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blossomarlia · 29 days ago

Note

hi, could you write a drabble with reader x remus where she rlly struggles with getting involved or going to hang out with people without explicitly being invited (just feeling really worried about being rejected) and he kind of reassures her and looks after her?

hi, thanks for this request! hope you enjoy, i generally don't write school-aged drabbles but thought this fit the best.

summary: your fear of being rejected stops you from joining your friends, but remus reassures you

remus x fem! reader (implied early stages romance)

Sitting by one of the fireplaces in the Gryffindor common room, you’re wondering how many of the people around you have exchanged glances over the top of your head. You can almost feel judgement thickening the air, raised eyebrows and confused smiles that ask why is she even here? To be honest, the only reason that you haven’t moved away is that you were technically sitting here first, and the rest of them milled in and took their spots nearby- then again, was it purposeful, your taking a place on one of the sofas they often use? In hindsight it’s just embarrassing. They must be assuming that you sat down just so they’d have no choice but to talk to you.

You know you’re expecting the worst of this group, none of whom particularly deserve it. The flock of seventh-years surrounding you are generally a good bunch; Lily, Sirius, Marlene, Mary, Peter, James, Remus, and Dorcas,. You want to be one of them more than you want most other things, which is somewhat pathetic and completely obvious in the way you’re always hanging around. They may all be lovely, and your friends (to some extent), but you know how irritating it can be if there’s always someone not quite in the group hanging around.

You should leave. Get up and make some comment about homework, or whatever, and wait for absolutely nobody to stop you. It’s kinder to everybody. Isn’t it?

Lost in your thoughts, you miss what Lily says next, and then they’re all getting to their feet. You give what you hope is a casual smile, simultaneously relieved of your spiralling and disappointed that they’re fulfilling your expectations.

There’s a tap on your shoulder- Remus, your favourite, whose hair has grown out over Christmas and now curls over his ears. He seems to get taller and lovelier with every passing moment. It’s difficult to make eye contact.

“We’re heading to the greenhouses, did you hear?” He says quietly, hand stilling instead of pulling away. You press your lips together and nod, carefully hiding any sort of misplaced hurt. It’s not as if you’re entitled to an invitation.

“Alright, I’ll see you later!” Too enthusiastic.

His brows pinch together. “You’re not coming?”

You look up at the others, who are collecting scarves and bags on their way to the portrait-hole. How can you admit to Remus that you don’t think they want you along? How can you tell him, anyone, that you’re far too afraid of being made fun of, or becoming a joke within their tight-knit group, to risk it?

“Oh, I don’t know. I have heaps of homework.”

“You do?” He raises his eyebrows. You feel caught, despite not having been accused of any sort of lie. “I thought you finished it all yesterday.”

You’d been studying when he and Lily joined you, and all day you’ve been wondering why they chose to. You probably put a but too much value on people choosing to sit next to you in class or during study; it’s unlikely that it was more than an absence of other free tables.

“...Some, yeah. And I wouldn’t want to- you know, I wouldn’t…” You trail off and give an awkward laugh. Remus’ gentle expression is making the inside of your mouth hurt.

“What?” You’re not used to your excuses mattering so much. Mostly, you mutter something and disappear to your dorm in time to avoid any drama. Is he feeling guilty, awkward about having made plans as a group in front of someone else? You cringe at the notion of Remus realising how friendless you probably are, of his pity.

You know it’s your own fault for being like this. You’ve had friends in the past- cool, funny, popular, attractive- who frequently left you out on purpose. A drunken conversation in fifth year revealed that you were tolerable at best, a joke at worst. Always pushing in and so desperate for invitations that to extend them could only be ironic.

You think about that more often than you should. You’re constantly hyperaware of how tolerable you are, sure that you’ll say or do something which will make everyone else realise exactly why you’re not in any particular group. You can’t let that happen yet with all these people, so full of love for one another that even proximity to them feels like the experience of it. Still, they’re teenagers. Judgement is an automatic response, and Remus is clever in the way he jokes. He’ll retell this conversation to roaring laughter if you reveal too much- not that he’s ever unkind, but you sort of invite a bad impression, you think.

“It’s really fine,” You assure him. “I’m tired. It’s cold, too.”

“Right,” He nods, glancing downwards. You think you’ve won (as much as you can win, here) until he turns to James and Peter and says, “I think we’re going to stay here. Bit chilly.”

What?

James frowns, making a sound of protest. “Moony!” His eyes fall to you next, and you look away, guilty and embarrassed. You’d never even considered that pity would drive Remus to actually stay here, and now they’ll all hate you. Nice job, very well handled.

Marlene is next. “‘Cas has just finished growing the Alihotsy plant, though. We’re all going.”

“It’s been weeks since we all had the evening off- or at least, since Potter and Black didn’t have a detention each,” Lily reasons more kindly. She receives twin protests from the boys on either side of her, but remains unbothered, adding, “It’d be nice to spend a bit more time as a group.”

You’re awfully close to tears. All you’d wanted was to relieve them of yourself, to retreat to your room and wait until somebody explicitly invited you somewhere (if ever), and now you’ve gone and ruined everybody’s evening. You turn to Remus, more urgent than is likely normal. “Please just go with them,” You say softly, aware that your voice is all wobbly. “I’m just going to go to bed, I don’t want to interrupt all of you catching up. Please, it’s really okay.”

There’s a brief silence that spans the entire crowd. They’ve all heard, are all likely attempting not to laugh. Remus is giving you an awful look.

“...Are you okay, lovely?” Mary asks. You can’t look at her, can’t look at any of them, but you’ve always been alright at masking emotion in your voice when you really try. You force something like a smile.

“Yes! Yes, completely fine, I’m only tired. Post-holiday blues, maybe.” You laugh and it sounds terrible. “I’ve really only got to go to bed. You all have fun!” Silence again.

“We might join you all in a bit,” Remus says firmly. There are a few worried noises of assent, and they all head off. Now, you do see them looking at one another, frowning and looking upset. Poor Remus, you imagine them saying on their way to the greenhouses, stuck looking after her while we all escape.

Remus asks you to sit down again three times before you agree, still rather set on going to bed so you won’t cry in front of the entire common-room.

“What’s making you so upset?” He asks softly, once he’s finally detained you. You blink quickly and cast a glance around at the other students in the common-room, afraid to embarrass yourself more than you already have, but he’s quick to assuage the fear. “I cast a muffliato when James began talking about the Alihotsy prank- ages ago. Nobody’s heard anything, I promise.”

You swallow harshly. “Oh. Thanks. I’m sorry I’m being so- so-”

“If I could,” Remus says, firm but kind, “This will be a lot easier if we can get to the problem, here, rather than whatever you think you’ve done wrong.”

“I- right. Okay. Um,” You stammer. “They’re not really mutually exclusive.” “Why don’t you want to come? Did somebody say something hurtful?” You look at him, slightly startled. “What? It’s not that I don’t want to.”

Remus seems perplexed, looking the way he does when he’s working out a particularly difficult exam question. “No?”

“No.” You twist your fingers together so tightly that they hurt. “No, it sounds fun, it just… it’s not as if I’m going to demand to be brought along, am I?” The joke falls flat. You think you already knew it would, but it’s still a bit embarrassing to laugh and be met with a concerned frown.

You take a few longer breaths. You can fix this. You have to fix this.

“Look, it’s kind of you to stay here, but like Lily said- you all have the night off. It’s really not so bad not to spend it as a group. I want you to go, really.” The next smile is easier. You’ve done this before, convinced people not to feel bad for you.

“Why would you need to demand to be brought along?” Remus asks. “We made the plans while you were right here.”

“You all made plans together,” You explain slowly. “You know, having an evening to yourselves and that sort of thing. There’s no need for- you know, I’m honestly just tired. That’s probably why I’ve reacted so oddly, it’s my own fault.”

Remus looks at you for a long while, so intent that your skin gets prickly and uncomfortable. Eventually, he speaks, quiet and considered. “...You haven’t acted oddly if that’s how you’ve been feeling.”

“Tired?”

“No, excluded.” He says gently. “You really didn’t know you were invited?” You don’t answer with more than silence, and he sighs.

“You were. You’re always invited, dove, of course you are.”

Trying not to get to hung up on impossibilities, you shake your head quickly. “It’d be a bit rude to assume that.”

“It wouldn’t.” Remus replies immediately. Then, “Dove, what are we going to do with you?” Entirely too much to comprehend. You’re glad he goes on. “Would you look at me for a moment, please?”

You want to ask him why, or refuse, or run up to your dormitory, but you do as he says. You wonder if he knows that he could ask you to do almost anything and you’d say yes, if he’ll only keep looking at you with his coffee-coloured eyes.

“All of us- we want you to come along, wherever we are. You’re important to lots of people. Do you understand that?” “I- I just don’t want to push myself in.” You say, mortified.

“You aren’t. You’re being pulled, if anything, yeah?” His lips quirk. “When Lily said those things about spending time as a group, she meant you, too. If somebody said something that made you think otherwise, I’ll-”

“Nobody said anything,” You tell him feebly. This is all rather a lot to take in. “I think… maybe it’s more that nobody’s said I am invited, or a part of- I don’t know, it’s all sort of stupid.”

“No it’s not,” Remus disagrees. He pinches your chin quickly between thumb and forefinger, frowning again. Mary once commented that Remus would look sixty by the time you all left school, with all his worrying wrinkles. “Not stupid, but it’s not very kind to yourself, either. Why shouldn’t we want you around?”

You open your mouth and close it at his raised eyebrow. “Rhetorical question?”

“Rhetorical question.” He confirms amusedly. “There’s no point arguing, because we do. I do. I wish you wouldn’t think otherwise.”

“I’ve only been friends with all of you for a little while, though. You’ve all been mates since first-year.” At that, Remus outright scoffs. “Have we, now?”

You shrug.

“James and Lily always liked each other, then? Dorcas didn’t only just start hanging around us as well?” You look down, and he sighs. “However long everybody’s known one another, the most important bit is that we all like each other, yeah? It wouldn’t matter whether we became mates at eleven or two days ago- we’re friends. Or- you know.”

You definitely don’t know, but you’re going red anyway. He was definitely talking about Lily and James- that’s all he meant by ‘you know’. Isn’t it?

Remus scratches the back of his head, quiet for another second. Then, “...Why don’t we go down to the greenhouses? We’ll stick together the whole time, you’ll not be sat by yourself again.”

“I don’t want to make you babysit.”

Remus tsks, expression becoming sterner for a moment. “Don’t think that way about yourself. I’m asking because I want you to come- it’s not worth going if you aren’t there.”

The long moment it takes for you to decipher whether he’s only being nice or if that’s the truth is enough for Remus to decide that you don’t really have a choice in the matter. Tugging you to your feet, and seeming taller than ever with your proximity, he winds his own scarf around your neck and pushes some hair behind your hear. You let him, mostly because you’re too surprised to do anything about it.

“Let’s go, before they all decide to try some of the Alihotsy themselves. Gloves?”

You manage a nervous giggle, putting your mittens on when he hands them to you. “Thanks.”

“That’s alright. Come on,” He gives you a crooked sort of smile. It’s sometimes difficult to tell if Remus is aware how good-looking he is.

The entire group are far too enthusiastic at yours and Remus’ arrival fifteen minutes later, given the fact that it’s hardly been half an hour since they left. Either way, you’re quickly pulled into a squabble between Lily and James about- as Remus predicted- the logic of trying some Alihotsy for themselves.

“Thank Merlin you came, you’re the only one who won’t be completely daft about this!” Lily says, linking her arm in yours. You smile before catching Remus’ eye and looking down, feeling yourself flush. Smug bastard, you think fondly.

It’s an entire two hours before everyone heads back up to the castle, having thoroughly violated curfew but without (to James and Sirius’ chagrin) having tested any of the plant which would induce hysterical laughter. You find yourself walking beside the tallest of the group in comfortable silence, a few steps behind the rest.

“Thanks for making me come with you,” You say, perhaps a little more earnestly than you ought. “It was really nice.”

“‘Course, dove.” You look up at Remus to find he’s already looking at you. He clears his throat, glancing over at Sirius and Marlene where they’re pretending to push each other into the snow. It’s likely to end in one of them following through and the other swearing eternal hatred. “We’re all glad you came along. Could even make a habit of it.”

You exhale a laugh. “Maybe.”

He gives you a sideways look. “Oh, ‘maybe’, is it?” “...Conceivably?” You grin, darting away when he grabs at you and sort of wishing you’d stayed still just to see what he’d do. Remus fixes you with a teasing glare.

“Watch it, sweetheart.”

You blink, choking on words for a minute. Sweetheart? Sweetheart!? Sweetheart, sweetheart, sweetheartsweetheartsweetheartsweetheart-

“You alright?”

“Yeah!” You say, too quickly. Remus misreads your flusteredness as something else and softens, taking hold of your sleeve and tugging you towards him. You go easily.

“If it’ll help,” He says thoughtfully, “You can ask me if you’re invited to things. Or I’ll just tell you. Then you won’t have to go to the trouble of assuming either way.”

You like him so, so much. “That’s really nice of you, Remus.”

“Eh,” He shrugs. “You know me.”

Now, it’s harder not to smile than anything else. “I don’t want you to go to any trouble. It’s really my problem, I shouldn’t-”

“Enough,” He interrupts gently. “Just say yes, dove, if it’ll help. I won’t be unhappy either way.”There are several places within you, the more unkind parts, that say accepting his offer would be like accepting pity. But there are also places that are warmed at the thought, that remember how people reacted when you arrived in the greenhouse, that can start imagining a reality wherein nobody hated your presence by the sofas tonight, and those bits win the argument for the first time in a very long time. You look up at Remus, his soft eyes and fluffy hair dusted with snow, and nod.

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prael · 2 months ago

Text

Nerves

Newjeans Hanni x male reader smut

I had a bit of a moment just now.

Masterlist word count: 1,356 Kofi(donations/commissions)

Nerves can make or break a person; too little and you can become careless, while too many can cripple you.

"I've done shows before, but I can't help but worry if it'll go well," says Hanni.

"There's little more you can do to prepare now. You know what you need to say and you'll look beautiful while doing it," you reassure.

"I'm still so nervous," she replies.

"You still have twenty minutes until it starts," you tell her. "What could you do in twenty minutes?"

"Oh, I could think of a few things," she answers. She's right, there's time for something.

"You know I'd help with anything you need," you say.

Hanni leans against the wall and thinks for a moment, before looking back at you. "Usually we have a little more time than this."

"For you, I can work fast," you respond.

Hanni bites her lip. "I think I might have an idea, then." She walks towards you and wraps her arms around your neck. "You sure you can? We'll have to skip the foreplay."

You put your hands on her hips. "Whatever it is, I'm game."

She grins at your reply and moves in for a kiss. Her lips press against yours and the two of you quickly get into the familiar rhythm. You pull her body close and her hands find their way under your shirt.

Your hands drift down to her ass and you squeeze it, eliciting a moan from Hanni. She's wearing this wonderful two-piece dress. Dark blue fabrics, it's special, but it's so annoyingly inaccessible. Normally you'd pull up her skirt, flip up her dress and push her against the wall.

"The stylist couldn't be a little more considerate," you jest as you bury your hand through the layered fabric to find the zipper at her hip.

"She's more focused on the fashion, rather than how easily you can reach my cunt," Hanni laughs.

You get the zip open enough to let it fall and bunch at her knees. Underneath, she's wearing this tight black thong that's so thin you can see the lips of her pussy. The material's already damp with her excitement. It slips so far up between her round cheeks that you can't see it.

Hanni pulls you in closer, her hand sliding down the front of your pants. She moans against your mouth as her fingers wrap around your cock. Normally, there's some method to the madness. An exchange of kisses and handiwork, before you take turns falling to your knees. It's a slow and careful process of teasing. You don't have that luxury right now.

You turn her to the desk; her face close to her reflection as you push into her bare lower back and bend her over. She grips the edge and looks at you in the reflection, bearing down on her.

"I've always wanted to fuck you as a blonde," you tell her.

She grins, biting her bottom lip. With her legs pushed together and her dress bunched at her knees, the angle is awkward. She's tight, and the position is only going to make her tighter.

"You're already soaked," you murmur as you push aside her thong and stroke your finger against her folds. She moans as you push your finger into her, her grip on the table's edge tightening.

"Oh, just like that," she sighs.

You start a quick rhythm, her hips grinding against the intrusion. She's so warm and inviting, her juices beginning to coat your finger. She's already worked up, and her cunt is practically dripping.

"Fuck me," she moans.

You're slipping your cock out of your trousers, a quick diversion to put your hand by her mouth for her to spit into it, and then you're wetting your cockhead with it. As quickly as you withdraw your fingers, Hanni's whine-come-gasp is interrupted by you pressing your length into her. You grab her waist, pulling her onto you.

She lets out a cry, her eyes squeezed shut as you stretch her. Her lips part in a sigh of pleasure as she relaxes.

"Don't go easy on me," she pleads.

"Wouldn't dream of it," you assure her.

She gasps and moans, her fingers gripping the table's edge as you plunge deeper. Her juices are slick around you, and her legs press tighter together as you push. You grunt, thrusting your hips. It feels so good to fill her up like this. She's so tight, and her walls are clenching around you. She moans, her fingers digging into the table.

"That's it, baby," she purrs. "Just like that."

You groan, the warmth and the pressure of her cunt squeezing around you. You pull back, just enough, and then plunge deep again. Your hips smack against her ass.

"Yes," she moans, her voice thick with lust.

You repeat the motion, your pace building. You lean forward, putting a hand on the table for support as you thrust into her. She gasps, her head tilted back. You're fucking her harder and faster now, your balls slapping against her thighs. She cries out, her hands gripping the table's edge. Her head rolls forward, only for you to take a handful of her golden hair and pull it back. You have to see the look on her face as she cums.

You lean forward, pushing her into the desk. Her breasts are squashed under her dress against the table's top, but it doesn't seem to bother her. She's moaning, her hips meeting your thrusts as you're pounding her cunt, and the sound of skin slapping fills the room. She's crying out, as her eyes roll back. You know that look.

You can feel her muscles twitch and flutter, as she cums, her orgasm washing over her. She's sobbing in pleasure, her cunt squeezing tight around you. You hold yourself inside her, not wanting to give up the feeling yet and just letting her cum around your cock.

She's panting. She's trembling. You're standing up straight and looking down at that bare ass. Thick and firm, you could bounce a coin off of it. Instead, you bounce your palm. A quick slap. She yelps in surprise and looks at you through her reflection.

"Oh," she pants, her eyes glazed over with desire.

Another slap, the other cheek this time. The sound echoes in the room. Hanni squeals, her eyes fluttering. She bites her lip, and you see her shift her weight from one foot to the other.

You grin. "Oh, do you like that?"

She nods, her breath catching in her throat. You give her another slap, and then another. You watch the jiggle and bounce, the way her cheeks turn red under your palm. You're fucking her, slapping her ass, and she's moaning, whimpering, screaming your name. She's begging for it.

She's cumming again. Her whole body tenses, her back arching, her head rolling back. She's shaking, and she's sobbing.

"Fucking hell, Hanni," you grunt.

You're close—so close. You're holding off as best as you can. Her body is so perfect. The curve of her back, the swell of her hips. Her ass is a wonder. Your hands dig into her soft flesh, and you feel her clench around your cock.

"Do it," she gasps, her eyes locking with yours. "Cum inside me."

You moan, leaning forward and pressing her into the desk. You're fucking her harder and faster, chasing your release. Your cock is throbbing inside her, and you're going to explode. You can't hold it any longer.

You cry out, your body shuddering as you cum inside her. Her pussy is pulsing around you, her cunt squeezing tight. You're spilling inside her, filling her up with your seed. She's crying out, her body shaking, and you feel her clench tight.

Your legs are shaking, and you're holding yourself up on the table. You're breathing heavily, trying to catch your breath. Hanni is panting, her eyes closed, her cheeks flushed.

"Now how do you feel?" You ask.

"Like I could host a show," she answers, then laughs.

"Then let's get you out there," you say as you pull her thong back into place.

#Hanni smut #male reader #kpop fanfic #m reader #Newjeans smut #Hanni x reader #kpop smut #smut #kpop fanfiction #Hanni Pham

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emmyrosee · 6 months ago

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Can I request a little thing with Sukuna where they’re having a soft moment on his bed or something and he pulls reader in for a hug before places slow kisses onto her neck?

The newscaster on the tv is long forgotten as Sukuna’s attentions are directed to you and you alone, their voice dull and droning as he takes his time focusing on you.

Next to him, on your back with your head turned to the side away from him as you giggle at something on your feed, you’re completely unbothered by the feeling of his eyes on you. He bites his lip at the sight of your shaking shoulders before extending a long arm to wrap around you, snaking across your shoulders and squeezing you tight, relishing in the small, surprised squeal you let out, “what’re you watching that you can’t show your perfect, funny, handsome boyfriend?”

“Look,” you mewl, and he pulls you into his side. You turn your phone to him, presenting him with a video of a dog waking up with its owner in an (allegedly) funny way.

Well, it was. But he’d never tell you that.

“It’s cute right?” You mewl, and he takes the phone from your hands and puts it on the pillow behind you.

“I’m cuter,” he murmurs.

“You are,” you assure, flipping onto your side to face him. He smirks as you do, your faces only a few inches apart. You nudge his legs to become tangled with yours, and he allows it with a small hum. “There’s no way you’re jealous of a dog on TikTok though, right?”

“So what if I am?” Sukuna asks, and you giggle. “I can’t make exceptions for you ogling at every cute creature you see- where’s the line?”

“You’re my favorite cute thing,” you hum, and he gags. “What! You can say it but I can’t?”

“Exactly.” The hand on your body wanders, over your side and arm, using his knuckles to delicately touch you. He slips his other arm under your pillow to finally close the distance between you both, the arm you’re now laying on caressing the back of your head while his free arm moves over the space of your back. You burrow into his chest, your own fingers gently playing with the buzzed hair at the nape of his neck. He huffs and buries his head deeper into you, and you gasp as his lips find their way to your neck, peppering down your jawline before taking home in your neck.

“Sukuna-“

“Mhmm? You’re interrupting me.”

You snicker, “jus’ not used to you being so affectionate.” You shiver as his tongue licks over your flaring pulse point before going back and pressing wet kisses to your sensitive neck. “Tickles.”

“Good,” he murmurs, biting softly to make you writhe, only to soothe that with a kiss. “Submit to me and maybe I’ll stop.”

“What if I don’t want you to stop?”

He snickers softly. The hand on your back rubs soothing circles and the one caressing your head massages the nape of your neck, and you feel your eyes growing heavier at the orchestra of sensations that work together to relax you.

“No marks,” you warn him, voice a slight slur from being so soothed. He grunts in agreement, but he does suck ever so slightly behind your ear, and you tug his hair. He hisses and glares at you. “No. Marks.”

“Alright, fuck, no marks,” he grumbles. “Didn’t know I was in the presence of the fuckin’ fun police.”

“I’m always fun.”

And even though a protesting tease dances on his lips, Sukuna says nothing, merely leaning down to press and lave his tongue at the base of your neck by your collarbone. You mewl, and he chuckles and sucks there, and you know you’ll have to cover those bruises with a higher-collared shirt.

You don’t have it in you to scold it again. Not when you’re melting like chocolate in his hand.

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briseroyawritingsblog · 1 month ago

Text

𝑩𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒌𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒓𝒖𝒍𝒆𝒔

𝑶𝒍𝒅𝒎𝒂𝒏!𝑳𝒐𝒈𝒂𝒏 𝒙 𝑩𝒊𝒎𝒃𝒐!𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓

• +18 minors do not interact. unprotected sex (don’t do that folks), smut, cute farm things, size kink, reader has big gorgeous breasts, rough sex (if you squint), lots of cum, dom dynamics (kinda), etc.

𝟔𝟎𝟎+ 𝐅𝐎𝐋𝐋𝐎𝐖𝐄𝐑𝐒 𝐂𝐄𝐋𝐄𝐁𝐑𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍!!! 𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐊 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐒𝐎 𝐌𝐔𝐂𝐇 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐔𝐏𝐏𝐎𝐑𝐓 𝐎𝐍 𝐌𝐘 𝐅𝐈𝐂𝐒! 𝐈 𝐀𝐏𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐂𝐈𝐀𝐓𝐄 𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐘 𝐒𝐈𝐍𝐋𝐄 𝐎𝐍𝐄 𝐎𝐅 𝐘𝐎𝐔!! 🤍🤍🤍🤍

𝒍𝒐𝒈𝒂𝒏 𝒎𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕 / 𝒎𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕

divider by @anitalenia

Once the first snow stuck to the ground you were packing your stuff to visit your grandparents at the farm. The snow covered everything and you loved spending time with your grandma it was a tradition. Placing your foot out of your car you were smiling wide as your grandma greeted you holding a cherry pie. Your favourite. Running into her arms you hugged her tight. You were telling her everything, how you were and how happy you become since it was a long time since you actually visited the family farm. Several miles out from the city, the nature hit differently. Now– especially close to Christmas. You promised to decorate your grandparents house and cook many delicious meals with your grandma. After all… she was like your mom. A golden soul-

“Logan! Come in! Would you like a slice of pie?!” Your grandma called from the kitchen. The backyard door was open, so you peeked out seeing an older man cutting down several logs of wood. He wore a very cozy jacket- the tallest man you have ever seen. His hands wrapped around the end of the axe and he swung it effortlessly making you jump slightly. “I’m alright Mrs Harper just gonna finish this wood for ya. Laura is comin home from school soon.” He grunted out, you bit your lower lip. You swore that he had the most attractive physique you’ve ever seen despite the greying beard and the silver grey hair. He was so strong, the long legs of his- your thighs pressed together unaware you were actually staring he stopped cutting the logs giving you a gentle stare back. You were like a ray of sunshine– your eyes and the apples of your cheeks. Your height alone made his cock heavy in his jeans. He didn’t know how to feel whether to simply kidnap you and fuck you silly or to just stay away from you. Option number two was more suitable and it was rare that women would look at him and acted the way you did. Women avoided eye contact with him especially the younger ones because well- he was trice their age just like you. He swallowed and you watched his Adam’s apple bob. “Y/N! It’s cold come in” your grandma grabbed your arm gently yanking you inside the cottage. Logan smirked softly to himself. Thinking to himself you were certainly a very young flesh and he shouldn’t even think about anything- but you attracted him.

“Alright I’m done Mrs Harper” he came inside the cottage placing the keys from the barn on the counter. You kept your gaze down on your coffee warming your hands around the cup. “Thank you so much Logan.” Your grandma smiled. “Are you sure I can’t give you some pie to go?” He shook his head slowly eyes on you. Gosh you felt his gaze burning the back of your head. “I’m sure Mrs Harper you have yourself a good evening. Both of ya” surely this man had manners, and that was even more attractive. “Goodbye Logan! Tell Laura she’s more than welcome to come here and spend time with my granddaughter!” Logan smiled nodding his head “Surely.” Once the man left you took a deep breath. Your cheeks burned. “He’s a good man. But very, old for you.” Your grandma cupped your cheek and you nodded. “I wasn’t thinking differently.” You lied taking a gulp of the warm coffee. The warmth of the coffee leaving a pleasant feeling in your chest as you chatted away with your grandma until your grandfather returned home.

Early in the morning you attended the animals, of course you fed them and changed waters for them. You cuddled few chickens and collected the eggs from the hens and cleaned out their coop. Once the animals were taken care of you visited the horse stalls. Holding a bag with sliced carrots you fed your favourite before an exciting thought occurred to you. You could ride your horse- you haven’t got to in a long time and the morning ride could definitely refresh your mind. Saddling your horse you greeted your grandfather as he entered the stalls smiling wide as he thanked you for all the work you’ve done the entire morning. Galloping out the stalls you waved to your grandma, giggling as your horse nodded its head and jumped over the wooden railing. You rode him through the snowy field and your soul felt freed. It was so amazing that one moment you thought you were flying until you saw a truck drive by, you stilled your horse. It was Logan- it seemed like he was returning from town. “Good Morning!” You called as he slowed down. He wore specs, you blushed as he greeted you back “Mornin, didn’t know you can ride.” He parked his truck on the side of the road you mesmerised by the sight of you sitting on that beautiful horse wearing a jacket with simple jeans but the sexiness and good energy radiated from you creating warmmess all around you. You nodded eagerly “Of course I can. I grew up here, he’s mine” you caressed your horses mane. Logan observed you, how beautiful you looked and those thoughts quickly changed because his eyes fell to your chest. You were indeed ‘gifted’ by Mother nature. “Who’s Laura?” You asked him “My daughter” he responded lighting a cigar. The smoke escaped through the window of his car. “Are you married?” You wondered no agenda behind it of course you stayed respectful. “I’m not sweetheart, are you?” The question made you giggle. “No Mr, I’m definitely not married.” Logan smiled small putting the cigar between his lips still sitting in his truck. Your horse was becoming impatient so you said your goodbyes. It was a short conversation but he called you a sweetheart and that woke butterflies in your belly. Logan thought of you.. oh he thought of you more than he actually should. So he did anything to busy himself- not to think of you. Just a man after all… and you? This young happy woman. For him to ruin.. later.

You wanted to meet Laura. Your grandma said that she’s a young girl and that she loved animals. Knowing you’re great with kids you finished your evening by attending the animals again lastly giving your horse a gentle brush and you plated his mane. You were just a farm girl thinking big about men and how one day you wanted to get married. Unfortunately not having a good luck with men only once and that one broke your heart so you broke up two years ago. Work occupied your mind and truly you haven’t even registered that you were walking to the lake nearby the farmhouse. Seeing the lights in the cottage across and the truck parked near you figured it’s Logan’s. Life was different out here… it was so good. The peace and quiet. Closing your eyes smelling the fresh winters evening breeze– it was freeing. Your grandma called for dinner so you let the thoughts about the charming Logan be for a moment and you walked back inside your farmhouse. The next morning was the same, work with the animals and then cooking with grandma. You were picking the winter apples for apple pies since the bake sale would be on Saturday. You helped as much as you could and to busy your mind. “Look who is visiting today!” Your grandfather brought a basket full of apples holding Laura’s hand. She was a little girl.. with dark beautiful hair and dark eyes. She smiled at your grandma- you greeted her and soon you two were getting along. She wasn’t talking much but understood quite well. “Where’s your daddy today?” Your grandma asked softly. “Hunting” she responded tasting some of the sliced apples. You frowned “Hunting with a shotgun? Like hunting animals?” You were so against it but people did it of course those ones who owned a license for it. “Yes.” She nodded and you put the dough down. “Are you hearing this?” You let out a frustrated growl. “How can someone hurt innocent animals!”

“You are A BAD MAN MR!!” You ran up to his truck pointing at him. “Am I?” He gruffly responded getting out. “You shoot animals!” You scowled. “And?” He gave you another response fuelling your frustration. “Yes! Did you shoot any today?” You asked following him around the truck. “Maybe. Now whatcha doing here little girl? Go back to your horses. Are you even good at something different? Callin me a bad man.” He tsked. “Well yes I am!! Now that’s also rude!” You responded clearly angry with him. “Like what? Fucking?” He arched a brow lighting a cigar leaning against his truck. “Excuse me?!” You gasped, your cheeks growing hot. “Well you ride a horse good can you ride some cock too?” You couldn’t believe the way he said it. “Maybe” you closed the distance between you two bravely looking up at him. “I don’t ride strangers cock, a man at your age.. you’re not my type Mr.” Logan took a hit of his cigar blowing the smoke in your face. “So why the starin and fuck me eyes n’all?” You pressed your thighs together. “I can smell you princess. That pussy is wet” he motioned with his eyes and you pulled the cigar out of his mouth throwing it. Getting on your tiptoes you pressed your lips against his, Logan responded hungrily sweeping you off your feet carrying you inside his cottage. Throwing you in his bed he unzipped his jacket breathlessly looking at you. His stare was filled with desire, darkness.. and you were still too dumb to understand it. Your brain just couldn’t wrap around it- why did men look at women this way especially when they needed ‘some’– they were like hungry animals you feared you were about to be devoured like a prey.

“That’s it babygirl” Logan guided you on his cock, his eyes were glued to your breasts which threatened to jump out of your blouse as you shamelessly bounced on his thick veiny cock. You held his shoulders for support and those big calloused hands roamed your thick thighs. “F-fuck” he shuddered holding fistfuls of your ass before letting go and slapping it making you yelp and moan even louder. “I-I c-can ride so good just like my horsey” you babbled as he hummed letting you rise your hips up and take him back right inside of you bouncing up and down his cock. He was so hard, your ridged walls welcomed him coating him in your juice and that caused you to whimper out. “Too dumb to understand when a man wants you princess” he breathed slapping your ass again making you mewl clenching around his cock. “Argh I should be fucking you so good right now” he tsks drawing fast circles against your clit making you lose the current pace. You were not able to ride him as he continued to please your clit like that. “M’so close..” you sobbed. Your breasts bounced as you started to ride quicker, your core blooming with warmth approaching your climax but Logan seemed to be displeased. “Fucking yourself on oldman’s cock and being dumb about it too” flipping you over so he was on top of you- making you cry out. He sheated himself entirely into you your toes curling and you helplessly moaning as he began to snap his hips into you. “that’s right baby, cry around old man’s cock. So dumb because of some cock” you nodded truthfully.. you only had sex once and now you didn’t know how to breathe since he was filling you out so good.

One orgasm later, you cleaned yourself in the bathroom gosh you were so full of him seed. Blushing furiously, when he came to the bathroom. His body was littered in scars, smoking a cigar it rested lazily between his lips. Standing by the sink, you shivered when he stood right behind you hovering above you “already leavin?” Asking, you nodded touching the sink. His big calloused hand traveled over your side to your belly down to your sex. He smelled the mess on it.. and in it. You both made so much mess. “Could think of ways to make you stay buttercup..” you swallowed looking at him in the mirror. You felt his hot erection on the curve of your butt and soon he was sinking back inside of you from behind. This way you never had it this way- it felt so much more deeper and dizzying. “Oh gosh..” leaning your back against his chest gripping his big forearm he grunted snapping his hips into you clapping his front against your ass. The cigar still burned between his lips and your eyes rolled back into your skull. The endless lines of moans and whimpers Logan found himself wrapping his arms around your front both hands grabbing a hold of your breasts. “F-fuckkkk” he breathed speeding up his thrusts fucking into you, with not just vigour but joy. The way your walls hugged his cock was out of this world “feels so good baby.. letting an old man fuck your pussy like this” you whined trembling with approaching orgasm and as his thrusts grew rougher your were hit with an earth shattering orgasm. The tip of his cock nestled against your sweet spot and you couldn’t last any longer, you clenched and milked all of him until he was forced to still his hips leaning on the wall above you with his hand letting out hungry growls and moans against your ear filling your core with another load. You believed that your legs turned to jelly as you collapsed against his chest your head lolling back against his right peck. “You gonna come back buttercup..” you nodded with a small smile. “Maybe.. but promise me you won’t shoot any animals” he nuzzled his nose against your own before capturing your lips in a deep lusting kiss. You felt his cock grow in your core stretching it again, and you knew you weren’t going to make it back to the farmhouse anytime soon.

(Any mistakes or typos I apologise in advance)

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coldfanbou · 8 months ago

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Clinical

Hi Everyone! Here's the piece for the week. I mentioned that I felt like I could make it a series, but I'm still not a hundred percent sure about it. So, I'll wait for some feedback on it. Anyway, prepare some time with Karina that involves a little rough sex and some breeding.

Length 2K

Karina X Mreader

In what could best be described as a hospital room, Karina pursed her lips and considered how the night would go. “Depositor entering the building,” A robotic voice says. Karina stared at the light by the door to her room; if she were chosen, it would light up a bright green. She had been on the list for a long time and wanted it to be her turn to finally get the chance to be bred. She recoiled as the shining light turned on. The door to her room opened immediately afterward; a nurse walked with a carefree smile.

“Today’s the day, Karina. Would you like the shot?”

Karina nodded, “It’ll be easier like that, right?”

“A lot easier. Just consider that it’ll be hard to control yourself for the day after. You’ll be like a dog in heat.” The nurse responds with a slight chuckle, having experienced it herself. “Do you still want to take it?” Karina agreed to it, and the nurse prepared the injection and Karina’s arm. “This is going to sting a little.” The nurse presses the needle into Karina’s skin, puncturing it and injecting the serum into her. “The system will notify you and your partner when you’re pregnant.” Karina felt her body heat up as those words were spoken. She rubbed her legs together; they became slick with her juices in moments. Her breathing became heavy, and her nipples hardened, rubbing against her skin-tight outfit. She moaned lightly; her body was becoming incredibly sensitive. The nurse quickly cleaned the wound, applying a bandage before heading out. She pressed a button on the wall and left with the door shutting behind her.

“Serum applied. Toys have been unlocked.”A voice says before a cupboard opens, revealing a myriad of toys. Karina eyes one of the dildos and goes for it. She moves the bottom of her one-piece to the side and pushes it inside as she bends over the counter.

“Mhm, Ah,” Karina groans as she pushes the dildo inside her cunt. A thin layer of sweat develops on her skin as she fucks herself. Karina’s walls squeezed down on the toy as she moved it. Karina needed more, though. She grabbed at her breasts, shaking when her nipple rubbed against the cloth of her one-piece. She groaned but continued to play with herself, licking her lips as she imagined a real cock fucking her. “Fuck,” the dildo wasn’t enough for Karina. She needed more; dropping the dildo, she scoured through the cupboard until the door to her room opened.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Thank you for your selection. Please proceed to the next room immediately,” the robotic voice of the vending machine says as it spits out a plastic card. You walk forward, scanning the hall as you head to your room. “Please scan your card.” You do so, thinking of the ridiculousness of having to scan the card it just gave to you. The metal door slides open, shutting behind you as you step inside. To your left was a screen that played a video you had seen dozens of times at this point. You sat down on the bed in the room and watched it. It seemed like nothing would happen until it finished. You were a little anxious about it all but happy about being chosen. Not many got that opportunity, much less with a selection as popular as you had. “Your partner is approaching; please remove your clothing,” says the same robotic voice of the room intercom. You follow the instructions and sit on the bed, waiting for your partner.

The door slides open, and your partner for the night, Karina, stumbles through. She was wearing a skin-tight, high-waisted metallic one-piece and nothing else. Karina’s stiff nipple poked through the one-piece, and the one-piece itself was pulled high; her lower lips were completely visible, and her thighs were coated in her juices. The first thing you heard from her lips was a moan. Her eyes remained on the ground as one of her hands went to cunt, rubbing it roughly as the other squeezed her heavy breast. You knew how this worked. In making conceiving easier, the women were given the option to take a unique concoction that raised their libido and the likelihood of getting pregnant. Karina slowly raised her head, her eyes became glued to your cock, and she rushed to you. She dropped onto her knees and rubbed her face against it. Her tongue poked out from between her lips and ran along the underside of your cock, “A real cock,” Karina moans, dragging her tongue along it again before wrapping her lips around the tip. The slippery warmth of her mouth makes you groan; adding to your pleasure was the sensation of her tongue running back and forth over the tip. Karina placed her hands on your thigh as she pushed herself down on your cock, reaching the base. Karina’s eyes roll into the back of her head as she slobbers over your cock, her low groans flowing as she facefucks herself. You place your hand on the back of her head, forcing your cock down her throat. You feel it flex around your shaft, tightening around you.

You push Karina away from you, knowing you are getting close to cumming. Her mouth is stained with saliva; her eyes are teary. You catch her rubbing her cunt through her swimsuit. While you had pushed Karina’s mouth away, you hadn’t stopped her hands. They gripped your cock tightly, running along your shaft and stroking you. Your cock began to throb in her hands, and your strength left you. Karina pushed her way back to your cock, wrapping her lips around the tip and lapping at your cock. You lay back on the bed, trying to last a little longer, but it was useless. Karina’s muffled moans are all you can hear as she drinks your cum, placing her tongue at the tip and milking your cock by jerking you off. You look at her, watching as she revels in the taste of the salty liquid.

Karina jumps on you a moment later, “I need more,” She mumbles as she grabs your cock, and points it to her cunt. She moves the bottom of her swimsuit to the side with her other hand. A moment later, Karina sinks onto your cock, filling herself. Karina squats over you, bouncing on your cock with enthusiasm. She bends over, running her tongue along your nipple. “I want your cum. I want you to put a baby in me.” She repeats with every bounce. Karina works the muscles, tightening her cunt around your cock. Her slippery walls had coated you in her nectar and made sliding further inside easier. The pleasure was overloading you, and you could barely move as Karina had her way with you.

Your body clapped as she pressed her weight against you. “Karina, I’m going to cum,” You groan.

“That’s okay. I want you to fill my needy pussy with your cum.” She whispered into your ear as she impaled herself on you. Your cock was beginning to throb inside her. Karina felt it and moved quickly, slamming herself onto you. “I’m so close. I’m so close.” She said, her saliva dripping onto you. As you near your climax, you watch her bouncing tits; they are hypnotizing. You reach out for one, cupping it and giving it a soft squeeze. “OH fuck!” Karina shouts dropping herself onto your cock. Her walls clamp down on your cock and force your climax. Karina remains seated on your cock as a torrent of your baby batter rushes into her fertile womb. Karina grinds against you as you calm down from your climax. You get into a seated position and run your hands along Karina’s back, unzipping her one-piece. She follows your lead, pulling her swimsuit off her body. Karina’s heavy tits swing as she forces the top half off her body. “I want more,” she groans, rubbing her clit. “I’m not pregnant yet.”

You roll Karina onto her back and pull off her one-piece, leaving her completely naked. You spread Karina’s legs and rub your cock along her slit. You remember the videos and find Karina’s swollen clit and flick it. She throws her head back and roars. The sensation made her toes curl, but it didn’t end there. You pushed your cock inside her cunt, slipping inside with ease. Karina holds onto the bedsheets as you begin thrusts. “Shit, fuck me,” Karina says through gritted teeth as you play with her body. You reach over with your other hand and pull on the hard nub of her left tit. Karina cries out in pleasure. Her sensitive nipples were being toyed with now, and she loved it. She wrapped her legs around your waist, using her feet to push you in deeper. Playing with her tits and clit was having its effect on Karina; she began to babble as you have your way with her. You lean over Karina, attaching yourself to her other nipple. You bite down on it and pull back, stretching her flesh and making her roar.

You feel her walls tightening around you, her nails digging into your skin and scratching your back, marking you. “Cum,” Karina whines, struggling to get another word out as you drive your cock against her womb. Each thrust drags some of your cum out of her, and it pools around her.

“I’m going to cum too.” You moan as your cock begins to throb inside Karina.

She feels it and pulls you in close. “Cum inside me, give me a baby!” She whines. You continue to slam against her pussy, her walls gripping you, trying to keep you inside. Every movement pushes you and Karina closer to cumming. You shut Karina up with a kiss and roughly squeeze her tit as you bury yourself inside and dump another load of your semen inside her. You feel her body shake as she goes through another orgasm, and her mind goes blank. You give her a few soft thrusts, enjoying the way her cunt gripped you before pulling out. Cum leaked out from her, dripping onto the bed.

“Congratulations, pregnancy secured.” The robotic voice blares through the room’s speakers. “Candidate, please proceed into the next room,” it follows. You grab your clothes and move to the next room, your eyes watching Karina before the door separates you. “Thank you for your participation in creating the next generation. A nurse will be with you soon.” The voice said. You didn’t know whether to put on your clothes, but before you could start, another door opened, and a nurse walked through it.

“Allow me to clean you up, sir.” She says before kneeling before you. You read the nametag on her as she wraps her lips around your cock and begins to clean you up.

“Thank you…Taeyeon.” You groan; her deft tongue slithers along the underside of your cock, before moving along the sides. She slowly pulls back, kissing the tip before inspecting her work. She glances up at you and smiles, opening her mouth to show you all the cum she collected before swallowing.

Taeyeon slowly rises to her feet. “You’re free to leave now, sir. Should something happen to your partner’s baby, you will receive a call so you can impregnate her again.” She says before leaving the room. You get yourself dressed and leave the clinic, hoping you get to return in the future.

Taeyeon was right about the serum's side effects. Karina could hardly control herself after the breeding was done. She was kept in a secluded room on a fuck machine. Bound with some chains, Karina was given orgasm after orgasm. The toy pumped her full of fake cum at certain intervals, helping satisfy that need. Her belly was bloated, and cum flowed out of her with every thrust, but she still wanted more.

Once the serum wore off, Karina returned to her usual self and was given a tape of the experience to watch if desired. She couldn’t help herself and watched it that night. Seeing herself be nothing more than a beast in heat turned her on. She rubbed her lips, masturbating as she watched her time in the clinic.

#kpop smut #male reader #m reader #karina smut #aespa smut

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writerpeach · 9 months ago

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Studious Seduction

Oh My Girl Arin x m! reader

10k words

Thanks to @i-am-lifeform24 for help with editing

Part One | Part Two

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Read on AO3

"This seems like a bad idea, Miss Choi."

"It's a terrible idea, professor. Which is why we're doing it."

Without a doubt, there’s very little chance that you won’t be spotted here. Heading up a stairwell that leads up to who knows where is hardly ideal, especially with the sudden rain shower that's started to pour above, foreshadowing this bad decision made in tandem.

Yet, you’ve never been one to make the best choices. An inappropriate relationship with one of your students has to be ranked at the top of the list, wrong for a myriad of reasons—all that could get you fired. Still, it somehow continues unimpeded, knowing the risks, both of you doubling down even.

At this point, you’re not sure if you’re a bad influence on Arin, or if she’s a bad influence on you.

To make matters worse, today’s outfit of choice is this poor excuse for a school uniform that draws all your attention. A risky little ensemble that consists of a white shirt and black tie combo that only pretends to be proper, covering very little of her midriff, as well as this dark little pleated miniskirt so short it might as well not exist for how little of her thighs it hides. It leaves more of her creamy skin uncovered, and being her professor, you know it's not appropriate to look—yet you can’t stop yourself from doing so anyways.

And then there’s those dark frames on her face, the cherry on top that puts this whole thing together, that takes her from an innocent, responsible student more than invested in class, to this devilish vixen who struts into your office, demanding to be ruined, never taking no for an answer.

There’s almost no room for imagination, offering you such an obscene view when Arin heads up the stairs, purposefully walking in front of you with slow, deliberate steps. You can see the shape of her perfectly round butt cheeks exposed, her tight fitting thong doing anything but covering up delicious pale flesh. Of course, she knows exactly where your line of sight goes when you walk behind her, making an effort to shake her wide hips a little more with each step, giving you a shameless view of her tight, succulent ass.

This outfit is every dress code violation she could possibly make rolled into one.

But who's going to admonish her? You? Who can't even think logically at the moment when all your thoughts have turned to mush? Not a chance when all you want to do is slip your hand between her thighs too delicious to resist until she makes a mess on your fingers, the floor, and anywhere else that becomes collateral damage.

Right now, you have the perfect opportunity for exactly that. You’ve lost track of how many steps you’ve walked, but eventually, the stairwell comes to an end, with a set of metal double doors that leads up to the rooftop. As good a place as any other, you think, especially when there's little reason anyone else would want to venture towards the top level during this never-ending rainstorm.

“Here?” you question, when Arin presses your back against the cold wall just underneath the final level of the stairwell. A solitary gaze into her eyes is all you get before she wraps her hands around your neck and plants a heated, sloppy kiss on your lips. She nods in affirmation, but doesn’t give you the time to catch your breath, slipping her tongue into your mouth to make an attempt to taste all of you.

“It's really open here. Pretty easy to get caught," you tell her when she moves from your lips, placing wet kisses across your jawline, moving lower down to your neck.

"That's the point, professor." Arin places your hands firmly around her waist, leading you exactly where she wants your touch. Her legs spread a little further apart so you can push her skirt up, revealing just how tiny of a thong she's wearing. "I don't care if we get caught. Make a mess of me—"

She sighs when your fingertips press against her clothed core, so aroused you can already feel her slick leaking through the flimsy fabric. You add more pressure in response, rewarded with Arin's soft gasps against the sensitive skin of your neck.

"We could get in a lot of trouble, Yewon," you breathe out, barely paying attention to anything beyond this. In fact, you hardly care about what could go wrong either, so consumed with lust, one singular desire that Arin shares, and your fingertips ache to slip underneath these panties and sink right in.

"When has that ever stopped us before?"

She has a point.

This is risky as it gets. And that’s what makes it all more exciting.

Without wasting any more time, you slip a finger underneath the fabric of her panties, into her ridiculously warm cunt. A second one slides in right after, and soaked as she already is, barely puts up any resistance, the entrance of her tight little hole eagerly swallowing you up.

“Professor—“

A few strokes is all you manage before Arin throws her head back in delight, rolling her hips, moaning from nothing more but your fingers slowly pumping in and out of her needy cunt.

Arin clings to your shoulder as the tempo picks up, her other hand quickly traveling down your torso until it reaches your pants. She finds the button to your slacks right away, unzipping them to slip a hand inside your boxers. You let out a groan when she runs a gentle hand along the length of your shaft, slow and teasing—until she wraps her entire hand around it and grips you tight.

“Yewon..." A wave of pleasure rushes through your whole body. She's stroking your cock with such a perfect grip, slender fingers reaching down to fondle your balls, eager for what they’ve stored up just for her. Meanwhile, the sounds that come from her own throat as she rides your fingers become a necessary distraction, urging you to thrust into her a little faster, a little rougher—

"How many loads are you going to give me today, professor? I hope they're all as thick as they were yesterday—"

It's rather ridiculous, the things you hear come out of Arin's mouth. The demure looking girl in the front row, raising her hand up high, blushing just at the sight of you, now says the filthiest things when she's got her mouth on your earlobe and her pussy filled with your fingers. She's every bit the opposite of an exemplary student, but you suppose that's your fault, given you're the one who's trading straight A's for the roughest, raunchiest sex that almost always ends up with you finishing inside her.

But the way Arin sounds when she moans directly in your ear, riding your fingers so selfishly while they stay buried inside her cunt, it makes you forget all that. None of that matters. All that does is satisfying her needs and yours, and you won't stop until she's absolutely drenched your fingers, even if it ruins that pathetic pair of panties.

"Don't stop, professor. I'm so close…"

She's lost all inhibitions in her frantic desire to keep rocking her hips hard against your fingers. You can feel the tension about to snap, her walls squeezing the life out of your slick digits—all while she tries to keep a steady rhythm in her own pumping, giving your cock a good squeeze each time your fingers plunge to the hilt.

"Professor, please, don’t stop, don’t stop—" Arin’s breathing grows unsteady, heavy, and she gasps for air between every syllable that escapes her lips. You’ll do everything to oblige her, steadily thrusting, curling your fingers to find that sweet spot that gets her to moan the loudest until she lets go of your cock, clinging her entire weight onto you.

"You're gonna make me fucking cum—"

Nothing gets said in response, obeying Arin’s pleas, an uninterrupted stream of juices beginning to coat your fingers while she lets out one continuous moan, unable to speak coherently upon climax. Biting down hard on her bottom lip, she nearly draws blood before the wetness gushes down your fingers, rendering her panties useless, completely ruined with all this sticky arousal.

Her walls flutter around you, this explosive orgasm lasting far longer than you expect—but you don’t let up, pumping away as she spills more, riding this out until it turns into a second one shortly after. And when you press your thumb firmly against her clit, right as she starts to come down from her high, the violent trembles in her body repeat, sending her over the edge a third time, forcing her body to shake against yours, another loud, shameless moan spilling out of her in overstimulation.

It's a wonder how the rest of campus hasn’t heard the screams echoing all the way down the staircase. Were it not for the rain pouring overhead drowning out her cries of pleasure, it would be near impossible for anyone passing by to not hear a thing. So you’re blessed by the rains, both above, and between Arin’s sticky thighs.

After it’s all said and done, she can hardly support her own weight when the sensation of your fingers inside her becomes too much for her oversensitive cunt, Arin’s sweaty frame nearly toppling over as she breathes heavily. Good thing you're right here to do what she temporarily can’t, clinging to your body, your hard cock still poking against her as you keep her upright amidst these intense aftershocks.

"That was, fuck—you've really outdone yourself, professor. I can hardly stand."

When you pull your fingers out, you can’t hide the smirk that spreads across your face with all this slick clinging to your fingertips as she leans on your body to take a breath. The praise washes over you while Arin unexpectedly grabs your wrist, bringing your soaked fingers, all the way up to her lips to fervently suck the delicious liquid off.

You intently watch her lick herself off you, tongue lewdly swirling around the length of each wet digit, making an effort to swallow all of her mess. Her lips glisten with spit and wetness, a ravenous look in her bespectacled eyes as she cleans whatever she can, tasting every drop of her delicious essence, staring at you seductively until nothing is left.

"Guess I don't need these anymore," Arin says after a pause, gradually recovering as she peels her drenched thong down her legs, letting it drop to her ankles before she slips it off, stuffing it into your front pocket. A cute little smile later, and she looks more than eager for what's next, unable to tear her gaze away from how hard you’ve been left thanks to her.

"I should finish what I started, don't you think, professor?"

You don't even get to answer when Arin drops to her knees on the cold floor, tugging your pants and boxers further down, freeing your cock that so desperately needs it—so desperately needs her. With a cute, light giggle, she spits onto your swollen shaft, pumping the entire length with her delicate fingers, a low moan rising in your throat as she pays extra attention to the underside where she knows you're the most sensitive.

Her slender fingers work up the length of your cock, coming back down with a grip so wonderfully tight. She’s so ready, so eager to have her soft lips around it already. You can practically see her salivating when she leans in a little closer to lap her tongue around your cock in one long, lazy lick, pressing her lips into a light kiss on the tip of your shaft.

“Yewon—“

You can’t hold in a grunt when Arin rubs your tip against her mouth, not opening up enough to take you whole yet, instead tracing her full, soft lips over your needy cockhead.

“Don’t you worry, professor. Gonna make you feel so good. I promise.”

The anticipation explodes all at once as she parts her lips, slipping the entire head of your cock inside. The moment her wet mouth makes contact with your shaft, you groan at the sudden warmth, a sharp contrast from her icy cold hands. She takes more of your length down, hollowing her cheeks, keeping an intense, erotic gaze while slowly bobbing her head up and down.

"Mhmph—" Her warm breath sends shivers down your spine as her lips slip further and further down, the tip of her tongue flicking against what hasn’t disappeared into her mouth. You can’t help but let out all types of unabashed moans while she guides more of you inside, spit dripping down to your balls as she slides deeper, until nothing of you is left to swallow up, the head of your cock hitting the back of her tight throat with ease.

"Yewon, fuck,” you say, nearly breathless, and the way Arin looks up at you with her mouth so proudly sealed around every inch—there’s nothing better. “I'll never get enough of your pretty fucking mouth.”

Arin hums against the length of your shaft at your praise, working more of her magic on you, lips getting down so devastatingly deep against your base. She’s oh so eager, so unwaveringly committed to covering every single inch in saliva. Her hot little mouth slides down effortlessly, bobbing her head back, each stroke just a bit sloppier, a little wetter than the one before, with zero intention of giving you a chance to gather yourself.

“Nobody gives a blowjob like I do, right, professor? Nobody can make you cum as hard as I can. I love being on my knees for you so much, being a good little slut for my professor. That’s what I am, aren't I?"

Nodding your head is all you can do, breath heavy in disbelief of how good this oral assault is, the enthusiasm on display really proving how much Arin enjoys having your cock shoved down her wet, inviting throat.

You’d sacrifice your entire livelihood for a blowjob like this.

It’s quite simple to lose track of how many times her talented mouth takes your entire length down, so good at pleasuring you it's impossible to find words. The way her wet tongue flicks against your slit when she slides off, only to have you plunging all the way back into the heat of her throat—it's far, far too good.

"I want you to cum on my face, professor," Arin tells you, so casually as she pulls away for a brief second before going right back to licking up the length of your hard cock, spitting all the excess saliva over the rest of you. Then she’s back to placing hungry wet kisses against each inch, her tongue making a slick path before she gives the leaking slit of your cock another teasing, torturous swirl. "I want all of it."

At this rate, you think you could blow a load anywhere she wanted you to, already so close to bursting just at her tongue lavishing your cock with these feverish licks. She has this way of making you feel so special, like worshiping your cock is all that matters to her, your pleasure the most important aspect in her life. Her greedy mouth proves just that, making you groan so easily, especially when she dips down to pay attention to your balls and slurps so messily on them like she wants your load at any cost.

A few lazy licks down your sack and you’re back down her throat—just trapped there helplessly as she holds you, her pretty mouth so goddamn overwhelming when she swallows as much of your length as she possibly can, not showing even the slightest hint of strain. Her full lips stay motionless when they slide right down to your base, gaze locked tight, making your cock throb within her tight, wet throat.

“Stay there, Yewon, shit,” you groan, hands clutching her head against your crotch to speed up the path to climax. Each second she remains there feels like absolute heaven, fostering all this unbearable bliss, all while those doe eyes speak for her when her mouth can’t—impatiently waiting, desperately wanting to empty your balls.

When she releases her lips from your length, there’s a sexy little gasp that comes with the messy string of saliva pulling her back down. Repeating the act, she plunges right back down, nose nestling comfortably against your abdomen, lips wrapped entirely around the base of your length. “Yewon, god, you know what’s gonna happen if you keep doing that.“

"Oh, you’re gonna cum? Want you to paint my pretty face. Don’t you, professor?”

There’s no answer to offer other than what she wants, all thoughts drowned by another wet slurp when Arin once again takes every inch of you down her throat, the overwhelming warmth of her mouth suffocating your length. Then she rises, exposing your shaft to the cool air for only a moment until her throat tightens when you’re back down, fully sheathed.

Arin’s so dedicated to hearing you moan that these steadfast strokes show no relent, slurping from base to tip, hair all a mess as she bobs faster and faster, maintaining never-ending eye contact that’ll be the death of you.

“Need it. Need it so bad, your hot cum dripping down my face when I walk back down these stairs. Can’t wait to feel how thick and heavy a load you’ll give me.”

Her pace only begins to go into overdrive, picking up rampantly when Arin places her hands on your thighs for better stability, the hot slickness of her mouth far too much to handle. She takes every inch, all of you disappearing down, without needing to stop to take a breath, like she’s proving a point at how good she can get you off. There's no restraint as she bobs her head without inhibitions, sloppily, noisily, not even gagging when her throat delivers an unimaginable level of pleasure.

"Oh my god, Yewon, fuck—"

With each desperate stroke, you're so close to that edge, quickly approaching the inevitable. The tightness in your balls grows beyond your control, and there’s no time to think straight when her mouth feels this fucking good, almost there, absolutely about to—

"I'm gonna fucking cum, Yewon," you groan out just in time, with no qualms about how needy you sound. One last slow descent down to your base, then Arin pops your needy shaft from her mouth right when it seems you’re about to burst any second.

And looking as salacious as possible, she simply tilts her head slightly backwards, jerking you off while directing the tip of your cock straight at her face, eagerly anticipating the release that's about to cover her.

“Cum all over me, professor.”

You let out a strained, guttural moan the moment your first pearlescent stream shoots out, streaking across the bridge of her nose. These frantic strokes don’t let up, guiding your milky seed that unloads onto the perfect target—her glasses, coating the lenses in white and getting it all over her rosy cheeks. Another strand fires off as she shifts your cock downwards, a thick stream blasting across her parted lips that deserve so much of this load for helping you reach an explosive release.

She pumps, and pumps, until there’s nothing left, and by the time your orgasm winds down, Arin is a total mess, one you’ll never get tired of seeing your load plastered all over her. Her stunning features wear you like a proud smile, drenched in her handiwork, thick streaks that cling to her cheeks, those soft lips, and anywhere else it happens to land as she strokes your length to ensure not a drop goes to waste.

That look is all too familiar when the weight of your load starts to drip down, an orgasmic feeling that brings a grin onto her cum-stained face.

“That’s a big load, professor. Just what I wanted," she says as she removes her stained glasses, taking a nice, long lick right over the lens and making a show of the entire thing. "I think I'm obsessed. With your cum. It tastes so good, but looks better on my face."

"Yewon—you're ridiculous, you know that?" you tell her as she carefully slips the glasses back on, and wipes up whatever has run off to the corners of her lips, bringing her sticky fingers into her own mouth to slurp them clean.

"It's not my fault my professor's cum tastes so good."

But before she can even begin to clean off your cock, or savor what an absolute mess she’s covered in, the sound of footsteps nearby force her to stop mid-stroke, causing both your heads to turn with a shared look of panic. There's only enough time to tuck yourself back into your pants, but there's nothing to do at all about this massive load that's dripping all over Arin, nor what’s done a number on the stairwell.

"Get behind me, Yewon. Quick."

Arin nods and does as you say, scrambling to her feet, also making sure her thong is still tucked away into your pocket as you zip your pants up. The sounds of footsteps echo louder, yet there's only one real way to escape this stairwell, because you're not going out that door when the rain hasn't let up one bit.

When the moment those footsteps approach the stairwell entrance, they slow to a halt, making your heart beat faster. Arin moves fast enough to get behind you just in time, out of sight and behind your broad frame. And the two of you wait there, her body pressed against yours, trying to hold her breath, dreading to explain yourself to whoever just made this abrupt end to your fun.

"Professor? Is that you?" The voice sounds so familiar, but you can't quite pick it out, too muffled by the rain. But there's no doubt you've heard this voice before. It's certainly one of your students, so at least you won’t have to explain this to a faculty member. "What a surprise, seeing you here!"

Normally, you'd have all the time in the world for pleasantries and small talk, but this is the last place where you can do anything of the sort as you try to shield Arin. From who exactly, you have no idea as they walk into frame. Their name escapes you, not that you really care when all you want is to get out of this situation.

"Is something the matter, professor? Why are you standing there?"

"Oh, uh, nothing. I had some time between classes and came up here to check out the rain. It's not letting up is it?" You put on the best smile possible, knowing Arin can't be spotted right behind you. Luckily, your taller frame can block her body completely, and given how the area is poorly lit, there isn't much worry about the mess that's on her face at the very least.

"No, it isn't. We don't usually get so much rain this time of year, huh?" The unnamed student asks as she glances out the window, and for a brief second you fear the worst—but she doesn't seem to notice anything at all that shouldn't be there. "I didn't even bring an umbrella today either..."

"You might check the library, they'll have them."

"The library?"

"They used to offer some a few months back, but I guess everyone forgot. I'm sure they still have a few left."

"I might give that a try then, thanks. It's good to see you, professor."

When your student smiles and waves goodbye, heading back the stairs without another word, you're able to finally breathe a huge sigh of relief, knowing the ordeal is finally over, despite taking years off your life. "Jesus, Yewon."

"That was close.” Her own breath stays ragged and heavy, almost completely forgetful to the mess you've left on her face that still glistens. "Good save. Really pulled that umbrella story out of thin air, didn’t you?”

“Whatever it takes. Hey, they might have umbrellas. I’ve never gone there except to rail you.”

Arin laughs, then suddenly remembers she still has your filth all over her. “Better go clean up I guess..."

"This was a really terrible idea."

"Hey, this was my terrible idea," Arin corrects with a grin that manages to shine through all the mess. "And I don’t hear you complaining about me giving you a nice, sloppy blowjob, professor.”

“I could never complain about seeing my favorite student on her knees.”

“I'll go on ahead. Maybe I'll see you later? For office hours?"

You say nothing more as you let her pass you to head down the stairs first, standing here a bit longer for your heart rate to calm before you too make your exit. You've got a class in under an hour that you haven't prepared for, and now how could you, coming so close from potentially losing your job. But yet, somehow, through all that, Arin was right—the rush of getting caught is exhilarating, but that was far too close for comfort.

✦ ✦

So after all that, logic would dictate that you should be a little more careful, that maybe you should stop having sex with your student in places you're bound to get caught—but logic went out the window the moment you bent Arin over your desk for the very first time. What else are you going to do though, take her home to your apartment where there's actual privacy, where you don't have to keep quiet?

That sounds so very drab and mundane, and you'd rather spend another ten hours grading papers than go the proper route. You don't even know what you would do if you wound up in Arin's bedsheets, having all the freedom to rail her for hours instead of the thrill of being in public where you have to be quick and quiet.

There's nothing wrong or unhealthy with this relationship. Not one bit.

You've told yourself on multiple occasions that you should dial it down a notch, not meet quite so often, or at least not in places that will put your career at risk. After all, your luck is going to run out one of these days, and the day could very well come when more than just a student catches the two of you, maybe one of the other professors, or god forbid the university staff.

And then it's all over for both of you.

Yet, there isn't a day when you don't seek each other out, find some empty closet, a vacant faculty office, or that spot near the back of the library that's so dusty that no one frequents.

The risk is almost as good as being balls deep inside Arin itself.

You can't exactly help yourself when she wears these slutty little outfits that practically beg you to rip them off her, nothing but the shortest skirts imaginable to class, where you have to stop your eyes from wandering throughout the entirety of the lecture.

Arin sits in the front row for a reason, and that's not to get a better view of the whiteboard. No, it's so she can spread her legs open when no one's paying attention, flash whatever sexy pair of panties she has underneath (or the lack thereof on occasion), and sometimes even play with herself so she can show off how wet she is.

Somehow, no one's really noticed how often you have her in your office, where there's less talk about class going on, and more your head buried between her thighs, or having her bent over your desk in some obscene position with her mouth stuffed by her ruined underwear and screaming through it.

With everything that’s transpired today, one would think you’d call it early and pack up. Not you though. Not even an hour has gone by since your close call, and Arin is in your office again, sucking you off underneath your desk while you work on grading papers—at least you should be, if only you could focus for more than a few seconds without this warm mouth slobbering on your cock.

"I bet none of your other students can deepthroat you as good as I can."

"You said you were going to be quiet."

"And you said you were going to fuck me, professor."

You haven't exactly broken that promise, it's more like Arin decided she wasn't going to wait until you finished, always finding an excuse to get in her favorite position whenever she wants to suck you off.

Luckily, for your students, you're going to be in such a tremendous mood after finishing in this girl's hungry mouth. These papers are downright horrendous—so fucking awful and unreadable it makes you wonder if you should intentionally pound Arin in your office with the door wide open, just so you’ll get caught, lose your job, and never have to deal with some of these students ever again.

Not even a few papers in and you’ve lost every ounce of focus, groaning while Arin empties your balls, her mouth right at your base when your spills right down her throat. With your fingers gripping the back of her head, it's impossible to not avoid bucking your hips into her pretty, sloppy mouth as she drains each thick shot from your pulsing cock, swallowing it all with pride to make sure there's not a single trace of your creamy release that hasn't gone directly into her stomach.

"All those students probably failed anyways," she tells you, letting the saliva fall from her lips as she shows off her empty mouth with a pleased smile, planting a nice, loud wet kiss on your tip before getting back up to her feet.

"Yeah? Including you?"

"Of course not, professor. We both know before you even look at my paper that I've got a perfect grade."

"Is that so? And what have you done to deserve that, Yewon?"

Before you've even gotten your pants back on properly, Arin is already claiming a spot on the edge of your desk, undoing her tie so that it hangs loosely around her neck, and then spreads those luscious thighs as wide apart as they can go, her gorgeous, dripping pussy on display without any underwear in the way. "I can think of a few things. Doesn't emptying you down my throat count for something?"

"Hm, I dunno,” you ponder, shamelessly staring between those delectable thighs at what’s all yours. “Maybe a few points. That'll get you a passing grade at best."

"Just a few? What about all the times I've ridden your cock this week alone, professor? And how many times did you cum inside me?"

"I've completely lost track, Yewon. I guess that'll get you at least ten percent higher."

"How generous of you," she retorts, tone all full with playful sarcasm, unbuttoning her white shirt enough so you can see the color of her bra. It's purple, just like the thong in your pocket that serves as a nice trophy. "Are you forgetting how many times I took your thick cock in my ass until you blew your load inside?"

"Does that really count if you beg me to do so every time you step in my office?"

"Oh no, you can't blame me for how much you love my ass, professor. That's at least twenty points."

"That's a little greedy, don't you think?"

"Absolutely not. If anything, I deserve extra for all those times I let you fuck my face," Arin suggests, spreading her legs further apart to give a clearer view of her bare cunt that’s glistening so beautifully, accompanied with a set of fingers teasing herself for your benefit.

"Again, you're forgetting the part where you keep dropping down to your knees and begging for it."

Arin can't help but smile, both at knowing you're right—and also how you can't take your eyes off the show her fingers put on when she rubs at her clit, getting wet so easily from playing with herself while staring into your eyes. It's the look on your face that drives her crazy and gives her the urge to show off even more, sliding two digits past her swollen lips into her tight hole, so eager to get herself off in front of you.

"What about now, profess—" she asks before a moan interrupts her words, leaning backwards to prop herself up so you can watch every bit as she fingers herself. "Does this count for anything?"

"It depends. If you can make yourself cum without my help, then maybe, that'll bump up your grade, Yewon."

"Twenty-five. For making myself cum right in your office," she manages between hitched breaths, pumping her fingers deep in and out, almost bucking her hips off the table at her own touch.

"Twenty. You're not there yet, Yewon," you correct, watching Arin roll her head back with her eyes shut, so beautiful when she's in bliss, achingly sexy how her slender fingers disappear knuckle deep into her own cunt. You've barely had any time to recover since emptying your load down her throat just a minute ago, but the mere sight is more than enough to have you as hard as the wooden desk she’s writhing on.

Arin reaches down to further unbutton her shirt, giving the full glimpse of her breasts covered up in that pretty lace as her tight frame falls back against the cold surface all splayed out. While this shameless girl continues fingering her pussy, you simply enjoy the view, stroking your cock every few seconds to spur her on. Every desperate moan and gasp from her lips gets louder, all that nectar trickling down between her spread thighs you’re dying to lick clean—but you won’t, because she has to do this on her own.

You let the lack of words exchanged linger in the air while Arin fingers herself a bit rougher, moving a bit more frantic, knowing all the signs from experience that she isn't too far from that much craved release.

“Professor," Arin breathes out, the quiver in her voice an obvious indication. Her fingers get so drenched, pulling them out from her heat for a moment to reveal how sticky wet they are as she groans, not bothering to hide how she slides them back in to curl right into herself. "Oh god, professor—“

When the pleasure becomes too much, when her back arches off the desk with breathless cries, there's no missing the split second Arin's entire body tenses up—thighs quivering, fingers buried so deep you can hear the wetness while she shakes on the desk from the intensity of her orgasm. It's a moment of euphoria that's only reached because you're watching so attentively, eyes glued the entire time as she rides her fingers long past completion, toes curling, moans echoing through your small office.

Even when Arin is finished, she's unable to regain her composure for more than a few ragged breaths, eyes still closed while the bliss hits hard, long after her high. And you savor every second of her looking so beautiful in this post-climax haze, an absolute mess on your desk that you’re thankful hasn't soaked into your papers.

"Fuck, that was too good, professor," Arin murmurs, slowly pulling her fingers out from herself, just to rub her oversensitive clit, borderline crying from the overstimulation. “It’s too bad it wasn’t your cock I came on.”

"Then maybe I should deduct points for that?"

"Hey, that's not fair… you just told me—I’d get points for making myself cum."

"I did, but—you would have earned extra for waiting for me to do it. Guess you'll just have to earn back those points another way."

"How exactly should I do that, professor?" Arin asks with the best faux ignorance possible, sitting herself up to scoot off the desk, then leaning down to wrap her slick fingers around your shaft. "If you bend me over and pound me with this cock until your cum is leaking inside me, would that be enough?"

"Perhaps. That would certainly help raise your grade some points.”

"Give it all to me then," she pleads, giving your cock a handful of languid strokes, just enough to leave a nice trail of her slick along the entire length. "Fuck a load into me, professor. Fuck your top student all over this office."

"Top student? Really?" You can't help but laugh at that, knowing full well Arin is certainly anything but. Far from it actually, not even top ten. "Then I better go find her then."

"Hey! Just shut up and give it to me already," Arin says with that pout still intact, keeping these strokes going on your cock that make you throb so easily, and you’re not sure who needs it more at this point.

"Fine, but not here. I'm tired of this place. Let's go somewhere else."

It's rather late into the afternoon, with the majority of classes for the day having ended already. That leaves enough of the campus vacant, lowering the risk of getting caught wherever you decide to take Arin—but the risk still isn't zero. Wandering around the university after hours isn't the best idea, especially when there are plenty of places for students to hang out, and worse, faculty offices open late.

So you keep it simple.

You keep several feet ahead of each other, heading up a couple floors to that really small bathroom by the science department that no one ever uses because it doesn't lock properly. There are much bigger and better bathrooms scattered about, so everyone usually forgets this tiny, shabby thing exists, especially late into the day. Not the most romantic spot, but it’s suitable, and keeps you from scouring the halls without having to dodge other faculty and students.

You enter first, flicking on the light, and do a quick scan around the room while Arin slips in, pulling the door shut as quickly as possible. There's nothing but a toilet, a sink, and a mirror, but most importantly it looks clean, which is the most important thing. It's not that surprising given that nobody really uses it to begin with.

It’s as perfect a place as ever.

Double checking the lock still doesn't work, nothing has changed on that front. Arin quickly moves to lean against the wall, and she’s already unbuttoning her shirt, all the way this time, to give the full view of those perky breasts without any bra to ruin the view. You're on her in a flash, claiming those lips with a kiss full of nothing but aggression to match just how badly you want to ruin this girl right now.

"Fuck me," Arin urges as she palms your bulge through your pants, impatient to get your cock inside of her. Her fingers fumble with the button to your pants, thoughts clouded with desire, and she’s so eager to release your aching shaft, to give it all the attention it so desperately craves.

You’ve got just a modicum of patience left to not let that happen quite yet.

Instead, with your lips still attached, you pick Arin’s slender frame off the ground, and guide her over to the sink, placing her there as gently as you can. When she settles down on the edge of the counter, there's no hesitation to shove that tiny skirt up past her waist, revealing her absolutely beautiful cunt still left glistening in the aftermath of her orgasm from a moment earlier, and you're just dying to fill her all up.

Still, somehow you hold back for a moment, to let it all sink in. The sight is divine enough, this privileged student of yours in this rather pathetic excuse for a school uniform, half naked, shirt wide open with her tits fully out, that barely-there skirt, and those sexy thigh highs that bring all the attention to her immaculate thighs that make you want to ruin her even faster. She knows that’s your biggest weakness, knows how weak in the knees they leave you whenever you get to slide them off with your teeth—but now they make her look like pure sin.

"I know you wanna get that dick in me," she says, voice so sultry, and her thighs spread obscenely wide apart, so that every inch of her mouthwatering cunt is put on display with not a drop of modesty—not like Arin even knows what that word is.

"Not yet. Haven't gotten to taste you today." As per usual, Arin’s been more than a little greedy, and it feels like she’s had her lips on your cock all day and this is the first opportunity to return the favor.

Any protest in those pretty eyes doesn't last when her hands wrap around your skull, drawing your face straight between her thighs that you have no trouble diving into. With your lips feasting on her cunt right off the bat, you give Arin all the attention she craves so badly, licking along the length of her slit, all the way up until your tongue starts flicking at her engorged clit.

"God, so fucking good," Arin breathes out, the silence in the empty bathroom getting cut with all her beautiful moans that ring out. For your efforts, you’re rewarded by her thighs locking around your head, as your lips get a tight seal around her swollen clit that has her grinding that delicious cunt all over your mouth.

"Professor!" she chokes out, while continuing this harsh grip on the back of your head while you slurp on her clit so mercilessly, every bit hungry to taste all those delicious juices that spill out. "Oh my god, professor, oh fuck!"

Your mouth doesn't quit, because nobody tastes better than Arin. You're an addict, every bit obsessed with this girl's cunt since the first time that you slid between these thighs. There's nothing you love more than this, her taste lingering on your tongue, all while these delicious thighs squeeze around your head, suffocating you perfectly as you eat her out with so much fervor she almost can't handle how good you make her feel.

"My god, Yewon—you taste so fucking delicious," you tell her between long licks, slurping on her clit without restraint to savor every last bit of her soaking cunt. "I can eat your pretty pussy all day. For hours and hours."

"I won't say no to that, professor.” Her desperate hands dig into your scalp to hold your face right there, exactly where she wants, where she needs, gasping when her hips grind down against you. "Fuck, your tongue is so, so good."

This is your favorite part about going down on her, being trapped between those perfect thighs that squeeze and tremble while you sloppily eat her out, drowning in her heavenly aroma and all this nectar, her delicious pussy that tastes even better the longer you indulge.

It's never enough though, no matter how much time you get to spend with your tongue buried inside her cunt, or how many times she cums all over your face—the taste of her is heaven, and you love turning this girl into nothing more than a whimpering, quivering mess who can’t even think straight.

"Just like that, professor, fuck, don't stop, oh my god, don't fucking stop, please—“

She whines so freely while grinding down hard against your hungry lips you can hardly breathe. Not that you have any problem about that, because you know exactly where Arin is, can feel those thighs vibrate all around you to know those limits are about to be surpassed, and you don't plan to let up for even a moment.

You ramp up your efforts in devouring her cunt without a moment to rest, your tongue all over her clit, sucking so harshly, so relentlessly, drowning in these delicious juices. It’s obvious how Arin's hips can't stay steady for a second longer, seconds from losing herself entirely. "Professor! Fuck, I'm so fucking close. Keep going, keep—oh fuck, right there, I'm gonna cum so fucking hard, fuck—"

Arin bucks her hips into your face with wild abandon, her juices smearing across your lips when you bring her to the verge of release, until she finally topples over completely.

Everything goes muffled while she keeps her thighs squeezed tightly around your head, violently trembling throughout her orgasm as you lick her through the entire thing. Like every other time you've brought her over that blissful edge, it's beautiful, turning your face into a mess, and you greedily lap up everything that freely spills into your mouth from her overflowing cunt.

When those thighs let off and relax, you look up at Arin's blissed out visage, completely enamored in the pleasure, shivering and trembling with a high-pitched squeal as you give her clit one more loud slurp for good measure. Your focus then shifts back to her messy folds, delving deep into them to clean up those juices she's gushing so profusely, a never ending stream of wet, sticky deliciousness.

"Fuck, your cunt always tastes so amazing," you mutter, lapping at the girl's slick covered thighs, getting out every drop that leaks out with a few soft licks. Arin stays motionless on the counter, looking straight up to the ceiling while her chest heaves, still seeing stars.

After indulging a little while longer, and spending all the time necessary getting those warm thighs mostly clean, there's only one thing left to do. Your mouth pulls away, but only so you can yank your pants down to your ankles, your stiff cock aching to get inside of her.

"Gonna fucking ruin you, Yewon. Hope you’re ready for me to wreck that tight little cunt."

"When am I not? Please, give it to me already," Arin desperately pleads, pulling herself from her haze to look at the throbbing length you're stroking as her eyes beg you to sink in and fill her up.

Sitting herself up on the sink, she keeps herself propped up with her hands planted behind her body, spreading her thighs apart as far as possible, with her wet cunt presented so lewdly and invitingly. "Shove that dick right in me, professor. Give it to me as hard as you can."

Without another thought wasted, you slowly guide the swollen tip of your cock past those drenched lower lips, groaning unabashedly when all this slippery warmth welcomes you deep inside. It's far too easy, how you slide into her, walls so dripping with arousal that allow this ache to dissipate when you effortlessly impale Arin all the way, right to the hilt.

"My god, Yewon, fucking love this tight pussy," you groan as her walls clamp down, holding you right inside that delicious grip with no plans to release you.

She's so soaking wet when you start pounding away inside, each thrust coated in all those messy juices as your cock bottoms out every time. Your deep strokes make full use of her open shirt, causing her modest breasts to bounce as her back hits the mirror with each hard slam. Arin clenches around you with such an unyielding grip as you pump in and out, loving how rough you are, how forceful your hips are, moaning louder and louder, still sensitive from the previous release.

“And I love being stretched on your huge fucking cock.”

There's not an ounce of mercy in your thrusts, just pure carnal lust taking hold. Her wet folds remain parted, taking the full length of your pounding shaft, every last inch driving into that slick little cunt without restraint. You take advantage of how her legs drape over the sink, grabbing her thighs, spreading them to give you more leverage to angle your thrusts deeper, and she kicks her heels off to give you even more control, allowing you to use her body however you please.

"It feels so good, professor," she says, while each thrust stays rough and deliberate, buried to the hilt in her wetness. "This cock of yours—is so perfect."

"That's because your cunt is made for it," you groan, sweat forming on her skin under your grip as your hips slam against her. It's absolute bliss, watching the way her entire body responds each time you sink in, hearing her soft whines that she’s unable to hold any back while getting fucked so mercilessly over this counter top. "You take my cock so well."

"Of course I do," she insists, the biggest grin on her face that gets interrupted with more moans. "I'm the professor's favorite student, after all."

"But definitely the worst one," you fire back, fingertips digging hard into her bare thighs all wrapped up in these sexy thigh high stockings as they jiggle with every relentless thrust.

"So—how many points is this?" Arin asks, bracing herself against the mirror when you pound into her even harder, every inch of your cock covered in her sweet essence.

"As many as you fucking want, Yewon."

"Then make it a thousand. I can use them on the next assignment, right?"

"Use them on whatever you want, the final exam even. So long as I get to cum inside you."

"Of course, professor. Fill me all the way up. Cum inside me as much as you fucking want," she says, and those tits bounce more hypnotically every time you pick up the pace, slamming deeper with more force each time. After every plunge balls deep, that tightness becomes more overwhelming, urging you to give your all, as if the sight of her all sprawled out and creaming on your cock isn't enough already.

It's merciless. And your hips start to reach their limit, but Arin's desperate cries of pleasure become so loud, that she has no choice but to muffle herself with her hand, almost forgetting that this seldom used bathroom is still right by the science lab—and anyone could be lingering around.

"Fucking fill me, professor. Empty your balls. Just keep—oh god, fuck, fuck," Arin whimpers, the limits of her body creeping up fast as your cock pistons so harshly in and out of her hot cunt. "Wanna milk every last drop right out of you, make you cum so fucking hard."

"Only if you’re good and cum on this cock, Yewon. Cum all over me, and I'll fucking fill this cunt up."

"Yes, god, yes," she says, practically falling back against the mirror while you brutally hammer into her at full force. She barely keeps the coherence when it all peaks, when you feel those impossibly tight walls clenching around your cock, borderline painful, forcing you to use every ounce of strength to not burst inside her just yet.

"Fuck, professor, this dick is so amazing—I'm gonna cum all over it, all over your fucking huge cock," Arin says as her pussy squeezes the life out of your cock with every impale in that wet, intoxicating heat. A flood of her fluids almost forces you out, an absolute mess that drowns your shaft in slick rips through her body without any care, and all you can do is fuck her through it.

Even when her orgasm subsides, and she somehow becomes tighter, wetter, easier to sink into, you don't show any remorse while fucking her tight pussy until you can't possibly hold on any further.

"You're close, aren't you, professor?" Arin gasps between collecting her breath as the pleasure begins to fade, watching the struggle you're going through to hold it back. "I know you are. Please, let me have all that cum. Blow your fucking load in me, let it all out."

That's all you need to be shoved straight over the edge, taking a few final strokes before that pressure builds up to a boiling point, and nothing’s going to stop you when you’re about to burst. “Yewon—“

Her name barely escapes before you’re throbbing, letting out all types of lustful grunts while her pussy smothers you in warmth, offering the best place for such a messy release of seed that shoots out, coating her insides the way she begs for.

Your cock violently pulsates until you’re left with nothing but orgasmic relief, unloading shot after shot deep inside Arin with the thickest spurts imaginable that empty into her warm little pussy. These tight, tight walls take every drop, welcoming such a huge load that’s even somehow stronger than what her mouth did to you earlier.

There’s no way you could do anything else with how delicious she looks on this bathroom counter. With whatever remnants of energy are left, you use all the power in your hips until they lose steam, remaining inside her euphoric cunt that refuses to relinquish you. You ride out wave after wave, each spasm pumping more cum into her, all this intoxicating bliss that feels like it’ll never end.

And truly, both of you wish it never would.

“Professor…” Arin can barely speak between breaths, riding this collective high that fills the room with heavy panting, and sweat glistens on whatever bare skin her revealing outfit offers. You’re right there with her, caressing her thighs, her messy cunt wringing out as much out of you as possible, like it doesn’t want your cock to escape, even after your entire load is buried inside that delicious warmth.

“Came so hard on you, professor, fuck... I love the way your cum feels when you push it deeper, all the way into my womb. Wanna keep it all here until you’re ready for round two.”

"You're fucking insatiable, Yewon," you sigh, dropping Arin's legs back onto the counter, which relinquishes the intense grip you’ve held, allowing her body a chance to relax. When your breathing returns to something somewhat stable, you lean over to give her a tired kiss, one that’s easily returned with whatever remaining energy she has.

“Can you blame me when your dick is this good? It’s only your fault I turned into such a greedy little cumslut.”

“Or maybe you were already like that before I even met you…"

"Yeah. Maybe."

Arin looks away as she starts to giggle, giving you a perfect chance to kiss that exposed cheek. When she glances back, you share an impossibly long stare, one that goes on far too long without words until you lean in for another kiss—

One that gets interrupted by a knock at the door.

"Hello? Is anyone there? Custodial services, I'm here to clean up."

You must have angered some kind of god for this to happen two times in one day. Even worse, there’s no easy way out of this while you're still buried inside Arin, the least of your concerns as this creamy mess threatens to spill out.

"I, uh—need a moment. Spilled something on my shirt that won't come out. Be out in a bit," you blurt out, barely thinking while you look around at the poor bathroom that's been defiled. Arin can't help herself, covering her mouth to help from not immediately bursting into laughter as she fumbles to button back up her shirt.

“You’re such a bad liar,” Arin whispers, but you just roll your eyes at her, glancing over the sweat on her body that you’d no doubt be licking clean were the two of you not nervously waiting to see if this unfamiliar man outside will buy your story.

"No problem, sir. Take your time, I'll be back after.” The janitor shuffles his feet, and you listen carefully, wondering just how obvious the two of you were being. When you can no longer hear footsteps, you release the longest sigh, and slowly pull out of Arin, along with an utterly unreal amount of hot semen that spills out.

"Can't believe he bought that," Arin sighs while hopping off the counter, where more of your cum gushes out as soon as she stands up. "Can't believe you came so much inside me, either."

"If I recall, you were quite literally begging me not to stop."

"No need to be smug about it, professor."

Arin does her best to look presentable in the mirror and fix her disheveled hair, shirt only half buttoned, and skirt a complete mess, but it all seems so futile. There's no real way to hide how she looks after getting railed over the sink relentlessly, or the cum still dripping all over her thighs that she doesn't even bother to clean up.

"We should get out of here before he comes back," Arin says after giving her appearance a once-over, making any minor adjustment to try and fix how ruined she looks. "Shall I leave first, professor?"

The question has only one obvious answer, but you still can't form your lips properly to speak it. "Not so fast, Miss Choi."

"Oh? Am I forgetting something?" Arin asks while running fingers through her hair again. You step towards her, pressing into her back to wrap your arms around her tiny frame before planting a kiss on the side of her neck.

"Yeah—me. You're not leaving this room without me."

You notice her grin in the mirror as your lips graze her skin again, nipping right on that sensitive spot that makes her gasp.

"Don't tell me you're wanting to go again. After we almost got caught. Again—"

"No, not yet," you say between kisses, drawing closer and closer up her neck. "Need a little bit more rest for that."

"You poor thing. Did my pussy wear you out that much, professor?"

"You can barely stand upright as it is," you retort, taking your mouth away from her neck for a moment. Arin stifles a laugh that turns into a moan when your hand creeps up her skirt to touch her dripping folds still leaking your cum. "You need this a lot more than I do."

"Is that so? Well—fuck," Arin moans, unable to hide her body betraying her words as she grips the edge of the counter when two of your fingers slide into her without warning, pushing a mixture of her nectar and the load you pumped inside deep into her messy cunt.

"It's too bad I can't continue this," you say, and withdraw those fingers from Arin's clenching pussy that so desperately tries to keep them in to no avail. "Let's get out of here. But you're not leaving my side."

"If you insist, professor." Arin has no further words, fixing up her skirt while so much thick seed oozes beneath. "But isn't it a little risky to leave together?"

"Probably. But besides, even if somebody does see us, so what? There's not much they can do about it even if they can already tell what just happened. And what are you always saying—how much you love the risk?"

"Guess I'm rubbing off on you, hmm?"

"Not a chance, Miss Choi," you correct, causing that grin across her face to grow wider. "I'm just tired of sneaking around so much."

"Me too, professor."

You turn to leave, opening the bathroom door to poke your head around the corner. Luckily, there doesn't seem to be anyone around, only a couple of students you don't recognize standing nearby chatting, paying no mind as you and Arin sneak out successfully together.

“Where are we headed?” asks Arin as she settles in right next to you, something that's going to take getting used to.

"Dunno. Cafeteria is still open. Guess we can head there first."

"Not if it's still raining. It's a bit of a trek, isn't it?"

"My car's right out front. And if we so happen to take a little detour..."

"Now who's being insatiable, professor?" she asks, with this little teasing giggle in her voice.

“What? Who said I planned on doing anything with you other than grabbing some dinner? You know, I don't think you've had anything in your mouth today but my—"

"Professor!" Arin's not used to your conversation being this open, or being on the opposite side of being so flustered. "Save it for when we're not outside! Or better, the back seat. With the doors locked, preferably."

"As you wish, Miss Choi. Besides, but there's nothing I rather eat than your—"

She desperately covers your mouth to stop any further words from escaping as you head to the parking lot, surprised to see there's nothing but abundant sunshine now. Even more surprising is the fact nobody looks twice as the two of you walk together. Maybe it's luck, or maybe everybody here knows damn well what happens on campus between you two.

And maybe you'll stop sneaking around campus every day, finding just enough time to spend the last half of your lunch hour buried between Arin’s thighs while she tries to hold her moans.

But maybe you won't.

#kpop smut #reader insert #arin smut #oh my girl smut #girl group smut #kpop fanfic #male reader #kpop fanfiction

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vanteguccir · 5 months ago

Note

i can’t stop thinking about when matt has been gone for a while and ur too tight and he gets frustrated because he keeps slipping out 😣

── ୨୧ !　a small blurb where Matt's cock keeps slipping out of you after he was away for too long

　　　　　　　　𝒎𝒂𝒕𝒕 𝒔𝒕𝒖𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒐𝒍𝒐 x reader

Matt had been gone for three long weeks, traveling with his brothers, and every day without him had felt like an eternity for Y/N. The moment he walked through the bedroom door, the air between them was charged with unspoken desire. They barely managed to exchange a few words before they were all over each other, lips crashing together with full force.

Matt's hands roamed over Y/N's body, relearning every curve, every dip that he had missed so much. Y/N's fingers tangled in his hair, pulling him closer as if she could never get enough of him. They stumbled towards the bed, shedding clothes along the way.

By the time they reached it, Y/N was breathless, her body trembling with anticipation. Matt's eyes were dark with lust as he looked down at her, his chest heaving. He took a moment to just drink her in, the sight of her lying there, waiting for him, driving him wild. He leaned down, capturing her lips in a deep, possessive kiss, his tongue exploring her mouth with a hunger that mirrored her own.

Matt's hands were everywhere, caressing, squeezing, and teasing, eliciting soft moans from Y/N's lips. He kissed his way down her neck, over her collarbone, and to her tits, taking one nipple into his mouth and sucking gently before giving the same attention to the other. Y/N arched her back, pressing herself against him, desperate for more.

When Matt finally positioned himself between her legs, Y/N was already wet and ready for him, her body aching with need. He took his time, teasing her folds with the head of his cock, spreading her arousal over himself.

She whimpered, her hips bucking, wanting more. But as he began to push inside her, he found it difficult. She was so tight, her body not having had him for so long that he could barely get the head in.

"God, babe." He groaned, his voice rough with need. "You're so tight... I can't..." He tried again, pushing slowly, savoring the way her body enveloped him, but just as he felt the head slip inside, it popped back out.

The sensation was maddening for both of them. The brief moment of penetration sent jolts of pleasure through Matt, making his breath hitch, and his grip on her thighs tighten. For Y/N, the feeling of being stretched, even momentarily, was electrifying. But each time he slipped out, it left them both on the edge, the pleasure cut short.

"Fucking hell, angel. How could you even become this tight? Never been like this since I fucked y' for the first time."

Matt's jaw clenched in frustration. He adjusted his angle, trying to find a way to ease himself in without losing control. He pressed forward again, feeling the delicious resistance as her tightness gave way, the head of his cock slipping just inside her entrance. The sensation was exquisite, her heat and tightness making his whole body shiver. But as he tried to push further, he slipped out again, the sudden loss of contact leaving him groaning in frustration.

Y/N could see the tension in his eyes, the way his muscles strained as he tried to control himself, a moan scaping her lips with the vision, moving her hips.

But Matt's patience was wearing thin. The weeks apart, the constant longing, and now the barrier between them, it was all too much. With a growl of frustration, he tried again, the head slipping in and out, each time sending a shock of pleasure through them both. The sensation was intoxicating, the constant edging driving them both wild with need.

"Look at you." Matt growled, his voice low and harsh. "So tight, can't even take me properly." He pushed in again, only to slip out, and Y/N whimpered at the loss. "Pathetic, huh, angel? Desperate for it, and yet your body can't handle it. Can't handle my cock."

Y/N's breaths came in quick, shallow gasps as she felt him tease her entrance again and again. The brief moments of penetration were enough to send sparks of pleasure through her, making her body tremble. But each time he slipped out, the pleasure was abruptly cut off, leaving her whimpering for more.

Matt's frustration reached its peak. The need to be inside her overwhelmed him. With a growl, he gripped her hips tightly, knowing for sure her skin would be bruised by morning, and thrust forward with force, burying himself inside her in one swift, deep stroke.

Y/N cried out, a mix of pain and pleasure as he filled her completely, her body stretching to accommodate him. The initial pain of his forceful entry sent a shockwave through her, but it was quickly overtaken by a flood of intense pleasure. Her body trembled uncontrollably, her eyes rolling back in her head as she struggled to breathe. The sensation of being so utterly filled, so completely taken, made her stomach flutter wildly.

"Fuck, angel." Matt groaned, his voice thick with desire. "You're so tight, squeezing me so good... It's like you were made for me."

"Oh, Matt..." She moaned, her voice trembling. "So good... so full..."

Matt's eyes locked onto hers, his own breath ragged.

"You okay?" He asked, his voice low and strained, a drop of concern despite his overwhelming need.

Y/N nodded, her body still quivering.

"Yes... don't stop... please..."

Matt didn't need any further encouragement. He began to move, pulling out almost completely before slamming back inside her with a force that made her gasp. Each thrust was hard and deep, the sound of their bodies colliding filling the room.

The combination of pain and pleasure was intoxicating for Y/N. Every time he slammed into her, it sent a jolt of sensation through her entire body, making her toes curl and her fingers dig into his back. Her eyes rolled back in her head again, her vision going white with the intensity of it all. The fluttering in her stomach grew more intense, spreading warmth through her entire core.

Matt's pace was relentless, each thrust harder and more powerful than the last. The pleasure built within Y/N, a tidal wave of sensation that grew stronger with every moment. She could feel her orgasm building, the pressure mounting with every thrust.

"Matt... I'm so close... Fuck." She gasped, her voice barely more than a whisper.

"Yeah, angel?" He groaned, his own voice filled with strain. "Hold on... just a little longer..."

Y/N held on as best she could, her body writhing beneath him, every nerve ending on fire. When her orgasm finally crashed over her, it was like nothing she had ever experienced. Her entire body convulsed, her muscles tightening around him, her cry of ecstasy filling the room.

Matt let out a guttural growl as he felt her clench around him, squeezing him completely, his own release crashing over him with a force that left him shaking. He buried himself deep inside her, spilling into her with a final, powerful thrust.

For a moment, they were both still, their bodies pressed together, the only sound their heavy breathing. Then Matt collapsed beside her, pulling her close, their sweaty bodies still tangled together.

"Missed you. So much." He murmured, pressing a kiss to her forehead.

#⋆౨ৎ˚ 𝒍𝒆𝒍𝒆 𝒂𝒔𝒌𝒔 #matt sturniolo #matt sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo x reader fluff #matt sturniolo x reader blurb #matt sturniolo x reader smut #matt sturniolo blurb #matt sturniolo fluff #sturniolo x reader #sturniolo triplets #chris sturniolo #nick sturniolo #blurb #smut

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mapis-putellas · 1 month ago

Text

𝑾𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒐𝒏𝒄𝒆 𝒘𝒂𝒔/𝑨.𝑷𝒖𝒕𝒆𝒍𝒍𝒂𝒔

Okay, so I have no idea how many words this is, but it’s super freaking long and I had to stop here before I went too crazy. I think the ending is perfect, but I can do a part 2 if enough of you guys want it. Enjoy <3

The flat felt emptier than usual, though Alexia's familiar presence still lingered in the small things. The scent of her perfume on the throw blanket draped over the couch, the mug she always used sitting on the counter, the neatly folded laundry on the chair that you hadn't yet put away. But these reminders weren't enough anymore. They only made the emptiness sharper, the silence heavier.

You sighed as you sat on the edge of the couch, scrolling through your phone without really looking at the screen. Alexia wouldn't be home for another few hours—some team meeting or another. The time alone had become routine, almost expected. She'd walk in, tired, offer you a quiet smile, and head straight for the shower. Then you'd both go to bed, lying on opposite sides, separated by an invisible wall that neither of you seemed willing to breach.

It wasn't always like this. Once, not so long ago, the flat had been filled with laughter and warmth. You remembered how Alexia used to pull you into her arms the moment she walked through the door, murmuring sweet words in Spanish as she peppered soft kisses to any part of your face she could reach. How you'd both stay up late talking, sharing dreams and fears like you were the only two people in the world.

But those moments felt distant now, like they belonged to another version of you—of what you used to be.

When Arsenal had reached out with an offer, you hadn't hesitated to listen. The idea of leaving Barcelona, of leaving Alexia, should've filled you with dread, but it didn't. Instead, it felt like relief. A chance to escape the slow unraveling of your relationship before it completely came apart and hurt you both beyond repair in the process.

You weren't sure if Alexia would fight to keep you here, and that uncertainty hurt more than you cared to admit.

The sound of keys in the lock broke through your thoughts. You looked up as Alexia stepped inside, her hair tied back in a low bun, a tired but polite smile on her lips. She looked beautiful, as always, but there was a hesitance in her movements, like she wasn't sure how to approach you anymore.

"Hola," she said softly, setting her bag down by the door, kicking off her shoes that land on the carpeted floor with a soft thud.

"Hi," you replied, forcing a smile that you knew didn't reach your eyes.

She hesitated for a moment, like she wanted to say something, but instead she simply nodded in acknowledgment and headed toward the bathroom. The sound of the shower running filled the silence, and you sank back against the couch, the weight of everything pressing down on you. You made your way to bed eventually, and you found Alexia already asleep, curled up at the very edge of the bed. You stared at her for a second, swallowing the tightness in your throat as you climbed in next to her and tugged the blankets up to your waist.

You laid on your side, hand instinctively reaching out to touch her, but it fell short, simply skimming the material of her T-shirt. One of her own. Not yours like it once had been. A single tear fell then, tickling your skin as it glided down your cheek. After a second, you turned to face away from her, the distance between you both feeling bigger than ever.

The next morning, Alexia was already gone when you woke up. A note on the counter told you she had an early training session. You stared at her neat handwriting for a moment, the words blurring slightly as tears pricked at your eyes.

This wasn't how it was supposed to be. She was supposed to wake you up with soft touches and kisses, coaxing you into the shower whilst she cooked breakfast so you could both head to training together. Just like you used to do.

You decided to call in sick to training, and unlike she would have done before, Alexia doesn't call to check in; to ask where you were or if you were okay. It only made your decision all the more clear. You spend the day mulling over it, replaying the offer from Arsenal in your mind. It wasn't just about the opportunity to play for a new team, not anymore. It was about starting over. Finding yourself again.

By the time Alexia came home that evening, you had made up your mind.

"Can we talk?" you asked as she walked into the living room.

Her brows furrowed slightly, but she nodded, sitting down on the couch next to you.

You hesitated as you turned to face her, your hands twisting nervously in your lap. "Arsenal made me an offer," you said finally, your voice barely above a whisper.

Alexia's eyes widened slightly, and for a moment, she didn't say anything. When she finally spoke, her voice was quiet. "You... you are leaving?"

"I haven't decided yet," you admitted, though the words felt like a lie.

Her gaze dropped to her hands, her fingers fidgeting with the hem of her shirt. "Why?"

"Alexia..." You sighed, struggling to find the right words. "Things between us, they're not the same anymore. We're not the same anymore."

She looked up at you, her brown eyes filled with something you couldn't quite place—hurt, maybe, or regret. "You don't want to try?"

"I don't even know if we can fix this," you admitted, your voice breaking slightly. "We barely see each other. We barely talk. I just... I don't know if this is what you want anymore."

Her jaw tightened, and she looked away, her hands clenching into fists. "I want you," she said, her accent thick with emotion. "But you—you are leaving."

"I don't have to."

The silence that followed was deafening. You wanted her to fight for you, to beg you to stay, but instead, she just sat there, her shoulders slumping under the weight of your words.

"I need to think," you said finally, standing up. "I'll stay at a hotel tonight."

She didn't try to stop you as you grabbed your bag you'd packed earlier and walked out the door. It closed behind you with a click that sounded deafening, final, and she didn't try and follow you. Your eyes stung with the familiar sensation of tears as you made your way to your car, a single one falling, staining your skin as you slumped into the drivers seat. You glanced at the house again, begging, hoping the door would open and Alexia would appear and plead with you to stay. But the door stayed closed, and the place Alexia would have once stood remained empty.

Feeling emptier than you ever had before, you started the car.

The hotel room felt cold and impersonal, but it was a welcome distraction from the heaviness of the flat. You spent hours staring at the ceiling, replaying the conversation -or lack there of, with Alexia over and over in your mind. You loved her. That was never the problem. Had never been the problem. But love wasn't always enough, and you weren't sure if you could keep pretending that it was.

Sleep didn't come easy that night.

The next morning, as you were packing up your things, there was a knock at your door. It was quiet, almost as though the person on the other side had no intention of you really hearing it. But you had. You opened the door to find Alexia standing there, her eyes red-rimmed and tired. She was holding a small box, her hands trembling slightly as she held it out to you.

"What's this?" you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

She didn't answer, just motioned for you to open it. You do, and inside was a simple silver bracelet, engraved with the coordinates of the place where you'd first met. The Barça training grounds.

"I bought this for you," she said quietly, her voice halting and unsure. "But I... I never gave it to you. I was waiting for the right time."

Tears filled your eyes as you looked up at her. "Alexia..."

"I know I make mistakes," she said, her voice trembling. "But I love you. And I want to fix this. Please... don't go."

For the first time in weeks, you felt a flicker of hope. Maybe things weren't perfect, but they didn't have to be. Maybe you could find your way back to each other. Just like how you used to be.

You reached out, taking her hand in yours and squeezing softly. "I love you too," you said. "Let's figure this out. Together."

And for the first time in a long time, Alexia smiled—a real, genuine smile that made you feel like maybe, just maybe, everything would be okay.

But things don't always turn out like you wish.

The days passed in a blur of routines and rehearsed smiles, but no matter how much effort you and Alexia put into trying to mend the fractures in your relationship, something always felt off. Scheduled date nights became more of an obligation than a joy, a box to tick off in your shared attempts to fix what had once been effortless.

Dinners at your favorite restaurants were filled with polite conversation, a stark contrast to the laughter and shared glances that used to make the world feel smaller. When you went on walks, the silences felt heavier, stretched thin by the weight of everything that neither of you could bring yourselves to say. Even your rare lazy mornings together, which had once been sacred, now felt stilted, like two strangers trying too hard to find a common ground that had long since eroded.

You wanted to believe you could fix it. You both did. But the truth was undeniable. No amount of effort could recreate the spark that had gone out. And the harder you tried, the more apparent it became that you weren't meant to keep holding on.

You sat on the edge of the bed one night, staring at your phone but not really seeing the screen. Alexia was beside you, scrolling through her own phone, but the expression on her face was undecipherable. The space between you felt bigger than ever, and you knew she felt it too.

You thought about the Arsenal offer again. It had been weeks since you'd spoken to Alexia about it, but the idea had never left your mind. At first, you had dismissed it as an impulsive reaction to your struggles, a way to escape the pain of watching your relationship crumble into pieces. But the more time that passed, the more it felt like the right choice. Not just for your career, but for your sanity—and for Alexia's.

The thought of leaving her hurt, but not in the way you had expected. It wasn't the gut-wrenching agony you'd always imagined a breakup with Alexia would bring. Instead, it felt like a quiet sadness, a dull ache that you knew would fade with time.

You had been torturing yourself with the decision for days, envisioning the hurt in her eyes, the betrayal she would undoubtedly feel. But no matter how much you agonized over it, the answer was clear

Neither of you could heal while you were still together.

When you finally made the decision, it didn't bring the relief you had hoped for. Instead, it left you with a sense of finality, a heavy weight in your chest. You knew you needed to tell Alexia, but every time you tried, the words caught in your throat. Like there was something in the way.

It wasn't until a week later that you found the courage to say what needed to be said.

You came home from speaking to Jonatan to find Alexia in the kitchen, chopping vegetables for dinner. She glanced up when you walked in, offering you a small smile that didn't quite reach her eyes.

"Hola," she said softly, her accent still as endearing as ever.

"Hi," you replied, leaning against the counter as you watched her. Your heart ached at the sight of her, at the knowledge of what you were about to do.

"I need to talk to you," you said, your voice trembling slightly.

Alexia froze, her knife hovering over the cutting board. After a second, she set it down carefully before turning to face you, her expression wary.

"What is it?" she asked, her eyes searching yours.

You took a deep breath, steeling yourself for what was to come. "I've decided to take the Arsenal offer."

Her eyes widened, and for a moment, she didn't say anything. The silence in the room felt heavy. When she finally spoke, her voice was barely above a whisper. "You're leaving?"

"I think it's the best thing for both of us," you said, your throat tight. You couldn't cry. Not now. "We've been trying so hard, but it's not working, Alexia. We can't keep pretending that everything is okay when it's evidently clear it's not."

Her jaw clenched, and she looked away, her hands gripping the edge of the counter. "I thought we were fixing it," she said, her voice trembling. "I thought we were trying."

"We were," you said, stepping closer to her. "But trying isn't enough. We're forcing something that isn't there anymore, and it's not fair to either of us."

She turned back to you, tears glistening in her eyes. The sight stung more than you thought it would. "So that's it? You're just leaving?"

"I don't want to hurt you," you said, your own voice breaking. "that's the last thing I ever want to do. But I can't stay and keep pretending that this is going to work. We deserve better than this, Alexia. Both of us."

Her shoulders slumped, and you knew she knew you were right. She let out a shaky breath. "I don't know how to say goodbye to you," she said, her voice choked.

You felt tears spill down your cheeks as you reached out, taking her hands in yours. "You don't have to say goodbye," you said softly. "We'll always have a connection, Alexia. It's inevitable. But we can't keep holding onto something that's only hurting us."

She nodded slowly, her tears falling freely now. "I love you," she whispered.

"I love you too," you whisper, tugging on her hand and pulling her into your arms. She fell limp against you, arms clinging to your waist as she shook with silent sobs. You buried your face into her neck, taking in her smell, her touch. The way her hands fist your shirt tightly, like she was terrified to let go. It was the first time you'd held her in what felt like months. After a moment, you pulled away, your trembling hands reaching up to cup her cheeks. She stared at you, eyes shiny and cheeks wet. She leaned into your touch, and you smiled sadly as you gently wipe away the tears beneath her eyes. "And that's why I have to do this." You just manage to choke out.

Alexia's bottom lip trembled, and you pursed your own lips to stop them from doing the same as you pulled her back into your arms. This time, you allowed yourself to cry too.

The next few weeks were a whirlwind of packing, paperwork, and goodbyes. Alexia helped you with everything, even though you knew it was killing her to watch you go. To leave the life you both knew so well behind. She was even there when you packed up the last of your things, her quiet presence a comfort even in the midst of the heartbreak.

On your last night in Barcelona, you sat together on the couch, a glass of wine in each of your hands. The silence between you was heavy, but not uncomfortable.

"I'm going to miss you," Alexia said finally, her voice barely above a whisper. You glanced at her to see her looking down at the glass she had resting on her leg, finger tip tracing over the rim.

"I'm going to miss you too," you replied, your heart aching at the thought of leaving her. She looked up at you, and the unmistakable shine of tears in her eyes was back. You reached forward, setting your wine onto the coffee table before holding out your arm. Alexia sniffled as she placed her glass next to your own before scooting closer, curling up against your side and laying her head against chest. You wrapped your arm around her shoulders, squeezing softly as you rest your cheek against the top of her head. No more words were spoken. They didn't need to be. What was done, was done, and now, you were just making the most of having her close.

When it was time to leave, she walked you to the door, her hand lingering in yours as she said goodbye.

"Take care of yourself," she said, her voice trembling.

"You too," you replied, leaning in to press a gentle kiss to her cheek.

And then you were gone, stepping outside with your bags in tow. Alexia remained in the threshold of the doorway as you packed your things into the trunk of your car, and as much as it pained you to do so, you ignore the quivering breaths that escape her lips as she tried, yet failed to hold herself together. As you opened the drivers side door, you glanced back at her one last time. She was frozen in place, arms crossed against her chest in what you knew was a futile effort at comforting herself.

You couldn't bring yourself to do anything more than lift your hand, a silent, yet almost pathetic bid goodbye. Alexia mimicked it, and you stare at her for just a second longer before finally getting into the car. You hear the quiet sob that escaped her lips just as you closed the door, and your own vision became blurry with tears you refused to let fall. As you start the car and put it into drive, you drive off into the quiet of the night without glancing back.

The flight to London was quiet, giving you plenty of time to reflect on everything that had happened. You knew you had made the right decision, but that didn't make it any easier. Starting over would be hard, you know that, but you were determined to find yourself again—to rediscover the passion and joy that had brought you to football in the first place.

And as much as it hurt to leave Alexia behind, you knew that this was the best thing for both of you. It was the only way to truly heal.

Settling into Arsenal was easier than you ever could have imagined. From the moment you stepped foot on the training pitch, you were greeted with smiles, playful banter, and an atmosphere that felt both warm and inviting. The team had an undeniable companionship, one you hadn't realized how much you missed. It wasn't just the people, though; it was the environment as a whole. Arsenal gave you space to breathe, to be yourself, and to rediscover the parts of football that made you fall in love with it in the first place.

Barça had once given you that too, at the beginning. But when your relationship with Alexia started to crumble, so had your relationship with the people you had once called your friends. Every interaction with them had felt forced, fake, even. The truth was you had never wanted them to know just what was going on behind the scenes when they weren’t there. You hadn’t wanted them to think they had to take sides.

For the first time in months, you felt truly free. Free from the weight of trying to fix something that was irreparable. Free from the guilt and the pain that had clung to you after leaving Alexia. And as difficult as it had been to walk away from her and everything you'd built together, you realized now it had been the right decision.

It wasn't immediate, of course. The first few weeks were a blur of adjusting to a new city, new teammates, and a new routine. But once you found your footing, you began to feel the joy creeping back in. The rush of adrenaline during a perfectly timed tackle, the satisfaction of weaving a pass through a crowded midfield, the way your teammates celebrated every small victory as if it were monumental—it all reminded you why you'd worked so hard to make it big in the first place.

And then there was Leah.

Leah Williamson, the team's captain and all-around golden girl, had been one of the first to welcome you. She'd offered you a tour of the facilities, introduced you to everyone, and made it her personal mission to ensure you felt at home. She had a heart of gold and a quick wit that often had you crying with laughter during team dinners. Her energy was infectious, and her kindness knew no bounds too.

At first, you didn't think much of it. Leah was friendly with everyone, so it wasn't surprising that she'd taken you under her wing. But as the weeks turned into months, you began to notice the little things. The way her gaze lingered on you a moment too long during training. The way she always seemed to find her way to your side during team activities. The way she'd offer to drive you home after late practices, even if it meant going out of her way.

You couldn't deny the connection between you, but the scars from your relationship with Alexia were still too raw to even think about dating again. You needed time to heal, to find yourself again. So, when Leah's shy advances became more apparent, you gently and kindly turned her down.

She never took it personally, though. Leah was patient, understanding, and never once made you feel pressured. Instead, she remained a constant source of support and friendship, always there with a warm smile or a sarcastic comment to make your day just that bit better.

By the time five months had passed, you were in a completely different place than when you first arrived. You felt stronger, both physically and mentally, lighter, and more like yourself than you had in a long time. And while you hadn't planned on falling for anyone, Leah somehow made it happen.

It started subtly, almost imperceptibly. The way your heart skipped a beat when she laughed. The way her touch lingered on your arm when she passed you a water bottle during breaks. The way she always seemed to know exactly what to say to calm your nerves before a big match without even trying.

You tried to ignore it at first, convincing yourself it was nothing more than a harmless crush. But the more time you spent with Leah, the harder it became to deny your feelings.

Three months after Leah first made her interest known, you found yourself standing outside the training ground, her car idling nearby as she waited for you. She'd offered to drive you home again, as she often did, and you'd agreed without hesitation.

As you slid into the passenger seat, you glanced over at her, taking in the way the golden evening light framed her face. She looked at you with that familiar, easy smile, and you felt something shift inside you.

"Leah," you said, your voice softer than you intended.

"Yeah?" she replied, turning to face you fully.

You hesitated for a moment, your hands fidgeting in your lap. "Would you... maybe want to grab dinner or something this weekend? Just the two of us?"

Her eyes widened slightly, and for a moment, you worried you'd misread everything. But then her smile grew, lighting up her entire face.

"I'd love to," she said, her voice warm.

And it was casual at first. You didn't go on any grand, elaborate dates. Instead, you kept things low-key, easing into the idea of a relationship and seeing where it might lead. You'd grab coffee after practice, watch movies at her place, or take long walks through the city, talking about everything and nothing all at the same time.

Leah never rushed you, never pushed for more than you were ready to give. And for that, you were endlessly grateful. She made you feel safe, cherished, and most importantly, like you could be yourself.

One evening, you found yourself curled up on Leah's couch, a bowl of popcorn balanced precariously on your lap as a movie played on the TV. Leah sat beside you, her arm draped casually along the back of the couch and over your shoulders.

As the credits rolled, you turned to her, a soft smile tugging at your lips. "You know," you said, your tone teasing, "I never thought I'd end up here."

"On my couch, stealing my popcorn?" she quipped, raising an eyebrow.

You laughed, nudging her playfully. "No, I mean... with you. After everything that happened, I didn't think I'd ever feel this way again."

Leah's expression softened, and she reached out to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. "You deserve to be happy," she said simply. "And if I can be the one to make you happy, then that's all I want."

Your heart melted at her words, and for the first time in a long time, you felt like you were exactly where you were meant to be.

As the weeks turned into months, your relationship with Leah grew stronger. She became your rock, your confidante, and your biggest cheerleader. And though the memories of your past relationship with Alexia still lingered, they no longer weighed you down like an anchor to shore.

You were finally moving forward, and with Leah by your side, you knew you could face whatever challenges came your way.

Because sometimes, love wasn't about grand gestures or sweeping romances. Sometimes, it was about finding someone who made you feel whole, who reminded you of all the reasons you deserved to be happy.

And Leah did exactly that.

The Emirates Stadium buzzed with anticipation, the Arsenal fans creating an atmosphere so loud and electric you could almost feel it in your bones. But none of it seemed to register with you as you stood in the tunnel, waiting to step out onto the pitch. Your heart was pounding for a reason that had nothing to do with nerves about the match.

Barcelona.

And Alexia.

You hadn't spoken to her in months. Not since the last awkward exchange after you'd left for Arsenal. She hadn't reached out, and neither had you. It was better that way. Cleaner. But the silence didn't mean you hadn't thought about her. Late at night, when your mind wandered, or when something small reminded you of her, the memories crept in. You'd even caught yourself scrolling through her Instagram more times than you cared to admit, trying to piece together what her life looked like now you weren’t in it.

But absolutely nothing could have prepared you for seeing her in person again.

As the line-up for the match formed in the tunnel, your gaze was drawn to the familiar blonde ahead of you. Her back was to you, the number 11 stitched across her Barça kit. She looked the same, yet entirely different. Her posture was as composed and confident as always, the way it had been every time she'd led her team.

You tried to focus elsewhere. On the way Leah stood next to you, her fingers subtly brushing against yours in quiet reassurance. On the way your Arsenal teammates were joking to ease the tension. But no matter how much you tried to ground yourself, your eyes found their way back to Alexia.

And then she turned.

Her head tilted slightly as her gaze swept over the line-up behind her, landing on you. For a moment, her expression was unreadable. Then, her lips curved into a soft, familiar smile, one that held all the tenderness and intimacy of the countless nights you'd spent wrapped up in each other.

It all but knocked the air from your lungs.

"Hey, you alright?" Leah's voice pulled you back to reality, her hand brushing against your arm as she stepped closer.

You tore your gaze from Alexia, looking up at Leah's concerned face. You nodded quickly ignoring the guilt and forcing a smile. "Yeah, I'm fine," you said, the words a little too quick, a little too forced. But Leah didn't seem to notice. She gave you a small smile of her own before turning back to face the pitch, her focus already shifting to the game.

You wished it was that easy for you.

From the first whistle, the match was intense. Arsenal and Barcelona were two of the best teams in the world, and it showed in every pass, every tackle, every movement on the pitch. The pace was relentless, the energy palpable and consuming.

But as much as you tried to focus, to pour everything into the game, you couldn't stop your mind from drifting. Every time Alexia touched the ball, every time you caught her in your peripheral vision, it was like a weight pressing down on your chest. Heavy and restricting.

It wasn't that you wanted to be with her again. At least, you didn't think so. Things with Leah were good—great, even. She was everything you'd ever hoped for in a partner: kind, funny, supportive, and so easy to love. But seeing Alexia again brought back all the memories you'd worked so hard to bury. The good times, the bad times, and everything in between.

At one point in the first half, Alexia came close, her quick feet dancing around the ball as she tried to get past you. You stepped in, cutting her off and forcing her to pass back. As the play shifted, her eyes met yours for a fleeting second. There was no smile this time, just a look you couldn't quite place.

It was enough to throw you off, and you missed the call to press higher up the pitch. Leah's voice rang out behind you, sharp and commanding as she directed the team. You snapped out of it, refocusing on the game, but the moment stayed with you.

By halftime, the score was still 0-0, both teams locked in a draw. As you made your way to the locker room with the rest of the team, Leah fell into step beside you.

"You've been quiet," she said, her tone casual but laced with concern.

"Just focused," you replied, hoping it sounded convincing. You knew deep down it didn’t.

Leah gave you a small nod, her gaze lingering on you for a moment before she looked ahead. She didn't press, and for that, you were grateful.

The second half didn't get any easier. Barcelona came out stronger, pressing higher and creating more chances. You found yourself locked in a constant battle with Alexia in midfield, each of you pushing the other to your limits. It was both exhilarating and exhausting. Alexia had always been one of the most intelligent players you'd ever faced, and going up against her reminded you of why she was considered one of the best in the world.

But it wasn't just her skill that got to you. It was the way she played with that same passion and fire you'd fallen in love with. The way her voice carried across the pitch as she encouraged her teammates. The way her eyes lit up when Barça came close to scoring.

It was all too much.

By the time the final whistle blew, the score was still tied. A hard-fought draw. Both teams had left everything on the pitch, and as you made your way through the post-match handshakes, you felt the exhaustion settling in.

And then you reached Alexia.

She extended her hand to you, her grip firm yet gentle. "Good game," she said, her English accented but clear.

"Yeah, you too," you replied, your voice barely above a whisper.

For a moment, neither of you moved. Her hand lingered in yours, her eyes searching yours as if she wanted to say something more. But then someone called her name, and the moment passed.

The locker room was a blur of noise and activity as the team celebrated the hard-earned result. Leah was in the center of it all, her laughter and energy infectious as she joked with the others.

You tried to join in, tried to match their enthusiasm, but your heart wasn't in it. Eventually, you slipped away, retreating to a quieter corner of the room.

Leah found you a few minutes later, her expression softening as she sat down beside you. "Hey," she said gently. "What's going on?"

"Nothing," you lied, forcing a smile. "Just tired."

She didn't look convinced, but she didn't push. Instead, she wrapped an arm around your shoulders and pulled you close. "Well, you were brilliant out there," she said. "Just so you know."

You leaned into her touch, letting her warmth and words wash over you. For the first time since the match ended, you felt a small sense of peace.

But as much as you wanted to believe Leah's words, as much as you wanted to focus on this moment, your mind kept drifting back to Alexia. To the way she'd looked at you, the way her smile had stirred something deep inside you. It made you feel so incredibly guilty because Leah didn’t deserve this. She didn’t deserve to feel second best.

For the first time in months, you found yourself wondering if you'd ever truly be free of her.

You sat at your kitchen table, staring blankly at the untouched cup of tea in front of you that you'd made at least an hour ago. The London skyline stretched out beyond the window, but it did little to calm the storm inside your head. It had been two weeks since the match against Barcelona, and yet, Alexia hadn't left your thoughts.

You had tried—really tried—to push her from your mind. You'd thrown yourself into training, focused harder than ever during matches, and spent as much time as possible with Leah. But no matter what you did, Alexia was still there. The memory of her smile in the tunnel, the way her eyes had lingered on yours for just a little too long, haunted you.

Had you made the right decision leaving Barcelona? Leaving her? Getting into a relationship with Leah before you’d truly had chance to heal? All because you didn’t want to be alone? You cared about Leah. Truly, you did. She made you feel good, and she was funny, and sweet, and so so kind. But did you really love her? Or did you just think you did, because you so badly wanted that to be the case? Or was she just a distraction? Something to hide behind so you didn’t have to face the truth?

The questions gnawed at you, refusing to let go. When you'd made the decision to transfer to Arsenal, it had felt like the only option. Your relationship with Alexia had become a shadow of what it once was—distant, strained, and suffocating. You had convinced yourself that leaving was the best thing for both of you. And it had been, at first. But now, you weren't so sure.

Had you given up too easily? Or were you just overthinking everything because seeing her face again after so long apart had all but thrown you off balance?

Training that morning was grueling, but not because of the drills or the pace. Your mind was elsewhere, and it showed. You missed passes, lost focus, and trailed behind during sprints. Jonas called you out on it more than once, his sharp tone cutting through the fog in your mind.

"Focus!" he barked after you fumbled yet another touch. "If your head's not here, you're no good to anyone!"

You nodded mutely, biting the inside of your cheek to keep from snapping back. He was right, of course. But knowing that didn't make it any easier to shake off the heaviness in your chest. It quite literally felt like you suffocating.

Leah caught up with you as you trudged off the pitch at the end of the session. "Hey," she said, her voice soft and laced with concern. "Rough day?"

You forced a small smile. "Just tired," you replied, the lie rolling off your tongue with an ease it shouldn't.

Leah studied you for a moment, her blue eyes searching yours. She didn't press, though. Not like she probably should have. Instead, she slipped her hand into yours, giving it a reassuring squeeze. "Let's grab dinner tonight," she suggested. "Just the two of us. We haven't done that in a while."

You nodded, guilt twisting in your gut. "Yeah, that sounds good."

Dinner with Leah should have been easy. It always was. She was charming and funny, her quick wit never failing to make you laugh. But tonight, even her best efforts couldn't break through the wall you'd built around yourself. You picked at your food, barely contributing to the conversation. Leah noticed, of course, but she didn't say anything. Instead, she reached across the table and took your hand, her thumb brushing softly over your knuckles.

"You've been really quiet lately," she said gently. "Is everything okay?"

You hesitated, searching for the right words. You wanted to tell her everything, to finally unload the weight that had been pressing down on you for weeks. But how could you? How could you admit that you were thinking about your ex more than you should? That you were questioning everything about your life and your choices?

"I'm fine," you said finally, forcing another smile. "Just a lot on my mind."

Leah's gaze lingered on you, her expression soft but full of concern. "You know you can talk to me about anything, right?"

"Of course," you said quickly. "I know."

She smiled, but it didn't reach her eyes.

That night, as you lay in bed beside Leah, your mind wandered again. You couldn't stop thinking about Alexia—about the life you'd left behind in Barcelona.

You'd loved her. God, you'd loved her so much it hurt. And for a long time, you'd thought she was it. Your forever. The one person who truly understood you in a way no one else ever could.

So why hadn't you tried harder to save it?

The question burned in your mind, keeping you awake long after Leah had drifted off beside you. Had you been scared? Had you been so afraid of watching your relationship crumble that you'd run before it could?

Or had it simply been too far gone to save?

The next few days passed in a blur. You went through the motions—training, matches, spending time with Leah—but it all felt hollow. You couldn't shake the feeling that something was missing, that you were somehow stuck between two worlds and you couldn't escape either.

It wasn't fair to Leah. She deserved someone who was fully present, someone who could give her the love and attention she deserved. But no matter how hard you tried, you couldn't give her that. Not when your heart and mind were still tangled up in Alexia.

You hated yourself for it.

Leah was perfect in so many ways. She was kind and caring, always putting others before herself. She made you laugh, even on your worst days, and she had a way of making you feel safe and valued. So why couldn't you just be happy with her? Why wasn't she enough?

One evening, after another restless night, you found yourself scrolling through Alexia's Instagram again. You hated that you couldn't seem to stop. Every photo felt like a punch to the gut—a reminder of the life you'd left behind. There she was, smiling with her teammates, celebrating yet another win. There she was with her family, the people who had welcomed you so warmly during your time in Barcelona. And there she was, looking as beautiful as ever, her smile brighter than the sun.

She looked happy.

The realization hit you like a train. Alexia was happy. She was moving on, living her life without you. And as much as it hurt, you knew you couldn't begrudge her that.

But what about you?

Were you happy?

The answer was painfully clear.

It took you four days to summon the courage to talk to Leah. The thought of hurting her, of shattering the trust and connection you'd built over the past few months, made you sick to your stomach. But you knew it was the right thing to do. It wasn't fair to lead her on. To pretend like you were happy when in actual fact it felt like you were drowning. As you sat together on the couch together, you finally found the words.

"Leah," you began, your voice audibly trembling. You hated that you already sounded so pathetic.

She turned to look at you, her brows furrowing in concern. "What's wrong?"

"I need to talk to you about something."

Her expression shifted, the worry in her eyes deepening. "Okay," she said softly. "I'm listening."

You hesitated, searching for the right words. "I care about you," you said finally. "I really do. And I've loved being with you these past couple of months. But..."

Her face fell, and your heart shattered at the sight. Here you were, yet again breaking someone's heart.

"But I don't think I'm in the right place to be in a relationship right now," you continued, your voice barely above a whisper. "I thought I was ready, but I'm not. And it's not fair to you."

Leah was silent for a long moment, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. "Is this about Alexia?" she asked finally, her voice steady but quiet. It was as though she knew she couldn't change your mind. You longed to reach out and take her hand. Hug her. Anything. But it felt selfish to do so. And so you just sit, trembling hands clasped together on your lap.

You looked down at your hands, unable to meet her gaze. "Partly," you admitted. "But it's not just about her. It's about me. I need to figure out who I am and what I want, and I can't do that while I'm still carrying so much baggage from my past."

Leah nodded slowly, her lips pressing into a thin line. "I understand," she said, her voice cracking slightly. "I don't like it, but I understand."

You reached for her hand then, your heart aching as she allowed you to hold it. "You mean so much to me," you said, your voice breaking. "And I'm so sorry."

She gave you a small, sad smile. "It's okay," she said. "I'll be okay."

You wanted to believe her, but the pain in her eyes told you otherwise.

That night, after Leah had left, you sat alone in your apartment, the weight of your decision crashing down on you. It was the right thing to do—for both of you—but that didn't make it any easier.

The days after ending things with Leah felt like you were moving through molasses. Time passed, but you hardly noticed. Training sessions were a blur of drills and matches that you barely registered. You showed up, you worked, and you left, barely engaging with anyone. Your teammates were kind, supportive, but you couldn't shake the distance you kept from them—or from yourself.

Leah was polite, as professional as ever, but the warmth that used to mark your conversations had been replaced with a cool hesitance. You couldn't blame her. You had ended things, after all. She deserved space to process. But the tentative exchanges between you only deepened your sense of isolation.

The others noticed, of course. How could they not? Beth's concerned glances, Viv's quiet observations, and Katie's half-hearted jokes in an attempt to cheer you up didn't go unnoticed. But you didn't know how to let them in. How could you explain that it wasn't just about Leah? That it wasn't just about Alexia?

It was everything.

You felt like a ghost of yourself. Your apartment felt like a prison, cold and empty, and the silence within its walls was almost deafening. Tasks that once seemed simple—cooking, cleaning, even eating—felt monumental. Most nights, you picked at something small and crawled into bed, waiting for sleep to take away the ache of loneliness.

After a particularly grueling training session, you sat alone at your cubby, pulling off your boots. Your body was exhausted, but your mind refused to quiet down. The other players chatted and laughed around you, their voices blending into white noise.

You were so lost in thought that you didn't notice someone approaching until a throat cleared softly above you. Startled, you looked up to see Leah standing there, her arms crossed and expression guarded.

"Hey," she said, her voice low and hesitant.

"Hey," you replied, equally cautious.

There was a long pause, the kind of silence that felt heavy and awkward. Leah shifted on her feet, looking like she wanted to bolt but was forcing herself to stay.

"Uh... Beth and Viv are having dinner at theirs tonight," she said, finally breaking the silence. "They wanted me to ask if you'd like to come."

Your first instinct was to say no. The idea of being in a social setting, of pretending to be okay when you felt anything but, was overwhelming. You opened your mouth to decline, but Leah spoke again before you could.

"Beth insists," she added, a hint of a smile tugging at her lips.

You glanced across the locker room to where Beth was sitting at her cubby. She was already looking your way, her smile warm and encouraging. It was clear that Leah had been sent as a messenger, and you felt a pang of guilt at the realization. They were trying to include you, to pull you out of whatever shell you'd retreated into.

After a long moment, you nodded. "Okay," you said quietly.

Leah gave a small, almost relieved smile. "Good," she said. "We'll head over after showers."

Beth and Viv's house was cozy and welcoming, filled with the smells of cooking and the sounds of music playing softly in the background. It was the kind of warmth you hadn't felt in a long time, and it took you by surprise.

"Hey, there she is!" Beth greeted you with a grin as you stepped inside. She pulled you into a quick hug, her energy so infectious you couldn't help but hug her back. "Glad you could make it."

Viv appeared behind her, offering a quieter but no less genuine smile. "Dinner's almost ready. Make yourself comfortable."

You followed Leah into the living room, where a few of the other girls were already lounging on the couch, chatting and laughing. It was hard not to feel out of place, but Beth's relentless cheerfulness made it a little easier. She handed you a drink and dragged you into a conversation, refusing to let you sit quietly on the sidelines.

For the first time in weeks, you felt yourself relax.

Dinner was lively and filled with conversation about anything and everything, much of it thanks to Beth's sharp wit and Viv's occasional dry humor. The food was delicious, and you found yourself eating more than you had in days.

At one point, Leah caught your eye from across the table. She smiled—small and tentative, but genuine—and you felt a flicker of something you hadn't felt in a while: hope.

The evening passed more quickly than you expected. By the time you left, your mood had lifted ever so slightly. It wasn't a cure-all for everything you were feeling, but it was a start, at least. And for that you were grateful.

The next day, Beth cornered you in the locker room before training.

"So," she began, leaning casually against the bench. "You survived dinner."

You laughed softly. "I did. Thanks for inviting me."

Beth grinned. "Anytime. But seriously, don't be a stranger. We're a team, you know? We're here for you."

Her words hit you harder than you expected. You nodded, swallowing the lump that had formed in your throat.

"Thanks, Beth," you said quietly.

She nods, reaching out to squeeze your arm before heading to her cubby to change for training.

Two months had passed before could really process it, and while the adjustment to being alone again was difficult, you were doing your best to move forward. Slowly but surely, life in London away from the home you'd once known began to feel less overwhelming.

You made a conscious effort to bond with the team. Game nights became a weekly tradition you found yourself looking forward to, even if you weren't the most competitive player off the pitch. Coffee outings after practice gave you a chance to connect with your teammates on a more personal level, and you were surprised at how much you enjoyed their company.

Beth, in particular, became your closest friend. She had a way of talking that was infectious, filling the silences you used to find suffocating. Being around her was easy—she didn't let you slip too far into your own head, and she never made you feel like a burden. Instead, she seemed to know exactly when to step in and distract you. You started spending more time with her than anyone else, gravitating toward her warmth and energy. And Beth, as perceptive as she was, never pushed you away. It was like she understood that you needed her company as much as she needed yours.

Things with Leah had also improved. The initial awkwardness and hurt that hung over you both after the breakup were beginning to fade. Slowly but surely, a tentative friendship began to form. It wasn't perfect—not yet. You still hadn't spent time alone with her, unsure if you trusted yourself not to mess things up again. But there was hope, a mutual understanding that you could reach a place of real friendship eventually.

Sometimes, late at night, you wondered if things would've worked out with Leah if it hadn't been for that match against Barça. Seeing Alexia again had reopened wounds you thought were healed, stirring feelings you weren't prepared or had any intention of dealing with.

But London was your home now, and you were finally beginning to accept it. Your life was here, not in Barcelona.

One evening, as you sat on the couch scrolling through your phone, a notification dropped down from the top of your screen.

Alexia: Hey

Three letters, no context.

You stared at the message for what felt like an eternity. Your stomach twisting and your mind racing with questions. Why now? Why after months of silence?

You didn't reply, but the message was impossible to ignore. It lingered in the back of your mind, tugging at your thoughts throughout the next few days. You found yourself spiraling again, replaying old memories and spinning yourself into an endless cycle of what ifs.

Beth noticed first.

It was during a coffee outing after training. You'd been quiet, your mind elsewhere, and whilst Beth had initially been patient, she finally called you out.

"Alright," she prefaces, setting her cup down with a soft thud. You look up from your own cup at the sound, your eyebrows furrowed in confusion. "What's going on? You've been weird the past few days."

"I'm fine," you said automatically, but Beth raised an eyebrow.

"Don't give me that." She rolled her eyes. "Something's up. Tell me."

You hesitated, torn between wanting to open up and not wanting to drag her into your mess. But Beth had a way of pulling the truth out of you, and you knew it was only a matter of time until you break.

"It's nothing," you said finally, trying, yet failing, to sound convincing. "Just... in my own head a bit."

You could tell by the look on Beth's face that she didn't buy it. You knew that would happen, really, but deep down you wished she wasn't so damn perceptive. "You're always in your own head." She gave you a nudge with her foot under the table. "But this feels different. Spill."

You sighed, running a hand through your hair. "It's..." you trail off, and Beth nodded, silently encouraging you to continue "it's Alexia." You admit.

Beth's expression shifted, her teasing demeanor replaced by genuine concern. "What about her?"

"She texted me," you admitted quietly. "Just a simple 'hey.' But it's messing with me and I don't know why."

Beth leaned forward in her seat slightly. "Have you replied?"

"No," you shake your head. "I don't even know what to say. Or if I should say anything at all."

Beth nodded, giving you a moment to gather your thoughts.

"What do you want to say?" she asked finally.

You shrugged helplessly. "I don't know. Part of me wants to ask her why she reached out. Part of me thinks I should ignore it and move on. And part of me..."

Beth tilted her head, waiting.

"Part of me misses her," you admitted, the words feeling heavy on your tongue.

Beth didn't judge or offer unsolicited advice. Instead, she reached across the table and gave your hand a reassuring squeeze.

"Give it a few days. Think on it, yeah? Don’t reply because you feel like you have to."

You run your hands over your face before letting out a deep sigh, eyes drawn to the loose granules of sugar that had spilled onto the table your drinks rested on. "I've left her on read for over forty eight hours," you murmured. "What if-"

"No," Beth shook her head, and you look up at her, surprised at the firmness of her voice. "She'll understand why you haven't answered straight away. It's been, what? Nearly a year since you left her? Left Barcelona?"

You nod, the tightness in your chest returning.

"She can't expect you to not have mixed feelings about this whole thing. Nearly a year apart. Months since you'd last talked. She's gotta give you a bit of leeway. I'm sure she'd feel the same if the situation was reversed and it was you who texted her."

You nod again, knowing was right.

"Give it time," she reached over and squeezed your hand again. You return the gesture. "If they're meant to, things will work out."

You sighed lightly as you picked up your coffee. The cup was cold now, and so was the liquid inside, but that doesn't stop you from taking a sip anyway despite the immediate complaint from your tastebuds.

Beth simply grinned. "That was gross, wasn't it?" She gestured to your cup, and you finally allow yourself to laugh as you set the cup down.

"Oh yeah. Disgusting." You agreed, eternally grateful she'd managed to change the subject without really trying.

Leah was the next to notice.

It was during training, and you were distracted again, your passes sloppy and your focus clearly elsewhere. Leah pulled you aside during a water break, her expression unreadable.

"Hey," she said softly, giving you a gentle nudge with her elbow.. "You okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine," you lied as you dropped your water back into the cooler, but Leah simply raised an eyebrow, clearly not believing you.

"You're not," she said matter-of-factly. "What's going on?"

The last thing you wanted was to talk about Alexia with Leah. It felt wrong, considering everything that had happened between you two. But Leah's concern was genuine, and you couldn't bring yourself to brush her off completely after trying so hard these past few months to make things right with her.

"It's complicated," you said finally.

Leah crossed her arms, waiting patiently.

"Leah, I'm not sure if-" you try, but she cut you off.

"Listen, we're friends yeah?"

You nodded immediately. "Yeah, of course, but-"

"And friends tell each other stuff," she cut you off again. "Even the difficult things." She adds.

"I know," you look down at your boots. They were still caked in mud after yesterday's practice in the rain, the chore of cleaning them completely forgotten in your haste to make dinner. "I know that." You look up again. "Really, I do. But..." you cut yourself off this time.

"But...?"

"I don't want to hurt you, Leah," you admit. “We've worked hard to make this friendship work after everything and the last thing I want to do is ruin that by..."

"By what?" Her voice was quieter now. Gentle.

"By talking about my ex." You finally bring yourself to say.

"Ahh," Leah said. "So this is about Alexia."

You nodded, guilt churning your stomach. Suddenly, you feel her hand take your own. You looked up, and you were surprised to see the smile on her face.

"We were friends before we were anything else, y'know. In fact, I'm pretty sure we were friends for longer than we were together, especially if you count after the fact. Which I do, by the way." She squeezed your hand.

Your lips quirked up just slightly.

"And as your friend," she punctuated that with another squeeze. "It's within my rights to demand you tell me whats wrong."

"Demand?" The quiet laughter that escaped your lips was a surprise to you both.

"Damn right," she grinned, finally dropping your hand and crossing her arms against her chest. "So tell me, what's going on."

You hesitated for a second, raising an eyebrow to silently ask if she was sure. Leah just sighs exasperatedly as she gives you another nudge, and you take that as your cue.

"She texted me out of the blue, and it's... it's thrown me off."

Leah didn't flinch or show any sign of discomfort. Instead, she smiled just slightly, tilting her head to the side.

"What did she say?"

"Just 'hey,'" you said, shaking your head. "But apparently three letters are enough to mess with my head."

Leah's hummed. "Do you want to talk to her?"

"I don't know," you said honestly. "I don't even know what she wants. Or why she's reaching out now, after so long.”

Leah was quiet for a moment. "Sometimes, the only way to stop overthinking is to face it head-on."

Despite the seriousness of her words, you couldn't help but joke a little in spite of yourself. "Since when were you so wise?" You teased.

Leah's mouth parted in shock as she placed a hand to her chest in mock hurt. "'scuse you, I've always been wise thank you very much."

"You have?" You tilted your head to the side. "I must have amnesia or something because I definitely don't remember it being that way."

Leah scoffed. "Amnesia she says. That's it. You've asked for it now." She rolled up her none existent sleeves, and you take a few steps backwards in preparation to run. Seconds later, she lunged at you, and you couldn’t help the squeak that escaped your lips as you trip over your own feet in your haste to escape.

That night, you sat on your couch, staring at Alexia's message again. Your finger hovered over the keyboard, your mind a giant mess of conflicting emotions. Should you text her? It felt wrong not to do so considering she'd been left on read for nearly four days. But had it been too long? Had too much time passed? Was your chance gone?

Before you could stop yourself, you typed out a reply.

You: Hey. How are you?

It was simple, cautious. You didn't expect a response right away, but your phone buzzed almost immediately.

Alexia: I'm okay. I just... I wanted to check on you.

Your heart clenched. You typed back before you could overthink it.

You: I'm fine. London's good.

Her next reply was slower, as though she was choosing her words carefully.

Alexia: I miss you.

You stared at the screen, the weight of her words hitting you like a ton of bricks.

Did you miss her too? Of course, you did. You always had. But was that enough to reopen this chapter of your life after it had crumbled so badly the first time?

For now, you didn't reply.

The following days were a blur of confusion and who knew what else. You opened up to Leah again, despite your initial hesitation to do so the last time. Thankfully, she didn't seem to mind, especially when you treat her to lunch as a way of saying both thank you and I'm sorry at the same time. As she ate, she listened patiently as you spilled everything—your lingering feelings for Alexia, your doubts about replying to her, and the guilt you carried for how everything had ended in the first place.

"Do you still love her?" Leah asked gently, pushing away her plate and fiddling with the napkin.

The question caught you off guard. Did you?

"I don't know," you said honestly. "I think I do. But I don't know if it's the kind of love that's enough to fix everything."

Leah nodded. "Maybe it's not about fixing anything. Maybe it's about finding closure, for both of you."

Her words gave you a lot to think about.

As the days passed, you found yourself slowly coming to terms with the fact that you couldn't avoid Alexia forever. Whether it was closure or something more, you needed to figure out what this meant, for both of you.

And so, one evening, you picked up your phone and sent her a message.

You: Can we talk?

Her reply came almost instantly.

Alexia: Yes. Anytime.

With a deep breath, you tapped the call button and brought the phone to your ear. The line rang, each sound increasing your anxiety until it clicked.

"Hola," her voice came through softly, hesitant.

"Hi," you replied, your voice barely above a whisper.

There was a pause, and you could hear her breathing on the other end. The sound of it was both familiar and strange, tugging at emotions you'd tried for hard to bury.

"How are you?" she asked, breaking the silence. Her English, still thick with her accent, wrapped around the words in a way that made your chest tighten.

"I'm okay," you said, though you weren't sure it was entirely true. "How are you?"

"Good," she replied, though her tone didn't sound convincing. "Better... now."

You didn't know how to respond to that, so you stayed quiet, letting the awkward silence stretch between you both. Hearing her voice again after so long was overwhelming. You'd spent months replaying the sound of it in your head, but the real thing was different. Rawer. More real.

Finally, you gathered the courage to break the tension. "Why did you text me?"

Alexia hesitated, and you could almost picture her biting her lip, trying to decide how honest she should be. When she finally spoke, her voice was quiet, vulnerable.

"I miss you," she said, the words simple yet heavy.

Your breath hitched, and for a moment, you couldn't bring yourself to respond. You swallow heavily, before finally…

"I miss you too," you admitted.

The line went quiet again, but this time the silence felt heavier, weighted with all the unspoken things left unsaid between you.

"I want to be in your life," she said finally, her voice quiet, almost pleading. "As a friend, if that's all you can give me. But... more, if..." she didn’t finish her sentence, but you were fully aware of what she’d left unsaid and your heart felt like it was in your throat. You'd known Alexia to be bold, fearless on the pitch, but this wasn't the same kind of bravery. This was her laying herself bare, vulnerable in a way that made your chest ache.

"I don't know what to say," you said honestly. "Alexia, I've missed you every single day since I left. But we ended things for a reason. We weren't... good for each other anymore. Do you really think we can be now?"

There was a soft sigh on the other end of the line, followed by a long pause before she replied.

"I don't know," she said quietly. "But I know I want to try. Even if it's just as your friend. I need you in my life, somehow.” Her words hit you hard, and you rubbed at your temples, trying to sort through the mess of emotions swirling in your head.

"Alexia, I..." You trailed off as your hand dropped to your lap, unsure how to finish the sentence. "I just, this is a lot. I don't know if I've even healed properly. From us, from leaving."

"I understand," she said quickly, and you could hear both the sincerity and sadness in her voice. "I do not want to push you. I just... I needed to tell you how I feel."

You sighed deeply as you let her words sink in. She wasn't asking for everything, not yet. Just a chance, and you could give her that, right?

"Maybe... friends," you said finally, the word feeling foreign in the context of your relationship with her. "At least for now. Until we can figure this out. I think we need to talk in person, really talk, before we make any decisions."

"Okay," she said softly, and you could hear the relief in her voice. "Friends, for now."

You nodded, even though she couldn't see it. "Yeah. For now."

Another silence settled between you, but this one felt less awkward, less strained. It was as if the first few barriers had been broken, leaving room for something new—something uncertain but not entirely unwelcome.

"I'll let you go," you said after a while, though you weren't sure if you really wanted to end the call.

"Okay," she said, her voice softer now. "Thank you for calling."

"Thank you for texting," you replied.

The call ended, leaving you staring at your phone. You felt raw, exposed, and unsure of what came next. But there was also a flicker of hope—small, fragile, but there.

Life settled into an odd rhythm, with Alexia somehow slotting herself back into your world as though she'd never left. You didn't quite know how it happened—one moment she was just a text on your screen, and the next, she was a consistent part of your life again. It felt strange at first, a little unnatural, but over time, you found a comfortable balance.

Most days, you focused on your life in London. Training and games filled your schedule, but it was the little things that kept you grounded. You spent a lot of time with Beth and Leah. They were easy company, and Beth especially had a way of making you feel lighter.

"You're coming to mine tonight, yeah?" Beth asked one day after training, slinging an arm around your shoulder. "I got Viv to agree to a game of charades. You have to see her impression of a giraffe—it's iconic."

You laughed, shaking your head. "Alright, I'll come. But only if you promise not to let Leah cheat this time."

Beth grinned. "No promises."

Moments like these were the highlights of your week. They reminded you that you had people here, that you weren't as alone as you sometimes felt.

But then there was Alexia.

She occupied a quiet space in your life, a shadow of the past that lingered in the present. You texted almost every day, though the conversations weren't always long or meaningful.

Alexia: Hola. How was training?

You: Good. We had a double session today. You?

Alexia: Hard. Coach had us doing sprints for hour.

Simple exchanges like this became your new normal. They felt safe, like you were keeping her close without letting her in too far.

And then there were the phone calls.

They started innocently enough. Once a week, usually in the evening, one of you would call the other. The conversations were casual—how your days had gone, updates on mutual friends. You looked forward to them. Hearing her voice, even through the awkward pauses and occasional stilted phrases, felt comforting.

One night, after a particularly tough training session, you found yourself dialing her number without even thinking.

"Hola," she answered, her voice warm and familiar.

"Hey," you said, curling up on your sofa, tossing a blanket over your legs and letting out a soft sigh. "How's your day been?"

"Busy," she replied. "But good. We had media stuff this morning, and then training. Now I am cooking."

"What're you making?"

"Paella," she said, and you could hear the pride in her voice. "Do you remember it?"

You smiled. "How could I forget? You always made the best paella."

She laughed softly. "Not always. Remember the time I burned it?"

You did, and the memory made you laugh. "Yeah, and then you tried to convince me it was supposed to taste like that."

The conversation continued, easy and light. But as you were saying goodbye, Alexia slipped.

"Goodnight," she said softly. "I love you."

The words hit you like a punch to the gut. Without thinking, you murmured, "I love you too," before ending the call.

The silence that followed was suffocating. You stared at your phone screen, now blank, replaying the moment over and over again.

You did love her. That much you knew. But what did that even mean now?

The next time it happened, you didn't say it back.

"I love you," she said quietly, her voice hesitant, almost as if she hadn't meant to say it at all.

You froze, unsure of how to respond. After a beat of silence, Alexia cleared her throat awkwardly. "Lo siento. I'm sorry."

"It's okay," you managed, but your voice sounded distant even to yourself.

She hung up shortly after, and you stared at your phone, guilt clawing at your chest. You texted her later, assuring her it was really was fine, and she replied with a simple Gracias.

But it wasn't fine. Not really.

You didn't know what to do with the feelings that resurfaced every time she said those three words. Part of you wanted to say them back, to dive headfirst into whatever this was and figure it out along the way. But another part of you was terrified—of getting hurt again, of hurting her, of making the same mistakes you'd made before.

So you kept things as they were: tentative, friendly, and painfully unresolved.

In London, life moved on. You found yourself leaning on Beth more and more. She had a way of distracting you from your thoughts, her constant chatter filling the empty spaces in your head.

"You're awfully quiet today," she said one afternoon as you walked to a café after training. "What's going on up there?"

"Nothing," you lied, forcing a smile.

Beth raised an eyebrow. "Liar. Is this about her again?"

You sighed, not bothering to deny it. Beth knew enough about your situation with Alexia to read between the lines.

"She texted me," you admitted.

"And?"

"And... we've been talking. Calling, too."

Beth stopped walking, turning to face you. "Okay, but what do you want from this? Do you want her back? Or do you just miss the idea of her?"

Her bluntness caught you off guard, but it was a question you'd been avoiding for weeks.

"I don't know," you said honestly. "I don't even know if I'm ready to figure that out."

Beth softened, placing a hand on your shoulder and squeezing softly. "Take your time, yeah? No one's rushing you. But don't string her along if you're not sure."

You nodded, appreciating her honesty even if it stung a little.

That night, Alexia called.

"Hola," she said, her voice bright. "How are you?"

"Good," you replied, settling onto your bed. "How's Barcelona?"

"Busy," she said, laughing lightly. "But good. I saw Mapi today. She asks about you."

"Tell her I said hi."

"I will."

The conversation flowed easily, as it often did now. You talked about training, upcoming matches, little things that didn't really matter but still felt important. As the call went on, you found yourself relaxing, the tension of the day melting away. Alexia had always had that effect on you—making the world feel a little less overwhelming, even if just for a moment.

When it was time to hang up, she hesitated.

"Goodnight," she said softly.

"Goodnight," you replied, waiting for the slip that you knew might come.

But this time, it didn't, and you didn't know how you felt about it.

"Sleep well," she said instead, her voice warm.

"You too," you said, hesitating for just a second before hanging up.

When you saw Alexia standing in the arrivals hall at Heathrow, everything inside you stilled. She looked the same as she always had. Calm, composed, effortlessly beautiful. But there was something else now, a nervousness in the way her eyes darted through the crowd, the way her hands fidgeted with the strap of her carry-on bag. When she saw you, a small smile lifted the corners of her mouth.

"Hola" she said softly, her voice almost lost in the noise of the airport.

"Hey," you replied, stepping closer.

She hesitated, her weight shifting from one foot to the other. You could tell she wasn't sure whether to hug you or not, and you made the decision for her, pulling her into a quick, firm embrace. She melted into it for just a moment before you stepped back, both of you retreating into the safety of polite distance.

"Long flight?" you asked, grabbing the handle of her suitcase and motioning for her to follow you toward the parking lot.

"Not so bad," she said, falling into step beside you. "I sleep through most of it."

The drive back to your flat was mostly quiet. The conversation was polite, surface-level, but it felt wrong, like you were strangers who barely knew each other instead of two people who had once shared everything.

"Do you have everything you need for your trip?" you asked at one point, eyes fixed on the road ahead.

Alexia nodded. "Sí, I do not think I will need much. It's mostly meetings. And maybe a bit of sightseeing, if there is time."

You hummed in acknowledgment, but you didn't press her further. You knew her tells too well to believe that this trip was purely business.

When you arrived at your flat, you offered her the guest room to settle into, and she disappeared inside with her suitcase. You busied yourself in the kitchen, reheating the pasta you'd left in the microwave earlier, trying to keep your hands steady as the weight of what lay ahead bore down on you.

When Alexia reappeared, she looked hesitant, like she wasn't sure where to sit or what to do.

"Dinner's ready," you said, nodding toward the small table.

"Gracias," she murmured, sitting down across from you.

The meal was simple, eaten mostly in silence except for the occasional comment about how good it was or how tired she felt from traveling.

After dinner, you both moved to the couch. Alexia sat at the far end, her hands nervously fidgeting in her lap. Her eyes darted around the room, as though searching for anything to ease the tension between you. The hesitation in her every movement reminded you of the last time you'd seen her, months ago in the tunnel before the Arsenal vs. Barça match. Except now, the space between you wasn't physical. It was everything unsaid, everything left unresolved.

You shifted slightly, clearing your throat. "We should probably... talk. About everything."

Alexia looked at you then, her lips parting before pressing together again. She nodded slowly. "Sí... I think so, too."

You tried to figure out where to start, running a hand through your hair. "Why did you come here, Ale?"

Her gaze dropped to her hands. "I told you... not only for you. But... you know."

Your lips quirked up at her obvious tell. "You're a terrible liar."

That made her look up, a faint flush rising to her cheeks. "Okay... maybe I come for you. But... I want to see how you are. In person."

"And?" you prompted softly, leaning forward slightly.

"And... I miss you," she admitted, her accent making the words heavier. "I say on the phone, but I miss you more... more than I can say."

Your heart clenched, a familiar ache creeping into your chest. "I miss you too, Alexia. But... we ended things for a reason. Do you remember why?"

Her brows furrowed. "Because... because we are not... how do you say? Good?"

You nodded. "We weren't in a good place. We were barely even talking by the end. Do you think that's changed? Just because we've had some time apart?"

Alexia was quiet for a moment, her hands tightening into fists. "I think... we have changed. I have changed. I think about you every day. And now... I talk with you again, and it feels good. Not like before."

Her words tugged at something inside you. "It feels good because we're not dealing with the hard stuff anymore, Ale. We've only talked about surface-level things. Football, our days, things like that. We haven't addressed the problems we had."

"But we can talk now," she insisted, scooting closer to you on the couch. "I want to talk. I want to... try again."

You sighed, leaning back. "Ale, it's not that simple. Trying again isn't just about wanting it to work. We have to figure out if we even can make it work."

She frowned, her fingers twitching as if she wanted to reach for you but held herself back. "You... you think we cannot?"

"I don't know," you admitted, feeling the weight of her gaze on you. "I really don't. I mean, I still love you—"

"You do?" she interrupted, her voice a mixture of surprise and hope.

You nodded, swallowing hard. "Of course I do. But love wasn't enough before, was it? We still ended up falling apart."

Alexia leaned forward, her elbows resting on her knees as she looked down. "Because... because I was not good. Not... not there for you."

"It wasn't just you, Alexia," you said quickly. "I wasn't good either. I shut down when things got hard. I didn't fight for us like I should have."

She shook her head. "No, no... I should have fought more. For you. For us. I... I was scared. Scared I lose you, so I stay quiet. But that... that was wrong."

Her voice cracked on the last word, and you felt your heart break a little more. "We were both scared," you admitted. "But fear doesn't fix anything."

Alexia looked up then, her eyes glassy but determined. "So... we try again? No fear this time."

You hesitated, the logical part of your brain clashing with the part of you that wanted so desperately to pull her into your arms. "What if we fail again?" you whispered.

"Then we fail," she said simply. "But at least... at least we know we try. No... regrets."

Her words hung in the air, and you realized just how much you wanted to believe her. To believe that you could try again and make it work this time.

After a long pause, you reached out, your fingers brushing hers. "Okay," you said softly. "We can try. But we have to promise to talk this time. About everything. No shutting down."

Alexia's hand turned to clasp yours tightly. "I promise. No... no more hiding. We talk, always.”

You nodded, a small smile tugging at your lips. "And no more avoiding each other when things get tough."

"Sí. No more," she agreed, a hint of a smile breaking through her serious expression.

For the first time in months, the weight on your chest felt a little lighter. You squeezed her hand, and without thinking, you leaned forward, wrapping your arms around her. Alexia froze for a second before she melted into you, her arms tightening around your waist.

The week Alexia stayed with you passed in a haze of soft moments and cautious steps forward. Neither of you were trying to rush anything, and maybe that was what made it feel so different this time. There was no pressure to immediately fix everything or pretend like the last few months hadn't happened. You were starting fresh, and it felt... right.

Alexia fit into your small London flat in a way that surprised you. She had her little routines: making coffee in the morning with a focus so intense you'd think she was preparing for a match, leaving her jacket casually draped over the back of the chair despite your protests, and humming softly under her breath as she scrolled through her phone. It was so familiar, yet so new.

You spent most of the week together, rediscovering the rhythm of just being in each other's presence. Sometimes you went out, grabbing coffee or walking through the bustling streets of London. Other times, you stayed in, talking about anything and everything—or just sitting together in a comfortable silence.

Alexia did have meetings, and while she insisted they were important, you quickly pieced together that most of them could have been handled remotely. When she wasn't with you, she was calling someone from Barça or scrolling through emails. But her focus always seemed to shift back to you, and it became clear she hadn't come to London because of work. She had come for you.

On her last full day in London, you decided to introduce her to Beth. It wasn't a decision you'd made lightly, but Beth had been your closest confidante during your time at Arsenal, and part of you wanted her to see this side of your life. Alexia had been such a big part of it for so long, and though it felt strange to merge the two worlds, you wanted to try.

Beth greeted you both with her usual warmth, pulling you into a hug before giving Alexia a curious, appraising glance. "So, you're the infamous Alexia," she said, her tone teasing but kind.

Alexia smiled shyly. "I... guess so. Nice to meet you, Beth."

Beth grinned. "Likewise. Heard a lot about you, you know."

Alexia glanced at you, a faint blush creeping up her neck. "Good things... I hope?"

Beth winked at you. "Mostly good."

The three of you settled into an easy rhythm, and you were relieved to see how naturally Alexia interacted with Beth. It wasn't forced or awkward; it was as if they'd known each other for ages. When Leah arrived unexpectedly at Beth's apartment, though, that quickly changed.

"Leah," you greeted softly, stepping forward slightly.

"Hi," she replied, her tone polite but guarded. Her gaze lingered on Alexia for a beat too long before she glanced back at you. "Didn't know you were bringing... company."

Alexia offered Leah a polite nod. "Hello. I am Alexia."

Leah hesitated for half a second before nodding back. "Leah. Nice to meet you."

The atmosphere was tense, and you felt the weight of it pressing against your chest. "I'll, uh, help Beth in the kitchen," you mumbled, slipping away to give Leah and Alexia a moment to adjust to each other's presence.

Beth cornered you the moment you were out of earshot. "Well, this is awkward, isn't it?"

"Beth," you hissed, narrowing your eyes at her.

"I'm just saying," she teased, her voice low. "You're brave, I'll give you that."

You sighed, pinching the bridge of your nose. "Can we just... not make this harder than it already is?"

Beth softened at your obvious distress. "Okay, okay. I'll play nice. But Leah—"

"I'll handle it," you interrupted quickly, not wanting to dwell on the topic.

When it was time to leave, you pulled Leah aside. You'd been hesitant about how to approach her all day, but you couldn't leave without saying something.

"Hey," you said softly, stopping her just as she was about to head back into the kitchen.

Leah turned to you, her expression unreadable. "Yeah?"

You didn't think too hard about it. Instead, you stepped forward and wrapped your arms around her. At first, she didn't respond, but then her arms came up to hug you back, albeit briefly.

"I'm sorry," you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper.

"For what?" she asked, pulling back to look at you.

"For everything," you admitted. "For hurting you. For how things ended. For... bringing Alexia here."

Leah's lips twitched into a faint smile. "It's okay. Really. I've moved on."

You nodded, though the guilt still lingered in your chest. "You're still one of my closest friends, Leah. I hope you know that."

"I do," she said, her voice soft but steady. "And I'm happy for you, by the way. If she makes you happy, then that's all that matters."

You hugged her one last time before returning to Alexia, who was waiting by the door. Her gaze flicked between you and Leah, her jaw tightening ever so slightly.

"Ready?" you asked, grabbing your coat.

Alexia nodded, but as you walked to the car, she finally broke her silence. "She is... important to you?"

You glanced at her, surprised by the question. "Leah? Yeah, she is. We're good friends."

Alexia's expression didn't change, but you caught the subtle shift in her posture. "You were... more than friends before, no?"

You sighed, unlocking the car. "Yeah, we were. For a while."

"And now?" she pressed, her voice carefully neutral.

"Now we're just friends," you said firmly, turning to face her. "That's all, Ale."

Alexia nodded, though you could tell it hadn't entirely eased her mind. "Okay."

That night, the weight of her impending departure settled over you both. After dinner, you found yourselves back on the couch, sitting closer than you had at the start of the week. Alexia's hand rested on your knee, her thumb tracing absent patterns through the fabric of your joggers.

"I don't want to leave," she admitted suddenly, her voice barely above a whisper.

You looked at her, a soft smile gracing your lips. "I don't want you to leave either."

She smiled sadly. "But we have to talk. About... how we do this.”

You nodded, shifting to face her more fully. "Yeah. Long distance isn't easy."

"No," she agreed. "But... I think we can do it. If we try."

You hesitated. "Ale, I'm not leaving Arsenal. Not anytime soon."

"I know," she said quickly. "And I... I cannot leave Barça. It is my home."

"I'd never ask you to," you assured her. "But that means we'd only see each other... what? A handful of times a year?"

Her brows furrowed as she thought. "Not so few. We can make time. I can come here, or you come to Barcelona... in breaks."

"And what about during the season?" you asked. "We'd both be so busy. Training, games, travel. How would we make it work then?"

Alexia bit her lip. "We talk. Every day, if we can. And when we cannot... we know we are still together. We trust each other."

It sounded simple, almost too simple. But the determination in her voice made you pause. "You really think that's enough?"

Her hand slid up to cup your cheek, her thumb brushing softly against your skin. "I think... if we want this, we find a way. You and me... we are worth it."

The sincerity in her words made your chest ache. You leaned into her touch, closing your eyes for a moment. "I want this," you admitted. "I want us."

Alexia's lips curved into a small, hopeful smile. "Then we try."

You nodded, opening your eyes to meet hers. "We try."

She leaned forward then, her forehead resting against yours. The moment was quiet, intimate, and filled with a sense of hope you hadn't felt in a long time. You didn't know if this would work, but for the first time, you believed it was worth the effort.

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