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yoonia · 8 months ago

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blooming wallflowers (m) | knj

⟶ Summary | Your life has been in shambles with only your two sweet girls keeping you strong enough to carry on. It has been a while since the flame of desire you once had within you dim into almost nothing, until the man who spends his life fighting against arson comes into your life (and your two little girls’) only to help light up that fire once again

⟶ Title | Blooming Wallflowers ⟶ Pairings | Kim Namjoon x older female reader ⟶ Genre | Firefighter!Namjoon, Single mother!reader, Smut, Angst ⟶ Word count | 20,800 words ⟶ Ratings & Warnings | +18 / M for Mature; allusions of past/toxic relationships, healing, usage of alcohol and drinking, dealing with insecurities, age gap with older female reader (OC is in her mid-30s), trapped in confined spaces; contains explicit smut scenes, including: sexual tension, dirty talk, light restraint, soft dom!Namjoon, switching positions and roles (OC taking control at some point), clothed foreplay, grinding, dry humping, thigh riding, implied body worship, breasts play, fingering, clit play, pussy slapping, riding, grinding, semi-public sex (does dining room count?), pet names, groping, biting, edging, oral sex (female receiving), minor hand-job, panty ripping, clit biting, panty sniffing, praise kink, hair pulling, rough sex, protective sex, multiple orgasms, forced orgasm, overstimulation. ⟶ Author’s Note | Written as a commission for @KimCheeHoo | I’m so sorry this took me forever to finish. Thank you so much for commissioning me and for your endless support. I hope you’ll enjoy this story. Have fun reading! ⟶ Story Note 1 | Written in 2nd person POV (in case you’re new to my writing, I don’t use ‘y/n’ coding as all of my lead characters are considered as OCs). This story has POV switches, and this is roughly edited, so forgive me for any mistakes. Banner design made by me, age warning divider by @/cafekitsune | Posted in: September 25th, 2024 by @yoonia

⟶ Also written as part of the @bangtanwritershq “Got A Secret, Can You Keep It?” Third Quarter 2024 writing event! ⟡ AU type: Hold Me Tight - Dilf/Milf AU ⟡ Themes: Age Gap, Situationship ⟡ Inclusions: Edging, Fingering, Angst/Hurt, Restraints

On some days, you would feel like you are finally getting your shit together.

But today is not one of those days.

“Mommy! Hana is trying to bite me!” You hear your oldest whine as she hugs the pancake batter box to her chest. Shaking your head, you can only guess that her sister has been trying to take that box away from her hands.

“No, I did not!” Hana, your youngest daughter argues back, “Mommy, Suzy won’t let me use the scanning thingy.”

Suzy narrows her eyes and scoffs. She has been doing this expression a lot lately. It took you weeks after you first saw her making such an expression to figure out that she had somehow gotten it from you. Hana’s new biting habit, however, is something that you have yet to figure out how and when it started.

“You’re such a baby,” Suzy says, rolling her eyes, which only riles up her sister more.

“I am not!”

“Yes, you are. That’s why you can’t do this. Babies don’t do what grown-ups do.”

Sullen, Hana props her hands on her hips and lifts her chin, as if it would make her look bigger against her sister while whining, “But you’re not a grown-up too!”

Watching them go at each other, you cannot decide whether you want to laugh or cry.

Hana’s attitude reminds you of someone. You, perhaps, no doubt as the only role model she currently has to copy some of that sassy attitude from. You probably should feel embarrassed—deep down, you do, you are somewhere in public, after all—as the girls continue fighting, their voices loud enough to draw some attention, with the addition of being super dramatic about it.

Only for them to have a turn at helping you with the self-checkout counter.

You know the reason why you cannot find it in you to be mad at them. Not when the girls are showing you that they are the perfect carbon copy of you—not that you are the kind to have a tantrum in the middle of the supermarket, at least not at this age—and when they are always full of surprises. And you cannot deny that they are so stinking cute.

Suzy, the bigger one out of the two, is mostly quiet and sweet. As a six-year-old girl, only weeks away towards her seventh, she often makes people think that she is a bit older than she truly is with how calm she acts around others. Until recently, she has always been so shy. But that is only until the moment her little sister starts acting out and then she would react so strongly to her tantrum—just like what she is doing now.

Hana, on the other hand, is more brave and confident, and a bit too smart for her own good. Always so curious and mischievous, and always loves to copy whatever her big sister is up to. And she is always so headstrong that nothing can stop her whenever she wants something.

She just turned four, and you were sure that she could barely speak full sentences just a year ago. That period of time feels so long ago as you watch her arguing with her sister, with perfect sound of mind, clear words and reasonings, a sign that she is growing up a bit too soon.

“Girls, please stop screaming at each other,” you try to calmly separate them.

You have no idea what is happening. Normally, your girls would know perfectly well how to behave. They take great pride in being your ‘little helpers’ and it isn’t rare for you to bring them with you when you are out buying groceries.

For some reason, they have been like this all day. Constantly arguing and making a fuss over everything. Even to the smallest things.

“You can take turns using the scanner. Let Suzy finish scanning the pancake batter, then you can do yours, Hana. Here—”

Reaching into the shopping cart, you grab the box of cookies that you don’t remember placing inside the cart and try to hand it over to Hana. Only for it to slip out of your hand when both Suzy and Hana try to reach for it. Both insisting on taking it and having their turn.

“Motherfucker,” you mutter under your breath as the box slides on the floor, and both girls immediately launch into another series of arguments, blaming each other for dropping the box and getting you angry.

Tears are pooling in the corner of your eyes, and the quick switch of your mood isn’t unnoticeable for your girls as they both grow still. As if they are expecting you to snap. You bite your lips, trying your best not to.

Just as you take a deep breath to compose yourself, a shadow comes to your side, picking up the fallen box and handing it to you.

“Excuse me,” a deep voice speaks, snapping you out of it, only to pull you into a dreamy trance the moment you get a look at his face and see his smile. The dimple on his cheek distracts you from your distraught that your mind becomes numb for a moment.

“Hi there, do you need any help?”

“Uhm, not really. It’s fine,” you answer, barely getting a word out when it feels like your brain has short-circuited. You shake your head, noticing his extended hand, offering you the box that you dropped earlier. “Oh, thank you,” you say to him, smiling apologetically as you take the box from his hand. “I’m sorry, I’m not sure why my girls are acting like this. They’re not usually this dramatic.”

“That’s okay. Kids will be kids, right?” His eyes flicker towards your girls. Suzy, still in shock, is standing right by the cart while clutching the box of pancake batter to her chest, while Hana is clinging to your leg, almost hiding. “I don’t think you remember me, but—” The kind stranger offers the same hand to you to shake as he introduces himself, “I’m Namjoon. I just moved in a couple of doors away.”

Once the information sets in, everything clicks. “Oh, yes. That’s right. I do remember.”

All of a sudden, your memory takes you to last weekend, when you joined a cookout event held by one of your neighbours. The gathering was initially meant to celebrate their 25th anniversary, and you recall how they extended the celebration to welcome the new neighbour arriving in your block. You were so tired that night and were so focused on watching your kids that everything seemed to flash by, but you do recall gossiping with one of your neighbours, Ella—the only other single mom of the group—about how hot and stunning the newcomer looked.

Blinking away the memory, you offer him another smile. “I’m sorry, I think the stress got to me. But I do remember you, although I don’t think we had enough time to chat.”

“It’s fine. I won’t blame you, given the circumstances,” he says, and that cute dimple appears again. He turns to your kids next, bending a bit lower to match their height. “Hi, there. Are you girls trying to help your mom with the checkout?”

Suzy presses her lips together, too shy to speak, but Hana is always happy to offer an answer. “Suzy won’t let me help.” You look down to see her pouting her lips, yet her eyes are still wide, looking curious and intrigued by this friendly stranger. Once again, something that you might share with your girl.

“Well, I haven’t checked out my things and I might need a little help. So why don’t we let your sister help your mom, and you help me with mine?” he offers Hana with a smile as he points at his shopping basket, which is barely half full. Any adult would notice that he wouldn’t be needing much help with them, but Hana immediately perks up at his generous offer.

“Is that really okay with you?” you ask, worrying about troubling him when you barely know him at all and letting your daughter out of your sight.

As if he knows what you are thinking, he points over his shoulder at the next counter, which is only recently vacant. “I’ll take the next counter, so you can see and hear us all the time.”

A sigh of relief escapes you. For some reason, looking at him alone is enough to reassure you and make you trust him. Maybe it’s the dimple. “Right. Okay,” you say to him, nodding. “Go ahead, honey. Help the nice mister with his groceries. But promise me that you’ll be good.”

“‘Kay!” Hana easily agrees, getting overly excited that she has been given something else to do. “I promise, Mommy.”

Find the beauty in the chaos.

You remember reading that sentence somewhere. Perhaps from one of your favourite romance novels or one of those self-help books that your mother bought you during your darkest time.

Each time you are having a hard time, be it from work, from dealing with household chores, or from caring for your daughters, you will always remember those words to keep your composure. Just like how you kept repeating those same words moments ago while you were stressing over your kids, when you tried to remain calm and sane.

You didn’t expect the beauty to come and find you in your chaos instead.

Having someone helping you just when you are starting to lose your calm feels like a blessing from the universe.

Once peace has been regained, everything seems to return back to normal. Almost as if your daughters’ tantrum and fight never happened.

While you work together with Suzy, who is enjoying her role as your little assistant, her smile widening each time the items go through, you can hear the sound of soft giggling from nearby as Hana does the same with her new friend.

And Namjoon, the kind stranger and your saviour of the day, is making it fun by playing a little game with your little girl using the scanner and his groceries, drawing smiles and laughter from Hana, her little drama earlier forgotten. Soon enough, they are done, yet Hana remains by Namjoon’s side, almost clinging to his strong arm as she chatters away while he listens closely, hanging to every word she says.

It appears that your little girl has completely become infatuated with the man. You cannot blame her though, since the man is quite easy in the eye. You have even noticed some of the women passing by looking over, and it surprises you how quickly it is making you feel territorial about him.

“Thank you so much for your help. I truly appreciate it.”

And you mean every word, seeing that not only has he helped solve your little problem with your demanding daughters, he also stays long enough to walk you to your car. If that isn’t enough to make you feel as if you have been transferred into another dimension, he has somehow gotten your daughter lifted in one arm, while he carries his grocery bag in the other.

“It’s nothing, really. I enjoyed talking to your sweet girl,” he says, once again showing his dimple, and you can swear that you are swooning just by the look of it. Perhaps it’s his voice that does it to you; the deep timbre that makes you feel warm inside. It might also be the way he glances at Hana, not even showing any sign that he is getting annoyed for having his evening thwarted by having to deal with little girls and their very disorganised mother.

“I mean it. You could’ve just walked past and didn’t offer anything, but you still did. You’re even walking us out to the car.” You sigh, recalling the bitter memory of the drama earlier. Glancing at him, you realise that Hana has become extremely silent. “Please tell me Hana isn’t falling asleep on your shoulder.”

Namjoon lets out a soft chuckle as he takes a peek at Hana’s face, her cheeks smushed against his broad shoulder as if she has found the perfect place to rest her head on. “I think she’s about to.”

Biting your lips, you hold back the sound that almost comes involuntarily out of you, because you can almost hear your ovaries exploding.

Namjoon helps put Hana into her kiddie seat in the backseat of the car while you strap Suzy in right beside her. “You seem like you’ve done this before,” you let it slip, and you quickly move your hand to cover your mouth. “I’m so sorry. You’ve been so nice and here I am, sounding too presumptuous.”

“It’s okay. Most of my friends have kids, and I’ve helped them once or twice whenever I’m free. I also have a niece from my sister, which gave me a chance to practice.”

You take a peek at his grocery bag and remember what you saw in it—a box of beer, a couple of boxes of microwave dinners, and some snacks—and feel the urge to cook him dinner. Just to pay him a favour.

Yes, that’s what it is. Not that you are eager to have him over for dinner or invite him into your home for anything other than.

The offer is there, hanging at the tip of your tongue. But then you bite your lips, your insecurities and doubts rearing their ugly head, making you feel so small that you take a step back and simply say, “Thank you again. I’m so sorry for all the trouble.”

Namjoon shrugs it off. “It was a pleasure to help.”

Nodding, you look around, trying to find a distraction. You quickly notice that most of the cars parked near yours have gone away. “Are you—where did you park your car?”

The dimple on his cheek appears again when he shows you a bashful smile. “I don’t drive a car, actually,” he says, grinning and rubbing the back of his head. “I rode a bike here.”

“A—bike?” You resist the urge to look around, just to be sure. Riding a bike at this time at night? You have no idea whether to feel amazed or baffled. Perhaps both.

Seeing your reaction makes him laugh, and you somehow decide that you like the sound of it. “Yeah, I always ride a bike to the gym, and I was just heading home from there when I decided to make a quick stop to grab some sustenance for the evening.”

Hiking the grocery bag in his arm higher, Namjoon takes a step back. That is when you notice the bag hanging from his shoulder. The one that wasn’t weighed down by Hana’s little head.

Okay, you have officially decided to be amazed. Is this guy for real?

“Well, I guess I’ll see you around?” He asks, snapping you back to the present before your mind starts picturing him carrying something else on those shoulders.

No, none of it involves you.

Maybe.

You shake your head and muster a smile. “Oh, you betcha. You’ll definitely see us more often. Especially now that Hana has decided to like you.”

You linger at the driver’s side of your car, hands on the door, yet your body refuses to slide in. You have no idea what seems to be drawing you towards him. Whatever it is, it makes you not want to leave.

Namjoon tilts his head, as if noticing your hesitation to leave first. “Go on, I’ll watch you until you’re out there safely.”

You open your mouth, almost ready to tell him to get back on his way before realising that the parking lot is quiet. Too quiet. And you have to admit that ever since you were left with only your two girls, you have been feeling a bit more vulnerable. Choosing to accept his offer of staying until you are safe to go—and feeling warm in the chest for having someone care enough to do so—you nod your head and slip into your car.

Once you are strapped in, you look out the window to wave him goodbye.

“Drive safe,” he says, and then the dimple reappears when he smiles, almost causing you to stutter.

“Yes, um. You too.”

Hana’s eyes flutter open just as Namjoon takes a peek into the backseat window to say goodbye to the girls.

“Bye, Mista Joonie!” she cheerfully shouts, as if she wasn’t falling asleep in his arm just moments ago.

“Goodbye, Mister,” Suzy chimes in with a shy smile, waving her hand at Namjoon which he returns with a small wave.

“I’ll see you girls around!”

Giving him one last wave and a smile, you begin to drive away. You can still see him through the rearview mirror, standing by and watching you go, until you are almost out of the lot and you see his figure running in the distance to get back to his bike. It’s brief, but there is something about this chance encounter that makes you feel bitter about leaving.

Even if, deep down, you know that you will see him again soon.

Perhaps I should’ve offered and invited him for dinner, after all.

There is truly no beauty in this chaos.

Even if there is, it would be impossible for you to see it. Not in moments like this.

It seems like the entire universe is out to get you this week, as nothing seems to be aligning the way it should have. The whole office has been in complete havoc all morning. Typical for Blackwell Press, the publishing company you are working with, to have the final week of the month filled with all the hustle. With everyone getting caught in deadlines, meetings and conference calls held back to back, and your own work piling up, it almost seems impossible for things to get even worse.

But, of course, it eventually did.

Offices don’t randomly get caught on fire during the daytime, when there are people—many of them—inside. Elevators don’t randomly get stuck merely seconds after the fire alarm starts blaring across the building.

Okay, this elevator had gotten stuck before, during that one time some staff were working late at night and the machine suddenly failed to work. Everyone has been joking about it happening again during a busy day, and it feels like karma that it has to happen again now.

But must it happen when you are inside it?

The steady hum of the elevator suddenly turned into a deafening silence just moments ago, and the only thing you can do now is to stand frozen in the flickering light, wondering what is going on. Trapped between floors, the confined space appears in your mind as if closing in on you, the walls shrinking with every breath. The only reprieve you are given is the fact that you are not in it on your own.

Your heart is pounding in your chest, louder than the faint crackle of the intercom as Daniel, the Marketing guy, tries to contact the security staff downstairs through the intercom. His voice remains calm despite the constant crackling sound each time they try to respond, while the other Marketing staff present with you, Jae, has long discarded his suit in his effort to calm himself.

You take shallow breaths to keep yourself from panicking, all while trying to listen to the soft hum of their voices as they talk about what to do, just to keep your mind from wandering towards dark places. Right beside you, Lily, the only member of the Editor team aside yourself, is slowly losing her calm.

At the sudden halt of the elevator, she had reached out to grab the sleeve of your blouse as if searching for support. As seconds tick by, her grip on your sleeve tightens as she tries to control her breath, her eyes locked on the digital screen that is no longer displaying a floor number. And you let her cling to you, even when you feel like you need some added strength for yourself.

It was by mere coincidence that the four of you are stuck here together.

You were the last ones to leave the conference room after the latest meeting, having been the ones responsible for providing the items for the meeting. As fate has it, merely seconds after the doors were closed and the elevator had only started moving, the fire alarm started blaring through the building, and everything came to a halt.

“They’re saying that help is on its way,” says Daniel, relaying the message that he just received from the intercom, his voice becomes the calm in this dire situation.

You find yourself feeling grateful that at least one of you manages to hear the voice coming through the intercom, while you haven’t been able to focus on anything at all. Nothing but the sound of your breathing, the rapid sound of your heartbeat, and at the way the air seems to be growing stale with four people sharing the same oxygen in this tight space.

“What did they say? Is it connected to the fire alarm?” you try to ask, hoping that getting some positive news might help clear your thoughts. Even if just a little.

“No, they didn’t say anything,” Daniel says with a strained voice, possibly due to reality finally sinking in once the intercom stops making any sound to respond.

Pinching the bridge of his nose, Jae leans back against the metal railing and sighs. “Let’s just hope that we’re not anywhere close to the fire, and it’s just some issues with the electricity,” he adds while trying his best to remain calm. But it doesn’t help make you feel any calmer when his eyes begin wandering at every visible gap and crevice as he speaks, as if making sure that he isn’t seeing any smoke filtering into the elevator.

It makes you feel uneasy to see this. Every bit of calmness that you still have begins chipping away.

Soon, silence falls as everyone tries their best to remain still and composed while waiting for help to come. The minutes drag on like hours, allowing your thoughts to wander into a darker place and letting your doubt and fear sink in.

Is the building really burning?

Why are we stuck here? How long are we supposed to wait?

What happens if help doesn’t come?

What about my girls? What will happen to them if I—

You blink away the tears forming in your eyes at the thought of not returning home to your girls. The thought of leaving them behind hurts you beyond words that you are beginning to lose hope.

Gripping the metal railing behind you tightly, you close your eyes and begin to pray. And you continue to pray as time slips away in the dim, stalled box. Please, you beg whoever is listening. Please, someone—

A loud clatter breaks the silence, causing everyone to jerk their heads up, all eyes looking around to find its source. Right as Jae is about to speak, the clattering stops and comes a muffled voice from somewhere above.

"Hello? Can you hear me?" The voice is clear now, firm but calming, and somewhat familiar. But your mind is a jumbled mess of worry and bewilderment that you cannot figure out the reason why you would think that way.

"Yes!" Jae calls back after looking around, seeing how everyone is stunned to silence, “Yes, we can hear you!”

"Stay calm," the voice calmly instructs from above. “We’re from the firefighters. We're going to get you out."

You feel your knees weakening with relief. Even the others collectively exhale deep sighs of relief and Lily begins to loosen her hold on the sleeve of your blouse. “Okay,” she whispers, steadying herself. “We’re going to be okay.”

Daniel nods when he sees that everyone is calmer. “Okay, we’re ready!” he shouts to the person on the other side as he braces against the cool metal wall.

Soon, you hear a low, scraping sound against the elevator door, followed by the clank of tools echoing through the small chamber. The elevator shirts slightly upon impact, causing everyone to gasp and instinctively start stepping away from the door. Before panic starts to set back in, the firefighter’s voice cuts through again, calming everyone down.

"We're going to manually open the doors. You might feel the elevator shift a little—don't worry. You're safe."

Safe.

The word echoes through your mind, acting like a spell as it brings some reassurance. Something for you to cling to. The clanking sounds of the tool returns just as you start hearing the firefighter coordinating with his team outside.

More creaks and groans follow next, lasting for a short while, and then—light appears. The doors start inching open, revealing the gap between the elevator floor and the hallway above. Two strong hands appear from the gap, pulling the doors wider until there is enough space for you to see your rescuers in their fire gear, all focused and ready to pull everyone out.

One firefighter peeks through the opened doors with a smile. “Alright, who’s up first?”

Both men who are with you step aside, allowing either you or Lily to get out first. So you push Lily forward, letting her get helped first before you take your turn.

"Alright, just one step up," the firefighter says, reaching down with an outstretched hand. "Take my hand, we’ve got you."

You hesitate only for a moment before grasping his hand, his hold feels solid and reassuring. You can feel the strength in his grip as he hoists you up and out of the elevator, the cool rush of fresh air hitting you like a wave of relief. Your legs tremble as they touch solid ground that you nearly fall, yet the kind firefighter holds you up by your arms, keeping you steady as he sets you aside so that the other members of his team can start helping the men out.

"You're okay now," the firefighter says, his voice softer now. "Just breathe. You’re safe."

Nodding, you close your eyes, allowing yourself to feel the weight of your fear melting away. Still unable to speak, you glance back at the elevator, seeing it still wedged between floors, and feel a shiver run through you as you remember that you had just been inside it moments ago. But as you look around, watching the firefighters handling the situation, helping the other three who had just gotten pulled out to get help, the terror that was gripping at you begins to loosen its hold.

With a relieved sigh, you straighten up and turn back to your saviour, the firefighter who had just pulled you out and is still holding you up. The moment you see his face, you finally understand why his voice felt so familiar, and why you could easily find calmness when you first heard him speak.

“Namjoon,” you whisper his name, drawing a smile to his face, showing you the small dimple which had been in your mind ever since the night you last met.

“I told you we’d meet again soon.”

“Is this really necessary?”

You are sitting at the corner of the building’s main lobby, together with the other three who had gotten stuck with you in the elevator. Other staff have also been evacuated here while the firefighters are working to find the source of the problem.

Namely, the reason why the fire alarm went off when there was no sign of the building burning anywhere.

Right by your side, Jae is being checked by the medical team when it is quite obvious that all the man wants to do is to get back to his office.

“You were under duress just moments ago, Sir. We need to check your vitals to make sure that there are no other issues with your body that the incident may have caused before letting you go.”

“Let the boy do his job so we can all go back to the office,” Daniel chimes in just as he is done being checked out and the medic moves to Lily next. The poor girl has yet to regain some colour on her pale face, which makes you worried. “Wait, we’re allowed to go back to our office, right?”

The medical staff nods and talks about waiting until everyone gets clearance from the investigation team before going back up. After getting your turn for the quick check-up, you wander off a bit between the staff lingering around, feeling too restless to sit still.

Before you realise what you are doing, you begin searching for a familiar figure between the throng of people, and you don’t stop until you see a group of firefighters returning to the lobby after checking the floors above. One of them, who appears to be the team leader, walks towards the head of security and the Head Editor waiting close by.

“It came from smoke forming in the break room. Someone must’ve burned something in the microwave or forgot to pull it out and the smoke triggered the alarm,” you hear the team leader speak, explaining the cause of the fire alarm. “The faulty alarm system made the electrical circuit go haywire, which made it seem like it was a bigger fire than it was, and it may have caused the elevator cables to short-circuit.” The team leader hands the draft of their investigation report to the head of security. “The elevator needs to get checked too, since the cables are old. You need to get it done soon.”

The Head Editor—your boss—takes a peek at the report and shakes his head. “I’m gonna need to contact building management—”

His voice begins to fade away when a movement catches your eyes, and you see the person that you have been searching for separating himself from the group to approach you.

Namjoon, who turns out to be your saviour, walks up to you with a smile on his face. “Are you okay?” he asks, the familiar deep timber of his voice brings some warmth to your chest, telling you that this isn’t a figment of your imagination.

“Yeah,” you answer with a small voice, still too dumbfounded to see him standing before you like this. “Uhm, yes, I’m fine. Thank you so much for saving my life.” The moment you say this, a soft giggle slips right out of you. “This makes it the second time this week you’ve come to my rescue.”

Namjoon’s smile widens. “I’m just glad to help.”

He takes a look around. “So, a publishing agency, hmm? What is it exactly that you do here, if I may ask?” His curious gaze lands on you and it feels like he is trying to look into your soul. “I hope it’s okay if I’m curious, since you now know what I do for a living.”

You let out a nervous laugh. “I don’t mind at all,” you admit to him before answering, “I’m an editor. I edit manuscripts for upcoming books before they are sent out to print and get officially published. You can say that I’m being paid to read and comment, and gain the extra privilege of reading the books first before everyone else does.”

“That sounds interesting,” he says, raising his brows. “I don’t suppose you’ll be getting back to work after this?”

“I’m not entirely sure. But I don’t think I will.” You glance around at your co-workers. Neither seems to have any desire of going back to work after this whole incident. Sharing the same feeling with the others around you, you feel a strong desire of seeing your girls and spending time with them instead. “I might get back to my office only to pack up my stuff and leave early, pick up Hana from daycare and have a little cool down at the park before we go and pick up her sister. I know she’ll love it.”

At the mention of your girls, Namjoon’s smile softens. “That sounds fun.”

For a moment, it looks as if he wants to say something, only to stop himself when someone from his team calls his name. Namjoon looks over his shoulder and nods. “Unfortunately, one of us has to go back to work,” he says with an apologetic smile, “I’ll see you around. Hopefully, not in another case of emergency?”

You cannot help but smile. “I promise to try and keep things less dramatic next time.”

With a grin on his face, Namjoon turns away and joins the other men from his team as they prepare to leave. You watch him for a moment longer, blending in with the rest of them until someone comes to your side.

“So—” Your friend, Emma, says as she slips her arm around yours. “Who’s the hunk?”

You roll your eyes and smile. “He’s a new neighbour. He helped me the last time we met,” you answer, still stunned with everything that has been going on. You never expected that you would be seeing Namjoon again, and for him to once again save the day for you, “Which makes this the second time he’s helped me.”

“Oooh, sounds like a story premise in the making. It’ll make a good romance prompt, don’t you think?” she teases, “A firefighter who keeps crossing paths with a single mother, saving her during a series of misfortunes and ending up falling in love after the single mom starts paying his goodwill with homecooked meals and other”—she starts wiggling her eyebrows—”raunchy favours.”

You laugh at her comment, even if it doesn’t stop you feeling your cheeks flushing warmly. “Well, I’m not the writer. You can probably pitch that idea to the indie author you’ve been working with.”

“Who? Sana? Hmmm, you’re right. This is kind of her thing. Let me take notes on that,” Emma says as she pulls out her phone and starts tapping on the screen, no doubt writing the idea down on her notes app. “I might advice her to make it extra spicy too.”

As you continue to chat with your friend about books and promising writers, you let her guide you back towards the Editor team who are gathering at one corner of the room with your boss, talking about the incidents and what they are going to do next.

“Are you heading back up?” Emma asks you before you join the others, and you recall your plan about spending the rest of the afternoon with your youngest.

“I’m thinking of grabbing my stuff and head back home if Adam lets us go for the day,” you say to her, referring to your boss, the Head Editor who isn’t showing any sign of wanting to back to work. Much like everyone else. “I’ll probably end up losing sleep again if I want to finish editing tonight.”

You let out a sigh, thinking about the lack of sleep you have been having this week. With new books coming up to prints this month, and new writers struggling to keep up with the schedule that you have set up for them, you have been staying up a lot of nights to catch up with editing.

“But it’s still a lot better to work from home than being stuck here and freaking out about the elevator and false fire alarms all day,” you add, almost like reassuring yourself that it would be okay to sacrifice more sleep for the sake of your sanity.

“Good point. I bet we can sweet talk Adam to let us go early today. I don’t see the point in working when everyone is stressed out anyway,” Emma jokes as she points her chin at Adam, whose eyebrows are furrowed deeply as he continues chatting with his assistants. “At least, thanks to this, I think we deserve to let off some steam. What do you say we go out this Saturday? Grab some drinks, dance a bit, maybe you can practice your flirting skills so you can make use of them the next time you meet up with that cutie again.”

You make a face as you imagine yourself trying to make a move on Namjoon, which only makes her laugh. “I’m serious. He seems nice, aside from being hot, and it’ll be a missed opportunity not to tap that.”

You roll your eyes, but a part of you is starting to consider it. As much as you love being a mother and to dedicate your entire life to your career, you cannot deny that you do want to start dating again.

And the offer to have a night out where you can let off some steam and let loose does sound enticing. Emma and some of your other friends have been asking you to join them to hangout on drink nights lately. But with a lot of deadlines and tight schedules weighing down on you, and no one to watch your girls while you are out, you have been declining their invitation. But after dealing with such a hard week, you feel like you deserve a night to yourself.

“I do need a stiff drink.” Sighing, you remember that your daughters are going to be spending the weekends with your parents. It wouldn’t hurt to use that free time to have some fun for a change instead of staying in. “All right. Count me in.”

Emma cheers. “Great! I’ll call the other girls to see if they’ll come too it so we can all catch up. Chloe called the other day and shared about wanting to see us and give us the souvenirs she got from her trip to Singapore last week, so she’ll probably be excited too,” she says, mentioning another fellow Editor who used to work in the same company as the two of you before moving up to a bigger publishing agency.

Just then, you see a small group of firefighters walking across the lobby, heading towards the front door to leave. Among them is Namjoon, who seems to feel your gaze on him. As you continue watching him walk alongside his team, he suddenly turns. His eyes quickly find you among the crowd lingering in the lobby, his smile growing wider as he raises his hand to wave goodbye.

Emma makes a humming sound when she sees this exchange happening and whispers, “Promise me you’ll tell me more about that hot firefighter of yours.”

Keeping your eyes on Namjoon, you merely smile and wave your hand back at him. “Mhmm. We’ll see.”

It’s a typical Saturday night at Cipher, the rustic-style bar that Namjoon has frequented ever since he moved into the city.

The bar had a different name just a couple of years ago, when Namjoon first came by during one of his previous visits to this city, and with different types of patrons as well. The only thing that remains the same since is the man who is working behind the bar, mixing drinks while chatting with whoever decides to hang around the bartender.

“How is living in the city going for you so far?” Jin, the bartender and owner of the bar, asks Namjoon while he is busy wiping clean glasses between drink orders.

Twisting the glass in his hand, Namjoon shrugs before taking a sip of his whiskey. “Not too bad. I can’t say that I’ve gotten to fit right in with the neighbours. But things are doing good at work, so that’s good enough for now.”

“Seeing anyone already?” Jin teases, making Namjoon laugh.

“Are you seriously asking me that?” He shakes his head. “It might be too soon for me to get back out there into the dating scene.”

“You? Not sure about getting out to meet up with women?” Jin laughs. “Look, I’m not talking about getting into a relationship or finding someone else to propose. I’m talking about having fun. Go pick someone you find attractive tonight and take her home with you. You deserve a good time too, you know.”

Namjoon’s throat feels tight just by hearing that word—propose—only because it brings back a painful memory; of the days filled with fights and shouting matches and distrust, and the desperation he felt to hold on to the hope that things would have gotten better if he chose to settle down.

Shaking the sudden wave of painful memory doesn’t really help when he thinks about opening himself to finding instant pleasure to replace what was lost to him.

Namjoon may not be a stranger to having a one-night stand. But it has been a while since the last time he had one. Those days are way behind him. Long before he decided to settle down, only to have everything fall apart and he was forced to start over in a new place just to survive.

He knows all too well that sharing his bed with someone for one night only does little to fill the void. He knows from what he experienced during his wild days in the past. Physically, he might not have been alone for those short hours, but once it ended, it only made him feel even more lonely than before. At some point, the loneliness started to feel painful. It was what had first led him to start longing for something more.

He once thought that he had found more. Only that it had been with the wrong person, at the wrong time, and he found himself back to square one when everything crumbled.

He took it all thinking that it might have been karma. Bad fate came to bite him on the ass after all the years he had his fun chasing women, breaking hearts here and there, until he got his own heart broken to pieces just months ago.

It was the reality check he needed. One that he has yet to completely recover from. The pain and the memories of the past would sometimes come creeping in, staying with him as if they had been woven into the cracks that were left inside him to remain even after he walked away. It kept chasing him during the nights he spent alone—and he had tried to go back to the game once or twice, only to fail to gain anything out of it—which was why he decided to move away.

Start anew. Meet new people. And then one day, maybe—

He knows that time will eventually help him heal, just like how time has healed many of the scars he had gained through the years of working with danger, chasing fires and pulling people out of crumbling buildings and crashed cars and stuck elevators—a flutter of a smile comes to his face as he recalls the most recent incident—while risking his own body, his life, doing so.

“I can’t believe I’m getting an advice about hooking up from someone like you,” Namjoon chuckles, as he brushes those thoughts away, choosing to tease Jin instead. “Someone who claims to be looking into settling down.”

Jin scoffs. “I’m saying this for your own good.” Propping his elbows on top of the bar counter, Jin leans forward. “You moved here to start over. Not to stop living altogether.”

Namjoon gives him a bitter smile. “Right now, I’m only going to spend the night nursing my drink, enjoying my downtime while I’m off duty.”

Shaking his head, Jin leans back and grabs the empty glasses left behind from the patrons who had just stepped away from the seats next to Namjoon. “Have you thought about my offer?” Jin asks, “About working here on the nights you’re not on night shift? At least, that way, you might open up your eyes and see all the opportunities you can get by standing right here at the bar, talking to people.”

“And live a double life like you do?” Namjoon teases him, which earns him a wink from Jin, before the bartender saunters away as another customer waves him down to order a drink.

Once again left with his own thoughts, Namjoon allows himself to sink back into old memories; all the good and the bad; the long-lost hope that he once had and is now trying to rebuild.

“Wanna have another?” Jin asks when he returns, noticing that Namjoon has almost emptied his glass yet again. “Got enough time to think about what I was saying?”

“Maybe,” Namjoon says as he tosses his drink down. He slides the empty glass back to Jin. “Get me a double of that.”

As Jin steps back to grab his drinks, Namjoon notices the group of patrons crowding nearby spreading away, giving him a clear sight of the bar’s entrance door just as a group of women enters, laughing and chatting with each other without realising the attention they are gaining. All of a sudden, Namjoon feels as if the air around him shifts, right the moment his eyes capture the sight of a familiar smile among the ladies who seem to have come for a good time.

“Can I ask you something?” Namjoon asks Jin when the bartender returns with his drink.

“Sure. Anything.”

“Do you believe in fate?”

Jin laughs. “Me? I can’t really say I don’t believe it, but it’s also not something I’d talk about while tending the bar. Why?”

Namjoon turns back to look at the group of newcomers, his smile growing wider when his eyes meet yours as you look up, as if you can feel his presence as he sits across the room, watching you with a new feeling of hope brewing inside his chest. Life can be cruel sometimes, he silently admits. Yet it seems that life is slowly turning to his favour when you unexpectedly appear right before his eyes, right when he is about to call it a night and return to his lonely home.

“Well, I think I am starting to believe it.”

“I feel like we should make a toast,” Emma starts once you manage to find an open table. She holds up her glass of Cosmo before anyone can start enjoying their drinks.

“What are we toasting for?” Ina asks, just as Emma shouts,

“To friendship.”

Chloe snorts into her drink and shakes her head. “What are we, in high school?”

“Hey, I mean, it works,” Emma whines, “Seeing that we still hang out together even after you and Ina moved to different companies.”

Thinking to yourself, you think about the long week that you just had and offer, “How about a toast to surviving life?”

“I’ll toast to that,” Ina quickly agrees with a nod, and you can totally understand why. Being the oldest one of the group, she has a ton of things on her plate among her busy days at work; from dealing with her teenage boys back home who are beginning to act up; a husband who is busy preparing for his promotion; and a sick cat back home.

“I love my boys, but sometimes I wish they were still the same adorable toddlers who would listen to me instead of fighting me all the time,” she would often say, though you could always see the love in her eyes even as she complains about them. “Are you sure you don’t want to trade them with your girls? Just a night will be enough for me. I promise.”

Chloe raises her glass to join the toast, saying, “I’ll toast to that too. These past few weeks have been pretty crazy for me. I want to stay in bed with my hubby for the next few weeks and not answer any texts or phone calls.”

Her comment makes you want to take a shot of your drink. You shouldn’t feel envious about her having someone waiting for her back home. You shouldn’t wish that you had someone to share your bed with tonight. You really don’t need to think about having to return home tonight alone, to a quiet home, without your girls waiting back home, without anyone keeping you company.

The only thing you fear the most about being left alone with your thoughts is to have the ghosts of your past coming back. Memories always come stronger at nights. Taking you back to the days when you were not alone, yet you are made struggling even harder than you are now when you tried to hold on to the crumbling marriage.

Nobody warned you that falling out of love can be painful. How lonely it made you feel. It scorned you to the point that you nearly sworn yourself off of love, just to keep your heart save. Whatever was left of it.

“Then why are you here hanging with us when you have a husband to cuddle with?” Emma teases, her voice snapping you out of it. Then Chloe leans in to hug you from the side.

“Because I also miss you guys,” she says, drawing everyone’s laughter.

You share a toast with the girls, clinking the glasses as you cheer, followed by a series of shots, and then a new round of drinks is shared at the table. You continue talking, laughing, catching up about life and sharing gossip and fussing over some problematic authors that both Emma and Chloe had to deal with for the past month. By the time the next round of shots arrives at the table, you notice Emma’s eyes looking over your shoulder and grinning at what she sees.

“Aren’t you going to say hi?” she teases, leaning in to make it less obvious that she has been observing the one person that you have been fighting not to look at.

You take a careful sip of your Moscow Mule as you think of an excuse. “We already waved at each other when we first came in.”

Truth be told, you already know that a simple wave was the bare minimum that you could have given him. Seeing Namjoon sitting there at the bar when you first came into this place caught you by surprise that you were left speechless. It was Namjoon who had first smiled at you, and the only thing you could do was wave your hand at him when your legs refused to take you to him.

“You know that’s not enough.” Emma rolls her eyes. “The guy practically saved your life.”

Your reaction—or lack thereof—over seeing Namjoon hadn’t gone unnoticed by your friends. But it was Emma who had explained to the others about who Namjoon was, earning you more questions and teasing from the girls which only made it even harder for you to ignore his presence.

“I’m sure he’ll appreciate it if you offer something special tonight for a thank-you gift,” Chloe teases while wiggling her brows.

You laugh, snorting into your drink. “Sure he will,” you say, as you find it hard to imagine that someone like Namjoon would even be interested in being with someone like you. Not only because you know that he is younger than you, but you also know that there are many women out there—mostly those around his age—that he would find more attractive, compared to a single mom like yourself.

As always, your insecurities are quick to set in. Before you can drown it with a strong drink, Emma quickly protests, “You’re a MILF, ______. Stop selling yourself short.”

Nodding, Ina gently agrees with her by saying, “You definitely shouldn’t, seeing that he keeps glancing at you.”

“She means to say that he’s been eye-fucking you since we got here,” Chloe adds, snickering as she glances over her shoulder to catch Namjoon looking over.

“He so is!” Ina says, leaning across the table. “He’s hot. Go for it.”

Hearing this, you finally take a long sip of your drink, trying to gain some liquid courage. You have only gotten a few glasses of drink, the night has yet grown late, but you have already gotten quite a good buzz going on, and you are using it to grow some courage to look over at him. Sure enough, Namjoon is still there, with a glass of what seems to be whiskey in his hand, and a pair of eyes that are looking straight at you. A smile grows on his face as your gazes meet each other, though it is quickly hidden as he lifts his glass to his lips.

“See? He’s looking over again.” Emma starts giggling and gently nudges at your shoulder. “Go talk to him and practice that flirting skills of yours.”

“What flirting skills?” you ask while laughing. Deep down, your insecurities are still clawing at you, but having everyone pushing you to do something that you normally wouldn’t do—like flirting with a hot younger guy like Namjoon—is starting to make you want to change your mind. “Okay, but what do I say?”

“You can start by saying hi,” Ina says. She pushes her appletini in front of you. “Here,” she says. “Finish this, then go talk to him before someone else moves in on that fine piece of ass.”

Chloe nods her head as you pick up the glass of appletini and contemplate what you need to do next. “You can go to the bar and act like you’re there to order drinks from the bartender since we’ll be needing some more drinks.”

“Go on,” Emma joins in, obviously enjoying this.

You exhale a deep breath and bring the glass to your lips. The sweet liquor glides down your throat and you suddenly start wishing that you had gotten something stronger. Lowering the drink, you turn to look for him again. Namjoon isn’t looking at you this time, yet he is still there, talking to the pretty-looking bartender who was the main reason why Emma had chosen to come to this bar—as she seems to be having a sweet crush on the bartender.

“All right, here I go,” you say, as you finish the drink and muster the will to rise from your seat. Your legs are a bit wobbly when you try to walk across the room, but the muted voices of your friends who are cheering for you from behind give you the boost you need to continue going.

The floor between your table and the bar has been filled with people dancing while you are drinking, and they come in your way, making you lose sight of Namjoon for a moment. Not being able to see him only makes you feel calmer, until the crowd opens up and you see him once again, still sitting at the bar. Alone.

Eyes too focused on him, you accidentally bump into someone who walks right into your path. “Oh, I’m sorry,” you immediately apologise while the person simply slides out of your way and returns to his dancing.

You hear a soft chuckle, a familiar sound that causes your breath to catch. You whip around and your eyes are locked with his. Immediately, something fuzzy builds in your chest, and you almost fall out of step when you notice it.

Are those butterflies you are feeling inside? You haven’t felt anything remotely like butterflies in—fuck—years.

As his smile grows wider at the sight of you walking towards him, you try to convince yourself that his presence isn’t affecting you. At all.

Your lady bits do not quiver for random men. You are certainly not having dirty thoughts about him. You keep telling yourself this as you get closer to him. And yet—

Your heart immediately speeds up at the sound of his voice—calling your name.

“_______, fancy seeing you here,” he says, looking genuinely pleased that those butterfly wings are beginning to flutter again, causing some funny feelings to rise in your stomach.

“I could say the same thing. It was a nice surprise to see you,” you respond to him and—fuck, did you really just try flirting with him? “Enjoying your night?”

“You can say that,” he says with a dimple smile of his, “But I’m finding more reasons to feel good tonight now that you’re here.”

Damn, he’s good, you wonder as you stifle a smile, and fail. Maybe he should be the one helping you sharpen your flirting skills instead of Emma or the other girls who always start making jokes about it and making you laugh each time you try it on them.

“A friend of yours?” You turn when the bartender comes, throwing you a smile as he speaks to Namjoon.

“Jin, this is _______,” Namjoon says, introducing the two of you. “This is Jin, an old friend who first convinced me to move here. He’s the main reason why I hang out at a place like this.”

You offer your hand to the bartender who takes it with a firm grip. “Hi, it’s nice to see you. I see that you and your friends are having quite a blast.”

Returning Jin’s smile, you playfully ask him, “Would it be too much if I thank you for encouraging Namjoon to move here?”

“Nope, not at all,” Jin laughs. “So, what can I get you?”

You quickly make your order, and while you wait for the bartender to finish preparing the drinks, you take the seat right by Namjoon’s side so you can have a little chat. Either the alcohol is starting to warm you up inside, or Namjoon’s friendly smile is making you more comfortable, every bit of tension you feel is lifted when you begin laughing at his simple jokes.

Once the drinks are ready, you reluctantly rise to return to your friends to deliver their shots. This time, you have a slight new pep in your footsteps, confidence brewing inside you after realising that you had conquered one of your insecurities tonight by chatting with Namjoon. Your friends welcome you with light cheers, and you celebrate by sharing a shot of whiskey and finishing the rest of your drink.

It doesn’t take long before your friends decide to end the night.

Ina is the one to step away first, when her husband calls her about one of their sons who had just gotten caught sneaking through the window after lying about doing his homework in his room. “We don’t know if he snuck out to see a girl or got himself in other kinds of trouble while he was out, but Dan needs me as a backup to get some answers from the little brat,” she says, kissing your cheek when she bids goodbye for the night.

Chloe is the one who needs to go home next, when her husband keeps calling her about feeling lonely at home. “I can’t tell if it’s sad or cute, but I think I’ve had enough to drink for the night. I already got an Uber picking me up outside.”

“Are you coming?” Emma asks you, her eyes looking over towards the bar before asking, “Or are you going to stay?”

You follow her gaze, looking at Namjoon chuckling along with whatever the bartender is saying to him. A part of you is telling you to call it a night, but there is a bigger part of you that feels intrigued, and curious to see what would happen tonight if you choose differently. To be selfish for once.

“I think I’m going to stay.”

Your answer brings a smile to Emma’s face. She seems proud and—relieved. You have no idea why she would feel this way over your decision to stay for a man, but she simply nods and says, “All right, then I’ll ride with you, Chloe. I’ll see you on Monday, girl,” she says to you as she leans in for a hug and whispers, “Go get him.”

You watch your friends go before finishing the rest of your drink and leaving your seat. Before you can change your mind, your legs take you towards the bar, returning to Namjoon’s side as if you are drawn to him like a moth to flame.

“Are you calling it a night too?” Namjoon asks you when he notices you coming, his gaze flickering to follow your friends as they weave through the crowd to find the exit door, as if expecting to see you following them.

“I don’t really want to go home yet.” You bite your lips. “I think I’m going to have another drink before leaving. Are you planning on leaving early?”

The smile that grows on Namjoon’s face makes your heart flutter. He does look good when he smiles. “And waste the chance to drink with you? No way.” You take the empty seat that he offers right next to him, which he gently pulls closer once you are settled in. “Let me order for you. What are you having?”

“Surprise me.”

Smiling, Namjoon orders you a Moscow Mule, causing you to raise your brows. “You ordered the same drink twice while you were here.”

“You have quite a good memory,“ you tease him, “Are you sure you don’t work here?”

Namjoon laughs. His eyes glimmer under the dim lighting when he says, “You’re not the kind of woman that I’d be so easy to forget.”

You can barely hold back from laughing, because you cannot find it in you to agree.

“You don’t believe me when I say that you’re not easy to forget?” he asks, moving closer to you until you can breathe in the musky cologne he is wearing.

“Me? I’m nothing special. I’m just”—you breathe out a sigh—”just me.”

He takes your hand, sliding his fingers to your wrist, his thumb finding your pulse where he rubs in circles. “I don’t know you very well—yet—but from what I’ve seen, ‘just you’ seems pretty damn special.”

You laugh again and take a drink, murmuring softly to him, “Thanks.”

He looks down for a moment, as if considering what to say. But he seems more determined when he lifts his gaze and looks back at you. There is something in his eyes which draws out the flutters in your chest. A new look which you have yet to see coming from him during the short time you’ve known him.

The look which shows a different kind of want.

And you can only guess what he is thinking right now. Biting your lips, you wait until he says the words, because there is nothing that you want more right now but to go with him. You enjoy talking to him, to be in his presence, and you have a feeling that you might enjoy it more if he offers something more.

It’s just one night, so you can possibly handle it. Right?

Fuck. All of a sudden, you don’t feel too sure about it.

But the gentle touch of his fingers on your skin, together with the deep timber of his voice when he hums, is slowly enticing you to open up, to give in to chance.

Namjoon’s eyes meet yours and the same dimple smile of his returns. You swallow hard, ignoring the sound of your pounding heart as he asks,

“Do you want to get out of here?”

Biting your lips, you can feel your chest tightening. Your heart beating fast. Hard. Your body moves to lean closer even without you meaning it to.

“Yes,” you whisper, and his face lights up, as if he was almost sure that you were going to refuse.

“Your place, or mine?”

A simple question, made with a light tone of voice that sounds almost joking, except that Namjoon’s heart is beating rapidly inside his chest as he says it. He already risked everything when he first asked to take you away from here. Now, it feels as if he is risking a bit more as he waits for your answer.

You bite your lips, and your hesitance only makes him feel worse. “Is there any difference?”

Namjoon wants to say, no, it doesn’t. The only thing that matters is for him to be spending this night with you. You push your hair back, and when your eyes meet his, he can almost feel your heart beating right up against his.

“Are your kids home tonight?” Namjoon tries when you’re not too sure. Somehow, he understands that you might be wary about coming home to his place when you barely know him.

“No, they’re at my parents.”

A smile is lifted on his face. “Then are you going to take me home?”

You return his smile and lean closer. It amazes him how quickly you switch—from shy and hesitant at one point, to feeling more confident and daring the next. And it turns him on even more when you say, “Only if you promise that you’re going to be a good boy.”

Namjoon calls an Uber to take you both home while you make a quick stop at the restroom before leaving the place. In the short time that he has to wait for you, Namjoon struggles to keep his composure. It’s almost laughable the way it makes him feel like a newbie. For him to feel so nervous as if he is inexperienced in this.

In a way, this is something new for him. Enough to make him feel exhilarated about what is to come.

He turns just in time to see you walking up to him. As if your moment away had given you the chance to recoup and find some resolve, you look as if you are shining, your smile looking bright and your eyes filled with lust and want and it takes everything in him not to pull you into his arms here and now just to kiss you senseless.

“Take me home, mama,” he jokingly says when he opens the car door for you, making you laugh.

Instead of answering him, you grab the front of his shirt and pull him in with you until you are seated in the backseat of the car together, bringing the heat that you share into the confines of the car as it takes you back home.

In the tight space within the car, the heat that has been building up between you becomes more palpable. You can tell that he is feeling it too. And he seems to be giving into it, when he keeps running the tips of his fingers from your hand to your wrist, when his knees keep pressing against yours, and when his eyes keep trailing from your face, down to your cleavage, and then back up to your neck, before lingering on your lips.

He wets his lips, as if he is picturing himself tasting you with a kiss. “Can I be honest with you?” he whispers, leaning closer.

“Of course.”

“I…couldn’t stop thinking about you,” he admits with a soft chuckle. It seems that his confession surprises him just as much as it does to you.

“Since the fire alert?”

“No,” he says with a grin, “ever since the night we first met.”

Was it at the supermarket? You wonder to yourself, trying to figure out what he could have possibly seen in you that night through the chaos with your girls.

No, it was before, you begin to realise, as you recall the night of the cookout event at your neighbours’ backyard, when Namjoon lingered close by after sharing a quick chat with you, and when you caught him watching you from the side while you were helping your daughters with their dinner plates.

“I told myself after watching you go that night that I shouldn’t get my hopes up, since you seemed to have a lot going on already and I probably didn’t deserve any second of your time. But then I saw you at the supermarket and I couldn’t resist saying hello.” His eyes find yours. You have no idea what kind of expression you are giving him while you are loss for words, but Namjoon’s smile softens. “And just when I thought it couldn’t have been more than a coincidence, we got the call to your office and there you were. It feels like we just keep crossing paths with each other. As if I am made to make a move.”

Noticing that you have grown silent, Namjoon tilts his head and asks, “What’s wrong?”

With a bitter laugh, you can only shake your head. “Nothing, it’s just—” You bite your lips, hating the way your insecurities have always been able to come to the surface the moment you try to push against your boundaries, when you try to take risks like what you are doing tonight. But you simply cannot help it. The feeling is clawing at your chest that you can barely breathe. “You know you could’ve gotten home with someone else. Someone who isn’t—”

You try to look away, yet Namjoon isn’t having it. With his fingers on your chin, he turns your face gently so you are forced to look at him again. “Is not—what?”

Your throat feels tight and your mouth feels bitter when you answer, “Older. A single mom. A—”

Namjoon presses his thumb on your lips to stop you from speaking further. “Remember what I told you earlier, and I really meant it,” he says, his gaze softening and heating up at the same time. “You are special. If you had said no to me tonight, I would’ve gone home alone, and spent the rest of the night finishing the last cans of beer I still have in my fridge or eating any frozen leftovers I could find before passing out on the couch.”

You blink. His honesty surprises you, yet you would be lying if you told yourself that it doesn’t make you feel flattered to hear him choosing you.

As if there is a switch inside you that has been flipped, everything fades to the back of your mind. All the voices that keep putting you down are silenced. The only thing left in your mind is the image of this gorgeous man spending his night alone in his quiet home, eating one of those boxed meals you saw peeking through his grocery bag and downing beers until he falls asleep, and you decide that you are not having it.

Seems like you are not the only one who needs to take some risks tonight just to experience some changes in life.

“Yep. That’s it. I’m sending you dinner next time.”

Namjoon laughs. “What—?”

Wrapping your arms around his shoulders, you pull him down to you and press your lips on his, putting his words—and your thoughts—to silence with a kiss.

“I’m sorry for the mess. The perks of having little kids are always having too many things scattered around the house, and—”

It is still surprising to see how easy and quickly you change depending on the moment. You keep going from Miss In Control to a more subdued figure filled with insecurities. Namjoon knows that he shouldn’t, but he is adamant about changing that tonight, even if it makes him feel a myriad of things inside when you show multiple sides of you at once.

“It’s all right,” he cuts you off with a half smile, noticing how nervous you are getting about showing him your home.

As you move aside to start taking off your shoes and coat, Namjoon kicks his own shoes off and takes a quick glance around. Most of the lights are off, yet he can still see through the dim lighting to see what he needs to see.

Much like his own house, your place has an open space concept, where everything is visible from the foyer. He looks at the living room to his right, where the flat television hangs against the wall, surrounded by wooden shelves filled with books and trinkets and boxes filled with toys. To his left is the open kitchen, the room is slightly more spacious than his, and cleaner, with a hint of the scent coming from the last meal you cooked today still wafting through the air.

Truth be told, he doesn’t mind at all about how the house looks like at the moment. He even thinks that your home feels comfy, more welcoming and lively than his own, which makes him feel good and warm inside as he steps onto the threshold of your home.

Still, right now, he has other—more important—things to pay close attention to.

Namjoon waits until you are done taking your coat off before approaching you.

He places an arm around your shoulders, hinting at his need to get closer. When you show no sign of pushing him away, he pulls you towards him gently, and you willingly lean into him until you are engulfed completely in his warmth, and he feels your soft body pressing against his hard muscles. He bends down and your lips meet each other, warm and welcoming as they mesh into a kiss.

For a split second, Namjoon can feel you hesitating. But then your arms come up to wrap around him before returning the kiss. It feels gentle and soft, yet Namjoon can feel every cell in his body lighting up at the touch, and he allows that hope he ignored before to rise as he melts into the kiss

Namjoon is a firm believer that a person can tell quite a lot about the other by the way they kiss, and that the first kiss will define how the night will continue.

He feels you parting your lips slowly as your fingers curl into fists, balling the back of his shirt. He can taste the fruity taste of your lip-gloss which you put on during your toilet break before the two of you left the bar, and he can also taste a hint of the drink you had as he lightly brushes the tip of his tongue against yours.

The simple contact earns a soft hum from your throat, and then you tip your head back and open your mouth, asking him for more. He gladly gives it to you as he slides one hand up your waist and cups your cheek, deepening the kiss. Your grip around him tightens when his tongue pushes past your lips, bringing heat all over your body and his as he devours your mouth, and you respond by pressing your hips into his.

Feeling like he is burning from within, Namjoon starts to pull away. But you are not having it. You move your hand to his face, and then bring him back down until his lips are back on yours. You take charge this time, kissing him as if your very existence depends on it, and Namjoon smiles into the kiss as he follows your lead.

Tonight is going to be a good night.

As your mind grows hazy from the heated kiss, you start stumbling back until you are pressed against the front door.

It rattles under your weight, and starts making other noises when Namjoon presses harder against you the deeper the kiss you share. You feel his feet moving, sliding between your legs, only to stop when his toes come in contact with one of Hana’s squeaky toys that had somehow fallen in the foyer.

You break away from the kiss at the sound of his deep chuckle. The way he seems more amused than he is annoyed pleases you so that your body grows impossibly hotter. How can something so simple as a guy chuckling over a simple kid toy, completely understanding it instead of getting angry and complaining over something so trivial—just like someone you once knew and wish so badly to forget—look so incredibly hot?

Expecting to hear him say something about it, you lift your face to look at him, only for Namjoon to bend lower again and try to kiss your lips. Bunching his shirt with your fingers, you stop him and start pushing him through the dark hall and into the kitchen, where you know there won’t be any trail of toys getting in the way.

Namjoon lets you drag him around with a grin on his face. It seems to please him that you are the one taking the initiative, showing him that you want him just as much as he does.

As you push him deeper into the kitchen, your hands tracing his hard chest and your lips nipping his jawline, you wonder where all of this confidence is coming from.

It could be coming from the buzz rushing through your mind and body. It could also be this want inside you which has been lying dormant for so long, awakened simply by the heat of his kiss. Either way, you are surprised to find how easy it is to simply give in. To follow what your heart desires as if it is guiding you through the motions.

While most of the lights have been turned off when you left your house earlier, the light from the microwave is on, casting a soft, golden glow which falls nicely on him, accentuating every line—both on his face and his body—which you desire so badly to touch and kiss and taste.

You pull him down for that desirable kiss, and he dives straight down, his lips crashing into yours. And then he starts kissing you fast, hard, as if his very existence depends on this kiss. You kiss him back with the same need, taking his lip between your teeth, drawing a soft sound coming out of his throat. His chest rumbles against yours as he gently pushes you backwards.

Namjoon pins you against the kitchen counter, placing you between the hard counter and his rock-hard chest. He moves his knees between your legs, keeping them apart. You can feel his cock straining against his jeans as he bucks his hips forward, pressing roughly into your stomach. Then he moves his mouth to your neck, kissing, sucking, making you moan, distracting you from the object of his desire that you want so badly to touch.

Without unlatching his lips from your skin, Namjoon sweeps his fingers across your collarbone, finding the strap from your top that is already hanging off your shoulder. He pulls away, his dark gaze following his fingers as he unhooks the other strap off your shoulder until your top falls down to your waist, exposing your lacy dark purple bra which you had intentionally chosen for the night.

He watches closely as your chest rises and falls with your ragged breath, murmuring softly, “Beautiful. You are so hot, baby.”

Your entire body shudders with the sound of his deep voice, recognising the hunger in it. Heat forms in your belly after knowing that his words are meant for you. He slowly walks his palms up your body, reaching up to cup your breasts with his strong palms.

A moan slips out of your lips at his touch, when the gentle pressure he is giving on your mounds sends heated sparks through your body. The sound you are making seems to snap something in him, as he moves his mouth back to yours, kissing you softly, teasing, while his thumbs begin to move over your covered nipples in small circles.

You draw a sharp inhale of breath at the delightful sensation he is making you feel, which is swallowed by his kiss. Your chest rises, pressing your breasts into his palms. The shiver running through your body feels so intense, blocking everything else as you push your tongue back into his mouth at the same time your hands slip under his shirt.

His skin feels warm. His chest feels firm and broad. You can feel his breath hitching at the touch of your fingers, his body shivering as your hands start inching closer and closer to his cock as you walk them down his torso.

It draws a deep groan from him, yet he keeps kissing you. He continues to caress your breasts until your nipples grow hard against his palms, and that is when he finally moves his hands down. You only get to pop the button of his jeans open before he catches your wrists, stopping you from going further as he brings them to your back, pinning them together to confine you.

You push and strain against his grasp, only to fail when his hold is firm. Surprisingly, being restrained in his hold and losing control is not making you feel powerless. Instead, it becomes a complete turn-on to have someone taking control of you that your body heats up with a stronger need for more.

Shocked at this revelation, you pull back with a gasp.

“Let me touch you,” you whine as you try to pull your hands out of his, drawing a deep chuckle from him.

“Not yet, baby,” he murmurs against your lips. “I want to see all of you first.”

He kisses you again, deep enough to make you arch your back so your hips are pressed into his. You widen your legs and he presses forward, his toned thigh pressing at your pulsing center. The sensation you feel as you begin rubbing your covered pussy over his thigh feels explosive, and it is driving you insane that you cannot touch him at the same time.

You feel him smiling in the kiss, clearly enjoying this; your desperation and need, and the way you are chasing for pleasure even under his restraint. He moves his mouth to your neck again, nipping at the skin. You try to twist your arm to set yourself free, but Namjoon lifts his head to stop you with a look.

“These naughty hands need to stay back, baby. Do you hear me?” he asks as he guides your hands to rest against the small of your back, your wrists resting on the hard countertop pressing from behind you.

Your mouth falls open, but every complaint and defiance that you want to give him fades under his dark gaze. Pulling away, Namjoon grabs the hem of your top and pulls it over your head, dropping it behind him, before he once again guides your hands to return to their position on your back. He leans back just enough for him to run his gaze over your body, giving you an appreciative look while humming softly.

The heat of his gaze only brings back your insecurities, however, as you grow nervous under his trailing eyes, and you look away, casting a quick glance down your middle. Having two kids over the years has left a few things behind; light scars, stretch marks marring your skin, and uneven curves forming in places which you can only hide under your daily clothes. You realise only now one of the many reasons why you had never considered dating and being intimate again with someone—anyone—and much less have any interest in having hookups or one-night-stand.

Namjoon notices the change of mood in your silence. He captures your chin and gently draws your gaze back to his face. “Don’t be shy,” he murmurs as he presses a light kiss on your lips, “You’re so fucking beautiful.”

You blink, once again his words winning as you feel your heart strengthening, gaining back your confidence. “You really think so?” you ask him after taking an audible breath.

“God, yes,” he says with a slight groan in his voice, drawing a soft giggle out of you. “Don’t you ever question it, baby.”

Biting down your smile, your eyes flutter down with pleasure and relief. “Good.”

“Now, where were we?” he asks as he lets go of your chin, his arms dropping to his sides. He reaches down to unbutton your tight pants, yet you beat him to it when you take the hem of his shirt in your hands and help him pull it off, before tossing it away out of reach.

“Naughty girl. What did I say about those hands?” he asks, and then he is kissing you again to distract you from taking back control.

He wraps his arm around your waist. For a second, you expect him to lift you up and set you up on the counter. Just like those scenes you have often read in the spicy romance book you have edited over the years. But then he surprises you when he lifts you up to carry you away, taking you towards the dining table instead.

With your eyes fluttering close in the kiss, the only thing you notice is the sound of the chair scrapping on the floor, before he releases you and falls back. Your mind is hazy when you open your eyes, seeing him sitting back on the dining chair while guiding you to stand between his parted legs.

Swaying a little, you lean into his touch as he sneaks his fingers down the waistband of your tight pants and begins pulling them down. “Let me see these off, baby.”

He doesn’t have to say it twice, as you slip your thumbs down the band of your pants and begin wiggling it down your legs. You keep your eyes on him while kicking the pants away, ignoring the shudder running through your body at the heat of his gaze and the chill breeze falling on your exposed skin.

Sneaking a glance down your body, you follow his gaze to be able to see what he is seeing. You are relieved that you had at least thought of choosing a matching pair of new undergarments to wear tonight, instead of wearing your old mismatched ones like you usually do when you have to rush in the mornings.

Standing in front of him like this makes you feel self-conscious. But the desire that is so palpable in his eyes helps you ignore all unappealing thoughts you ever have about yourself.

Smiling coyly to him, you sweep your hands up your stomach, slowly reaching up over your breasts. His hands begin to clench on his side as he watches you kneading your covered breasts. You watch him licking his lips when you press your breasts until they come together, offering him with a gentle voice, “Do you like what you’re seeing? Do you want me to take this off too?”

“No, not yet. I want to enjoy seeing you like this a bit longer,” Namjoon answers you with a deep voice that sounds almost like a growl. “Come here.”

At his gentle command, your legs move on their own, taking you closer to him. He grabs your waist, keeping you steady as you climb onto his lap, your legs spreading wide around his waist and your arms come around his broad shoulders.

Being in this position allows you to feel everything. To feel more.

Every part of him feels hard against your soft body. His warmth comes pressing on every inch of your skin, allowing you to feel the heat rushing under, pooling from between your legs. You feel exposed, and the sensation is intensified as you have your legs opened for him.

Smiling, Namjoon walks his hand around your waist. With his palm splayed on your back, he gently pushes you forward. Once again, you collide into each other, your breasts are crushed against his chest, and your lips are entangled with his in a hard, needy kiss.

His kiss is slow, gentle, almost languid. Almost as if he is trying to savour the moment, yet it feels as if you are melting into him. You can still feel him taking control of this moment when his lips are pressing hard against yours and his tongue slipping into your mouth to swallow the sounds you are making.

In the rising pleasure, your brain is slowly turning into mush. Your eyes flutter close, and you revel in the sensations that he is bringing to your body, to every single touch and kiss. You drown yourself in his heated kiss, as he swallows your moans with his mouth and tongue. You lean into his strong hands as one moves up your stomach, cupping your breast and rubbing against your hardened nipple, and the other moves along the curves of your body, trailing down your waist to your hips, before cupping your soft bottom.

His palm presses harder into your soft flesh, making you grow alert of your own movements, finally noticing that your body seems to have gained a mind of its own, moving and grinding his lap in the heat of the moment.

Your covered center starts growing hot and wet as you keep rubbing against his hips. A gasp escapes your throat as you feel his covered hard-on pressing at your pulsing center. Using his palm, Namjoon guides your steady rocking, each thrust forward falling in tune with each thrust and stroke of his tongue in your mouth.

Within moments, the heat inside your core rising into small waves of pleasure. Drunken in lust, you lean into him more to chase it, rocking harder, faster, pressing more into his hard cock until you feel like you are hanging on the edge of release.

“Oh, God,” you gasp against his mouth, moments too close to your first orgasm.

Namjoon mutters a curse, and his hands tighten on the soft flesh of your bottom, putting everything into a halt. He flips you around to face away from him, doing it with such ease as if you weigh nothing. As you fall back against his chest, your knees drape over his thighs, spreading wide, your throbbing pussy facing away from his heat, away from the its final release.

“You need relief, baby?” His voice sounds thick as he whispers to your ear. Without waiting for your answer, his fingers zero in on the exact place where you need them to be, as he begins rubbing your clit from over your delicate panties. “Hmmm? I need you to answer me. Let me know what you want.”

“Yes,” you hiss at his touch, barely able to answer his question while urging him on as you rock your hips into his touch. Namjoon’s other hand moves up to cup your breast, kneading and squeezing until you feel your nipple growing hard under your bra. The ache building on your breasts pulses in the same rhythm as the throbbing you feel building on your clit, which he presses the pad of his fingers onto, moving them in circles.

“God, Namjoon,” you whine, already panting when he keeps touching all the right places, inciting all the reactions from your body as heat rises from your core. Reaching down, you place your hand over his, your fingers pressing atop of his strong digits as you press against them, causing his touch to grow firm and steady, before you slip your fingers under and slide your panties aside for him.

Namjoon’s chest rumbles as he groans deeply. “Oh, yeah, that’s it, baby. Offer that sweet little pussy for me.”

Your cheeks flush with warmth upon hearing his words, and then the warmth spreads through your body when his fingers move to touch your flesh. His fingers are big and strong, yet delicate at the same time. They glide over your slit, which has grown embarrassingly wet, capturing every essence of your arousal as he moves them between your folds. You press your pelvis down to meet his touch, urging him on, and he complies by working his middle finger inside you.

It feels like forever since the last time you have had sex, and it surely shows because you can already feel your orgasm building the second he starts pumping his finger inside you. The pleasure feels maddening. Enough to make you lose control of yourself as your body rocks with him. You don’t even recognise the sounds coming out of your throat as you embrace the sensations he brings out of you.

As he feels you giving in to the pleasure, Namjoon adds a second finger, stretching you further.

Your head falls back on his shoulder as you cry out with pleasure. Your body falls lax against him, powerless against his touch. So he moves his other arm down, wrapping it around your waist to keep you from falling as he continues thrusting his fingers in and out, all while pressing the heel of his palm against your clit until you are weeping with desire. When he abruptly pulls his fingers out of you, your pussy clutches on emptiness.

Needing friction, or something to relief this new need of yours, you begin pressing your wet mound against his thigh, intending to start rubbing against it until you find some kind of release. But Namjoon stops you by delivering a sharp slap, right between your legs.

“Naughty,” he growls in your ear. “I thought this pussy is mine?”

Your hips shoot up at the lingering ache, which awakens the throbbing inside your pussy, causing your mind to go fuzzy with the mixed of pain and pleasure he brings to your body.

Namjoon spanks your pussy again, lighter this time, before going slightly harder when coming back for the third time. Then, as if he knows that you are about to explode, he shoves two fingers right back inside you and starts fucking you with them, moving hard and rough, no longer holding back. It feels intense, sending you light speed towards the peak of your pleasure.

With a cry slipping out of your lips, your head falls back on his shoulder as the wave of pleasure engulfs you. Digging your nails into his forearms, you ride his fingers, bucking against each thrust of his hand, your walls clenching tightly around him, and your toes curling underneath. Your orgasm comes to you strongly, going on and on while Namjoon keeps his fingers wedged inside you, and you can feel your walls contracting around them as you come all over them.

Dear God, help me.

You find yourself praying. Never before had you ever lost control the way you do now. Never once have you ever felt so much pleasure, to make you feel something so intense that you feel like you are losing your mind.

Namjoon waits until you come down from your release before easing his fingers out of you. Your body grows limp against his, causing him to wrap his arms tighter around you to hold you still. His lips find your shoulder, pressing a gentle kiss while he smooths your panties back in place.

“That’s it, sweet mama. Relax with me,” he murmurs in your ear, helping you calm down before rearranging your position until you come to face him once more, your legs straddling his toned thighs, pressing against his muscles, his warmth, and the rapid pounding of his heartbeat under your palms.

“Everything okay?”

You are still too delirious that you can barely think straight, yet you manage to nod and whisper, “Yeah. Everything’s good.”

Looking into his eyes, you reach down between your bodies and press your palm over his covered bulge. “But I’m not sure that you’re feeling the same.”

Groaning deeply, Namjoon’s eyes flutter to close. You continue stroking his covered cock, feeling it hardening under your touch and pushing against his pants that is partly undone. “Keep touching me like that, mama. And I’ll fuck you right here, right now. Or I’ll take you right on top of that counter, right where you’ll be making breakfast for your sweet girls the first morning they’re home.”

His threat draws a moan from deep within your throat. Biting your lips, you steal a glance towards the kitchen counter. As tempting as it sounds to follow your wanton desire, to be taken hard and rough right where you spend most of your days and mornings, you want something different. You don’t want this to end so quickly, for the night to feel so instant, and you want to savour this pleasure for as long as you are allowed to.

“Mmm…No, we can’t have that,” you whisper, turning to him to nip his jaw, making him groan. Carefully, you step back from his lap. Your legs are trembling when you try to stand on your own, yet you muster a smile as you calmly say, “Come.”

You hold out your hand and he grabs it as he rises to his feet. He follows you down the hall and up the stairwell. Past the landing which is surrounded by framed pictures of yourself with your family and your sweet girls and their creative drawings filling the walls, you continue walking upstairs, feeling more self-conscious the closer you get to your bedroom.

Right before your nerves begin to get in the way, Namjoon’s arms come around you, holding you to his chest as you crash through the doorway to your bedroom. His lips capture yours, swallowing the sound of your laughter until you fall backwards on the bed.

Standing on the foot of the bed, Namjoon stands tall, a solid figure standing at the center of your world of chaos. He says nothing as he runs his gaze over your body, appreciating what he sees one last time which brings back your confidence. All for knowing that he is liking what he sees.

Drawn by the urge to touch him, to feel, you push yourself up and start tugging his pants down. “Off—” you murmur as you struggle to peel the damn thing off of him, earning his chuckle. Namjoon helps you halfway, stopping briefly to pull something out of his back pocket before he tosses his whole pants away. He wastes no more time to continue where he left off, as he pushes you back to the bed and lowers himself to you.

Your arms go around his shoulders to welcome him. Your eyes meet each other again, allowing you to see something that you failed to notice before. Behind his heated gaze, the warm dimple smile, and the alluring words filled with his raw desire, lies another emotion haunting like a shadow.

An emotion that you know too damn well as it mirrors your own.

Desperation.

Swallowing hard, you feel the same emotion coming out of you in strides; the desperation to belong and to be happy; to be able to move through life without being haunted by the unwarranted fear of getting hurt. The desperation to feel.

Allowing that emotion to take over, you pull him down to you and kiss him deeply. You run your hands down his back, pressing at his spine until he lowers his hips onto yours. You can feel his hard cock pressing on you, its wet tip sticking out from the top of his briefs, rubbing against your skin. You regret not having the chance to have a look at it, to appreciate it through more than your dainty touch. Yet you cannot deny the desperate need to feel him inside you, filling you up until there is nothing left of you when he is done.

Arching your back, you rock against him, pressing your tender center against his bulge. His mouth unlatches from yours, and then he pulls the lacy cups of your bra with a rough tug, tucking them under your breasts to push them up. He keeps his palms on them, touching them directly this time, skin to skin, bringing all the shudders back and rising twofolds as you cry out his name.

His mouth finds your neck, and the touch of his lips is almost enough to make you come and unravel right there and then, yet you manage to hold back with a bite of your lip. Without taking his mouth off of you, Namjoon runs his hand down, finding your center and pressing down. The pleasure sparks through your body like fireworks as he rubs in circles against your covered center, pressing against your slit, rubbing at your covered clit, and then finding your wetness to draw out more essence out of you.

Every nerve in your body comes awake and lights up at the same time, allowing you to feel everything that he is giving you. Engulfed in the pleasure, you barely feel him as Namjoon starts moving down, spreading his fingers down your thighs to part your legs for him, before plunging his head between your quivering thighs.

You feel a soft tug at your panties, and then cold breeze touches your skin as Namjoon slides the center of your panties aside, exposing your tender pussy. “I wanted to taste you so badly,” he murmurs against your skin as he presses his lips on the apex of your thigh, then he moves to the other side, before reaching to the center, drawing a sharp cry out of you when he presses a kiss right at your folds.

His tongue drags through your flesh before he sucks gently on your swollen bud. A shiver shoots right up through your body as pleasure sparks from beneath, and he starts fucking you with his tongue. In and out he presses and licks with his warm, soft tongue, tasting your essence with a deep hum, while his mouth keeps stealing a kiss and sucking, intensifying the pleasure.

With your hands sinking into the sheets beneath you, your hips begin to move, rocking against his mouth and riding the sensation as it grows more and more intense. You lift your head to watch him work. The look he gives you when he returns your gaze causes your body to twitch, your muscles tightening as pleasure coils through your core.

With a grin, Namjoon buries his face deeper, his teeth grazing at your clit before lapping at the swollen bud with his tongue to take away the pinch of pain. The sensation sends your body falling back. Still rocking your hips to ride the pleasure, you twist the sheets in one hand, and then take a handful of his short hair with the other.

It doesn’t take long before the familiar wave of pleasure starts rolling through your body, rising intensely from the depth of your core. Your breath quickens as you are climaxing into his mouth. It comes so strongly that you can feel it rushing all the way down to your toes. A series of breathless moans come out of your lips at the same pace as the pulses of pleasure coming alight from inside as your orgasm rolls through your body.

Your head is ringing with the waves of your orgasm that you barely aware of how you are pulling at his hair, twisting the short strands in your grasp as you writhe beneath him. Yet he doesn’t stop. Not even when he feels you slowly coming down from your high.

Namjoon continues to lap at your taste, licking away your release as he murmurs gently against your mound, “Fuck, you taste so damn good, baby.”

His voice fades in and out of you, until he slips a finger inside you, pressing against your inner walls. He pushes right in, curling the tip as he pulls out, finding the sweet spot that sends another jolt of pleasure through your body. Realising this, he adds another finger and starts working them at the same rhythm as the movement of his tongue. Your legs begin shaking, your hips are rising against his other palm that is resting on your lower belly to keep you down, but nothing holds you from erupting as the force of your second orgasm quickly rolls through you, sending you over the edge with a cry.

You feel a shift on the bed as Namjoon moves on top of you and presses his lips on yours. The remnants of your orgasm is still pulsing through you, and your ears are still ringing, that you can only take what he is giving you, letting him bring you back to the present with his kiss.

Once you manage to catch your breath, you bring your hands up to him and start pushing his briefs down his hips. He rises slightly from you, taking away his weight and his warmth as he kicks his briefs down his ankle and away. His hand reaches down, wrapping his fingers around his hard girth.

This time, you take the chance to appreciate his beauty. Just like his hard body, his cock seems beautiful, big and thick and heavy even in his strong palm.

With his eyes on your face, Namjoon begins lowering himself on you. Your hips rise to welcome him when you feel his cock falling heavy on your stomach. Your hand reaches down between you, as if you are under a spell. Your fingers wrap around him, drawing a soft gasp from his lips.

Licking your lips, you watch yourself giving him a few light strokes. He seems to enjoy this, as his hips slowly move to return each stroke, each brush of your palm with a thrust of his cock. Groaning deeply, Namjoon bends down to cover you with his hard body. His lips find your neck, kissing the column of your throat as his fingers return to your mounds, pressing into your slit and using the slickness of your arousal and release to move around your entrance.

“Namjoon, please—” Your breath catches when you feel the tip of his finger pressing at your entrance, pushing against your sensitive walls. He enters you slowly with his fingers. It feels delightful, yet you are ready to feel more. “Mhhh…not enough,” you whine breathlessly, “I want you…inside…now.”

He chuckles against your throat, and the vibrations you feel coming from his body aren’t exactly helping to lessen the pool of desire between your legs, nor the tight clench of your walls around his fingers. He gives your pussy a few more thrusts of his fingers before he pulls them out, and reaches out to the other side of the bed.

The soft crinkle sound of a foil gets your heartbeat speeding up in your chest. It’s happening, the voice in your head whispers. Excitement rolls through you, and a wicked through flashes through your head when you meet his gaze again.

You bite your lip and smile, and then you lift your hands, pushing against his shoulders to bring him down onto the mattress. You follow him as he falls back, and then you climb on top of him, enjoying the thrill rushing through you when you see the shock clearly flashing through his gaze.

He grips your hips as you straddle him, keeping you steady until you are sitting in the right position. So right that you can feel his hard cock pressing at your slick center from beneath.

“Well, damn,” he chuckles as he watches you press down your hips on him. “That’s it. Take control, mama. Show me what you want from me.”

You make a humming sound as you begin rocking over him, pressing down against his length. Your panties have grown completely soiled, placed improperly over your mound that you can feel him partly rubbing against your skin. “You know what I want,” you whisper, moaning when you feel his girth rubbing at your clit.

Hoping to feel more, you continue rocking, rubbing your center along the length of his cock. But it isn’t enough. The panties keep getting in the way just when you are close to getting what you want. You reach down to begin peeling the damn thing off of you when Namjoon takes over.

“Let me help you with that,” he says, before he suddenly lifts himself up to a sitting position. His hands are quick to catch your waist to stop you from falling back, keeping you on his lap as he moves his hand to your back.

His eyes look down on your heaving chest, and then his hands are pulling at your undergarments. Starting from your bra, as he expertly peels it off of you within a blink of an eye, then continuing to reach down. The ripping sound of your panties as they fall apart fills the room before you can feel yourself being freed from its presence. The strong pull that he gives on the flimsy fabric barely feels like anything on your skin, your mind too muddled to process it until it is too late.

The moment it dawns on you what is happening, there is nothing else that you can do but to watch with wide eyes, mouth gaping in shock, as Namjoon lifts your ruined panties to his lips and breathes in.

“You won’t be needing them for a while,” he says with a hum at the sound of your sharp inhale of breath.

“You’re so bad.” An incredulous laugh comes out of you as he tosses the tattered panties away.

His hands return to your waist then and he pulls you closer, settling you down nicely on his lap as he asks, “Maybe I am. Are you going to punish me for being a bad boy?”

“Maybe I will,” you tease him as you run your fingers up his chest, pushing him back down. “Naughty boy.”

The glimmer of the foil he is holding between his fingers catches your attention. You pick it up, ripping the foil and letting the rubber fall on your palm. “Is this okay?”

He nods, and then his eyes darken as you gently slide the condom down the length of his cock. Your can feel him twitching under your touch, his head falling back briefly with a groan coming out of his throat when the tips of your fingers meet his skin. Once he is perfectly covered, you move back into position.

Namjoon gently guides you back over him, straddling him once again without anything else getting in the way this time.

You lean forward and place a kiss on his lips, one that feels a bit too sweet and shy. For a moment, your confidence wanes. Being on top of him, unrestrained, and being in complete control makes you feel subconscious with yourself. It makes you feel insecure, suddenly feeling worried that you might not be enough.

As you sit up, your pussy rocks against his cock. You can feel his girth pressing against the dampness which has been growing between your legs, the heat of his body radiates from him and it transfers through your body with each pulse of his blood that you feel against you.

His fingers find their place between your legs, rubbing your clit in slow circles, drawing moans after moans, shudders rolling through your body that you begin moving in response to his touch. Your hips buck up against his hand, desperate for friction. You continue rolling your body as he presses just a bit harder, drawing yet another moan from your lips that comes together with the intense shiver surging from your core.

Enjoying the way you are reacting to him, he rises up to steal a kiss, chuckling softly against your mouth when he feels the twitch of your hips when his cock is pressing harder against your folds. He pulls back, showing you his wicked grin that has your heart beating rapidly.

You lift your hips, and he reaches down to position his cock against your opening. Your body instantly trembles when you feel him nudging against your pussy, spreading your entrance to allow himself in. Then you begin to slide down on him, taking it slow as you take his cock inside you, inch by delicious inch. Your legs quiver around him as you feel him spreading your tight walls, yet you welcome him with a slow moan, allowing yourself to take him deeper as you continue going down, until he is almost fully inside you and you are nearly resting on his hips.

A pulse rocks through you once, and you carefully lift yourself up, sliding up his length and coming back down, getting deeper in your descent.

“You are so perfect,” he whispers to you as you continue riding his cock, keeping a slow pace as you adjust yourself to his size.

Namjoon falls back, letting you take control. Something that no other person has ever done before. He keeps his eyes on you as you continue moving on top of him, sliding up and down the length of his cock, while embracing the waves of pleasure that you get to feel from your constant rocking. His eyes are filled with admiration as he watches you move, your head falling back at the height of your pleasure, your chest arching, showing him the sight of your shaking breasts.

“You are so fucking hot,” he moans, taking your breasts in his hands. You relish every single sensation you are feeling with a moan. It feels incredible. Not just this—the sex, the feeling of him being buried inside your heat, filling you up and giving you pleasure—but also for feeling like you are free.

Sitting naked on top of such a gorgeous man, rocking up and down his cock, enjoying the pleasure without your nerves getting in the way, your insecurities left forgotten. It feels so damn empowering to be owning up to your sexuality, to your wanton desire, after having it denied for so long. All because of your haunting past making you feel like you are less than the person you are now.

These thoughts push you to ride him harder, faster, your fingers sinking into the sheets on either side of him to anchor you against him, while his fingers grow tighter on your hips to help you ride him to chase your pleasure.

“That’s it, baby,” he urges you on with a breathy voice, deep groans slipping out of him when you begin fucking him wildly. “Go on, let it go, mama.”

Holding you up against him, Namjoon begins rocking his hips, thrusting up to meet you in your descend. The maddening pleasure rocks through you, and another wave of climax sets off, coiling from your core, up to your lower belly. And right as you are ready to plunge into your climax, Namjoon bends forward, capturing one of your nipples with his mouth and begins sucking, while he reaches up to pinch the other with his fingers.

With a sharp cry, you unravel completely without fail. Your orgasm comes to you not in waves but an explosion, the pain only intensifies the pleasure as it hits, and your body trembles as you embrace it.

Everything fades in and out as your mind and body recovers from the intense high. Your legs are quivering too much that you fall onto his chest, and Namjoon carefully flips you to the side until you are on your back. Ears once again ringing, the sounds of him moving on the sheets seem so distant. But you can feel the dip when he lowers himself on you, his lips finding yours, bringing you back, and then pressing against your neck to quiet down the rapid pulsing of blood surging under your skin.

Once your mind regains clarity, you notice his hand moving. You open your eyes when you cannot feel his touch, and realise that he is giving himself some lazy strokes. “You haven’t gotten yours,” you whisper with a raspy voice, and his grin returns.

“You’ve already came too many times, so—”

Shaking your head, you reach up and pull him back to you. “I can’t be the only one feeling good tonight,” you insist as you capture his lips, enticing him with a light bite. As he returns the kiss, your legs spread open for him, welcoming him back to you. “I want to make you feel good too.”

Groaning, Namjoon deepens the kiss. Still stroking himself, he uses the other hand to gently touch your tender pussy, making sure that you won’t hurt if he continues. “Are you sure?” he murmurs against your lips, before feeling you nod.

Unable to wait long, he quickly gets between your legs again. He covers you with his heat, his toned chest pressing down against your body, delightfully engulfing you with his warmth. Then his hips rock forward, pressing the wet tip of his stiff cock against your pulsing heat. Your back arches the moment you feel him pushing, just enough until you feel the tip penetrating your entrance.

“Namjoon—” you gasp out his name, and his hands come down to your hips, holding you still as he enters you, thrusting deep and slow.

Your legs are spread wider, giving him room to get as deep as he possibly can until your hips are flushed against each other.

Fuck yes, you can hear yourself screaming in your head, while your mouth gapes open with a breathless moan at how full you are feeling with him snugged inside your pussy.

“God, fuck—you feel amazing,” he breathes out as he too becomes still.

Your body clenches around his cock at hearing his words, loving how his praise is stroking at your ego. It seems that your body has gotten used to him so well that he feels like a perfect fit inside you.

“You don’t feel too bad yourself,” you playfully tease him, making him groan deeply that you can feel his entire body vibrating all the way to your core.

“Not bad, huh?” he groans, almost sounding feral when he continues his gentle rocking. “Guess I’ll have to stop holding back, then.”

With a groan, he pulls back almost all the way out and thrusts back into you, rocking both of you against the mattress as he fucks you into it. You grab tightly on the messy sheets beneath you, already tangled by the previous rocking and fucking and growing even messier now that he is picking up pace immediately. It feels intense, making you feel delirious as he moves in and out of you rapidly. And it feels so damn good that you just don’t want it to stop.

“Oh, baby...so perfect,” he gasps, and you open your eyes to see his eyes glazing over with pleasure as he gets lost in your body.

It turns you on so badly to see a man unraveling this way—to be so lost in his pleasure and growing feral as he gives in completely to the sensation. At the same time, it makes you feel powerful, knowing that you are the one making him this way. For someone like him to let his guard down and show you the real part of him. To let you see how raw and passionate he becomes when he is bringing pleasure to both of your bodies.

It makes you feel so hot, and it feels so good, that it practically sends you straight into your final climax. To unravel the same way he does at the pleasure of his lovemaking.

“Keep tightening around me like that, and I won’t last long,” he warns you, while you can only hold back a grin. As if you will take his words like you would to a threat.

You run your hands up his chest, feeling up his toned muscles as they strain with each thrust he is giving you, before you reach up to the back of his neck and grab a handful of his short hair. A smile grows on your face when he lets out another groan, and his hips nearly buckle and twitch as his rocking begins to grow haste.

He’s close.

“Oh, fuck. I’m coming,” he groans, although it almost sounds like he is shouting.

“Yes, please. Come with me. I’m also there,” you whimper breathlessly when your orgasm starts to build.

His grip on your hips tightens as he begins pumping into you fast and hard, hitting all the right spots. You almost believe that he is also growing firmer, harder, bigger, that the only thing you can feel is him, rubbing against your throbbing walls and pushing you over the edge.

A scream slips out of you when the orgasm hits like a massive wave. Your back is almost lifted completely off the bed as your entire body vibrates with pleasure. You can hear him shouting under the sound of your rapid heartbeat, before you feel him pulsing, spilling his heat into you as he joins you in his own orgasm.

Your legs are wrapped around his hips while your arms are hooked around his neck as you hold onto him, refusing to let go as you relish the waves of your orgasm until they begin to settle. You have barely gotten back control of your breathing when he leans down, capturing your lips into a kiss.

The kiss is slow, almost languid, and just as gentle as the movement of his hands as he runs them down your sweaty body. You can still the spasms of your climax lingering as he slowly pulls out of you, allowing you to feel his presence even as he pulls away, dropping right beside you with a soft grunt.

Your eyes are already fluttering to close while he takes his time taking care of his soiled condom and tossing it away to the trash. Yet you are still coherent when he returns, engulfing you in his strong arms, filling your breath with his scent.

“That was fucking amazing,” he mumbles against your skin as you feel his lips pressing on your bare shoulder.

“Hmm…yes, it was…”

A sigh leaves your lips. The content feeling weaving through your body steals the words that you want so badly to say.

Incredible. Astounding.

“Magical,” you find yourself whispering, drawing a soft chuckle from him.

You look at him through your hazy eyes, finding him looking back at you with a different shadow lingering in his gaze which makes you want to say the words that you never expected you would say to him.

Stay the night.

The words die on your tongue as sleep is slowly dragging you down. You try to fight it, even if you aren’t quite sure about saying those words out loud. You have no idea what will come out of this. All you can think about is that you don’t want this to end too soon.

“The girls are out all weekend, aren’t they?” His voice breaks the silence, forcing you to open your eyes.

“Yes, they’re staying at their grandparents. I won’t have to pick them up until Monday afternoon,” you breathlessly answer, recalling faintly how your mother had offered to take Suzy to school and Hana to kindergarten so you wouldn’t have to drive all the way to her house on a Sunday, expecting you to sleep through your hangover and spend the day resting. “Why are you asking?”

“I just wasn’t sure how they would react coming home to find a grown-ass man snuggling with their mom.” He softly chuckles, and in a brief moment of silence, you see a different look appearing in his eyes. A part of him that seems more vulnerable coming out of him in waves, right before he asks you, “Unless you want me out of here?”

Once again, you can see yourself in his gaze. To once again share the same emotions, the same vulnerability which feels too damn familiar. Deep down, you start wishing that you didn’t see it. Because seeing this side of him only makes you care a lot more than you should for someone who is only supposed to be your one-night-stand. Because seeing it only makes you want more.

You close your eyes and try not to think too deeply about it. Not when your mind is still muddled from the wild sex you just had with him. And when his touch is still lingering on your skin.

You can worry about this tomorrow, you hear the same small voice in your head whispering, and you decide that you are going to listen this time.

Pushing yourself up, you pull the blanket from the foot of the bed and drag it up to cover both of your nakedness before sliding back to him. “Nope, you’re staying,” you firmly say as you tuck him in. “I promised to make you dinner, but I really don’t have any energy left to leave the bed right now, so you can make it up by helping me make breakfast tomorrow.”

Namjoon laughs. He visibly relaxes beside you when he mutters, “I love it when you boss me around.”

You stop to look at him, biting your lips before asking, “Would you mind if I keep doing that?”

His smile softens, and the alluring dimple returns for a brief second as he leans in to kiss your temple. “Boss me around anytime, mama. I’ll be good. I promise.”

Author’s Note 2.0 | Thank you for reading. If you enjoyed this story, please leave a like and reblog to share with your friends and let me know what you think. See you in the next one! PS. You can get to know Jin the bartender and read his story in Blurred Lines. Update | you can read more in the short story: Dinner with Mista Joonie

#namjoon scenarios #namjoon smut #k-vanity #bangtanwhq #namjoon fanfic #namjoon scenario #namjoon angst #namjoon fluff #namjoon x reader #bts fanfic #bts scenario #bts smut #bts angst #bts fluff #bts x reader

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blackcat-star · 1 month ago

Note

Maybe for Jingwoo you could do an angst story ( I’m alway here for angst ).

Another idea is maybe making a friends to lovers story where in the beginning Y/N (or reader) was with Jingwoo in the double dungeon and was the only one who stayed behind for him. So they both got beaten up pretty badly, if you want to make it more interesting maybe they both become players. But I was thinking when they land on the “alter” Y/N (or reader) proclaims their love for Jingwoo, and what he assumes to be his last words, says it back to them. But they wake up in the hospital and from there you can use your imagination :) just some ideas

Farewell.

Sung Jinwoo x Isekai!Reader. Angst, Open or maybe Sad Ending.

This finished earlier than I expect. And I think this is the longest oneshort I've ever write.

Sorry for the long waiting again. Hope you like this. I love you all 💗.

_________________________

[Hello, L/n Y/n] [Congratulations, you have been selected as the first person to experience our isekai system. You have received an invitation to the world of Solo Leveling Note: You cannot return to this world if you press Accept [Do you want to go?] [Accept | Decline]

One night, while you were sleeping, you suddenly dreamed that you entered a majestic and magnificent space, covered with blue stones whose names you did not know.

You found yourself standing on a large platform, before your eyes was a strange screen.

The air was thick with silence, the soft hum of energy surrounding you as you stood before the strangely glowing screen.

The invitation, still fresh in your mind, had come to you in a dream. An offer to leave this world for a new one, a world you were only familiar with through the pages of your favorite manhwa, Solo Leveling.

You accepted without hesitation. Of course, who would miss this opportunity. Then the world spin brings you into complete darkness before you even know what happened.

Opening your eyes reveals a totally unfamiliar setting.

__________________________

It was raining that day, you stood in the middle of the park, barefoot on the cold cement floor, your eyes still not used to the image of this world. The rain fell heavily, splashing cold drops of water on your face, and your body shivered from hunger, and confusion.

"Welcome, special player," the system's voice rang in your head for the third time, cold and emotionless, as if everything was a pre-determined program. "Congratulations on successfully entering the world of Solo Leveling, hope you will have fun here. I'll be your assistant, please call me when you need."

Your body shivered as you held yourself tightly while your clothes remained wet. Your forehead was covered in wet hair while your feet remained cold from the frozen state. The world around you remained blurred like a distant memory from your dream state.

You shivered slightly, hugging your drenched body with both hands. Your hair was sticking to you. "System...?" you muttered, your voice trembling.

"Yes, I am here," the system replied, its voice as flat as an emotionless recording. "You are a special player. Your privileges include: a unique skill system, an ability to grow beyond limits, and an undisclosed mission. Time to adapt to the new world: 72 hours."

This world was truly Solo Leveling. You told yourself, trying to calm yourself as cold drops of rain continued to fall on your face. Where were you? What point in the story? A cold wind blew past you, causing you to collapse. No suitable clothes, no food, no shelter. You groaned. 'Why did the system bring me here without giving me any identity!!?'

At that moment, footsteps rang out from afar. You turned around, reflexively.

A woman and a boy were walking through the park. He stopped when he saw you, his eyes wide with surprise. He pulled his mother's shirt and pointed at you.

You recognize the boy.

Sung Jinwoo.

...But he's so small. You realize you have transformed into a child of 8 or 10 years old during that moment.

Kyung-hye leads Jinwoo by the hand while she greets "Hello, who are you?" with a gentle smile. "Where are your parents? Why are you standing in the rain like this?"

You're still so shocked that you unconsciously shake your head. Kyung-hye thinks that means you don't have any relatives (although that's true at the moment.)

Jinwoo remains beside his mother while staring at you with his eyes. Jinwoo extends his hand to his mother as he asks her permission to bring you home. "Can she go home with us?"

The unexpected offer from her son made Kyung-hye turn her attention toward him. Heavy drops from the continuous rain kept falling onto the uneven pavement. You remained motionless like a forsaken kitten while your body trembled from the cold.

"...Do you want to help her?" Kyung-hye asked, gently, while brushing your wet hair aside to get a better look at your face.

Jinwoo nodded, his eyes unusually determined. "She's cold. We can't leave her here."

Your eyes met briefly before Kyung-hye returned a smile. "Yeah, you're right. I must not ignore this child." She lowered herself to the ground while extending her hand. "You want to visit my house today? At least to change and eat something?"

You looked at those gentle eyes, and then looked at Jinwoo. A genuine smile from the boy appeared so natural and kind that you automatically returned it.

You found comfort in a soft towel while sitting at the table with a hot bowl of porridge in your presence. Kyung-hye was worriedly stroking your hair, while Jinwoo sat across from you, eating while secretly watching you.

You tried to adapt to this small body, with shorter hair, more slender hands. The system in your head was still silent, not mentioning any mission or goal. Only a line of text appeared faintly.

[World positioning complete. Identity synchronization: complete. Temporary: living as a normal child.]

A new life had begun.

________________________________

Years passed...

You grew up next to Sung Jinwoo like it was the most natural habit in the world.

From the moment Jinwoo asked his mother to take you home, the two of you became an inseparable couple.

You and Jinwoo used to share the lunch box your mother made together, even though sometimes it was just a boiled egg or a few small pieces of ham. On days when you got bad grades, you two would sneak into the warehouse behind the school together, trembling and worried but still trying to smile to comfort each other. The times you both got punished for being naughty in class - drawing on the blackboard, imitating the teacher's voice, or secretly hiding candy in your desk - all became unforgettable memories.

You used to run away with Jinwoo from the big kids who bullied the weaker students. Jinwoo wasn't good at fighting, but he always pulled you ahead, panting but still turning back, asking softly, "Are you okay?"

And after all those times, Kyung-hye's mother would appear at the school gate, smiling gently when she saw the two of them, dirty and scruffy, still holding hands.

Time passed so peacefully that you almost forgot that this world would become chaotic in a few years.

Only your feelings for Jinwoo were always there. From the time you knew him through the pages of a comic book, until the time you actually met him.

Those feelings grew over the years.

You started off with a crush on a character before your feelings evolved into an innocent friendship. This connection required no special cause similar to the way sunlight illuminates mornings or cicadas fill summer air with their songs. Then gradually, you realized that your heart started to skip a beat every time Jinwoo smiled. A warm feeling rose when he held your hand as you crossed the street, even though he was grown up and no longer needed you.

You liked Jinwoo.

That love was not noisy, not dramatic. It crept in like the spring rains silently watering the fields of memories. But then, over time, that feeling also began to hurt you.

You still paid attention to the plot. You knew that Jinwoo would meet his destined person in the future. You were just a character added by accident. But you still couldn't help but like him.

Everyone knew you liked Jinwoo.

Even Jinah, his younger sister, when she grew up, used to look at you with both curiosity and certainty. One summer afternoon, when the three of them were peeling fruit in the living room, Jinah suddenly asked in a nonchalant voice.

"You like my oppa, right?"

You were stunned. Just for a second. But it was enough for your face to turn red. You smiled, changing the subject by shoving a piece of apple into Jinah's hand, saying, "Eat it, or the apple will turn brown."

Only Jinwoo didn't know.

He only sees you as a friend, a sister, nothing more, nothing less.

You don't blame him.

It's just that sometimes you wish Jinwoo would look back at you a little more. Not with the eyes of a close friend, but with a softer, deeper gaze, like you've always looked at him all these years.

______________________

And then the incident came like a flood, without warning, without mercy.

The peaceful world began to crack when the first dungeon gates appeared. Strange, violent creatures beyond imagination began to pour out of nowhere, spreading panic and destruction everywhere. Ordinary people were no longer strong enough to fight back. But then - along with the danger - people with supernatural powers also awakened one by one. They were called Hunters.

In that chaos, the Sung family could not escape the vortex of fate.

Sung Il-Hwan, the calm and responsible father, was one of the first to awaken the power of a hunter. With a rare ability, he joined the raiding team with the desire to protect humanity from the threats of the dungeon. But during a high-level raid, the gate slammed shut - and he never returned.

The name Sung Il-Hwan became a silent mark in the missing person records. No body, no clues. Only a void remained, deeply embedded in Jinwoo's heart and the whole family's.

The pain had not yet subsided when another disaster struck.

Mrs. Kyung-hye, Jinwoo's mother, could not adapt to the environment that was gradually being eroded by mana. Her normal human body could not withstand the waves of mana emitted by the hunters. One morning, she collapsed without warning. The doctor called it Eternal Slumber - a deep coma that current medicine could not explain or cure.

She was still there, lying motionless in the cold hospital room, as if she were sleeping a long, endless sleep.

And so, the Sung family - once warm and filled with laughter in the small house - now had only three people left.

Jinah, Jinwoo's little sister, tried to be strong every day, hiding her tears behind her strong eyes so as not to become a burden to her brother.

Jinwoo, awakened with only E-rank power, now has to shoulder the whole family, amidst the life-and-death battles and the loneliness that gnaws at his mind.

And you - who is by their side like a remaining piece of peace, a friend who accidentally gets caught up in the story of people who shoulder a fate beyond the ordinary.

So the story has officially begun.

At the same time, the Isekai System - which you once considered an echo from an old dream, a part of a distant memory after long days of living as a normal human - suddenly reappeared.

After many years of silence, it reappeared with a mission for you.

[System mission has been activated.] [Main mission: Support the protagonist until he achieves Shadow Power.] [Note: When you complete it, you can choose your own path, as long as it does not affect the story.]

It was just a simple command, but it was like a cold knife cutting through your heart. You stood there, looking at the message that appeared before your eyes, unable to do anything but accept it. Because you knew this was not a dream. And from now on, things would never be the same again.

The Double Dungeon event occurred. A seemingly normal raid turned into hell. Blood spilled, people fell. Lives were crushed without mercy. And in the middle of that boundary between life and death, Jinwoo opened his eyes to a System of his own. A System as powerful, mysterious, and cruel as his own fate.

He began to change. With each passing day, his body grew taller, stronger, his eyes sharper. Old wounds healed, pain disappeared.

But in the process, you also gradually realized that it was not only his body that changed - but the world around him was shifting.

The story began to roll.

Jinwoo was no longer the clumsy, gentle Jinwoo of the past. He was now the center of an approaching storm. Big names began to notice him. Fierce battles, life-or-death choices, and pre-arranged fate.

You knew - the time would come when he would meet Cha Hae-in. That girl, that gaze, that position in the script was predetermined from the beginning. Even though you've never met her, you know that no one can replace her in Jinwoo's destined role.

And you?

You're just a supporter. A good friend who always stands behind, takes care of every wound, takes care of every meal, wipes the blood off his hands without asking where he came from. An outsider, witnessing the love story forming from afar, in silence. And someone who secretly likes him.

But you have to close it. Lock it tightly. Because you understand the rules of the game. You're not allowed to love. You're not allowed to interfere with a pre-written storyline.

You're a variable. And variables never have a happy ending.

________________________________

He met her.

Cha Hae-in.

The girl with eyes like a calm lake, always reflecting calmness and kindness - a beauty so pure that it seemed like it could wash away all the ruins in the person's soul. An S-rank Hunter, but gentler than anyone you've ever known.

You stood there silently behind. When Jinwoo's eyes met hers, you saw light.

The light that had appeared in Jinwoo's eyes when he woke up after the Double Dungeon incident, realized that he was still alive, realized that he still had a chance to fix everything, realized that he could still see his family, see you. But now, that light was no longer directed towards you.

In that moment, the world seemed to stop.

You, a person who had gone through countless scenes in this story, suddenly understood. That it wasn't that you weren't good enough. It's just that you're not the one destined to be in this story.

You're an outsider. A sideline. A nameless shadow.

Time passed.

Jinwoo grew stronger, taller, colder. He became an icon. The one who holds the darkness. The one who breaks all limits. At the same time, your mission was completed, but you did not choose to leave, you still wanted to stay by Jinwoo's side a little longer.

And then Jinwoo successfully created the Holy Water of Life.

His mother - Kyung-hye - woke up.

You stood outside the hospital room's glass window. Inside, Jinwoo burst into tears. Those tears were unlike any you had ever seen on his face, not tears of loss, or hatred, or victory. But tears of life.

Jinwoo also became an S-rank hunter, successfully making a name for himself. He also quickly became powerful, then got the attention of the whole world, created his own guild.

You were the one who observed all of that process, observed his growth. Your heart warms, then quickly cools. That's when you realize.

The most important things in Jinwoo's life don't need you anymore.

Not because you're not important. It's because your role in the story has ended.

_______________

The first time he talked about her was after a meeting at the Association, when the two of you left the building together. The afternoon sunlight fell gently on your shoulders, and you - as usual - walked beside Jinwoo in silence.

Jinwoo suddenly spoke, his voice low, as if he was thinking about something far away. "She's different."

You turned around, frowning slightly. "Who?"

"Cha Hae-in."

You paused briefly before switching your voice to inquire "What exactly do you mean by difference?"

A relaxed smile appeared on Jinwoo's face as he shook his head while recalling something pleasant. "I don't typically trust hunches or gut feelings. But when I'm near her, the mana in my body is no longer chaotic. It's peaceful, as if - as if I can breathe."

You smiled. A smile so beautiful that even Jinwoo glanced at you. But you just looked forward, nodding, "It sounds like you found a place where your heart doesn't have to fight anymore."

Jinwoo didn't say anything. Maybe he thought you were misunderstanding.

As for you, you knew you were right.

Another time, after the two of them had just returned from a dungeon, it was raining lightly. The two of them took shelter under the awning of a small restaurant, their clothes still wet from the cold dew in the dungeon. Jinwoo wiped the raindrops from his forehead, then suddenly asked.

"Do you think someone who always fights and always kills is worthy of love?"

You were stunned, your heart filled with unease. "..Why do you ask?"

Jinwoo looked out at the rain, his eyes as deep as the night.

"Because I'm afraid. Hae-in once came to join Ahjin, she admitted that she liked me. I'm afraid that if Hae-in really liked me, she would suffer too much pain. I'm not an ordinary person. I live in blood and darkness. And she's too pure."

You were silent.

In that moment, you just wanted to hug Jinwoo, to tell him that you weren't afraid of his darkness, that you'd lived with him for so long and never found him hateful. But instead, you just smiled.

"If she chose you, then she have discovered qualities you never knew you possessed."

"So you think I'm worthy?"

You nodded slightly. "Yes. Very worthy."

Because otherwise, why would I have loved you for so many years?

________

Jinwoo released a deep sigh as both of you sat on a rooftop watching the Seoul skyline during a late evening.

"I often yearn to experience life as ordinary people do. No system, no monsters, no war. I could do something simple. Have someone waiting for me to come home. And if I'm lucky, maybe..."

He was silent. "...Maybe get married. Have a family."

You didn't reply.

You just clenched the hot cup of tea in your hand, your eyes silently looking down at the traffic below. Your heart silently broke once again - not because Jinwoo loved someone else, but because you realized you were never his choice in the first place.

Everything seemed to be going in the right direction.

Except for your heart.

"Do you think I'm suited to a normal life?" Jinwoo suddenly asked, his eyes following the clouds drifting by.

You looked up at him, smiling slightly. "Depends on your definition of 'normal'."

Jinwoo nodded slightly, then was silent for a long while.

Then, he turned to you, his gaze very gentle. As if he was thinking about something very beautiful, very gentle. "I was thinking about asking Hae-in out. You know, the government built a park at the gate where my father went missing. The only friend I could think of to join me at that place was her."

Your face showed a pleasant expression while your heart endured the pain of his words. 'What about me? Am I not your friend?' You didn't say anything.

He smiled, a rare smile, not of victory or power. But a smile that came from the desire to live, the desire to be happy. "I want to take her there. Simple. Walk, eat ice cream, play games."

You looked at him.Time appeared frozen at that instant. His gentle voice carried through the room without being either too high or too low yet every word he spoke left a deep impression.

You remembered the day Jinwoo was still an E-rank, awkward, scared, and silent. The one who used to sit huddled in the corner of the hospital. Now he had become a strong person.

You had been with him all that way.

And it seemed like at this moment, you had made a decision for yourself.

____________

"Unnie, do you really have to go?"

Jinah looked at you with sad eyes. Kyung-hye standing next to you also looked at you with pity.

More than anyone, they were the ones who understood your feelings for Jinwoo the most. More than anyone, they knew how much you had sacrificed for Jinwoo. To make the decision to leave, you must have torn your heart to pieces.

With trembling voice Kyung-hye held your hand before she spoke. "I'm sorry I can't help you."

You smiled as you shook your head. "I don't need anything. I am satisfied by his happiness alone. He's found happiness in his life. I think it's time for me to let go and truly live for myself."

Jinah hugged you, unable to hold back her tears. "Unnie, you can stay...you still have us."

You bit your lip, gently touching your head to Jinah's forehead. You just smiled. Gently. Quietly. Then promise. "Someday, I'll come back to see everyone."

It's a lie, a lie only you know.

They don't stop you. Because they understand, there are things that can't be kept - no matter how much love.

You left before Jinwoo returned. No message. No goodbye.

The flight took off.

You sat by the window, your hand on the system screen.

[Request: Erase all your memories related to the Solo Leveling storyline.] [Sub-request: Completely erase memories of Y/n from the memory systems of all individuals who have ever come into contact with you.] [Do you want to confirm?] [Yes/No]

You looked out the plane window, taking in the land of Korea one last time, all your memories since the day you came to this world playing back like a movie. A tear fell down your cheek. You smiled. "Yes"

[Processing...] [Success. From now on, you will not remember anything about the plot. We will not appear again. Wish you a peaceful life.]

Then you fell asleep.

______________________

At the park which used to be a high-level dungeon now served as a lively promenade, where children played while sunlight bathed everything in golden light.

The stone path guided Jinwoo and Hae-in through the park while the wind made the trees' branches dance and let fresh leaves fall from the branches. HHae-in softly held Jinwoo's hand as wind blew through her golden hair.

A girl sprinted by as her mother followed behind her with a pleasant expression. That laughter - unintentionally - struck Jinwoo's ears, like a strange yet painfully familiar bell.

He paused.

His head turned slightly as his gaze focused on an empty area in front of him. A fresh breeze brought forth the fragrances of new grass and damp earth together with another distinct smell. Something he couldn't name.

He automatically reached his right hand toward his chest.

There. His heart.

It was like something was quietly throbbing. Not clear, not intense, but persistent like a whisper in a dream. He frowned. It felt empty. Like a forgotten silence in a song he once knew.

"...What's wrong?" Hae-in approached him with soft words while squeezing his hand gently as she watched him with worry.

A friendly smile appeared on Jinwoo's face but his expression in his eyes remained blank. "I'm fine. Something important seems to be missing from my mind right now."

Hae-in tilted her head slightly, then smiled. "Then... when you remember, can you tell me?"

Jinwoo looked at her before gently squeezing her hand while smiling. He gave his word to share the information.

Jinwoo experienced a brief emotional twinge as he continued walking under the tree canopy.

There's something still missing. A name has been erased. A look, a laugh, a habit that was once so familiar, now only a pale image deep in his mind. And even though there are no more memories, his heart still carries a nameless emptiness.

No one can fill it. No one can replace it.

Farewell, Jinwoo, my love...

______________

Why oh why tell me why not me 😔

Why oh why we were mean to be...

#sung jinwoo x reader #sung jinwoo #jinwoo #solo leveling #solo leveling x reader #sung jinwoo x you #sung jinwoo x y/n #jinwoo sung x reader #jinwoo sung

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sour-jellyy · 2 days ago

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controlling!john price x younger!fem!reader

tw: slight? dubcon, creampie, forced pregnancy, age gap

(i’m new to this so sorry if i didn’t include everything in the tw)

john price is not a toxic or controlling man.

no, not by any means. he just likes what he likes, and makes sure to do anything is his power to get it. and then keep it that way.

that might be the reason you haven’t met up with your college friends for a night of drinks and dancing for what feels like ages. sure, the way he says that is not where you should be feels a little bit off, but the way he fucks the fight out of you whenever you try to bring it up is not toxic. just an old man who wants his little bird next to him at all times. it must be because of the big age gap between you. after all, you knew what you were getting into when you started dating a man 20 years your senior.

and the fact that all your impossibly short skirts are gone cannot be his fault. no, he loves to see you in them, how could you think he’d be throwing them away? you silly girl.

sure, then came the constant tracking of your location on your phone, but that is just a safety measure. now you never go anywhere without him, so it’s not a problem anymore.

he’s just so loving, how could you ever resist? the day he put a rock on your finger was the happiest.

and when he stopped allowing you to get your birth control, it was in your best interest, baby. he loves you so much, he cannot wait to start a family with you. too young? no, there’s no such thing. young things like you are made exactly for this.

so what if he licked your tears when he first came into you, completely unprotected? oh, that is long forgotten now, as you waddle around the kitchen with his first child on a hip and the second already in your belly. your friends are posting pics from their graduation trips, but you are way better off. can’t have you whore around like that, no. you were so lucky john found you and made you a proper woman.

#captain john price #john price #captain john price x reader #john price x reader #cod x reader #cod x fanfic #call of duty #sour-jellyy writes #sour-jellyy

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awordsmith · 1 month ago

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haunted 𝜗𝜚 r. spencer

it gets tiring… the sleepless nights, the waking up in cold sweat, not being able to sleep without dreaming about that wretched man... you can’t seem to remember what life was like before you smelled her perfume and felt his gangly hands slipping under your shirt.

the terrors follow you despite neglecting them time in the dark, and when you receive a phone call from Spencer in the middle of the night, you understand that he too, is being haunted.

who? spencer reid x bau!reader when? s10 genre: angst (comfort) content warning: sa trauma, a little grappling with depression-anxiety-insomnia. facing, switching povs, kind of proofed . . .reid with incredible care !! word count: 4.3k a/n: finally got the second part out!! i pushed this off for a long time, not just because of school, but because of how depressing it lowkey made me. . .enjoy!!

…and that’s when I woke up, he slipped me something, somehow. I don’t know how long I was asleep for,” you rambled, trying to recount everything that had happened up to this moment.

“What happened when you woke up in the cell?”

“I–” you paused, trying to remember, “there was–the girl–

“Avice Diericke?” The cop pulled out a file–likely a report, “the most recent missing victim.”

“Were they–did you find their bodies?” He paused. You were sitting in a hospital bed, the lights above you weren’t ideal–they hurt your eyes, but every time you closed them, you saw her hair swishing into that dungeon, and you smelled her perfume mixing with the stench of smoke and human remains.

“I cannot disclose that information…” he glanced around the room, and you were alone. He sighed and leaned in, “I’m not supposed to talk about it with you because–” he faltered, his eyes showing remorse, “all I can tell you is that they found what looks to be a gravesite.”

“How many?” Your voice was less than a whisper, and tears pooled in your eyes.

“I’m sorry, I…don’t know.”

You nodded against the pillow.

“A 2, almost 3-month case, that would have anyone feeling like they were suffocating. Especially agents such as yourself and Dr. Reid.” The therapist paused, assessing your expression, “You don’t seem fazed, though. Do you want to talk about it?”

You shifted, tugging the gloomy sleeves of your sweatshirt further downward, “I can’t think about it.”

“That’s completely understandable,” she nodded. The gray and blue room had your eyes falling shut. Your mind was cold, you didn’t know how to think without those memories surfacing. “You might want to shove those thoughts away, to shy away from them, but that is not how you are going to heal.” She shook her head, “It’s not going to be easy, but I’m here for you. And we can take this as slow as you need to.”

You shivered, he was a flash of a memory–you had to continuously tell yourself. He was still in custody awaiting trial.

It wasn’t enough.

“Are you cold?” Your therapist asked; she’d been handpicked by Deputy Director Baily himself.

You averted your gaze, “not particularly.”

Spencer knew it too–when he saw her on the bed, looking so helpless–he knew when he saw how she looked for him in the crowd and how his eyes landed on her as if she was his connection to the living.

But she was.

After coming to terms with everything they’d been through, Spencer knew he could trust her. Only when she was near did he know for sure he was him and only him.

He gripped the railing of his balcony; if he had the strength, he would have broken it without a moment's hesitation. He didn’t. Instead, the saint spritz in his hand twisted halfway. He chugged the rest, threw the can to the floor–remnants of alcohol hitting the concrete path–and stomped on it.

He heard the final crunch, he wondered if that’s what it would sound like to crush a bone. There were 206, not including teeth and small bones lost in tendons. Spencer yanked his sliding glass door open and walked back into his darkened apartment, not a single lamp on nor a single candle lit.

His eyes clamped shut, and he fell to his knees, gripping his temple as a sharp pain shot through his skull. In his demise, he couldn’t help but picture one face.

He swallowed and tried to pretend she was there, he tried to imagine her hand reaching out, stroking the wisps of hair at the back of his neck, whispering his name into his ear until he didn’t have it in him to question anything anymore.

Spencer reached for the pill bottle–still full since he’d been prescribed it. He had to remember where he was. he lifted his head, and his eyes caught on his reflection in the glass of the bottom of the shelf across the room. Inside were books, but rather than seeing them, he watched his dark, cold eyes look back at him in the blue night.

He ground his teeth and snarled at the image before him. His hands dropped from his side, and he turned away, now on all fours. He couldn’t barre to look at himself.

He loathed it.

The look of desperation.

A loud crash sounded throughout your flat. You gripped your hair and yanked, the pain forcing tears through your eyes. The oversized t-shirt fell to one side, and you could see the bra strap you were wearing. A bubble of whimpers wracked around you and you fell the the bathroom floor, the storm outside flickering across the mirror.

You curled in on yourself and rested your back against the wall near the open door. Disregarding the thunder, it was quiet; disregarding your thoughts, it was quiet.

Wails echoed around the space between you and the walls closing in. His hands. His hands were everywhere. They were crawling all over you–they were spiders, you were in a web built for girls just like you–and you–Oh God–

Your hand came up to your mouth as you pushed off the wall and crawled toward the toilet with one hand; the thin fabric of your pajama pants was not going to save you from any of the bruises you were attracting with your careless actions.

Your heavy breathing did nothing for the foul smell. It came and came again–you heaved again, but that was the end. Forcing yourself to your feet and flushing the vomit down the drain, you thought to call him.

It was a thought that had kept you up for the past few nights, even though you’d been able to sleep in your own bed. You had just been friends before, and not even good friends. You didn’t know; you couldn’t really remember at a time like this. Your palm ran over your mouth. You made a face–it reeked.

“Uh–” you fell forward and gripped the counter to right yourself, your head was pounding. You jumped, knocking your hairbrush to the floor–“God,” you breathed, heading for your phone. You swallowed, but it hurt; you were picking up a sore throat, cough drops–you steered toward the kitchen when another ring shot through your brain.

You spun around and beelined it for the phone you’d set on the table near your front door. Your fingers twitched, and your lips pressed together before you ultimately decided to pick it up and answer the call.

Quiet breathing, you could practically see the breath coating around the glass or blowing out smoke. You forced yourself to inhale and exhale, “...Spencer?”

A sound, almost like a sigh, could be heard from the other line. “Hey,” his voice was gruff, nearly identical to yours, only deeper.

“Hey,” you made your way back into the den, rounded your couch, and curled up in the corner, “are you okay?”

“–Yeah, just–” he cut himself off with another sigh, “just…can you meet?”

“Now?” you bit the nail on your thumb, checking the time on your phone, “it’s kind of late, no?”

“Yeah, but I–,” another pause and another sigh, “no, you’re right–

“You know what? It’s fine…I think I could use some company, too.” He kept quiet, and you grew a bit nervous, “Spencer? Where are you right now?”

“...Home…I’m at home.” He sounded as if he must have been crying, you couldn’t help but wonder if he, too, was being haunted.

“Okay,” you stood, your sore throat in the back of your mind now, “I’m on my way.”

Spencer raced to the door as soon as he heard the first knock. He reached for the handle, then pulled back as if stunned. He wondered if he looked alright, he hadn’t looked in the mirror since… He couldn’t. He just couldn’t. But maybe, with her here…

Spenc ran his hands through his greasy hair, trying to ignore the length it had grown to. “Hey,” she shook the plastic bag in her right hand, “I brought food.”

For the first time since the rescue, Spencer felt a sliver of a smile. “That smells delicious.” He stepped aside and through open his door, letting her and a bit of midnight into his already black abode.

“It’s dark,” she noted, taking a turn about his place. She wore a white cola t-shirt and a pair of pajama pants that couldn’t be warming her in any type of way. The smell of the Chinese food in the bag wafted through his apartment as he shut the door.

“You want me to turn a light on?” He turned back to her, feeling the oddest wave of calmness.

“No,” she snorted, sitting on one of her legs and letting the other dangle out in front of her.

Spencer wondered if she had gotten slightly used to the dark as well, for him, it was the only time he felt…real. He’d been going to therapy, recommended by the assistant director, but it’d only been a week now, and Spencer found himself still unable to sleep during the hours of dusk.

“Hey, Spence…” She bit her lip; he could see it in the little light that filtered in through his balcony windows.

“Yes?” Spencer took a seat across from her and leaned forward on a palm, not knowing how he looked in her eyes, but hoping it wasn’t as pathetic as he felt.

Her eyes glinted–they didn’t shine and that wasn’t to say she wasn’t pretty because she was–well, she was more than pretty and if Spencer analysed her features anymore–though he could only make out the features the were in the light and he had to imagine the rest–he’d be able to say exactly why she looked perfect.

And maybe a part of the reason Spencer thought that was biased, because she looked like him with the way her eyes were sunken–with the way they ahd adjusted to the night–and with the way she looked almost relived to see him–like she’d been living in a world of ghosts and he was the first real person she’d made contact with.

Beauty was subjective, always swaying a certain way in the eye of the beholder. Spencer liked to think he had an exceptionally fair rationale when it came to deciding where a person fell on the scale of beauty–but even he had to admit, he was probably being biased when it came to her, though he had no doubt others saw her just as such–she had that type of beauty that could only be found in castle in Rome and Greece.

From where he sat, she looked like she’d crawled out of an old Renaissance oil painting. It unnerved him, but he had to remind himself that she was real and he was real, and that this was reality–not fiction; not a campfire ghost story.

“What?” Spencer blinked. “You want to–”

She shook her head, “You don’t have to come with me, but I thought you should know.”

“Will they even allow it? I mean–”

“–I have to do this, Spencer…I…” her bottom lip quivered and she looked away. Spencer found himself reaching out, reaching out to make sure he was still there–that she was still there.

He breathed when he made contact. She glanced up, lips pursed in determination, but eyes watery, full of fear. A shuddering breath escaped him, “I know.”

She wallowed and nodded, and when she squeezed his hand, he felt tears prick the corners of his own eyes, “I knew you’d understand.”

His lips pulled together, and he tried not to break down right there–he wanted to confide in her like he had in that place. He was still struggling to grapple with the fact that he wasn’t Savino–that had been a persona he’d taken on. He knew that, and he told himself that daily, but with her, it just seemed so much easier to let go. Around her, he wasn’t fighting with his brain, he was still working out the why.

“…Spencer–

“–I’ll go with you.”

“Spencer–you don’t have to.”

“No, but I want to.” He tugged on her hand, and she smiled. He loved that smile, he always had…

“Ugh, you’re so annoying! Hotch, tell him to give it back!”

Hotch raised his eyebrows and shrugged, Morgan snickered in the back. You glared at him as Spencer raised the book higher–

“Come on! You guys, seriously! Oh–wait till Penelope gets here!”

“Oh uh uh,” Spencer grinned and wagged his finger in your face, “no snitching–”

“Snitcing?!” A goofy grin tugged at your lips. You glanced around at your coworkers–your friends and family–around Rossi’s kitchen.

It was noon in August; Morgan had convinced Rossi to host a barbecue. You had been in the middle of reading a spicy book, and Specner–the little rat!–had been silently reading it over your shoulders

Of course, his innocent mind couldn’t handle a little spice, so he’d called you out on it and snatched the book when you had denied and defended your case. “Spe-hencer–” you laughed, chasing him around the large, brown leather couch.

“–to talk to each other is buy a more animated–I thought this was supposed to be a classic–” he scoffed, his shit eating grin the last thing you needed to launch a pillow at him.

Rossi cleared his throat, having even Hotch straighten up, “uh–the term 'throw pillow' is not supposed to be taken literally.”

Laughter spilled from the memory. Spencer felt himself wishing he could go back in time; he felt his mind reaching out for the memory, not wanting to lose it, though despite his efforts, it slipped through his hands and faded away.

“What was that just now?” She tilted her head.” You looked so happy.” Her gentle smile nearly pushed Spencer over the edge. Was he not on a cliff already? Was he not underwater? He was suffering, but… “but then you looked so sad…”

Spencer didn’t know what to say. It was funny. He knew the rates of school shootings in America and every state individually. He knew so many violent facts, he knew so many things he wished he didn’t.

“Spencer?” A gasp. Where was he just now? In his head? What time was it? “Spencer…” he turned to the side, feeling something cold on his temples. Fingers, hands–” hey, it’s okay…” she murmured and ran her hands through his hair; they were cold, but they were the only thing Spencer wanted to feel.

“Thank you.” He heard. “Thank you,” he said.

“Oh, Spencer,” she pulled his head into her chest and murmured his name like a prayer–or maybe it was a wish. Spencer could die like this. He could die knowing who he was, but he didn’t want to. And that thought–that knowledge…he just wasn’t prepared to understand it.

You didn’t have a fear of flying. Taking off and your time in the air did not relatively affect you… It was the landing that had always gotten you to brace yourself. The slight jolt forward, that sinking your stomach did when it knew something was wrong–it all got you holding your breath and gripping the seat.’’

Spencer slipped his hand into yours, and your eyes fell to his. A tight-lipped smile and an expression that reassured you. You were not alone, and you were alive.

Despite yourself, you shivered and unbuckled your seatbelt.

The trial was meant to take place in two days. You had gotten clearance to watch it, but you weren’t sure you wanted to face him like that. If you were too weak and broke down in front of him— in a courtroom where you couldn’t show him just how much damage he’d done— you would never forgive yourself.

Spencer knew this, though he couldn’t relate exactly; he knew what it was to feel helpless, and though Bobefitz had gotten Spencer to feel more anger than he had ever thought possible, Spencer could never compare what he felt to what you did.

He could be angry for you, he could be sad, and livid, but he could never be able to speak for you, Spencer knew that better than anyone.

“Are you sure about this?” Spencer’s lips pressed together as you hailed a cab.

“I am,” you met his gaze with one unmoving. “Thank you again.”

“You don’t,” he shook his head, almost offended, “don’t thank me, please.”

“Why not?” you murmured, eyes tracking the cab pulling up to the two of you.

“Just,” a shuddering sigh fell from his mouth as you popped open the boot of the car and slid in your luggage.

“Well?” You smiled up and him, but it was all wrong.

It wasn’t real–he couldn’t look at it, he didn’t deserve to. He should have been faster, he should have–it should have been him! “You have nothing to thank me for,” he glanced away, voice low.

You went quiet, assessing his aura, “Spencer, are you okay?”

“What? Yes–”

“You’re lying,” you frowned, holding your hands behind your back. You couldn’t look at him, you could tell somewhere deep down he felt guilty–but how could you let him feel guilty when you felt guilty yourself? You should have been able to save her.

Your therapist had tried to convince you to stay home, but you owed it to her, and all of those other students who would never get a chance to say their peace–if you were the last of his victims, if you were the only one to make it out alive, then you owed it to them, you fellow victims–they were just children.

“Hey,” Spencer’s thumbs wiped across your face, “you’re crying, why are you crying? Do you want to go back?”

You shook your head, bottom lip wobbling, “I can still smell it.”

“What?” He leaned downward, pressing his ear to your lips.

You ran your hands through his tousled brown curls, you felt him tense a second before relaxing, his body almost melting into your hands, “her perfume, Spencer…”

Spencer’s attention snapped to his companion, his brain racing around the meaning behind her words. He hadn’t experienced what she’s experienced, and if she’d spoken about it, he hadn’t heard–logically, Spencer would have no idea what she was talking about–but she would know that, so why–

“I’m sorry,” she pulled away. Spencer held his breath, unsure if he’d be able to make sense of what she’d say next. She turned away and slipped into the cab. Spencer, despite himself, forced his throat to clear and follow her.

Rain pounded the window, and you sat at your small, circular table, eating cherries from a bowl and spitting the pits in another. The air was cold, but it smelled of coolness. It was morning, you could tell, though it had taken you a moment to figure it out.

A flash of dull yellow caught the corner of your eye, your head jerked, and you couldn’t move. You winced against the paralysis that had come over your body, and you grunted, fighting against the imaginary chains. A yelp flew from your mouth, and you began hyperventilating when Bobefitz's large face came into view.

You were trying to sit up, but he had you trapped in bed. Tear sprang up and dripped down your cheeks near your temple. “No,” you were saying, shaking your head against the hard pillow, “no, no–”

“–Are you okay?” He called your name, and you jerked awake. Hotel desk and chairs sat in front of you, to the side, another bed, right, you were with Spencer in Australia, in a hotel. You were in a queen-sized bed, not the skinny pallet made up in Gentry’s basement, and you were wearing your regular pajamas, not the white, cotton nightdress you wore in that place.

Spencer knelt beside you, though it didn’t appear he had been sleeping–if the still-made-up bed was anything to go by–you felt bad.

“You look pretty shaken up.” You watched his eyebrows furrow as he focused on your forehead. His hand lifted, and soon the back of his cold palm met your temple. “I guess you’re not coming down with something…but,” he looked down, and you followed his gaze. “You sweated through your clothes, do you have another pair?”

You sighed and held a hand to your chest, dropping your head. You didn’t want to think about that. Why couldn’t you just forget it all? Why were you plagued with remembering every single detail–and her smell–why was it–

“Hey, hey, don’t cry,” Spencer said, lifting you into his lap. “It’s okay, you’re okay,” but you didn’t feel okay. Why couldn’t you just feel okay? That–all that was a job; it wasn’t real!

But it was real. The story you’d given had been fake, but the experience? The victimization, the helplessness? That had all been real, and for some reason, everyone but yourself could come to terms with that. “How long have I been asleep?” You panted, rubbing water and crust from your eyes. You felt sick, like you might throw up, but it didn’t faze you much anymore.

Spencer glanced at his wristwatch. You squinted at his pursed lips. Your hand was outstretched before you knew what you were doing.

Spencer flinched, his eyes tracing your hands up to your chin, your lip, your eyes–your lips–your eyes again. His breath caught as he took in your tearstained face. He shouldn’t be having impure thoughts, not like this and certainly not now, especially with all you’ve been through. Despite knowing this, however, his throat still went dry with fantasies of kissing you.

“Spencer?” He coughed. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” he cast his gaze downward, he felt horrible–this wasn’t him. It couldn’t be him. It was sick–oh God…was he sick? Did it all fuck him up more than he’d led on? More than he could tell? Spencer bolted for the bathroom, and you jumped, standing to chase after him.

You stopped in the middle of the room, the world spinning and pain wreaking havoc on your mind. “Spencer!” Holding the other one out for balance, you pressed a hand to your head.

Slowly, you went to the bathroom door, shivering at the cold, blue morning. It might have been morning, it was either really late or really early, though you weren’t inclined to dwell on it much longer.

“Spencer!” Your fists collided with the weak wooden door. " What’s—” you huffed, pausing to catch your breath. It was quiet for the most part; the only sounds evident were your breathing and whatever Spencer was doing on the other side of the door.

“Just a se–” you pressed your left ear to the door, trying to focus.

“Are–Are you oka–”

“Eugh,” he was not. Spencer was throwing up whatever he’d eaten in the past twelve hours.

He was a devil. There were so many cruel things in this world, people without human sympathy, the cruelest. How could he sit there? How could he sit there with a grin on his face and lack any and all emotion? He wasn’t even trying to hide the fact that he’d hurt so many people, so many children.

It made you sick–he made you sick. Spencer led you down the aisle. You turned at the very front and sat right behind the prosecution table. You hadn’t eaten anything. You couldn’t. You knew it was bad for you, but this morning, you thought one more day wouldn’t be too bad.

The courtroom seemed to expand. It was a sea of fish and sharks, a field of wolves and sheep.

Bobefitz stood and pleaded not guilty. You didn’t understand how he thought he’d get away with it. Despite believing they hadn’t cared for their kids, the families of the victims littered the area around you. When he approached the stand and sat, his eyes fell to yours. You wanted to look away, tears pooled in your eyes. It was the first time you realized you were afraid.

You were angry, and hurt, and you felt guilty for not being able to save Avice. You hadn’t been able to look to see if her parents had arrived, and you couldn’t face them. What if she had her mother’s face? What if she had her father's eyes? What if she spoke as they would in sync?

Bobefitz stared you down. Your bottom lip trembled. You had never hated someone so much as you did the man in front of you. With each statement made by each party, it felt like the walls were getting smaller and smaller, your breathing grew rapid, and the people around you began to fade away, leaving only you and Bobefitz.

You gasped, recoiling at Spencer’s touch. He snatched his hand back and gave you a once-over, not looking offended, but unsure of what your actions meant. You watched his lips press together–you knew that meant he was having a debate with himself in his head. He glanced toward Bobefitz for a second, still sitting on the stand.

You wanted to stay, Spencer knew better than anyone how much it meant for you to state and face him, not just for yourself but for all the others. But Spencer couldn’t let you continue if it meant risking your health. You were likely oblivious to the fact that you were crying, and that had Spencer’s stomach on fire. He’d thought he might throw u again, or that perhaps you might.

“Spencer?” You reached for his hand, his eyes fell to where your skin met his, his name echoing within the space between you.

“I’m here,” he squeezed once, then again. And he always would be.

You wiped your tears, tugging Spencer closer. He wrapped his arms around you as you muffled your whimpers into his shoulder. He caught the sound of sniffles and then, “I want him dead.”

Spencer tensed, pulling back to look you in the eye. There was something in them, something he could only describe as destruction, and for a second, he thought he’d lost consciousness. He nodded, swallowing down the knowledge that he would never say no to you ever again, that for him it was physically impossible. “Okay, how?”

a/n: don't hate me for this ending

@bmyva1entine @darkmatilda @theylovemelody @kennedy-brooke @maisyyyyyy @mggspo @3amcloudss @23moonjellies @watercolorskyy

#spencer reid #criminal minds #fanfic #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid criminal minds #spencer reid fanfic #criminal minds fanfic #dr spencer reid #doctor spencer reid #spencer reid x you #spencer reid angst #bau team #dr reid #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid fluff(?)#haunted #written by katherine

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paxaz535 · 2 months ago

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UNBELIEVABLE (3)

pazzixtransfer!reader

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note: SO SO SORRY IT TOOK ME SO LONGGG i was having such a writers block about this chapter but I finally figured it out! I hope you enjoy (p.s it’s kinda short sorry!)

“What exactly happened?”

Geno’s voice could be heard as he and you sat in his office. your face was wet and your eyes were swollen from all the tears that were falling down.

it had been the next day since everything had gone down and Geno was starting to notice the tension at practice. “That Charlotte girl. It all goes back to her.” Geno looked at you, waiting for you to continue.

you were fiddling around with your fingers and biting your lip. you were anxious to say the least, because you told Geno about transferring yesterday when you went to his office.

“I didn’t even know her.. she came up to me asking to fix my car and I let her because I was gonna be late to practice,” you sighed. “Then later on we had went to ted’s and she was there. but she was all over paige and azzi and it was strange.”

you continued on telling him what exactly happened and hoped that he’d understood why you wanted to transfer. When you finished, he sat up straighter and put his elbows on the desk. “Listen, pumpkin.”

your eyes snapped to his, his voice soft but firm. “You are one of our best players we’ve got. And I’m sorry to hear about what happened but you cannot let that affect your game. I chose you because I know we can win a ring with you. I chose you because I know how much of a good player you are. you were born to be a husky.”

your eyes were burning, the tears flowing down as each word left his mouth. He was right, you’re a sharp shooter on the team. you never really miss your shots and you couldn’t be guarded. you sighed, “Say that I don’t transfer, what are we gonna do? the dynamic isn’t the same anymore. you saw today.” Geno kept quiet, his eyes still on you.

“I have an idea.”

you couldn’t be anymore upset with geno.

you found yourself in a room with the entire team including the red head girl who started this dumb mess in the first place. you were on one side while they were on the other. you felt isolated and it sucked. and to make things worse, Charlotte was still by paige and azzi.

you didn’t even know if you were still together and it was draining you. you missed them and you hated that it had to turn into this whole thing. the room was filled with tension and awkwardness, it was almost painful.

you were fiddling with your fingers, your face emotionless. a cough interrupted the silence which made you look up to see eyes on you. you immediately looked back to your fingers, your lips pursed.

“Well? Talk it out, you got until 8 tonight.” Geno spoke. You looked up at him, “8? It’s 12! I think i have some work I need to do-“ Geno just put his hand up. “No excuses, pumpkin. you all better make up. I didn’t end practice early for nothing.” He walked towards the door and left, the door being heard shut. you huffed before crossing your arms and looking at the ceiling.

Silence was still in the room until Charlotte finally spoke. “So… are you gonna talk?” Everyone looked at her, including you. you had your eyebrows furrowed and just blinked at her. “What?” She looked around to see everyone’s eyes.

you rolled your eyes before scoffing, “If anyone should be talking, it’s you. let’s not forget who’s fault this is.” Charlotte groaned before abruptly standing up. “You sound childish blaming this on me, you’re crazy.” Her body language made you sit up and raise an eyebrow.

“Girl, sit down.” Aubrey spoke as she noticed the way you were looking at her. Charlotte scoffed and listened, you immediately going back to slouching against the spinning chair. ‘Exactly’

“I’m still so confused on what even happened.” Caroline said as she looked at you.

you swallowed and looked at Charlotte. “You wanna explain? or should I?” Charlotte was about to open her mouth but you stopped her, “Matter of fact, I’ll explain it.” You smiled sarcastically and sat up again, crossing your hands together. You blinked your eyes as you looked at everyone.

“To sum it up for you, Caroline, Charlotte’s a two faced bitch who has an obsession with my girlfriends and can’t take a fucking hint.” You purposely looked at Charlotte when you insulted her. Charlotte glared at you and crossed her arms. “Fuck you.” You shook your head and slammed your hands on the table.

“No, fuck you Charlotte! you’re a weirdo,” you looked at paige and azzi and they had guilty looks on their faces. “And i’m not even gonna completely blame it on you. You two chose to lead her on and make her think she had a chance.” Azzi was quick to speak up. “Pumpkin, we were just being friendly. I swear it wasn’t-“

You laughed, even though nothing was funny in the slightest way. “That’s the problem, Az. I get it, she’s just now meeting everyone but how could you not see the way she was looking at you? She wants you and it’s so obvious.”

Azzi looked over at Charlotte before back at you. “Go ahead and tell them what you told me the night of dinner.” Charlotte looked everywhere but at anyone, embarrassed at the attention on her. “Say it!”

“Okay! Fuck!” She uncrossed her arms and sighed, before looking up. “I said that she doesn’t belong to uconn and she should just go back to Iowa.” Soft gasps could be heard, but you knew she was leaving something out.

“what else?” Charlotte rolled her eyes and huffed, “And that she doesn’t deserve paige and azzi to herself.” Azzi and Paige both looked at the girl, disbelief on their faces. “What the fuck, Charlotte?” The blonde exclaimed.

“That’s fucked up.. and I liked you girl.” Kk spoke up as she crossed her arms. you just stared blankly at the girl, thoughts running through your mind. “You’re so lucky I won’t fuck you up. You got away with too much shit.” You spoke, a glare on your face. Charlotte put her hands up mockingly, rolling her eyes as she looked at the wall beside her.

“What’s wrong with you?” Caroline asked as she looked at the girl. “She’s a jealous ho.” You muttered but loudly for her to hear. Charlotte’s head snapped at you, “I’m not jealous! There’s nothing to be jealous about,” Everyone looked at her with a straight face.

“What? I’m serious. This still doesn’t change my opinion on her, she needs to go back to Iowa. They need her more than we do.” She shrugged. You chuckled sarcastically before shaking your head. “Yo, get yall friend.” Morgan shook her head, “That is not our friend. Not anymore at least.” Charlotte rolled her eyes, “Whatever.”

“Pumpkin.”

you looked at Allie, her face slightly pale. “You’re not leaving.. are you?” You looked down at your hands, the silence making everyone nervous. you were still kind of thinking about it, the thought didn’t disappear.

“I was adamant on it yesterday.. I’m surprised coach got me to sit down and talk to him.” The girls all looked at you, waiting for you to continue, “I won’t lie, i’m still thinking about it.” Some of the girls faces dropped, others sucking in a breath.

You could feel yourself starting to get emotional but you told yourself you wouldn’t let a single tear drop. “You guys hurt me. and I couldn’t believe you would even do something like this. Especially you two.” You pointed towards the two seniors. “We’re so sorry baby, I promise-“ You put a hand up, cutting the blonde off.

“Just.. let me finish.” She nodded, her eyes never leaving you. “I’ll stay,” Everyone let out sighs of relief. You wanted to smile but bit your lip. “But It’s going to take some time for me to recover from this. So from now on, I’ll need time to myself.” Qadance was quick to question.

“What about practice?” You cracked your knuckles as you glanced at her. “That’ll be the only time I’ll probably talk to yall.” Azzi and Paige continued to look at you, they wanted to talk to you privately about where the three of you stand. “Don’t you think that’s a little dramatic?” You looked at the red head, your face straight.

“Don’t you think you should shut the fuck up and get a life?” Aubrey was quick to butt in again, for the sake of Charlotte’s life. “Alright, Charlotte I think it’s best if you leave.” You smiled at Aubrey, grateful.

Truth was, you wanted to talk to the two seniors as well. you needed to know what was going on with you all. “Can I have a second with paige and azzi real quick?” Everyone understood and began emptying the room, Allie being the last one. She stood by the door and looked at you. “I’m really glad you’re staying, pumpkin.” You genuinely smiled at the freshman, she’s been by your side more than anyone else these past few days and you were forever grateful.

“Come by mines later, yea?” She nodded and closed the door. Paige and Azzi came to sit in front of you, the table dividing you. “Baby.” You looked up at them. Your eyes were watering up again. “Don’t.. don’t call me that right now. Please.” Azzi and Paige heart hurts for you. They never meant to make you feel this way and they hated themselves for it.

“We’re so sorry, pumpkin.” Azzi spoke as she put her hands on the table, her face apologetic. you let a few tears fall. you didn’t wanna cry in front of the team but crying in front of them wasn’t anything new. “I thought you guys got tired of me.” They looked at you, their faces filled with pain. “I thought you didn’t leave me anymore.”

you wiped a tear and sniffled, looking at the two. “She said you were only with me cause you felt bad.” Paige was quick to sit up, her eye brows furrowed. “You know that’s not true, pumpkin. We love you. you’ve helped us with so much shit and we couldn’t be more grateful.” Azzi nodding, “We were stupid to let her get that close.” You sniffled some more, the tears didn’t stop though.

“You know it’s gonna take a while for us to get back how we were, right?” The two sighed but nodded, they couldn’t blame anyone but themselves. “I’m not saying we’re breaking up. But it’s going to be different from now. I also love you both too much to let yall go.” The two looked at each other before chuckling , a small grin on their face. They still had their favorite girl, and they were gonna make sure they wouldn’t do anything else to break your trust.

“How is everything?” Allie asked you. She wanted you to brush her hair so she could style it, plus you wanted to brush it. You were humming to a sza song, the question stopping you. “Uh.. i think okay? I mean- i told them it’s gonna take a while for me to forgive them so.” Allie hummed, her attention on the tv.

“I’m just glad we all got to sit down and talk. i don’t know what i’d do if you left,” your heart warmed. “Allie..” She blushed before fiddling her fingers, “You’re one of the seniors ive grown close with.” You giggled, forever grateful for this lovely young woman.

“I’m glad we grew a bond,” you brushed out the last few tangled hairs and sighed. “Finished. What are you going to do with it?” Allie thought about it for a moment before looking at you. “Maybe just two dutch braids. Something to keep out my face,” You gasped, immediately picturing her with them in her head.

“Those’ll eat,” Your stomach growled. “Speaking of eating, you hungry?” Allie nodded, a groan escaping her. you immediately grabbed your keys and your phone. “What are you feeling?”

Allie smirked. You just laughed, already knowing what she wanted to get. You weren’t complaining, you kinda wanted it too. “The usual, right?” She nodded and began to start on her. You walked out the dorm, immediately heading towards your car.

When you pulled back up to the dorms, you were not expecting to see what you saw.

or rather, who.

You got out of your car and slammed the door, seeing the girl made you upset. She was sitting on the door step with her arms crossed, she looked bothered.

“What do you want?”

The red head looked up, her face slightly dropping when she saw you. “I’m just here to talk to you.” you scoffed and shook your head, the food in your hand making your arm tired. “Really?”

She hesitated and nodded, uncrossing her arms. She stood up and looked at you, “I just wanna apologize for everything. I didn’t mean to-“ You could see through her bullshit. It was like glass.

“I can tell you’re not being genuine and it’s outrageous, Charlotte.” She opened her mouth to speak, you threw her off guard. “You don’t care about me. You don’t even know me.” The girl closed her mouth before looking down.

“You’re right, I don’t know you,” you looked at her, waiting for a continuation. She looked back up at you, “that doesn’t mean my actions are justified, though.” you hummed, you can give her one thing. She was at least mature enough to apologize to you and you were grateful for that.

“I know if I were in your shoes, I’d feel the same way.” you nodded, your face still showing aggravation. “Thank you for apologizing.” She sighed and nodded, picking at her fingers.

“But I don’t think we can be cool.”

She looked up. Your face was still the same, looking the girl dead in the eye. “Not after all that. Not after I almost lost the loves of my life because of you.”

She let out a shaky breath, she had a feeling that this was gonna happen, but she’s just glad she’d at least apologized. “Have a nice night, Charlotte.” you walked past her and into the dorms, leaving her out there with her thoughts.

2 weeks later

it had been two weeks since everything happened. practice was.. something but it wasn’t terrible. You figured out how to separate your personal life from your sport life and it played off for a while.

you noticed something though. After two days ago, Allie has been distant. She barely replied to your messages, she didn’t really talk to you at the practices and it was messing with you. did you do something wrong? Did she believe the words that Charlotte said and it just hit her now?

you were scared, she was the only person who you talked to after everything. she was the only person who been there for you through everything. you tried to talk to her post practice in the locker room but she just grabbed her things and left.

you officially felt alone. for Allie to stop talking to you was painful because now you literally weren’t talking to anyone. you felt like an outcast, just like you did at Iowa.

they were treating you like how you were being treated at Iowa.

and it sucked.

you wondered if they knew, wondered how they felt. If you remembered, you were the one who was being mistreated so why are they ignoring you?

you was on your bed, looking at the ceiling of the room. Just thinking.. thinking maybe it isn’t too late to transfer. you didn’t know where, but somewhere that wasn’t here. you obviously didn’t belong. Just like Charlotte said. You started to overthink which made you shed a few tears.

you were about to fall asleep when you heard a knock at the door. you shot up, could it have been Allie? Paige? Azzi? Hell, even Kk? Just someone? You kept put, waiting to see if they’d knock again.

Nothing.

So you just decided to get up anyways, walking towards your door. you looked through the peephole and saw nothing. Huh?

you opened it to be met with an empty hallway. You looked to the left to see a trail of purple flowers on the floor, going towards a room all the way down the hallway.

“What the hell?” you followed the trail, you were a bit scared. what were you expecting? Anything or anyone could pop out, you weren’t a fan of those things. as you made your way to the door, it was a sign on it.

‘Pumpkin Only’

Your face was confused. As you went to twist the door knob, the door opened and it was dark. Your heart dropped, what the hell was actually going on?

As you closed the door, you weren’t expecting to be surprised by the whole team. You screamed, tears still on your face from earlier. “SURPRISE!”

you looked around to see everyone with smiles. it made you cry harder, they were trying to get your forgiveness. and it was working.

you looked at the sign that was above everyone and chuckled.

“Welcome Back? I never left.” The girls just shrugged, “We know. But you could’ve and were glad you didn’t.” Allie spoke. So that’s why she was ignoring you. You smiled sadly and let out a small sob.

“you guys are so stupid. this is cute.” everyone awned and came to give you a hug. “We’re so sorry, pumpkin. We didn’t mean to neglect your feelings,” Kk spoke. You chuckled, “It’s okay. I forgive you guys, it’s been too long.”

Everyone laughed and pulled away, looking at you. You looked around a bit more, decorations all around the room, a cake on the counter and snacks on the table. “Yall really went all out, huh?” Ashlynn giggled while Paige and Ice pointed at her. “You know Ash, always gotta do it big.” You laughed and hugged the brunette, thankful for her.

“Come here.” Paige spoke as she pulled you and Azzi into a hug. The girls around you awed as they watch the three of you. “We love you so much, pump.” You smiled, going in to kiss the two. “I love you too.”

You were happy that everyone chose to do this for you. It showed you that they cared, that they loved you so much.

you were so grateful.

they’re the best team you could ask for and you knew this was just a step backwards to move forwards and grow stronger.

#uconn wbb #uconn women’s basketball #basketball #paige bueckers #uconn huskies #this is what makes us girls #azzi fudd #pazzi #paige bueckers x oc #pazzi x reader #paige bueckers fic #azzi fudd fic

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