#BUT THIS WILL BE SO LONG 😭😭😭😭

[hannieween]

waaa thank you so much my queen 🧎🏻‍♀️

i love you so much 🩵😭 thanks for everything

strobe lights | lights out series

Joshua's search for an answer to the frenetic pacing of his life leads him down roads that could cause him more confusion. And fear.

✮ pairings: yoon jeonghan x female reader x joshua hong ✮ genre: angst, fluff, smut [18+] ✮ aus: theatre director jeonghan, rockstar joshua, polyamorous relationship ✮ word count: 23.2k

› 🎧: gemini – ethan low | i can't read your mind – meloh | you ain't gotta – hojean | house of cards – bts | different – woodz | habit – i.m | blue – v | screen time – epik high ft. hoshi | eleven – twlv ft. bibi | about you �� soulbysel, def.

→ season one — season two — read more

› smut warnings under the cut

✮ warnings: anxiety attacks, dark-ish themes, mentions of hard drugs. smut with plot, toxic joshua is back, mlm action uwu, consensual recordings of sex, jeonghan and joshua are into cucking, dom jeonghan, dom joshua, subby reader, dirty talk, corruption kink, pegging, sort of somnophiliac activities, praise and degradation kink, a long ass threesome, use of the word slut (lovingly), car sex, cum play, cum eating, rimming, slight sadism: face slaps, spanking. masturbation, blowjobs, anal sex, double penetration, cumming on skin, edging. pet names: baby, bunny, princess, filthy girl, good girl, sweetheart (hers) baby, babe, good boy (jihan) ✮ author's note: hi hi hi hi there everyone! just here with the usual note to indicate that instances where the words Bunny, Princess, or Baby are capitalized, are meant to signify Y/N, ok? ok. ty Baby (●'◡'●) ✮ author's note pt. 2: this is not proofread. i apologize in advance. ✮ disclaimer: minors dni this post is intended for 18+ readers. please have your age stated in your description and try not to look like a bot please 🙂.

part v

The elevator doors parted with a soft ding. Joshua stepped out, walking down the hallway on the floor he used to live in long ago. He stopped in front of your apartment door, breathing in slowly to calm the tightness in his chest. Bringing a hand up, he knocked three times and waited.

In his hand, he held a bottle of red wine. Joshua did not even know if the dinner went along with it. He preferred whisky. But he would let it slide, for tonight.

The door opened. “Ah, Joshuji! Welcome back!” his best friend chanted, instantly bringing him to a hug. “What’s this?” Jeonghan grabbed the bottle of wine, pretending to read the label. “I don’t know anything about wines.”

“Me neither,” Joshua replied dryly, looking at the interior space. Everything was tidied, his noise amplifiers had been removed and, in their place, stood a bookshelf with your first books displayed. He noticed; that those looked like the books you wrote before you met him.

“Wait here, let me go get her. I think she was taking a nap but, she’s so excited,” Jeonghan said briefly, settling the bottle of wine on the table and turning to the bedroom. “Baby! Wake up, there’s a surprise for you!”

The bookshelf also hosted a pair of pictures of you, one where Jeonghan was kissing your cheek. Before he could see the other one, his best friend came back, the thing in his chest hugged his heart even harder. You were striding close behind Jeonghan, your hand wrapped in his.

“Hi, Joshua,” you meekly stuck your hand out to him. “Jeonghan has told me about you,” a smile painted your pretty face. “Nice to meet you.”

The thing in his chest burst, making him freeze right there and then. Before he could control his body, his hand was reaching yours, in a handshake. The softness of your fingers. It felt right, it was you. You. His Bunny.

“Nice to meet you too,” he forced out.

A sharp intake of breath snapped him back to life. Sitting up in the bed, his senses were catching up. His hand palmed the bed, the spot beside him.

Only to find it vacant. You were not there; this was not your bed. He sat alone in a hotel room.

Joshua let out a breath, bringing his hands to rub his face, trying to calm himself down. He sniffed quietly, trying to hold back the pain throbbing inside his chest.

He searched for his phone in the dark, squinting at the light coming from the screen as he searched for your name. The last text message from you read, Going to bed. I love you! It was sent two hours ago. There was no reply from him.

His thumb trembled slightly before he pressed on the call button. But he held in his breath and pressed the phone to his ear. He still felt hazy, with the last slivers of his nightmare clawing into the back of his head.

“Hello?” he mumbled as soon as he noticed you picked up his call.

“Hi baby,” you replied sluggishly.

“I’m sorry,” he dropped his head slightly. “I’m waking you up.”

“What’s going on?” you asked, your voice went up slightly.

“I just wanted to hear your voice,” he replied, the thing in his chest stammered painfully.

“Is everything okay, Josh? You sound off,” you pointed, and he could almost picture the frown in your face.

“Yeah, baby, everything’s okay,” he replied, a low rasp from the feeling coiling in his throat made his tone sound unsure. “I just miss you terribly.”

You could tell that those last words made his voice thicker. “I miss you too, baby,” you replied sweetly. “I can’t wait to see you.”

“Next week, baby, I promise,” he whispered, rubbing the tips of his fingers on the corners of his eyes. “I’ll let you sleep now, okay?”

You paused. “Sure you’re okay, babe?”

The worry he heard in your voice soothed a part of the nasty feeling pulsating in his chest. “Yes, baby, don’t worry,” he mumbled with all of the assertiveness he could muster. “You can go back to sleep now, I’m sorry.”

“Okay,” you whispered. “I’ll go back to sleep, but call me tomorrow as soon as you can, please.”

“I’ll do that,” he smiled to himself, trying to picture your sleepy eyes. “I love you.”

“And I love you, Joshua,” you mumbled sweetly. “Sleep well.”

“You too, baby.”

The line went dead, and you lay your head on your fluffy pillows. After returning your phone to the nightstand, you sighed.

A hand quickly came to park on your tummy. “What’s wrong?” Jeonghan mumbled with a sleepy drawl.

“It was Joshua,” you explained faintly. “He had a nightmare.”

“Mmn, again?” Jeonghan asked, rubbing slow circles on your skin.

“He didn’t say it, but that’s what I assume.”

“But is he okay?”

“I don’t think so. He didn’t sound like it,” you whispered glumly. “I’ve been trying to get him to talk these past few days, but he swears he doesn’t remember anything.”

“We’ll go see him in a few days,” he shushed, caressing your hair to uncover your face to his eyes. “Don’t worry about him right now, baby. We can’t help him from here.”

“I just don’t want him to go into hiding again,” you mumbled faintly, nuzzling your face on the crook of his neck.

Jeonghan shivered slightly upon the gentle caress of your breath on his skin. “I’ll break him out of it if that’s what it takes,” he replied with certainty. “Now sleep, baby. Got a big day ahead tomorrow. We got to work.”

“Yeah…” you breathed against his neck, placing a small kiss. “Sleep.”

Joshua crafted a routine for himself. While on tour he had to learn one thing: he needed to have order. There was no room for worry, so he would not let his anxieties grow. So, he would call you everyday, although sometimes he could not get to your text messages on time, he made a rule to call you at least once a day.

He would hit the gym every chance he could get, and if there was no gym, he would go out for a run late at night, or before sunrise. Then of course, he would go to work: whether it was at a concert, or interviews, events, photoshoots…

However, there was something else happening within that routine too.

He woke up with a start, snapping his eyes open and sighed with frustration at the loud alarm vibrating beneath his pillow. He shut the high-pitched sound at once, letting his face sink onto the white fluffy pillows with a tired groan.

As he stretched out his limbs underneath the bed sheets, he turned over rubbing his eyes with the back of his knuckles.

Another sigh, he unlocked his phone, checking his schedule for the day, verifying he had three hours until his first activity. Then he moved onto checking the messages he had not attended to, discarding mentally those that seemed unimportant and pressing a thumb over your name.

Call me as soon as you can, please. I love you. Your message read. It was sent a couple of minutes after the phone call last night. If he called you right now, he would wake you up again. He could call you later.

The pad of his thumb slid up, swiftly finding the app where you shared a folder with him, and with Jeonghan. His heart banged against his chest. Is it normal to be this excited so early in the morning?

There were new files added to the secret folder that Jeonghan created a little less than a month ago. Lately, he had been getting a new video more regularly. Joshua wondered why the first few weeks of him going away he did not get anything.

But now, it seemed to him that you and Jeonghan had found a way to keep him updated… and busy. This was his routine. Wake up, check for new messages, watch your videos, work, come back to the hotel, call you, rewatch videos, sleep.

Now, he never considered himself a person that would watch porn. Not regularly, not even by mistake. Not because he did not like it. But because if he wanted to get his hands dirty, he would do so with someone who would have him. He was not interested in watching porn when he could do the real thing with someone.

But watching you like this changed his view in so many ways. He found out that he was wrong for thinking porn was not for people like him.

When he asked Jeonghan and you to keep him updated, he did it purely because he did not want to be left out. He knew he would miss seeing this side of you, so that was one of his conditions.

Joshua also found out, how well Jeonghan knew him.

He always begun his morning by watching one video Jeonghan recorded of you. The angle was perfect, it captured your body lying on the bed, so he could see perfectly from your hips to your face. Jeonghan’s hand pressed a toy to your wet pussy, pleasuring you without letting you stop for air.

“Jeonghan, please,” you whined, teary eyed, hands clutching the towel beneath your body.

“Please, what?” he asked, his voice low and almost aloof, much as if he were also caught up by the faces you made, and the sounds escaping your glossy lips.

“F-fuck me, just fuck me,” you cried out, your face scrunching as you moaned lewdly, thighs shaking uncontrollably. “Please…”

“Why should I?” he retorted. “Aren’t you enjoying this, baby? You’ve came five… how many times already?”

“Se-seven,” you mumbled shamefully, twitching on the bed.

Jeonghan pressed his finger on one of the tiny buttons of the vibrator he was holding against your clit. “Eight makes a nice number, don’t you think?” he asked.

Joshua hated that he knew by the tone alone that Jeonghan was wearing a smirk behind the camera. He knew his best friend so well that he had learned all his gimmicks. The vibrator went faster, teasing your engorged clit mercilessly.

“G-god, Hannie,” you gritted your teeth, closing your eyes tightly. “I’m coming, fuck, fuck, I’m g-gonna come.”

You stirred your back on the bed, sinking the back of your head on the pillow as you came, moaning loudly and so very lewdly. “Fuck, you’re squirting again, baby,” Jeonghan sighed, capturing your climax on camera.

“Please, no more,” you whined, teary eyed and panting. “I just need you, please, please.”

“Alright,” Jeonghan muttered, turning off the vibrator and tossing it aside.

But the video did not stop there. Jeonghan moved the phone closer between your legs, making sure Joshua saw your puffy clit, slick in your arousal, Jeonghan’s fingers slid between your folds, a string of arousal stretching between them.

Joshua’s cock stirred beneath his boxers, and he begun palming himself upon the sight of your messy cunt, the arousal dripping down the wet towel beneath you. The fingers spread your folds open, as you clenched around nothing with the aftershocks of the orgasm that forced through you.

The next video was one of his favorites.

It seemed to him that you barely had the chance to set up your phone camera pointing to you. You and Jeonghan were both sitting on the small couch of your office, you were facing the camera, your back pressed to Jeonghan’s chest.

Joshua liked to think that you chose this position so he could see your face. And it was probably the case. He stroked his cock with one hand, blood rushing to the tip as he spread his own precum all over it.

On this video, you were sitting on Jeonghan, riding him fast. You leaned back slightly so the camera perfectly captured you bouncing up and down Jeonghan’s dick. Your moans are quiet... until they were not when Jeonghan’s fingers came to the view, slipping between your pussy lips, rubbing your clit with fast swirls.

You came on top of him, clutching your thighs with your hands. Writhing, but you continued riding him, a moan escaping Joshua when Jeonghan’s cum dripped down his dick, as you continue fucking yourself on him.

Joshua swipes a finger onto the next video, where you are on all fours while Jeonghan fucks you from behind. He pumped himself faster, watching you come on Jeonghan’s cock over and over as he comes in his own hand.

Jeonghan fucks you as though he were having fun, when he fucks you, he does so playfully. There is a smile on his face as he grabs your ass, fucking you down his cock. The features of his beautiful face are riddled by bliss and pleasure, his throat bobs as he moans.

Every time Joshua watches this, he wishes he were in Jeonghan’s place; feeling you squeeze around him, your warmth wrapping him. But sometimes, if he dared to admit it, he enjoys watching his best friend’s face as he comes with you.

Joshua sent a glance down his lower abdomen, a few beads of cum splayed on his skin. But he ignored it, swiping again on the screen to take a look at the new video Jeonghan uploaded.

“Oh, you gotta be fucking kidding me,” Joshua muttered under his breath.

The video was inside Jeonghan’s car. The phone was mounted on the dashboard, capturing both Jeonghan at the wheel, and you on the passenger seat. Jeonghan was stroking your hair as you were leaning over to him, taking his cock in your mouth.

Jeonghan let out a breath through his teeth. “Fuck,” he gritted, letting his head fall back on the headrest of his seat.

You bobbed your head slowly on him, probably on his command so he did not come too fast.

Something you did with your mouth made Jeonghan laugh. “Fuck, baby, stop doing that or I might come too soon. We’re almost there.”

The lighting inside the car changed, quickly surrounding yourselves by an enclosed space that Joshua quickly assumed was an underground parking lot.

Jeonghan gripped the steering wheel tighter, biting his lower lip as he managed to park the car in a spot, shutting the engine off swiftly.

You lifted your head from his crotch, darting a shy glance around you before clicking your seat belt off. “Move your seat back,” you urged, palming his thigh suggestively.

Joshua was surprised to see you take the light slap Jeonghan gave you on one cheek. “Don’t boss me around,” he used the same hand to cup your chin, squeezing your cheeks to then kiss you chastely.

But he did what you asked anyway, pushing his seat back as you shifted onto your knees on his sides. You moved your hair to one shoulder, uncovering your face to the camera as you leaned over to continue sucking his dick.

Joshua continued watching, languidly playing with his cock as the blood rushed again to the head, growing harder and harder. He encircled his shaft with his fist, pumping himself to full hardness, groaning under his breath as Jeonghan brought a hand down on your ass, spanking you firmly.

Jeonghan drew in a breath, stretching his back in an attempt to resist the pleasure building up inside him. “Fuck, you’re so good at this, baby,” he groaned, squeezing his eyes tightly.

Joshua rolled his hand on his own cock, pumping fast as he remembered how good your pretty mouth feels when you pleasure him; he imagined he was there instead of Jeonghan. You whimpered on Jeonghan’s cock, making him moan as he gathered your hair with his hands, following the movements of your head on him.

“Why don’t we show Joshuji what you’re wearing, baby?” Jeonghan asked, his voice was already turning raspy in wanton.

Joshua’s heart stammered upon hearing his own name being voiced by Jeonghan on the video. This occurred with frequency, and he knew this was Jeonghan's way to taunt him, even through videos.

You paused, pulling off his cock to nod with your head. “Yes, Hannie,” you replied sweetly, but leaned down to continue blowing him off.

“You’re so fucking needy you couldn’t wait till we got home to show him,” Jeonghan rasped, keeping a hand on your hair as he used the other to hike your black mini skirt up, revealing an equally black string thong and stockings.

Joshua shifted his gaze from the side of your face to Jeonghan’s hand caressing your ass gently, pausing to give you a playful spank to make you moan.

Jeonghan sighed, closing his eyes in enjoyment. “Fuck, baby. I need you now,” he urged, releasing your hair.

You stopped sucking him off, pushing yourself from your seat and crawling onto Jeonghan’s lap, clumsily straddling him on his seat. Jeonghan reclined the seat back, making you giggle shyly in the heat of the rushed moment. 

Joshua felt disappointed now that he could not get a view on your face. But the feeling was quickly replaced when Jeonghan hiked your skirt up again, uncovering your ass to the camera. Then he understood why he had not seen that thong on you before; it was one of those that left your pussy uncovered completely.

Joshua got a clear view of your hand guiding Jeonghan’s cockhead to your entrance, hearing your whimpers as you sank down on his cock, moving your pretty ass slowly, as though adjusting yourself on him.

“God,” you whimpered, dropping your head on his shoulder as you bounced on Jeonghan gently at first.

Joshua moaned deeply. All focus was on the sight of Jeonghan’s cock disappearing inside your pussy. You were picking up the pace, cupping one of his cheeks to bring him into a kiss to muffle your sweet moans.

“Are you enjoying this?” Jeonghan asked longingly looking at the features of your face.

“Yes Hannie,” you nodded dazedly.

“You’re so fucking wet, baby,” he murmured, a light smirk painting his face. “You should’ve told me you wanted to fuck in my car sooner.”

It was the first time you had sex in a car, and it was even more exciting than when you first brought it up to Jeonghan. You and Jeonghan had been playing a game of chasing new first times, together.

Ever since he took you in a dressing room of a clothing store, an idea sparked in your head. And now, you were there, in his car, grinding on him.

“Fuck, I’m close,” Jeonghan sighed in pure pleasure, his hands gripping your waist over your skirt. “I need you to come now, princess.”

“I-,” you choked out, and Joshua could hear the shyness in your tone. “I can’t, Hannie. I’m a little sensitive.”

“But you were begging to have my cock last night,” he rasped, a lazy smile drawing on his face.

“Hannie,” you gasped aghast, but Joshua noticed how your hips stuttered.

“What? Don’t you want Josh to know? How you couldn’t stop bouncing this little pussy on me last night?” he asked, but his tone sounded even more gruff and airy. Joshua knew by the tone alone that he was closer.

“Hannie,” you cried reproachful.

“Your pretty pussy needs to be filled everyday, right baby?” he looked at you languidly. “Come, baby,” he rasped. “Be a good slut for me.” 

It seemed to Joshua that in his time away, his best friend had just discovered how much you liked to be talked filth. You nodded frantically, riding him faster.

“G-god, just like that,” Jeonghan grunted blissfully, gripping your waist tighter, hiking the skirt up your back, so Joshua could see the recoil of your ass on Jeonghan’s thighs every time you sank down on him.

Joshua moaned, unable to yank his gaze from the screen. You were riding him faster, eagerly. Jeonghan smiled playfully at you, sighing in pure pleasure.

“Jeonghan,” you whimpered, rolling your hips on his dick with full desperation. “Hannie, I’m close. God, I’m so close.”

“Yes, c-come on my cock, baby,” Jeonghan replied, evidently enjoying how pathetic you were being. His arms encircled your waist hugging you as you hid your face flush on his shoulder. “God, god, princess.”

“Hannie…” you cried out lewdly on his neck, your hands holding onto his shirt for dear life. His arms held you tighter, sighing out a strangled moan as he came with you.

“You’re so good for me,” Jeonghan muttered gruffly, clearly spent. “So good.”

You stopped riding him languidly, his hands now moving on your sides to push your hips up, spreading your pussy lips with his hands as his cum started dripping out of your entrance.

Joshua clenched his jaw, groaning deeply as ropes of cum landed on his fist, closing his eyes so tightly he saw stars. The video was cut there, and he stared at it as he panted, trying to recover and process how much he had liked seeing Jeonghan’s cum dripping out of your used hole.

He threw his phone aside, languidly letting his arms rest for some seconds before he rose from the bed, going directly to start the shower. Standing under the warm shower stream, a thought crossed his mind.

It had seemed as though you and Jeonghan were cruising some kind of honeymoon stage. As much as he hated to admit it to himself, you looked in love. And he knew his best friend for long enough to know that he was head over heels for you too.

The only thing he hated though, was that he was not as present in your life.

He came back to the bedroom to find his phone vibrating on the mattress, and he picked it up after reading your name on the screen. As he took the phone to his ear, he stopped at in surprise at the sight of your face, understanding it was a video call.

“Hi, handsome,” you smiled, clearly noticing that he had thought you were phone calling him. You were still in bed, bundled up in blankets, an arm tucked under your head.

“Oh, hi beautiful,” he replied in kind, his hair dripping wet on his shoulders.

“Did I catch you in a wrong time?” you asked, looking at his naked collarbones covered in droplets of water.

“No, baby. It’s fine, I was about to get ready for my day,” he shrugged lightly and looked for a place to prop his phone so he could get dressed.

“Hannie is here,” you mentioned as Joshua placed his phone against the lamp on the bedside table.

Jeonghan lifted his head from the pillow beside yours. “Hi, Joshuji,” he chanted groggily.

“Hi, Jeonghannie,” he replied with a light smile on his face. The image of you and Jeonghan in bed was not strange to him, as that also formed part of his routine sometimes. “Did you guys just wake up?” he asked, turning to fish a pair of clean boxers from his bag.

“Yeah, like two minutes ago,” Jeonghan groaned with clear annoyance that you were already on your phone video calling Joshua.

You giggled meekly. “Don’t get grumpy,” you teased as the man shifted from his pillow to your chest, getting comfortable on top of your body.

“You don’t let me sleep, so you’ll suffer my grumpiness,” Jeonghan muttered, closing his eyes. “How are you doing, Joshuji? You look tired.”

“I am tired,” he said.

“You have bags under your eyes,” Jeonghan added with a slight mischievous smirk.

“Shut up,” he hissed, feeling his own lips stretching into a smile as well. “You look pale and wrinkly.”

“Are you sure you’re not sick?” his best friend retorted. “Maybe you should take some days off.”

“Stop it, you two,” you huffed, and Joshua giggled bemusedly at your annoyed face.

“Did you watch the videos?” Jeonghan lifted his head only to blurt out that question, you rolled your eyes at him.

“I did,” Joshua coughed out a dry chuckle. “You two have been really busy.”

He stared squarely at the screen of his phone for a second before unwrapping the towel from his waist, trying to ignore that both you and Jeonghan would see him putting on his boxers.

“Ah, a little warning next time!” Jeonghan grumbled, turning his head on your chest as you chuckled.

Chewing on your lower lip to avoid smiling wider you placed a hand on the back of Jeonghan’s head. “Are you busy today, Josh?” you asked sweetly.

Joshua could not help but smiling at the sight of you being soft with both him and Jeonghan at the same time. A warm feeling bloomed inside him. “Yeah,” he replied to your question with a sigh, fetching a t-shirt as he put it on. “I have a packed schedule today. We have to shoot a couple of interviews back-to-back. But then I’ll have a whole day to myself.”

Your fingers started playing with Jeonghan’s long dark hair. “Mmn, you should come straight back here,” you murmured softly.

“I’d love that, baby,” he replied in kind, pouting at you before giving you a smile. “I guess I could grab the earliest flight after I’m done,” he said, following your game.

You knew this was nearly impossible. Not only did Joshua had a ton of activities to do to promote his new album, but you knew how much money it was put towards transportation. Flights were expensive.

But Jeonghan turned his head over, sneaking a look back on the screen. “Our flight is in six days; we could do something.”

Joshua saw in his eyes that he had started to plan but looked at you and then back at him. “Yeah, probably. I’ll check,” Joshua said with a dismissive air, but kept looking at his best friend.

“Yeah, yeah, sure, you do that,” Jeonghan replied, but sent him a meaningful look.

“Right,” he sighed. “I gotta go, baby. I’ll call you later tonight,” he paused. “Bye, Jeonghannie.”

“Bye, Josh,” you mumbled sweetly, giving him a sad smile. “Love you.”

“I love you,” he replied.

“Love you, Shujiii,” Jeonghan chanted mockingly, grabbing the phone from your hand and ended the call.

“This color suits you.”

Joshua looked at the woman in front of him. She was young, the bright glimmer in her eyes told him that much. Her long dark hair was draped on her shoulders, covered with a nice pink blouse that was just adorned with a microphone.

“Thank you,” he replied, mustering up a kind smile.

“Where are the others?” she asked, looking around him.

“They’re getting their makeup done. They’ll be here in a couple of minutes,” he looked at his watch.

“Oh, cool. That gives me time to reread my questions,” she showed him a smirk, looking up and down her cards and then back to his eyes.

If Joshua meant to read that smirk, he kept himself from doing so. Nodding at her politely, he just stepped back. “Okay. I’ll tell them to get ready,” he lied just to excuse himself, turning back to the dressing room.

He pulled out his phone, unlocking it to find a series of texts messages from you. You usually updated him throughout the day, whenever you felt like the chat you had together was running dry.

So he found a series of photo. First it was a photo of you coming out of bed, holding a fist at the camera in sign of motivation. Have a nice day, Joshie! Your text read. The next photo was the breakfast you made for two, though obviously one plate was for Jeonghan, Joshua found himself smiling. You had made French toast, and that alone reminded you of Joshua.

The last picture was your favorite mug, broken in pieces on the floor, coffee splashed all around it. Jeonghan scared me and I dropped my mug (┬┬﹏┬┬), the text read.

But before Joshua could reply, a member of the staff working on the production of the big company they were being interviewed by called them. They had their go.

“Come on, let’s go! Let’s go, let’s go,” Jihoon chanted over and over, more to himself than to the other two members of Midnight Haze.

“Let’s go,�� Vernon replied dryly, but in his own enthusiastic way. 

Joshua just nodded and went along with his two bandmates, walking through the tight space of the long hallway. He grew more and more restless as he reached the end of the hall and then the double doors.

The studio was small, and it looked even more cramped by the sound and lighting equipment, the sets of cameras surrounding the set, and the people tracking every single thing that happened during the filming of the interview.

This was not the first time Midnight Haze was interviewed. But it was certainly the first time with such a big production team. This was going to be aired on TV.

And he did not know what to expect.

A very smart PR company was going with Midnight Haze since they started touring again. But not everything was under their control, and as they grew more and more famous, people would naturally start picking them apart, piece by piece.

Needless to say, Joshua was nervous. Fidgeting with the watch on his wrist. He pushed his sleeves once more to his elbows, though pointlessly since they were rolled tight.

One man indicated each member of the band where to sit. And it was not a surprise that Joshua was told to sit diagonally to the interviewer.

Anxiety hugged his chest tightly, but he tried to push it down, swallowing hard and resting his palms on his lap.

“Going on five… four… three…” the man motioned with his fingers, two, one. Go.

All the cameras blinked with a red light, rolling. Joshua Looked at Jihoon and Vernon sitting beside him, looking alive in excitement and nervousness.

“And we are back, and we have a new guest in the studio, Midnight Haze!” the interviewer said, Maddy, Joshua reminded himself, her name is Maddy. She went on to giving a brief introduction to the viewers.

Midnight Haze was an independent band that grew rapidly to success. Or dubbed in the media as, Overnight Success, which Joshua thought was a dumb way to call their years of hard work, years of making music, framing their style, doing their best to put themselves out there.

But the media loves crafting stories. That is their job.

“So tell us more about your album,” Maddy prompted, looking expectantly at the three men sitting in the nice velvety red couch.

Naturally, Joshua had taken the position to answer to these questions, since he was considered the leader of the band, being the eldest, and the frontman. So he just replied. “It’s our first studio album. We worked really really hard to make it, and it means a lot for us to get this opportunity to share it with the world.

The following question was about the production of the album, which Jihoon replied to, taking the opportunity to speak as well, since he was the one who was the most well-versed in talking about songwriting and production.

Vernon took the next question was about touring, and visiting new places, getting to know new things and try new foods.

And lastly, the interview took a turn, diving into questions that sounded more personal. At first, Joshua thought nothing of it since it was a natural thing for media to put them in a tight spot. It was like an experiment, dropping a bomb of a question and see how they would react, make a viral video out of it.

But then, Joshua felt that he was being mocked at.

“Joshua, you had recently gained a reputation of yourself. You’re a bit of a ladies’ man. Want to talk to us about it?” she read her cards, lowering them to her lap with some nervousness. Then eyeing the text on her card and then back to his face, she added. “The people want to know, is there a certain someone in your life?”

Joshua felt as though a hand had squeezed the air out of his lungs. “Uh, no, no there isn’t,” he replied, adding a cough to clear his throat. Then realizing how he was acting, he put in quickly. “I am a free man.”

Joshua Hong, you idiot. He gritted his teeth, throwing a forced smile at the interviewer.

“Free as the wind,” Jihoon added awkwardly, making Vernon squeeze his face into a grimace, chuckling.

“Well that is all the questions I have for you today. Thank you for coming here!” Maddy clasped her hands together, flashing them a corporate smile.

“Thank you for having us,” Joshua replied. The staff member signaled them that the recording was over, and the crew swept in, getting ready to call it a day.

Joshua jumped from the couch, wanting to rip the microphone from his clothes, but someone got to it first, removing it with care before he did something reckless.

He needed a drink.

He undid one button of his white shirt, sighing in frustration and deciding to head back to the van and wait for the guys there.

“Hey, can I talk to you?”

Joshua turned to see Maddy approaching him. He made sure that the mic was nowhere to be seen, but he still felt weary as he nodded.

“I’m sorry about the last question, if it felt invasive,” she muttered awkwardly, looking around her before blurting: “I didn’t write it in, I didn’t want to ask it, but the team insisted.”

“Don’t worry,” he said, though he tried to sound as understanding as possible, there was an edge to his words. “I’ll better get used to you lot and your questions, right?”

Before he could take in the hurt expression of her face, Joshua turned his back on her, heading to the van.

IS JOSHUA TELLING THE TRUTH?

That was the title to the video that had gone viral within hours. As soon as the interview went live, people started picking it apart. Some to show their true support, some for pure entertainment.

Unfortunately, the latter was the one that gained strength. In a matter of hours, Joshua started seeing a slew, of comments linking the video for him to see. And when people started messaging him, he got worried.

So he ventured on the wild river that was the internet, quickly wishing he had not done so.

The video was a mix of other pictures and videos put together. Bits and pieces of the interview where he was asked about his recent reputation, and his stiff answer were compared to what was a theory crafted by someone who called themselves a follower.

What Joshua saw made the hairs of his nape stand. Is he telling the truth? The caption to the video read. And then he saw his own face, heard his own voice deflect the rumours by saying he was single.

And then, he saw you in the video.

It was just the outline of your body, and he could barely make out your face between the shadows of the photo. He tried to figure when and where this photo was taken, growing more and more restless when he came up with nothing. One thing Joshua new, someone he did not know took this photo.

Jeonghan was in the photo as well, walking behind you, grabbing your hand. The photo framed you as Jeonghan’s girlfriend. But then, the next photo showed you as well, wearing the same outfit, Joshua entering your building with you. Is this girl Joshua’s girlfriend? That was the theory.

The video meant nothing, there could be a thousand videos put together like this. But the damning thing was that it had gained traction, and with it, people that had a million things to say.

A thing which, Joshua dreaded like nothing else.

“Isn’t this going overboard, Hannie?” you asked innocently, setting down the towel on the couch.

“Is it?” he mused, humming as he propped the tripod on the coffee table, adjusting the camera to focus on the couch, and you sitting down on it, putting your hands neatly on your lap.

“I mean you even bought a camera for this,” you muttered between your teeth.

“That’s not true, I already owned this. I did buy the tripod, though,” he pressed the record button. “Wave to the camera, baby,” he instructed softly.

“Do you think Josh will like it?” you waved at the camera aloofly as it captured your movement, adjusting to the lighting of the living room perfectly.

“Mmn, I will,” he smiled at you, rising from his knees to approach you.

You tilted your head back, looking at him with bright eyes. “I know you will, baby,” you replied cutely at him. “But I also want Josh to like it.”

Jeonghan stopped to consider the idea for a second. “I think that he’ll like it too,” he shrugged. “We’ve never talked about our preferences around porn, but I know that he likes you.”

You giggled. “Okay.”

“Ready?” he asked, pinching your chin affectionately.

“Are you?” you grinned, causing him to click his tongue. “Yes, I’m ready Hannie.”

“Lie down, baby,” he motioned to the couch with his head.

“But don’t I—,” you stopped yourself before you could ask. “Mmf,” you hummed as you moved lying your head down on one large cushion as he pressed a knee on the couch, then the other.

“I want to kiss you first,” he explained once his chest was pressed to yours. “Come here,” he whispered, grabbing your cheek with one hand as he captured your lips with his.

“Mmn,” you responded so well to his touch, arching your back on the seats, your fingers sinking in his dark hair, pushing it back.

“You know that I love you, right?” he muttered with a gruff tone, pressing another kiss on your lower lip.

You nodded. “And I love you, Hannie,” you replied with a sweet smile, moving your hands to meet his waist.

Jeonghan shuddered, your hands slipped under his white hoodie, caressing the skin of his tummy. His eyelids fluttered a little, just as he bent down to kiss you again. “Not so fast, princess,” he grunted in your mouth, parting so he could flash you a grin.

“Don’t I get to call the shots tonight?” you teased, sliding your hands up his torso.

Jeonghan snickered. “Not really,” he lifted his arms as you slipped the white hoodie off him, discarding it on the floor without much thought.

“But you’re letting me undress you,” you mused, receiving his face with your hands as he gave you another long, passionate kiss, lips smooching against each other as you hummed.

His hand found the zipper of your hoodie now, sliding it downwards. “Because you’re letting me undress you.”

You silently watched him as he slowly discovered that you wore nothing beneath that hoodie. He had suspected it when he arrived at your apartment but finding it out was even more exciting. “No bra?” he smirked when you just nodded with a sheepish grin. “Is this the same case for your panties too?” he nodded at your short pajamas.

“No, Hannie,” you giggled at his question. The sound bubbly and full of joy.

His ears perked up at this. “Are you nervous?”

“Of course I am,” you cooed, brushing a rebellious strand of hair that tangled with his long eyelashes.

“Don’t be,” he muttered. “I’ll tell you what to do.”

“I want you to like it, Hannie,” you explained, your smile fading slowly as you gave in fully to the reason of your uncertainty.

“Don’t worry, I’ll like it,” he pressed his lips in a reassuring smile.

“Because you like me?” you quipped, referring back to what he had said about Joshua.

“Ah, but this is different,” he coughed up a chuckle. “You’re the one who’s going to, how did you put it?” he tilted his head with a dramatic pause. “Fuck me?”

That made the giggle return, brightening your face. “Hannie!” you said, pushing his shoulder a little.

“You will do all the work, I’m just going to tell you how,” he shrugged slightly, given that his arm was still pressed on the couch, propping his weight.  

Your smile faded once again, your eyes getting lost in the features of his beautiful face.

“What?” he noticed. “Are you starting to regret this, baby?”

“No, no,” you choked out. “I’m just—I wanna do this now,” you nodded.

“Slow down, princess,” he reminded you with a soft tone, leaning his face so he could meet your lips with his. “There’s no need to rush.”

“But I want to make you feel good,” you whispered shakily in between kisses. “Please.”

He let a soft breath through his nose. The pressure wrapping his heart was overwhelming him. “Okay,” he conceded, though it had not taken too much insisting.

You both moved on the couch, so he was now the one lying down, with you sitting on top of him. His hands reached out to grab the sides of your zip hoodie, tugging the sleeves clumsily to get them off you. You backed up, helping him take your hoodie off and dropped it on top of Jeonghan’s.

“God, you’re so beautiful,” he gasped, grabbing you by your waist as you leaned over to litter his face and neck with kisses.

“Thank you, Hannie,” you mumbled with a sigh, his hands were sliding up the line of your back, causing you to shiver. “You-you’re beautiful too.”

Jeonghan giggled. “Thanks, babe.”

You were creating a trail of kisses, starting first with his neck. He had a prominent Adam’s apple, which you kissed and adorned with a small hickey. Jeonghan tensed as you suckled on his skin, closing his eyes, and letting his mouth part.

You had never really marked him before, not because you had not wanted to, but because he would not let you. It was a game of his: not letting you touch him or pull his hair during sex, that also included hickeys.

But he was a different man now. Fully committed to you. It may be silly, but to you it seemed fair.

“Baby,” he breathed languidly, focusing on your lips on his skin only. He felt himself start to grow harder under his sweats.

“Mn?” you darted a look at him, only to find him peacefully enjoying your mouth on him.

“Keep going,” he muttered.

You smiled at him, which he did not see. But you lowered your head again, raking his chest with your fingernails as you suckled a lovebite on one of his collarbones.

It was as if the roles were reversed. You were usually the one pleading him to keep going, to go harder or faster. But in reality, you were still waiting for his command, following it with no second thought.

Slowly, you had created a small trail of red spots that led below his belly button, where he was strangely sensitive as your fingertips grazed his skin before slipping them beneath the elastic band of his boxers.

“Shit,” he whispered as you delivered another red mark on the soft hairs of his happy trail.

“You’re a bit sensitive down here, aren’t you?” you teased with a small grin.

“Shut up,” he groaned, opening his eyes to find you straightening up to tug his sweats boxers down.

You laughed at his annoyance as he pushed his hips up, letting you tug his navy-blue boxers and black sweats down, discarding his warm clothes on the floor.

You got to work at once, sitting on your knees between his legs. “Can I suck you off, Hannie?”

It was a question that he did not need to reply to. As your hand circled his shaft, he nodded, swallowing hard as you pumped him a few times, getting the tip to swell and redden with arousal rushing fast to it.

“Yeah, please do,” he murmured faintly, tipping his head back on the cushion as you pressed a kiss on his pretty cockhead.

“Hmm,” you breathed, wrapping your mouth around it, tasting the salty precum leaking from the slit. “Have I ever told you that I think your cock is pretty?”

Jeonghan started chuckling, chest vibrating with the sound of it. “That was the first thing you said when you looked at it, baby,” he remarked, reminiscing of the first night you saw him naked.

“Mn, I think it’s pretty,” you nodded aloofly, pumping him on his base as you leaned your head to take him back into your mouth.

“All yours,” he whispered, parting his lips in pleasure as you bobbed your head on him, sliding your mouth on his cock. “God, you’re so good at this.”

All he heard was a muffled laugh. His hands grabbed your hair, eyes shut tightly as you continued to give him head him eagerly, slurping sounds coming from your mouth as you sucked him off as if your life depended on it. Your tongue swirled around his cockhead, sucking his length every time you pulled your head up. 

“Fuck, fuck,” he gritted, seeing stars. “Baby, stop—stop. I don’t wanna come so soon.”

You pulled out of his cock a second after his rushed pleas came out of his mouth, looking at him wide eyed as he breathed hard. His fingers slipped off your hair, hands falling on his sides languidly as he eyed you meekly.

“All good?” you whispered.

He nodded with his head on the large cushion. “Yeah,” his mouth slowly stretched in a smile. “All good.”

You leaned over his body when his hand reached out to grab you, cupping your cheek as you met his lips with your own. You moaned into the kiss when his tongue swiftly swiped a line on your lower lip, finding your tongue with a moan on his part.

“Are you wet, baby?” he asked, his voice thickened with arousal.

“Don’t you want to find that out?” you smirked playfully at him.

“Tsk,” he tutted. “You’re bratty today.”

But you giggled in triumph when his hand sneaked down your lower tummy, past the band of your pajama shorts and panties to cup your pussy, feeling the warmth and wetness pooling in there.

“Princess, you’re soaked,” he gasped, feeling your panties damp against the back of his fingers. “Do you enjoy sucking me off that much?”

You stole a kiss nodding at him, a moan escaping between your lips when he dipped a finger inside your entrance, followed by another. 

“Mm, baby, I want to feel you right now,” he purred in your mouth, pumping his fingers in and out, but doing it teasingly, knowing that it would get you nowhere near your climax.

“Oh, y-yes, Hannie,” you curled up against him, pushing your hips towards his hand, trying to get him to reach the spot in your walls you liked him to finger so much. You pushed your pajama shorts down to your knees, tugging your panties down as well in eagerness.

Jeonghan smiled, seeing that you were so distracted by your newfound pleasure that you forgot what the plan was initially. “So you don’t want to fuck me anymore?” he teased playfully, conscious of the word choice he was using.

Your eyes fluttered open, a light frown appearing on your face. “No—I still want to.”

You clumsily stepped out of your pajama shorts and your ruined panties, discarding them also with the rest of the clothes on the floor. Now, you were both fully unclothed and ready for each other.

Your cheeks were painted with heat, lips glossy and puckered as you sneaked a kiss on Jeonghan’s lips. “Tell me what to do?” you muttered, your tone quivering but still managing to sound cute to his ears.

“Relax,” he instructed first, squeezing your hip fondly. “Grab the bottle of lube, Princess,” he told you softly, and you reached back for the bottle of lube that you almost forgot on the coffee table, taking the freedom to also grab the toy sitting beside it.

Jeonghan pushed one knee up, the sole of his foot still planted on the couch as you scooted closer between his legs. “Remember how we do this, baby?” he called, making you yank your gaze from his naked body splayed on the couch and found his eyes.

It took you a second to understand what he was implying. You gulped hard, nodding quietly as the memory of Joshua fucking your ass flashed through your mind. Or the times when Jeonghan fucked you from behind, his fingers playing with your puckered hole, while shoving his cock in your pussy.

The bottle of lube emitted a soft clicking noise when you opened it. Reminding yourself to breathe, you spread the cold lube on the pads of your fingers, trying to rub them together as you leaned over towards Jeonghan. You kissed him softly at first, his hands roaming all over your body made you moan into his mouth, deepening the kiss.

Your fingers trailed down, heart beating faster inside you when Jeonghan adjusted his hips for you, making it easier to find the path down his shaft. A shudder ran down your spine when you sneaked a look down his body, finding out how hard his cock was, precum leaking out of the tip and falling on his skin.

Beneath your nervousness, you found a reason to smile at him. “Have I ever told you that I think you have a cute ass?”

“I would remember something like that,” he giggled, his perfect set of teeth.

You leaned down, pressing a kiss on his teeth. “You have a cute ass, Jeonghan,” you mumbled.

“It’s funny because I don’t have any,” he mumbled, groaning quietly when your fingers make their way down the shaft of his cock, grazing his ball sack with the back of your fingers. “Joshua has a cuter ass. It’s rounder than mine.”

You laughed at his statement, uttered in a rush. “How do you know?” you retorted. The pads of your fingers pushed down on his puckered hole, gently at first, tentative.

A small grunt escaped his lips, his body tensing slightly on the couch. “It’s okay, keep going,” he put in gently, closing his eyes briefly. “It’s just cold,” he smiled shyly. “Oh, I know,” he sent his gaze to the ceiling. “Shua use to let me use it as a stress ball sometimes.”

“Really?” you mumbled, outlining his features with your gaze. Enjoying the dazed look in his eyes. “What changed?” you asked, pressing kisses on his lips as you pushed your finger in, feeling his muscles relax and contract around you.

“Well, you came along. And here we are now.”

“Here we are,” you grinned, pushing the tip of your finger further in. “Hannie?”

“Don’t worry, baby. You’re good,” he showed you a smile.

That emboldened you to keep going.

“You can use two now,” he mumbled, grabbing you by your hip, clenching your skin softly.

You recalled all those times Joshua used his fingers to prep you, a wave of arousal coursing through your body when you saw Jeonghan swallow a moan, when your lubed fingers went further in a bit, spreading him open gently. You remembered how it felt like, and you felt like moaning too.

“More,” he rasped, closing his eyes, a soft sigh brushing your lips.

Your body grew tense with excitement when you saw him bite his lower lip. His hand shifted on your hip, finding your tits to knead, his thumbs brushing your nipples, swirling the pads around them, getting them hard.

“Hannie,” you mewled, shuddering against his touch. Your skin prickled, he fiddled your nipples between his pointer and middle fingers, palming your breasts with a low hum from his part.

“Use the toy now,” he instructed, giving you a slight nod with his head in reassurance.

You bristled with anticipation, sitting back on your heels to grab the toy with one hand and the bottle of lube with the other. “Should I put it on first?” you asked innocently, looking at the double ended toy that allows you to feel pleasure as well. 

“If you want to, baby,” he said.

You decided to do something before putting it on yourself. Smearing some lube on your hand, you lubed the dildo up, sneaking a look at your boyfriend as he noticed your shaking fingers.

“Relax, baby,” he reminded you. “I’m going to like it.”

Jeonghan tilted his hips for you, sucking in a breath when you used your lubed fingers to spread him open. His own hand coming in to help you as you pressed the tip of the dildo against his puckered hole.

Glancing up his face and down his body, you continued to push in, slowly, shallowly thrusting the toy as his mouth fell open, his eyelids fluttering as he closed them with a small sigh. You retracted the toy using more lube with your fingers to thrust another inch in, slowly.

“Fuck, baby,” he chocked out his hand snapping to grab your wrist. His eyes were blown wide with lust. “Put it on, now,” he commanded.

You nodded silently, pulling out the toy gently as he reached out to grab the remote controller from the coffee table. “Wait, Hannie, are you sure?” you asked, the toy flashing a single led light, ready to be used.

“Yeah,” he replied shortly. “I need you to feel it too.”

The end that you were using was a smaller vibrator that attached itself to the dildo with a magnet, that way you did not have to use a harness and were able to feel pleasure too. Jeonghan took the vibrator from you, realizing that he also had spread lube on his fingers and pushed himself from the cushions of the couch to press the pads of his fingers against your pussy.

“Hannie!” you flinched, surprised that in seconds he had moved that fast.

“I need you right now,” he explained with a gruffy edge on his tone, his fingers rubbing lube on your messy cunt.

“F-fuck, I’m sorry,” you squirmed, as he sent you a look before nudging the tip of the smaller vibrator on your entrance.

“It’s okay,” he whispered, pushing in the vibrator inside you. It was bulbous but designed to lodge itself inside your walls. “Ready?”

“Y-yeah,” you nodded nervously, leaning your body over as he lied down again. You bit your lower lip, nudging the tip of the larger vibrator against his hole, feeling emboldened by the reassuring look he sent you.

“God, fuck,” Jeonghan gasped, his body tensing on the couch as you inserted the vibrator by pushing your hips towards his, thrusting shallowly, and clumsily. “Fuck, k-keep going, baby.”

Jeonghan took one big gulp of air, and you mimicked the action unknowingly right before you retracted your hips, a hand flying to hold onto his thigh as you met his hips with your own, penetrating him fully.

“God, princess,” he groaned languidly, jaws tightly clenching together as his face contracted in pleasure.

“You okay?” you mumbled, eyeing his finger on the remote.

“Yes, baby,” he smiled, finding your worry endearing.

“I just—fuck, Jeonghan!” you screamed at him when the vibrator inside you came to life, sending strong pulsations on your walls, on that glorious spot it was lodged in. “Warn me next time!”

“There she is,” he muttered, biting the tip of his tongue as he too relished at the feeling of the vibrations running inside him. He patted your hip with one hand. “Move, baby, I need you.”

Your other hand found his hip, as you retreated yours to meet right back in, swaying them gently, pushing the vibrator to massage him slowly at first. You moaned, feeling the toy work its miracle inside you as it was inside him.

But his face was a complete mirage, he was biting his lower lip, his half-lidded eyes on you the whole time as you thrusted your hips against him. It was hard to find a pace you could keep, you felt stiff and clumsy. But once Jeonghan’s mouth parted, giving way a series of sweet moans, you found your goal to elicit more sounds from him.

Your hands found his thigh, wordlessly motioning to lift it, pressing it against his chest. Another raunchy moan came out of his lips as you moved your hips on him faster, making him grab your ass to follow the motion of your thrusts. 

“Fuck, baby,” he groaned lewdly, his voice thick with arousal. “Princess, touch me, please.”

You frowned before you sent a look down his body. Your fingers circled his hard cock, pumping him at the same pace your hips were meeting his. His moans became louder, harder to control as he shut his eyes tightly. “Right there, baby,” he rasped, his eyes teary.

“Oh, Hannie,” you moaned, hips rutting against him desperately, the vibrator pulsating inside you harder every time you hit your hips clashed with his. His face, riddled with pleasure made it impossible for you to hold it any longer.

“God, baby,” he gasped, his eyebrows drawn in. “I’m g-gonna come,” he whispered, closing his eyes for a long second.

And then he started making the sweetest, rawest sounds you have ever heard in your life, his lower lip was trapped behind his teeth, moans coiling in his throat as you fucked him through his high. Ropes of cum spurted from his tip, landing on his tummy, and just kept leaking, eliciting a moan from you.  

You looked at your fist, the back of your fingers coated with Jeonghan’s cum. “Baby,” you gasped, realizing that he was still heaving. “Okay?”

Jeonghan chuckled lazily. “Princess, I swear,” he drawled. “That was amazing,” he said with a long sigh.

You giggled cutely at his face, relaxed with the aftershocks of his orgasm. “Let me go get something to clean you up,” you muttered, using your hand on his hip for support as you retracted your hips back.

He moaned, shuddering when you carefully pulled out the toy from him. “Thank you, baby,” he whispered, resting his head back on the cushions.

The living room was even quieter when you returned, thinking that Jeonghan might have fallen asleep as you went to the bathroom to wash your hands and to get wet hand towel. 

But no, his head turned to follow your movements with his gaze, he had been waiting for you starting at the ceiling.

You decided to straddle him, sitting on his thighs comfortably to wipe the cum from his tummy with gentle motions. “So,” you started, a smile playing on your lips. “You’ve grabbed Joshua’s ass?”

Jeonghan let out a breathy chuckle, the corners of his eyes wrinkling. “Ah, I should’ve known you wouldn’t let that go.”

“Answer my question,” you quipped.

“Yeah, I have. Why is that important?” he rumbled, sending a look to the camera that was still rolling.

You followed his gaze, finding the blinking red light of the device. “What, you don’t want this recorded?” he gave you a look. “Why? You could always cut it out,” you shrugged.

“It’s going to be a bitch to edit,” he sighed heavily. “You know what, fuck it. Yes, I used to have a crush on him.”

The shock upon hearing that was like nothing else. “Used to?” you raised your eyebrows.

“Long ago, baby,” he rolled his eyes. “Like waaaay before he met you.”

“Does Joshua know?” you asked at once, heartbeat stammering hard and fast against your chest.

“Does he…” he repeated, dumbfounded. His frown eased. “Of course he knows, baby. I told him. Besides, he already suspected it when we talked about it.”

“He did?” you gaped at him. “Well, you were either too open about it or he was exceptionally good at noticing.”

“Yeah, okay, it wasn’t just a crush,” he rolled his eyes, chuckling dryly with an awkward air surrounding him as he caressed your thighs. “I liked him quite a lot. It was embarrassing.”

“Why embarrassing?” you giggled sweetly. “Hannie, why did you never tell me this?”

“For obvious reasons,” he replied. “It happened long ago, baby. It doesn’t even matter now.”

Bewildered, you huffed. To think that Jeonghan has had feelings for you and Joshua was something that would take you a little bit of time to digest.

“So what happened?” you pried even more. “When you talked about it, how did Joshua react?”

Jeonghan pouted, humming in thought. “It’s simpler than you think, baby. I trust him, and he trusts me. I told him that I liked him, he told me nothing would happen between us. So I put a stop to what I felt, and never risked losing him as a friend again…”

Until you came along, the words were not said, but they echoed between you and him.

“You put a stop to what you felt?” you echoed confusedly.

“I did. I forgot about it eventually. If you’re thinking that I still have feelings for him, I don’t,” he chuckled dryly. “If that wasn’t obvious already…”

“It’s not obvious, Hannie,” you retorted. “I mean, you’ve had sex with him–I mean, not with him, but with me while he’s there too. That doesn’t make you think that you might still have a crush on him?”

“No,” he replied at once. “That happened long ago, and it was for a brief time, baby.”

“I’m just curious,” you shrugged, shyly looking at him. “You know? You’re in a relationship with me and him, in a way…”

“Yeah, I know how it looks. And yes, it is weird at times, but he’s still my best friend,” he brushed the back of his finger down your cheek. “I love you, and I’m happy being with you.”

You smiled, leaning to press a sweet kiss on his lips. “I love you too, Hannie.”

“So what’s next?” he asked, his tone was still languid. “What’s next on the list?”

“Do you want more, Hannie?” you asked, teasingly.

There was no list. But when you mentioned to him you wanted to try out new things, Jeonghan wasted no time and got to work.

“Not right now,” he sighed a smile. “But I wanna know what you would like to do next.”

“Mmn, we tried pegging, car sex—”

“How come you’ve had anal sex with me, but I haven’t had anal with you?” he blurted, knowing what the bold wording would do to you.

“Hannie!” you squealed, scandalized.

“It’s just a question!” he coughed out a silly giggle.

“We could try that next,” you shrugged.

“Mm, but we could do that later,” he said, stroking one of your arms languidly. “I want to do the crazy shit. Ever had sex in a pool?”

“No, Hannie,” you giggled. “I don’t think that’s sanitary.”

“Maybe just a little fondling,” he shrugged with one shoulder.  

You rolled your eyes dismissively. “Mmn,” you drew out your hum this time. “I want to do it in an open space some day,” you mumbled.

“Like in a beach, or something?” he mused.

“No–not a beach. I don’t like sand sticking to my skin,” you shuddered.

Jeonghan found that cute, and his smile made tiny dimples show on his chin. “Then where, baby? We could go camping.”

“I’d like that,” you whispered, lost in his sweet eyes. “With Josh too.”

“Of course, princess,” he conceded, wanting nothing else but to make you happy. “Now, could you stop the recording, please?” he chuckled again. “I really don’t want to cut out more footage.”

“Okay, okay,” you huffed, moving to reach out for the button to stop the recording, thinking of what Joshua’s reaction would be if he heard the conversation you just had with Jeonghan.

Joshua stood alone in the balcony of his hotel room, sitting on a dusty chair. Biting the tip of his thumb, he waited on the line for you to pick up the call.

“Hi beautiful,” he mumbled, starting to fidget with a loose thread of his sweats.

“Hi handsome!” you chirped right away.

“How are you, baby?” he sighed, heart, stammering uncontrollably in his chest.

“I’m good, I was working on my draft,” you replied, and he could tell by your tone alone that you were in a good mood.

He closed his eyes briefly. He could not do this to you.

“That sounds good,” he replied. “Hey–”

“How are you, Josh?” you asked.

“I’m fine, baby. Just tired,” he croaked.

“You sound tired,” you pointed.

“Yeah, I just got to the room. I’ve had a ton of work these past few days. And tomorrow a show, and can’t sleep right,” he grumbled.

“Why don’t you try?” you asked, sighing a smile. “I know, I’m the one to talk, but you usually don’t have issues sleeping.”

“Yeah it’s just that… I want to talk to you about something,” he drew in a breath, thinking of how to go over the thing that haunted his mind.

“Sure, what do you want to talk about?” you waited as he gathered his thoughts, then: “Is this about the video?” you asked promptly.

“You—do you know about that?” he let go of a huge exhale. “Why didn’t you say something?”

“Because it doesn’t matter, Josh,” you replied. “I just want to know that you’re alright.”

“A-are you—what do you mean it doesn’t matter?” he frowned.

“Nobody knows it’s me, right?” you mused. “Aside from the people who know that is me in the photos, nobody knows.”

“But they’re saying awful things about you,” he mumbled, brimming with remorse.

“I haven’t seen any,” you replied, and he knew by your tone that you shrugged. “Even if I did, I don’t care, Josh,” you insisted. “The only thing I care about is you.”

“I… I am not doing okay,” the confession made a knot in his throat. “You know I didn’t want anything like this to happen.”

There was a pause. Joshua felt his own heart beating in his throat.

“Babe, we both knew this would happen. At least I was aware of that when I started dating a popular rock singer,” you giggled sweetly. “That’s why I don’t let it affect me.”

“But what about…”

“My career?” you sighed heavily. “I don’t know yet, nothing has changed so I won’t worry about it.”

Joshua lied perplexed at your nonchalance. “Okay…”

“Do you feel better now?” you asked, your tone sugary and warm. “I don’t want you to stress over things you can’t control,” you reminded him.

“You’re right,” he mumbled, bringing his other hand to cover his face. “I’m sorry. I just…”

“There is nothing to forgive here,” you replied. “I love you, I wouldn’t get mad at you for something like this.”

“I love you too, bunny,” he replied. And even though your words did alleviate part of the turbulence in his heart, there was one thing that remained, one thing he needed to talk to you about.

But he could push it down. For now.

Joshua went back inside, closing the door to the balcony and drew the blinds down. Throwing himself to the hard bed of the hotel room, he ignored the busy noise from the streets outside the window.

The lights were off, so he thought of trying to sleep. It was early, so that could give him ample time to try to fall asleep. He closed his eyes, slowing down his breathing. The buzzing noise from outside, and the normal hotel room sounds were distracting. That and the cold, firmness of the mattress.

What he would give to sleep next to you, he thought. To be wrapped by your warmth, to hear those sweets sounds you make, to feel your body pressed against his.

He sighed heavily. The screen of his phone lit up, and that was reason enough to give up trying.

The notification was from Jeonghan. It was another video. This one was longer than any of those he already had uploaded to the shared private folder.

From the thumbnail, Joshua got a sudden rush of excitement. A distraction for the night. It was as if Jeonghan knew what Joshua needed.

The video was one of the most daring that you have sent him so far. Between car sex, public sex and such, this one was where he could see just how far Jeonghan could take you. You were on top of Jeonghan, pleasuring him with a toy.

Joshua saw in your face how entranced you were in the moment, pushing the toy in and out of him, smiling softly whenever Jeonghan moaned raunchily. Then, when you inserted the other end of the toy inside you, and started moving your hips on him, Joshua could not resist himself any longer.

He begun toying with his own dick, looking at Jeonghan’s dripping with precum. His hands on your ass, guiding your thrusts inside him. You pushed one of his thighs to his chest, picking the pacing of your hips against his.

A moan bubbled in Joshua’s chest, shuddering with overwhelming pleasure as you begun stroking Jeonghan’s cock, continuing to push the toy inside him, making the man moan obscenely.

For a moment, Joshua was not sure why he felt this aroused. Was it because of how you were fucking Jeonghan? Was it because he wanted to be in Jeonghan’s place? Or was it because he wanted to be in your place?

The thoughts swam in his mind, but he knew he had been holding them for a while now. However, he ignored tried pushing them away, tucking his hand beneath his sweats and boxers, pulling out his cock to alleviate the pressure building up.

He released a sigh between his teeth, caressing his hard cock. He watched your hips moving on him, Jeonghan’s face riddled with pleasure, your hand stroking him at the same pace of your thrusts.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” Joshua gritted.

“God, baby… I’m g-gonna come,” Jeonghan gasped lewdly, letting out a long, raspy groan.

You were moaning with Jeonghan, both looking at each other as you came apart in the couch. The sight was so alluring, so lewd that Joshua felt like moaning with you and Jeonghan, knowing that there was no turning back from this.

He pumped himself faster, the wet sounds created by his own hand on his cock complimented the sounds from your skin slapping against Jeonghan’s, your hand on his cock, your moans, Jeonghan’s moans. Ropes of cum spurted from him at the same time Jeonghan came in the video, driving that confusion deeper inside his brain.

Panting, Joshua stared at the screen, replaying the video, trying to figure out why he felt that blow to his heart.

Was it jealousy? What was it?  

Joshua stared at the lights hanging from the ceiling. The brick walls surrounding him were adorned with provocative art, there was a drum set to his left, his guitar sitting in front of him in a stand.

The studio was owned by one of his friends. When Midnight Haze made a stop in the city, Min Yoongi was the first to call them, offering to talk about music while having some drinks. While the other guys went out to buy booze, Joshua fell behind, deciding to rest in the meantime.

He was splayed on a sofa. Cadaver style, hands clasped on his chest.

Well, he felt like dying indeed. That is how bad his anxiety got. Dangerous thoughts swam in his mind, but he blew them away with a sigh.

It had gone dark. The studio was littered with the remnants of the booze the guys had. Vernon decided to call it a night, drunkenly heading back to his hotel room. Jihoon and Yoongi were on the rooftop having a smoke.

Kim Taehyung gathered his long wavy hair with his hands, brushing it back and messily, grabbing the band he trapped with his teeth and securing his hair in half a ponytail. He had started touring with his band Green Nocturne, opening for Midnight Haze for the upcoming shows.

Searching his side, he found his phone between the cushions of the smelly couch and unlocked it, finding the folder with the series of videos of you and Jeonghan, and videos of himself.

He quickly closed the app, heart jolting nervously in his chest.

“So, what do you want to do?” he released a sigh, crossing his arms on his chest.

Joshua raised his eyebrows in question. “I thought you were showing me some lyrics?”

“Ah, yeah, pfff, right,” he replied, humming as he searched for something, patting the pockets of his jeans, and then looking around.

Joshua moved from the old couch to sit on one corner of a large table, grabbing his tablet where he wrote lyrics or notes for his music.

“Where is that fucking thing,” Taehyung mumbled under his breath. “I swear if I lost it again…”

“This is the one I was telling you about,” Joshua pushed the tablet across the table to the side where Taehyung was standing.

The man stopped his search for his phone and took one look at the screen. “Oh, is this it?” he sent a glance and then read the screen, his fingers grazing the pages where Joshua poured a little bit of his heart.

He nodded a thing that Taehyung did not see.

“Dude, why are you getting rid of these?” Taehyung frowned, his eyes meeting Joshua’s. “These are good! I can even imagine a sound to these. A Midnight Haze sound, not my sound.”

Joshua shook his head slowly. “They’re too specific.”  

“Is this because of that viral video?” Taehyung’s gaze softened with shame. “Yeah, I saw it,” he explained before Joshua could even ask. “Don’t even worry about it. It’s fucking bullshit, man.”

“It’s true.”

The man paused, eyes flickering on Joshua’s features.

“It’s true, everything they said about me,” Joshua was rigid with rage, but he tried not to let it show in his eyes. “You even saw it, man. The night of the party.”

“I saw nothing,” Taehyung shrugged with ease. “What I saw was two people having fun, loving each other. It is none of my business.”

Joshua knew that Taehyung had seen you hand in hand with Jeonghan, and he also saw you exchange a steamy moment in a secluded hallway. Joshua let out a sigh. “I appreciate that, but that’s why I can’t use these,” he pointed at the screen with the tip of his nose. “I can’t have more online theories about her.”

Taehyung let out a thinking sound. “I don’t want to take something so close to you, man,” he smiled shyly. “You shouldn’t be afraid of using them.”

That felt like a needle piercing his heart. “I can’t,” the feeling made his voice quiver, reducing it to a whisper. He had to protect you. And Jeonghan.

“Can I ask?” Taehyung sat on the corner of the table too, so now they were both facing each other.

“Sure,” he shrugged. He trusted Taehyung, and right now, he needed a friend who was closer to his career and his personal life.

“Are you guys… is she really your ex?” he asked, the tip of his tongue pushing his lower lip from the inside.

“No,” he shook his head, the question sent an inevitable shudder through him.

“Is she his girlfriend? Jeonghan’s?” he asked slowly, but the look on his face told Joshua that he was getting a broader idea of where this was going.  

“We’re in a polycule,” he explained, trying to come off as nonchalant as he could, but in reality, he still struggled to be open with something that was so precious to him. “I don’t want to make it public, so.” 

“Ah,” he mouthed, nodding his head. “Yeah, I get it.”

“Can I ask, then?” Joshua returned, cautiously sending him a knowing look.

“Ask away.”

“How did you manage it?” he rolled his eyes, searching for words. “Your relationship with Baek?”

“Well, it was easy because everyone wanted to pair me with every woman I even so glanced at,” Taehyung huffed with slight annoyance. “So the world resorted to making me a womanizer and Baekhyun was just my best friend, you know.”

Joshua nodded in silence, even if that answered his question, he still felt like there was something missing.

“But then Jimin came along, and everything started getting messy,” Taehyung added, much as if he realized that there was something unanswered lingering in the air.  “It sort of died down when I started dating Mimi. But I guess that didn’t stick either.”

Even though there was not much to correlate that situation to his own, Joshua felt some sense of semblance. Having a humane conversation with someone who understood what distress comes with this kind of life brought a soothing hug to his heart.

“Is it fun at least? Being in a poly,” Taehyung smiled slightly as he asked. 

“Fun?” Joshua uttered, as though the word were foreign to him. “Yeah, I mean, he’s my best friend and I love her. So.”

“What do you mean?” he cocked one eyebrow. “Oh, you mean you’re only with her and not Jeonghan as well?”

“Yeah, that’s what I mean.”

“I assumed because of Jeonghan…” now he looked even more intrigued. “So you’re not bi as well?”

Even though the questions were heavily personal, Joshua did not feel uncomfortable. “Nope,” he frowned. “Well…”

There was a silence. Kim Taehyung waited, looking at Joshua as he gathered his thoughts with his heart strumming hard in his chest. To finally voice his thoughts about this aloud was panic-inducing for him, but for some reason, he was sure he could trust Taehyung.

“I don’t know,” Joshua let out finally, panic hugging his heart tightly. “It’s weird. Because there is no one else I’d rather share my partner with but him. I think I would have gone crazy if Bunny told me she had feelings for a different person. But when she told me about Jeonghan… I understood. Like it was meant to be.”

For a moment, it felt as though he were alone in the room, letting his deepest thoughts come out without any remorse, nor fear that he would be judged. That was the moment he knew.

“But I did feel jealousy. Part of me was certain that it was because I could not tolerate that Bunny had feelings for another man,” Joshua’s gaze swam upwards, finding the smoke-yellowed ceiling. “But I know now that my jealousy also came from the way that Jeonghan dropped everything to be with her. He was willing to lose our friendship for her, he cared about her, loved her, and… I was jealous of that.”

“But—,” Taehyung shook his head ever so slightly, much as if he were discarding a thought. “Sorry. I just need to ask, are you jealous that he’s paying attention to her… do you want that attention for yourself?”

Joshua found the strength to nod his head. “I think that it was when Jeonghan started to fall in love for her when I begun to wonder. What if…” he paused, his courage dying down for a minute. But he pushed himself: “What if I also want to receive the same love and attention that he gives her? Why do I want that?”

Taehyung showed him a wide smile. “Why don’t you try and talk to him about it? You know, go for it,” he offered his solution.

“He’s my best friend. What if it doesn’t go the way I want it to?” he shrugged in a defeated way. “I don’t want to make things even more awkward.”

The man huffed with genuine disbelief. “But you said it!” he giggled. “He is your best friend. I am pretty sure that he will understand.”

“What if he doesn’t?” Joshua insisted, his head tilting to one side.

“You never know if you never try,” his friend replied, a winning grin spreading on his lips.

“True,” Joshua conceded.

“Do you think she’ll understand?” Taehyung asked cautiously.

Joshua remembered the day you told both him and Jeonghan that you would be okay if things went that road. “Yeah. Of course. She’d have no problem with it.”

Now it was just a matter of his indecision.

“Then just try,” his friend nodded at him in encouragement.

He did not want to lose what he had with you and Jeonghan. He did not want things to take a turn for the worse.

You were sitting down on the couch, reading a book while sipping on a hot cup of tea.

The room was lit with a warm light coming from the lamp standing beside the couch, vibrant in color and soft tones of jazz coming from the flat screen. The whole apartment smelled of detergent and fabric softener, and the hum emitted by the dryer sounded far in the background.

You sighed, turning a page over, and continued reading. You had been immersed in this book for a while, every now and then you would express it on your face, pouting, eyes widening, or even gasping sometimes.

That was Joshua’s entertainment sometimes. He would sit on the armchair across from you and pretend to play some chords on his guitar, but in reality, all he did was watch you. Study the way your eyes would fly through the lines written on the pages.

But this time around, you noticed. “Are you okay, babe?” you asked, lifting your gaze from the book as you took one sip from your tea.

“Just watching you, Ms. Hong,” he mumbled with a soft smile.

“I know,” you smiled knowingly. “I noticed, Mr. Hong.”

“I’m fine, baby,” he gave you a slow blink. 

In his head, Joshua was cluttered with thoughts of the future. He wished he got the chance to meet you earlier in his life before he made the decision to give himself into his plans of being a musician.

The nagging urge to quit everything and just continue to have this quiet life with you haunted him. Sometimes the impulse overtook him, sending a rush of anxiety through his veins, much as if he needed to stand up and run away from something. He knew what it was, it was time coming to an end.

Granted, he never really felt like this was his life. He settled in with you, but this still felt like it was your apartment. It was your couch, your flatscreen. He just brought in his clothes and his guitar.

He felt like a guest in someone else’s life. Like this was life’s way to mock him. A what if in which Joshua Hong never dedicated his life to making music. This is what would have become of him. He would have been with you freely and loving you aloud.

Who knows, maybe he would have given you a ring already. Maybe he would have asked you to join him in an adventure together for the rest of your lives, far away from the spotlight.

You rose to your feet, leaving your book behind and approached him with a determination that he loved to see in you. He lifted his gaze to your eyes as you stood before him.

Carefully, you took his acoustic guitar from his grasp, placing it on the couch and turned to him. Joshua looked at you expectantly, knowing what would come next. He just opened his arms, embracing you as you sat on his lap.

“What is going on inside that head of yours?” you asked, eyeing him with curiosity as you wrapped your arms around his neck.

“You,” he breathed, heart beating faster in his chest.

That made you smile. “I’m here, Josh,” you giggled.

He brought a finger to your face, touching the tip of your nose affectionately. “I’m just thinking that you’re cute,” he scrunched his nose, smiling.

“Thank you, baby,” you replied, batting your eyelashes as you looked at his eyes, then his lips. “You are cute too.”

In the distance, the dryer went off with a short tune, signaling that the clothes were dry and ready to unload. The sound drove your eyes elsewhere, and you made a motion to stand up from his lap.

“No, no,” he whispered. “Don’t go anywhere.”

“I’ll just take a minute, Josh,” you said, giggling at him cutely when his arms pulled you closer to him. “Clingy,” you whispered, using your finger to touch the tip of his nose.

Joshua Hong opened his eyes, groaning with exhaustion against the hard pillows of the hotel bed. A dull pain wrapped around his heart, hurting even more with each second that passed and he slowly came to grips with reality.

He turned over, face down on the mattress, pushing his face against the pillows to feel something else other than the loneliness gripping him. He hugged himself, trying not to cry at the memory of you still clinging to his mind, seeing your face in his dreams, hearing your voice, he felt you in his dreams. It felt too real.

It was not a dream entirely, that did happen sometime before he left on tour. That day, he was thinking of quitting the band, quitting that life altogether so that he could start a life with you. The anxiety he felt for leaving you and his quiet life with you was eating him whole, just like it was now.

It was still early; he could just quit. They could find another singer, another person to fill in his shoes. Hell, maybe that person would be more fitting for Midnight Haze and would do a more decent job than him. Maybe that person will be happier in his place.

The pressure burst in his chest, like a punch in his gut, robbing him of air in an instant. Joshua pushed himself from the mattress, drawing in a big gulp of air, then another, then another.

The veins of his forearms begun to flare, arms shaking on the neat bed sheets, losing strength to prop his body up. His vision turned blurry, a loud buzzing sound blocking his eardrums, the only thing letting him know he was a live was the hard thumping of his heart against his ribcage.

He managed to turn over, gripping his chest with one hand as he tried at calming himself down, trying to slow down his own sharp intakes of breath to slower and deeper ones.

What snapped him out of it was the buzzing of his head dying down at the loud chiming of his phone. It took him some seconds to yank his gaze from the empty void in front of him and he looked at the screen of his phone. Yoon Jeonghan’s photo displaying on it.

“Joshujiiii,” Jeonghan chanted as soon as Joshua picked his call.

Joshua frowned when the sound sent a soothing feeling inside him, calming his heart at once. “He-hey, Hannie,” he croaked.

“Oh, did I just wake you up?” his best friend giggled. “Sorry about that, I can call later.”

“No, no,” he muttered quickly, trying to use the conversation to drive his attention away from his worries. “What’s up?”

“Are you coming over?” he asked, seriousness now lacing his tone.

“When? Tonight?”

“Yep. I know you didn’t say it as a joke,” he said, and by the way he pronounced each syllable, Joshua knew his friend was munching on something.

“I wasn’t being serious when I said it,” Joshua explained with sigh. “Bu-but there is a possibility,” he admitted.

“I knew it,” Jeonghan muttered with some kind of victory. “So? Are you taking a flight here? Then we could go back to where your big show is, all of us.”

“Yeah,” Joshua muttered weakly, bringing a hand to rub the corners of his eyes. “I’d like that.”

“Yeah?” he imagined his friend raising his eyebrows. “Well, I could find a plane ticket for you without Princess finding out. We could make it into a surprise for her.”

A smile crept on his face hearing Jeonghan bringing you up like this. His best friend, his partner in crime who loved you so much it warmed Joshua’s own heart. “Send me prices and everything. I’ll send you my details.”

“Sure,” he chirped. “You know, she will love seeing you. She misses you so bad even I’m starting to miss you too.”

Joshua was no idiot. He knew the reason behind that choice of words. You were worried about him, and even though you would not ask Jeonghan to intervene, this was his way of telling Joshua what was going on in your mind.

“Jeonghan,” he paused. “I’m fine.”

“No, you don’t sound fine,” Jeonghan huffed. “I can hear the snot in your voice. You’ve been crying.”

“Agh, really, Jeonghan. Sometimes I wish you weren’t so fucking tactless,” he groaned, rubbing two pads of his fingers on his brow.

“I’m just telling it how it is,” he imagined his friend shrugging with ease. “I wish you weren’t so fucking emotionally constipated.”

“Yeah, well not everyone can get what they wish,” he muttered with a sharp jab piercing his gut.

“Now you’re being emo, again,” Jeonghan retorted with a low chuckle that died a second before his tone went back to serious. “Seriously, Shuji, is everything okay? Do you want to talk?”

“Don’t worry about it,” Joshua quickly said. “We can talk later.”

“Mmn, okay. I’ll send you the info about the ticket in a bit.”

“I’ll send you my details,” Joshua paused. “Hannie?”

“Yes?”

“Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me, Joshuji,” he replied, seemingly knowing about Joshua’s situation without even being there, just by the sound of his voice. “I’ll see you later, okay?”  

You stretched your arms over your head, releasing a long groan as your muscles complained with you after sitting down on your chair for four hours without breaks. Content with your progress, even though it was little, you pushed yourself away from the desk and rose to your feet.

The mug had been left empty, aside from the bag of tea in it. You grabbed it as you made your way out of the office and went to the kitchen. You strode on the floor with your fuzzy socks on, feeling a sense of accomplishment at seeing your recently cleaned apartment.

Jeonghan would get out from work in a couple of hours and come to see you. That was the little routine you both had. You worked the same amount of hours that he did, and when he came home, you would stop typing and spend time with him.

You smiled to yourself. The day you would go visit Joshua drew nearer too, and it made you excited that you were going with Jeonghan too. It felt nice to have a stronger relationship with both of them, and it was also nice to see that they were closer.

As the electric kettle made a bubbly noise boiling the water, you tapped your fingers on the counter. Should I bring dinner for us tonight? Jeonghan’s incoming message snapped you out of your train of thought.

Just come straight here. I want to see your face. Read your message, not caring that you were acting clingy already. Even though you saw each other nearly everyday, you missed him when he was not around.

Alright. I’m on my way, then.

Your tummy twisted in excitement. Already? I thought you were clocking off in two hours. You replied instantly.

The kettle went off with a soft click, exuding a thin column of vapor as you poured the boiling water into one of your favorite mugs. When you finished preparing your tea how you liked it, you turned to your screen, finding no reply from your boyfriend.

Maybe he is just messing with you. Yoon Jeonghan liked to do that.

But then, the smart-lock of the front door beeped, the handle turning, and you knew he was not messing with you. “Babe?” you called as you made your way to the entrance of your apartment.

“Yeah?”

You stopped cold at the sight you found. Joshua closed the door behind him, a sweet smile painting his lips as he took a step towards you. You watched him with your mouth hanging open, heartbeat racing frantically in surprise.

“Hi beautiful,” Joshua muttered, his gaze swimming on the features of your face, noticing that you were in a mild shock. “I’m here, baby.”

“You’re here,” you parroted shakily, eyes brimming with big hot tears. “Oh god. You’re here...”

His strong arms wrapped around you in a hug, quickly sweeping you off your feet. And you clung to his neck, holding onto him as though he were a dream and would go away at any given second.

“Surprise,” he muttered with a tiny voice, and that was when you noticed the slight quiver, the quiet sniffling when he buried his face in the crook of your neck.

“I missed you so much,” you muttered, bringing a hand to feel the back of his head, using your arms still around him to hug him tightly.

“I missed you too,” he muttered, his words muffled by your hair and your clothes, but you noticed even so, that his voice had thickened.  

“How are you here? I thought…” you trailed off. Jeonghan.

“I had a little help,” he replied, putting you back to the floor. “We wanted to give you a surprise.”

As you parted, you gaze fell on his features, marked by the weight of his tiredness. The color of his skin faded. The bags under his eyes were visible and darker like never before. But on top of that, the very air about him felt worn out, and on the brink of falling asleep at any given moment.

“Baby…” you whispered, your focus falling on his face, which you cupped with the palms of your hands. “Don’t you want to have a nap? You look exhausted.”

“I’m fine,” he frowned, his eyes shifting from your face to the rest of your body. “I just want to be with you. Jeonghan will be here soon too. We could go get dinner together or have something delivered.”

You knew Joshua well enough to know that he was trying to avoid something, and given the situation with the recent rumours surrounding you. Thinking that it was all too likely, you gave him a smile, grabbing his hand. “Come.”

He sighed but went with you either way. “Baby, I’m fine,” he insisted, and you knew by his tone alone that he was smiling. “I don’t need to sleep.”

“We’re not sleeping,” you turned so that he could see you grinning meaningfully at him.

Joshua giggled. “Ah, okay, okay,” he said, using his hand in yours to pull you closer to his body. “Come here, baby.”

You lead him to the bathroom, where you promptly started a shower, turning to him. “Let me take care of you, okay?” you asked sultrily, batting your eyelashes at him.

Joshua knew that there was more to your intentions with just one look. But his brain was so burned out that he could not figure out what you were planning, so he just nodded with his head, mouthing okay.

“You must be so exhausted, baby,” you sighed, toying with the buttons of his plaid shirt as you undid each one.

In no time, you were sliding the cotton fabric off his shoulders, moving to tug the belt of his black denims free. “I am,” he whispered, closing his eyes for a long pause. “So tired.”

“I’m going to take this off, okay?” you asked when he blindly stepped out of his jeans, feeling your fingers curling around the band of the waist band of his boxers.

“Okay,” he replied mechanically, reaching out to hold onto whatever part of your body he could find.

His hands found the curve of your waist, over the long t-shirt you wore. Thinking that he should reciprocate, his fists grabbed the t-shirt, hiking it up your torso and removing it with one motion.

Seeing you naked for the first time in what felt like ages was surreal to him. Even though he spent most of his nights looking at videos of you, to see you in real life was different. The camera could not capture your beautiful skin, or the beauty marks he loved so much.

“Let’s get you in,” you whispered, noticing the aloof look in his eyes.

“Are you going to shower with me?” he asked dumbly, letting you push him into the shower.

“Of course, silly goose,” you smiled at him sweetly, removing your panties before stepping with him. “I told you I’d take care of you, didn’t I?”

His heart swelled with so much love he was sure it would burst soon. “Yeah, you did,” he replied with a dazed smile, leaning his head to get his hair soaked with the warm stream of water.

“Good boy,” you whispered, grabbing the bottle of shampoo, sinking your fingers in his dark hair to wash it with slow motions.

He closed his eyes, deciding to give himself to you wholly. He was safe now, he was with you.

“I love you,” he shuddered. “I love you so much.”

His hands found your waist again, grabbing you as if to support himself.

“I love you too, baby,” you replied.

He opened his eyes again, afraid this would be another nightmare tormenting him with glimpses of you.

You saw something flash his dark eyes for a second before he eased back into the water when you rinsed his hair. Your hands were on him now, rubbing soap everywhere with ginger touches here and there.

“Hey,” you hummed. You were washing his torso, moving closer to him, his hands gripped your waist a little tighter, pressing your front to him, making you feel the firmness of his growing erection.

“Sorry, I can’t help it,” he let out a shy giggle, lowering his gaze to yours.

“I can,” you mumbled, sneaking a soapy hand between your bodies.

Joshua supressed a shudder when your fingers circled his hard shaft, stroking it idly as you watched him subdue himself to you. “Baby,” he groaned, dropping his forehead on yours. “God, I missed you so much,” he sighed raggedly.

“I missed you too, Josh,” you whispered, pumping him faster, adding more pressure to your grip on his shaft.

He pressed his face on yours, reaching your lips with his own with a tiny groan. “I don’t think I’ll last long,” he confessed with a sheepish look.

“It’s okay, baby. This is about you,” you hummed softly. “Let go for me, can you do that?”

He nodded with his head, clutching your waist tighter.

“Good boy,” you breathed. “Focus on me, baby. Do you like what I’m doing with my hands?” you pumped him faster, your fingers cupping his balls, massaging them.

“Yeah,” he shuddered hard against you, closing his eyes to savor the pleasure brimming inside him. “Please…”

“Let go,” you muttered. “Come for me, Josh.”

A strangled noise came out of his parted lips. Joshua stopped gripping you, his hand snapping to find the wall behind you, anchoring himself before he followed your command. The last thing he did to help himself reach his high was meeting your lips with a long, sloppy kiss, wet in drool and the water showering over you.

He groaned in your mouth as he came in your hand. You stopped pumping him once he finished spilling himself on your skin. “That’s it, that’s it, baby,” you whispered in praise. “How does that feel?”

“So good,” he blurted, sighing a euphoric feeling. “You don’t know how many times I wished to have your hand instead of mine,” he mumbled out the words swiftly. “I missed you so much, I need you with me.”

“I’m here, baby. I missed you too,” you said. “Let’s finish washing, okay?”

“Okay,” he said. “And then it’s your turn.”

You smiled. “I like the sound of that.”

You finished washing up thoroughly, and then as soon as you finished drying your skin Joshua pulled you in a hug, sweeping you off your feet and a second later, your body hit the mattress.

Joshua climbed on top of you, but before he could even lower his body on yours, you pushed him off, easily turning him over, his back pressed against the covers. On a usual night, that would have been impossible to achieve. But given that he was tired, he did not expect you to do that.

You straddled his waist while kissing him, his hands roamed all over your back, squeezing your skin, he hugged you as you pressed your chest against his.

The accumulated tiredness from the nights when Joshua could not sleep had started to reach a breaking point for him. You could feel it in his kisses, languid and messy. He groaned when you tried to break from him, urging you to keep going.

“Stubborn,” you whispered with a tiny smile, pushing his wet hair away from his forehead with your hand.

“You’re the stubborn one,” he replied with a gruff tone. “I’m fine.”

“Sleep, baby,” you paused, looking at his beautiful eyes. “We can do this in the morning.”

Joshua thought that your words might have magic in them because his will caved in a second. The heaviness in his limbs pushed him to nod his head in agreement. “Okay, okay,” he conceded. “But only if you stay here with me.”

“Of course, baby,” you giggled. “I don’t want to be anywhere else.”

You got under the covers, naked and hair still damp but you did not care at all. Once you were next to him, you intertwined your legs with his, lying your head on his chest as he hugged your body.

“Baby?” he blinked lazily.

“Yes, Josh?” you lifted your head to look at him.

“Don’t go anywhere,” he whispered, his eyelids falling heavily.

“I won’t,” you reassured him, caressing his cheek with gentle strokes. “I promise.”

He blinked one final time, and like a switch that went off, you saw the muscles of his face relax, falling asleep peacefully in your bed with you.

Some hours later, you moved from his embrace, lying in a normal position but still close to Joshua. You wanted to let him have a nice restoring sleep, so you thought of moving away from him a bit.

But his hands found you beneath the covers, tugging you closer, or hugging you back to him in his sleep. He was so deeply asleep that he did not hear the soft beeping of the smart lock, the door pushed open and then it closed with care.

Jeonghan’s steps were careful, probably intuiting that you were in the bedroom asleep. You saw his head peak in the doorframe of the bedroom, making you lift your hand to wave at him.

“Hi, baby,” he whispered, approaching the foot of the bed. “Am I interrupting?”

“No,” you patted your hand next to you, on the space that was left free.

“Okay,” he whispered, moving to the side.

Jeonghan paused before he went under the covers with you, finding you and Joshua utterly naked. “Tsk,” he clicked his tongue, suppressing a smile. “Couldn’t you wait for me?” he muttered teasingly.

“Shut up,” you reproached with a hushed tone. “Josh was tired, so he fell asleep before we could do anything,” you explained.

“I’m just playing, baby,” he smiled, his gaze finding Joshua. “Is everything okay?”

“Yeah,” you frowned, still caged by his heavy arms. “He was so tired. Couldn’t even speak straight.”

“So, what? Are we having a slumber party?” he grinned.

“Maybe,” you shrugged. “I don’t know if he’ll wake up right now.”

“We could order food if he does.”

“Okay,” you nodded.

“Okaaay,” he sighed, pulling out his phone and lowering the brightness of his screen before he dived in the food delivery app.

The dimmed white light coming from the screen illuminated his features, letting you see his perfectly cute nose, his beauty mark that sat on his cheek, his rosy lips, the lower tucked inside his mouth.

“What?” he noticed, directing a quick look at you.

“I’m just looking at your face,” you whispered.

“Is there something on it?” he asked, running his palm over his cheeks.

“No, you dummy,” you said. “I just missed your face.”

“You saw me this morning, princess,” he giggled goofily.

“You were supposed to say I missed your face too, princess,” you mimicked his tone to the best of your ability but failed miserably.

“But I didn’t miss you,” he said, trying to sound serious. “I just saw you this morning.”

“I take it back, I didn’t miss your face,” you pushed him away with a hand.

“Come here, you little crybaby,” he mumbled, grabbing your hand.

“You-mmf,” you were quickly shut up by his lips, sealed by his in a chaste kiss.

“What?” he dared, planting another kiss, then another.

“You fucking tease,” you muttered, pushing his face away from yours.

His mouth fell open in surprise. “Me?” he pointed a finger to his chest.

“Who else?” you hissed. “You’re so fucking annoying.”

“Oh, baby, you don’t even know,” he grinned darkly at you. “Now, why don’t you stay quiet for a minute? You’re going to wake him up,” he nodded at the man deeply asleep behind you.

You turned on the bed, lying on your back. Joshua’s arm hugged you just below your breasts, pulling you closer by instinct when you moved.

“So now you’re going to ignore me?” Jeonghan huffed a puffy air, clicking his tongue.

You stared at the ceiling, dead set on keeping your act up.

But you should have done better than playing with The Yoon Jeonghan.

At first, he just smirked, but as the seconds went by and you pretended to ignore him, the smile wore off. He propped his elbow on the pillow, leaning his head on his fist, intent on watching your face.

Then, he slid a hand on your tummy, he did nothing else with it, he just parked it there, his palm covering your belly button. You rejected his touch, but he caught sight of your eyelids fluttering slightly.

“Don’t ignore me,” he drew out the words with a low hum. He lifted his palm, but his fingers lingered on your skin, dragging the tips on your tummy in slow, gentle motions.

You said nothing, but as his fingers trailed on your lower abdomen, you swallowed hard. Jeonghan smiled, loving how well you responded to his touch. Your warm skin prickled, tingling at the wake of his fingertips drawing circles, going lower and lower.

“Baby, I’m sorry,” he pouted. “Did you get angry because I called you a crybaby?”

The tone he used was mocking you, but you could not pay attention to it. His fingers were so close to your mound that you felt the need to swallow back a moan, the strangled sound coiling in your throat drew his attention.

“What was that, baby?” he asked playfully.

Yanking your gaze from the ceiling, you met his, darkened by lust and mischief. The smirk that drew on his face was of silent victory.

“What, do you like this?” he motioned to his hand drawing lazy circles on your mound, his fingers grazing the line of your pussy lips. “Does this get you horny?

You blinked at him, parting your lips in desire but no words came out.

“I bet you’re wet already,” he whispered, a glint lighting up his dark eyes.

You moved your thighs ever so slightly, letting one finger between your pussy lips.

“God, baby, right next to Joshua?” he whispered, a devilish smirk curving his lips. “What is your boyfriend going to say if he wakes up?”

You said absolutely nothing, your eyelids fluttered when he ran the tip of his finger between your folds.

“So fucking wet,” he mumbled, more to himself than to you, as though he knew already that he would find your pussy sopping wet already. “Who would’ve thought that you’re such a slut?”

You gasped silently, drawing your eyebrows in. Jeonghan’s finger dipped in your core, his own mouth falling open when he sank one finger in, then another, playing with your wetness.

“Hear that?” he asked with a whisper, moving his fingers in and out of your wet pussy, creating a loud wet noise with each thrust.

In the past weeks, you had been having so much sex that your body was extra sensitive.

“Princess, you’re insatiable,” Jeonghan smiled, throwing a look at Joshua, who was still asleep. “Do you want more?”

Your gaze followed his, finding Joshua peacefully unaware that you were getting fingered by Jeonghan. You nodded.

“More?” Jeonghan confirmed. “More fingers?”

You shook your head silently.

“Mmn, princess, you’re going to wake Joshua up if I give you more,” he cooed softly, moving his fingers inside you, massaging your walls. He pulled them out, driving the pads of his fingers to your clit, which was already swollen with arousal.

You flinched slightly under Joshua’s embrace when Jeonghan’s fingertips started moving on your clit. You locked your gaze on Jeonghan, silently pleading for more.

Jeonghan took the challenge, stopping the motion of his fingers on you and sank under the covers, carefully placing himself between your legs without disrupting Joshua’s sleep. You closed your eyes, feeling his hands on your inner thighs, spreading your pussy lips for his mouth.

The first lick set your body ablaze. You tensed up, gritting your teeth as Jeonghan ran his tongue flatly on your folds, licking your juices up, kissing your clit slowly.

As soon as your back stirred on the mattress, Joshua moved. He hummed softly, making your tummy twist, a hand flying to find Jeonghan’s head, but the man did take the hint, or if he did, he did not give a fuck.

Jeonghan continued giving your pussy broad strokes with his tongue, not caring of the wet sounds he was making.

“Mmn,” Joshua pressed his face on your pillow finding your cheek, which he kissed softly.

“Josh,” you mumbled, the sound whiny, making it obvious that you were aroused.

Jeonghan pushed his hands on your inner thighs, spreading you more to dip his tongue inside you with a low groan.

“What’s ha–,” Joshua lifted his head from your pillow, spotting the bulge beneath the covers, between your legs.

“Baby,” you sighed a moan.

Joshua watched the body beneath the covers for a few seconds, confusedly finding your face. The last traces of slumber left him, coming alive with a slow smirk drawing on his face. He pushed the covers off, uncovering your body, and Jeonghan between your legs, eating you out. “Couldn’t you wait for me?”

You let out a lazy giggle, finding it amusing that Jeonghan had said the same thing half an hour before. “Wanna join?” you asked with a sweet hum, raking your fingertips through Jeonghan’s scalp.

Joshua propped his body on one elbow, lying back to watch Jeonghan working on your pussy. “How do you want me to join in?” he asked, his voice still gruff and lazy.

“Kiss me?” you asked with a sweet tone.

The man obeyed without a second thought, bringing a hand to cup your face, kissing you gently. Jeonghan grabbed your legs, hiking them on his shoulders, dipping two fingers back into your pussy, and kissing your clit with his mouth.

You moaned in Joshua’s mouth, his hands cupping your breasts, fingers pinching and tugging your nipples.

“You’re close, baby?” Joshua asked, enjoying the sound so much he felt himself growing hard.  

“I want more,” you gasped.

Joshua smirked, dipping his head over your chest, trapping one of your nipples in his mouth, teasing it with his tongue.

“God!” you squealed, hands busy grabbing both Jeonghan and Joshua’s hair. Your thighs tensed more in pleasure, drawing out a long moan as one of your boyfriends licked and kissed your nipples, and the other your clit.

“I’m coming,” you sighed, closing your eyes in bliss. “God, god, god, I’m close, I’m close!” you let out a strangled sound, jaw going slack as you climaxed below Jeonghan and Joshua, neither slowing down nor stopping.

You thrashed, moaned, and cried out each of their names lewdly until you were breathless, teary-eyed, and limp on the mattress.

“God… that was…” you sighed, smiling as you relished in the aftershocks of your orgasm.

They both lifted their heads from your body at the same time. Jeonghan ran the back of his hand over his chin, wiping away your arousal and his own spit, while Joshua acted on impulse, grabbing Jeonghan's hand and sticking his fingers in his mouth to lick the taste of you.

Jeonghan looked startled for a second, his eyes widening and lips parting. But he shook it off quickly, letting Joshua lick off your wetness. The sight was so arousing, that a moan coiled in your throat.

“Princess likes that, huh?” Jeonghan asked Joshua, pulling out his fingers from the warmth of his mouth.

“Did you like that, baby?” Joshua asked, his studded eyebrow twitching up.

“Yeah,” you sighed, smiling shyly when the sound came out more like a moan than anything else.

Jeonghan had a question etched in his eyes that only Joshua could see. But he ignored it, trying to get a hold of himself before he did more impulsive things.

“What do you want, princess?” Jeonghan asked, noticing the dazed expression on your face.

“I want you both. At the same time. You on top,” you pointed at Jeonghan, then to Joshua. “And you below me.”

“Tsk,” Jeonghan smirked, nodding his head in amazement.

But he climbed off the bed as he took his clothes off, opening the first drawer of your closet. As Jeonghan got what he needed from the drawer, he thought of the brief exchange he had with Joshua, deciding to push it far away in his mind for now. But he could not ignore, that he had liked it.

You rose to your knees, circling Joshua’s neck with your hands to bring him to your face, pressing a warm kiss in his mouth. “I liked that,” you whispered, referring to Joshua licking Jeonghan’s fingers.

“I know,” he husked with a half-smile. “I can tell.”

Jeonghan returned with a bottle of lube, and one condom, patting the edge of the bed he motioned you over. “I want you here, Princess,” he told you.

You crawled over to him, sitting back on your heels in front of him.

Jeonghan cupped the side of your head, tangling his fingers in your hair, and pressing a small kiss on your lower lip. “Be good for us,” he whispered.

“Always, Hannie,” you smiled.

“Mmn,” he hummed, keeping his quippy retort behind his grin. “Turn around and get on all fours, baby.”

You obeyed at once, getting on your hands and knees, ass to him. Jeonghan started littering your skin with kisses, his hands caressing your ass. Joshua watched quietly, one corner of his lips twitching when Jeonghan sneaked another glance his way.

“Come here, handsome,” you muttered lovingly, extending a hand to clutch his hip. Joshua was hard again, tip leaking with precum.

Joshua mimicked Jeonghan’s previous movements, cupping your face in his large hand. “Want to take me in your mouth, baby?” he taunted, reading your face.  

“Yeah?” you lifted your pretty eyes to his face.

“Open your mouth,” he whispered, swallowing hard when you obediently parted your lips for him.

A moan vibrated around his cock, Jeonghan kissed your pussy one more time, making your whole body jolt in surprise. “Easy, baby,” he giggled.

Jeonghan closed his eyes, running the tip of his tongue between your folds, licking up your pussy to the rim of your ass, kissing, humming against your skin.

The room grew quiet in a matter of seconds.

Joshua’s head hung back slightly, sighing out in pleasure as you sucked him off eagerly. Your tongue swirled on his cockhead, hollowing out your cheeks every time you pulled back on him. He opened his eyes, his gaze falling on Jeonghan instinctively.

Joshua’s heart nearly jumped out of his chest to find Jeonghan’s eyes on him as he licked your puckered hole, a hand stroking his hard cock idly.

“God,” Joshua exhaled, closing his eyes again. You moaned around him, his hand gripping your hair right before he pulled out his cock out of your mouth with a loud groan.

He threw back his head, eyes focused on the ceiling, panting.

“Josh?” you called.

“Give me a second,” Joshua laughed languidly.

Jeonghan masked his giggle with a low hum, pulling back his mouth from your puckered hole to press the tip of his pointer finger, making you moan. “Joshuji is just out of his game, baby,” he cooed.

“Shut up,” Joshua groaned, chest heaving. “I’m not.”

“Alright, then, what is it?” Jeonghan challenged. There was no smile curling his lips, Joshua found in Jeonghan’s eyes pure curiosity.

Joshua bore into him with his dark gaze. “Not now,” he warned with a cold tone.

“There is nothing wrong with admitting that you’re a quick nut,” Jeonghan stated boldly, knowing that his crude vocabulary would rattle him. “Baby will understand, right?”

“Jeonghan, why don’t you occupy your mouth again and shut the fuck up?”

“Did I hurt your feelings, altar boy?” Jeonghan tilted his head to one side, pushing another finger inside you.

“Both of you,” you groaned, torn between the fight happening and Jeonghan’s fingers in your ass. “Shut up,” you deadpanned.

“Are you ready, baby?” Jeonghan asked, spreading his fingers inside you.

“Yeah, I think I am,” you choked out.

“Get on top of Shuji, baby,” Jeonghan patted your ass lovingly.

Joshua got to the center of the bed, laying back as you crawled back to him, straddling him. He grabbed your head with his large hands, pulling you into a long, wet kiss.

You placed your forearms on the pillows, framing his head.

Jeonghan grabbed your hips roughly, lifting one hand, and bringing it down on your ass firmly. You yelped, breaking your kiss with Joshua abruptly.

Joshua smiled at you. “Someone’s jealous,” he teased, grabbing your chin with two fingers to continue kissing you.

“Tsk, jealous,” Jeonghan huffed. “Ready?”

You turned to see him, giving him a short nod.

Jeonghan rolled up the condom down his shaft, spreading the lube in both him and your hole. “You know what to do, princess.”

“Yes, Hannie,” you replied, arching your back to him.

“Good girl,” he sighed, pressing the tip of his cock in your hole, pushing one inch inside you.

“God,” you gasped, hiding your face in the crook of Joshua’s neck.

Joshua caressed your back, his fingers drawing a line down your column before he grabbed your ass, spreading you open for Jeonghan. “You’re good, baby,” he whispered, looking at Jeonghan as he sank another inch in.

Your fingers curled on the pillowcases. “Josh…” you cried out, Jeonghan’s cock filling you up a little bit more.

Jeonghan blinked lazily, biting his lip hard as he pulled back, to sink back inside you, pushing a few more inches in.

“Take it, baby,” Joshua husked, his fingers pressing the skin of your ass, still helping spread you open.

“Fuck,” Jeonghan gritted, nearly bottoming out inside you. “I’m gonna start moving,” he drawled.

“Yeah, yes, please,” you cried out, the sound muffled on Joshua’s neck.

Joshua shuddered, your breath fanning on his skin. “Can you take me, baby?” he asked.

“Mm-mmph,” you moved your head, to meet his lips with yours. “Please, Josh.”

“Hurry,” Jeonghan groaned, giving you shallow thrusts.

Joshua thought of saying something quippy.

But you sent him a look. “Don’t,” you huffed. You grabbed his cock, guiding it to your pussy.

“Okay,” Joshua whispered, suppressing a smile. He started thrusting in his cock, pushing his hips up to meet yours.

Jeonghan moaned, leaning his body forward, pushing you over too. “Fuck, god, fuuuuck,” he groaned, leaning his forehead on your nape. “Baby, you feel so good.”

The lewd sound of Jeonghan’s voice elicited a moan from Joshua. Pushing his cock faster inside you, he could feel Jeonghan’s cock inside you, moving in perfect synchronicity with his own.

Jeonghan was fully fucking you doggy style, leaning over your body as Joshua fucked into you. He pressed a hand on the pillow, the other gripping your hip, brushing against Joshua’s fingers.

“Baby,” Joshua called your name, noticing your features lost in pleasure. “You’re there?”

“Yeah,” you replied aloofly. “I’m close, babe. I’m so close…”

“Come for me,” Jeonghan choked out, squeezing his eyes shut.

“No, not yet,” Joshua gasped, fucking into you faster. Sweat sticking to his skin, making a wet sound every time he met his hips with yours. “Wait for me, baby.”

“I can’t,” you whispered, your limbs starting to shake. “I’m there, Josh. Please… let me come.”

Jeonghan let out a ragged groan. “Come, baby, please come,” he begged, swallowing hard, pushing inside you desperately now.

Just by the sounds alone, Joshua knew his best friend was near his release. He watched as Jeonghan nipped and kissed your shoulder, eyes closed as if though he feared opening them, as though he knew Joshua would be looking.

You cried out a whiny moan. “Joshua, Joshua…” you sighed, writhing as your orgasm washed over you, teary-eyed and completely fucked out.

“Fuck, princess,” Jeonghan gasped, his thrusts slowing down as you squeezed on both men inside you.

Joshua gripped your hips tighter as he moved his lazily. “God,” he blurted as he saw you and Jeonghan come together just like in all of those videos. You squeezed around him, and he could feel Jeonghan’s cock nudged inside you, pressing against his.

You fell on top of him, walls throbbing around his cock as he spilled inside you with a blissful sigh.

Then Jeonghan fell on top of you, pulling out of you and resting his head on the pillow, beside Joshua’s head.

Joshua groaned under the weight of both your body and now Jeonghan’s. But you giggled sweetly, resting your head on the other pillow, to the other side of Jeonghan.

Joshua stared at the ceiling again, breathing hard and erratically from the exhaustion and pleasure still coursing through him. But he dared to move his face, turning it to Jeonghan to see if his best friend was awake.  

With just one look, Joshua knew that Jeonghan had a million questions to ask. His eyes bore into Joshua’s, his face so close they could feel each other’s breaths.

Joshua wondered for a second if Jeonghan’s lips were as soft as yours. A thought that almost sent him into a frenzy.

“What?” Jeonghan breathed, noticing the change in Joshua’s eyes.

“Get off me,” Joshua gritted.

“Ask nicely.”

“Get the fuck off me,” Joshua demanded, but a giggle sneaked through his command.

“Alright, alright,” Jeonghan groaned, pushing himself off you and Joshua.

You, on the other hand, were still lost in the gentle aftershocks of your orgasm. Breathing softly on the curve of Joshua’s neck.

“We should clean up,” you said, promptly lifting your hips off his.

“Wait–,” Joshua gasped, but it was too late. Cum dripped out of you, spilling all over Joshua, and your inner thighs.

You stared at the mess for a long second.

“Tsk,” Jeonghan returned to the bedroom. “Someone has to clean that up now,” he said, lying down on the bed, next to Joshua.

Before Joshua could even say anything, you understood what Jeonghan meant immediately, leaning down to his crotch, running your tongue on his lower abdomen.

“Fuck,” Joshua gritted when you licked his cum from his skin, the act so hot he felt himself grow hard again. “Fuck, baby,” he rolled his eyes to the ceiling, trying to calm himself down.

“Lie down, princess, Jeonghan commanded when you finished cleaning up Joshua’s lower tummy.

You lied back on the bed as he got to his knees, sending a look at Joshua as Jeonghan licked the cum from your inner thighs, eliciting a lazy moan from you.

Joshua felt even more confused than before but kept watching the whole exchange, unable to yank his gaze from it.

You smiled at Jeonghan, right before he dived for a kiss, his tongue rolling inside your mouth with a raspy groan. You cupped his head moaning lewdly in his mouth.

“Come on, let’s wash up, baby,” Jeonghan whispered, patting your thigh once before pulling away from you, but not before glancing Joshua’s way.

You crawled up to him, a playful smile on your face. “You there?” you cooed. “Let’s go,” you whispered.

Snapping from a trance, he grabbed your face, placing a rushed kiss in your lips, tasting his cum in the process. “That was so hot,” he hissed.

“Did you like that, babe?” you asked sultrily, reading his face.

“Yeah,” he croaked.

You smiled mischievously, grabbing his hand. “Come on, baby boy, let’s wash again.”

And with that, Joshua knew there was no right or wrong answer to the turbulent confusion inside him, he had to roll with it.

The following morning, Joshua stretched out his arm beneath the bedsheets, humming blissfully once he found your body to wrap in an embrace.

“Morning, babe,” you whispered.

He opened his eyes to see your face, planting a sleepy kiss on your lips. “G’morning,” he whispered.

Jeonghan looked at both of you, his phone in his hands. “Don’t I get a morning kiss?”

The question made Joshua’s heart jolt nervously. But understanding that the question was directed at you, he rolled his eyes.

However, you smiled, moving to place a sweet kiss on Jeonghan’s lips. “Good morning, Hannie,” you mumbled.

“Morning,” he replied with a flat tone.

“You’re a bit grumpy since last night,” you pointed. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” Jeonghan said, shaking his head slightly. “I should go now. Got to go to the bar to drop some payments and–,” he paused. “Is your thing with Yena still up for tonight?”

Joshua arched one eyebrow.

“Yeah, but Josh will drive me there. Don’t worry,” you looked at him.

“I’ll drive you,” he nodded dumbly. “Where?”

“I have a date with Yena. We’re grabbing dinner, we’ll talk about my anonymity and see what we could do market wise,” you explained, pinching his chin with your fingers.

“Okay,” Joshua reassured. “I’ll drive you.”

“Alright,” Jeonghan sighed, leaning over to place a loving kiss on your forehead. “I love you,” he mumbled right before kissing your lips sweetly.

Joshua’s heart gave another leap. The smile that painted your face was so sweet, he had only seen it on you whenever you were with him.

“I love you, grumpy,” you replied teasingly.

“Shut up,” he sighed a smile, kissing you one more time before he pulled back. “Bye, Joshuji,” he waved, much as if he could not walk out without saying goodbye to him.

“Bye, Jeonghannie.”

Joshua sat on the pilot’s seat of his van, waiting. One hand supporting his head, the other gripping the steering wheel tightly.

He wished he could say that he eased part of the questions that made his head uneasy. But in truth, he felt even more confused. The easy way out of this, was to just let whatever he felt flow.

But then, he needed to talk it out with you. And Jeonghan.

Frustrated, he sighed. He didn’t know what he was expecting when he returned home. He so desperately wanted to go back to the quiet life, that he forgot that time also moved for you, and things changed.

Your life was also becoming less quiet.

Was this his doing?

You opened the door to the copilot’s seat of his van. “Sorry, sorry,” you mumbled.

“Ready?” he turned the key, igniting the engine.

“Yeah, I’m sorry,” you repeated.

“It’s okay, baby,” he replied dryly. “Bringing everything this time?”

“Yeah, I triple-checked,” you looked down to your lap, shamefully. “I keep forgetting my phone everywhere.”

“Did you book a table?” Joshua asked, eyeing you as he drove through the city.

“Yeah, but Yen’s already waiting for me.”

“Mm,” Joshua nodded.

You raised your eyebrows. “Are you mad at me, Josh?” you asked, and without skipping a second, you added: “I’m sorry, I–,”

“I’m not mad,” he said flatly.

A long silence was drawn between you, tension building as the seconds passed.

“Okay, tell me what’s wrong then,” you said with a serious tone, trying to look at his face, but he just kept avoiding your eyes.

“Nothing. Nothing’s wrong,” he mumbled.

“Don’t do that,” you snapped. “Don’t do this.”

“Do what?” he finally looked at you, but the glance was short.

“You’re avoiding something,” you pointed. “I know you, Josh. There is something bothering you.”

“I don’t want to talk about it right now,” he shook his head, pulling up. He raised his eyebrows. “We’re here.”

It took you a second to understand that he had parked the car in front of the restaurant you were going to meet with Yena. You searched his dark eyes, heart dropping to your stomach when you saw how dead they looked.

“I’m thinking of quitting the band,” Joshua mumbled, the weight of his confession making him drive his gaze elsewhere.

“You’re not serious,” you whispered.

“I am,” he looked at you again. “I’m done. I can’t do this anymore.”

You leaned your head to one side, eyes glinting with pity. “Baby, you’re just tired. Don’t say things like this, think it over when you’re well rested.”

“I don’t need to think things over,” he spat, shaking his head in frustration. “I want out. I don’t want any of this.”

As soon as he blurted the words, Joshua wanted to take them back. He looked at you remorsefully, opening his mouth to apologize but you stopped him, raising a palm to him.

“I’m going to ignore this moment happened… and when I come back, you and I are going to talk about this. So think carefully about how you speak to me next time.”

Then you exited the car, slamming the door behind you.

Joshua stood in front of the walled rooftop.

This used to be the place where you would come to ponder about whatever occupied your mind the most. The night Joshua followed you here, he found you in the same spot he was standing in; but you were leaning your head on the brim of the ledge, following the buzz of the busy city as some kind of a lullaby.

Some nights, Joshua would wake up to find your spot of the bed empty, and he know he would find you here, trying to solve whatever plot point you were stuck in. But some nights he would also find you here when you were running away from conflict, running away from him.

He brought a hand to rub his chest absentmindedly, trying to easy the heaviness coiling around his heart.

The sound coming from the rusty hinges of the door leading back into the building rattled him, making him turn around, somehow expecting to see you.

Jeonghan closed the door behind him, crossing his arms as he walked tentatively towards Joshua. “How long have you been here?” he asked. 

Joshua shook his head in reprehension. “If you’re here to play the mediator, just telling you now, I don’t want to hear it,” he turned over again, facing the city lights again. “I know I did wrong.”

“I’m not here to play mediator,” Jeonghan said quietly once he reached Joshua’s side, leaning his forearms on the brim of the ledge. “I’ve been looking for you. You’re not picking up the phone.”

“Did you… talk to Bunny?” Joshua asked, avoiding his best friend’s scrutiny. But it was quite unavoidable, he could feel his eyes piercing him.

“Yeah, I did,” he replied, finally yanking his gaze away from him and directing it towards the sunset.

Joshua expected him to say something else, something about the conversation between Jeonghan and you. But when he stayed quiet about it, Joshua felt even worse. He brought his hands to his face, rubbing his eyes harshly to avoid succumbing to pure madness.

“I’m sorry, I’ll talk to her when she gets back,” he mumbled, his voice muffling in his hands. He lifted his head blinking the quiet rage stinging his eyes and sent a shameful look to his best friend.

“She’s already here,” Jeonghan informed with a solemn expression. “She called me.”

Joshua could not stop himself from feeling resentful that you had called Jeonghan to pick you up instead of him. But even he would admit that it was deserved.

The serenity he found in Jeonghan’s gaze was perplexing. “What happened?” he asked with caution.

Joshua took pause, assuming that you might have just told him in brief what happened. “I told her I’m thinking of quitting the band. We had an argument. I shouldn’t have exploded like that, but the truth is… I’m exhausted. I don’t want this anymore,” he rasped with a nasty feeling making his face twist.

“Are you really quitting?” Jeonghan seemed unfazed by this turn of events.

“I don’t know,” he sighed, clasping his hands together as he lowered his head. “I knew what I was getting myself into when I agreed to sign for the label but… I never wanted this.”

“What is it that you hate so much about this?” he frowned with clear confusion rising in his tone. “Can’t you just admit publicly that she’s your girlfriend? Forget about me, or how I’d feel, you would have one thing less to worry about. Two, actually.”

Joshua turned to his best friend, processing his words over and over in his head, all the while scanning his features, finding nothing but quiet resolution. “You’re insane,” he realized. “You can’t say that. After all the shit that we went through to get here you can’t just decide to leave.”

Crossing his arms still, Jeonghan shrugged. “Well it can’t be that bad, right? I could just remain in the background or leave completely. I’m just saying, we can come up with some story to make all of this go away.”

“No,” he negated with his head. “No, I don’t want you to leave. And I’m pretty sure Bunny doesn’t want that either.”

Jeonghan said nothing at first, but Joshua could tell the severity of his entire demeanor had an underlying reason. “I don’t want to leave either, you know that. But I look at yourself. I can’t stand looking at you like this,” Jeonghan admitted. “I tried to warn you, Shuji. You can’t make yourself happy by making everyone happy.”

The perplexing feeling sunk deeper within him. The only reaction Joshua could muster was a hollow laugh that went on until he thought this was what insanity felt like.

Jeonghan’s gaze turned to worry, his eyebrows pinching together.

“This is so fucked up,” Joshua muttered to himself, dropping his face back onto his hands and muffled a long sigh. “I’m so fucked.”

“If this is putting you in this state then we should call the polycule off,” he heard Jeonghan’s quiet tone try to bring some sense into this. “You can go back to your life before all of this, I’ll be fine.”

It seemed astounding to Joshua that his best friend would be up to do that if that made Joshua happy, even though that would mean walking away from you again. It had been so long since Jeonghan and him had a heart-to-heart, that they have missed out on so much. Joshua could easily assume what has happened in the time he been away.

But Jeonghan had no idea about what he has come to find out about himself.

“I can’t do this right now, Jeonghan,” Joshua decided, casting one look at Jeonghan’s face, and turned away from him, walking towards the door. “I’m not ready to talk about this.”

Joshua thought of what he would say to you as he crossed the rooftop, dragging his feet with heavy reluctance. He would undoubtedly apologize to you and tell you what was going on inside his head.

He did not want to walk away from his band, that was something he had said crassly, without really weighing how alarming that sounded given the state that he was in. He needed to sleep. He needed to think. He needed to—

“Stop hurting her, you fucking coward!” Jeonghan’s complaint resounded across the space between them, making Joshua stop dead in his tracks.

“What?” he blurted, turning around to see him approaching with an angry step.

“You always do this,” Jeonghan’s face twisted in annoyance, his brow furrowing as he lifted one finger to point at Joshua’s face. “You said you wouldn’t do this again. You lie and bottle up your feelings until it’s everyone’s problem!”

“I just said I can’t do this right now,” Joshua gritted.

But that just proved Jeonghan’s point. “The only time you can do it is when you blow up!” he accused. “How fucking hard can it be to just say what you truly think and feel?” he exasperatedly threw his hands at his sides.

“Like you say what you truly think and feel?” Joshua rolled his eyes in an irked way.

“What the hell are you talking about?” he demanded, dropping his hand on his side.

“We’ll talk about this later, Jeonghan,” he huffed, motioning to the door again.

“What do you want me to say? I’ll tell you right now,” he challenged, his chest falling and rising rapidly.

Joshua bit his tongue. His first instinct was to try and opt out of the conversation again, try and buy as much time as possible to figure out his feelings, to solve the itching confusion in his heart.

But as he faced his best friend, his resolve became clearer. He did not need to send any more tentative glances at him or wonder to himself any further. Jeonghan’s eyes kept reading his face over and over, just as Joshua drifted towards his lips, and then his eyes. 

“What?” Jeonghan’s brow furrowed deeper, the annoyance in his demeanor died down and swiftly turned into genuine bewilderment.

Joshua thought for a second that whatever emotion showed on his face made his intentions clear. “Jeonghan,” he breathed.

His brow finally relaxed; his eyes widening in wordless realization. “Joshua?”

A large hand grabbed the collar of Jeonghan’s hoodie, giving it a firm tug. Their chests clashed together, knocking the air out of their lungs. Joshua paused, giving Jeonghan a moment to back away, to put a stop on this before it was too late.

Jeonghan’s breath hitched, but no words came out of his parted lips.

An overwhelming fluttering invaded Joshua’s chest. His free hand cupped the back of his head, tangling his fingers on the long dark hair. They both looked at each other as they leaned closer, and closer. Jeonghan closed his eyes, so Joshua decided to do the same until their lips met in a slow, tentative kiss.

✮ author's note: hellooooooo,

here it is! slightly late but here it's the first part to my hannieween fest/kinktober celebration. i hope you liked it 🙂‍↕️

i am so excited for you guys to read the next chapter to lights out!! i am actually very excited to know what you think of this one. it took me some time to finish writing it because i have so many projects at the moment!

but here it is hehe. i'm happy.

✮ STAY TUNED FOR CHAPTER SIX!! ✮

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[faebled-stories]

Symphony of Release

Kinkvember Day 27: Sex Dungeon

NingNing (Ning Yizhuo) Giselle (Uchinaga Aeri) Aespa X Male reader

AN: I know I keep saying, "This fic is my longest yet," but this time, I really mean it😅. This one is officially my longest, and my brain feels like total mush after putting it all together. There’s no way I’m writing this much in one day again. I know this is later than my normal post time but I hope you guys understand💖

P.S. It's 25k words. 😭

It was nearing midnight when Minjeong stumbled through the front door of the apartment. The soft click of the lock echoed through the quiet room, startling Karina from where she sat curled on the couch. A tub of ice cream balanced precariously on her knees, its smooth surface beginning to melt around the edges. Giselle, cross-legged on the floor amid a sea of folded laundry, glanced up sharply, her hands pausing mid-motion as she folded a pair of socks. Across the room, Ningning stirred from the cocoon of her blanket on the recliner, her hand hovering over the remote as she paused the neon-lit drama flashing across the TV. One by one, their gazes shifted to Minjeong.

Minjeong froze, her silhouette framed by the faint glow of the hallway light. Her hair was a mess, clinging in damp strands to her flushed forehead, and her cheeks burned with the deep pink of exertion—or something else entirely. She had clearly tried to pull herself together: her oversized sweater was hastily tugged on, the hem uneven and bunched at her side, while her face shone with the telltale dampness of a rushed wash. And yet, beneath the soap-and-water effort, an unmistakable, musky undertone lingered in the air, faint but inescapable. It clung to her skin like a whisper of the night she was trying to forget—or avoid acknowledging.

Her knuckles whitened as she gripped the strap of her bag, frozen like a deer caught in headlights under their collective stares.

“Um… hey,” she croaked, her voice cracking awkwardly. “I didn’t think you’d all still be… awake.”

Karina arched an eyebrow, her lips curling around the spoon in her hand with theatrical slowness. She withdrew it with a soft click, letting the ice cream linger on her tongue before speaking. “That’s all you’ve got? You look like you got caught in a windstorm… and something else.” She sniffed the air, her expression twisting with amused disbelief. “Oh my God. Are you serious right now?”

Minjeong’s face turned scarlet, her eyes darting anywhere but at her roommates. The silence grew louder, the ticking of the wall clock amplifying her discomfort. She took a small step toward her bedroom, her sneakers squeaking faintly against the polished floorboards.

“I’m just… really tired. Long night,” she mumbled, clutching her bag like a shield.

“Uh-uh. No way,” Giselle interjected, rising to her feet in a single, fluid motion. She crossed her arms, her stance firm and unyielding as she fixed Minjeong with a sharp look. “We’re not letting this one slide. What’s going on with you lately? You’ve been sneaking out every other night, coming home late, and looking like… this.”

“Like what?” Minjeong snapped, her voice a touch too defensive to sell the indifference she was aiming for.

“Like someone who’s been thoroughly…” Ningning hesitated, her cheeks blooming pink as she struggled to find the words. “…Thoroughly.”

Karina exploded into laughter, doubling over as she nearly sent the tub of ice cream tumbling onto the floor. “Oh my God, Ning. Just say it! She looks like someone who got wrecked.”

“Stop!” Minjeong practically squeaked, her panic sharpening the edges of her voice. “It’s not—it’s not what you think.”

Karina leaned forward, her grin widening like a cat that had cornered its prey. “Oh, it’s exactly what I think. So, who is it? Secret boyfriend? Hookup? Don’t be shy. Spill!”

“It’s no one!” Minjeong blurted, clutching her bag tighter as if it could somehow ward off the interrogation. “I’m not seeing anyone.”

“Then where are you going?” Giselle asked, her skepticism practically vibrating in the air. “Because whatever you’re doing, you smell like…” She wrinkled her nose dramatically. “…like you’ve been doing something.”

“It’s not a big deal,” Minjeong muttered, her voice barely above a whisper as she edged closer to her bedroom door. “It’s just… personal.”

Karina tilted her head, her playful grin taking on an edge of genuine curiosity. “Personal? Okay, now I really want to know. You can’t just say that and expect us to drop it.”

Ningning shifted under her blanket, her eyes darting between her friends. “I mean… we’re all thinking about it, right? Where she’d been going, coming back like this?”

Minjeong groaned, the sound low and drawn out, her head dropping slightly as if surrendering to an invisible weight. “You’re not going to let this go, are you?”

“Nope,” they chorused, their voices a mix of teasing and determination.

She sighed heavily, her shoulders slumping under the weight of the inevitable. “Fine,” she muttered, her tone a mix of exasperation and resignation. “There’s this… place I’ve been going to.”

Karina leaned forward, her curiosity evident as she tilted her head. “What kind of place?”

Minjeong hesitated, her lips pressing into a thin line before she finally replied. “It’s hard to explain. It doesn’t really have a name. It’s just… a space where people can explore things.”

“What kind of ‘things’?” Giselle asked, narrowing her eyes as suspicion flickered in her expression.

Minjeong’s cheeks flamed, her voice rushing out before she could stop herself. “Intimacy. It’s private. Safe. They have different rooms where you can try things, or watch, or… whatever.”

The room fell into stunned silence, the weight of her words hanging heavy in the air. Only the faint hum of the paused TV broke the stillness.

“So… like a sex club?” Ningning finally asked, her tone carrying equal parts shock and intrigue.

“It’s not a club,” Minjeong snapped, defensive as her eyes darted between them. “It’s professional. It’s about curiosity and connection. It’s not some sketchy hookup scene.”

Karina raised an eyebrow, her tone thoughtful rather than critical. “How do you even know about this place?”

Minjeong sighed, brushing her damp bangs back from her forehead. “Yunjin told me about it. It’s run by the same people who own that other place—you know, the one with the glory hole.”

Ningning’s jaw dropped, her eyes wide as she stared at Minjeong. “Wait, wait, wait. Are you serious? That place Yunjin described? With the creepy wooden wall and the literal hole?”

“It’s not creepy!” Minjeong snapped, rolling her eyes. “It’s supposed to be like that—it’s the vibe. They keep it simple because it adds to the ambience or whatever.”

Karina nodded, her expression thoughtful. “Like, the mystery of it, right? That kind of makes sense.”

“Exactly,” Minjeong said, relieved at Karina’s understanding. “But this place is nothing like that. It’s completely different. It’s modern, sleek, and everything is super private and professional. It’s all about creating a safe space for people to explore.”

Giselle tilted her head, her skepticism softening slightly. “So, it’s more like… a curated experience?”

Minjeong nodded. “Yes, exactly. It’s not shady or anything. It’s designed for people who are curious and want to try new things in a safe way.”

Karina grinned, leaning back on the couch. “Honestly, that sounds kind of amazing. I can see why you’ve been sneaking out.”

“Thank you,” Minjeong muttered, her tone softening as she shot Karina a small look of gratitude. “At least someone gets it.”

Ningning still looked flustered, her face partially hidden in her hands. “I just… I can’t believe this is a thing. Like, you’re just casually going to places like this?”

Minjeong crossed her arms, her voice sharp with exasperation. “Yes, because it’s not some back-alley setup, okay? It’s intentional, it’s safe, and it’s… honestly kind of amazing.”

Karina smirked, giving Ningning a pointed look. “You’re acting like you don’t swipe right on every guy with a dog in his profile. At least Minjeong knows what she’s walking into.”

“Hey!” Ningning shot back, her face red as Karina and Giselle burst into laughter.

Minjeong sighed dramatically, heading toward her room. “I’m going to shower. Can we talk about literally anything else when I get back?”

Karina leaned back, her grin undiminished. “We’ll see. You know we’re going to have more questions.”

Minjeong didn’t reply, disappearing into her room and shutting the door firmly behind her. The faint sound of the shower starting echoed through the apartment, the steady stream of water the only noise in the tense stillness left behind.

The three left in the living room exchanged glances.

“I cannot believe this,” Ningning muttered, pulling her blanket tighter around herself as if warding off the thought. “She’s seriously sneaking off to places like that?”

“I don’t know,” Giselle said, her frown deepening. “It still sounds kind of sketchy. Who even runs something like that?”

“I can think of a few reasons,” Karina quipped, her mischievous grin practically glowing. “Honestly, it sounds incredible. I bet she’s having the time of her life.”

“She looks like she’s been dragged through a hedge backwards,” Ningning countered, shaking her head. “That doesn’t exactly scream ‘fun’ to me.”

Karina shrugged, unbothered. “Maybe she’s just… exploring. Who knows? I, for one, think it sounds hot.”

When Minjeong finally emerged from her room, her hair damp and clinging to her cheeks in soft strands, she was dressed in a loose hoodie and sweatpants, her posture stiff with hesitation. She stopped short when she saw them still sitting there, their expressions practically crackling with anticipation. Their eyes glittered, waiting for her to speak as if the show was about to start.

“No,” she said immediately, raising a hand in protest. “I told you, I’m done talking about it.”

“Come on,” Karina said, leaning forward with an easy grin. “You can’t just drop something like that and leave us hanging. We need to know more.”

“Yeah,” Ningning added, though her tone was more cautious. “What do you even do there?”

Minjeong hesitated, her gaze falling to the floor as heat rushed to her face. Her hands balled into small fists at her sides, her discomfort obvious. “It’s… complicated,” she said softly, avoiding their eyes.

“Then explain it,” Karina said, her tone gentle but persistent.

Minjeong sighed heavily, her shoulders slumping in defeat. Crossing her arms, she leaned against the doorframe and spoke slowly. “A while ago, I read this… book. It had a scene where the character…” She trailed off, her face turning bright red as her voice dropped to a near-whisper. “...she, um, she… squirted” she pressed her lips together, wishing the floor would swallow her whole. 

The room went silent, her words hanging in the air like a challenge. Ningning’s mouth dropped open, her disbelief written all over her face. Giselle blinked, momentarily stunned. Karina, however, looked delighted, her grin spreading wider.

“Wait,” Karina said, leaning forward with a mischievous glint in her eye. “You’ve been sneaking off to this place because you read a book about someone squirting, and you wanted to see if it was real?”

Minjeong’s face was practically glowing, and she stared hard at the floor, as if it might offer her salvation. “I couldn’t stop thinking about it,” she admitted reluctantly. “It just… wouldn’t leave my mind. And then the conversation got brought up, and Yunjin told me about that place. She said it’s run by the same people as that other one she mentioned, but this one is more…” She hesitated, searching for the right word. “Broad. Structured.”

“Oh, come on,” Ningning said, her skepticism practically radiating off her. “There’s no way people actually do that. It’s so fake.”

Karina rolled her eyes. “It’s not a conspiracy, Ning. I’m sure it can totally happen.”

“But how?” Giselle chimed in, narrowing her eyes as if trying to unravel a mystery. “It’s not like that’s a normal thing, right? Isn’t it just exaggerated in movies and… books?”

“It’s not exaggerated,” Minjeong said quietly, though her voice lacked its usual firmness. “It’s just… uncommon.”

“That’s an understatement,” Ningning muttered, shaking her head. “I still don’t buy it.”

Karina threw up her hands in exasperation. “You guys are such skeptics! Just because you haven’t experienced it doesn’t mean it’s fake.”

Minjeong groaned, burying her face in her hands. “This is exactly why I didn’t want to talk about it.”

The room divided like a fault line, Karina on one side, practically bouncing with excitement, and Ningning and Giselle on the other, their skeptical expressions nearly identical. The debate escalated as they volleyed arguments back and forth, the room buzzing with contrasting opinions.

“It’s science!” Karina insisted, gesturing animatedly. “Do you even hear yourselves? Of course, it’s real. Minjeong literally just said it happened.”

“Science or not, it sounds… extreme,” Ningning said doubtfully, pulling her blanket tighter. “Like something you’d read about in a clickbait article.”

“Or fanfiction,” Giselle added under her breath, earning a sharp glare from Karina.

“All I’m saying is, it’s not impossible,” Karina said firmly, throwing an arm around Minjeong’s shoulders for support. “And honestly? I think it’s pretty amazing that she had the guts to find out.”

Minjeong groaned again, shrinking lower. “Can we please stop talking about this?”

“Not a chance,” Karina said, her grin unwavering. “This is the best thing I’ve heard all year.”

Karina leaned back with a sly smirk, her gaze flicking toward Minjeong. She leaned in ever so slightly, lowering her voice so the others couldn’t hear. Minjeong stiffened, her wide eyes darting to Karina as a faint blush crept up her cheeks. Karina’s playful, conspiratorial expression was enough to make Minjeong’s lips part in hesitant confusion.

Karina whispered something quietly, and Minjeong blinked, her expression shifting between embarrassment and reluctant amusement. She gave a tiny shake of her head, her lips pressing together as if to suppress a smile.

Karina sat back, triumphant, and clapped her hands together with deliberate force, snapping the others’ attention to her. “Okay,” she announced brightly, cutting through the tension. “You clearly don’t believe it, so here’s my suggestion.”

Giselle and Ningning turned to her warily, their skepticism etched in their faces. “What suggestion?” Giselle asked, her voice cautious.

Karina’s grin widened. “Why don’t you two go and find out for yourselves?”

Ningning blinked, her jaw dropping. “You’re joking.”

“I’m completely serious,” Karina said smoothly. “You keep saying it’s ridiculous, so why not settle it? Go. See what it’s actually like.”

“That’s insane,” Ningning said, her face turning red. “Why would we do that?”

“To prove a point,” Karina replied, shrugging. “Unless you’re scared.”

Ningning sputtered, clutching her blanket. “I’m not scared! I just— It’s ridiculous.”

Minjeong sighed, cutting through the argument with a calm voice. “It’s not about proving anything. The point is that it’s a safe space to explore. You don’t have to do anything. You can just… see. If it’s not for you, you leave. That’s it.”

Giselle narrowed her eyes. “So we just walk in and… magically get it?”

Minjeong shrugged. “Maybe. Or maybe not. It’s not for everyone. But it’s not what you’re imagining either. It’s safer. Better.”

Ningning groaned, sinking deeper into her recliner. “This is ridiculous.”

Karina chuckled, her grin smug. “Just think about it. No pressure.”

The conversation fizzled into uneasy silence as Giselle and Ningning exchanged glances. Minjeong, feeling the weight of the room, mumbled, “I’m going to bed,” and disappeared into her room.

A while later, after Giselle and Ningning had retreated, Karina lingered before slipping into Minjeong’s room. Minjeong looked up from her bed, startled but not annoyed.

Karina grinned, leaning against the doorframe. “So? Did you actually… you know…”

Minjeong hesitated, her lips trembling before she gave the smallest, shyest nod.

Karina’s gasp was loud enough to echo off the walls. “No way! That’s insane. Was it—?”

“It was…” Minjeong trailed off, her voice barely audible. “It was intense.”

Karina clapped her hands together, looking like Christmas had come early. “You have to take me next time.”

Minjeong laughed, still red-faced, and nudged Karina toward the door. “Goodnight, Karina.”

As Karina left with a satisfied grin, Minjeong allowed herself to sink into her pillows, a small, reluctant smile tugging at her lips.

-----

In the days that followed, the weight of that night’s conversation lingered in the apartment, an unspoken tension threading through their interactions. Minjeong remained quiet about the topic, going about her routines as usual, but every now and then, Ningning and Giselle would exchange glances, the question hanging in the air between them: Are we actually going to do this?

One evening, as all of them sat in the living room, the TV playing a show none of them were paying attention to, Ningning finally broke the silence.

“So…” she began, her voice hesitant but pointed. “About what unnie said the other night.”

Karina, sprawled out on the couch with her legs draped over the armrest, smirked. “Took you long enough.”

Giselle glanced up from her phone, raising an eyebrow. “I’m still not convinced,” she said, though her tone was less dismissive than it had been. “It just sounds… I don’t know, extreme.”

“Extreme?” Karina scoffed, sitting up and swinging her legs onto the floor. “Come on. It’s not like anyone’s forcing you to jump in headfirst. You could just… see it. Dip a toe in. Or don’t.”

Ningning fidgeted with the edge of her blanket. “Minjeong made it sound pretty safe,” she said, almost to herself. “And it’s not like we have to do anything, right? Just… check it out.”

Giselle narrowed her eyes. “You’re seriously considering this?”

“Well…” Ningning hesitated, her cheeks flushing. “Aren’t you? You’ve been quiet about it all week.”

Giselle huffed, crossing her arms. “I just don’t want to end up in some weird situation. What if it’s not what we’re expecting?”

“It’s not,” Minjeong’s voice cut through the room softly. She had been lingering in the doorway, unnoticed until now. Her expression was calm but serious, her eyes darting between them. “It’s nothing like what you’re imagining. I promise.”

Karina gestured toward Minjeong with a flourish. “See? She promises. And if it’s as safe as she says, what’s the harm in a little adventure?”

“I don’t know…” Giselle trailed off, her skepticism giving way to contemplation.

“You can leave anytime,” Minjeong said, stepping farther into the room. “If you feel uncomfortable, you just walk out. No one will stop you. No one will even ask why.”

“And we don’t have to… you know…” Ningning’s voice dropped as she gestured vaguely, her face burning red.

Minjeong shook her head. “Not unless you want to. You’re in control the whole time. And it’s not some creepy scene or anything. It’s professional. Respectful. Everyone’s there for their own reasons, and no one judges anyone else.”

Karina’s grin widened as she leaned back, crossing her arms. “Sounds like a glowing endorsement to me.”

Ningning chewed on her lip, her blanket now bunched in her lap. “It’s just… such a weird thing to do.”

“Exactly,” Giselle said, though her words lacked their usual edge. “It’s weird.”

“Weird doesn’t mean bad,” Minjeong said gently. “Sometimes it just means… different. And different can be good. You might surprise yourselves.”

The room fell silent, the faint hum of the TV filling the space as they considered her words. Ningning and Giselle exchanged a look, a flicker of unspoken understanding passing between them.

“Well,” Karina said, breaking the quiet, “I think you two should do it. Who knows? It might even be fun.”

“You’re not helping,” Giselle muttered, though there was a hint of a smile tugging at her lips.

Minjeong hesitated, then gave a small, reassuring smile. “If you don’t want to, that’s fine. But if you’re even a little curious… it’s worth a try. Just to see.”

Ningning let out a long breath, pulling the blanket tighter. “I’ll think about it.”

Giselle nodded slowly. “Me too. But I’m not making any promises.”

“Fair enough,” Minjeong said, retreating back to her room with a faint smile.

Karina watched her go, then turned back to the others with a twinkle in her eye. “You’re totally doing it.”

“Shut up,” Ningning and Giselle said in unison, but their cheeks were pink, and neither of them outright denied it.

The idea hovered between them, tantalizing and unresolved, as they returned to their show, though none of them were paying much attention to it now.

-----

Eventually their curiosity got the better of them and they agreed to go. By the time they arrived at the place, nerves had transformed into a strange cocktail of anticipation and curiosity. The building was surprisingly polished—a tall, elegant brick structure with clean lines and minimalist signage that simply read “Welcome.” Its shaded, frosted windows gave an air of privacy without secrecy, inviting rather than intimidating. It felt like a space designed to intrigue and comfort rather than overwhelm.

Inside, the lobby was nothing like the dungeon-like image Ningning and Giselle had tentatively imagined. Instead, it resembled a boutique spa. Soft ambient music hummed faintly through hidden speakers, blending seamlessly with the subtle aroma of lavender and sandalwood. The lighting was warm and diffused, casting golden hues over sleek, modern furniture and tasteful artwork that adorned the walls.

Then they met you.

You stepped forward with a calm, professional demeanor, offering a gentle smile that immediately softened their stiff postures. “Welcome,” you said, your voice smooth and soothing, perfectly complementing the tranquil ambiance. “I’m here to answer any questions you have and to make sure you feel comfortable throughout. This experience is entirely at your pace.”

Your words rippled through them, easing the tension that had coiled in their shoulders during the car ride over. They nodded in acknowledgment, their breaths steadying as they followed you deeper into the space. The hallway, lined with soft, abstract art in muted tones, felt like a threshold—not just physically but emotionally. Each step seemed to take them closer to something they couldn’t yet name, a blend of the unfamiliar and the curious.

You led them into a softly lit room where the golden light spilled like honey across the walls, painted in warm, neutral tones. The scent of polished wood mingled with faint notes of cedar, grounding the space. It felt intimate but not confining, like a carefully crafted haven. In the center of the room sat a neatly arranged set of tools and equipment, minimal and unobtrusive, designed to invite exploration rather than demand it.

Pausing, you turned back to face them, ensuring they were present and focused. “Before we go any further,” you began, your voice steady and inviting, “let’s talk about safe words.”

Ningning and Giselle both stiffened slightly, their expressions flickering with nervousness. You noticed the hesitation in their eyes and offered an encouraging smile, your demeanor gentle yet confident.

“This is about giving you total control of the experience,” you explained. “We use safe words as a way to stop or ease up if you feel uncomfortable. If you say ‘yellow,’ we’ll slow down; if you say ‘red,’ everything stops immediately. Think of it like a pause button.”

Giselle furrowed her brow, absorbing the information. “So, ‘yellow’ if we want to take a break, and ‘red’ if we want to stop completely?” she asked, her voice soft but steady.

“Exactly,” you said, meeting her gaze with calm confidence. “This is entirely your experience. At any point, you can say one word, and it stops—no questions asked.”

A visible wave of relief washed over Ningning as her shoulders dropped. She let out a small sigh, the faintest hint of a smile tugging at her lips. “Actually… that makes me feel a lot better. Just knowing that,” she admitted, glancing at Giselle.

Giselle gave her a faint nod in return, her posture relaxing slightly, though a trace of skepticism lingered in her eyes.

“Good,” you said, your tone soft with reassurance. “If you’re ready, we can begin.”

They exchanged a glance—a quick, silent moment of mutual reassurance—before turning back to you. Their nods were tentative but genuine, a signal of cautious readiness.

“I’ve prepared a regiment for the two of you,” you said, your voice steady and measured, watching their reactions carefully. “It’s designed to ease you into the experience, gradually introducing different sensations and emotions. However, this is flexible. I’ll be making adjustments based on your responses. This is about what feels right for you, so I’ll omit or add activities as we go.”

“Everything is planned out for us?” Ningning asked, her eyebrows raising in surprise.

“Not exactly,” you clarified with a soft smile. “I designed it with a structured flow in mind, but it’s not set in stone. Think of it as a guide, not a rulebook. We’ll adapt as needed. I’ll guide you step by step. However, there’s one recommendation: it’s best if you approach this blind.”

“Blind? Like, blindfolded?” Ningning asked, her brows knitting together in confusion.

“Not necessarily,” you explained, your tone gentle but firm. “While blindfolding is an option, what I mean is that you won’t know what’s coming next. When you let go of anticipation, it sharpens your senses and helps you focus on the moment. It lets you experience each activity more fully without preconceived notions.”

Ningning’s lips parted slightly, her expression contemplative. “So, we’d just… let it happen?”

“Exactly,” you replied, your gaze steady. “It’s about letting go of control in a safe environment. You’ll focus entirely on how you feel in the moment rather than trying to predict what’s next.”

Giselle crossed her arms, her skepticism evident. “I don’t know… that sounds a little intense.”

“It is,” Ningning said with a soft laugh, glancing at her friend. “But maybe that’s the point? I mean, if we’re doing this, we might as well do it the right way.”

Giselle hesitated, her gaze flicking between you and Ningning before exhaling heavily. “And we can stop anytime, right?”

“Absolutely,” you assured her, your voice calm and reassuring.

Ningning and Giselle exchanged a quick glance, a silent conversation passing between them. Finally, Ningning gave a tentative nod, her lips curving into the faintest of smiles. “I think we should try.”

Giselle rolled her eyes softly, but the corners of her mouth betrayed a small, curious smile. “Fine. But if this gets weird, I’m out.”

“Fair enough,” you said with a warm smile, gesturing toward the center of the room, where everything had been carefully prepared for their arrival.

With practiced ease, you guided them into the softly lit room, the golden glow casting a warm, intimate light across the space. The earlier atmosphere of calm reassurance shifted as you closed the door behind them with a soft click. When you turned back, your entire demeanor had transformed—your expression now steady and commanding, your movements precise and deliberate. The quiet authority you carried filled the room, grounding them in the gravity of what was to come.

“Strip,” you instructed, your tone calm but unyielding, leaving no room for hesitation. “Everything but your panties.”

They froze for a moment, the weight of the command sinking in. Their gazes flicked to you, a sudden jolt of arousal coursing through them as they took in this new, commanding side of you. It was unexpected—this transformation in your demeanor—and it sent a shiver of anticipation down their spines.

Exchanging a brief glance, they seemed to silently agree on their next steps. Ningning’s fingers trembled slightly as she grasped the hem of her shirt, carefully sliding it off her shoulders. Her bra followed, the clasp unhooking with slow, deliberate movements as she revealed her flushed skin. Giselle followed suit, unbuttoning her blouse with steady hands before stepping out of her jeans in a single, fluid motion. Both of their breathing grew shallow, the cool air brushing against their heated skin.

They folded their garments neatly, setting them aside in a small pile, the rustling of fabric the only sound punctuating the charged silence of the room. Their movements were measured, deliberate, as though they were hyper-aware of your presence. Left in only their panties, the vulnerability of the moment wrapped around them like a second skin.

You observed them closely, your steady gaze unwavering, assessing their compliance with quiet intensity. A faint nod of approval softened the edges of your commanding presence. “Good,” you said simply, your tone neutral but firm. “Now, hands forward.”

Their hands rose instinctively, the slight tremor in Ningning’s fingers betraying her nerves. You stepped forward with measured precision, your every motion exuding calm confidence. Picking up a coil of soft, supple rope from the nearby table, you moved toward Ningning first.

You took her wrists gently in your hands, the warmth of your fingers steadying her as you began to work. Your movements were fluid and practiced, each loop of the rope snug but never tight. The fabric pressed softly against her skin, securing her without discomfort. The quiet rustling of the rope as it glided through your hands filled the space, mingling with the faint rhythm of her breathing.

Once finished, you turned to Giselle. She extended her hands wordlessly, her gaze flicking briefly to Ningning before returning to you. You repeated the process, wrapping the rope around her wrists with the same precision, the material gliding smoothly as you worked. Her posture remained composed, though the faintest flush of color crept up her neck as the knots settled into place.

Their hands now rested just above their heads, supported by the ropes. Their feet stayed grounded, but the gentle tension in their arms introduced a faint stretch that felt unfamiliar yet oddly empowering. They exchanged a quick glance, their shared curiosity reflected in the subtle flicker of their expressions.

The sensation of the ropes—their softness, their firm yet yielding hold—seemed to heighten everything around them. The golden light wrapped the room in warmth, while the rhythmic creak of the ropes created a cocoon of quiet intimacy. What had once been a heavy sense of anticipation now felt lighter, suspended in a moment of carefully crafted care.

“Good girls,” you said softly, your voice carrying a subtle warmth beneath its grounded authority. Moving deliberately, you adjusted the ropes, your presence steady and unwavering. The care in your actions was unmistakable, but so was the quiet dominance that now defined your movements. You exuded control—not forceful, but unshakable—creating a dynamic that made them feel held and guided.

With a faint smile, you stepped back to let them adjust to the position. “Let’s start with something simple,” you said, your voice low but firm, with just enough softness to ease their remaining nerves. You turned toward a nearby table, retrieving a soft flogger, its supple material catching the golden light as you lifted it.

The rhythmic sound of your footsteps across the floor filled the space, a quiet punctuation to the moment. Ningning took a deep breath, her senses finely tuned to the subtle movements around her. Her gaze followed you with a mix of curiosity and anticipation, while Giselle briefly closed her eyes, grounding herself in the present and letting her focus shift to her body’s awareness.

“Ready?” you asked, your voice steady and unyielding, carrying no pressure but a quiet expectation.

They nodded, their breathing steadier now, though their bodies remained taut with anticipation. You stepped closer to Ningning first, letting the soft flogger trail lightly over her bare shoulder. The faint whisper of its strands brushing against her skin sent a shiver coursing down her spine, heightening her awareness of every inch of her body. Her chest rose and fell with measured breaths, her senses narrowing to the point of contact.

Then came the first light tap. The strands of the flogger landed on her upper back with a delicate precision, the sting blooming across her skin in a wave of warmth. Ningning inhaled sharply, the unexpected sensation startling her at first, her lips parting as her eyes widened. The sting faded quickly, leaving behind a faint, tingling heat that lingered, coaxing her body into a heightened state of sensitivity.

As the rhythm of the strokes continued, deliberate and evenly spaced, her initial tension began to dissolve. Each strike brought a sharper awareness, a paradoxical mixture of control and surrender that her mind couldn’t quite process but her body responded to instinctively. The faint pull of the ropes binding her wrists heightened the sensation, keeping her grounded as her thoughts gave way to raw feeling. Her breathing deepened, the warmth in her skin now merging with an unfamiliar but undeniable arousal. The sting that had surprised her at first now contributed to a growing ache of need, as though her body was awakening to a language it had never spoken before.

Gradually, the intensity increased. The strokes came harder, the flogger landing with more force, pushing her just a little further with each hit. Ningning’s moans deepened, her body reacting to the pain in ways that surprised even her. The sting turned into a fiery pulse, dancing across her skin in a way that threatened to overwhelm her but never quite crossed the line. Her head tilted back, her lips parting to release a soft whimper that mixed pain and pleasure into a single, intoxicating sound. The ache lingered longer now, the heat radiating from her back blending with the throbbing arousal pooling low in her body.

You moved with deliberate care, watching for any flicker of discomfort in her expression. But Ningning’s soft exhales, the subtle arch of her back, and the way her hips shifted told you she was riding the edge of the sensation, her body adapting as she yielded to the rhythm of the flogger.

Satisfied, you turned to Giselle, allowing the flogger’s supple strands to brush teasingly across her skin. The faint touch made her flinch slightly, a gasp escaping her lips as her body stiffened reflexively. You delivered the first light stroke to her back, the flogger landing with a muted crack. The sting rippled through her, sharp and immediate, forcing her breath to hitch. For a moment, her body froze, her mind processing the unfamiliar sensation.

But as the heat spread, the sharpness softened into something richer, more profound—a warmth that coursed through her muscles and heightened her awareness of her own body. Her breaths began to slow, her posture shifting as she allowed herself to accept the rhythm. Each subsequent stroke seemed to draw her deeper into the moment, her mind quieting as the sensation became less foreign and more intoxicating. The feeling of being bound, her wrists held securely above her head, amplified her surrender. The ropes didn’t restrain her—they anchored her, giving her the freedom to let go.

The strokes on Giselle intensified gradually as well, the flogger landing with increasing force. Her body jerked with each hit, the sharp sting leaving behind a trail of tingling heat that both burned and soothed. The line between too much and just enough blurred, her body trembling as the sensations layered atop each other. A flush crept up her neck, her chest heaving as she adjusted to the rhythm. Each strike sent a pulse of arousal coursing through her, the pain tipping into pleasure with a sweet inevitability.

The pain built steadily, each strike pushing them closer to their limits without crossing the threshold. It hovered at the brink, testing their endurance while drawing out their arousal. Ningning’s soft moans became more urgent, her body shivering as she leaned into the rhythm, her mind overwhelmed but unwilling to stop. Giselle’s breathing hitched with every strike, her head falling forward as she let out a series of trembling gasps, her body fighting the tension that teetered on the edge of overwhelming.

When you finally stepped back, both women were trembling. Their flushed skin glistened with a sheen of sweat, and their breathing synced in shallow, uneven gasps. The throbbing ache in their backs mirrored the pulsing arousal coursing through their bodies. Their eyes met, wide and glassy, the pain and pleasure written in their expressions—a silent acknowledgment that this was unlike anything they had imagined. It was raw, immersive, and undeniably arousing.

“You’re doing well,” you said softly, your tone carrying a note of approval that resonated in the quiet space. Their gazes shifted back to you, their expressions now open, filled with curiosity and something deeper, more vulnerable.

You paused, giving them time to absorb the sensations fully before speaking again. “Alright,” you said, your voice calm and measured, “I’m going to add another element.”

Ningning and Giselle both nodded, their interest fully captured now. Their cheeks were still flushed from the sensations they’d already experienced, their breaths shallow as they prepared for what was next. The soft sound of the ropes faintly creaking above them served as a quiet reminder of their bound state, amplifying their awareness of every movement.

From your collection, you retrieved a pair of intricately designed clamps, their polished metal gleaming in the light. They were delicate but purposeful, adjustable to provide just enough pressure to transform ordinary touch into something extraordinary. You held the clamps with quiet authority, their intricate design a contrast to the intensity they promised.

Starting with Ningning, you reached forward, your fingers grazing the curve of her breast with deliberate slowness. Her breath hitched as your touch lingered, her skin hypersensitive under your hand. With practiced ease, you secured the first clamp to her nipple. The initial sensation was sharp, a sudden sting that drew a gasp from her parted lips. “Ahh…” Her back arched slightly, the pull of the rope above her making the reaction even more pronounced.

The sting lingered, a constant ache that quickly shifted into a hum of sensation, heightening her awareness of her body. A soft moan escaped her as you secured the second clamp, the dual points of pressure creating a symphony of sensations. The ache was persistent, demanding her focus, but the way it blended with the warmth of arousal in her core made her chest rise and fall with quickened breaths. Beneath her, the heat of her excitement began to bloom, the dampness at the apex of her thighs growing as her body responded.

You turned to Giselle, your hands just as steady and deliberate. Her eyes fluttered closed as your fingers ghosted over her skin, teasing her sensitive flesh before carefully placing the first clamp. “Mmm…” she moaned softly, her body stiffening momentarily at the sting as the metal gripped her. A low, trembling exhale followed as the sensation settled, morphing from sharpness into a dull, throbbing ache that sent warmth radiating outward. The second clamp followed with equal care, eliciting a soft, shaky moan from her lips. “Oh…” Giselle’s breathing deepened, her chest rising as she adjusted to the rhythmic pulse of sensation.

Bound above, their hands unable to lower, both Ningning and Giselle were acutely aware of every shift and movement. The clamps weren’t merely a source of sensation; they were a constant presence, a persistent reminder of their vulnerability. And yet, that vulnerability seemed to amplify their arousal, each breath bringing them closer to surrendering fully to the moment.

you retrieved two floggers, their supple strands swaying lightly as you held them in each hand. The leather glinted faintly in the light, promising a mix of sensation that would push them further. Their eyes flickered to the tools, their bodies tensing in anticipation as you stepped closer.

You began with Ningning and Giselle simultaneously, the strands of the floggers trailing across their skin in teasing strokes. The featherlight contact danced along their shoulders, arms, and backs, coaxing shivers that made their breath hitch. The anticipation of the impact alone sent a thrill through them, their muscles tightening instinctively.

The first strikes landed, one on each of them, perfectly timed. The strands of the floggers kissed their skin with a satisfying crack, sending ripples of sensation through their bodies. Ningning gasped sharply, her hips jerking slightly against the tension of the ropes. Giselle let out a soft cry, her body stiffening momentarily before yielding to the sting. The impact wasn’t overwhelming—just enough to awaken their senses and pull them into the moment.

You continued, your movements measured and deliberate as the floggers alternated between soft trails and precise strikes. The synchronized rhythm created a symphony of sensation that reverberated through their bodies. Each strike was perfectly timed to ensure neither was left waiting too long, the alternating snaps of leather keeping their senses sharp and their arousal building.

Ningning’s head tilted back, her lips parting as the flogger’s strands brushed over the curve of her lower back, followed by a precise strike just beneath her shoulder blades. The sting blended with a spreading warmth, her breathing growing shallower as the sensations layered. Each strike heightened the ache in her chest, the clamps on her nipples pulling slightly with every flinch, amplifying the experience. “Oh… oh…” she whimpered, her voice trembling as the sensations pushed her closer to her limits.

Giselle, on the other hand, squirmed against the bonds, her moans low and breathy as the flogger struck her thighs with a sharp crack. The impact sent a shiver up her spine, the ache settling into a dull throb that pulsed through her sensitive skin. Her nipples, adorned with the clamps, tugged faintly with every motion, the combination of pain and arousal sending her reeling. “Ahh…” she gasped, her hips shifting as her body sought release from the growing tension.

Switching to a synchronized rhythm, you struck their thighs in tandem, the floggers landing with a sharp snap that made them cry out simultaneously. The matching reactions sent a thrill through the room, their voices blending in a harmony of raw sensation. The sight of them together, bound and trembling, with the faint sheen of sweat glistening on their skin, was mesmerizing.

The strikes grew slightly firmer, the intensity increasing as you alternated between their backs, shoulders, and thighs. Each impact pulled a deeper reaction from them, their cries becoming louder, their bodies arching against the ropes as the pain crept closer to the brink of too much—but never crossing the line. Their flushed cheeks and trembling thighs betrayed the arousal simmering beneath the surface, the pain merging seamlessly with pleasure.

“Breathe,” you instructed, your voice steady and grounding. The reminder was enough to steady their erratic breaths, their chests rising and falling as they adjusted to the rhythm. The floggers snapped against their skin again, and this time, Ningning’s hips bucked involuntarily, a soft moan spilling from her lips as her arousal became undeniable. The dampness soaking her panties left no question of her response, the heat pooling at her core almost unbearable.

Giselle, too, was unraveling under the dual sensations. Her body trembled with every strike, her breaths shallow and uneven as the clamps tugged with each movement. “Please…” she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper, the word dripping with need. Her thighs quivered, the evidence of her arousal glistening faintly between her legs.

The room was alive with the sounds of their moans, the rhythmic crack of the floggers, and the faint creak of the ropes above them. The atmosphere was charged, every sound and motion amplifying the intimacy of the moment. Their bodies were painted with faint red marks from the floggers, the lingering sting merging with the ache of the clamps to push them further into surrender.

You paused briefly, letting the floggers rest against your sides as you stepped closer. Your hands brushed over their trembling forms, the gentle touch a stark contrast to the intensity of the flogging. “You’re both incredible,” you murmured, your voice soft but commanding.

Positioned between them, your hands moved with deliberate care, teasing the soft line where their thighs met their centers. The proximity alone sent shivers through their bodies, the charged tension in the air palpable. Ningning’s hips shifted instinctively, a soft, breathy moan escaping her lips as your fingers hovered maddeningly close to her entrance. The barest brush of your touch against her slick panties drew a sharp gasp, her body arching as though every nerve had been primed for this moment. “Please…” she whispered, her voice trembling with need, the dampness soaking through the fabric leaving no question of her arousal.

On Giselle’s side, your fingers mirrored the same featherlight touch, barely skimming the delicate skin beneath the damp fabric at her core. Her breath hitched audibly, her bound wrists tugging gently at the ropes as if seeking some anchor amidst the overwhelming sensations. “Mmm… oh…” she moaned, her thighs trembling as her body leaned subtly toward you, desperate for more contact. The clamps adorning her nipples heightened every subtle motion, the tug of the chain combining pain and pleasure in a way that made her hips press eagerly against your teasing fingers.

You alternated between them with meticulous precision, your touch gentle yet deliberate. A teasing stroke here, a fleeting graze there—just enough to push them closer to the edge without offering the satisfaction their bodies so clearly craved. Ningning’s moans grew louder, her hips lifting in small, involuntary movements as if drawn by invisible strings. Her core glistened beneath the thin layer of her panties, soaking through the delicate fabric, the evidence of her surrender shining in the golden light. “Ahh… I can’t…” she gasped, her voice shaking, the ache in her body now unbearable yet exquisite.

Giselle was lost in the rhythm of your touch, her thighs quivering as her moans softened into low, fervent whispers. “Mmm… please,” she murmured, her lips parting as she gave in completely. Her body rocked subtly, her movements bolder with each stroke, while the clamps on her nipples pulsed in time with the ache radiating through her. Her voice, breathy and trembling, added to the tension that thickened the air. “More…”

Between them, you worked like a conductor orchestrating a symphony, their bodies the instruments responding perfectly to your touch. The wet sounds of their arousal, the quiet clink of the chain between the clamps, and the soft moans that spilled from their lips blended into a harmony of pleasure and need. Every shift of your fingers and every intentional pause amplified their yearning, drawing them closer to the precipice with every touch.”

Ningning’s response was a choked moan, her body trembling as her slickness overflowed, soaking the thin fabric of her panties until it clung to her. Giselle whimpered in unison, her thighs trembling as her own need reached a fever pitch. Their breaths became erratic, their gazes hazy and unfocused, their arousal undeniable as they teetered on the edge of release.

Just as the crescendo seemed inevitable, you slowed your movements, teasingly lightening your touch until your fingers hovered maddeningly close to their centers without fully making contact. Ningning let out a desperate whimper, her hips lifting instinctively toward your touch, only for you to withdraw entirely. “Ahh… please,” she moaned, her voice trembling with need.

Giselle echoed her plea, her lips parting as a low, drawn-out whine spilled from her throat. “Don’t stop… please,” she murmured, her voice thick with desperation as her thighs quivered against the restraint of her own arousal.

With a small, deliberate pause, you slipped your fingers to their soaked panties, pressing lightly against the fabric to collect the wetness that pooled there. Both of them gasped, the sudden pressure sending a jolt of sensation through their bodies. “You’re dripping,” you said softly, your voice a mixture of approval and tease.

Holding your fingers up to Ningning first, you pressed them lightly to her lips. “Taste yourself,” you commanded gently. Her eyes widened slightly, her breath catching, but she obeyed, her lips parting to take your fingers into her mouth. Her tongue flicked against them tentatively at first, her eyes fluttering shut as the intimate taste of her own arousal spread across her palate. A soft moan escaped her throat as she sucked lightly, her cheeks flushing deeper.

Turning to Giselle, you offered her the same. “Your turn.” Without hesitation, her lips wrapped around your fingers, her tongue tracing deliberately against them as her moan resonated low and deep, her lashes fluttering against her flushed cheeks. The shared intimacy of tasting themselves lingered in the air, their gazes flicking to each other, a mirrored hunger reflected in their expressions.

Their breathing grew shallow as you moved behind them, the tension in the room thickening. Their bound hands, secured above their heads, stretched their bodies taut, their exposed curves highlighted by the glow of the golden light. The vulnerability of their position sent a fresh wave of arousal coursing through them, their soaked panties clinging to their flushed, sensitive skin.

You placed a hand on Ningning’s lower back, the heat of her skin radiating against your palm. “Good girl,” you murmured softly before raising your hand and delivering a sharp smack to her ass. The sound echoed through the room, her gasp sharp and startled as her body jolted forward. The sting lingered, blooming into a warmth that sent a shudder through her.

Without hesitation, you turned to Giselle, delivering the same measured strike to her. Her response was different—lower, more guttural—as her bound wrists shifted slightly, and her legs trembled beneath her. “Mmm…” she moaned, her voice thick with a mixture of pain and pleasure.

You alternated between them, your strikes deliberate, each impact eliciting a sharp gasp or moan. Their backs arched further with each touch, their bodies instinctively lifting to meet your hand. The heat radiating from their reddened skin blended seamlessly with the growing slickness soaking through their panties.

Once their breathing became ragged and their moans deepened, you let your hands drift lower, teasing the edges of the damp fabric covering their centers. Both women froze for a moment, their bodies trembling in anticipation as you pressed lightly against the soaked cloth. The heat from their folds was undeniable, and your teasing touch only heightened their arousal.

With a swift, deliberate motion, you brought your palm up against Ningning’s throbbing area, the spank sharp even through the damp barrier of her panties. She cried out instantly, her voice raw and breathless. “Ahhh—oh!” Her hips bucked forward, her thighs trembling as the mix of sting and pleasure shot through her body.

Giselle barely had time to react before your other hand landed on hers in a similar motion. Her moan was deeper, her legs quaking as she pressed her hips against the table. “Mmm… oh my God!” she gasped, the vibration of her voice carrying through the room.

Sliding your hands under their thighs, you brought your palms up, the strikes landing directly on their folds. Their voices rose in unison, desperate and raw. “Please…” Ningning whimpered, her body quaking as another spank drew a muffled scream. Giselle’s voice followed, her cries breathless and broken as she teetered on the edge of release.

“You feel it, don’t you?” you murmured, your voice low and commanding, leaning close enough for your breath to tickle their ears. “The way your bodies crave this, the way you’ve surrendered completely.”

They nodded helplessly, their voices lost in the symphony of gasps and moans that filled the room. The smell of their arousal mingled with the warmth radiating from their skin, creating an intoxicating atmosphere. Their panties clung to their slick folds, glistening in the light as their trembling bodies sought release. Every strike sent ripples of sensation through them, pushing them closer and closer to the precipice, their cries growing louder and more desperate with each passing second.

Suddenly, you untied the ropes that bound their hands above their heads, granting them a fleeting moment of respite. Their arms fell limply, their muscles trembling from the strain and the lingering arousal coursing through them. They flexed their fingers instinctively, a faint tingling running through their limbs as they adjusted to the sudden freedom.

“Take off your panties,” you commanded, your voice calm but firm, cutting through the haze of the moment. “And give them to me.”

The instruction left no room for hesitation. Ningning’s trembling hands moved first, hooking her thumbs under the waistband of her panties and sliding them down her thighs. The damp fabric clung slightly before coming free, revealing her reddened lips. Her cheeks flushed a deeper shade as she held the soaked garment in her hand, the wetness undeniable against her skin.

Giselle mirrored her, peeling the damp fabric from her heated core with slow, deliberate movements. The cool air brushing against her sensitive skin made her inhale sharply, her eyes flicking briefly to Ningning before focusing on you. She held her panties between her fingers, feeling the slick weight of her arousal before hesitantly extending them toward you.

You accepted them with steady hands, your expression unreadable but commanding. “Feel them,” you instructed, holding the garments back toward them briefly. “Understand just how deeply your bodies have responded.”

Ningning’s fingers brushed over the damp fabric, her eyes widening slightly as she pressed her lips together, trying to contain her reaction. “Oh my god…” she whispered, her voice barely audible, her cheeks glowing as she comprehended just how soaked they were.

Giselle’s response was quieter, her thumb grazing the wetness as a small, knowing smile tugged at her lips. “That’s… a lot,” she murmured, her breath hitching as the realization settled over her.

The moment was fleeting. Without a word, you folded their panties neatly, the damp fabric a testament to their arousal. With deliberate care, you slid them into your pockets, before stepping forward, your presence grounding them as their breathing quickened.

“Hands behind your backs,” you said, your voice smooth and unyielding, and they obeyed immediately. Their arms moved into position, trembling slightly as you secured their wrists once more with soft, silken ropes. Each loop was precise, snug without being harsh, holding them firmly yet comfortably.

“I want you both to sit tight for a moment. I’ll be right back,” you instructed, your tone firm yet reassuring. With a nod, you turned and left the room, your quiet footsteps fading into the adjacent chamber.

Left to their own devices, Ningning and Giselle’s minds raced with curiosity, their bodies still alight with the sensations you’d left them to process. Giselle, her chest still heaving, turned toward Ningning with a faint, knowing smile. “That was… so good,” she whispered, her voice tinged with excited apprehension.

Ningning let out a breathy laugh, her cheeks glowing as she leaned slightly forward. “I can’t believe how wet I am right now,” she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper, tinged with awe and vulnerability. A shiver ran through her as she shifted slightly, the slickness between her thighs a constant reminder of her arousal.

Before Giselle could respond, the sound of your footsteps returning drew their attention. You stepped back into the room, your presence commanding yet calm, your arms cradling two sleek, identical machines that hummed faintly with potential. The golden light of the room glinted off their polished surfaces, casting a warm glow that seemed to heighten the anticipation.

Giselle’s eyes widened in recognition as her gaze fell on the devices—two Sybians, infamous for their unrelenting intensity. Though she had never personally experienced one, the stories she’d heard were enough to send a shiver down her spine, her breath catching in her throat. Beside her, Ningning regarded the machines with a blend of curiosity and confusion, her innocence apparent in the whispered query, “Wait… what are those?”

Leaning closer, Giselle whispered, her voice tinged with both apprehension and excitement, “They’re… well, let’s just say they’re intense.”

You positioned the Sybians carefully, facing each other, the low hum of their engines vibrating faintly in the quiet room. The promise of what lay ahead hung thick in the air, a heady mix of arousal and nervous anticipation. Your movements were deliberate, almost ceremonial, as you arranged the scene, ensuring every detail was perfect. Ningning and Giselle watched, their bound hands resting behind them, their breathing shallow as they tried to steady themselves for what was to come.

With meticulous care, you guided them toward the Sybians, their knees trembling slightly as they straddled the velvety surface of the devices. The upholstery was soft against their thighs, a tactile contrast to the power that lay just beneath the surface. The slight height of the machines forced them into a position that was equal parts vulnerable and intimate, their bodies cradled by the contours designed to meet their most sensitive areas.

As they settled into place, the machines hummed to life, their low vibrations spreading through the room. Ningning gasped softly as the first subtle tremor reached her, her hips shifting instinctively in response. The sensation was like a gentle pulse, resonating deep within her core and coaxing her body into heightened awareness. Her lips parted as a soft, breathy moan escaped her. “Oh…” The sound carried a note of surprise, her innocence melting into tentative exploration.

Giselle, more prepared for the experience, exhaled a slow, shaky breath as the low purr of the Sybian spread through her. The vibration was pervasive, sinking into her muscles and radiating outward, like a wave of warmth that seemed to unwind her body from the inside out. Her head tilted back slightly, her bound wrists pulling faintly against the ropes as she surrendered to the initial sensations. “God…” she murmured, her voice low and tinged with both awe and arousal.

The machines were still on their lowest setting, their vibrations soft but insistent, like a whisper coaxing their bodies to respond. The hum resonated through their folds, teasing their most sensitive nerves without overwhelming them. It was a careful prelude, a tender invitation to let go. Ningning’s hips began to shift involuntarily, seeking more pressure, the dampness between her thighs betraying how deeply her body was responding. “It’s… so much,” she whispered, her voice trembling with both nerves and arousal.

You watched closely, your eyes flicking between Ningning and Giselle, gauging their reactions. Their breaths were shallow, their bodies quivering with the lingering intensity of the Sybians’ vibrations. It was clear they were teetering on the edge, their flushed cheeks and parted lips betraying their heightened states of arousal. Satisfied that they were ready for the next step, you moved with deliberate precision, reaching for the chain that would transform their experience into something even more profound.

With a smooth motion, you adjusted the clamps already adorning their sensitive nipples, the faint creak of the metal audible in the quiet room. Ningning whimpered softly at the renewed pressure, her body tensing briefly before relaxing into the sensation. Giselle’s lips parted in a shaky exhale, her chest rising and falling as she adjusted to the small adjustment.

Then, with deliberate care, you connected the clamps—first attaching Ningning’s right nipple to Giselle’s left, and then repeating the action on the opposite side. The fine silver chain between them gleamed under the warm light, a delicate but unmistakable bridge that tethered their bodies and sensations together. The effect was immediate and electric. The slightest movement from one caused the chain to tug on the other, creating a feedback loop of stimulation that neither could escape.

Ningning gasped as the chain shifted with Giselle’s movement, the pull on her nipple sending a fresh wave of sensation rippling through her. “Ahh…” she moaned softly, her hips trembling against the Sybian beneath her. The cool metal of the chain warmed quickly against their flushed skin, its presence a constant, tangible reminder of their connection.

Giselle inhaled sharply as the chain tugged her in response, her own gasp echoing Ningning’s. The clamps’ unyielding grip amplified every shudder and twitch, their sensitive peaks now bound in a dance of give and take. “Oh… god…” she murmured, her voice low and breathy, her body swaying slightly as the sensations intertwined.

“Now, the only rule here is to sit still,” you commanded softly, your voice steady yet firm. The authority in your tone sent a shiver through them, grounding them even as their bodies threatened to spiral into the overwhelming sensations. “If you move too much, you’ll only make it more intense for each other.”

The Sybians hummed beneath them, their vibrations deepening as you turned the controls slightly. The shift was subtle at first, a gentle increase that teased their already overstimulated bodies. Ningning let out a broken moan, her thighs clenching instinctively against the velvety surface of the device. The vibrations seemed to seep into her very core, spreading like wildfire through her body. “Oh my god…” she gasped, her voice trembling as the sensations climbed higher.

Giselle’s reaction was no less immediate. Her lips parted in a low, guttural moan, her bound hands pulling slightly against the ropes as the Sybian’s pulsations grew more insistent. Each small movement from Ningning sent the chain between them tugging at her clamps, adding a sharp, delicious edge to the vibrations that rippled through her body. “Mmm… it’s so much,” she managed to whisper, her voice thick with need.

The clamps acted as a bridge between them, magnifying every tremor and shudder. A twitch from one sent a wave of sensation to the other, binding them in an intimate, inescapable loop of shared pleasure. Ningning’s moans grew louder as she struggled to keep still, the vibrations and the relentless pull of the chain driving her closer to the edge. “Ahh… I can’t… it’s too much…” she whimpered, her voice a mix of desperation and exhilaration.

Giselle, no longer able to hold back, let out a trembling cry as the chain tugged at her again, her body arching against the device. “Oh… oh god… please…” she gasped, the rhythmic pulsations of the Sybian combining with the clamps’ steady pressure to push her closer to surrender.

Ningning’s breath hitched, her chest rising and falling as her body quivered beneath the mounting waves of pleasure. The air around her was thick, carrying the faint, musky scent of arousal mingled with the warmth of their shared exertion. Her thighs trembled against the velvety surface of the Sybian, the vibrations resonating deep within her, coaxing her closer to the edge with every relentless pulse. The clamps connecting her to Giselle tugged lightly with each subtle movement, a sharp yet tantalizing sting that tethered her pleasure to her partner’s.

Her breaths turned ragged, a series of shallow gasps punctuated by moans that grew louder as her climax approached. The sting of the clamps, now warmed by her flushed skin, was a constant reminder of her vulnerability and connection. Each breath carried a faint sweetness, the room’s ambient scent laced with the unmistakable notes of sweat and arousal that hung heavily in the air. It was intoxicating, enveloping her senses as she surrendered to the rising tide of sensation.

Giselle, seated opposite her, was equally enraptured. She watched Ningning with wide, glassy eyes, her own body responding to every tremor that traveled through the chain between them. The faint jingle of the silver links with every motion sent shocks of stimulation to her oversensitive peaks. The sight of Ningning on the brink—her flushed cheeks, her parted lips, her moans rising in pitch—only pushed Giselle closer to her own edge. The sharp, metallic tang of the clamps against her skin mixed with the faint musk in the air, creating a sensory symphony that heightened the intimacy of their shared experience.

Ningning’s body tensed, her muscles tightening as the vibrations reached a crescendo, the pleasure building to a point where she could no longer contain it. Her hips bucked instinctively, the Sybian beneath her humming relentlessly against her swollen lips. The sensation was maddening, a sweet torment that stole her breath. The tug of the clamps against her nipples sent shockwaves that echoed through her chest, amplifying every pulse of the machine beneath her.

Finally, with a choked cry, Ningning tumbled over the edge. Her climax erupted in a cascade of pure, unbridled ecstasy, the pleasure radiating outward in waves that seemed to reach every nerve ending in her body. Her back arched sharply, her bound hands pulling against the ropes as she cried out, her voice raw and guttural. The room echoed with her cries, the sound rich with the depth of her release. A sheen of sweat glistened on her skin, the heat of her orgasm suffusing her body with an electric warmth.

But her climax triggered an unexpected reaction. As she convulsed in pleasure, her body shifted slightly, pulling against the chain that bound her to Giselle. The sudden tug on the clamps sent a searing sting through Giselle’s sensitive peaks, forcing a sharp intake of breath. “Ahh—!” The pain, brief and sharp, acted as a spark, igniting the overwhelming pleasure already coursing through her. The sudden shift from the sharp edge of sensation to the deep pulse of pleasure tipped her over the brink.

Giselle’s climax hit her like a bolt of lightning, her body convulsing as the pleasure surged through her like an unstoppable current. Her thighs clenched against the Sybian, her toes curling as waves of ecstasy consumed her. “Oh… oh my god!” she cried, her voice breaking into gasps as her muscles tightened and released in rhythm with the machine’s relentless vibrations. Her bound wrists strained slightly against the ropes as her body arched, her head tilting back as she surrendered fully to the storm of sensation.

The chain between them continued to shift, transferring the echoes of their climaxes back and forth. Each shudder from one sent a tremor to the other, keeping the intensity alive, binding them in an intimate dance of shared release. The air was thick with their moans and cries, the scent of sweat and arousal mingling with the faint metallic tang of the clamps and the warmth of their bodies.

As the waves of their orgasms ebbed, both women collapsed against the Sybians, their bodies trembling from the aftershocks. Their breaths came in short, uneven gasps, their flushed skin glowing in the golden light of the room. Ningning’s head lolled forward, her damp hair clinging to her forehead as she let out a soft, breathy laugh. “I… I can’t believe that…” she murmured, her voice trembling with exhaustion and satisfaction.

Giselle let out a weak chuckle in response, her body still tingling as she struggled to catch her breath. “That was… oh my god…” she whispered, her words trailing off into a soft sigh.

You approached with a quiet calm, your hands steady as you began to remove the clamps. Ningning flinched slightly as the pressure released, a gasp escaping her lips as the blood rushed back to the nubs. Giselle let out a low whimper as her clamps were removed, the absence of the sting leaving behind a bittersweet ache. The chain clinked softly as you set it aside, the delicate links gleaming under the light.

The room was silent for a moment, save for their heavy breathing. The faint scent of sweat and musk lingered in the air, a reminder of the intensity they had just shared. Slowly, you helped them off the Sybians, their legs shaky as they stood on unsteady feet. Their gazes met briefly, and in that moment, they shared a wordless connection—one of trust, vulnerability, and the profound bond forged through their shared journey.

The air is heavy with the scent of perfume mingled with the musky, unmistakable aroma of arousal, amplifying the intimacy of the moment. Your voice broke the silence, steady and inviting. “This entire evening began because there were questions. Uncertainties. I think it’s time we find some unforgettable answers.”

With a gesture, you beckoned them to follow. They obeyed, their movements tentative but eager as they stepped into the next space, their trust in you palpable.

The room they entered was a world unto itself, bathed in a soft, golden light that seemed to cast everything in a sensual glow. Shadows played along the walls, which were adorned with subtle, tasteful art hinting at themes of connection and exploration. The centerpiece of the room was the table—an object both functional and artful. It was designed with purpose, offering support and exposure in equal measure. Its smooth, cool surface gleamed under the light, and the padded leg rests positioned on either side made its intent unmistakable.

The air was cooler here, brushing against their bare skin as you gestured for them to move toward the table. The change in temperature heightened their awareness of every inch of their exposed bodies.

With their hands still securely tied behind their backs, you stepped closer, offering calm guidance. “Let me help you,” you murmured, your voice steady but soft. You lifted Ningning first, your hands firm but gentle as you supported her waist and carried her toward the edge of the table. She let out a soft gasp as her thighs brushed the cool surface. With care, you guided her legs into the padded rests on either side of the table. The gentle pressure of the rests spread her legs deliberately, leaving her fully exposed while providing enough support to keep her stable. Her bound hands rested against her lower back, the ropes pressing lightly into her skin as she adjusted to the vulnerable pose. Her chest rose and fell in shallow breaths, her arousal evident in the faint tremble of her body.

Next, you turned to Giselle, offering the same care and precision. Her flushed cheeks deepened in color as you approached, her gaze flicking briefly to Ningning before meeting yours. Without protest, she allowed you to lift her, her body pliant under your hands as you settled her beside Ningning. You guided her legs into the rests, positioning her with equal care. The deliberate spread of her thighs mirrored Ningning’s, the padded supports keeping her comfortably stable despite the exposure. The ropes binding her wrists brushed against her back, grounding her in the moment as her breathing quickened. A soft shiver passed through her as she adjusted to the position, the coolness of the table contrasting sharply with the heat blooming across her body.

The leg rests left them both completely open, their flushed folds glistening in the soft light with evidence of their earlier arousal. Their slightly reclined positions and bound wrists emphasized their vulnerability, making them acutely aware of their own exposure. The design of the table kept them secure yet unrestricted, every detail thoughtfully crafted to heighten their sensitivity.

Their gazes met across the table, their expressions a mix of embarrassment and curiosity, with undeniable arousal flickering in their eyes. The leg rests not only positioned them perfectly but also ensured they could see one another clearly—every curve, every trembling breath, every glisten of their shared vulnerability. This perspective forced them to confront not only their own openness but also the beauty of the other, creating a charged intimacy that crackled between them.

“Good,” you said softly, stepping back to take in the sight before you. Their spread legs, the sheen of sweat on their skin, and the soft flush painting their cheeks created a stunning tableau. “You’re both perfect like this.”

The praise sent visible shivers through their bodies, their breathing deepening as they settled into the moment. The tension in the room was palpable, each subtle movement and soft exhale amplifying the anticipation that enveloped them. The deliberate positioning, the careful exposure, and the warmth of your voice wrapped around them, leaving them completely immersed in the present.

From a nearby table, you reached for two butt plugs, their sleek surfaces already glistening with a generous coating of lubricant. The subtle gleam of the objects caught the soft light, drawing their attention. Your gaze flickered over both women as you held the plugs in your hands, your movements deliberate and calculated.

Starting with Giselle, you stepped beside her. Her bound hands rested behind her lower back, her body tense with anticipation. “Relax,” you murmured, your voice calm and soothing. Your hand rested firmly on the curve of her hip, grounding her as you brought the tip of the plug to her back entrance. The coolness of the metal met her warm, flushed skin, and she inhaled sharply, her body stiffening momentarily before yielding.

Her tight ring fluttered under the gentle pressure, the initial resistance giving way as you eased the plug inside with slow, deliberate movements. The sensation was unfamiliar but not unwelcome—a mix of stretch and fullness that sent a shiver through her. Giselle’s breathing quickened, a low moan slipping from her lips as her body adjusted. The weight of the plug settled deeply within her, the sensation of being filled creating a pulse of heat that spread to her core.

From her position, Ningning watched intently, her wide eyes fixed on the sight of the plug slipping into Giselle’s body. The intimacy of the moment left Ningning trembling, her lips parting as her own arousal deepened. A soft whimper escaped her, her thighs quivering as she anticipated her turn.

Giselle exhaled shakily as the plug settled fully into place, her cheeks flushed a deep crimson and her thighs trembling with the effort of holding still. “Good girl,” you murmured, your voice rich with approval. The tension in her shoulders eased, her body relaxing as she adjusted to the sensation. A soft moan escaped her lips, the fullness bringing a strange but exhilarating pleasure.

Turning your attention to Ningning, you moved beside her. Unlike Giselle, her body tensed visibly as you brought the plug to her entrance. Her tight ring quivered under the cool touch of the metal, her breaths quick and uneven. “Breathe,” you instructed gently, your free hand stroking the small of her back in soothing circles. “Relax. Let your body accept it.”

Ningning whimpered softly, her body resisting at first, but she focused on your voice, her breaths coming in slower, measured waves. With patient care, you applied gentle, consistent pressure, coaxing her to open for you. “That’s it,” you murmured, your tone low and encouraging. “You’re doing so well.”

Finally, with a soft, wet sound, the plug slipped inside, settling into place with a quick plop. Ningning gasped sharply, her body jerking slightly as she adjusted to the intrusion. The sensation was intense—a stretching, filling heat that left her trembling. Her head tilted forward, her cheeks burning with a mix of embarrassment and arousal. As she focused on her breathing, the tension in her muscles softened, and the unfamiliar weight of the plug began to sink in, igniting a low, persistent heat deep within her.

From across the table, Giselle’s gaze met Ningning’s, her lips parting in a small, knowing smile. The shared vulnerability in their expressions created an unspoken bond, their arousal deepening as they took in the sight of one another.

As their eyes lingered on each other, the plugs within them seemed to pulse in response to the visual stimulation. Ningning’s lips trembled as the subtle throb of fullness radiated through her, amplifying the heat already pooling between her thighs. Giselle’s cheeks flushed darker as her breathing quickened, the sensation of the plug sending shivers up her spine at the sight of Ningning’s wet folds and trembling thighs. Their bodies reacted in tandem, the intimacy of their shared position heightening the sensations coursing through them.

“Perfect,” you said, stepping back to admire the tableau before you. The sight of their flushed bodies, the plugs nestled snugly within them, and the glistening evidence of their arousal was nothing short of mesmerizing.

Your hands moved with purpose, brushing lightly along their inner thighs. The contrast of your warm skin against their cool flesh drew gasps from both of them, their hips shifting instinctively at the sensation. Ningning’s thighs quivered as she felt her wetness slick against her skin, while Giselle bit her lower lip to stifle a moan, her body trembling under your touch.

“Trust me to take you where you’ve never been before,” you said, your tone calm but firm, your presence a steady anchor in the storm of sensations flooding their bodies.

They nodded in unison, their gazes flicking briefly to the other’s exposed, flushed sex before returning to you. The sight of one another—the swollen, glistening evidence of their shared arousal and the plugs nestled intimately within—intensified their responses. Ningning’s lips parted, her breathing quick and shallow, as her hips lifted slightly, her arousal pooling beneath her. Giselle’s legs trembled visibly, her hands twitching faintly in their bindings as she struggled to maintain her position. The unspoken connection between them bound them tighter than any rope, their shared vulnerability becoming an electric force in the room.

You stood like a shadow of command, donned in sleek black gloves that seemed to absorb the dim light rather than reflect it. Every movement was deliberate, precise, as if you were an enigmatic conductor preparing to orchestrate a symphony of sensations. 

The room, bathed in a soft, ambient glow, felt alive with anticipation. The air was thick, a heady mix of warmth and the faint, musky scent of arousal that clung to the participants like a second skin. Every breath was heavier, every sound amplified, from the soft creak of the table to the slight rustle of fabric. Giselle and Ningning knelt in vulnerable expectation, their flushed faces glistening faintly in the subdued light, their eyes locked on you with a mixture of trepidation and eager surrender.

With the gloves flexing against your fingers, you moved closer, your gaze sharp and intent. “We’re raising the stakes,” you murmured, your voice low and commanding, sending a ripple of tension through the room. They watched, their lips parting as their breathing quickened, aware that the next moments would challenge their boundaries further.

The new clamps gleamed faintly in your hand, they’re longer, more elaborate designs promising a deeper sensation. You approached Ningning first, your gloved hand brushing over the soft, flushed curve of her breast as she let out a shaky breath. The room seemed to hold its breath as you secured the first clamp, the cool metal biting lightly into her sensitive peak. A soft gasp escaped her lips, the sting sharp but intoxicating, her body responding with a subtle shiver as the clamp tightened.

Giselle was next, her body tensing momentarily before she exhaled slowly, her chest rising toward your touch as you affixed the clamp to her. The device closed over her nipple with a firm click, its grip sending a wave of warmth radiating from the point of contact. Her lips parted as a low moan slipped out, her eyes fluttering shut for a brief moment as she adjusted to the sensation.

But the clamps alone weren’t your final act. With calculated precision, you introduced a weight suspended delicately between them, its polished surface gleaming faintly in the soft light. The fine rope connecting the clamps grew taut as the weight hung in balance, a silent promise of the delicate interplay between pleasure and pain. The shift in pressure elicited a duet of gasps from the two women, their bodies adjusting instinctively to the new, heavier sensation.

You weren’t finished. From your pocket, you produced two pairs of panties—the same ones they had given you earlier, now slightly crumpled but still heavy with the dampness of their earlier passion. The delicate fabric, saturated with their arousal, carried a potent, lingering scent that filled the air as you held them up. The sight alone made both women’s eyes widen, their breaths hitching as they recognized their most intimate garments.

Instead of returning the panties to their respective owners, you swapped them. Ningning’s panties, still soaked, were brought to Giselle’s lips. The soft fabric brushed against her mouth, the dampness transferring a hint of warmth to her flushed skin. Giselle opened obediently, her tongue grazing the material as she accepted it, her lips closing tightly around the fabric. A muffled moan escaped her, her cheeks darkening as the heady taste of Ningning’s arousal filled her senses.

Next, Giselle’s panties were turned toward Ningning. The sight made Ningning’s lips tremble, her gaze darting toward Giselle briefly before parting her mouth. The damp fabric slipped inside, brushing against her tongue and flooding her senses with the musky essence of her partner. A soft whimper escaped her, muffled by the gag as her thighs quivered against the table. The mingling sensations of taste, texture, and the intimate act itself sent a fresh wave of heat coursing through her body, leaving her breathless.

But you weren’t done. With calculated precision, you retrieved a fine rope and tied it securely to the weight that hung between their clamps. The other end of the rope was looped through the panties now acting as their gags, the tension creating a delicate balance. The setup ensured that the weight’s position depended entirely on their ability to keep the fabric held firmly in place with their mouths.

“Hold it,” you instructed, your voice calm but firm, commanding their full attention. “If you let go, the clamps will pull free. The choice is yours.”

The weight of your words sank in immediately. Their glossy eyes darted to the rope, then to each other, wide with a mixture of trepidation and arousal. A silent understanding passed between them, their bodies tensing as they adjusted to this new layer of challenge. Both nodded, their muffled breaths quickening as they accepted the stakes.

Ningning was the first to react, her thighs trembling as she tried to maintain her composure. The subtle pull of the weight tugged at her sensitive nipples, the clamps intensifying every small motion. Each jolt of sensation sent ripples of pleasure and sharp stings coursing through her, her muffled whimpers growing louder as she fought to steady herself. The fabric in her mouth teased her tongue, the lingering taste of Giselle’s arousal adding an almost surreal intimacy to her predicament.

Giselle fared no better, though she held herself with a fraction more control. She bit down firmly on the soft, damp fabric of Ningning’s panties, her lips tightening as the weight swayed faintly between them. Every movement created a delicate tension that sent sharp, electrifying pulses through her clamps. The stinging pleasure spread across her chest and down to her core, each shift adding to the heat pooling between her thighs. Her muffled moans were low and throaty, her breaths coming in shallow bursts as her body fought to adapt to the exquisite torment.

The air in the room grew thicker, heavy with the mingling scents of their arousal and the faint metallic tang of the clamps. The ambient lighting cast golden shadows on their trembling forms, highlighting every quiver, every subtle motion. Their glistening folds, slick with evidence of their arousal, shone under the warm light, small beads of moisture trailing down their inner thighs.

You stepped back slightly, your hands folded behind your back, watching with quiet satisfaction as the weight swayed gently between them. Every tremor in their bodies, every muffled moan, sent ripples of shared sensation through the taut rope, binding them together in a fragile but electric equilibrium. The rope connecting their mouths to the clamps created a symphony of tension—each motion resonating through their bodies, amplifying the moment.

“Beautiful,” you said softly, your tone filled with calm approval.

They responded with muffled moans, the vibrations resonating through the soaked fabric of their gags. Ningning’s hips shifted slightly, her thighs trembling as her arousal continued to build, pooling beneath her. A bead of moisture slipped down her inner thigh, drawing a low, muffled whimper from her lips. Giselle’s chest heaved as she focused on steadying her breath, her body shivering with each pull of the clamps, her muffled cries blending harmoniously with Ningning’s.

With the stage perfectly set, you turned your attention to the vibrators resting in your gloved hands. The sleek, smooth surfaces glinted faintly in the ambient light as your fingers moved over them with a deliberate precision, each motion infused with purpose. For a moment, there was a hush, a reverent stillness, as you prepared for the next act of this intimate composition.

You stepped closer, the faint hum of the weight’s sway and the soft rustle of rope filling the room. Giselle and Ningning’s flushed bodies trembled in anticipation, their gags muffling their shallow breaths as their glossy eyes darted between you and the objects in your hands. Their legs spread wider, their glistening folds exposed to the cool air, a stark contrast to the heat radiating from their cores.

With exquisite care, you placed the vibrators on the outer lips of their eager sexes, the cold touch of the devices drawing gasps from both women. Ningning shuddered visibly, her thighs quivering as the initial contact sent ripples of sensation through her. Giselle’s hips twitched slightly, her muffled whimper vibrating through the fabric in her mouth. The vibrators rested there like poised instruments, their presence a tantalizing promise.

Then, with a flick of your fingers, you brought the devices to life. The vibrators hummed softly at first, their song blending seamlessly with the tension-charged air. The sound resonated not just in the room but seemed to echo deep within the women’s cores, a prelude to the symphony you were carefully crafting.

The first waves of vibration were subtle but insistent, coaxing their bodies into movement. Ningning arched slightly, a muffled cry escaping her as the gentle pulsing teased her sensitive lips. Giselle exhaled sharply through her gag, her chest heaving as she adjusted to the sensations coursing through her. Their reactions were immediate, their hips shifting involuntarily as the vibrators’ rhythm built slowly.

With deft adjustments, you increased the intensity. The hum deepened, growing richer and more resonant, filling the space with its intoxicating song. The vibrations now pulsed in steady waves, syncing with the rhythm of the girls’ trembling bodies. Their breaths became shallow, the rise and fall of their chests mirroring the unrelenting tempo of the devices. Giselle’s moans grew louder, muffled yet urgent, as her hips pressed closer to the source of her pleasure. Ningning’s hands gripped the edges of the table, her knuckles white as her body strained against the ropes and clamps that bound her.

Your gaze never wavered, every detail of their responses etched into your awareness. You adjusted the settings with the precision of a seasoned conductor, attuned to the smallest shifts in their cries, the slightest quiver of their thighs. The vibrators pulsed harder, their relentless rhythm sending jolts of pleasure through their already overstimulated bodies. The once-quiet room now echoed with the melody of their muffled cries and the low, persistent hum of the devices, the sound forming an uninhibited symphony of desire.

The crescendo built steadily, the tension between them palpable. Their flushed folds glistened with arousal, the vibrations drawing out a slick warmth that heightened the intensity of every sensation. The scent of their musk filled the air, mingling with the faint metallic tang of the clamps and the subtle perfume lingering in the room. The heady aroma wrapped around them, amplifying the connection between mind and body.

As the devices continued their tireless pressure, you introduced a new layer to the symphony. Your gloved hands began a slow, deliberate journey along the insides of their thighs. The cool material of the gloves brushed against their overheated skin, the contrast sending shivers rippling through them. Ningning whimpered, her gag stifling the sound as her legs quaked under your touch. Giselle’s hips jerked involuntarily, her body seeking the pressure she so desperately needed.

Your fingertips danced along their sensitive skin, tracing the delicate curves of their inner thighs. Each caress was maddeningly gentle, a featherlight tease that left them yearning for more. The touch wasn’t enough to satisfy—it was a whisper of contact that promised release but kept it tantalizingly out of reach. The fine rope connecting their gags to the weight pulled taut with every movement, adding an extra layer of tension to their predicament.

Giselle’s hips twitched again, her body betraying her need for more. Her thighs clenched briefly, only to relax as the vibrations overwhelmed her once again. Ningning moaned softly around her gag, the sound vibrating through the fabric as her head tilted back, her eyes fluttering closed. Her fingers curled tighter against the table, her entire body stretched taut with unfulfilled desire.

Then, with a swift, decisive motion, your gloved fingers plunged into the molten heat of each woman, their slick arousal enveloping you as their bodies reacted immediately to the sudden intrusion. Giselle let out a shocked, muffled gasp, her back arching against the tension of the clamps. Ningning followed with a deeper, guttural moan, her hips jerking as her walls clenched tightly around your fingers.

“Ahhh… mmmph!” Giselle whimpered, her voice muffled by the fabric in her mouth, her thighs trembling as she adjusted to the dual onslaught of your fingers and the relentless hum of the vibrators.

“Mmm… ohhh,” Ningning cried, the panties in her mouth softening her desperate moans. Her body trembled violently, the tension in her thighs visible as she tried to hold steady against the overwhelming sensations.

Your hands worked with calculated precision, thrusting and curling in perfect harmony with the relentless rhythm of the vibrators. Every movement was deliberate, each touch aimed at stoking the fires within them. The wet, rhythmic sound of your thrusts mingled with their muffled cries and the hum of the vibrators, creating an erotic symphony that filled the room.

The air was thick with the scent of arousal, a heady musk mingled with the faint metallic tang of the clamps. Each breath was heavier, laden with anticipation and desire. The clamps tugged faintly with every motion, the delicate chains swaying and adding a constant sting that heightened their already overstimulated senses.

“Look at each other,” you whispered, your tone low but commanding, cutting through the haze of their ragged breathing. “See the ecstasy on your faces. This is real, and it’s happening to both of you.”

Their gazes lifted, hesitant and hazy with arousal, before locking onto one another. Giselle’s flushed cheeks and glazed eyes mirrored the same overwhelmed passion radiating from Ningning. In that shared moment, they saw themselves reflected in the other—the trembling thighs, the arch of their backs, the unrestrained pleasure in their moans.

“Mmm… Unnie…” Ningning whimpered, her voice muffled but still carrying the raw intensity of her feelings.

Giselle’s own muffled response came as her lips pressed tighter around the fabric, her eyes locking onto Ningning’s. “Mmm… you look… so good…” she moaned, her hips shifting as your fingers curled again, finding the spot that made her tremble uncontrollably.

The sight of each other—flushed, vulnerable, and writhing in synchronized bliss—heightened their arousal to dizzying heights. Their muffled cries grew louder, mingling as they surrendered completely to the sensations.

Your fingers moved with an intuitive rhythm, delving into their cores with the precision of an artist sculpting a masterpiece. The pads of your fingers grazed over their most sensitive spots, curling to press against hidden nerves that made their bodies jerk and spasm. When your thumb brushed over Ningning’s swollen nub, her body jolted, her muffled cry vibrating through her gag.

“Ahhh—ohhh!” she whimpered, her thighs trembling as the dual sensations pushed her closer to the edge. Her walls clenched tightly around your fingers, the slick heat enveloping you in a way that made each motion fluid and electrifying.

Giselle wasn’t far behind. The relentless thrusting and curling of your fingers sent waves of ecstasy radiating through her. “Mmmph… don’t stop!” she moaned, her voice vibrating against the fabric. Her body arched, her hips bucking involuntarily as she chased the release that was tantalizingly close.

The clamps tugged with every movement, the sharp sting blending seamlessly with the relentless pleasure coursing through their bodies. The vibrators pulsed harder, their rhythm unrelenting, and the room was alive with the symphony of muffled moans, gasps, and the slick sounds of your fingers working them toward their breaking points.

Their gazes remained locked, the intensity of their connection building with every shared moan and cry. They weren’t just watching each other—they were mirroring, feeling the same overwhelming sensations, tethered not just by the clamps and chains but by the raw intimacy of their shared experience.

“Don’t look away,” you murmured, your voice both commanding and soothing. “Stay with each other. Feel this together.”

Their cries grew more desperate, their bodies trembling violently as the crescendo neared. Each thrust of your fingers, each pulse of the vibrators, brought them closer to the inevitable. The moment hung in the air, electric and heavy, as their bodies teetered on the edge of release. The symphony of their pleasure filled the room, their connection deepening as they surrendered to the shared ecstasy.

Giselle, her once porcelain skin now glowing with vivid hues of arousal, was the first to succumb. The vibrator pressed firmly against her wet sex relentlessly, the rhythm an unyielding assault that synced perfectly with the precise thrusts and curls of your gloved fingers. Each calculated movement was designed to draw her closer to the edge, her body reacting with a raw, uncontrollable urgency. Her thighs trembled visibly, muscles quivering with the effort to hold still as her hips instinctively sought more pressure, more friction. The soft, relentless buzz of the vibrator sent deep, reverberating pulses through her core, unraveling her composure thread by thread.

Her breathing was uneven, sharp gasps escaping her parted lips as the waves of sensation coursed through her. Her chest heaved, the rise and fall of her breaths drawing attention to the beads of sweat trailing down her flushed skin. Each shiver, each arch of her back, was a testament to the unrelenting pleasure building within her.

Across from her, Ningning moaned softly against the gag between her lips, her muffled cries carrying an edge of desperation. The relentless rhythm of the vibrator pressed against her own slick folds mirrored Giselle’s torment, while your fingers worked her just as masterfully. Yet, even as her body writhed and arched under your touch, her gaze was fixed on Giselle. She couldn’t tear her eyes away from her partner’s unraveling—the way Giselle’s thighs quivered, her hips bucked, and her flushed cheeks glistened in the dim light.

The sight sent a jolt of shock and anticipation coursing through Ningning, heightening her own arousal. She whimpered against the gag, her muffled voice a mixture of awe and need as she watched Giselle’s mounting climax unfold. The connection between them—the shared vulnerability, the mirrored sensations—made every moment more intense, every touch and vibration more profound.

Giselle’s moans grew louder, sharper, her hips rocking desperately as she teetered on the brink. Her breaths turned shallow, her chest rising and falling rapidly as every muscle in her core pulled taut. The vibrator’s relentless hum dug deeper into her, and the precise thrusts of your fingers coaxed her closer and closer to release. Her body trembled violently, the tension building to an unbearable peak, so unbearable that…

She screamed.

It was raw, primal, and utterly unrestrained. The sound tore through the room like a thunderclap, shattering the fragile equilibrium and reverberating off the walls. The force of Giselle’s scream was so visceral, so forceful, that it dislodged the gag from her lips. The damp fabric fell away, dragging the taut rope with it.

The weight plummeted instantly, yanking the clamps from their places in one brutal, unrelenting motion. The sharp metallic clatter of the clamps hitting the table punctuated the moment, a harsh counterpoint to Giselle’s piercing cry. Her head snapped back, her body arching violently as the pain hit—a fiery, stinging jolt that lanced through her sensitive peaks.

The sudden movement caused the plug nestled inside her to shift, pressing deeper against her inner walls. The fullness was maddening, its weight tugging slightly with each convulsion of her body, adding a new layer of sensation that bordered on overwhelming. The plug pulsed with her every breath, each subtle motion an exquisite mix of pleasure and pressure that amplified the storm raging through her body.

Across from her, Ningning’s muffled cry of surprise transformed into a full-throated scream as the clamps tore from her nipples. The sudden, searing pain ripped through her chest, sending her body into a spasmodic convulsion. Her eyes flew wide, tears pooling at the corners as the shock merged seamlessly with the relentless pleasure from the vibrator and your skilled fingers. The plug nestled deep within her shifted with her movements, its girth pressing insistently against her sensitive inner walls. The sensation was inescapable—filling her completely, intensifying the uncontrollable quaking of her thighs.

Ningning’s body trembled as the sensation of fullness took hold, her muscles contracting around the plug as her hips bucked instinctively. Each motion sent it pressing against new nerve endings, the lubed surface gliding effortlessly but unrelentingly with every shift. Her breath hitched, a mix of sharp whimpers and guttural moans spilling from her lips as the combination of the vibrator, your touch, and the unyielding presence of the plug became too much.

The room was alive with their screams, their voices colliding and amplifying in the charged air. The sharp, fiery pain of the clamps’ removal didn’t detract from the pleasure—it magnified it, adding an edge that sent their senses into overdrive. Their trembling thighs pressed against the relentless buzz of the vibrators, their hips bucking uncontrollably as the sensations overwhelmed them. The plugs, nestled deep inside, provided a constant reminder of their complete surrender, amplifying every vibration, every contraction, every spasm of their bodies.

Their bodies convulsed violently, each arch and shudder a testament to the overwhelming collision of pain and pleasure. Their swollen, oversensitized peaks throbbed with every heartbeat, the absence of the clamps leaving their nerves exposed and ablaze. The plugs moved subtly with their contractions, nudging against sensitive spots that sent new waves of sensation coursing through them, adding depth to their uncontrollable responses.

The symphony of their cries filled the room, a raw and primal testament to the depth of their shared experience. Their voices echoed, weaving together into a cacophony of desperation and release, each sound layering onto the next. Their shared screams became the crescendo, building to the inevitable climax that would consume them both.

And then it happened.

You felt it first in the way their bodies tensed—a subtle tightening of their cores, an instinctive reaction as their climaxes surged forward like an unstoppable tide. The plugs inside them seemed to magnify the tension, each subtle movement adding to their unraveling. Their walls pulsed around your fingers and the unyielding plugs, gripping tightly in a telltale rhythm that signaled their impending eruption. Recognizing the moment, you withdrew your hands with deliberate speed, ensuring nothing obstructed the force of their release.

The dam within them burst, and from their cores erupted a torrent of liquid ecstasy. They squirted—streams of warm, clear fluid arcing through the air, an undeniable declaration of their release. The sight was mesmerizing, a luminous display of their bodies’ raw, unfiltered response. Each spurt carried the weight of their shared passion, the vulnerability of the moment laid bare in every glistening arc.

The liquid splashed against their trembling bodies, the warm essence coating their exposed, flushed sexes. The heat of their release mingled with the lingering vibrations of the devices, amplifying the intensity of their sensations. Ningning let out a choked gasp, her moan raw and unrestrained as her thighs quivered violently. The plug inside her seemed to amplify the sensation, pressing firmly as her body convulsed, each spasm sending it moving just enough to heighten her ecstasy.

Their streams weren’t contained to their bodies alone. The arcing jets crossed the space between them, spraying each other’s thighs and stomachs in a chaotic, sensual cascade. Ningning’s release splattered against Giselle’s trembling skin, streaking her flushed chest and dripping down her abdomen in warm rivulets. Giselle’s own torrent painted Ningning’s heaving stomach and thighs, droplets clinging to her glistening skin before sliding away in teasing trails.

The sheer force of their release left the table beneath them soaked, glistening with the evidence of their climaxes. Each surge seemed more powerful than the last, their bodies responding with an intensity that even you hadn’t fully anticipated. For a moment, you found yourself taken aback, a faint flicker of surprise passing through your otherwise composed demeanor as the sheer volume of their shared ecstasy unfolded before you.

The sprays didn’t stop at their bodies. Streams arced further than expected, warm droplets landing on the floor, the surrounding table, and even your arms as you steadied yourself near them. Some of their essence reached their faces, warm, saline splashes landing on lips and cheeks. Giselle’s tongue darted out instinctively, catching a droplet of Ningning’s release and tasting the faintly salty intimacy of their shared moment. Ningning, wide-eyed and trembling, whimpered as she felt the same—her tongue brushing against her lips and meeting the unmistakable flavor of Giselle’s climax. It wasn’t just a connection; it was a visceral, undeniable bond that transcended words.

Their bodies quivered uncontrollably, each wave of pleasure rolling through them in relentless succession. Giselle’s thighs quaked as her hips bucked against the relentless echoes of her climax, her hands gripping the edges of the table as though to anchor herself. Ningning, her cheeks streaked with her own release and Giselle’s, let out a soft, broken moan, her body trembling as the final spasms left her utterly spent.

The cries they let out echoed through the room, raw and primal, the acoustics amplifying every gasp and moan into a symphony of passion. The unrestrained music of their climaxes filled every corner, a harmony of desperation and release that seemed to resonate beyond the walls. Each sound, each trembling shudder wove together into a tapestry of sensory overload, a shared expression of the overwhelming pleasure that consumed them.

Even as their streams began to wane, smaller bursts continued to spatter against their already soaked skin. Ningning’s thighs were slick with her own release, her essence mingling with Giselle’s in a chaotic, intoxicating display of vulnerability and pleasure. Giselle’s chest heaved as she took in shuddering breaths, her flushed skin shimmering in the golden light as trails of liquid traced down her stomach and thighs.

Finally, the torrents subsided, leaving their glistening bodies sprawled and trembling. The table beneath them was slick, the evidence of their shared climaxes pooling in small rivulets that dripped to the floor. The air hung heavy with the heady, musky perfume of their arousal, the scent a tangible reminder of the intimacy they had just shared.

The stillness of the room was broken only by the sound of their shallow breaths. Giselle and Ningning lay limp, their flushed bodies trembling faintly as they came down from the intensity of their shared release. The faint sheen of sweat and evidence of their climax clung to their skin, a vivid testament to the raw passion they had just experienced.

You stepped closer, your movements deliberate and soothing, your presence grounding them in the aftermath of what had just transpired. Slowly, you reached down to Giselle first, your hand brushing lightly over her lower back as you murmured, “Breathe and relax.” Carefully, you began to ease the plug from her, the gentle but firm motion drawing a soft gasp from her lips as her tight ring fluttered around the intrusion. As the plug slipped free with a quiet pop, a small dribble escaped her slick folds, trailing down her trembling thighs. Giselle shivered at the sensation as she adjusted to the absence.

You took a moment, letting her breathe as you moved to her bound wrists. “You’ve done so well,” you said softly, untying the ropes with practiced care. As her arms were freed, she let out a small sigh of relief, her muscles trembling from the strain but grateful for the release. Her hands rested limply on her lap for a moment before she slowly began to flex her fingers, her expression a mix of exhaustion and contentment.

Turning to Ningning, you repeated the process, your hand resting reassuringly on her hip. “Easy,” you said gently, your voice a calming balm. Ningning’s body tensed slightly at first, her breaths uneven, but with your steady guidance, the plug slid free. A soft, wet sound accompanied its removal, and a glistening bead of arousal followed, slipping down to pool beneath her. She let out a shaky whimper, her cheeks burning with renewed embarrassment as she tried to steady herself.

You placed the plug aside before reaching for the ropes binding her hands. “Relax, Ningning,” you murmured, your fingers deftly working to undo the knots. Her hands fell free, her wrists showing faint marks from the ropes, though there was no discomfort in her expression—only a quiet, lingering warmth. She flexed her fingers tentatively, her gaze flicking toward yours with a dazed but grateful look.

For a moment, you let them rest, their bodies too spent to move. You crouched beside them, brushing damp strands of hair from their flushed faces, your touch gentle and grounding. Giselle tilted her head into your hand slightly, her eyes fluttering closed as if savoring the brief comfort. Ningning blinked up at you, her expression dazed but filled with quiet gratitude, her lips parting as though she wanted to speak but couldn’t yet find the words.

“Well done,” you murmured softly, your tone a mix of praise and reassurance. The weight of the moment lingered, heavy with intimacy and trust, as you let them bask in the quiet aftermath.

Finally, after a few beats of stillness, you straightened and offered your hands to each of them. “Come on,” you said, your voice steady but warm. “Let’s get you up.”

Giselle and Ningning each took your hand, their fingers weakly gripping yours as you helped them sit upright. Both winced slightly, the overstimulation evident in the soft, breathy gasps that escaped their lips. When they swung their legs over the edge of the table, they faltered, their knees wobbling beneath them as they tried to stand. You supported them gently, your hands steadying their arms as they leaned against you for balance, their bodies still trembling from the intensity of their shared experience.

“Whoa…” Ningning muttered, clutching your arm for balance. Giselle let out a shaky laugh as she leaned into you for support, her body still trembling. “I don’t think I can walk straight for a week,” she said, her voice light but still breathless.

“Take your time,” you assured them, your hands steadying their arms as they slowly found their footing. Once they were upright, you stepped back, giving them a moment to adjust.

“Thank you,” Giselle said, her voice soft but sincere, her cheeks flushed not just from exertion but from a lingering sense of awe. Ningning nodded in agreement, her lips curving into a faint, grateful smile as she echoed, “Yeah… thank you.”

Ningning turned her head slightly, her half-lidded eyes catching Giselle’s. A faint, breathless laugh escaped her lips. “That… was incredible,” she murmured, her voice shaky but filled with awe. Giselle, still catching her breath, managed a soft smile, her cheeks deepening in color as she nodded in agreement. Words seemed insufficient, the intensity of the moment lingering between them, heavy and unspoken.

You stepped forward, your movements deliberate but calming, your voice soft yet firm. “You’ve both done wonderfully,” you said, your tone carrying an unmistakable note of pride. “It’s over now. You’ve experienced all you came for.”

The words hung in the air, settling over them like the final note of a beautiful symphony. For a moment, both women seemed to process the finality, their breaths still uneven, their flushed faces reflecting a mixture of contentment and loss. An emptiness where the intensity had burned now lingered in its place, raw and unfamiliar. They exchanged a glance, a silent understanding passing between them, before Ningning spoke, her voice hesitant but filled with newfound boldness.

“I don’t want it to be over,” she admitted, her cheeks flushing deeper as she struggled to maintain eye contact. “I don’t even know how to describe how I feel right now, but I want… more.”

Giselle nodded, her voice low but steady. “You’ve given us something unforgettable. We want to thank you—properly. Not just with words.”

Your eyebrows raised slightly, though your expression remained composed. A flicker of reluctance passed over your face before you replied, your voice calm but softer, tinged with sincerity. “That’s not necessary,” you said. “This was always about you—your experience, your journey. There’s no need to thank me.”

The two women didn’t falter, their gazes locked on yours with earnest determination. Ningning leaned forward slightly, her voice trembling with a mix of nerves and excitement. “We want it,” she said, the quiet intensity of her words ringing out. Giselle echoed her sentiment with a soft, “Please,” her lips parting slightly as her eyes gleamed with certainty.

You studied them for a moment, your expression thoughtful. Then, giving a slight nod, your demeanor shifted from instructor to something warmer, more inviting. “If it’s something you truly want…” you began, your voice deepening with an edge of authority that sent a shiver through them, “then it’s a possibility.”

Their faces brightened with anticipation, their flushed cheeks deepening as they exchanged a quick glance. With a steady breath, you gestured toward the door. “Follow me.”

You extended a hand, and they took it eagerly, their legs still trembling as they stood. You led them through another doorway, the atmosphere shifting subtly as the space opened into a luxurious room. The centerpiece was a large, inviting bed draped in soft, elegant linens. The lighting was warm and intimate, the scent of fresh linen mingling with the lingering musk of their arousal.

They exchanged a glance, a silent conversation passing between them, before their attention turned fully to you. With a mix of boldness and reverence, their hands moved toward you, beginning the process of undressing you. Ningning’s fingers were the first to find the buttons of your shirt, her movements slow and deliberate as she worked her way downward, her gaze flickering upward to meet yours. Giselle followed suit, her hands trailing lightly across your shoulders as she slid the fabric away, leaving your chest bare.

The room seemed to hold its breath as their hands continued, working in unison to undo your belt and ease your pants down with careful precision. They paused briefly, their eyes traveling over your now-exposed form, and a shared breath escaped them, a soft sound of awe and anticipation.

Wordlessly, you guided them forward, stepping out of the last remnants of your clothing and moving to the bed. You settle onto your back with deliberate ease, the soft linens cool against your heated skin. Their eyes followed you closely, the intensity in their gazes growing as they climbed onto the bed, each taking a position on either side of your legs.

They hesitated for just a moment, their eyes meeting once again in silent understanding before turning back to you. The air between the three of you was thick with anticipation, the intimacy of the moment stretching taut as they prepared to continue.

The room seemed to hum with the charged energy between the three of you. Giselle moved first, her confidence shining as she leaned forward, her lips parting. Warm breath ghosted over your tip before her tongue flicked out, her first touch tentative but deliberate. She began with slow, exploratory movements, her lips pressing softly as her tongue traced deliberate paths. Her hands rested firmly on your thighs, steadying herself as her rhythm built.

Ningning watched closely, her wide eyes fixed on Giselle’s movements, her breath catching as she took it all in. After a moment, she joined in, her hesitation evident in her softer, more delicate approach. Her lips brushed lightly against your member, a tentative kiss that quickly deepened as her tongue followed, her confidence growing with every touch. Her hands mirrored Giselle’s, settling on your other thigh as she sought to match her partner’s rhythm.

The contrast between them was intoxicating—Giselle’s firm, deliberate strokes complemented by Ningning’s softer, more exploratory touch. Their lips and tongues alternated, each adding their own unique intensity to the experience. Sometimes their movements overlapped, their tongues brushing against one another as they worked in tandem. The accidental contact of their lips, faint and fleeting, sent a ripple of warmth through all three of you, heightening the intimacy of the moment.

As their synchronization improved, their rhythm became seamless. Giselle’s confident strokes guided Ningning’s more delicate approach, and together they created a dynamic harmony. Their lips sometimes pressed against one another as they adjusted their positions, their shared focus blurring the lines between their individual efforts. The wet, rhythmic sounds of their tongues and lips filled the room, punctuated by their soft, muffled moans.

You placed a hand on each of their heads, your fingers threading gently through their hair, guiding them closer as they worked. The warmth of their mouths enveloped you, their tongues gliding and flicking with growing intensity. “You girls are amazing,” you murmured, your voice thick with approval. The praise spurred them on, their movements growing more deliberate as they leaned into the moment.

Giselle glanced up briefly, her gaze meeting yours with a glint of pride before she redoubled her efforts. Her lips pressed firmly, her tongue moving with deliberate precision as she explored every inch of your shaft. Each stroke was confident, her focus unwavering as she worked with practiced grace. Ningning, inspired by Giselle’s lead, grew bolder in her own movements. Her lips and tongue mirrored Giselle’s rhythm at first, but after a brief pause, she shifted her focus.

With a soft hum of approval, Ningning trailed lower, her lips brushing over the sensitive skin of your base before moving to your balls. Her tongue darted out tentatively at first, tracing slow, delicate circles that sent a subtle shiver through your body. Encouraged by the reaction, she grew bolder, her lips wrapping around one side as her tongue continued its exploration. The warmth and softness of her mouth contrasted perfectly with the firmer, more focused pressure of Giselle’s movements above.

The dynamic between them shifted into something even more enthralling. Giselle maintained her focus on the shaft, her tongue gliding over the cock with deliberate care, alternating between firm strokes and teasing flicks that left your body humming with sensation. Meanwhile, Ningning lavished attention on your balls, her lips and tongue moving in gentle, rhythmic motions. The combination of their efforts created an intoxicating duality—the firm, deliberate touch above and the soft, warm caress below.

Occasionally, their coordination brought them close enough that their lips brushed faintly against one another, a fleeting contact that only deepened the intimacy of the moment. The gentle friction of their mouths meeting, even briefly, sent a spark of warmth radiating through you, adding another layer of connection to their synchronized devotion.

Your hands remained on their heads, fingers threading gently through their hair as their efforts intensified. Giselle’s moans vibrated against your shaft, each stroke of her tongue more deliberate and precise as she sensed the growing tension in your body. Below, Ningning’s quieter, reverent whimpers continued as her mouth explored your sensitive base. Her tongue traced languid circles, her lips warm and soft as they enveloped one side and then the other, her gentle rhythm a perfect counterpoint to Giselle’s focused attention.

Their coordination was seamless, a perfect harmony of passion and purpose. Giselle’s lips tightened, her pace quickening slightly, while Ningning pressed more firmly against you, her hands gripping your thighs for balance. The wet sounds of their tongues, the heat of their mouths, and the occasional gentle friction when their lips brushed against one another created an intoxicating symphony of sensations. Each flick of their tongues, each press of their lips, sent waves of pleasure coursing through your body.

The intensity grew, your muscles tightening as you felt yourself approach the edge. “I’m close,” you murmured, your voice thick with the weight of the moment. The words hung in the air, a signal that spurred them both into action.

Giselle slowed her pace slightly, pulling back just enough to meet Ningning’s gaze. Her eyes sparkled with mischief and understanding as she reached down, her fingers brushing Ningning’s cheek. With a gentle but deliberate touch, she guided Ningning upward, encouraging her to take the lead.

Ningning hesitated for only a heartbeat before following Giselle’s lead, her lips parting as she moved to take your release. Giselle’s hand lingered on Ningning’s jaw for a moment, a silent gesture of encouragement, before she settled back slightly, her lips brushing against Ningning’s cheek as they passed.

As Ningning wrapped her soft lips fully around you, Giselle shifted her focus lower, her movements deliberate and exploratory. Her lips pressed against the sensitive skin at the base of your length, trailing lower, her hot breath ghosting over your skin. Slowly, she descended further, her tongue darting out to taste and tease the delicate area. Her exploration didn’t stop there—her lips found the sensitive ring of muscle below, and she paused for only a moment before pressing her tongue against it.

The first touch of Giselle’s tongue was tentative, a light flick that sent a shiver rippling up your spine. Your body tensed reflexively at the unexpected sensation, and a sudden, involuntary twitch coursed through you, pressing deeper into Ningning’s mouth. She gasped softly around your cock, her lips stretching slightly as her eyes widened in surprise. The movement only seemed to spur her on, her tongue stroking with renewed determination as she adjusted to the change.

The sensation of Giselle’s tongue was electrifying, her warm, wet strokes contrasting sharply with the cool air of the room. As she grew bolder, her tongue moved in slow, deliberate circles around your entrance, teasing the sensitive nerve endings there. Each lap was firm and exploratory, her lips sealing softly against your skin as she alternated between gentle strokes and firmer presses. Her low, muffled hums of satisfaction reverberated through you, intensifying the already overwhelming sensations.

Above, Ningning’s mouth enveloped you with unrelenting heat. Her tongue moved with purpose, circling and stroking with a rhythm that deepened the connection between her and the act itself. Her soft moans vibrated against your length, the vibrations sending shocks of pleasure through your body. Her hands rested lightly on your thighs, her fingers clenching slightly with every twitch and thrust, her arousal mirrored in her every action.

The dual sensations were almost too much to bear. The wet heat of Ningning’s mouth surrounding you, paired with the rhythmic lapping of Giselle’s tongue at your most sensitive entrance, sent shockwaves of pleasure cascading through your body. Every nerve felt alive, ignited by their synchronized efforts. Your hips instinctively rocked forward, driven by the intensity of the pleasure building within you. The contrast between Ningning’s focused, deliberate rhythm and Giselle’s teasing, exploratory movements created a synergy that pushed you to the brink.

The throaty hum of Giselle’s muffled moans as she worked only heightened the experience, the vibrations reverberating through your core. At the same time, Ningning’s lips slid down your cock with an almost reverent focus, her tongue pressing firmly and swirling along the underside in perfect harmony. The combined sensations left you entirely at their mercy, your breaths coming in ragged gasps as the overwhelming pleasure built to an unbearable crescendo.

“Oh, fuck… I’m cumming!” The words tore from your throat, raw and unrestrained, as your body stiffened in response to the tidal wave of pleasure surging through you. Your hips bucked reflexively, driving deeper into Ningning’s warm, wet mouth, while Giselle’s tongue pressed harder against your sensitive entrance, intensifying every nerve-ending’s response.

Loud, guttural grunts and moans escaped you in quick succession, each sound a testament to the sheer intensity of your release. Your voice reverberated through the room, blending with the wet, rhythmic sounds of Ningning’s mouth and Giselle’s deliberate movements. The primal force of your climax left you momentarily unguarded, your vocalizations echoing with abandon.

When the release came, it was powerful and unrestrained. A moan escaped Ningning as the warmth of your climax surged into her mouth. She froze momentarily, her eyes fluttering open with a startled glint before they softened again, her lips tightening instinctively to hold the full weight of your release. The heat filled her mouth, thick and overwhelming, her body trembling slightly from the intensity of the moment. She didn’t swallow—her cheeks puffed slightly as she held it, her chest rising and falling with shallow breaths.

Below, Giselle continued her slow, purposeful movements, her tongue still teasing and lapping as if savoring every reaction she drew from you. The lingering sensations were amplified by the combination of Ningning’s focused efforts above and Giselle’s meticulous attention below. The two of them worked in perfect harmony, each touch and movement adding to the unrelenting tide of pleasure that left you utterly undone.

As Ningning began to pull back, a small thread of your release slipped past her lips, streaking down her chin in a glistening trail. Giselle, quick to act, leaned forward with a tender tilt of Ningning’s chin. Her lips captured Ningning’s in a deep, sensual kiss, the act as intimate as it was deliberate. Their tongues met immediately, intertwining in a slow, exploratory dance as Giselle shared in the taste of you.

The kiss deepened, their movements unhurried yet passionate, each of them savoring the shared essence between them. Their lips glistened, the faint, wet sound of their tongues mingling filling the air as the room seemed to hold its breath. Giselle’s hand slid gently to the back of Ningning’s neck, holding her close as they exchanged every drop of your release, the warmth and saltiness a tangible reminder of their connection to you and to each other.

When they finally parted, a faint string of saliva and release still connected their lips, breaking only when they exchanged a final, gentle flick of their tongues. Their eyes met, a mixture of satisfaction and unspoken understanding passing between them. A subtle flush deepened their cheeks, and with a silent agreement, they each tilted their heads back slightly and swallowed half, the deliberate action slow and sensual.

The soft sound of their throats working in unison punctuated the quiet of the room, a shared act that carried both reverence and intimacy. When they turned their attention back to you, their gazes held a newfound confidence, their breaths uneven but steady as they smiled—content and radiant, their connection with you and with each other now etched into the memory of this profound moment. Their glistening lips, flushed skin, and languid postures spoke volumes, a testament to the depth of the shared experience and the bond it had forged between the three of you.

As the moment of stillness settled, Giselle’s gaze lingered on you, a spark of playful determination flickering in her eyes. Without breaking the charged silence, she moved with deliberate grace, shifting her position. Rising to her knees, she swung a leg over your chest, her movements fluid and confident, until she was poised above your face. The intoxicating scent of her arousal filled your senses as she slowly lowered herself toward you.

Simultaneously, Ningning moved with equal intent, positioning herself at your hips. Her hands guided your cock into place with a mix of precision and eagerness, the warmth of her touch electrifying. As she slid you inside her, a low, throaty moan escaped her lips, her head tilting back as her body adjusted to the fullness. The tight, wet heat of her walls enveloped you completely, her hips rocking experimentally as she found her rhythm.

Your mouth met Giselle’s waiting heat with deliberate intensity, your tongue darting out to taste her. She gasped softly, her thighs trembling as she pressed herself against you, her hands gripping the headboard for balance. Each flick of your tongue sent ripples of pleasure through her, her moans cascading down to mingle with the sounds of Ningning’s gasps and the rhythmic slap of skin on skin as she rode you. Giselle’s movements grew bolder, her hips grinding against your mouth, the wetness of her arousal coating your lips and tongue as you worked to bring her higher.

Ningning, meanwhile, moved with increasing fervor, her hips undulating as she took your cock deeper with each thrust. The sensation of fullness sent shivers up her spine, her moans growing louder as she adjusted to the rhythm of your movements. Her hands rested on your chest for support, her nails digging lightly into your skin as the sensation built within her.

The room was alive with the sounds of pleasure—Giselle’s breathy cries as your tongue found her most sensitive spots, Ningning’s desperate moans as she rode you, and the wet, rhythmic sounds of their shared arousal. The heat between the three of you was palpable, an all-encompassing intimacy that left no part of the moment untouched.

Their gazes met across the expanse of your body, each watching the other with unrestrained arousal. Giselle’s lips parted, her flushed cheeks deepening as she locked eyes with Ningning, who mirrored her expression with wide-eyed awe. The sight of each other’s pleasure only seemed to spur them on, their moans becoming more urgent, their movements more synchronized.

Giselle’s hips pressed harder against your face, her thighs quivering as she chased her climax. “Oh… yes,” she murmured breathlessly, her voice trembling as your tongue continued its relentless work. Above you, her chest heaved, her hands gripping the headboard tighter as her body began to tremble.

Below, Ningning’s rhythm grew erratic, her movements desperate as she leaned forward, her forehead brushing lightly against Giselle’s arm as her own release neared. The connection between them—the shared sounds, the exchanged glances, the mirrored vulnerability—heightened the intensity for all three of you.

Your hips met Ningning’s movements with deliberate thrusts, driving her wild with each upward motion. Simultaneously, your tongue flicked and pressed against Giselle’s most sensitive spots, her cries growing louder as she tilted her head back, completely lost in the moment. The three of you moved in perfect sync, an unspoken harmony that left the room bathed in the raw, unfiltered sound of shared passion.

Giselle’s cries grew louder, her hips grinding more insistently against your mouth as her body quivered. Each flick of your tongue sent electric shivers coursing through her, her arousal pooling and dripping down onto your lips and chin. Above, her thighs trembled with the strain of holding herself upright, her fingers gripping the headboard so tightly that her knuckles turned white. “Oh—yes! Just like that!” she gasped, her voice breaking as she teetered on the edge.

Ningning was lost in her own spiral of pleasure, her hips rolling in erratic, desperate movements as she took your cock deeper with every thrust. The wet, rhythmic slap of your bodies echoed through the room, mingling with her breathy moans. Her hands pressed into your chest, her nails dragging lightly against your skin as she leaned forward, her forehead brushing against Giselle’s arm. Her voice was shaky but insistent, punctuated by gasps. “I can’t… I’m so close!” she whimpered, her slick heat clenching tightly around you.

As your tongue worked relentlessly against Giselle, your hands moved instinctively, your body attuned to their needs. Blindly, one hand slid down Ningning’s trembling body, your fingertips brushing against the swollen nub at her center. The instant contact made her gasp sharply, her hips bucking as your fingers began to circle her clit with deliberate pressure. The soft, slick heat beneath your hand pulsed with need, and her cries grew louder as the added stimulation pushed her closer to the brink.

Simultaneously, your other hand snaked upward, your fingers finding Giselle’s own sensitive nub above you. Your touch was firm but controlled, matching the rhythm of your tongue as it flicked and pressed against her. Her thighs trembled violently as her moans turned into incoherent cries, her body reacting to the dual assault of your mouth and fingers. “Oh my God—yes!” she cried out, her voice trembling with desperation as her pleasure soared.

The connection between them heightened the intensity, their gazes locking in an unspoken challenge as they each fought to hold on, to chase their climaxes together. Giselle’s flushed face was streaked with sweat, her hair sticking to her temples as she rocked against your mouth. Ningning, her lips parted and eyes heavy-lidded, couldn’t stop herself from stealing glances at Giselle, the sight of her friend’s pleasure fueling her own.

Your fingers moved in perfect sync with your other actions—pressing, circling, and teasing their most sensitive spots with unwavering precision. The added stimulation sent their bodies into overdrive, the tension in the room reaching a fever pitch. Ningning’s thighs quivered uncontrollably, her moans turning into frantic cries, while Giselle’s grip on the headboard tightened further as her hips bucked wildly against your face.

“Unnie—look at me,” Ningning gasped, her voice breaking with urgency. Giselle’s head tilted downward, her glazed eyes meeting Ningning’s as they shared a moment of raw connection. Seeing the desperation mirrored in each other’s faces was the final push they needed.

Giselle’s climax struck first, her body jerking violently as she let out a scream that echoed through the room. Her thighs clamped around your head as her hips bucked, her release flooding over your tongue in warm, powerful surges. She gasped and moaned, the cries spilling out of her uncontrollably as she gave in to the overwhelming pleasure.

Moments later, Ningning followed. Her walls clenched around you, tight and insistent, as her climax erupted. Her body convulsed, her moans turning into desperate, breathless cries. “Oh, God—yes, yes!” she screamed, her hips jerking wildly as her release poured over you. The warmth and tightness of her pulsating core became the tipping point, the overwhelming pleasure building to an uncontrollable crescendo.

Your hips bucked instinctively, your movements deep and deliberate as the pressure within you surged forward. With a guttural moan, your release came, spilling deep inside Ningning as her walls fluttered and pulsed around you, her body seeming to draw every last drop from you. The sensation sent waves of electricity through your body, your climax prolonged by the sheer intensity of the moment.

The force of your release triggered a reflexive sound, a deep, raw moan that reverberated through the room. Giselle, still trembling in the aftershocks of her climax, felt the vibrations through her connection to you. The sound seemed to ripple through her, igniting an unexpected wave of pleasure that caused her to cry out once more, her body arching as an aftershock tore through her already sensitive nerves.

Ningning gasped at the sensation of your warmth inside her as her trembling walls milked you for every drop, her body convulsing as her cries turned into soft whimpers., her head tilting back as her hips rocked involuntarily, drawing out every ounce of the shared moment. Her breathing was ragged, her body trembling as her climax merged seamlessly with yours, leaving her utterly spent.

And then, like a pleasurable déjà vu, their bodies, already trembling from the force of their orgasms, arched simultaneously as a second wave overtook them. Streams of warm, clear liquid erupted from their cores, their squirting an undeniable affirmation that the first time wasn’t a fluke. Giselle’s release showered over your face, mingling with the wetness already there, while Ningning’s sprayed against your hips and thighs, the force splashing onto Giselle’s legs as well.

The air hung heavy with the scent of arousal and sweat, the room drenched in the evidence of your shared passion. Giselle finally collapsed forward, her body spent as she leaned heavily against the headboard, her chest heaving as she tried to catch her breath. Ningning followed suit, sinking against your chest, her trembling hands resting lightly on your shoulders.

The three of you remained entwined, the quiet punctuated only by the sound of your slowing breaths. Their bodies were slick with sweat, their flushed faces radiant as they exchanged a tired but satisfied smile. It wasn’t just the act itself but the undeniable bond you had forged that left an indelible mark on all three of you.

As the final tremors subsided and the intensity of the moment gave way to stillness, Giselle was the first to move. Her breathing still labored, she carefully shifted off your face, her legs unsteady but strong enough to carry her. Her flushed skin glistened in the warm light, her chest rising and falling as she ran a hand through her damp hair, trying to steady herself. A satisfied smile played on her lips, but her movements were measured, deliberate—a sharp contrast to the state of her companion.

Ningning, however, was visibly more affected. Her body quivered as she slowly lifted herself from your hips, her thighs trembling uncontrollably with every movement. She sank onto the bed beside you, dazed and breathless, her flushed cheeks and glassy eyes a testament to the intensity she had endured. Her hands trembled as she tried to adjust her posture, her body too overwhelmed to fully cooperate.

Giselle noticed immediately, her smile softening as she leaned closer to Ningning, her hand reaching out to brush a stray strand of hair from her friend’s face. “Hey, you okay?” Giselle murmured, her tone gentle but filled with concern. She wrapped an arm around Ningning’s shoulders, pulling her close in an attempt to soothe her. Ningning nodded faintly, her lips parting as if to speak, but no words came. Instead, she rested her head against Giselle’s shoulder, her body still trembling slightly as she leaned into the comfort.

You moved with quiet care, sitting up and reaching out to rest a hand on each of them. Your voice was low and calming as you addressed them both. “You did beautifully,” you said softly, your hands offering a grounding presence. “You’re both incredible.”

Giselle gave a small, grateful smile, her hand rubbing soothing circles against Ningning’s back as she glanced at you. “Thank you,” she said, her voice steady despite the lingering exhaustion. “I don’t think we’ll ever forget this.”

Ningning’s eyes fluttered open, and after a moment, she echoed Giselle’s words with a faint, breathy whisper. “Thank you.” Her voice was trembling, but there was no mistaking the sincerity behind it. Her gaze drifted to you, still dazed but filled with gratitude.

As the minutes passed, the remnants of their aftershocks began to fade, leaving them both calmer and more composed. They moved slowly, helping each other sit upright as they prepared to dress. Their movements were tender and unhurried, an unspoken bond evident in the way Giselle steadied Ningning, offering a guiding hand whenever her balance wavered.

Once they were dressed, they turned to you one last time. Giselle, still steady and confident, spoke first. “Thank you again—for everything. This was… more than we could have imagined.” Her expression was filled with warmth, and she nodded firmly, as if solidifying the memory.

Ningning, though still leaning slightly against Giselle for support, managed a soft smile. Her nod came slower, her dazed eyes meeting yours briefly before her gaze drifted downward, her exhaustion still evident. “Thank you,” she repeated, her voice quiet but filled with sincerity.

You returned their smiles, your tone professional but warm. “You were both wonderful to work with. I hope you’ll consider coming back in the future. It’s been an absolute pleasure guiding you through this experience.”

Giselle nodded eagerly, her smile widening. “Absolutely,” she said, her enthusiasm clear. Ningning followed with a slower, smaller nod, her lingering haze making her response quieter but no less heartfelt.

You glanced toward the facilities with a small apologetic shrug. “Unfortunately, the shower is unavailable tonight. I’m sorry for the inconvenience.”

Giselle waved the comment off with a laugh, her arm tightening around Ningning’s waist as they leaned into each other. “It’s okay,” she said lightly. “I think we’re good.”

Ningning hummed softly in agreement, her head resting against Giselle’s shoulder as they made their way toward the exit. Their steps were slow, their bodies leaning heavily on one another for support, but there was no mistaking the contentment in their shared posture. As they passed through the doorway, arm in arm, their laughter and whispered words faded into the distance, leaving behind an air of fulfilled intimacy and a bond that would linger long after the night ended.

The cool night air embraced them as they stepped outside, a stark contrast to the heat and intensity of the room they had just left. The crisp breeze kissed their flushed skin, sending a shiver through their bodies that brought a hint of grounding. Yet, despite the coolness of the air, the warmth of what had just transpired lingered, leaving their minds spinning.

Ningning clung to Giselle’s arm as they walked, her steps unsteady and her legs trembling beneath her. Her face was still flushed, her breath uneven, and her eyes dazed as if she were trying to process what had happened. Giselle, steadier but no less affected, kept an arm wrapped securely around Ningning’s waist, her own body swaying slightly with each step as they leaned on one another for support.

“I…” Ningning’s voice came out soft and trembling, almost as if she were speaking to herself. “I can’t believe we actually… squirted.” She blinked slowly, her wide eyes darting to Giselle, her words trailing off into the cool night air. “Not just once—but twice.” Her cheeks flushed even deeper as she said it, the disbelief thick in her tone. “For real. That actually happened.”

Giselle let out a breathy laugh, her lips curving into a dreamy smile. “Me neither,” she admitted, shaking her head as if to clear it. Her voice softened, her gaze distant as her words slowed. “That… that was the best orgasm I’ve ever had. Hands down.” She glanced at Ningning, her smile widening as a faint blush crept up her cheeks. “I don’t even know how to describe it—it was just… perfect.”

Ningning nodded, though her movements were sluggish, her body still trembling faintly. “Same,” she whispered, her voice hurried but tinged with awe. “I didn’t even know my body could… do that.” She let out a shaky breath, her fingers gripping Giselle’s sleeve for balance. 

They both laughed, the sound light and filled with a mixture of disbelief and wonder. Giselle tightened her arm around Ningning, steadying her as their legs wobbled slightly beneath them. The intimacy of what they had shared was palpable, creating a bond that felt unshakable, as if the experience had fused something deeper between them. Words felt almost unnecessary; the shared memory spoke volumes.

As they strolled down the dimly lit street, their earlier laughter began to fade, replaced by a contemplative silence. The golden glow of the streetlights bathed the path ahead, casting long, swaying shadows that moved in rhythm with their steps. Giselle crossed her arms tightly against her chest, bracing herself against the crisp night air seeping through her clothes. Despite the chill, her expression remained soft, her thoughts clearly elsewhere. Beside her, Ningning adjusted her jacket with slow, fumbling hands, her flushed cheeks and unfocused gaze revealing her preoccupation. Flashes of the evening seemed to replay behind her eyes, each memory drawing her further into her own quiet reflection.

When they reached the corner of their block, their synchronized footsteps faltered. They both froze, their gazes snapping to the opposite side of the street. Emerging from the shadows under the muted glow of the next streetlight were two familiar figures: Karina and Yunjin.

Instinctively, Giselle and Ningning moved closer to the edge of the sidewalk, their eyes locked onto the pair. Karina and Yunjin’s presence felt almost surreal. The two moved in unison, their steps light and easy, their laughter floating softly into the quiet night. Yunjin leaned into Karina’s side, her arm looped loosely around her, her expression radiating a confident ease. Karina’s lips curled into a faint, knowing smile as Yunjin whispered something that made her chuckle softly, their connection palpable even from a distance.

The direction of their path, however, was unmistakable. They were headed toward the same discreet entrance Giselle and Ningning had only just left. The heavy door loomed in the distance, barely noticeable to anyone unfamiliar, yet its significance was impossible to ignore.

Frozen in place, Giselle and Ningning exchanged a quick, wide-eyed glance, their unspoken thoughts mirrored in each other’s faces. They stood in silence, their breathing shallow, as Karina and Yunjin slipped through the door. The soft click of it closing behind them echoed in the stillness, as though punctuating a realization neither of them wanted to put into words.

No words were necessary. In that shared glance between them, everything was understood: the disbelief, the reluctant acceptance, and the strange comfort of knowing their personal experience wasn’t as unique as they had thought. Whatever had drawn them there clearly extended beyond their own curiosity—a thread of something universal, intimate, and quietly thrilling.

Without speaking, they turned and resumed their walk, their steps slower now, their pace deliberate as the surreal encounter lingered between them. The air seemed heavier, their thoughts weaving unspoken questions and answers into the night.

The faint sound of their laughter returned after a while, but it was softer, tinged with awe and a touch of disbelief. They moved in step with each other, letting the moment settle as they headed home, the night leaving its quiet mark on their still-racing minds.

-----

When they arrived back at the apartment, the faint glow from the living room spilled into the hallway. Giselle hesitated at the door, her fingers trembling slightly as she unlocked it. Ningning shifted beside her, her legs wobbly and her cheeks still flushed, mirroring Giselle’s expression. They exchanged a glance—nervous, uncertain, and still overwhelmed—before stepping inside.

Minjeong was lounging on the couch, her legs tucked beneath her and a tub of ice cream balanced on one knee. At the sound of the door, she looked up casually, her expression neutral for a moment before a slow, knowing smile crept across her face. She set the ice cream aside, tilting her head as her gaze swept over Giselle and Ningning.

Their clothes were rumpled, unevenly tucked, and their hair was a mess, clinging to their damp foreheads. A faint sheen of sweat still glimmered on their flushed skin, paired with the heavy, unmistakable scent of musk and arousal clinging to them. It was all the confirmation Minjeong needed.

“Well, well,” she said, leaning back into the couch and crossing her arms. “Look who’s back.”

Giselle froze, her eyes darting anywhere but at Minjeong’s smug expression as she clumsily shrugged off her jacket. Ningning fidgeted beside her, wringing the hem of her shirt with trembling hands, her blush deepening by the second. The air between them felt heavy, suffused with the weight of shared secrets.

Minjeong’s smirk widened, her tone playful but dripping with amusement. “So,” she began, letting the word hang tantalizingly in the air, “do you believe me now?”

The question hit like a challenge, undeniable and loaded. Ningning blinked rapidly, her flush spreading all the way to her ears as she stammered, “I… uh… what?” Her voice barely rose above a whisper.

Minjeong raised her eyebrows, clearly savoring every second of their discomfort. “The squirting thing,” she said with a casual shrug. “Do you believe me now, or should I assume you two just fell into a puddle on the way home?”

Giselle groaned loudly, slapping her hands over her face. “Oh my God,” she muttered through her fingers. “We’re not doing this.”

“Oh, but we are,” Minjeong replied smoothly, sitting up straighter as she gestured at them. “Look at yourselves. I’m pretty sure half the apartment can smell exactly where you’ve been.” She waved a hand in front of her nose with mock drama. “Seriously, go take a shower before you stink up the place.”

Ningning let out a breathy, nervous laugh, rubbing the back of her neck as if she could physically brush off the embarrassment. “Fine, okay,” she admitted, her voice tinged with defeat. “You were right.”

Minjeong leaned back, her smug expression only growing. “Damn, I love being right.” She grabbed her spoon again, pointing it between them for emphasis. “And for the record, you two look way worse than I ever did. Way worse.”

Giselle opened her mouth, no doubt to protest, but one glance at Ningning’s equally disheveled state made her snap it shut with a resigned groan. “Okay, fine,” she muttered. “We get it.”

“So?” Minjeong continued, her voice light but probing. She looked back and forth between them, her amusement palpable.

Giselle and Ningning exchanged a look, their faces still burning from the intensity of Minjeong’s scrutiny. Finally, Giselle sighed heavily, her tone a mix of exasperation and reluctant awe. “It was… insane.”

“Amazing,” Ningning added softly, her voice almost reverent. “But absolutely insane.”

Minjeong chuckled, digging her spoon into the ice cream as she watched them shuffle awkwardly toward the hallway. “Thought so,” she said, her voice laced with amusement. “Now go before you stink up the place.”

Giselle rolled her eyes, dragging Ningning along. “We’re going,” she grumbled over her shoulder. “And stop being so smug.”

The bathroom door clicked shut, and Minjeong leaned back against the couch, her smirk softening into a faint grin. “Told them,” she muttered to herself, taking another bite of ice cream as her eyes glinted with satisfaction.

-----

After their showers, Giselle and Ningning returned to the living room, collapsing onto the couch beside Minjeong. The TV murmured softly in the background as they all sat in comfortable silence, Giselle and Ningning still recovering from their experience. Minjeong barely glanced up from her mug of tea that she had replaced the ice-cream with, her smirk faint but ever-present.

A couple hours passed quietly, the three of them lounging in the warm, cozy space, the tension of the evening fading into the background.

Then the front door creaked open.

They all turned to look. Karina stepped inside, and the sight of her left them speechless. She looked utterly ravaged, as though every ounce of energy had been drained from her in the most unrestrained way. Her heels dangled limply from one hand, the straps swinging with her unsteady steps as her bare feet padded softly on the floor. Her mascara was streaked down her flushed cheeks, evidence of tears shed not from pain but from overwhelming sensation. Her lips were swollen, parted as she panted softly, her chest rising and falling in deep, labored breaths that made her shirt cling to her damp skin.

Her shirt was disheveled, one sleeve slipping halfway off her shoulder and exposing the curve of her flushed skin. The fabric bunched awkwardly around her midsection, twisted as though it had been yanked and tugged in the heat of the moment. The absence of a bra was glaringly obvious; her hardened nipples pressed against the thin material, betraying her sensitivity and the cool air that kissed her overheated body.

Her neck was scattered with marks—dark, blooming hickeys and faint, precise bites painting a vivid, unspoken story from just beneath her jawline to the delicate curve of her collarbone. Among them, faint but undeniable, was the ghostly imprint of a hand—its shape outlined in a faint redness across her throat, a testament to moments of raw, restrained intensity. The marks deepened in color toward her shoulders, a testament to the passion and force of the encounter. Her hair was a wild mess, tousled and damp with sweat, clinging in strands to her forehead and neck. A few stray locks stuck to her temple, framing her flushed face like a halo gone astray.

Her skirt, barely hanging on, was wrinkled and skewed, riding up on one side to reveal the faint imprint of fingers along her thighs where she'd been gripped firmly. The fabric clung to her hips as though it, too, had been caught in the chaos. A thin sheen of sweat coated her glistening skin, catching the light and accentuating the sharp curve of her hip bones and the subtle tremble of her legs as she took another step.

Karina’s lips twitched into a lazy, self-satisfied smile as she leaned lightly against the doorframe. Her eyes, half-lidded and glossy, carried the unmistakable glow of someone thoroughly and unapologetically satisfied. Despite her thoroughly wrecked appearance, she exuded confidence, her posture unbothered even as her body showed every sign of having been pushed to its absolute limit.

Minjeong, still leaning comfortably against the couch cushions, raised an eyebrow, her smirk widening as she took in the sight. “You good?”

Karina let out a breathy laugh, running a hand through her tangled hair, her voice husky and dripping with contentment. “Never better,” she replied, not even trying to straighten her clothes or clean herself up.

Karina’s lazy smile widened as her gaze flicked over to Giselle and Ningning, both of whom froze under her gaze. Tilting her head slightly, she drawled, “What happened to just experiencing, huh? All I could taste was the two of you the entire time I was with him.”

Giselle’s mouth opened, but only a strangled sound escaped. “I-I… we… it wasn’t—” Her hands flailed slightly before she dropped her head into her hands, groaning in embarrassment.

Ningning wasn’t any better, her face turning an impossibly deeper shade of red as she stammered, “It’s not… we didn’t mean to—ah, oh my God.”

Minjeong, sitting cross-legged on the couch, looked back and forth between them, her brow furrowing. “Wait… what? Taste what? What’s going on?”

Giselle and Ningning didn’t answer, too busy sinking into the couch cushions, their faces buried in their hands as they tried to suppress their embarrassment. Karina, clearly pleased with the chaos she’d left behind, simply chuckled and disappeared down the hallway, her door clicking shut behind her.

Minjeong blinked at the scene, utterly baffled. “Am I missing something?”

No one answered. The silence, filled with mortified tension, hung in the air as Ningning and Giselle continued to avoid Minjeong’s questioning gaze, their faces buried in their hands.

Minjeong raised an eyebrow, her smirk returning as realization began to dawn. “You know, I’d ask again, but I think I already have my answer,” she teased, her voice laced with amusement.

Ningning stammered, “I-It’s not like that!” but her words dissolved into incoherent mumbling as she slumped further into the couch. Beside her, Giselle shook her head rapidly, muttering something incomprehensible, her face still hidden in her hands.

Minjeong chuckled, leaning back with a satisfied grin as she grabbed her tea. “Right. Not like that. Sure. Whatever you say.”

Her casual tone only seemed to make things worse. Ningning shot Giselle a desperate look, silently begging her to do something, but Giselle merely groaned louder, sinking even deeper into the cushions as if trying to vanish.

The apartment settled into uneasy quiet, the faint sound of the TV providing a backdrop to the heavy tension. Minjeong took a sip of her tea, her expression smug as she glanced at the other two. The warmth in the room was palpable—tinged with shared embarrassment, reluctant amusement, and an unspoken agreement that this would not come up again.

At least, not anytime soon.

[slasherflicks999]

more kate!

yes nina did make her that little purple bracelet and she wears it 24/7 bc she loves her girlfriend ninakate nation i got u guys

i also forgot her scar in that fullbody FUCK why do i end up forgetting a little detail like that in every drawing i do help

[tape-deck]

it's hitting me how long i've actually been watching drawfee/sss like. jacob and julia weren't even Dating yet and now they're having a baby. a BABY!! i'm so happy for them🥺🥺😭😭😭

[beloveds-embrace]

Can we get that dark version of graves 💀. Sorry no hate to him but I like how this men operates lowkey like mafia in the dukedom au. Also is Konig still her personal guard in the regular au?

In the regular au, no, I don’t have König for her in there lol fyi i wrote this while spaced out during a lecture im sorry if it sounds rushed lol 😭

Referenced post

As for Graves: god, he is so smug. So, so smug, arrogance and pride growing each second he spends with you and over you. It shows in his gait when he walks, when he begins lording over the other servants and staff, when he begins latching to you, joining you on your free time when he checks beforehand that no one else is there with you. All of this even before you tell John your request.

After you do, and after you insist you really do want Graves, he becomes almost like a blown up balloon. He wants to monopolize all your time, all your interactions, and why would you say no when he gives you the love and affection you long for?

You don’t say no; but the same can’t be said for them.

It doesn’t matter if Graves truly loves you back. It doesn’t matter if he doesn’t love you and only wants to desperately hold on to his one chance of rising in society. Nothing about Graves really matters to them except how to break his connection to you.

Graves thinks that the reason the rest of the staff slowly begin to distance themselves from him, ill-mannered towards him in general, is out of jealousy due to his closeness to you. He thinks that the reason John adds more stable hands is because you want to have others help him and who he can lord over. He thinks the reason bland and spoiled food he gets is because the cook is jealous of him, as well. Who wouldn’t be, knowing it’s only him who has your affection?

He thinks everything is done for him, due to you. It makes him latch all the more to you, and you love it even if you sometimes look confused by it.

When you send him a letter, askinh to meet him privately late at night in the woods behind the duchy, it’s the first time he’s considered saying no to you. But as it is, Graves thinks you are a spoiled thing, born with a silver spoon, and he doesn’t want to spoil his standing with you. The woods behind the duchy are a bit… unconventional. He’s heard rumors of servants sometimes dying in there, a long time ago, but there was no solid evidence of it ever.

Whatever it is, he can deal with it. His confidence builds when Kyle greets him formally, a little smile on his lips compared to the previous days. The food he’s presented with is delicious and warm, and Duke Riley even gives him a nod when passing by him. He gets called into John’s office to talk about a payrise, as well.

Everything’s well. Going into the woods, therefore, shouldn’t be a problem.

It shouldn’t have been a problem.

Stumbling through the dark woods in question, cradling his bleeding leg, Graves begins to realize that he’s made a horrific misjudgment.

Why would you, of all people, want to meet here? You, soft and delicate? You, who has never known what it feels like to have a single scratch on your body?

This place isn’t meant for you. You wouldn’t even consider this place.

You didn’t send him that letter.

And Graves is realizing it just now.

He lets out another pained shout when his foot catches onto a bear trap, falling forward. Hands and knees scratched, blood pooling under him, and covered with the dark canopy of the night sky with nothing to guide him except the dim light of the stars, Graves has never felt more hopeless.

The snapping of dead twigs and leaves, loud in the suffocating silence of the woods, makes his twist his neck to see-

Beasts. Snarling, deep dark beasts, gaping maws and rows of twisted, sharp teeth. They laugh and bark, snapping at him and there is nothing he can do to struggle back because the damned trap is still holding him down.

Behind those beasts, there is a figure. The eyes that peer at him in hatred are familiar, but Graves cannot recall their owner at this moment. Tall, blond hair, at the manor ever so often-

“You should not have touched what doesn’t belong to you, Graves.”

He is not granted enough time to think about how familiar the voice is.

And so, on a dark January night, Philip Graves disappears.

“Still no sign?” You ask, twisting your handkerchief between your hands again. Your days have been hard, lately, and grow harder the longer your lover remains missing. Though you aren’t even sure if he is truly missing. If he was, then how come the rest of the servants all said that they couldn’t find any of his personal belongings?

He had seemed so happy with you… you don’t understand.

“I’m afraid not,” Simon tells you softly, coming to stand beside you. He holds a hand out for you, and despite knowing it wouldn’t be proper, you do not stop him from drawing you into a hug. “The dogs didn’t find any traces of him, either.”

Your eyes move over to the two dogs curled on their respective pillows, one napping and the other chewing on a bone. You loved them; they were all over you the second Simon had brought them to you, rolling over to get stomach rubs from you. They provided a temporary retrieve from your dark and depressing thoughts, just simply holding them making you feel better.

“They are good hunters.” Simon had told you, his knuckles gently wiping away your tears. “If he is anywhere lost nearby, they will find him.”

But now, there wasn’t a trace of him. You hated to admit it, but perhaps Philip’s leave might have been his own choice…

“Do not cry.” Simon whispers softly when he hears you sniffling, arms warm around you. You melt against him, just clinging to this comfort. “John will still search, but you still have all of us to help you get through this, sweetheart.”

Get through this, and get over Graves. The rest of the staff all agreed that he wasn’t good for you, anyways, and the dogs had their fun.

And Simon now gets to hold and comfort you, after he’s already had quality time with the rest of his beloveds.

Your tears will dry, eventually, and your heart will open up again.

[carpbait]

its like 2am and all i can draw are these fools

[whatifitis]

♡ So American - FC 43 ♡

Summary: You and Franco celebrate Thanksgiving together for the first time and Franco nearly gags when he sees American Thanksgiving dishes

Author's Note: this is so ass so I’m sorry 😭 feedback is always appreciated

WC: 2296

CW: american reader 😲, fluff, thanksgiving food, wicked mentions, more overuse of song lyrics

You and Franco had been together for the better part of the year, about 7 months. Thanksgiving was coming up and, on the same weekend F1 would be racing in Qatar, not allowing Franco to be with you on Thanksgiving day, which was honestly a disappointment to the both of you. However, after moving around some plans, the two of you managed to pick a date that worked for everyone to be in your hometown to celebrate the holiday, before Franco had to go off and be a star (and an icon).

To say you were excited was an understatement. It was not only your first time having a boyfriend, but having a boyfriend during the holidays. You were excited to create new memories with Franco and show him how you celebrate the holidays in America.

Your family typically divides the work for the food every year and this time you were in charge of making the sweet potato and marshmallow dish, something you knew was gonna throw Franco into a whirl about. Your boyfriend enjoys making fun of some American dishes and you don’t mind because it’s fun and you can see how some of them are strange.

You two were in your apartment the morning of Thanksgiving dinner. You got ready for the day and decided it would be best to change into your outfit after you’ve cooked. You settled on wearing one of Franco’s shirts and a pair of his shorts for now. You then decided to head to the kitchen to prepare your dish, Franco trailing behind you like a puppy.

“You look pretty wearing my clothes.” Franco complimented.

You deadpanned to Franco with an emotionless face asking, “do I not look pretty any other time? Is this the only time I look pretty?”

Franco’s face turned red and he was panicking, “I- no, no, amor. Thats- that’s not what I-“

“I’m kidding, love. Relax, looked like you almost shit yourself then.” you laughed.

Franco took a breath of relief and just smiled at your antics, “ha ha, so funny.”

As you pulled out the ingredients you’d be needing, Franco watched in confusion.

“Amor, what- what are you making? You have sweet potatoes, marshmallows, and pecans on the table. Is it all for one dish? No, right?” he questions, cocking his head to the side.

“It is for one dish. I’m making a sweet potato casserole!” you exclaim excitedly, knowing it was one of your favorite dishes and you can only have it during Thanksgiving.

“Eugh. No, amor. No.”, you watch as Franco makes a face of disgust, “Why?”

“It’s good, baby. I promise. When it’s all baked together with the seasonings, it tastes like heaven.” you think, displaying a picture of the dish in your mind.

Franco all but side eyes to your response, “I thought I tasted like heaven…” he pouts.

“Sweet potato casserole tastes better, babe. Sorry.” you flash a toothy smile.

“Ay dios mio. Is this what I’m marrying into?” Franco jokes, dropping head into his hands.

“Ehm! I beg your finest pardon?! Where the fuck is my ring?”, wiggling your ring finger at him, “Don’t joke about marriage, bitch. Or I’ll start doing the ending riff of Defying Gravity all day long.”

“Ay no, por favor, no. As much as I love your singing, amor. I can’t listen to any songs from Wicked right now. It’s all you’ve been playing the past month! Please, anything but Wicked, anything!” Franco pleads with you.

“Fine. Your funeral though.” you say, carrying on with your cooking.

“Que?”

“Nada”

Franco is left speechless, but you carry on with your actions.

After plopping onto a chair and pouting, Franco got curious, “Amor, can you tell me what Thanksgiving is? I know you give thanks, but why?”.

“Well, in school we were taught that years ago, around this time, the pilgrims and Native Americans came together to share a meal and be peaceful with one another. They basically celebrated a successful harvest but with most of American history, there’s some lies. But Americans really don’t care about history. It’s just a day where most of us don’t have to work and an excuse to stuff our faces with food that’s really bad for us.”

“That’s….nice.”

“I can feel the judgement from here.”

“I’m not judging, just learning.” he smiles cheekily, “but in all honesty, your reality is so different from mine. In Argentina we don’t have this holiday and strange foods, but I want to learn all about your crazy American traditions if it means I get to be by your side. I go where you go.”

“I go where you got too.” you say, still blushing from his words.

“Maybe ‘I go where you go’ can be our ‘always’.”

You tried to suppress your laugh and threw a few marshmallows at his response, “You’re done. You’re done. I cannot believe you just quoted The Fault In Our Stars.”

He’s giggling to himself and it’s one of your favorite things in the world. It’s just not fair of him to be so cute and funny. If he keeps this shit up, you swore you were gonna marry him.

-=+=-

During the drive to your parents house for dinner, you and Franco listened to music. As passenger princess, Franco had control of the aux and he played a playlist he had made when you two first started dating. He knew that sharing music was sort of a love language of yours so he saved all the ones you had mentioned at times or the songs he would always find on repeat when you were around.

It was a peaceful drive, that is until No Good Deed from Wicked came on. As soon as the opening chords started, Franco knew there was no stopping you. He watched as you put on a one woman performance for him, and him only. Yes, it was from Wicked but he couldn’t lie. If you’re the one singing, he didn’t mind the constant sound.

He was also thankful it wasn’t Defying Gravity or else you would’ve been asking for a broom to hold. He also knew you would’ve fucked up your voice a bit if you attempted Cynthia Erivo’s riff.

The two of you arrived at your parents house and were warmly welcomed by the rest of your family. Though the house was already decorated in Christmas decor, the feeling of Thanksgiving was flowing through the air. Your dad already had the (American) football game

playing on the tv, calling Franco over to once again try and convert him into a fan.

You watched as your boyfriend was practically dragged away from you, laughing as he mouthed the words ‘help me’. Your dad adored Franco and your Franco loved hanging with your dad. As they went on to do their antics, you walked to the kitchen, setting down the dish you had prepared and began to help your mom finish up some cooking.

“So,” your mom starts, “how are you and Franco?”

You couldn’t help but smile, you’re glad she brought him up first because you can never have a conversation if it’s not about him.

“We’re good. When he found out that he was able to make it to dinner, he was so excited. He’d immediately asked me a million questions on whether he should bring something or not as a gift. But I told him to not worry about it, there’s enough food and drinks so we didn’t need anything.”

“He’s a sweet boy. I’m glad you found him, he’s brought back a light in you that I haven’t seen in a long time.”

You looked up at your mom and almost burst into tears. You didn’t know that color was coming back to you. Before any tears spilled, Franco walked into the kitchen and went straight to you. When you were close enough, he wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling you close and kissing your hair.

“Do you guys need any help?” he’d asked you guys.

“I don’t think we need any help here but you know what I need help with?” you aunt asks, raising a cheeky eyebrow at Franco, “I need help dancing to this song.”

You watched as your aunt grabbed Franco's hand and pulled him away from you to dance with him. The two danced and swayed to the music as the rest of you laughed and cheered them on. You’re glad your family gets along with Franco well.

Music, laughter, and chatter filled the air, along with the savory and sweet smells of the food that was almost ready to eat. Once everything was cooked, your mother, aunt, and yourself began to set the table with the silverware and make the table look as beautiful as can be. As if they could sense that everything was ready, Franco, your father, uncles, aunts and cousins joined you at the table.

As each of you began to take your seats, Franco was almost split in half. Everyone wanted to be seated next to him. You were all for sharing but Franco was yours. As long as you got to sit on one side of Franco, no heads would roll and peace would prosper.

In the end, one of your cousins ended up sitting on the other side of Franco, ready to bombard the poor boy with questions about racing and F1.

Before digging into the food, everyone had to give thanks and say what they were grateful for. Most of your family said the typical stuff like thankful for having a happy, loving family and having a roof over their head. That was until it was your cousin’s turn…

“This year, I’m grateful that Logan was dropped from Williams and that Franco was able to have that seat. My best buddy is a F1 driver now. But R.I.P. Logan, my American king. Also R.I.P. Sebastian Vettel, you would’ve loved Franco. Anyways, who's next?” your cousin clapped his hands, looking around the table.

Crickets could be heard from the silence.

Franco, thankfully, moved the conversation forward and said his thanks. “Well, ehm. I think I have a lot to be thankful for this year. I’m thankful for my opportunity to drive in F1, and even though I don’t know where I’ll be next year, I’m still happy I got this chance. I’m also super grateful for y/n. We only met this year but she’s still amazing and has been there for me through a lot. And I’m also grateful for having been invited to join you guys today and that you guys are so cool and welcoming, so thank you.”

Everyone basically awed at Franco and his little speech. Meanwhile you were on the verge of tears. You’d never known love like this and you couldn’t believe he chose you. He was like a poem that you wished you’d written.

After some deep breaths from you, everyone began to dig into the food, well, everyone except for Franco. The boy was absolutely lost, he didn’t know what half the stuff was and he wasn’t sure how to go about anything. You took it upon yourself to start his plate for him so that he could familiarize himself with some of the foods and not get overwhelmed.

When you set his plate down in front of him again, he looked at the plate confused and then turned to you, silently asking you to tell him what everything was.

“You’ve got some ham, sweet potato casserole, green beans, and mashed potatoes to start. I know you like all those even if you haven’t tried some yet. From here you can work your way around the dishes on the table.” you smile.

“Gracias, amor. I really am grateful for you and all that you do.”

“Tell me, lover. How grateful are you?” you cheekily ask.

With a wink, Franco replies, “I’ll show you after dinner.”

-=+=-

“The only thing I will be showing you if anything is my shit because I am so full.” Franco tells you as he settles himself on the couch.

The whole family had wrapped up dinner and finished off the night with some dessert. Now some of the family were chatting over some drinks to end the night.

“Please don’t.” you tell Franco.

“Ok, I wasn’t actually planning on showing you my shit. Ay dios.” states as he rolls his head to rest on the back of the couch.

You take a seat next to Franco, resting your head on his shoulder, his arm instinctively wrapping around you. His other arm reached for your hands and held them close. You swore his hands were so warm that they made hell seem cold.

You really were grateful for him. The two of you had been through some tough times so early into your relationship. There were times where you wondered if it was meant to be and if it would all work out. You’d even tried to push him away at some point, believing his life would be easier if you weren’t there to drag him down. But he stayed. There have been moments where you’ve been mean to him, times where you were so depressed that you would stay in bed all day and didn’t move. Days where you didn’t respond to his texts or calls because you couldn’t. But despite all that, he’s still here.

You’ve burned so many bridges in your life. You’ve made the same mistakes over and over but now you know you did one thing right. You love Franco with everything you have and he’s the person you trust the most. He knows you better than you know yourself most of the time. Even when you lose your mind, he’s still yours.

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

Have you seen Rook sleepwear!! The freckles! He still have them!! We all were right he do sleep in what we imagined and that hat too lol I can't it's so funny and cute ahahaha!

LMAO I was right about the long sleeves and the night cap 😭 and all the memes were right too… Rook’s dressed in grandpa-ass pajamas just like Scrooge (so is Vil’s card about to be him dressed in a luxuriously fluffy nightgown??)

bcjdbdiwnxksks Rook in this outfit makes me think of the wolf in granny clothes… lying in bed, pretending to be the woman he just swallowed whole to deceive Little Red Riding Hood 😭 which is ironic, since he’s supposed to be the huntsman (and is depicted as that in my Little Red Riding Hood Twst retelling). His large hands don’t help, they make me feel a little nervous 💦 Really makes me think of “What big eyes you have, what large teeth you have,” etc.

No frizzy hair though! Did he have it permanently straightened, maybe…? But it makes sense that his freckles remained! I’ve heard that some kinds of freckles can fade away with time or with continuous sun protection, but either there hasn’t been enough time passed for Rook or he has the permanent type of freckles. Either way, it’s cute. This might imply that Rook typically covers the freckles up with makeup though. I’m sure he’s wearing sunscreen too—gotta protect that skin!

[nopanamaman]

should we expect new pafl part closer to the new year?

(no negative)

(i know you're swamped with work)

(im asking purely out of curiosity)

I don't know atp😭

I should finish the current segment of the weekly comic in a couple of weeks, after which I wanted to fully go into video making mode, but at that point it will be the middle of December. And let's be real, with the amount of animation I need to do for it, I don't think it's happening before 2025.

I'm sorry.

I didn't think I'd go over a year without a major PAFL episode. While I'm glad I could release Execution and a bunch of singles over the course of 2024, I underestimated the workload the ongoing comic run would entail and was left with no time for the actual main project. It's pure mismanagement on my end.

I'll do better next year and reevaluate my work schedules, so hopefully you won't need to wait this long for new episodes ever again

[perdidosbucky-yyo]

This was so good!!

“Bah, if Logan wanted to keep me out of his head, he would. Stubborn man.” He tsks softly to himself and shakes his head. “But, no my dear, he can be quite loud if you know how to listen.”

The way this makes so much sense to me

“Did it hurt?”

“No.”

You blink slowly, your sleep-laden mind struggling to process his answer. “Not even a little?” Your voice is barely audible as you nestle closer into the warmth of his chest.

This was so intimate and cute!! I love it 😩

“No phone call or text letting me know you’re not coming home and then you waltz in after midnight soaked in blood and covered in wounds.” Unshed tears burn in your eyes but you will yourself not to cry.

I FELT THIS😭 I wanted to hug her

You wonder how long it’s truly been since he’s felt like this, unburdened by the pain and suffering of his own body. Your heart aches for him as you slowly begin to wash him, rubbing soft circles over the scarred flesh of his back, rinsing away the blood dried to his skin.

“Big man in a little tub? Yeah, I do,” you reply with a smile. “Just relax, Logan. This’ll be our secret.”

Bestie you just wrote the cutest reader eveeeeer

❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹 Stop my heart is aching rn, this is why I love old man Logan, I just wanna take care of him.

“What do you like?” The question lands in the sliver of space between you, your strokes still light, teasing.

“Firmer, more ah—” He breaks off as you tighten your grip on the upstroke. “Fuck, yes, like that, sweetheart.”

No words just-

For a moment, neither of you speaks, then Logan lifts his head, his hazel eyes soft as they meet yours. “You walked into my life and I knew—I knew—you would ruin me.”

I just love this concept so much, like they love each other so much they're ruined not just for other people but even by themselves

Logan’s eyes widen as he grabs for your wrist. “No. You’ll hurt yourself.”

“I don’t care!” you shout. “I love you, dammit, and I’m not just going to sit here and watch you die!”

Fantastic gimme 14 of them

“Me?” Logan’s voice is low, disbelieving as his hand cradles the back of your head as if you might shatter. “You’re the one—why the fuck would you do that? You could’ve—dammit, you—”

The way he can't even speak bc he's so angry and grateful and in shock, I live for this trope

his low growls of approval vibrating through you as he works you over with an enthusiasm that proves to you this is about more than just pleasure—he’s claiming you, showing you just how much you mean to him. Making you his.

😩💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀

He lifts his head to look up at you, his gaze soft yet still simmering with hunger. “I do, you know,” he murmurs. His fingers brush idly against your skin. “Love you.”

He buries his face in your neck, beard scraping against your skin as he sighs. “Didn’t like wakin’ up with you not there,” he breathes into your hair, his voice so low you almost don’t hear him.

THIS MOMENT RIGHT HERE, the vulnerability, the sincerity 😩 this might be my favorite part of the fic

Now this is my favorite part of the fic, I literally shivered imagining this.

Take My Love and Wear It

SYNOPSIS: Taking care of Charles has its own special challenges, but you didn’t expect the hardest one to be the man who hired you. Distant, gruff and rough around the edges, Logan still manages to worm his way under your skin. But you’ve worked your way under his, too. 

PAIRING: Old Man Logan x fem!reader

WC: 10.8k 

WARNINGS: smut 18+; mdni; angst; swearing; non-explicit mentions of wounds, blood and use of stitches; extreme physical pain; Charles is a lovable, meddling little shit; fluff sprinkled in for good measure; Logan in a tub (if I had a nickel for every time I bathed him, I’d have two nickels—which isn’t a lot, but its weird it happened twice, right); touch-starved Logan; handjobs; shower sex; fingering; dirty talk; oral (f receiving); sex with feelings; unprotected p in v; creampie

A/N: There’s something special about Old Man Logan, isn’t there? Old and grumpy and desperately in need of some love and affection. I know the Charles caregiver story has been done before, but I couldn’t get this idea out of my head. And then Charles starting talking in my head and well...it blossomed into this. As always, thank you to @joelsgoldrush for allowing me to send her snippets of this as I went along and offering her love, support and suggestions. I hope you enjoy this and any likes, comments and reblogs are always appreciated!

You stare down at the remnants of yesterday’s cold and congealed dinner and sigh. Scraping the food into the trash, you resist the urge to pack everything you have and leave. 

One month. 

One month of helping Charles—making his meals, washing his clothes, giving him his meds, making sure he doesn’t hurt himself (or others), assisting with daily tasks—and Logan still regards you as a nuisance, like a gnat needing to be swatted away. 

At best, he ignores you, moving around the house as if you don’t exist. 

And at worst, he treats you with barely concealed contempt, his scowl deepening the lines of his face whenever he’s around you. As if you’re invading his space uninvited even though he’s the one that sought out help. 

You grip the edge of the sink, staring down into the porcelain basin as if it holds some hidden answers. Every day you’ve tried to break through walls Logan’s built around himself, held onto Charles’ promise that eventually he’ll soften, just give him time, but he only seems to have grown more hostile. And you’ve done nothing to incur his ire besides watching him come home every day battered and bruised, his very bones weary with exhaustion, and offering your assistance.

Part of you is angry—angry that you care so much when your main focus is supposed to be Charles. Angry that despite all his efforts to come across unapproachable and cold, Logan’s worked himself under your skin and takes a little piece of you with him whenever he leaves. 

Angry that somehow he’s stolen a piece of your heart. 

You hear shuffling behind you and turn to find Logan entering the kitchen, fingers fastening the last buttons on his dress shirt. “What?” he asks gruffly and for a moment you wonder if he can read your thoughts.

You straighten and meet his gaze head on, swallowing down your nervousness. “How much longer are we going to keep doing this, Logan?”

“Doing what?”

“This,” you say, gesturing between you. “You walking around here like I’m some stain upon your life, acting like I’m a problem when all I’ve ever done is try and help.” Your voice is steadier than you feel. “You asked for me to be here, Logan. It’s not like I barged in here without permission.”

Logan holds your gaze, his jaw tight, and for a moment you think he’s going to grab his keys and leave, head off into the night and drive until sunrise. His eyes soften for just a moment, something like regret crossing his features. 

“I know why you’re here. And I do…appreciate it,” he says, his words coming out low and rough. As if the words taste foreign in his mouth. 

“Wouldn’t kill you to show it,” you challenge.

You’re waiting for him to lash out and instead he sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Look, I’m not good at this.”

“I’m not asking you to bow at my feet,” you say, hoping to ease some of the tension in the air. “Although, I wouldn’t be mad about it.” You think you see the briefest hint of a smile flicker across his face. “I just want us to be able to live in the same space. I’m here to help, Logan. Let me.”

“You have no idea how hard this life is.”

A rueful smile tugs at your lips. “I understand more than you think I do.”

Logan’s gaze sharpens, inquisitive as he searches your face, as if he’s trying to decipher the meaning behind your words. He rubs a hand across his face, scratching lightly as his beard. “I’ve gotta couple jobs tonight. Maybe more,” he finally says, changing the conversation. “Should be back before sunrise.”

You nod, his switch in topic not lost on you, but you don’t push him. “Alright,” you say softly. “Just—just take it easy, okay?”

He glances down at you, relief softening his gaze and you know a part of him is grateful you didn’t push further. 

Grabbing his keys, Logan heads towards the door but pauses just before he’s about to leave. He turns to look back over his shoulder. “Thanks,” he murmurs, the word awkward on his lips. 

You give him a small nod of encouragement as he slips out the door. He may not be ready to full open up, but you feel as if he extended a tiny olive branch tonight, cracked open the door just enough to let you peek in.

+++

Over the following weeks, Logan’s a little less avoidant. He doesn’t go out of his way to make conversation—you didn’t expect him to—but he at least as acknowledges your presence. Small nods and murmured goodbyes when he leaves and sleepy hellos when he returns. It’s not much, but you’ll take it. 

You’re cleaning the last of the dishes from dinner, Charles safely settled in front of the TV watching an old movie when Logan comes home. He’s earlier than you anticipated, but exhaustion lines his face nonetheless. You expect him to slip away quietly, but he pauses instead, lingering in the doorway. 

“Smells good,” he says softly, nodding towards the pan of half eaten lasagna still sitting on the counter. 

Surprised, you turn around to face him. You brush the hair from your face and say, “Sit. I’ll make you up some.” 

Logan hesitates and for a moment you think he’s about to decline, but then he nods, his shoulders dropping slightly as he sits down at the table. You fix him up a plate, setting it down in front of him with a bottle of beer as you slide into the chair across from him.  

He tucks quietly into the food, his fork scraping against his plate as he eats, pausing only to wash it down with a few swigs of beer. You watch him, a strange satisfaction tugging at you at the sight of him actually sitting down, enjoying a meal with you, even if it is in silence. 

“Long day?” you ask quietly, gesturing towards his bruised knuckles.

He flexes the fingers on his free hand before tucking them under the table. “Nothin’ I can’t handle,” he mutters, taking another bite of lasagna. “They’ll be gone in a day or two.”

You know not that long ago an injury like that wouldn’t have even marred his skin. Now, the simplest of wounds can take days to heal and it’s not the appearance of his skin that bothers you, but the newfound ache he experiences, the heaviness of constant pain.

You want to help him, ease his discomfort, like you know you could. But you know he’s not ready for that. Not yet.

“You’re good with Charles,” Logan says then, his gaze steady on his plate. “He seems calmer around you.”

Logan’s admission is so unexpected, you find yourself staring at him in disbelief. At your silence, his eyes flicker up to yours and you see more than simple acknowledgement in his expression. It’s subtle, but it’s there, a current of something more, something you’re not quite sure how to address.

“Thank you,” you murmur, your voice softer than you intended. “Charles—he means a lot to me.” You pause briefly, but something compels you to continue. “You both do.”

His gaze is focused on you and you don’t miss the flicker of surprise that breaks through his usual stoic expression. Clearing his throat, he looks down, pushing around the last bit of lasagna on his plate and then after a moment, he sets his fork down and leans back in his chair. “You mean a lot to him, too,” Logan finally says and you wonder if he’s talking about more than just Charles.

From the living room you hear Charles call for you, his voice soft but insistent. The moment between you still crackles as you stand from the table and as you begin to walk away, Logan reaches for your hand. His fingers are warm and rough against your skin and you’re barely able to suppress your shiver. 

“Thank you,” Logan says, his voice surprisingly soft. 

His grip against your skin is gentle, a stark contrast to all his roughness and you can feel the weight of his unspoken words curling around you. Charles calls again, his voice breaking through the moment, but Logan’s hand lingers just a beat longer before he lets go, fingers trailing along your skin. 

+++

“He likes you, you know.”

You glance up from shaving Charles’ face and find him staring at you, a mischievous glint in his eye. You give a soft hum. “Did he tell you that or did you read his mind?”

Charles scoffs and waves his hand dismissively. “What’s the difference, dear?” 

You chuckle, shaking your head as you rinse the razor. “With Logan I’m pretty sure there’s a big difference.”

“Bah, if Logan wanted to keep me out of his head, he would. Stubborn man.” He tsks softly to himself and shakes his head. “But, no my dear, he can be quite loud if you know how to listen.”

You raise an eyebrow, giving him a playful look. “Loud, huh? And what exactly is that brain of his telling you?”

Charles gives you a knowing smile. “Oh, just little things,” he says casually with a wave of his hand, but you can tell by the look on his face that he’s holding back. “He notices you—what you do for me, this place, for him. He may not realize it himself, but his thoughts linger on you more often than he’d like.”

A flicker of hope sparks in your chest and despite yourself, you feel a blush creeping into your cheeks. “Logan doesn’t strike me as the sentimental type.”

“Logan has spent so much of his life running,” Charles continues, his tone and expression growing more thoughtful. “The loss he’s experienced has led him to believe it’s better to be alone than form meaningful connections with people. But you’ve somehow become something of a home for him. And he doesn’t quite know what to make of that.”

Your heart skips a beat as you take in his words. The idea of being a home for Logan, a comfort, feels surreal, and yet...there’s a part of you that dares to hope what Charles is saying is true. That this isn’t some fictional truth his brain has concocted, a product of his disease riddled mind. 

“Home.” You repeat the word softly to yourself, testing the word on your own tongue as if it might shatter into pieces.

Charles nods, his hand reaching for yours, his gaze warm and knowing. “Yes, home. He feels it, deep down, in a way that’s unfamiliar and frightening for him.”

You glance down at your hand in Charles’ grasp, his touch grounding you as his words settle over you. 

“Logan’s spent so long hiding from himself,” Charles continues. “I think he’s convinced himself he doesn’t deserve that kind of peace.”

“And you think I can give him that peace?” you ask quietly, your eyes flicking back up to Charles’ face.

He smiles knowingly and gives your hand a squeeze. “You already have, dear.”

+++

“Want some help?”

You turn to find Logan standing in the entrance of the kitchen, hands tucked into his pockets.

It’s a rare night—one where Logan’s chosen to stay home, taking a night off from the almost endless driving he does. He’s dressed down, well worn jeans and a button-up flannel, and for once you actually think he looks comfortable.

You smile, surprised, but happy to see him there. “Sure, the company would be nice,” you reply as he comes to stand next to you. “Want to wash and dice the potatoes?”

Logan nods and rolls up his sleeves before reaching for the bowl of potatoes you had set aside earlier. You watch him for a moment as he settles into the task with a quiet focus. 

“Smells good,” he comments, gesturing towards the oven. “What’re we having?”

“Charles has been asking for beef tenderloin for weeks now, so I’m finally indulging him.” You finish trimming the last of the green beans and toss them into the bowl beside you. “You know, if you have any favorite meals you’d like me to make, you can tell me.”

Logan pauses and glances at you as he shuts off the tap. He clears his throat and says, “You already are.”

You blink in surprise as Logan’s words sink in and then the realization dawns on you. A soft smile spreads across your face as you piece together the extent of Charles’ meddling. You can’t find it in you to be annoyed and only feel a mix of amusement and fondness towards the old man as you chuckle softly to yourself.

“What’s so funny?” Logan asks, raising his eyebrow as he catches your expression.

“Oh, nothing,” you say, waving him off with a smile. 

Logan doesn’t look convinced, but he doesn’t pry as he picks up the knife and begins to deftly dice the potatoes. You watch him for a moment, captivated by the simple domesticity of the task. It’s in direct contrast to the man you’ve seen numerous times before, brooding and gruff, brimming with an almost untamed violence. 

It suits him, you think, this quieter version of himself.

You both finish the prep with relative ease. He helps you set the table as the rest of the food cooks, plates clinking softly as he sets them down. You busy yourself with finishing the green beans in a garlic butter as you wait for for the tenderloin to rest enough to carve into. 

“Ah, my dear, this smells wonderful,” Charles announces as he rolls into the kitchen, a warm smile on his face. “And you managed to pull Logan out of his room. What a treat.”

Logan snorts in response, giving Charles a pointed glare.

“I dare say it’s because the company has improved much as of late,” Charles says, his eyes twinkling in amusement as he glances between the both of you. “We all know he’s not out here for my benefit.”

You laugh as you bring the dishes to the table, noting the faintest of blushes creeping along Logan’s cheeks. “I’ll take that as a compliment, Charles.”

“As you should, dear. Your personality is quite sparkling.” He looks over towards Logan. “Isn’t it, Logan?”

Logan’s eyes land on you as he answers, “Yes. Yes, it is.”

Dinner begins quietly, the three of you settling into easy conversation as the first few bites are consumed. Both Charles and Logan hum in delight and a warmth blooms within you watching them both. This—this is the simplicity you’ve been craving with Logan.

As the meal continues, Charles launches into his usual repertoire of stories, those of the school and his students, his words brimming with nostalgia and pride as he talks. Logan sits back in his chair, arms crossed as he listens to him speak, shaking his head fondly at some of the memories.

“You know,” Charles begins, setting his fork down with an air of mischief, “I don’t think I ever told you how I met Logan, have I?”

Logan’s head snaps up. “Don’t, Chuck.”

But Charles is already smiling at you, ignoring Logan’s warning. “It’s a good story, dear. See, Logan had quite the career as an underground cage fighter.”

You lift your brows in surprise and you glance over at Logan, who’s thoroughly unamused by Charles’ choice of topic. “Cage fighting, huh?” you ask, unable to suppress your curiosity. 

Logan shifts uncomfortably in his seat, stabbing at his potatoes with a little more force than necessary. “It wasn’t a career,” he mutters. “Just a distraction. Way to get by.”

“Mmm, yes, perhaps,” Charles chuckles, clearly enjoying himself. “Regardless of the reason, it lead you to this exact moment. Didn’t it, Logan?”

Logan narrows his eyes at Charles, though the glare is only half-hearted. “You make it sound like all it all had some grand purpose.”

“Did it not?” Charles says gently, his tone shifting into something more serious. “Kept you alive, for one. But more than that, it brought you to us. To me.” He pauses for a moment, his eyes darting towards you. “To her.”

The words hang in the air and you glance over at Logan, whose expression softens just slightly. Without thinking, you reach across the table and give his forearm a gentle squeeze. His eyes meet yours, a flicker of a smile tugging at his lips.

Charles watches the exchange with quiet satisfaction before clearing his throat. “Well, I believe my work here is done,” he announces, wheeling himself back from he table. “Logan, fancy a game of chess? I haven’t made a player out of her yet.”

You laugh to yourself as Logan follows Charles into the living room. After clearing the kitchen from dinner and loading the last of the dishes into the dishwasher, you join them both in the living room. Tucking yourself into the couch, you read while the two of them play, the clinking of wooden chess pieces and the occasional dry quip from Charles filling the room.

From your spot on the couch, you glance up from your book every now and then to watch them. Logan’s brow furrows in concentration, while Charles’ face is more relaxed as they play. You smile to yourself, wondering how often they played like this in the past, when times were simpler.

You’re not sure when you fell asleep or how long you’ve been out, but you’re jostled awake as two large, warm arms wrap around you, holding you close as you’re lifted off the couch. Logan’s familiar scent—cigar smoke and pine—fill your nose and you blink up to find him walking you down the hall towards your room.

“Logan?” you mumble, voice thick with sleep. “D’you really cage fight?”

Logan chuckles softly, the sound rumbling through his chest. “I really did.”

“Did it hurt?”

“No.”

You blink slowly, your sleep-laden mind struggling to process his answer. “Not even a little?” Your voice is barely audible as you nestle closer into the warmth of his chest.

“Not in the way you think,” he answers, nudging open the door to your room with his foot.

You’re too drowsy to ask what he means and instead you hum softly, a noncommittal sound that Logan feels more than hears. Lowering you onto the bed, he moves with a gentleness you’ve never felt from him before. He brushes a strand of hair from your face and pulls the blanket over you before he turns to leave.

Your limbs are heavy, eyes barely open, but you call out softly—“Logan?”

He looks back towards you. “Yeah?”

“I’m glad Charles found you,” you murmur, closing your eyes.

Logan doesn’t answer, but you swear you feel the lightest of kisses against the top of your head before he leaves.

+++

It’s deep into the night when you hear the front door finally open. Your heart flutters against your ribs as you swing out of bed, unsure of what condition you’ll find him in. He was expected back two days ago, those extra hours away feeling like an unfathomable eternity. 

You find him sitting at the kitchen table, dress shirt hanging off one shoulder, the rest of his clothes rumpled and bloodied. A large gash oozes from his shoulder and you can’t stop the gasp that falls from your lips. 

Logan looks up at you, eyes narrowed and lined with exhaustion. “Don’t look at me like that,” he grunts, tugging off the rest of his shirt. 

“How else am I supposed to look at you?” you ask, taking a tentative step forward. “No phone call or text letting me know you’re not coming home and then you waltz in after midnight soaked in blood and covered in wounds.” Unshed tears burn in your eyes but you will yourself not to cry. 

“Didn’t ask you to care about me,” he bites back, but his tone is more weary than argumentative. 

“Oh, fuck you, Logan,” you snip, but your tone lacks venom.

He ignores you, pushing up from the chair with a heavy groan and limps over towards the cabinets. He shuffles through one of them, pulling out the makeshift sewing kit before sitting back down. You watch as he attempts to thread the needle, growing increasingly frustrated when he keeps missing. 

Shoving down your own frustration, you pull up a chair next to him and reach for the needle and thread. He pulls his hands away from you, turning in the chair to keep you away. You chase after his movements, finally grabbing his wrists and removing the supplies from his grasp.

“I don’t need your help,” he growls. 

You sigh, tired of this same argument, this same endless loop every time he comes home injured. “Goddamit, Logan, just let me help you.”

He drags his gaze up to yours, eyes tracing the lines of your face. His chest still heaves with heavy breaths, but you can see the anger bleed from him. He nods once, turning just enough so that you have access to his wound. Threading the needle, you place a gentle hand on his shoulder, ignoring the flinch he gives at your touch. 

“I’m not going to hurt you,” you whisper. 

Logan huffs. “It’s a needle, darlin’. It’s not gonna feel nice.”

You try to ignore the flip your heart does at his use of the word darling. Despite his earlier gruffness and proclivity to push you away, Logan has softened to you over the last couple of months. Since that first dinner you shared, he’s joined you and Charles more often. Or if he comes home late, sought out the leftovers you’ve kept for him. He’s engaged in conversation, offering small pieces of himself, pieces that you’ve cradled close and nurtured. 

But there’s a tension between you, thick and heavy in the air, and you wonder if he feels it too. Feels that same undeniable pull you’ve always felt in his presence. You’d like to think so, otherwise you were doomed to love him silently, your feelings for him bound in the quiet of your mind.

“Just trust me,” you say. 

Slowly, you release your power, warmth spreading from your fingertips, easing his pain and discomfort as you begin to stitch him up. You try to ignore the heavy press of his gaze on your face and you can almost hear his unspoken thoughts, his words still stuck on his tongue.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” he asks, his shoulder relaxing as you continue to work.

You glance up at him then, finding his expression softer than you’ve seen it. “A mutant is a dangerous thing to be, Logan,” you answer, your voice soft. “Few people know what I can do. Those I trust.”

For a long moment, Logan just looks at you, his eyes unreadable. Then, a rough, tired sigh falls from his lips. “You coulda told me.”

You take a steadying breath, his words lingering in the space between you. “Maybe,” you say, your fingers brushing against his skin as you continue to stitch. “But you don’t make it easy to talk to you.”

Logan lets out a low huff. “No. I guess I don’t, do I?”

You finish the last stitch, securing the knot. Your fingers linger a touch long than necessary, the warmth of his skin a comfort you’re loathe to lose just yet. Slowly, you lift your gaze to his and you feel your heart beat solidly against your ribs as he looks back at you like he’s seeing something there he hadn’t allowed himself to before. 

Logan’s voice is low when he finally speaks. “Why you keep stickin’ around? Watchin’ me come home time after time covered in blood?”

“Because you deserve it.” The words tumble from your mouth before you can stop them. “Even if you don’t see that.”

He doesn’t respond, not right away, as he continues to watch you, his eyes tracing the lines of your face. Then he reaches up for you, fingers curling around your wrist, his skin warm and rough against yours. He holds you there as if grounding himself in your presence, his thumb drawing random patterns against your skin. The gesture is simple, but vulnerable and open in a way he rarely shows.

“I’m no good for you,” he murmurs, glancing down at where he’s touching you. “For anybody.”

“How ‘bout you let me be the judge of that?” you answer, your voice steady. “You’re more than you think you are.”

Logan clenches his jaw, a flicker of disbelief crossing his features, and you know deep below the surface he’s waging a war against himself, one he’s been fighting for far too long. His thumb stills on your wrist, his grip loosening slightly, but not letting go. 

Placing your hand over his, you give him a soft smile. “C’mon, let’s get you cleaned up.”

+++

You’re surprised that he doesn’t argue, doesn’t try to brush you off or push you away as you gently nudge him towards the bathroom. He still gives you a dubious glance as he looks down at the tub, but you just ignore it, moving past him to run the tap.

You give him privacy to undress and get settled before you reenter the bathroom. The sight of him, as large as he his with his knees pulled up to his chest, makes you laugh, garnishing a terse look from him.

“You find this amusing?”

“Big man in a little tub? Yeah, I do,” you reply with a smile. “Just relax, Logan. This’ll be our secret.”

He huffs, but does seem to visibly relax, resting his arms over his knees. You kneel down in front of him, resting one hand gently against his forearm as your other reaches for the washcloth. You can feel the tension release from his muscles as your power floods through him and he breathes out a soft, “Oh,” as all the pain and discomfort is eased from his body.

You wonder how long it’s truly been since he’s felt like this, unburdened by the pain and suffering of his own body. Your heart aches for him as you slowly begin to wash him, rubbing soft circles over the scarred flesh of his back, rinsing away the blood dried to his skin. 

Even battered and marred as he is, you still find him beautiful—you always have. When you first started working with him all those months ago, you felt that pang of attraction when you met him, you’d have been blind not to. Ruggedly handsome, so strong and sure of himself. But you know that wasn’t all that drew you to him. Deep down, below all the tough, seemingly impenetrable exterior, you saw the man he truly was. Someone born of scars and rough edges, yet gentle. Someone who would selflessly put himself before others, even at his own expense. 

You let the cloth linger a moment longer against his skin before dipping it back into the water, watching as his blood rinses from the fabric. Squeezing the excess water out, you press it back against his collarbone, tracing the warm cloth along his neck and over his shoulders. Logan doesn’t move, his eyes half-closed, his expression relaxed in a way you’ve never seen before.

Something deep tugs at you as you realize how vulnerable he is right now, how trusting. He hides behind a gruff exterior, his true self guarded so carefully so that he doesn’t let people in, doesn’t open himself up to the hurt that trusting another person can bring. But maybe you’ve finally cracked through, broken down a little bit of that wall he surrounds himself with.

The warm water drips from his skin as you continue to wash him, letting your fingers trail gently along the newly cleaned lines of his arms. Logan shivers at your touch, but he doesn’t pull away. If anything, he seems to lean into it, his breathing deepening, muscles falling even more slack. 

“Feel nice?” you ask in a murmur, voice barely above a whisper.

He nods, finally glancing up at you through his half-lidded gaze. “’S very nice,” he replies, his voice rough.

“Good. You deserve it,” you say, repeating your sentiment from earlier.

You feel a flicker of warmth as his eyes meet yours and he simply nods. It takes everything in you to not smile too widely, to keep the moment gentle, but you take his acceptance to heart. 

Running the cloth down his ribs, you pause when you feel the misshapen knot of a bruise beneath your fingers and glancing down, you find a deep purple hue coloring his skin. Your eyes dart to his with worry, knowing that an injury like that will take him at least a week to heal, if not longer, in his weakened state. That with every breath he’ll feel the pain of his muscles pulling and the bruise spreading if you’re not touching him.

Dropping the washcloth in the water, you press your palm against his side and take in a deep breath to steady yourself. Then, a warmth spreads from your skin into his as you pull his injury from him, feeling his skin knit back together, feeling his abused muscles realign themselves under his skin. A dull, yet sharp ache, blooms along your ribs as you continue to pull his pain into yourself, erasing the injury from his body. With a final gasp, you draw back, your fingers now running along unmarred flesh knitted whole. 

Logan tilts your chin up, forcing you to meet his gaze as the back of his knuckles brush against your cheek. His eyes flicker to yours, holding your gaze, and for a moment, the room falls into a deep quiet.

That pull between you, the magnetic force that you’ve felt since the beginning, feels amplified now. You’re acutely aware of every inch of space between you—how small it is, how easy it would be to close it. How badly you want to close it. You swallow, feeling the tension coil in your belly as he continues to hold your gaze, unblinking, but more open and raw than he’s ever been before.

“What are you doing to me?” he asks.

Your breath catches in your throat at his question, voice rough and laced with something between wonder and disbelief. As if he can’t quite fathom what you’ve done for him—what you’ve given him so freely.

Logan’s eyes search yours, his fingers drifting from your cheek to trace along your jaw, lingering with a tenderness that belies the man he presents to the outside world. His gaze is steady and intimate, as if he’s trying to understand you in a way that goes beyond words. But you say nothing, your heart pounding too loudly in your ears to form a reply.

“You took it on yourself, my pain?”

You simply nod, distracted by the way Logan’s fingers continue to brush along the edge of your ear, tracing the lines of your face as if he’s afraid you’ll vanish if he lets go. 

“Why?”

“Because I want to,” you whisper, unable to resist the pull of his hand against your skin, the warmth of his touch that you feel with every fiber of your being. “Because it’s the one thing I can do to help you.”

A beat of silence passes, the air thick and heavy with unspoken words. He exhales, shaky and deep, letting his hand slide to the back of your neck. The calloused pads of his fingers press gently against your skin, anchoring you in place and you can feel him pull you closer, his gaze dropping to your lips, his breath mingling with yours in the small, intimate space between you.

“I shouldn’t want this, want you,” he says, voice so low it’s almost a rumble. “But, fuck, I do.” 

His confession is raw, leaving him unguarded for the first time in a long time and before he can pull back, before he can throw those walls back up around himself, you close the gap, resting your forehead against his. You bring your hand up to touch his face, thumb brushing over his cheek as you breath him in, feeling the heat radiate between you. 

Logan’s hand slides further along your neck, his fingers tangling in your hair as he finally, gently, presses his lips to yours. His kiss isn’t demanding or rushed or filled with passion, but a lingering connection, the promise of something more. His lips are softer than you imagined, his touch more careful than you expected, as if he’s afraid he’ll break you. Slowly, his thumb traces circles against your cheek, steadying and soothing, pulling you closer. 

When he pulls back, he rests his forehead against yours, eyes closed. His breath is warm against your skin. “I don’t wanna push you away anymore,” he murmurs.

“Good because I don’t want you to.”

Logan lets out a breath, a hint of a smile finally softening his features. 

Reluctantly, you pull away and pick the washcloth up again, intent on finishing what you started. The water turns to rust as you wash him of blood and grime, making sure you reach each cut, each bruise, each scar on his body that makes up the map of who he is. 

You turn off the tap and hand him a towel, averting your eyes as he stands, wrapping the towel low across his hips. Logan reaches for you, tugging on the collar of your shirt to pull you closer. You stumble a bit as he pulls you in, surprised by the insistence in his grip. Logan’s eyes meet yours, an intensity behind his gaze that makes your breath catch.

“C’mere,” he murmurs, hand slipping along your jaw, his thumb pressing against your bottom lip. 

You’re drawn forward as Logan’s lips find yours again, but this time there’s an urgency behind the kiss, a desperation and need he’s no longer trying to hide. He holds your face gently in his hands as he deepens the kiss, his nose pressing against yours, his beard scraping against your skin and you find yourself melting against him.

This is what you’ve been craving since you met him. Despite it all—the rage simmering just below his surface, the sharpness of his exterior, the sometimes shocking callousness of his words—you always knew there was a tenderness underneath, a softness that even his tortured past couldn’t erase. 

Logan’s hands drift from your face, trailing down your neck and tracing along the curve of your spine as he presses you closer until there’s no space between you. The dampness of his skin bleeds into your shirt and you gasp into his mouth when he shifts his hips just enough and you feel heat of his erection against your thigh.

He pulls away from your mouth long enough to husk against your lips, “I’m old, not dead.” His teeth nip lightly at your bottom lip. “I’ve gotta beautiful woman lettin’ me kiss her, what did you expect?”

Your fingers trail along the edge of the towel slung low across this hips and a thrill runs through you as you feel his abdominal muscles flutter beneath your touch. You peer up at him, noting the flush of his skin, the black of his eyes as you tug the fabric just enough to loosen it. “How long has it been since someone has touched you, Logan?” you ask, your breath warm in the space between you.

Logan’s hands urge your hips closer, seeking friction as he starts to slowly rut against your thigh. You hear him swallow as your fingers dip below the fabric, brushing along the damp hair at the base of his cock. 

“F—fuck,” he groans, guttural and low, his head dropping down to your shoulder. “Since before you.”

The weight of Logan’s confession presses into you and in that moment you want to give him everything. Wrap him in all the love you can muster, show him something other than pain and suffering. 

You move your hand from the towel, allowing the fabric to fall from his waist and pool forgotten on the floor. Logan’s breath catches as your fingers wrap around him fully, the heat and weight of his cock pressing against your palm. 

A ragged groan escapes his throat. “Christ,” he mutters, voice thick and vibrating against your skin. “You don’t gotta—”

“I want to,” you interrupt, slowly and deliberately dragging your hand along his length, tracing the vein along the underside of his cock with your fingertips.

Logan’s hips jerk involuntarily, seeking friction, chasing your hand, and you oblige, tightening your grip just enough to elicit another groan from him. 

“What do you like?” The question lands in the sliver of space between you, your strokes still light, teasing.

“Firmer, more ah—” He breaks off as you tighten your grip on the upstroke. “Fuck, yes, like that, sweetheart.”

A shiver runs down your spine as his hands find your waist, fingers clutching at you almost hard enough to bruise. His breaths are growing uneven, each exhale warm against your neck as he fights to maintain some semblance of control.

“You keep that up,” he rasps, lips grazing your ear, “and I’m not gonna last long.”

His admission sends a rush of pride through you and you tilt your head back to look at him, your thumb brushing over the sensitive head of his cock, spreading the wetness there. Logan’s eyes meet yours, dark and heavy-lidded, his expression raw and unguarded. You like him like this, such a large, imposing man boiled down to pure wanton need. 

“I don’t mind,” you reply, keeping your movements steady, your strokes firm yet gentle. You focus on the subtle shifts in his breathing, the way his fingers grip you tighter each time you find the right rhythm. “Just wanna make you feel good, Logan.”

He leans forward, capturing your lips into a kiss that’s both rough and messy, teeth nipping at your lip as his tongue licks into your mouth. He groans are muffled against your mouth as his hips begin to thrust in time with your strokes, his movements growing more erratic as he chases after his release. 

“Can’t believe—ah, fuck—can’t believe how good you’re makin’ me feel,” he growls against your lips.

You smile into his mouth, your free hand brushing along his hipbone as your strokes quicken. His whole body tenses, the muscles in his shoulders and arms flexing, his abdominal muscles taut as he teeters on the edge.

“Let go, Logan,” you say. “I’ve got you.”

With a strangled groan, he comes, his release spilling over your hand, hot and thick. His body shudders against yours as he buries his face in the crook of your neck. You hold him close as he continues to thrust lazily into your grip, your own movements slowing as you guide him through the aftershocks. 

For a moment, neither of you speaks, then Logan lifts his head, his hazel eyes soft as they meet yours. “You walked into my life and I knew—I knew—you would ruin me.”

You smile to yourself, unable to stop the thought that floats into your head—he’s ruined you as well. 

+++

The text comes in at a little over one AM—hurt.

You jump out of bed, adrenaline rushing through your veins as you slip into one of his discarded flannels and head out into the night. Pacing the driveway, your heart jumps into your throat at every passing headlight, your thumbnail almost bitten down to the quick as you wait for him.

The minutes bleed into eternity until you finally see the limo turn down the long drive and it takes all your willpower to not run and meet him halfway. You’re bouncing on your heels as he finally comes to a stop, the driver’s side door opening with a faint groan of steel. 

Your heart stutters in your chest as he emerges from the car, blood soaking through his shirt, dark and spreading, as he steps towards you on shaky legs. Logan’s face is pale in the moonlight, his breathing uneven and shallow and white-hot dread shoots up your spine as you see his arm hanging limp, two of his claws unsheathed and dripping blood.

“Oh, fuck, fuck!” you gasp, rushing to his side.

Logan tries to wave you off, gritting his teeth as he grips the doorframe. “”M fine,” he grits, but the tremor in his voice betrays him. 

You reach for him, hands already attempting to steady him as his knees buckle and he collapses to the ground beneath him. “Careful. Claws,” he rasps as his left hand seeks purchase against your shoulder.

“I don’t fucking care about your claws, Logan,” you snap, although you both know your anger isn’t at him. You glance up at him and for once you think you actually see fear in his eyes. “What happened?”

“Gas. Robbery.” Each word punches out of his chest, the effort to speak sending tremors down his limbs. “Got ‘em.” He nods down towards his limp arm, claws still unsheathed, but slowly, so slowly starting to retract.

He winces as you help him peel off his coat to get to the shirt underneath. Your fingers shake as they trace the holes the bullets made—one in his shoulder, dangerously close to his lungs and the other just below his ribs. Hooking your fingers through the fabric, you rip it from his chest—the wounds are deep and his skin is hot and slick with sweat.

Panic claws at you and unshed tears burn in your eyes. You’ve seen Logan hurt before, but this—this was different. His breathing is painfully shallow, his usual gruffness and resilience absent. 

“Logan, you’re not healing,” you whisper, your voice shaking as your fingers stain with blood. Logan simply grunts, trying to wave you off, but lacking the strength. “I can’t…I can’t lose you. I can help.”

Logan’s eyes widen as he grabs for your wrist. “No. You’ll hurt yourself.”

“I don’t care!” you shout. “I love you, dammit, and I’m not just going to sit here and watch you die!”

Before he can protest, you press your palms over his wounds, the familiar warmth of your power surging through you as it spreads from your palms into his torn flesh.

The pain hits you like a freight train.

It’s sharp and relentless, searing through your shoulder and into the softness of your belly like molten fire. You gasp, biting back a scream as your body jerks instinctively away from the intensity, every cell in your body demanding you withdraw from the torture. 

But you don’t stop. You cling to him, tears streaming down your face as you channel your power into him, knitting his flesh back together. You can feel it, the way his muscles, bones and tissue rearrange themselves, months of healing taking place in mere moments. Every second feels like an eternity, but you refuse to let go.

You’re dimly aware of Logan yelling at you to stop, his own pain momentarily forgotten as he watches you endure his agony. 

Black dots dance in your vision as the last of his wounds come together, the spent bullets clinking to the gravel and you finally collapse against him, trembling, your breath coming in ragged gasps. The fire in your body begins to dull, fading to a cold, hollow ache as Logan wraps his arms around you, pulling you tight against his chest.

“Hey,” you mumble against him, your voice barely above a whisper. “You’re okay now.”

“Me?” Logan’s voice is low, disbelieving as his hand cradles the back of your head as if you might shatter. “You’re the one—why the fuck would you do that? You could’ve—dammit, you—”

His words break off, his forehead dropping to yours as his breath shudders against your cheek. You can feel the tension radiating through him, warring with himself between his gratitude and anger, between his guilt and the love he’s too afraid to speak out loud.

“I told you why,” you answer, lifting your head to look up at him. 

Logan’s jaw clenches, his words caught in his throat, but his eyes say everything is voice won’t. You don’t need him to say it, not yet, but you can feel it, pressing just below the surface.

“C’mon, let’s get you inside.”

+++

There’s a reverence in which Logan washes you. 

Steam swirls around you as he works the thickly lathered loofah over your shoulders, down across your collarbones and down along the soft planes of your stomach. The water rinses away the faint metallic tang of blood, leaving behind the fresh scent of soap. He continues with a silent determination, as if the act of washing you can erase all the pain you’ve taken from him.

You know better than to convince him you’re fine, that the pain is always temporary, that it only lasts for a few minutes, sometimes just a bit longer. That the pain is something you’d endure for him again and again if he’d let you. 

His thumb brushes along the underside of your ribs, searching for a wound you know he won’t find. You reach for him, lacing your fingers together with his. He blinks up at you, hazel eyes holding far too much worry for such a stoic man.

“I’m not going to break, Logan,” you say softly.

A wordless noice escapes his throat as he removes himself from your grasp and continues to work, ditching the loofah in favor of his hands. His fingers are warm and calloused against your skin as they glide lower, down over the swell of your hips, over your thighs, down towards your knees. 

His touch morphs from one of care and comfort to one more sensual, simmering with unspoken tension as his fingers rest in the hollow behind your knee. You glance down at him, water droplets catching in his hair, running off the slope of his nose. 

Though you’ve seen him bare before, you can help but trace the lines of his body—the broadness of his shoulders, the well defined muscles of his chest, the sturdiness of his thighs, the scars that mar his skin. The sight of him stirs something deep within you and you feel your pulse thrum beneath your skin.

“Logan,” you murmur, your voice almost lost in the sound of the water.

He looks up at you then, eyes locking with yours. A storm swirls within them, a mix of guilt, affection and an intensity that takes your breath away. Leaning in, he presses the barest of kisses to the inside of your knee before he rises to his full height, pressing you close.

“D’you mean what you said before?” he asks, voice low.

I love you, dammit!

“Yes,” you answer without hesitation.

Logan exhales sharply, the tension he’s been holding coiled in his muscles loosening as he loops his arms around your waist. “I’m not very good with words,” he admits, his breath fanning across your damp skin. “Can I show you?”

There’s no mistaking the meaning behind his words and you can only nod, your voice catching in your throat. 

His lips find yours, mouth moving over yours slow and deliberate as if he’s savoring the taste of you. The first touch is a spark, the second a fire, and by the third, it’s an inferno that engulfs you both and leaves you breathless. Logan kisses you like you’re his anchor, his salvation, his touch desperate and full of everything he can’t yet put into words.

Your fingers slide into his hair, gripping the strands at the nape of his neck as you pull him closer, deepening the kiss. He groans against your mouth, the sound swallowed in the space between you. His tongue brushes against yours, teasing and exploring and you respond in kind, your nails scraping along his scalp.

Logan’s control is fraying. You can feel it in the way his teeth nip at your bottom lip, the way his hands press along the curve of your spine, the way he can’t seem to find enough of your skin to touch, to caress. A low growl rumbles through his chest as you slip a hand between your slick bodies, finding his cock, thick and heavy against your belly.

You give one slow drag of your palm along his length before he’s gripping your thighs and forcing your legs around his waist. His mouth leaves yours, trailing down to the curve of your jaw as he presses you against the wall, the coolness of the tile a direct contrast to the heat of your skin and you can’t stop the gasp that escapes your lips. 

Despite his age, the metal bones inside him slowly poisoning him and causing him human aches and pains, he’s still able to hold you up solidly with one arm as the other trails along your hip bone and dips down to where you’re warm and wet. 

“This all for me?” he asks in a murmur, sliding a finger along the seam of your cunt, just barely brushing against your clit. 

Your breath hitches and you grip his shoulders, nails pressing lightly into his skin as you nod. Logan’s eyes darken at your reaction, the faintest hint of a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.

“Yes,” you finally manage to whisper. “Always for you.”

“Good,” he growls, leaning in to nip at the skin just below your ear. The deep rumble of his voice vibrates through you, his touch deliberate and almost torturously slow as he slides his fingers through your folds, spreading your slickness with a focused and unrelenting precision. 

“Oh, fuck,” you gasp, your head tilting back against the wall as he finally presses his thumb to your clit, circling it with just enough pressure to have your thighs trembling around his waist. 

“I got you,” he coos against your skin, his lips trailing from the pulse point in your neck to your collarbone. His teeth scrape along the curve of your shoulder, his free hand gripping your hip tighter to steady you as his fingers continue to tease and coax. “Lemme make you feel good.”

Every nerve ending is afire beneath him, every motion, every stroke of his fingers against your cunt leaving your mind reeling with pleasure. Your nails dig further into corded muscles of his shoulders, desperate for something to anchor yourself to. You pull back when you see the tiny, crescent shaped cuts marring his skin.

His eyes snap up to yours, sharp and molten. “No, do it,” he urges, fingers still moving. “Mark me with somethin’ pretty.”

“Fuck, Logan,” you gasp. 

“Say my name again,” he demands, his voice rough and commanding. There’s a quiet desperation in his tone, as if hearing it grounds him. Grounds him to this moment. To you. 

You can’t help but obey, whispering his name like a prayer, and he rewards you by slipping one long finger inside you, the sensation sending a jolt of pleasure along your spine. Logan watches your face intently as if memorizing the way you react to his touch. When he adds a second finger and slowly begins to thrust his hand, you cling further to him, the heat inside you building to an almost unbearable intensity.

“Good girl,” he murmurs, his voice low and reverent. “You’re so beautiful like this. So wet and warm and tight around me.”

His words barely register in your mind, too focused on the way his fingers curl and thrust inside you, finding that soft spot that makes your eyes roll back. He’s relentless now, his thumb pressing hard against your clit as he brings you closer and closer to the edge.

“Logan, I’m so close,” you whine, your hips beginning to roll against his hand, seeking just a bit more friction, forcing his fingers deeper inside of you.

The tension coiling low in your belly finally snaps, your orgasm washing over you in waves that make your whole body shudder as you cry out his name. Logan holds you through it, his hand continuing to thrust against you as he draws out every ounce of pleasure from you, his own breathing ragged against your skin.

When you finally come down, Logan presses a kiss to your temple as he helps you unwrap your legs from his waist and carefully sets you down, keeping you close. 

You tilt your head to meet his gaze, your fingers tracing the line of his jaw. “I didn’t think you’d be into shower sex, old man,” you tease with a smile.

His laugh is low. “I can make exceptions. I need a bed to fuck you properly, though.” 

“Prove it,” you challenge.

+++

The heat and intensity between you doesn’t diminish as Logan helps you out of the shower and guides you down the hallway towards his bedroom. A shiver of anticipation crawls up your spine as you get closer, knowing that once you cross this line, there’s no going back, that he will have claimed you fully.

You scoot back onto the bed, watching as he approaches you with a fire in his gaze that doesn’t waver. He climbs onto the mattress, knee pressing down between yours as he cages you in from above, gently pinning you beneath him. 

Leaning down, his lips brush against yours, teasing. “Still wanna challenge me, sweetheart?” His voice is a low gravelly growl that sends a prickling rush of arousal down your limbs.

“Always,” you reply breathlessly, arching into his touch as his hands slide down your thighs, parting them with ease. 

His grin is sharp as he leans back to take you in fully and you acutely feel the weight of his gaze against your skin. He traces his calloused fingers over your damp skin, along the dips of your collarbones, under the swell of each breast, mapping the curve of your hips as if committing you to memory. Dipping his head, he leans down between your legs, his beard grazing the sensitive skin of your inner thighs and you can’t help but shudder at the sensation.

“You’re so fuckin’ beautiful,” he says, almost to himself, his voice dripping with desire. He drags his lips higher, brushing along your damp cunt, his breath hot and tantalizing. “And all mine.”

The possessiveness in his tone has you clenching around nothing, heat pooling low in your belly and your fingers tangle in his hair, urging him closer. But he ignores your silent plea, almost deliberately testing your patience as he kisses you everywhere except where you want him most.

“Logan, please,” you gasp, the ache between your thighs almost painful.

“Patience,” he chides with a smirk, though his own resolve seems to be thinning. His hands grip your hips, pulling you closer before he flattens his palms against your thighs, opening you fully to him. Then, his tongue is on you, lapping at you with flat, broad strokes in a rhythm that quickly has you teetering on the edge.

Logan’s focus is unrelenting, his low growls of approval vibrating through you as he works you over with an enthusiasm that proves to you this is about more than just pleasure—he’s claiming you, showing you just how much you mean to him. Making you his. 

Your thighs tremble around him and his warm, rough hands hold you steady as he slips one, then two fingers deep inside of you. It’s embarrassing how quickly you come as he thrusts his fingers against that spot inside you, your second orgasm of the night crashing over you as his name falls from his lips in a breathless moan. 

Before you can properly catch your breath, Logan is moving from between your thighs, making his way back up your body, leaving wet, open-mouthed kisses against your skin. His lips finally find yours in a kiss that’s messy and desperate and you can taste yourself on his tongue, sharp and bright, and the intimacy of it sends a thrill through you. 

“You taste so fuckin’ good,” he groans against your lips, his voice wrecked as he grinds his hips against yours, his cock hard and insistent against your hip. “Could spend the rest of my life between between those thighs.”

“Why stop there?” you tease, your lips tugging into a smirk. “I thought you said you’d fuck me properly.”

Logan’s eyes darken, your challenge seeming to light something dark and primal in him. His grin is all teeth as he sits back on his heels, hands curling around your hips and pulling you down the bed like you weigh nothing until your hips are flush with his. “You gotta mouth on you, sweetheart. Should we see if you can still talk stuffed full of my cock?”

The weight of his cock brushes against your slick folds and you gasp at the sensation, your nerve endings exquisitely sensitive. Logan grips himself at the base, giving himself one languid stroke before running the thick head along your cunt, teasing you with shallow thrusts. Each slow, deliberate stroke of him sliding against you leaves you desperate and aching and you lift your hips in search of more.

“Look at you,” he murmurs. “So needy. Bet you’ll take me so well, huh?”

“Yes,” you breathe, nails digging into the muscles of his forearms. “Please.”

He presses into you then, the stretch of his cock making your jaw drop as he takes his time, sinking in inch by inch, filling you completely. Logan’s gaze is locked on yours, heavy and possessive as he watches every flicker of pleasure cross your face. 

“Fuck” he groans when he’s fully seated against your hips, his body trembling with the effort to stay still. “You feel…so fuckin’ tight. So damn perfect.”

Your hands clutch at his shoulders, anchoring yourself to him as he starts to move, pulling out torturously slow before thrusting back in harder, setting a rhythm that’s relentless and consuming. Each stroke of his hips has you crying out, your body arching into his as you meet him thrust for thrust.

“Takin’ me so well, sweetheart,” he growls, his fingers gripping the flesh of your hips hard enough to bruise as he continues to pound into you. “Like you were made for me.”

The sound of skin slapping against skin fills the room, mixing in with your whimpered moans and Logans own ragged groans. He leans down, bracing himself on his forearms, the wiry hair on his chest teasing your nipples as his lips find your neck, biting and sucking marks into your skin that feel like promises.

Your legs wrap around his waist, pulling him in deeper, your heels digging into his back as the coil inside you begins to tighten once more. He feels it too, the way you body clenches around him, and his pace falters slightly, his breaths coming faster.

“C’mon,” he rasps against the pulse point on your neck. “Wanna feel you come. Wanna make you fall apart.”

It doesn’t take much more—just a few more well-angled thrusts that hit that spot inside you and the tension finally snaps, your orgasm ripping through you with a force that leaves you trembling. Logan’s finesse is slipping, thrusts growing erratic as chases his own release.

“Come Logan,” you manage in a whisper. “Come for me.”

His hips stutter as he groans your name, spilling into you as his body tenses, lazily thrusting against you as he wrings out the last of his pleasure. He stays deep inside you, still for several moments before he shifts just enough to collapse against your side.

For a long moment, neither of you moves, the only sounds in the room being your heavy breathes and the pounding of your heart. Logan rests his head against your chest, heavy and sweat slick between your breasts. You brush at the strands of hair against his forehead before running your finger along the old scar on his cheek.

He lifts his head to look up at you, his gaze soft yet still simmering with hunger. “I do, you know,” he murmurs. His fingers brush idly against your skin. “Love you.”

A smile spreads across your face, warming blooming in your chest.

“I know.”

+++

You wake before he does, rolling over to find him prone, face buried in the pillow he hugs close to his chest. Sunlight filters in through the half slatted blinds, catching on the silver in his hair and beard and you can’t help but admire how handsome he looks, how at peace he is beside you. He’s relaxed in sleep for the first time since you came here. You’ve heard his growls and yelps of terror that echo in the night, seen the claw marks that pierce his sheets.

Your mind filters back to last night and how he looked as he came apart inside you, how desperate and needy he was for your touch upon his skin. The memory of his gasps and groans send a rush of warmth over your skin, making you dimly aware of the ache between your legs. Logan, so guarded, so unyielding and seemingly unbreakable, trembled as he came, his voice rough and wrecked as he called out your name. You shiver thinking about it.

You want to hear it again. But not now.

Resisting the urge to reach out and brush the hair from his forehead, you leave him undisturbed and slide out of bed. Padding into the kitchen, you find Charles sitting in his chair at the kitchen table, the newspaper spread out in front of him. He looks up at you with a warm smile as you start a pot of coffee, the machine humming to life. 

“Ah, I see,” he comments, a smirk tugging at his lips.

You glance over at Charles, his eyes back on the paper in front of him, but his smile still paints his face, sly and knowing. Heat creeps up your neck as you busy yourself with the coffee. “Are you reading my mind?” you ask, trying to force nonchalance into your tone.

Charles chuckles softly and taps at his temple. “I don’t have to. You’re projecting. And quite loudly, at that.”

You bite your lip as you fill your mug, leaning against the counter as the coffee warms your hands. You attempt to clear your mind, trying to think of anything mundane—the weather, baseball, laundry. Charles just shakes his head. “Relax, my dear. What the two of you do together as consenting adults is none of my business.”

“Oh, God,” you groan, your cheeks aflame. “That’s what I’m projecting?”

“Not that explicitly, no. You think more in feelings, rather than words. But they’re quite powerful emotions and rather hard to ignore when they’re radiating as strongly as yours are this morning.”

You bury your face in your hand, peeking at Charles through your fingers, which only seems to amuse him further. “You’re enjoying this far too much,” you mutter. 

“Perhaps,” Charles says with a laugh. “But you’re helping him. Healing him. And that, my dear, is worth everything.” 

Before you can respond, you hear the sound of heavy footsteps coming down the hall. Logan rounds the corner, hair tousled from sleep, his body still bare except for the pair of low slung sweatpants clinging to his hips. His eyes find yours first, softening in a way they rarely do for anyone else as he scratches at the back of his head and mumbles, “Mornin’.”

“Morning,” you reply with a smile, thankful for the distraction. You pour a second cup of coffee and offer it up to him. “Coffee?”

Logan grunts in affirmation, moving towards you, but instead of reaching for the mug, he loops an arm around your waist, pulling you against him. He buries his face in your neck, beard scraping against your skin as he sighs. “Didn’t like wakin’ up with you not there,” he breathes into your hair, his voice so low you almost don’t hear him.

“Sorry,” you whisper. “I didn’t want to disturb you.”

“S’okay,” he says softly, pressing the lightest of kisses just under your ear. “Next time, wake me.”

Your heart stutters against your ribs at his open display of affection, the softness and warmth in which he holds you, and the promise behind his words. From over his shoulder you see Charles give you a slight nod, a bright smile on his face before he turns his attention back to the newspaper in front of him.

You think back to what Charles told you all those months ago, about how you were a home for Logan. Those words echo in your mind as you feel Logan’s steady weight against you. He’s so different now, soft and unguarded and in that moment you know.

You’re home, too.

[reiding-writing]

I love the team teasing cold!Reader and Spencer hshsh. How about when they are in a case and Spencer is in danger and she is just desperate trying to get to him?

FACE TO FACE — SPENCER REID!

you threaten to crack under the stress of spencer’s abduction.

spencer reid x cold!reader | h/c | 1.2k | cold!reader masterlist.

main masterlist.

a/n — cold!readers origin story is taking so long i needed to take a break and work on something else 😭

The air in the BAU’s makeshift command center was heavy with tension, the only sound the incessant clicking of Garcia’s keyboard and the faint hum of monitors displaying a live feed. On one of the screens, Spencer was hunched over in a chair, blood dripping from a cut above his eyebrow, his hands bound behind him.

The unsub paced in and out of the frame, holding a metal pipe.

Your fingers curled into fists as you stared at the screen, your stomach twisted in knots. Spencer’s soft grunts of pain, muffled by the gag in his mouth, made you want to smash something—or someone.

“Garcia,” you barked, voice sharp and cold. “How long until you trace the signal?”

Penelope flinched at your tone but kept her focus on the screen. “I—I’m working on it! The unsub’s bouncing the signal off half a dozen different servers—”

“I don’t care about the technical details,” you snapped, pacing. “Just hurry up.”

Derek Morgan stepped in, his voice steady but firm. “Hey, we’re all doing the best we can. Yelling at Garcia isn’t gonna make this go any faster,”

You stop pacing to turn to him, ice in your glare. “We need faster, Morgan. He’s—” You cut yourself off, unable to finish the sentence as Spencer let out another muffled cry on the screen. The unsub had struck him across the shoulder, causing him to slump forward.

Your jaw clenched as you spun back to the screen. “Come on, Reid,” you murmured under your breath. Your voice was barely audible, but the desperation in it made the team exchange glances. For all your cold, aloof demeanor, this was the first time they’d seen real cracks.

Hotch’s voice cut through the room like a whip. “Garcia, update.”

“I’m close, sir,” she said, her voice trembling. “But it’s not as simple as just pulling a trace. They’re using layers of encryption, and—”

“And he doesn’t have time for this-!” you snapped again, leaning over her desk. You caught yourself shaking, barely keeping it together.

On the screen, Spencer lifted his head, his eyes half-lidded but somehow defiant. The unsub grabbed him by the collar and yanked him upright, barking something inaudible to the camera.

You watch the way Spencer winces, how he refuses to break eye contact with his captor. His lips moved, and though you couldn’t hear what he was saying, you recognised the look. He was stalling. Buying time.

You inhaled sharply, forcing yourself to focus. Your cold fury had always been your armour, your defense mechanism, but right now, it felt like a weight pulling you under. The team needed you sharp. Spencer needed you sharp.

Emily’s hand landed on your shoulder, grounding you. “We’re going to get him back,” she said softly.

You didn’t answer, your eyes fixed on the screen. Another blow landed, and this time, Spencer couldn’t hold back the cry of pain. Your fingernails bit into your palm.

“I can’t just sit here and watch this,” you muttered, turning toward Hotch. “Let me take a team. Let me—”

“We don’t know where he is yet,” Hotch said, his voice calm but resolute. “The signal—”

“The signal,” you interrupted, your voice rising, “is taking too long. Every second we waste is another second he’s in danger.”

Hotch met your gaze, unflinching. “And every second we rush is another second we risk losing him entirely. You know that.”

You swallowed hard, feeling the weight of his words, but it didn’t make the helplessness any easier to bear. “He’ll die before we find him at this rate.”

You didn’t want to think about it like that. You didn’t want to think about the fact that a blow misplaced agaisnt Spencer’s head, or his torso, could mean whatever clock he had on his life would stop before you even knew where he was.

You didn’t want to think about the fact that even if you did get a location he could be too far away to get to him.

You needed a headstart. You needed to be out there, actually searching for him instead of standing around and waiting like an idiot.

Garcia let out a triumphant gasp. “Got it! I’ve got a location!”

And your head goes quiet.

Everyone surged into action at once. Hotch barked orders, Morgan grabbed his vest, and you were already halfway to the door. As the team piled into the SUVs, your focus narrowed to one singular thought: getting to Spencer.

The drive felt like an eternity, your mind racing with worst-case scenarios despite your best efforts to suppress them. When the vehicles screeched to a halt outside an abandoned warehouse, you didn’t wait for orders. You shoved the door open and bolted toward the entrance.

“Wait!” Morgan called after you, but you were already inside, gun drawn, heart pounding.

“FBI! Drop it!” you shouted, your voice echoing through the cavernous space.

The unsub spun toward you, startled, but he recovered quickly, pulling Spencer from the chair to use him as a human shield.

“Stay back, or I’ll kill him,” the unsub hissed, pulling the metal pipe across Spencer’s throat between tow hands.

Your grip trembles as you aim your gun, your finger hovering over the trigger. “Let him go.” you demanded, your voice icy despite the panic swirling inside you.

Spencer met your eyes, breath coming out in pants from the pressure on his esophagus. “Don’t—” he croaked, but his words were cut off as the unsub tightened his grip.

"I’ll do it!" the unsub threatened.

A shot rings out.

The unsub crumpled to the ground, blood pooling beneath him, Morgan’s form emerging to fill the space, his gun still raised.

There’s a moment where you can’t do anything but breathe, and then your legs carry you forward to push the unsub’s limp body off of Spencer’s tugging the latter to sit upright.

“Reid—” Your eyes scan the bruises on his face, on his shoulders and down his arms. “How much pain are you in?”

For once, you didn’t care about the team watching. You didn’t care about your reputation as the cold, detached one. All that mattered was that Spencer was alive, and you needed to make sure it stayed that way.

“I need to go to the hospital,” Spencer grimaces, his hand weak against your arm as he uses you as a support.

“There’s an ambulance outside, pretty boy,” Morgan kneels tentatively, hesitantly pressing a hand to his back to aid in Spencer’s effort not to fall over. “We’ve got you from here,”

[capquinn]

cant stop thinking putting quinn in the dog house for something he did and him being super clingy and yeah😔😔(im down bad for this man)

STOP he’d be a freaking nightmare to deal with in the dog house and you’d get no satisfaction out of it 😭😭😭

So the thing about Quinn is that he doesn’t mess up often — not in the big ways, at least. So when he does, it hits him like a freight train. He’s not the kind of guy to brush it off or pretend it didn’t happen; he feels it. Deeply. Which is probably why, after whatever dumb thing he’d done, he’d been moping around the house like a kicked puppy for days.

And it wasn’t like you’d slammed a door or screamed at him when it happened. You’d just went quiet. Pulled away. You didn’t even mean to — it was just instinct. But he noticed, of course he did, because Quinn notices everything when it comes to you. And the worst part? You didn’t yell. You didn’t even seem angry. You just looked… hurt.

And that gutted him.

He’d tried giving you space at first, thinking maybe that’s what you wanted. But Quinn’s not a man built for distance. Not from you, atleast. So by day two, he was trailing after you like a lost child, his big, stupid, guilty eyes following you around the house, looking for any sign of forgiveness.

“Need any help with dinner?”

“No, I’m fine.”

“I can chop the onions? Or, uh, wash the dishes after?”

“I’ve got it, Quinn.”

It was killing him. Every clipped sentence, every soft sigh chipped away at him bit by bit. And yeah, maybe you weren’t outright ignoring him, but your responses were just polite enough to make him feel the weight of the distance between you. The worst kind of punishment, because it wasn’t really punishment at all — it was just the consequence of hurting someone you love.

By day three, he was in full-on grovel mode. Apologies spilling out of him whenever you so much as glanced his way. Little touches — on your shoulder, your hand, your waist — tentative and quick, like he wasn’t sure if he was allowed anymore. And the kicker? He started leaving you notes. Notes. Like he was a middle schooler trying to get his crush back.

“I’m sorry.”

“You’re right. I was a jerk.”

“I’ll make it up to you. Promise.”

They’d pop up everywhere — on the fridge, on your pillow, even in your bag when you were heading out the door. And it wasn’t even annoying; it was just… Quinn. Pathetic in the most endearing way, his guilt so genuine it practically radiated off him.

When he finally couldn’t take it anymore, he cornered you in the kitchen, his hands shoved into his pockets, his shoulders hunched like he was bracing for impact.

“I hate this,” he muttered, his voice quiet but steady. “I hate that I hurt you. I hate that you can’t even look at me without…” He trailed off, his brow furrowing. “I’ll fix it. Whatever it takes. Just tell me how.”

And how could you stay mad at that? At the man who looked at you like you hung the stars, who was so bad at being in trouble because the thought of being out of your good graces was unbearable to him?

You didn’t say anything right away, just stepped forward and wrapped your arms around his middle, pressing your forehead against his chest. His arms came around you instantly, like he’d been waiting for it, and you felt the tension in his body melt away as he buried his face in your hair.

“I’m sorry,” he murmured again, his voice breaking slightly, and this time, you didn’t just hear the words — you felt them.

“I know,” you said softly, and the weight of it all seemed to lift in that moment.

Quinn would hold you there for as long as you let him, his grip firm but careful, like he was still afraid you might slip away. And when you finally pulled back, his eyes would search yours, full of hope and relief and that quiet, unshakable love that made forgiving him the easiest thing in the world.

[2amriize]

.ᐟ long distance relationship with RIIZE ༉‧₊˚.

req: Requesting a long distance relationship with RIIZE😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭 ...

pairing: bf!riize x reader — masterlist

⭑.ᐟ shotaro

Shotaro would have a really hard time. He loves you too much, and knowing he can't be by your side during your happy moments or when you're enjoying life would hurt him deeply. Even so, he’d send you lots of gifts, like flowers or chocolates, whenever he could, as he says, to be "by your side in some way."

⭑.ᐟ eunseok

It wouldn’t be too hard because the days you’re apart would go by quickly. Every night, you’d play games together on Discord or watch a movie, and you’d spend practically the whole day talking. Still, you’d make sure to see each other at least once a month.

⭑.ᐟ sungchan

Sungchan is way too impatient for a long-distance relationship. He can’t go even a week without seeing or touching you. He’d visit you whenever he could, squeezing it into any small gap in his schedule. Eventually, you’d decide to move in together or live closer to one another.

⭑.ᐟ wonbin

Wonbin would always say he’s handling it well, but you both know he’s just fooling himself. Even though you’d always be talking and sharing everything over the phone, sometimes you’d crave physical contact; a hug, a kiss, or simply the feel of his hand on your cheek.

⭑.ᐟ seunghan

He’d always be attentive to your messages, replying instantly or as soon as he could, just like you. Honestly, it would be really tough for both of you, and you wouldn’t be able to stop crying whenever you had to say goodbye after spending a few days together.

⭑.ᐟ sohee

Sometimes it would be challenging since neither of you is great at texting regularly. However, you’d make a habit of calling each other whenever you needed support. Weekly check-ins would be a must, where you’d call to talk about how your week went.

⭑.ᐟ anton

It wouldn’t be too difficult for either of you. You’d always text and send each other photos and videos of what you’re up to. Plus, you’d FaceTime every night, chatting until you both fell asleep. Anton would visit whenever he could, making sure to spend at least one weekend a month with you.

masterlist // taglist: @regularsuh @gacktsa @totheseok @kkumistars @taroddori @enhacolor @ladylilith @electric-hearts @astrobymarwa @layluv123 @sunflowers1610 @nctrawberries @synkjellies @ramyeonzprincess

[redcherrykook]

ִֶָ── ࣪ ִֶָ🦇་༘࿐ Kinktober D23- begging

────☠︎︎────

content: reader begs JK obv, whiny reader, fingering, neck kisses, praise

note from cherry: these keep getting shorter 😭 also yes i said i wanted to write smth other than smut but oh well

────☠︎︎────

Jungkook's skilled fingers dance little patterns on your thigh, leaving a trace of goosebumbs in his wake as they keep making their way up higher,

"you looks so cute trying to keep your whines in" he mutters, leaning his plump lips closer to your neck, you can feel his breath paiting your skin warm,

"don't tease me please" you find yourself mumbling, biting down on your bottom lip as his decorated fingers finally reach their destination,

"Tell me how much you want me to touch you pretty girl" he nips at the shell of your ear, tongue grazing to your earlobe that he briefly sucks on before leaving gentle, open mouth kisses down your neck

the arousal pools inside your sticky panties, the pads of his fingers apply pressure to your clit, drawing excruciatingly small and slow circles on it,

your voice stammers, "please kook, want you to touch me so much, i need it kook please"

he smiles against your wet, smoothe skin as he claims it with his mouth, gentle nips and kisses that move in synce with his fingers,

"Hmm.. where do you want it baby? What would you like me to do my love"

Your heart hammers against your chest, breath hitching as his digits creep down to feel up your wetness, gliding his fingers along your soaked underwear, clinging to your feminity,

"please kook"

he hums, licking his way back up your neck to whisper inside your ear,

"please what baby? Come on, you can do it"

with an airy, sweet voice you hide beneath your hands, the blush flushes your skin as your mumbled words leave your lips,

"please finger me kook.. i want it so much"

Your boyfriend coos, stroking your head with his free hand, the other one shoves your panties to the side, now making contact with your warmth directly

"good girl, did such a good job.. let me give you what you want"

his voice rings hotly in your ear, you can feel your entire body relax as he runs his fingers through your folds, coating his long digits in your arousal before plunging both of them inside your cunt,

"mhh- please.." you moan, letting the small whiney noises tumble out beneath your lips, his fingers move immediately, pushing them deep into you before pulling out- repeating the action over and over, lips latching onto your neck again,

"feels good doesn't it?" he asks, grinning softly as your noises fill up his ears, fingers working tirelessly to satisfy you,

"mhm" you mumble, nodding your head thats dropped down, thighs trembling ever so slightly, the pool inside your lower belly becomes more evident, pressing into you with the upcoming orgasm,

nails digging into his foearm, your moans get louder, more vulgar as you clench onto his fingers,

"beg me for it sweetheart, i know you can" jungkook rasps, removing his mouth from your neck to watch your flushed face, big eyes staring at him while you're busy moaning, stammering to let out little pleas,

"come on pretty" he says, slowing down his fingers to provoke you,

it works of course, head shaking in eagerness,

"no.. no.. please don't stop kook, fuck please kook, please" your words get more hectic, looking at him with a pleading look,

"more baby, beg me for it like i know you can" he kisses the side of your face, letting his fingers pick up the pace inside of you again, motivated by the little cries that you sing for him,

"please- mh.. please kook, please let me cum" your legs tense, eyes squeezed shut from the intensity that he fucks his fingers into you with, but he doesn't budge, doesn't tell you to let go for him,

"sound so good.. doing so well baby, give me more of those little sounds will you?"

his long fingers reach deeper inside you, curling up slighty, his thumb meets your clit with every harsh push inside your drenched walls,

to hold on gets more and more impossible, hands cramped inside the sheets, your knuckles have turned white and your words barely audible between whines,

"please let me cum, please i can't- i.. please, please, please"

You practically cry out at the last word, Jungkook finally caves in, feeling the strain in his hard cock at your submissive nature as he's muttering into your ear,

"let go for me pretty.. that's it.."

[saphiccarma]

Can I request a Rio x Reader one shot where Reader gets hurt during her trial and Rio takes care of her afterwards ? Just some sweet hurt/ comfort 😭

- Did you get enough love, my little dove?

Relationships: Rio Vidal x Reader

Summary: After Alice's trial, comes yours. You weren't prepared to deal with past memories of pain.

Warnings: Violence. Angst. Fluff

A/N: I'm sorry that the requests are taking so long for me to get through! I promise I'm working on them.

The New Moon was high in the sky, its light shining down through the trees. You meandered at the back of the group, Rio lingering next to you, her hand brushing against yours, soft and gentle. Rio wasn't often a kind person, often preferring to hide her care behind teasing remarks, but when she caught sight of the moon in the sky she knew who's trial it would be.

The coven approached a little cabin that stood there, bright grass blooming around it and flowers blossoming in the front. Your breath caught in your throat at the sight of the familiar building, your steps halting. Rio glanced back at you, a brow raised in a challenge, and your pride flared. You huffed before moving forward and marching towards the house.

"Who's trial is this?" Teen asked, examining the door that was locked. It had runes carved onto the front; ones meticulously carved out after days of work. You remember working them onto the door by hand, a project you devoted yourself to for days. You had carved runes all over the walls of the house, preventing other witches from using their magic, but the runes on the door were for a special reason alone.

Agatha hummed as she examined the runes before turning back to you with an expectant brow. The witch had visited you once while you lived here, searching for another gullible victim before moving on. You stepped up to the house, muttering a small spell and pressed your hand up to the door. The runes glowed a soft blue before it opened with a click. Jen muttered something to Alice behind you.

The coven entered the door and the minute they did, everyone disappeared. It seems this was a trial meant for you alone. While it struck you as odd, since the Road was intended for the coven, you let it slide. You scanned your old house, taking it in. The fireplace was lit with a few logs burning inside it. A book was set on the table in the center of the room, it's cover from having read it over and over.

You picked it up, reading over the pages as a soft smile crossed your face - peace washing over you. It was a book your mother had read to you as a child, an old book, and you could still hear her soft words as she stroked your hair. You didn't have the exact copy, it had been burned by witch hunters years ago, but this was close enough.

Just as you were about to settle on the couch, lost in the world of the book, the door burst open, shouts filling the room. You leapt up, hands poised to fight as you caught sight of familiar faces. Men, with masks on their face, and knives in their hands. Modern witch hunters. No guns, guns were too loud, too avoidable with magic. Backing up, your hands pressed into the wall. Their eyes were alight with sinister intent.

You glanced down at your hands as blue magic glowed, but also noticed that you were devoid of the scars you had received many years ago. The men approached, slowly, cornering you, and then one lunged. The minute he lunged, you copied your movements from the past, not learning from your mistakes, and tried to blast him. He flew back, hitting the wall, slumped and lifeless. It was one of the only times you had taken a life.

Even if you knew it happened, you stared horrified at his hollowed chest. You magic had created the gaping whole that tore all the way through him, burnt so that no blood could come out. It was a horrifying sight, one you would never get used to, no matter how many times you had killed.

While you were stunned another one of the men lunged, his hands securing a rope around yours.

Your magic was incapacitated.

You fought as he grabbed your wrists, hauling you close to the fire. Memories of the first time this happened were seared into your brain, but there was nothing you could do. No matter how hard you thrashed, no matter how much you kicked and screamed. Even as you cried for Rio, for anyone in the coven, it did nothing. The man pulled you down to the ground and so close to the fire that the heat licked your skin.

Taking a hold of your forearms, the witch hunter shoved your hands into fire. You clenched your teeth as it burned your fingers, refusing to let the pain escaped in the form of screams.

"You use these hands to hurt so many people, don't you?" he snarled into your ear, the words cutting deep into your chest. And before you had time to process them, there was a cold metal pressed against your back as the hem of your shirt was lifted up.

You knew what was coming. The blade pressed into your skin as you hands began to go numb into the fire. Words were carved into your back, painful and slow and tedious. Before he could finish both of the men were torn away. Rio had thrown one of them into the wall with Teen and Agatha tearing the other away from you.

Rio rushed forward after killing the man swiftly with her knife, rushing forward towards you. You scrambled back, wrists held tight to your chest and eyes frantically scanning the area. Pausing, Rio took in your state, and her face softened.

"My love," she cooed, crouching down and reaching out, but not touching, "It's Rio."

Your eyes met hers, and although it took you a moment to recognize her, you threw yourself at her, regardless of the pain, clinging to her desperately. With numb fingers, you sobbed into her shirt - hardly noticing that the back door slid open, revealing the road. Teen and Agatha stood away, the latter eyeing you with an odd mix of disdain and pity.

"Sweetheart, we have to leave." Rio gently helped you up, ignoring your whimper of pain and guided you out the door and onto the road once more. Once that was done your wounds vanished, disappearing completely.

You nearly sobbed in relief, until you noticed the scars still lingered. Some part of you had hoped they would be gone. Teen and Alice tried to approach you. He reached his hand out to touch your arm, a thing meant to be comforting, but Rio had her knife out as you flinched.

"Touch her and I will fucking kill you." She snarled, pulling you close, ignoring Agatha's scoff and Jen's annoyed sound. Rio dragged the two of you further away and set you down on the ground, gently sitting next to you.

You curled into her, resting your head on her lap as she stroked her hands through your hair. It felt divine to have her fingers tracing your jaw and slipping up and down your neck. Sighing, you pushed back into her stomach so that your face was buried. Her outfit allowed for skin-to-skin contact, and her cold skin was a nice contrast to the heat of the fire you had felt moments ago. Rio chuckled slightly, her fingers pausing, and she bent down to give place a tender kiss onto your head.

You were shaking in her gentle hold, eyes trained forward as you tried to push away the dull phantom pain and the lingering memories that danced beneath your eyes. Rio's fingers were soothing as they stroked your chin. A steady movement - up and down, tracing back up into your hair before going back down.

"I'm sorry I wasn't there," she whispered. You shook your head into her stomach, non-verbally telling her it wasn't her fault. Slowly, your body stopped shaking, but you still clung to her desperately. Her presence was grounding. She made you feel safe even though you felt like witch hunters would pop around the corner and attack you.

The two of you sat there in silence for a while, your head pressed into her stomach while she soothed your worried mind.

"You won't ever leave, right?" Your words were broken and raw, vulnerability at its truest form. At least for you.

Rio's hands froze in your hair, but she leaned down and pressed a kiss to your temple, "Never."

[demonic0angel]

EDA >:DD

Look, I just... I need more of that... Jorgu... Jorguman... Jorguamdnra?? I can't pronounce that shit— CLARK/DAN SHIP :33. Can we have a uhm, continuation <333

Don't break your wrist if you don't have any more ideas on how to continue it

-A.E. 👻

(Ayo, worry more about your thumb!! 😭)

Part 1

Superman continued to hold onto the man as they all traveled down the hallways silently. The woman, named Jazz, told him the story of what happened before he arrived.

Originally, she had ruled over the Infinite Realms, a place that was the opposite of the living realm, as queen regent, but when she gave up her position to their little brother Danny, he had been cursed alongside their little sister. Since previous rulers were forbidden from taking back the throne after being thrown off or abdicating, the crown was given to the other brother, Dan (nicknamed from Danny, which was weird).

“So now they’re children?” Superman asked for clarification, eying the two sleeping children in Jazz’s arms. They stepped over more bodies as they continued moving.

She nodded grimly. “The true crown belongs to Danny, since he is the one who acquired the crown through right of conquest. However, for the last few years, Dan has been the one taking up the role as king in order for there to be a ruler while the throne remains empty. He had been doing really good… he quit smoking, he stopped killing, he was healing…” The sad look in her eyes darkened into rage. “But the GIW ruined everything.”

“The GIW?” Superman asked, as he silently picked up a piece of debris to allow them all passage through the wrecked hallways.

“We call them the Guys in White, but their real name is the Ghost Investigation Ward, and they’re a government agency created and designed to hunt down ghosts. They’re a bunch of fanatic, genocidal hard heads who won’t rest until they nuke all ghosts and kill us all,” Jazz said, her tone venomous. “We can’t fight against them, so we’ve been largely distracting them with other targets. It seems that somehow, they found a way into the Ghost Zone to capture Danny and Ellie.”

The girl in her arms stirred and Jazz shushed her gently. “Shh, Dani, go back to sleep. It’s okay, I’m taking care of it.”

She fell back asleep and they didn’t stop moving. Superman digested the information, holding Dan closer to his chest. Said man was clinging onto him, arms wrapped around him as he remained asleep to the world.

He looked so innocent and lovely, unlike that murderous monster that Superman couldn’t understand just moments before.

But now, Superman was conflicted as he understood his motives.

“Why… Why did he relapse so badly?” Superman asked, a hand involuntarily moving from Dan’s back to stroke his long hair.

Jazz gave him a backwards glance and clarified, “Dan?”

“Yes.”

“… he didn’t come from our timeline. He’s from another world, where everyone in his family— us— died. He was possibly psychologically tortured by our godfather and then he broke down even further, enough that he asked to be split in two so he could feel better. It didn’t work. He nearly killed our godfather and then he absorbed the evil in him. It turned him insane and he destroyed everything. After he completely destroyed his world, he set sight on ours. He nearly killed me and Danny.”

Superman stared wide eyed at her. “And you forgave him?”

She turned back and smiled softly. “He’s my little brother. I’d forgive him for anything. And he’s much better now. He wasn’t well before. But he’s gotten help and he made the effort. He worked hard to be a better person, but the GIW set him back. So after we finish taking care of them, we’ll take care of him.”

Superman clutched at Dan even harder, a mixture of awe and inspiration taking over him. The movement must’ve jostled him, because Dan snuffled, rubbing his fine facial hair against Superman’s neck. Superman withheld a shudder and said determinedly, “I’ll help you.”

“Hmm. Much appreciated. Could you stop snuggling my little brother now?”

Superman blushed bright red. “Oh! I’m so sorry!” He hadn’t thought she would’ve noticed.

Jazz turned her head enough to give him a disdainful look but didn’t say anything. Danny, peeking over her shoulder, opened his eyes and glared at him. Superman flushed and loosened his grip on Dan, whose expression turned disgruntled from losing warmth as he whined.

Oh dear. How embarrassing.