your friends. You weren't sure what this fluttery feeling was, the strange warmth flooding through you, all because of him. Was it excitement? This... pull towards him? It's thrilling, you had to admit; the whole scenario was. Johnny was incredibly handsome, sexy even; especially the way the shirt clung to the toned muscles of his body, but despite his looks, he seemed really down-to-earth and nice as well.

And that was the charm that pulled you in.

You liked being around him, plain and simple. Even though you just met him, you felt a connection, almost as if you've known him for years. It was comfortable. And... dare you say, safe, almost? He is, however, still very much a stranger, you reminded yourself.

"Ok. Well, I guess this is where I leave you," Johnny looked at you, smirking a bit at the proximity the girls presented. "And hey, not sure if you heard but I'm DJ-ing again tonight at the party tent. You are, without a doubt, welcome to come and see me. Or meet me afterwards? Whichever you prefer." He stepped even closer and leaned in until he was practically whispering into your ear, making the tiny hairs on the back of your neck rise and your whole body flushes with electricity.

"Be a shame if I didn't see you there," he hummed and his warm, minty breath made you press your legs together tighter. It didn't help when he skimmed his fingers against your bare thigh as he withdrew. As he turned to leave, he waved goodbye and gave you a lop-sided, charming grin. You stared dumbstruck at him, still flushing, before forcing a natural smile and waving back a little, unsure and unsteady.

Your eyes remained rooted on Johnny until he was no longer visible amongst the crowd. Heart pounding against your ribcage, you turned and hastily found the girls.

"Um, hello, who was that sexy specimen you were walking with?" Mira made a flabbergasted, incredulous face, almost like she was being personally offended that you hadn't told her anything. You laughed and shook your head, smiling at their eagerness.

"That was the DJ from last night, right?" Jinhee asked, jumping up and down excitedly as her eyes sparkled mischievously. Sowon, ever vigilant and careful, rested her soft gaze on you and patiently waited for you to continue.

"Yeah, that was him," you replied, turning to Mira as you sat down next to her and ordered a round of smoothies for the table. "And yes, I bumped into him while looking for you guys. But, you know, a coincidence."

"One hell of a coincidence, considering he might be into you, Y/N," Mira emphasized her point, jabbing you on the shoulder.

"We were just talking," you rolled your eyes. "He said he's doing another set tonight and would love it if I came by to watch him."

"Of course he did," Sowon replied, arms crossed as she pondered for a second. "If you don't go, I will officially kick your ass."

"I swear..." you shook your head and buried your face into your hands, letting out a very heavy and annoyed sigh. "He could have just been really friendly. You can't possibly know his intentions."

"The DJ literally propositioned you. He's going to rock your shit tonight and god dammit you better let him," Jinhee ordered seriously. You shot daggers at Jinhee and shook your head disapprovingly, though giggling a little at her expression. The barista brought around the smoothies and you all eagerly grabbed your share. Jinhee immediately perked up at the sight and a light in her eyes lit up with excitement.

"Let's toast to Y/N. May you have a damn good fuck tonight," she winked at you playfully.

"Or... you know, to hopefully make a new friend? I like being friends first," you suggested, avoiding looking at anyone directly, secretly regretting your decision to tell them anything. Although flustered by Johnny, there was no denying you both clicked together so easily, but you decided to avoid any obvious physical attraction until you knew him a little better.

There was something familiar and easy-going about Johnny. You enjoyed being with him and wanting more felt exciting, intimate, and even scary. Never had you experienced a near-instantaneous connection with someone as you had with Johnny. And you wanted more of him, and more of his presence.

"Oh honey. I think his end-goal is to bury that pole so deep into you, you'd feel it in your toes," Mira punctuated the thought with a naughty smile. You blushed red and rubbed your hot face. The three women burst out in laughter and were unable to control themselves. You slowly melted into the ruckus; it was impossible not to join in.

Who was Johnny Suh, really? You'll soon find out, you promised yourself.

Johnny grinned as he pumped his fist to the beat, nodding his head in time as the crowd cheered and hollered as the music pounded through the speakers. Even in the tent, the atmosphere was loud, chaotic and primal and everyone was clearly having an amazing time.

His gaze landed on you for the upteenth time throughout the set. You were standing next to him with a group of other random girls since your friends clearly pushed you to do so. Dancing away, your face had gone a little flushed and you were laughing breathlessly; obviously a little tired, a tad bit tipsy, and totally happy. For most part of the night, you would casually meet his eyes and give him a warm smile whenever you noticed he was looking at you.

You were wearing another flowy sundress, this time yellow, and you looked nothing short of radiant. He hadn't been able to stop thinking about you since he saw you earlier that day and he found himself eagerly anticipating the moment you appeared. Of course, a few other girls had stepped up to the booth of their own accord, or by a friend's persuasion, but no one had turned him on as badly as you had. Their looks were attractive but the connection wasn't there. At least, not the same connection that he had with you.

Leaning towards your ear, he laughed at your deer-in-the-headlights look. "So, did your friends force you here?"

"Only a little," you shouted, unable to contain your smile.

"Lucky me, then," Johnny responded. "I'm glad you came by."

"Lucky me. I'm enjoying myself," you quickly grabbed a cup of tequila, sloppily pouring yourself a shot in the middle of all the noise, oblivious that Johnny's eyes wandered down your slender neck, and back to settle at the low dip of your dress, exposing enough cleavage.

"Glad I could make your night fun," he murmured teasingly.

"Please," you scoffed, giving him a playful smile, raising an eyebrow. "Don't get ahead of yourself."

Johnny grinned boyishly, then turned his attention to the massive crowd beneath him, bobbing his head and making sure the next selection of tracks were perfect. The next song kicked in and the sea of bodies below leapt in the air and swayed and shouted loudly. You stopped dancing and leaned back a little, watching him work diligently at his decks and you fought the urge to bite your lip.

Without glancing back, he tilted his head towards you. "Want a picture?"

"Shit. Sorry!" You let out a small snicker, blushing a bit. "You'll think I'm a total creep if I admit I'm staring at your hands."

He only grinned and shook his head, a very definite glint of appreciation evident in his eyes. Without another word, he kept working his magic, playing and sampling until your jaw literally fell. You noticed right away his entire energy changed the moment he started working. You really wanted to feel those hands on you, to explore your body, to guide you and show you what he could really do...

Damn, get your head out of the gutter.

After a few more songs, the thumping bass began to calm down a little, which in turn made the crowd respond slower. People danced at a slightly more-rested pace, making it a little easier for people who had been dancing the whole time to really appreciate the rest of the environment.

"Let's take a break!" Johnny grinned at you and gestured to the side area where no one was behind the curtain. "Come with me for a bit."

"What about your set?" You worriedly glanced over to the booth.

"My friend Yuta can hold the fort. He's excellent," Johnny offered his hand and you took it carefully, the warmth and hardness beneath his skin sending pleasant shivers up your arm. "Plus it's called 'taking a break' for a reason."

"Better enjoy it while I can," you responded playfully, although you couldn't hide the giddiness and the blush on your cheeks as he turned, guiding you away from the party atmosphere behind the privacy of the curtains and into a much quieter world. He led you away from the tent, and through the wooden decks, towards the empty beach. It was cooler as the temperature dropped, but somehow you weren't bothered.

The sound of the ocean against the quiet night was relaxing, calming.

"As much as I like my sets, sometimes a man needs to breathe," Johnny said quietly and sat down, patting the spot beside him as an invitation for you to join him. Sitting down, you pulled your knees to your chest.

"Tell me about it. I'm still not used to this party scene," you confessed. "It's not what I'm most comfortable with."

"Yet it doesn't seem to put you off," he offered as he looked around.

"Trying to live a bit on the wild side. Spice things up, you know? I've always been a very introverted person. Not the social type," you played with the pebbles beside you, idly pushing the white stones out of the way and scratching at the dry sand beneath.

"Spice it up for what?" Johnny's curiosity got the best of him. He shifted closer and bent his head down.

"I usually don't share these things with guys I just meet," you laughed. "But I've been moping over an ex, kinda just having existential breakdowns here and there, generally feeling alone in the world, so I thought...you know... now or never. Do shit while I'm here, right?"

"What a life philosophy," Johnny chuckled softly and smiled. "What happened between you two?"

"It just wasn't meant to be, I guess," you shrugged your shoulders as you hugged your knees a little tighter. "He cheated on me and pretty much made me look like a fucking fool, so that got me in the worst mental place imaginable. Took a lot of effort to get over the bullshit."

"People are assholes," Johnny agreed. "Is that why you travelled all the way out here, to forget it?"

You laughed ironically, looking up at the cloudless sky above. "Sort of. Definitely to get away. And, because my friends wanted an all-girls trip, and we did just that. There's no need to complain," you finished happily. Johnny's eyes lingered at the serene smile upon your lips and the wind swept a piece of hair from your shoulder, making him burn and want all the more for you.

The atmosphere was peaceful and it didn't take long for him to want to kiss you; you were beautiful in every sense of the word, and you were completely in your element, whether you were aware of it or not.

"Why do you travel the world, Johnny? Are you running away from something?" You looked down and at him, curious. It was Johnny's turn to laugh, and he averted his gaze, hiding his face a little.

"Always been like this. I was pretty wild, partied too much. Had a good ear for music, a natural talent," he scratched his cheek lightly. "Some people we went to school to better themselves and grew up and got normal jobs. I'm afraid I chose the reckless route. Good music makes a good party and a good party means a lot of money."

"You were a bit of a deviant," you teased.

"For a very, very long time," he nodded, turning to face you. He searched your gaze thoughtfully, pausing and seemingly pondering.

The air had become a little tense, and you could see a small furrow between his eyebrows, shifting ever so slightly at whatever emotion was going through him. You stayed silent as you shifted a little closer, resisting the urge to trace the details of his chiselled jaw and soft lips with your fingertips. His eyes flickered at the sudden closeness between you both.

"I don't think you're as bad as you claim, Johnny," you decided softly, lowering your gaze to your fidgeting fingers.

"You think so?" He murmured, barely above a whisper. "I've been thinking about settling down somewhere. Want to try and see how a normal life can work out, you know?"

"You? Settling down? What a funny thought," you chuckled teasingly, and was rewarded by his beautiful grin.

"Scary, isn't it?" Johnny laughed. "I like the tours and the parties, the music, but I'm not getting any younger. And... it can be lonely, you know? Sure, I have my friends but there are times when I crave a closer, stronger connection with someone. Someone that can listen to me, understand me and know all my thoughts, but not care because they still like me anyway, flaws and all," he admitted carefully, glancing at you for a brief moment, before his eyes drop back to your hands.

"Whoever dates you, will be an incredibly lucky person," you whispered earnestly, staring intently at him. You bit your lip shyly at the compliment. "It sounds... amazing. And fun. The person you're searching for is probably out there. Somewhere."

"I can only hope," his lips twisted into a gentle, warm smile. You felt Johnny's hand rest against your cheek, rubbing along your smooth, soft skin. Trembling, goosebumps littered your skin as his fingertips moved to tilt your chin up. His eyes darkened, pupils blown with desire as his thumb ran over your bottom lip, pulling it lightly down. Then he leaned forward, and his mouth captured yours.

Your eyelids fluttered closed and your hand rested against his muscled chest, feeling his steady heartbeat as his palm cupped your jaw. Warm and inviting, and soft, the press of Johnny's lips to your own became gentler before he withdrew carefully. Looking into your eyes, the lust and longing was evident in the shimmer of his own.

"Was that ok?" He asked, his rough voice tinged with raw restraint.

"Of course," you whispered, leaning in again and pulling him down by the hem of his shirt, placing another soft kiss on his delectable lips. Johnny didn't need any more encouragement. He drew himself in, clasping your waist and lifting you smoothly onto his lap, effectively positioning you on him. Surprised, you gasped at his brazen move. "Here? On the beach?"

Johnny grinned. "No one would find us unless they decided to take a midnight stroll. We can always stop," his large hands slowly moved to stroke your thighs. The touch burned into your flesh and made your head spin as his fingers dug into the smoothness of your skin.

Unsure, you didn't know how to reply; the thought of someone catching you didn't bother you at all, nor did the idea of it excite you. All you wanted was Johnny, Johnny, and more of his consuming heat and kisses. In an attempt to settle your growing nerves and butterflies, you lightly trailed your fingertips along his big arms, taking in the muscular beauty beneath the canvas of intricate and breathtaking tattoos.

You felt your courage rising and were growing increasingly aroused under his dark, half-lidded stare. There was no denying the effect his close proximity and smoldering gaze had on you. "What are we doing, Johnny? We just met," you whispered, the tension suddenly filling the space around you both.

"But our chemistry's off the charts," Johnny's gentle voice whispered into your ear and you shivered at the husky timbre, not bothering to hide the effect of his words. Leaning forward, he placed feather-light kisses along the column of your throat.

"You're only saying that because of what we're doing," you attempted to convince yourself. What was the rational decision at this moment? Your fingers were caressing his chiseled jaw, unable to stop, and unsure if you wanted to be stopped.

Johnny finally kissed you, slow and sweet, and your hand clutched the material of his shirt as you eagerly replied. Rough palms cupped your ass and squeezed your curves, grinding his hips against yours and you moaned into his mouth, pleasure pooling deep inside as an ache began to throb between your legs. His mouth left yours to slowly trace a path down to your collarbone, deliberately leaving light love bites, making you whimper and push your chest against his hot mouth.

"Just say stop, and I'll stop," Johnny pulled back to search your glazed eyes, seeing nothing but lust reflected there. "But fuck me, I hope you don't," he breathed softly.

"Johnny," you gasped softly, relishing in the way he kissed you so passionately, his hard and toned body melting against your softer, curvier frame. Gazing deeply into the caramel depths of his eyes, your head was swimming and your heart was fluttering. Kissing Johnny, and kissing him harder, you decided you weren't stopping.

Not now.

Not anymore.

"I've wanted to do this ever since I laid eyes on you," Johnny groaned as he gently pushed the hem of your dress up until the lacy edges of your black underwear were on show. He ran his fingers along the seams and he teased you by rolling and palming a thumb against the wet silk covering your clit. The friction made you moan wantonly, bucking into his waiting hand.

"Me too," you admitted breathlessly as his fingers slipped past the lacy fabric. "I wanted you from the second I saw you." You couldn't stop the words tumbling out, high off the way his thick fingers worked between the slippery folds. He found your clit and drew small, light circles until you were gasping and squirming.

"Then stay with me," Johnny moaned, gripping your jaw tightly with his other free hand.

"Like, right here?" You managed a laugh, gyrating your hips onto his fingers and crying out, reveling at how fantastic he felt as he continued to send soft tingles up and down your spine.

Johnny chuckled, placing soft, open-mouthed kisses along the sensitive patch of skin near your throat. Suddenly, you felt his thick fingers dip inside of you and the fullness made you buckle. Pressing your forehead against his shoulder, you breathed a few shaking breaths, barely registering the cool night air as he pumped into you languidly.

"Damn, why not," Johnny groaned, drawing back and grinning. You whined at the lack of his warmth and you were left wanting more. You buried your face into his neck, embarrassed at the display, kissing and licking his heated skin until a low hiss escaped through his teeth. In response, his pace increased as he found an extremely pleasurable spot.

Then, without warning, he withdrew and he lowered his hand and unbuckled his trousers, causing you to hold your breath. He pulled his zipper down and his boxers, releasing his thick, heavy cock, long and bobbing. You couldn't help but watch in lust and awe. Even as you glanced back up to him, you saw his gaze darkened and a sly, naughty smile dancing along his lips.

"Don't look so surprised," he spoke carefully, his hands gripping your waist firmly and moving you up into a better position. You obeyed without thinking, guided by his soft touches and gentle grip. Slipping your panties to the side, you steadied his length beneath you and easily sank yourself, moaning with pleasure and feeling almost high as he entered, stretching and filling you to the brim. The thickness alone sent shivers of delight coursing through your veins. You love the feeling of being filled by him. You couldn't remember the last time you felt so full. "I can make you feel so damn good."

"Oh god," was all you were able to gasp out, tilting your head back in wonderment. Johnny left one hand at the base of your spine to support you and bring you up and down as you rode him, ensuring your hips never lost pace, while the other rested against the back of your scalp, fingers burying into the silky strands of your hair as he tipped your head forward.

It was a slow yet intoxicating kiss, his tongue exploring every inch of your mouth. He let out a moan as your fingers delved into his hair, pulling tightly as his mouth moved to trace a soft line of butterfly kisses down your jaw and neck. You knew the power behind that kiss wasn't just the feeling of want, need and desire and it was the silent promise, a want for you and you alone.

In that moment, it felt like nothing in the entire world mattered except for this.

"You're driving me crazy," you let out. Never had you felt this passionate attraction towards someone, and you found the sensations overwhelming. Yet, rather than pull away, you yearned to have this and experience all of him.

"It's mutual," Johnny moaned against the flushed skin of your neck. And before you knew it, you let out an appreciative sigh as his hot tongue glided along the column of your throat, trailing down the front, teasingly across the top of your breasts and drawing patterns as his hand explored the soft mounds beneath.

"Don't stop," you panted as he thrust up into you harder, the friction, heat and passion mounting. His touch alone was enough to stimulate your senses beyond repair; you just couldn't fathom that someone could set your whole body on fire by simply touching, caressing and kissing you everywhere.

"I won't," Johnny replied, the arousal and desire clear as day across his striking features, pulling back his head to marvel at the way your body moved perfectly against his, the way you clenched around his cock and gripped his shoulder.

You grasped onto his broad shoulders and let yourself fall deeper into ecstasy as you both moved in unison. Johnny shifted slightly and his tip brushed against that wondrous sweet spot. The sudden contact forced a loud, shameless moan that escaped your lips, and you both chuckled and shared a gaze that spoke more than a thousand words.

Johnny's arms supported you as you shuddered and clenched around his hard member, finding the angle where you needed it most. Bouncing harder, faster, and leaning onto him, your hair grazed the side of his forehead as you both breathed heavily, sharing moans, gasps, and blissful sighs as you chased your high.

"Johnny... fuck..." you moaned, shutting your eyes tightly and breathing deeply.

"Be a good girl and cum for me," Johnny urged, and the need and desperation was clear in his voice as he moved one hand to stroke your sensitive, swollen clit. Your insides tensed and coiled, and your nails dug deeply into the warm, bare skin of his muscular arms. Reaching your peak, you moaned his name over and over like a broken mantra and seeing you come undone, Johnny let go as well and released a broken groan of pleasure, and with one final thrust, he emptied himself within.

Breathless, you rested your head on his shoulder. Both sweaty and trembling, Johnny allowed a grin to grow on his face. Before you could find a reply, he pulled you into another intimate, tender and gentle kiss. "We have all night, you know."

"What about your set? Shouldn't we go back soon?" You asked as you suddenly came back to earth, giggling slightly.

"They'll be fine. Yuta knows what he's doing," He smirked cheekily and slowly pulled out. Pulling your panties back in place, you smoothed your dress down and shifted off of his lap, sitting properly beside him. Johnny tucked himself back into his boxers and stood up with a smug, satisfied smile, grasping your hand and pulling you up. "Let's have tonight and not worry about tomorrow."

You bit your lip and nodded, allowing him to guide you to his bungalow and take you for a second round. And a third.

The following months had gone by quickly and you still couldn't get over the fling that happened between you and that irresistible DJ.

Sure it was just one night but the memory of the intimacy, the passion and the desire were still fresh in your mind. You thought often about that hot encounter as you still hadn't quite forgotten the night on the beach. It was still vivid and there would sometimes be moments when you would catch yourself daydreaming, mentally reliving the way his fingers and lips touched you, especially on quiet nights at the cafe with friends or during slow hours when business was dead.

Smiling as you relived the precious vacation with your friends, you flipped through the countless photos on your camera, laughing and sobbing, then giggling and feeling dumb. It had been half a year since you last saw Johnny, and it would probably be an entire year before you'd see him again. After all, he travelled the world all the time, bouncing from one stage to the next.

As soon as you returned to Seoul, reality settled. Life moved on, and it was business as usual. While it was fun, and an absolute dream to have had such an incredible and wild fling with a guy so hot and passionate, life changed after the memories faded into what really mattered.

You managed to find another job at an office, this time as a higher level administrative assistant, although that came with more responsibilities and deadlines and working longer hours than ever before. After all, bills didn't pay themselves and you would definitely need to splurge now that you were suddenly single again.

It was mid-afternoon when you settled into the seat next to Mira, chattering excitedly as she talked about a new club opening downtown. "Are you free tonight?" She asked hopefully, stirring her iced coffee.

"Maybe. I have loads of work," you frowned.

"Come on, doll. You and work. It's like you're an old married couple," Mira complained and sighed, seeing the deep frown on your face.

"I hate being an adult sometimes," you frowned, Sowon patting your back.

"Only sometimes?" Sowon joked dryly.

"Most of the time," you grinned.

Jinhee pouted. "Will you please come with us? It will do you good to get out more. Do we have to drag you out again?"

"It's not good for the mind," Mira added wisely.

"I know. It's so boring and…" you started saying, until a dark shape passed the window. A large moving truck, boxes, and moving men. Some furniture. Looking outside, you noticed a man standing near the truck holding one end of a couch while another helper struggled with the other end. It didn't escape you that the man appeared huge in a way that made your breath hitch, and that familiar head of silky black hair.

He wore a deep blue silk shirt with a chunky white printed collar that didn't hide his golden skin, even from afar. The muscular frame of a well-built body underneath was easy to identify too, and somehow all those hot memories rushed back.

"Oh god," you muttered.

"Y/N? Y/N? Are you in there?" Jinhee chuckled. "Is everything alright? What are you staring at?"

"Oh my god!" You cried out, getting up from your seat and moving towards the cafe doors. Ignoring your confused friends' puzzled looks, you pushed open the doors and dashed out.

A lot of questions buzzed through your head, but the urgency to run and approach him was greater than anything else. Would it be bad if you ran right up to him and smothered him with kisses? Probably. Would it be bad if he rejected you? Definitely. And... would he even remember you?

"Hey," a gruff voice said softly from behind.

You jumped, letting out a surprised yelp as you whipped your head around. Upon seeing his face close up again, you were instantly hit by a sudden wave of hot memories. Heat made its way up to your face and you blushed from embarrassment.

How could anyone forget that face? It had been six months, but you would recognize it anywhere. Those beautiful, brown eyes gazing at you, tender and hopeful. That full mouth, making all sorts of naughty promises. And his thick locks, disheveled and sexy.

How did he look as perfect as that one night you met him? You had no idea. Maybe everything was just a dream. It was definitely too good to be true. But here, seeing him again... somehow everything felt right, like the gears had clicked into place. His simple presence eased the loneliness in your heart, and it only made you long for him more than ever.

"Hi," you replied weakly, suddenly aware of your fast heartbeat.

Johnny grinned widely, walking closer to you as he dug his hands into the pockets of his jacket. "What's wrong? It's like you've seen a ghost."

"Oh. Just wondering if I would run away. Or hug you. Either one," you managed to grin, blushing harder. The smell of him and the way his scent lingered around you felt comfortable and nostalgic. The warmth was a familiarity that you had no idea you craved again until it happened, and you wanted to fall headfirst back into it.

"Well, are you going to do either one? I wouldn't mind the second," there was a glint of mischief in his eyes.

"Hmm..."

Johnny couldn't help but laugh as he stepped forward again, approaching your still form. Then, he wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you close to him and hugging you.

"Yeah, this feels more like it," Johnny's voice vibrated through him, his touch alone bringing up overwhelming, vivid flashbacks. It was almost as if time had stopped in that small space, and everything blurred out of focus and only your mind processed his scent, his warmth, and his embrace. "Miss me?"

You clutched his shirt tightly and leaned your cheek against the hard muscles beneath, giggling madly at the sudden flurry of happiness enveloping you. "I can't believe you're here."

"Surprise," he laughed.

"I had no idea you were moving out here. Since when did you put down roots? With... neighbors and paying taxes and everything? I didn't think it was your style," you said curiously, pulling back to admire him up close.

"It's definitely not," Johnny snorted. "But I told you I moved around too much and thought the constant living out of a suitcase was finally getting to me."

"Is that so?" you said.

Johnny tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. "Well, I had to put down the roots somewhere."

"And that led you here," you breathed. "Are you close?"

Johnny looked up at the building behind him. "Just moved into the building right here. Third floor, 18C."

"Really? I live on the sixth floor. Apartment 23B" your heart skipped a beat.

"Damn, that's close too," he mused.

"Very," you let out a small laugh. "The odds..."

"Life can be amusing," Johnny chuckled, his big hand closing around yours. "After meeting you, I got to thinking about priorities. Wondered what the future looked like. Then, I thought about you. Maybe being just a bit self-indulgent can't be that bad, huh?"

"Nope. It definitely isn't," you giggled, gripping his hand tightly. Gazing up into the pool of rich, dark caramel, a warm fuzzy sensation pooled deep inside your stomach.

"Your friends are staring," Johnny whispered in your ear, making your knees weak.

Looking over his shoulder, you saw the three women watching your exchange. They averted their gaze quickly and all of them suddenly had a keen interest in their coffee. Your entire face warmed in a crimson blush and you hid your face against his chest again, smelling that wonderful musk and spice coming off him.

"Let's give them a show," he laughed, dipping his head down to kiss you, ignoring your small protests, holding you tightly as you giggled against his lips.

"What are we doing?" you murmured against his lips, kissing him back. "Are we really doing this again?"

"Something like that," Johnny grinned back. "But this time, with more nights and mornings."

"And everything else in between?" You added jokingly.

Johnny shrugged and pretended to frown. "Unfortunately."

"Good. You wouldn't want to get rid of me now, would you?" You teased, draping your arms around his neck.

The grin returned. "Hell no. One night was never enough."

There was no response or argument, no hesitation. He had shown up back into your life, having been hundreds and thousands of miles away, and it didn't seem at all far-fetched now as he stood here with his arms wrapped firmly around you.

It may have seemed sudden, or fast, or simply just impulsive and reckless, but it didn't feel wrong, and at least for this moment, nothing was going to change the fact that it felt very, very right. A rush of happiness engulfed you and your heart was lighter than it ever had been in a very long time.

And this, this, was undeniably where you wanted to be.

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softsunnyy · 2 months ago

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Kinnie with the Canucks ! ♡

you're filming a silly trend, a "mini-blog" of your son going to a Canucks game to watch his dad play. But seeing him so happy makes you think, and all you can focus on is him.

i started writing this a while ago and just remembered i never finished it, so here it is. Btw, the nickname is a short way of saying "pumpkin", bc i love that nickname and i already thought of a whole reason behind it. Also, i was inspired by this and this video + i was listening to "Love Story" while finishing it

i can make this a series if y´all want.

from the moment your little one got mic'd up, he started babbling and trying to narrate as best he could. And to make him feel more comfortable, they asked you to be the one recording him. So the boy constantly looks at you, talking about how excited he is to see his dad play.

now, this isn't strange or new to him; in fact, it's quite common. But it's always a new experience, and you know that Quinn's little copy idolizes him more than anything in this world, and he experiences every game as if it were Game 7 of the Stanley Cup Final.

you unconsciously smile at how easily he talks about the place, showing the spectators around, the outside of the locker room, everything, and then makes his way to his special seat, near the glass, where he can watch the game up close.

“dad’s coming out any minute, we’ll see if i can get a puck,” he said, mouthing the words in a funny way, his cheeks flushed, his smile exactly like Quinn’s. Behind the camera, your heart melts once again, knowing your husband would give him every puck and every stick in the game if his little one asked.

you hear him talk, but all you can look at is him. His hair, his cheeks, his smile. His sweet chuckle, and the way he moves his head when he talks. The way now his big and bright eyes focus on the rink instead of the camera.

you used to jokingly comment about how you spent months carrying him for him to end up being an exact copy of Quinn. But it’s true. And he’s more than happy and proud to look just like him.

when your little one first became interested in hockey, you should have seen it coming. Of course he wants to play defense. Of course he wants to be the best.

he’s fast, he’s very agile. And everyone knows what he wants.

“i wanna play like dad when i grow up. He’s so cool,” he smiled. And at that moment, the players came out for warmups. Your little boy sat on the edge of his seat, more attentive than ever, and Quinn was quick to find you, quickly going to the glass, hitting it with his stick, smiling when his son laughed, tapping the glass with one of his little hands.

Quinn didn’t even have to hear the question; he immediately went to get a puck, tossing it over the glass, and you had to be careful, catching it and passing it to your son, trying to capture the moment without moving the camera too much.

you hear a few people around you making “aww” sounds, watching the moment when mini Hughes smiles, his face lighting up even more.

he’s like a little fan, even though he sees his dad almost every day, and when Quinn is away, they spend hours talking on facetime, no matter how tired both are.

and no matter how much time passes, you know he'll still be this obsessed.

as the game progresses, he starts yapping and just talking, talking about how good his dad is, how he's the star of the team, and how much he loves his uncles, Quinn's friends. You smile, listening and trying to pay attention to the plays. You know it was originally meant to be a mini-blog, something they could post on tiktok for the Canucks' account, but you can't tell him to stop, or just cut the recording. Not when he's talking so happily, so excitedly, melting your heart. You know this should be seen, that everyone should get this dose of cuteness, even if it's a thousand-hour video.

and when it's Quinn who scores a goal? oh god, he screams and jumps, and you're sure he's the loudest. The people around congratulate him, knowing who he is, and making his smile even bigger, to the point where his cheeks cramp and his eyes are barely visible.

your heart aches; you wanna see him this happy forever, because it's all he deserves. And you love that it's Quinn who brings all of that to him, because it happens to you too. From the moment you met him, he's always been the first to make you smile, to be there for you every moment, to make you feel safe and increasingly confident. Quinn has always been your sunshine, and it feels right that he also is for your son, the fruit of your intense love for each other.

after the game, you walk behind him, who takes short, quick steps, trying to reach the locker room and see his dad. As the others leave, they pat him on the head, then wave to you and the camera. Happy with this victory.

when Quinn comes out of the locker room, he barely manages to bend down, reaching his son's level just as he throws himself into his arms. You see them laugh, do a little spin, and you know that all of that can be heard in the video through the microphone. Joy and love, in their purest and most beautiful state.

“hi, Kinnie,” your husband laughed, saying one of his son’s many nicknames, securing him in his arms before walking over to you, giving you a small peck. “Hi.”

“hi, dad,” your son replied. Then Quinn noticed the camera, and you paused for a moment to explain, watching him nod before looking down at his tiny copy. “Did you enjoy the game? i think mom recorded you yapping.”

“i was paying attention! i was just telling ´hem about the game,” he tried to defend himself, slightly blushing. “Mommy wasn’t even paying attention,” he said this time, making you both laugh.

when the video was posted, everyone was asking for the extended version, knowing that the video had been edited to fit on tiktok, so soon everyone could enjoy the full version on youtube as well.

thousands of comments talking about how mini Hughes inherited his dad's yapping, or how similar they are, and how loved he is.

and even though you try not to expose him too much on social media, videos of him in his little-games sometimes go viral, because of the way he skates, perfecting skills that many kids his age can't do yet; or videos of him "training" in the summer with his dad, his uncles, and his grandparents, in a family full of success, talent, and love.

everyone knows that little Hughes is the most loved, and that his future is bright, surrounded by people who will help him become a star. They even talk about how he'll be better than Quinn.

and you love it, you love knowing that he´s loved, that he's supported. You love knowing that you chose the perfect man, and that he gave you the ideal family. Because the bad days don't matter when the day ends and you all cuddle on the couch again. Because the good days will remain in your memories for years.

because no one will love you both the way Quinn does, and no one will love him the way you two love him.

and the internet is here to see that.

#☀️💞#softsunnyy #quinn hughes #dad!quinn #quinn hughes x you #quinn hughes imagine #quinn hughes one shot #quinn hughes x reader #quinn hughes x y/n #quinn hughes fic #quinn hughes fluff #quinn hughes fanfiction #quinn hughes blurb #qh43 x reader #qh43

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megalony · 8 days ago

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Bound By Blood- Part 2

Thank you all for the lovely feedback on the first part of this new Evan Buckley series, I hope you will all like this next part.

Please let me know what you think.

Taglist: @justagirlthatlovedtoread @musicistheway @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 @luula @missdreamofendless @bradleybeachbabe @angryknightstatesmantrash @minjix @lyje @kmc1989 @itsmytimetoodream @noonenuts @hiireadstuff @ashie-babie @jayyeahthatsme @sp1ritssz @dumb-fawkin-bitch @oliverstarksbae @gimatida @heart-35 @chrisevansdaughter @alexandra848484 @deena-beena-weena @targaryenluvs @kpoplover-19 @marvelmenarebeautiful @gillybear17

@zoeybennett @mrspeacem1nusone @zephyrmonkey @estella-novella @eleventhdoctorsangel @kniselle @senjoritanana @shauna-carsley @dottierose @cfdhouse51 @darkfemme1 @rainechase45 @lolalolsstuff @jupiter1700 @ashdoctor @an-aliens-ghost @lunaroserites @houseoftwistedspirits @callsignwidow @winterreader-nowwriter @reneinii @bellsbomb @western-pyro @itsgigikay @harry-satellite @midsummereve1993 @babyqueen17 @buckyyyismahhlife @sammiejane22 @mrsyixingunicorn10 @op-81-lvr-reblogs @talicat713 @niamhmbt @strawberry-canyon @bieberhoodforever @911fangirlie @hollandxxmix @jasmineee05 @creat1venat1onn @devilslittlehelper @darlingcharling-blog @bear8585 @nickie-amore @elliott-calls @person-005 @mbioooo0000 @amara-mars @shypy92 @nikfigueiredo @sabsthedoll @rach2602 @itshamleth @ladespedidas

911 taglist: @teenwolfbitches28 @mandmilovehim @jooniesbears-blog @riywasu @amy2265 @buckandeddiesverison @forestsandgrimoires @peteparkersbug @btskzfav

Evan Buckley Masterlist

Part 1

Summary: (Y/n) and Evan met in a support group, bonding over shared trauma. And now, they're going to have a baby together. But it isn't so easy when (Y/n)'s family is complicated and they put far too much pressure on her.

Enjoy.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

She was going to be sick. She knew it.

(Y/n) pressed the back of her hand against her mouth and closed her eyes, willing herself not to throw up in the car. Although she knew if she did, it would be the perfect excuse to get Evan to turn the car around and take her home.

Her fingers twitched as she pressed her hand firmer against her mouth until her lips were meshing against her teeth so much so that they were almost bleeding. It helped her straighten her head and try to keep her breakfast in her stomach where nature intended, rather than the footwell of Evan's jeep.

She decided to press her temple against the cold glass of the window on her right and her feet tapped and jittered against the floor.

She didn't want to be here. She wanted to be back at the apartment, safe and sound and tucked up watching a film with Evan. (Y/n) didn't want to be going out to visit her parents. This was the last thing she wanted to do, it was exactly what she wanted to avoid. But she couldn't.

As much as she wanted to, (Y/n) couldn't avoid her family forever. It had been two days since her dad called her in the middle of the night, asking her to come down to see Adam at hospital.

She had successfully avoided each and every phone call her parents made, and gave short, curt responses to the dozens of texts she'd received. Asking her why she wasn't calling, why she wouldn't come down to the hospital. Why she hadn't yet made arrangements for a bone marrow transplant which they clearly thought she owed Adam. Just like every other donation in her life.

"Evan I- I don't wanna do this." The words barely made it past (Y/n)'s lips as her stomach tensed and churned and her shoulders began to quake.

She almost jumped in her seat when she felt Evan's hand on her thigh and his fingers began to dance across her skin, roaming her inner thigh as he turned to glance over at her. Pain and sympathy flooded his pupils and his lips formed a pout.

He wished there was something he could to do make this easier for (Y/n), but he couldn't go and talk to her parents on his own. She had to be with him, even if she didn't want to.

And they couldn't prolong this or drag it out. That wasn't an option. Her parents were already hounding her about Adam and helping him, so she and Evan had to explain why that wasn't going to be an option for the next few months.

"I know sweetheart, but we have to tell them." He gave her thigh a light squeeze and glanced across at her again before he had to divert his eyes back to the road.

(Y/n) knew they didn't have a choice. She knew her parents had to find out now or else things would only get worse from here on out. But it was the part of telling them that she couldn't stand. Because she knew how they would respond and how they would act once they knew.

It would be as if the world had ended and (Y/n) had betrayed her family and all that they stood for. They would make this a life or death situation. (Y/n) would be a cruel, heartless person in the eyes of her family, even if that wasn't the case.

(Y/n) could feel tears welling up in her eyes when Evan pulled up outside her parent's home.

Had they arrived already? How had they been in the car long enough to arrive here? Surely they had a bit more time for (Y/n) to try and calm herself down and prepare for this?

All night hadn't been long enough for (Y/n) to prepare and go over this conversation in her head. She tried. She tried to think of every possible answer they might say and every rebuttal she could give, but it didn't calm her down or make her feel prepared at all.

"I wanna go home."

(Y/n) didn't realise she had said that outloud until Evan took off his belt and leaned over the console so he was closer to her. She could see the sorrow building up in his eyes and the way his lips pressed together in a thin line to try and stop from frowning and giving away how upset this was making him too.

He hated to see (Y/n) so panicked, especially when this was her own family and they were supposed to be giving them good news.

"Baby, I promise as soon as we've told them, we can go. We don't have to stay long, but if we don't tell them now they're gonna wonder why you're not at the hospital. There isn't much choice right now."

Evan couldn't see any other way around this. If (Y/n) didn't tell her parents they would be calling incessantly or turning up at the apartment demanding to know why she wasn't donating to her brother. And this wasn't something that (Y/n) could tell them over text message because they would undoubtedly ring her to confirm and badger her about this news.

If her parents lost their tempers or started to become rude, Evan would bring (Y/n) straight home. They would leave immediately. And Evan was going to be by her side, he wasn't simply dropping her off and leaving. This was their baby, their news to give and he would support (Y/n) through this because they both knew her parents weren't going to be as happy and thrilled as they should be.

(Y/n) leant her head into Evan's touch when his hand cupped the side of her face, and she did her best to ward off tears.

She could taste the cherry lip balm Evan always used when he kissed her and his warm lips were soothing and stopped her from breathing too shallow and slipping into a panic attack.

The feeling of his thumb gliding across her cheek was comforting and when they parted, (Y/n) nudged her nose against his and reached out to hold his wrist, as if ensuring he didn't remove his touch from her.

"Come on, the sooner we do this, the sooner we can leave."

Evan's words were encouraging, but (Y/n) still didn't feel any better about this. Her teeth sank down into her lower lip and once she stepped down from the jeep, she felt like she was going to swoon.

Her hand began to scratch along the back of her neck, an old nervous habit that stopped the moment Evan stood by her side and looped his arm around her shoulders to get her to relent. His hand feathered up and down her shoulder and his lips attached to the side of her head as he stood as close to her as he could get.

Both (Y/n)'s hands started to fiddle and ring out in front of her as they walked up the path that led to her parent's front door.

Her old home. The place (Y/n) had been so desperate to escape. The home that she left behind when she was eighteen and desperate for a sense of freedom she'd never felt before. Although moving out hadn't done anything to stop (Y/n) from being needed and used by her family, despite not being under the same roof as them anymore.

(Y/n) didn't knock on the door, despite this not being her home for some time now, she still had a key and she knew she could always come in.

"Mum? We're here," It was hard to steel her voice and make herself sound normal and at ease when every nerve within her was tangled and frazzled and ready to burn out.

She reached behind her the moment Evan's arm slipped from her shoulders and she deadlocked their fingers together, holding his arm close to her side as if to ensure he wasn't going to back away and leave her here alone.

When she rang her parents yesterday, she asked if she and Evan could come round for a drink and a chat, and that they could talk about Adam. She didn't say she had news to tell them because she didn't want them guessing or thinking the worst or having time to prepare an argument. She knew this wasn't going to be an easy conversation whether it was sugar coated or not.

Not like when they would be able to tell Maddie and the team. (Y/n) knew Evan was ecstatic and excited to tell them. He wanted to tell Maddie first, seeing how she had raised him. Then he wanted to tell Bobby and Athena, who had become surrogate parents to him. He wanted to tell the team too, Evan wanted everyone in his close knit circle to know, and then he would think about telling his own parents.

He knew they would try to be happy, they would smile and say this was such a good thing and that he would be a good dad. But it wouldn't be the same as when Maddie and Chimney had Jee. They would never be as happy for Evan as they had been for Maddie, and that was okay. As long as the team were excited and accepting, Evan didn't have any expectations from his parents and their reactions wouldn't bother him either way.

A soft "In here," called through and (Y/n) guided Evan towards the living room where her mother's voice sounded from.

Evan had met her parents before, but not for long. She had brought him round for dinner once, and they'd met for a coffee another time and Evan had met Adam.

But (Y/n) knew her parents hadn't known what to say or what to think when they found out where (Y/n) and Evan met. They seemed to think that Evan would be a bad influence on (Y/n), that he would push her away from donating to her brother.

And in a way, they were right, but that didn't make Evan a bad influence. Helping (Y/n) stand up for herself and say no and have her own choice was a good thing, even if it upset her family. But they had to learn they couldn't control her for the rest of her life.

That was a lesson they were going to learn within the next hour.

(Y/n) tried her best to force a smile once they walked into the living room and she guided Evan along with her towards the sofa. She almost felt bad when she sat as close to Evan as possible, like she was squishing him or being too clingy. But she calmed down when she felt his hand on her thigh and his lips against the side of her head.

He wanted her as close as possible, it let him stay calm too and allowed him to keep an eye on (Y/n) and know when she was starting to panic and when she was okay.

"Do you both want a drink?"

(Y/n) nodded, although her mum was already smiling and disappearing out the room to make a round of coffee for them all.

She looked across at where her dad was sitting, he was in his usual armchair with a puzzle book beside him and one leg crossed over the other. He smiled across at them, resting his cheek against his hand.

"You both okay? You didn't sound too good on the phone yesterday."

"Yeah, yeah I was tired. Evan's been working nights this week." (Y/n) looked up at Evan and the look in her eyes was as if she wanted saving. But the calming smile she was faced with settled one of the many butterflies coming to life in her stomach and when he squeezed her leg she shivered.

"Rough shifts?"

"No actually, a lot of panicked mishaps than catastrophes or fires. The nights were almost easier than the days."

Work hadn't been too bad this week. Evan never considered his job bad, but he did consider it hard. The nights had been easy compared to what he was used to. It was easy calls, people who seemed to be hypochondriacs and fretted over the wrong things, no one dying on their shift or attacking loved ones or harming those around them. They didn't feel like they were walking into fire these last few shifts.

Evan leant in towards (Y/n) a little more, but he felt rather calm at the moment, considering how Carl was smiling towards him and nodding almost approvingly.

He knew that (Y/n)'s parents weren't happy about the way they met, through a support group that would help (Y/n) find her own way in the world and help her to stop feeling like she had to give every part of herself to Adam. He knew they didn't like how Evan empowered (Y/n) and tried to give her freedom. But at least he earned their respect with his job and his calm demanour and how he was always calm around them and tried to diffuse any arguments that arose.

"That's good, I know (Y/n) worries when you do nights." Carl nodded his head towards (Y/n) who was sure her skin was radiating enough heat to battle the sun by now.

And shivers of enticement were coursing up and down her spine when Evan's lips hovered over her ear where he pressed a few soft kisses and murmured "Oh you do?" in her ear.

"Here we are."

(Y/n) watched her mum bring a tray of drinks through and set them down on the coffee table. And she gladly accepted the cup she was offered, feeling a small spark of hope in her chest when she realised her mum had given her a caramel latte, something (Y/n) was partial to.

It wasn't often that (Y/n) felt normal around her family. She always felt like she was walking on egg shells or blending in with the shadows. She felt like everyone was always waiting for Adam to go into remission, and when he did, they started to wait for the day he would get worse again.

Her life revolved around Adam, all of theirs did. There weren't many times when (Y/n) could sit with her parents and talk and feel like they were a true family. Like her parents truly loved and appreciated her, and seeing that her mum took the time to make her a drink she preferred made (Y/n) wonder if this situation might just work out the way she longed for it to.

Evan took the cup he was offered, giving a quick "Thank you," before he brought the drink to his lips. Everyone was always shocked when he could drink coffee scolding hot right from the kettle or if he was desperate or in a rush he would drink black coffee if it was easier. Anything to get his caffene fix.

He held back his cringe and forced himself to smile instead, despite tasting that the coffee had no sugar in. He liked at least three heaps of sugar in any drink he had, but Evan didn't expect them to know or take notice of that, and he wasn't about to be rude and complain for sugar.

"So, what brings you round? Not that we aren't happy to see you both, but I think there's a reason." Sally reclined in her chair near (Y/n)'s end of the sofa and she crossed one leg over the other while she looked towards the couple.

She knew nowadays that if (Y/n) asked to come round, there was usually a reason behind it. Especially since she had brought Evan along with her.

(Y/n) tried her best to take a deep breath after a few sips of coffee that did nothing to settle her system. Her hands were almost trembling causing the cup in her hands to rattle against the few rings on her fingers, until she tried to focus on the feeling of Evan's hand periodically squeezing her thigh.

She glanced her eyes up to the left, peering up at Evan out the corner of her eyes. And she found him nodding and trying to smile encouragingly. It was now or never, they had to try and explain.

"We, we have some news to tell you."

This was it. Time to upset them. Time to turn their world upside down like they did to (Y/n) every time she seemed to find herself and have something of her own.

She set her cup down on the coffee table, noticing the way her dad sat up straighter in his seat and uncrossed his legs like she was about to tell him something bad or some formal news. Perhaps she was. Maybe that was how they were going to see this news.

And she couldn't help but stare at her mum, trying to gage her expression and read her mind. Her mum looked intrigued and that little quirk in her lips made (Y/n)'s stomach clench because she knew she was about to wipe that smile from her face in the next minute.

"Oh?"

Reaching down, (Y/n) shifted Evan's hand that was clenching her thigh so their fingers were entwined. She began tapping her fingers against the back of his hand while their palms suctioned together and (Y/n) held onto him so tightly that she caused Evan's arm to shake.

"I'm pregnant."

(Y/n) wasn't quite sure if the words had come out her mouth or if she had simply imagined herself saying them, because neither of her parents seemed to react.

She could feel Evan's leg beginning to jitter as his heel bashed against the carpet in anxious habit. And she knew he heard her because he squeezed her hand like he was trying to give her some of his courage and energy and willpower.

But her parents were motionless.

Her dad was gripping his cup tighter until it looked like he was going to break the porcelean and (Y/n) was sure she could see his jaw clicking and moving, but he didn't try and speak. He looked at her gone out, caught between wanting to smile and wanting to cry because it was clear he knew what this meant. No more handouts for Adam. No more blood transfusions or bone marrow or stem cells. No donations.

When she dared to look at her mum, a quiet whimper bubbled up at the back of (Y/n)'s throat and she slumped against Evan's shoulder like she was beginning to melt.

Her mum was crying.

And not the kind of tears that one would expect after hearing this news. Sally wasn't beaming from ear to ear, her eyes didn't sparkle or water with happiness. Her lips weren't forming a wide smile or a gaping expression of shock and pleasure. She wasn't fighting off happy trembles and she wasn't getting up to wrap them both in a hug of joy.

She was sat there, eyes red and seething with panic and disbelief and her lips were now curling into something similar to a snarl.

The way she slammed her cup down on the table caused (Y/n) to jolt into Evan's side and her free hand clutched his wrist like she was suddenly afraid of her parents.

"You… do you know what this means?" Sally pressed one hand to her mouth like she had just been told that (Y/n) had three months to live, not that she was going to bring a new life into the world.

A tear trickled down (Y/n)'s cheek and she could feel that familiar burning behind her eyes and nose that threatened to let loose the dam that was holding her tears at bay. She didn't want to cry. She didn't want to burst into tears and start sobbing and becoming too emotional to speak. (Y/n) wanted to have this conversation and make her parents understand that this was a good thing, not an omen.

They had to treat her with some sort of respect and understand that this was her life. (Y/n) had every right to do as she pleased, to have a child if she wanted and become a true family with Evan. They were adults, (Y/n) was an adult, she had complete control and rights over her own body.

"Mum please, please don't do this. Please be happy for us."

"(Y/n) I'm trying, but you must know what this means for Adam. He's in the hospital again, he needs you and now you can't help him."

She did. (Y/n) knew what it meant for Adam, and for her parents too. It meant they couldn't rely on her, it meant they couldn't bully her into agreeing and giving up whatever her brother needed to extend a life that was slowly weaning away.

It meant (Y/n) was finally having a life of her own that was hers to choose and do with as she pleased.

She would be having a child out of love, not desperation. (Y/n) would ensure her child never felt the way she did, that they never felt they were here simply to fulfil a job role rather than to be loved and wanted.

There was a big difference between being wanted from paternal yearning and being wanted to perform a lifelong duty.

(Y/n) sometimes wondered if her parents saw her as an employee rather than a child. They had her to save Adam, the same as Evan's parents had him to save Daniel. The only difference was that Evan hadn't been able to save his brother. (Y/n) was still extending her brother's life and she knew that if she didn't put her foot down soon, she would be doing this forever.

There had to be a limit. There had to be a chance where (Y/n) could make her own choices and decide whether she wanted to donate or whether she wanted to say no. If it wasn't in her best interest, she had no obligation. There was no contract binding her into every medical procedure that Adam needed.

It felt like a heatwave was surrounding (Y/n) and her skin prickled as beads of sweat began to roll down her skin from the anxiety within her that was spiking high. She wondered if Evan could feel the amount of heat she seemed to be giving off or whether he was too infuriated to notice.

One look at Evan's expression told (Y/n) that he wasn't happy and he was clearly finding it hard to bite his tongue.

He didn't want to get involved too soon and snap at her parents when this was something (Y/n) needed to try and talk through first. But Evan wouldn't wait long before he butted in if they continued to be this crude and selfish.

"What about me? Can I not be happy?" There was something about (Y/n)'s broken tone that sounded deadly, as if something horrible would happen if her parents had the nerve to answer yes, she could not be happy.

Didn't (Y/n) deserve some happiness in her life? Had she not surpassed expectations and done more than most in her situation? Didn't that grant her some leeway and a life of her own by now?

Or was she supposed to waste away her entire life and make her one and only purpose to be Adam's bag of goods, ready and waiting for when he needed her? If that were so (Y/n) might as well give up any expectation of a relationship, a family and even a job. She should resign herself to live in the hospital. Be stored in with the blood bags and wait until she was needed to be poked and prodded for anything worth Adam's life.

A quiet sound left her mum's lips which almost resembled a whimper, as if she were the one going through this turmoil instead of (Y/n).

Sally dropped her head to rest on her hand that was trembling so badly her elbow was almost sliding off the arm rest. She looked torn, like she couldn't quite find the words to say but (Y/n) knew whatever her mum said, it wasn't going to be comforting.

"Your brother needs you."

"Haven't I helped him enough?"

The snappy tone to (Y/n)'s voice seemed to catch her dad off guard who up to now, had sat as quiet and still as a mouse. His teeth were visibly chomping down on his bottom lip like a horse at the bit and his nose was twitching, clearly trying to hold his tears at bay.

"He's had everything from me, this is finally something t-that's mine." (Y/n) found her free hand automatically hovering over her stomach as she spoke, and it caused tears to begin to trickle down her face again.

Nothing was going to ruin this for her and Evan. This is what they wanted and (Y/n) wouldn't accept being told that she was selfish or that she wasn't thinking of Adam. She had no need or responsibility to be thinking about him when she was living her own life the way she pleased. She couldn't be held accountable for Adam's health.

No other donor in the world was held to such high standards. If she were an anonymous donor no one would expect so much of her.

"He's sick and he needs bone marrow. You're his match, (Y/n), you should be helping him."

The brisk, cold tone of her dad's voice caused (Y/n) to shudder and she found herself leaning to the left until she was practically imbedding herself into Evan's chest.

And when her head tilted down and her gaze focused on her and Evan's entwined hands, she could feel Evan's chest rumbling like a volcano on the brink of exploding.

His fingers began to twitch and tap against the back of (Y/n)'s hand and his foot was tapping so violently against the floor that he was practically putting an indent in the carpet. They were upsetting her. They were trying to guilt trip her into a situation she couldn't possible get into or get herself out of. How could they bully her into this and think that it was okay or that they could ever be deserving of forgiveness after this?

It made Evan wonder if his own life would have been something even remotely similar to (Y/n)'s if Daniel had lived. Would his parents have pressured and bullied him into donating to his big brother every chance they got? Would they have forced Evan's hand or guilt-tripped and panicked him into being a life-long donor?

Would they have loved him more if Daniel lived and Evan had been useful to them?

He didn't know, and he didn't want to know because if his life had been anything close to (Y/n)'s, Evan would have ruined it. He would have imploded, he would have snapped and broken their family apart and he would have gone on self destruct if he dealt with this kind of abuse and pressure.

And he guessed that his relationship with Maddie wouldn't be so close or strong if Daniel had lived, because there would have been no need for Maddie to step in and raise Evan as if he were her own.

"Seriously? You get told you're having a grandchild and you can't even be happy for us?" Evan seethed the words through gritted teeth like they were the hardest thing he'd ever had to say.

This was their first grandchild, they weren't likely to have any from Adam which should make it even more precious that they now had a chance with (Y/n). They were supposed to be overjoyed and celebrating, not degrading and tormenting (Y/n).

If they carried on they had to realise that they were only going to push (Y/n) and the baby away. Evan wouldn't let his child be around such toxic people, if they couldn't treat (Y/n) with respect and kindness, let alone love, like proper parents should, then they wouldn't be around his child.

Evan grazed his free hand along his chin while he looked between the couple who he was growing to despise.

He had always acted kind towards them, he had been generous and calm and never spoke out against them when he had every right. But his fuse was burning low now. He wouldn't hold his tongue on such an important and sensitive subject.

The look in his eyes was one that couldn't be rivalled and Evan raised his head as his gaze locked with Carl who looked like he wanted to snap and shout, but he didn't have the willpower.

Carl sat forward in his seat, almost as if he was trying to match Evan's stance and his level of outrage, but he came up short compared to the emotions fit to burst within Evan. He locked his hands together and rested them between his parted knees, inching forward again until he was looking across the coffee table at his daughter who could barely manage to lift her gaze towards him.

"Sweetheart, we have to think about Adam, this sets him back if he can't have a donation-"

"Is that all (Y/n)'s worth to you?"

A grumble left Carl's lips at Evan's interruption and he shot his gaze towards the younger man who raised a brow as if tempting Carl into a rebuttal and dare to agree with him.

They could never admit that. Throughout (Y/n)'s life, she had been made to believe that her worth was what she could do for Adam. If she donated and it worked, she was praised and kissed and shown affection and love. If her donations didn't work, they would hum and say that it was okay, she could keep donating until her brother went into remission.

And once she turned a teen and started to rebel and ask why she was obligated to donate, they would treat her like the enemy. She was shunned, ignored, shouted at and told how cruel she was being for not submitting and helping her brother whenever he needed.

(Y/n) knew her worth was set on what she would agree to do for her brother, but it was still hard to accept and to see that confirmation plastered across her parent's faces. And the fact that they couldn't even admit it was worse.

"Of course not!"

A broken laugh emitted from (Y/n)'s lips and she shook her head as a cynical smile twisted across her features.

Their denial wasn't as convincing as their gospel about her purpose in life being to donate to Adam. They could preach that until the world ended and have everyone believing them, but they couldn't convince their own daughter that they truly loved her like they loved their son.

"I've donated all my life, this is the only time I've said no. Why can't you smile, why can't you look at me and see that I'm happy? This is the only grandchild you're likely to get, appreciate that."

(Y/n)'s sudden outburst was surprising to Evan, but it made his heart swell with pride at the same time.

During group, Evan had noticed that (Y/n) had been the kind to struggle with coming to terms with her life. She was someone who knew why she was in that support group, but hadn't quite found her feet yet. Everyone else was angry, overwhelmed, lost after saying no and trying to overcome the oppression they were put under.

Seeing (Y/n) stand up to her parents and do something for herself, it was an achievement. She was saying what she wanted to do, she wasn't giving in or feeling belittled and told how to run her own life.

Her hand clenched Evan's so tight that she was almost crushing his knuckles and he watched quietly as she moved their joined hands and held them over her torso. As if she was either trying to calm herself down or put up some kind of barrier, like the baby already needed protection from her parents.

"You're happy at Adam's expense. Sweetheart you have you're whole life ahead of you to do whatever you like, he doesn't." The smile on Sally's face was a mixture of heartbreak and unease.

She didn't want to be having this conversation, and she couldn't see how wrong she was.

But she seemed to understand how her words were affecting her daughter who let out a huff as her lips began to wobble, threatening to spill cries and sobs into the room.

At his expense? What was she talking about? Adam had no right over (Y/n) or her body or what she did with her life. He didn't own her. He might be the reason she was alive, but that gave him no more rights over (Y/n) than the doctor who had genetically combined her cells.

"My- my whole life? My life has been sitting around waiting to be useful for him. You expect me to wait until everything passes me by and I lose a lifetime, for what? How is this fair? He lives in hospital, it's not a good enough life to waste mine on."

Rage seethed through every word (Y/n) spoke until she was shaking back and forth and Evan had to curve his arm around her waist and coil her into his chest to try and calm her down. He didn't want her making herself sick or getting so pent up she went into a panic attack. If that happened he would take her straight home. Not that they would be staying here for much longer anyway.

(Y/n)'s life was never her own until she joined that support group and started making decisions to make herself happy.

She was trying to do things for herself, she went abroad on holiday with Evan and didn't think or ask about Adam. She didn't ask whether he needed her or think of the consequences of getting an infection or illness while away and how that could make Adam sick or wait longer for donations.

(Y/n) was living her own life now, and Adam couldn't prevent that. She gave him donations which extended his life, but his life revolved around that hospital. It was practically his home. (Y/n) didn't want to keep extending his life at her own expense.

She had a chance of having a family, of living her life and being happy. For once in all their lives, Adam's wants and needs could take a back seat and (Y/n) could have priority.

"You're awfully quiet." Carl began to run his hands up and down his knees as he straightened up from stooping forward to sitting as level as a plank of wood. And his eyes fixated on Evan who was taken by surprise at the attention suddenly turning to him.

He didn't like the sneer on Carl's face, or how it seemed to imply that Evan was somehow a problem. Of course he was. In their eyes, Evan was leading (Y/n) astray, he was pushing her to be herself and not think of Adam, and that was wrong in their eyes.

"Do you have something to say?"

"Dad." (Y/n) hissed towards Carl, hating the accusing tone in his voice that was aimed at Evan. He didn't deserve any of this. Evan didn't deserve to be integrated into such a messed up family and he certainly didn't deserve their anger.

But she felt Evan squeeze her hand and he pecked her temple before he sat forward, clearly directing his attention towards her parents.

"I'm sorry about Adam, really, but you're willing to ruin and take away (Y/n)'s life to give him a micro improvement and that's not fair. When has she ever said no to you? She went to therapy for what you've put her through and she still couldn't deny to help him. One time in her life she's saying no for her own health and benefit, you can't seriously be this heartless."

Sally shook her shoulders and straightened up, but she turned her head away. She didn't like what Evan was implying and she didn't have the words to answer him.

And she certainly didn't like that (Y/n) had gone to therapy, she hated that support group that proved how wrong they had been in raising (Y/n) and how badly they had treated her.

(Y/n) noted how Evan's foot wasn't tapping as incessantly against the carpet anymore, and she figured he had put some of his nervous energy into words and now that he had stunned her parents, he felt a bit better. She let her head drop back against his shoulder and tried to close her eyes.

She was beginning to feel sick again, but they couldn't leave with the conversation so stilted like this. They had to talk, this had to be sorted out. Her parents would have to explain everything to Adam and get him on the donor list.

They would have to accept this or risk losing (Y/n) and in turn, losing their grandchild and her willingness to ever donate again.

Her head stayed resting on Evan's broad shoulder, but (Y/n) craned her eyes to look over at her mum when she hummed and started to speak again. And there was a tiny amount of hope that was starting to swirl in her mum's watering eyes that made (Y/n)'s chest tighten in suspense.

"You… you definitely can't donate, when you're pregnant?"

"You're fucking unbelievable." Evan spat the words as his frame tensed up and locked in place like his muscles had turned to stone.

His words made (Y/n) flinch and cower down against his chest, which she turned to mesh her face against so she didn't have to bother staring at her parents. She could see that hope in her mum's eyes fading away the moment Evan cursed at her.

She hadn't been hoping for anything to do with (Y/n) or reconciling or the thought of having a grandchild. She was hoping that (Y/n) would put herself and her baby in jeopardy to continue being used as a pin cushion for Adam.

How cruel and heartless could her mum truly be?

"Evan," (Y/n) whimpered into Evan's chest, but it didn't do any good. He wasn't going to relent now he had heard that.

His hand slid from her tight grip so he could bind his arm around her waist, keeping her tucked into his chest where she was hiding away like a child trying to pretend the rest of the world didn't exist.

"Do you know how dangerous that is? They won't let pregnant women donate blood because it causes iron deficiency, what the fuck do you think would happen if you took cells from bone marrow? If she got an infection or got sepsis she could miscarry. You'd really consider that?"

Evan began to shake with the amount of chaos and frustration surging through his veins.

They were really that uncaring towards their own daughter. They were really going to prioritise their son over (Y/n) and her baby. They would risk (Y/n)'s health, they would risk her losing her baby and for what? A mere few months of Adam trying to go into remission and living a dull life in the hospital?

Bone marrow donations were big surgery. Needles that punctured right into the bone to extract the marrow that grew there which created blood cells. Doing that could risk (Y/n) getting an infection, she could develop sepsis from an infection and the surgery itself could push (Y/n) into miscarrying.

It was too risky, the hospital wouldn't perform this procedure even with (Y/n)'s expressed consent in case they were liable for any repercussions like miscarriage.

How did her parents expect (Y/n) to go through with this or that the hospital would allow it?

Adam wasn't in danger of imminent death. He had time, he could go on the donor list and see what matches cropped up over the next few weeks or months. (Y/n) wasn't their only option, and she was off limits now.

"You're both young, you could have more-"

Something between a gasp and a moan of agony left (Y/n)'s lips when she heard those words that were cut short by Evan bolting up from his seat. His arms stayed deadlocked around (Y/n), causing her to stumble up to her feet with him and once she was stood up, (Y/n) latched her hands into Evan's shirt and clung to him like he was her lifeline and letting go would cause her to drift out to sea.

Her face imbedded in Evan's shirt and she tried to breathe in his scent enough to calm herself down and forget what her parents were implying.

They would really risk her losing her baby for something that wasn't a cure or life-altering for Adam. They would risk her baby on the pretence that (Y/n) could always have another baby.

But she couldn't. If they would so easily risk this child, then (Y/n) could never have a baby unless her brother died and she was no longer needed. Because as long as she was needed, her life wasn't her own and her body wasn't under her own control.

"Don't you dare finish that sentence. I've restrained myself up to now, but if you cross that line, I'm not going to be responsible for what happens. We're leaving."

Evan was on the verging of losing his composure and his control, and if he heard them admit that they would risk his unborn baby for a weak chance at an extra month of Adam's life, then Evan would lose every ounce of control he had.

And they wouldn't want to see what would he would do if that were to happen.

He was taking (Y/n) home before she was further distressed by her sadistic parents. They were going home to forget this had ever happened and to cut contact with her parents until they came to their senses.

This was their baby, their family, and nothing was going to threaten or harm what they had together.

#imagine #911 imagine #evan buckley #evan buckley x reader #pregnant! reader #evan buckley imagine #buck imagine #buck x reader #bound by blood

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