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thirtysomethingloser92 · 3 months ago

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Summary: You, Remy and Anna realise that three isnt' always a crowd. Warnings: 18+ ONLY. Smut.

Remy and Anna sat at the kitchen table, the familiar shuffle of cards the only sound breaking the quiet. Remy’s hands moved with practiced ease, flipping the deck in a game of solitaire, but his mind wasn’t on the cards. Not really.

His eyes kept drifting toward you, standing at the kitchen counter, completely absorbed in making yourself a sandwich. You weren’t doing anything special—just spreading jam on bread—but something about the way you moved, the way you hummed softly to yourself, had him distracted. His gaze lingered on your fingers, watching as you absently wiped a bit of jam off the knife with your thumb, then brought it to your lips, licking it clean without a second thought.

Remy’s throat tightened, and he quickly looked back down at his cards, trying to focus, but the image of you licking that jam from the knife stuck in his mind. He shuffled the deck again, his movements a little too fast, a little too jerky. He swallowed hard, willing himself to get a grip.

Across the table, Anna-Marie watched him with a slow, knowing smile. She’d been watching him closely for the past few minutes, catching the way his eyes kept drifting to you, the way his jaw tightened every time you did something as simple as lick the knife or brush your hair back from your face. She knew exactly what was going on in his head. After all, she had the same thoughts.

She leaned back in her chair, crossing her arms over her chest, her smirk widening as she watched Remy struggle to keep his cool. “Ya know, swamp rat,” she drawled quietly, “ya keep starin’ like that, and you’re gonna burn a hole through the table.”

Remy’s head snapped up, a guilty look flashing across his face. He quickly tried to hide it, but it was too late. Anna had caught him red-handed. “Ain’t starin’ at nothin’, chère,” he muttered, his accent thick, but there was no mistaking the tension in his voice.

“Uh-huh.” Anna’s smirk was full of mischief, her eyes flicking between you and Remy. She could read him like a book—always had been able to. “Right. So that little show with the jam didn’t catch your attention just now?”

It had been six months since that night in the common room—the night that had turned everything upside down.

The small common room was alive with the soft hum of conversation and the occasional clink of mugs as the three of you sat together, trying to unwind after the mission. The room itself was dimly lit, its worn furniture and mismatched décor giving it a sense of familiarity, of comfort. But tonight, there was an undercurrent of tension that neither Anna nor Remy could ignore. It had been there for a while now, lurking beneath the surface, but tonight, it felt like it was teetering on the edge of something neither of them could control.

Anna sat on the couch, her legs tucked underneath her, glancing over at you as you gingerly pressed an ice pack to the side of your face. A large bruise had darkened your skin where you’d been hit during the mission. You had insisted you were fine, brushing off the concern with a half-hearted smile and a wave of your hand, but Anna could see the pain in your eyes, the way your jaw tightened every time you shifted the ice pack.

What she couldn’t ignore, though—what had been gnawing at her for hours now—was Remy’s reaction. She had seen it the moment you had been hit, the moment you fell, the flash of pure, unfiltered fury in his eyes. It had been quick, a blink-and-you’d-miss-it moment, but Anna had caught it. She always noticed those things about him.

The moment the blast hit you, everything changed.

You had been moving across one of the high walkways, your focus sharp, your attention split between the chaotic battle below and the shifting shadows above. But you hadn’t seen the energy blast coming, not until it slammed into you with brutal force, knocking you off your feet and sending you hurtling over the edge.

Time seemed to slow as the world tilted, your body spinning in midair, the metal walkway disappearing beneath you. You could hear the shouts of your teammates, but they were distant, muffled, as the ground rushed up to meet you. The impact when you hit was jarring, the breath ripped from your lungs as you landed hard on your side. Pain radiated through your body, sharp and unforgiving, but you forced yourself to move, forced yourself to breathe.

Somewhere above, Remy had seen everything.

Anna would later describe the look on his face—the way his usually calm, cocky expression had twisted into something unrecognizable, something terrifying.

Remy moved like a man possessed, his usual smooth, calculated style of fighting replaced by a wild, reckless fury. His bo staff, which he normally wielded with an almost playful ease, became an extension of his rage, striking out with a force that seemed to reverberate through the entire battlefield. The usual grace with which he fought was gone, replaced by raw, unrestrained aggression.

His jaw was clenched so tightly that the muscles stood out against the sharp line of his face, his eyes dark and stormy, filled with a rage that Anna had never seen in him before. Every step he took was purposeful, his movements sharp and brutal, as if he was trying to physically tear his way through the enemies in front of him to get to you.

Anna had never seen him like this. Remy was always calm in a fight—always in control. He moved like a dancer, weaving in and out of danger with a smirk on his lips and a sharp quip on his tongue. But not tonight. Tonight, there were no quips, no smirks. Just fury. Just fear.

He wasn’t fighting to win anymore. He was fighting to get to you.

The man who had fired the blast was still standing on the walkway above, reloading his weapon, unaware of the storm that was coming for him. Remy’s eyes locked onto him, and for a moment, everything else faded. The enemies between him and his target were irrelevant, mere obstacles in his way, and he tore through them all with a kind of reckless abandon that made even Anna hesitate.

It wasn’t until you rejoined the group after Remy had taken out the man that had hurt you—bruised, battered, but still standing—that Remy’s shoulders finally sagged with relief. He hadn’t heard you approach, too lost in the chaos of the fight, but when he saw you, his entire body seemed to deflate, the tension draining from him in an instant.

You were hurt—he could see that much—but you were alive.

You gave him a tired smile, your lips quirking up at the edges despite the pain radiating through your body. “I’m fine,” you said, your voice rough but steady. “Just got knocked around a bit.”

But Remy didn’t smile back. He didn’t say a word. His eyes lingered on you, taking in the bruise forming on your face, the way you were favoring one leg, and though his face remained impassive, Anna could see the way his hands clenched at his sides, the way his jaw tightened as if he was physically holding himself back from reaching out to you. He had been uncharacteristically quiet on the jet home, his jokes and easy charm replaced with something darker, something more volatile. His eyes had followed you with an intensity that was hard to miss, his body stiffening every time you winced or shifted in your seat. Like he needed to stop you from hurting, to fix you.

There had been a time when the tension between you and Remy was something entirely different—something light, easy. A game, almost. The two of you would banter like it was second nature, your witty exchanges filling the room with laughter and playful sparks. It was a kind of verbal tug-of-war, where neither of you wanted to win too quickly because the back-and-forth was half the fun. And Anna had loved those days.

She would sit back, arms folded, a small smile playing on her lips as she watched the two of you go at it, tossing jabs and flirtations like they were as essential as breathing. Remy’s voice would always be the first to cut through the air—smooth and cocky, with that lazy Cajun drawl that made everything he said sound like a tease.

“Y’know, chérie, y’ keep lookin’ at me like that, I’m gonna start thinkin’ y’ got a crush,” he’d say, his eyes glinting with mischief.

You’d snort, but your smirk would betray you. “I’m just trying to figure out if your hair defies gravity or logic.”

He’d lean in a little closer, his grin widening. “Both, ma belle. But y’ don’t seem t’ mind gettin’ close enough t’ figure it out.”

And you’d fire back with something just as quick, just as sharp, refusing to let him have the upper hand for too long. “I’m just making sure you don’t set off a static charge and fry the circuits.”

Anna had always loved watching the two of you play off each other like that. The way your eyes would spark with amusement, and the way Remy’s grin would soften into something almost genuine when you shot back a particularly clever retort. It was a dance, one that neither of you seemed in a hurry to end. The teasing felt like a language all its own, where the quick-witted quips and flirtations were as natural as breathing.

Anna had noticed all the little things, too—the way Remy’s eyes lingered on you for just a second too long when you weren’t looking, the way he would lean in just a bit too close when he was teasing you. She saw how his shoulders would relax when you entered a room, as though your presence alone was enough to ease the tension from his body, if only for a moment.

But now, the easy banter between the two of you had faltered. The playful teasing that used to fill the air between you was gone, replaced with awkward, stilted pauses. Remy had been different ever since the mission—quieter, more distant. Like he didn’t know how to be around you anymore, not after what he’d seen, not after the way his heart had nearly stopped when you hit the ground.

Because in that moment she realised; seeing you fall, he had found something that scared the hell out of him: this wasn’t a game between you anymore.

He cared—more than he had ever let himself admit. And now, the weight of that realization hung between the two of you, thick and suffocating.

Anna could see it in the way Remy’s entire body seemed tense tonight, restless, like a man trapped in a corner with no way out. He was holding himself back, struggling to find his footing in this new, unfamiliar territory. The easy confidence, the cocky charm that usually dripped from his every word, was gone, replaced by something more tentative, more uncertain.

It wasn’t just the awkward pauses between you that were different. It was the way he looked at you now—like he wasn’t sure how to act around you anymore. He kept his distance, his usual easy charm replaced with a kind of restless energy, like he was constantly fighting with himself. He didn’t know how to go back to the way things were, not after realizing just how much you meant to him.

Clearly Anna had seen this coming for a while now, long before Remy had. She had watched the way his teasing had taken on a softer edge, the way his flirtations had started to feel less like a game and more like something real. But Remy? He had been blind to it, or perhaps just in denial. Until tonight—until the moment he saw you fall.

Now, he was struggling to reconcile the playful, easy banter you used to share with the deeper feelings that had surfaced. And you—you were trying to act like everything was still the same, but Anna could see the way your shoulders tensed when he was near, the way you averted your eyes when his gaze lingered on you for too long.

The tension between the two of you had changed. It wasn’t light anymore. It wasn’t playful. It was heavy, suffocating, the kind of tension that made the room feel smaller, more claustrophobic.

Anna knew what was happening, even if neither of you wanted to admit it. You were both standing on the edge of something—something that had been building for longer than either of you had realized. And now, you were both too scared to take that final step, too scared to slip and fall into whatever came next.

The silence between you and Remy wasn’t comfortable anymore. It was stretched too thin, like a wire pulled taut, ready to snap at any moment. It was no longer filled with playful banter or easy flirtations, but with the weight of everything left unsaid—feelings neither of you knew how to acknowledge, let alone express.

You had both been waiting for whatever it was between you to disappear, praying that it would. But it hadn’t. It had only grown heavier, more palpable, hanging in the air like a storm cloud, ready to break.

Anna could feel it. How could she not? She had always been perceptive, especially when it came to Remy. She could read him like an open book, see past the smooth charm and cocky smiles to the man underneath, the one who wasn’t as sure of himself as he pretended to be.

But tonight, everything felt different. Worse.

You were sitting in the armchair opposite, your legs stretched out in front of you, clearly exhausted but trying to keep up with the conversation. Anna watched as you shifted the ice pack to a new spot on your bruised ribs, wincing slightly. And again, there it was—that flicker of something in Remy’s eyes. He was sitting next to Anna, his body stiffening, his hands curling into fists on his lap as though he were fighting the instinct to do something. To reach out. To help you.

Normally, Remy was the epitome of calm, always quick with a joke or a flirtatious comment to lighten the mood. But tonight, he was different. There was a heaviness to him, a weight that he couldn’t seem to shake. His gaze kept flicking between you and the floor, like he couldn’t bear to look at either of you for too long. And Anna had noticed the way he’d been avoiding her eyes all evening, like he was afraid of what she might see there.

But she already knew. She’d known for a while now.

Yet it wasn’t anger that weighed heavily in her chest—it wasn’t betrayal. No, it was something far more complicated than that. Because as Anna sat there, watching the way Remy’s entire body seemed to tense every time you shifted in your seat, she realized something that surprised even her: she wasn’t hurt. She wasn’t even surprised.

She had seen it coming.

But what surprised Anna even more was that she had seen something similar in you.

You were good at hiding it—better than Remy, at least. But Anna had noticed the way you had started to pull back, the way your usual quick-witted responses to Remy’s flirtations had slowed, replaced by awkward silences or forced smiles. She had seen the way your eyes would flicker with something unspoken when Remy got too close, something you were clearly trying to suppress.

But now... now it was different. Because she was watching two people she cared about trying—fighting—to bury feelings that neither of them wanted to acknowledge. She knew that you and Remy were both hoping those feelings would disappear, praying that they would fade with time. Because whatever this was, it wasn’t supposed to happen. Not when she and Remy were together. It hurt to see Remy like this—not because of jealousy or betrayal, but because she knew exactly how he felt. She had been struggling too, but she had been doing it for far longer than Remy had. The difference was, she was better at hiding it.

She had to be.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity of forced conversation and strained silences, you stood up from the armchair, stretching with a wince that made Anna’s heart clench. You smiled at them, tired but still warm, that same smile that had always managed to break through the tension, even on the worst days.

"Think I’m gonna call it a night," you said, your voice rough around the edges. "See you guys tomorrow."

Anna nodded, offering you a small, genuine smile. "Get some rest," she said softly, her voice gentle, maybe too gentle. "You need it."

Remy, on the other hand, barely said a word. He just gave you a curt nod, his jaw tight as he watched you, his eyes flickering with something Anna knew he was desperately trying to hide. There was a storm in those eyes, a hurricane of emotions he couldn’t control, and it was tearing him apart.

It was only when the door clicked shut behind you that Anna noticed the way Remy’s shoulders sagged, just a fraction, the tension in his body easing ever so slightly now that you were no longer in the room. But the storm hadn’t passed—it was still there, lingering in the air between them, thick and heavy like the humidity before a thunderstorm. Anna knew that if she didn’t address it now, it would only grow stronger, consuming them both in its wake.

She watched him in silence for a moment, her eyes tracing the sharp lines of his face, the way his hands flexed at his sides, like he was trying to rid himself of the energy that had been building up all night. He looked like a man on the edge, like he was barely holding himself together, and Anna’s heart ached for him. She knew him better than anyone—knew that he wasn’t used to feeling this out of control. Remy LeBeau was a master of keeping his emotions in check, of hiding behind that charming smirk and easy confidence. But not tonight. Not when it came to you.

Anna sighed softly, the sound filling the quiet room. Her heart ached, but not in the way she had feared it might. She had been bracing herself for this conversation for a while now—had been watching the cracks form in Remy’s carefully constructed facade. But no matter how much she tried to prepare herself, it was still a strange thing to feel the truth settle between them like this.

"Remy," she said softly, drawing his gaze to her. Her voice was calm, but there was a firmness to it, a quiet strength. "I’ve seen the way you look at her."

Remy’s eyes widened slightly, and he opened his mouth to respond, to deny it, to explain, but the words failed him. He let out a heavy breath instead, one hand running through his tousled hair as he tried to find anything to say that wouldn’t make this worse. But there was no denying it. Not anymore.

"It ain’t like dat, Anna," he started, his voice low, that familiar Cajun drawl seeping into his words as he struggled to explain. "I didn’t mean for it t’ happen. Swear on everythin’, I tried t’ bury it. Tried t’ keep it locked up real tight, y’know? Hope it went away. But…"

"But it never did," Anna finished for him, her voice soft and understanding. "I know, Remy. I’ve seen it."

She had noticed it for months. The subtle shifts in his behavior around you, so small that no one else would have picked up on them. But Anna? She knew Remy better than anyone. She knew how to read the tiniest changes in him, how to catch the brief flickers of emotion that crossed his face when he thought no one was watching.

"You ain’t gotta hide it from me," she said, her voice barely above a whisper now. "I’ve seen the way your whole face lights up when she laughs. The way you lean in, just a little closer than you would with anyone else."

Remy winced, his guilt weighing heavy on his shoulders. He had thought he could hide it, had thought he could keep his feelings locked away deep enough that no one—especially Anna—would ever notice. But he had underestimated her. He always did.

"Anna, I—" He stopped, his voice faltering, and he shook his head, frustration bubbling up inside him. "I—Merde, I don’t know what t’ say. I love you, chérie. You gotta know dat." His accent thickened, his voice rough with emotion. "But when it comes t’ her… I… I can’t help it. I tried. I really tried."

Anna’s heart clenched at Remy’s words, but not in the way she had expected. There was no anger, no jealousy gnawing at her insides. Instead, she felt something else—something quieter, more complicated. A strange sense of relief washed over her, like the weight she had been carrying for so long was finally starting to lift. She had known this moment was coming—had felt it creeping up on her for months now. But even so, sitting here, facing the truth she had been so afraid to admit, there was a peace in it.

For so long, she had been bracing herself for this conversation, for the day Remy would finally crack under the pressure of his feelings for you. She had seen the way he looked at you, the way his cocky charm faltered whenever you were near. But now that the moment was here, now that Remy had all but confessed without saying the words aloud, Anna didn’t feel the anger she thought she would. Instead, she just felt tired. Tired of pretending. Tired of holding back her own feelings, afraid of what they might mean.

"I know ya love me, Remy," she said softly, her hand reaching out to rest on his arm, grounding herself in the warmth of his presence. She needed that connection, if only for a moment, to steady herself against the storm of emotions swirling inside her. "And I love you too. I always will." Her voice trembled slightly, but she steadied herself with a deep breath, forcing herself to stay calm, even as her heart pounded in her chest. What she was about to say next wasn’t easy, but it was the truth. "But this thing you’re feelin’ for her… it ain’t somethin’ you can control. And I don’t blame you for it."

Remy’s brow furrowed in confusion, his dark eyes searching her face as though trying to make sense of her calm. She could see the tension in his body, the way his fingers flexed like he didn’t know what to do with his hands. "How can y’ be so calm ‘bout this?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper, like he couldn’t quite believe what he was hearing. "How can y’ just—"

Anna swallowed hard, feeling the familiar flutter of fear in her chest. She had been prepared for this moment, but the words still felt heavy on her tongue. This was the part she had been dreading, the part that made her hesitate. She wasn’t afraid of what she felt—she had known for a long time now that her feelings for you were real, even if she hadn’t wanted to admit it. What scared her was Remy’s reaction. What if this changed everything between them? What if he looked at her differently after this? What if—

But she couldn’t keep it inside any longer. The truth was already out there, hovering between them, and if she didn’t say it now, she might never have the courage to say it at all.

"Because I feel it too," Anna interrupted, her voice quiet but firm, the words finally spilling out after months of silence.

Remy stared at her, shock clear in his wide eyes. His entire body seemed to go still, like he was frozen in place, unable to process what he had just heard. "You—What?”

Anna smiled, a little sad, but mostly relieved. It was like a dam had broken in her chest, the flood of feelings she had been holding back for so long finally rushing free. "I’ve been feelin’ it too, Remy," she admitted, her voice soft, almost fragile. "For her. For a long time now."

The words hung in the air between them, heavy and unspoken for so long that now, finally said aloud, they felt surreal. Anna watched as Remy blinked, his mind clearly racing, his eyes searching hers like he was waiting for her to take it back, to say that she didn’t mean it. But she didn’t. This was the truth—the messy, complicated truth that she had been avoiding for too long.

She could see the disbelief on his face, the way his mouth opened and closed like he was trying to find something to say, but no words came. She had never seen him like this before—so utterly lost for words. Remy LeBeau, who always had a quick retort or a charming smile, was completely speechless.

Anna’s own heart was racing, the silence between them growing heavier with every passing second. She had expected this moment to feel freeing, but it didn’t—not entirely. There was still a knot of anxiety twisting in her chest, still the fear of what might come next. She had no idea how Remy would react, and that scared her more than she wanted to admit.

"How long?" Remy finally asked, his voice rough, almost strained, like he was forcing the words out against his will.

Anna hesitated. She had known this question was coming, but it didn’t make it any easier to answer. "I’m not sure," she said slowly, her eyes dropping to her hands in her lap. "It kinda crept up on me, I guess. I didn’t want to admit it, not even to myself. I didn’t want to feel that way about her." She paused, her throat tightening as she forced herself to be honest. "Not when you and I are together."

Remy’s expression softened, the tension in his shoulders easing just a little as her words sunk in. "Anna..."

But she shook her head, stopping him before he could say anything else. "I’ve been scared, Remy," she admitted, her voice small, vulnerable in a way she wasn’t used to. "Scared of what it meant. Scared of what it would do to us if I told you." She looked up at him, her eyes filled with the weight of everything she had been holding back. "I didn’t want to lose you."

Remy’s eyes softened, and for the first time that night, Anna saw the flicker of understanding in them. He reached out, his hand covering hers where it rested in her lap, his touch warm and comforting. "Y’ ain’t gonna lose me, Anna," he said quietly, his voice low and steady. "Not over this."

Anna let out a shaky breath, her heart pounding in her chest as the tension she had been carrying for months finally began to ease. She had been so afraid of this moment—afraid that telling Remy the truth would break something between them, something that couldn’t be fixed. But now, looking into his eyes, she realized that maybe, just maybe, it hadn’t been as fragile as she thought. Anna watched Remy closely, her heart pounding in her chest as the weight of their shared confession settled between them. The silence that hung in the air wasn’t as heavy as before, but it still carried a kind of tension that made her feel like she was standing on the edge of something vast and unknown. She had said the words now—had admitted to the feelings she had been hiding for so long—and there was no taking them back. But strangely, she didn’t want to. This was the truth, messy and complicated as it was, and for the first time in what felt like forever, she didn’t feel like she was drowning underneath it.

Remy was still staring at her, his eyes searching her face like he was trying to piece together what had just happened, trying to make sense of the whirlwind of emotions that had swept through both of them. His hand was still resting on hers, grounding her, but she could feel the tension in his touch, the way his fingers trembled ever so slightly.

"Anna," he started, his voice low, uncertain. "I—"

But she shook her head, stopping him before he could say anything else. There was more she needed to say—more she needed him to understand before they could even begin to figure out where they went from here.

"It’s not just about the way I feel," she said softly, her voice barely above a whisper, but there was a quiet strength in it, a resolve that had settled deep in her bones. "It’s about her. About who she is."

Remy frowned slightly, confusion flickering across his face, but he didn’t interrupt. He was listening, waiting for her to explain.

Anna took a deep breath, her gaze drifting toward the door you had walked through just minutes before. "She’s just..." She trailed off, struggling to find the words to describe what she felt, what you meant to her. "She’s like this light, Remy. You’ve felt it, too—I know you have. It’s like she walks into a room, and everything feels different. Brighter. Lighter."

Remy’s brow furrowed deeper, but his eyes softened as he listened, his hand tightening just slightly on hers. He didn’t say anything, but Anna could see the understanding in his eyes, the way he was already beginning to nod, as if he knew exactly what she was talking about.

"I don’t know how to explain it," she continued, her voice growing quieter, more vulnerable. "It’s not just that she’s kind, or funny, or smart. It’s more than that. There’s this energy about her, this... this warmth that just pulls you in. Even when you don’t want to be pulled in. Even when you’re trying so hard to keep your distance."

Anna let out a shaky breath, her eyes closing for a moment as she tried to steady herself. "I tried, Remy. I tried so hard not to feel this way. I didn’t want to fall for her. I didn’t mean to fall for her. But she’s just... she’s so easy to love. And that’s what makes it so hard."

She opened her eyes again, looking at Remy as if she could somehow make him understand what she was struggling to put into words. "You know what I mean, don’t you?" she asked quietly, almost pleading. "You’ve felt it, too. The way she just... she makes everything feel better, even when everything’s falling apart."

Remy’s eyes widened slightly, but he didn’t look away. He didn’t deny it. How could he? Anna could see it all over his face, the way his jaw tightened, the way his eyes flickered with something unspoken. He had felt it, too. That pull. That warmth. He had been feeling it for months, just like she had.

"Yeah," Remy finally whispered, his voice rough, strained with the weight of everything he was holding back. "Yeah, I know."

Anna let out a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding, her body relaxing just a little as the tension between them began to ease. There was no point in pretending anymore, no point in hiding what they both knew to be true.

"She’s like this energy you can’t explain," Anna continued, her voice soft, almost reverent as she spoke. "It’s like the more time you spend with her, the harder it gets to stay away. Like you don’t even realize it’s happening until it’s too late, until you’re already in too deep."

Her gaze dropped to the floor, her fingers twisting together in her lap as she tried to put the rest of her thoughts into words. "It’s not just about being attracted to her, or wanting her in that way. It’s deeper than that. It’s like she sees people, really sees them. And when she looks at you..." Anna’s voice faltered for a moment, her throat tightening with emotion. "When she looks at you, it’s like she’s looking right into your soul, like she sees all of the broken, messy parts of you, and somehow, she still wants to be there. She still cares."

Remy was silent, but Anna could feel the way his grip on her hand tightened, the way his body seemed to relax just a little, like her words were sinking into him, touching something deep inside that he had been trying so hard to ignore.

"And that’s why it’s so easy to fall in love with her," Anna whispered, her voice trembling with the weight of the truth she had been carrying for so long. "Because she makes you feel like maybe you aren’t so broken after all. Like maybe, just maybe, you’re worth loving." It had started slowly—so slowly that Anna hadn’t even realized what was happening at first. You had always been there, a constant presence in her life, one that she had come to rely on, to trust. You were her best friend, the one she could talk to about anything, the one who could make her laugh when everything else seemed too heavy. She had always loved you, but it had been the kind of love that she could easily explain away, the kind that came with years of friendship.

But then something had shifted.

She couldn’t say exactly when it started—maybe it was the way your smile seemed to light up her world in a way that only Remy could, or the way her heart fluttered when your hand brushed against hers, even just in passing. Even through her gloves she could still feel the warmth, the electricity. Maybe it was the way she caught herself staring at you when you weren’t looking, her chest tightening with something she couldn’t quite name. Whatever it was, it had crept up on her slowly, like a shadow she hadn’t noticed until it was already wrapped around her heart.

At first, she tried to ignore it. Tried to convince herself that it was nothing, that she was just imagining things. After all, she loved Remy. She loved him. And Remy loved her. What they had was real, solid, something she had fought so hard to protect. But the more time she spent with you, the harder it became to deny that something had changed.

It wasn’t just friendship anymore—not for her.

She found herself thinking about you in moments of quiet, her mind drifting to the way you laughed, the way your eyes sparkled when you were excited about something. She replayed conversations in her head, her heart skipping a beat at the thought of your voice, your smile. And then there were the dreams—dreams where it was your hand she reached for, your lips she kissed. She would wake up, her heart pounding, guilt twisting in her stomach like a knife.

How could she feel this way about you when she already loved Remy?

She had tried to push it down, tried to bury it deep inside, telling herself that it was just a phase, that it would pass. But it didn’t pass. If anything, it grew stronger, more insistent, until it was all she could think about when she was around you. And it wasn’t just attraction—it was deeper than that. She cared about you in a way that she hadn’t allowed herself to admit before. She wanted you to be happy, wanted to protect you, to be the one you turned to when you needed someone. It was love. And once she realized that, there was no going back.

But how could she navigate these feelings for you when she still loved Remy? That was the part that tore at her, that kept her up at night, her mind a tangled mess of emotions. She loved them both. She loved you both.

There had been moments—fleeting, but real—when she had caught Remy watching you, the warmth in his gaze unmistakable. At first, she had been confused, a knot of jealousy twisting in her chest. But then, as the days passed, she began to recognize that look. It was the same way she had been looking at you. And slowly, the jealousy had faded, replaced by something she hadn’t expected: understanding.

Remy was feeling it too.

But she hadn’t known how to bring it up. How could she? How could she tell him that she was falling in love with their best friend, that she was struggling to reconcile those feelings with her love for him? She had been so afraid of ruining everything, of losing him, of losing you. So she had kept it inside, pretending that everything was fine, even as her heart ached with the weight of it all.

And now, standing here, with Remy looking at her like he had just seen a ghost, she realized that she wasn’t alone in this. He had been struggling too, trying to hide his feelings for you, just like she had. And it wasn’t until this moment, with the truth finally hanging between them, that she realized how much she needed this. How much she needed him to understand.

Remy blinked, his mind racing as he tried to process everything Anna had just said. His mouth opened and closed, but no words came out. It felt like the world had tilted on its axis, and for a moment, he wasn’t sure if he was dreaming or if this was all real.

Remy’s head was spinning, his emotions swirling in a chaotic storm that refused to settle. He dragged a hand through his messy hair, feeling like he was trying to force puzzle pieces into place that simply wouldn’t fit. "Merde…" he muttered under his breath, his accent thick with frustration. But despite the confusion, a smile tugged at the corner of his lips, a dry, almost disbelieving laugh escaping him. “Dis… dis is a mess.”

He had meant to sound bitter, to let the words carry the frustration of the situation, but even he could hear the warmth in his voice. There was no denying the absurdity of it all—how life had a way of sneaking up on him, turning everything he thought he knew upside down. But Remy had always lived in the gray areas, in the spaces between right and wrong, between love and heartbreak. He had survived in the mess before. Only this time, the mess was different. This time, it involved the two people who meant the most to him.

Remy loved Anna. God, did he love her. He loved her in a way that went beyond words, beyond anything he’d ever known. It wasn’t a love built on fleeting passion or infatuation, although there had been plenty of that in the beginning. No, this was a love that had roots—deep and unshakable, like an old oak tree that had weathered every storm fate had thrown their way. It was the kind of love that had been forged in battle, tested by time, and strengthened by the scars they both carried. It was a love that had grown slowly, steadily, until it became as natural as breathing.

He loved her laugh—the way it lit up a room, the way it chased away the shadows that always seemed to cling to him. When Anna laughed, it was like the world wasn’t such a bad place after all. He loved her stubbornness, that fiery spirit that refused to back down, even when the odds were stacked against her. She was relentless when she believed in something, and she had always believed in him, even when he hadn’t deserved it.

Anna had seen him at his worst—at his lowest—and yet, she had been there, steady and unwavering, her loyalty a constant he had never quite understood but had always been grateful for. She was his partner, his equal in every way. She knew him better than anyone—knew all his faults, all his demons—and still, she had chosen to stand beside him.

Remy loved her in a way that felt natural, like something that had always existed between them, waiting to be discovered. It was a love that had carried them through the highs and the lows, through the heartbreaks and the healing, through every test life had thrown at them. They had built something solid together, something that had weathered every storm, and he knew without a doubt that he could trust that love to carry them through whatever came next.

But love, as Remy had come to understand over the years, wasn’t always simple. It wasn’t always enough to keep things neat and tidy. Sometimes it was messy, complicated in ways that didn’t make sense, in ways that tore at you from the inside out.

There was no doubt in his mind that he loved Anna with every fiber of his being. But then… there was you. And that was when things got complicated.

He had tried to ignore it at first—the way his pulse quickened when you were near, the way his eyes seemed to drift toward you without him even realizing it, the way his heart beat just a little faster whenever you smiled at him. He had told himself it was nothing. Just a fleeting attraction, something that would pass if he ignored it long enough. He had been through enough to know that feelings like this could be dangerous, that they had a way of sneaking up on you and making you forget what really mattered. So he had pushed it down, buried it deep in the part of himself he never let anyone see.

But it hadn’t passed.

It had only grown stronger, more insistent, until it was all he could think about. Until the sound of your laugh was like a song stuck in his head, until the way you looked at him made him feel like he was the only person in the room. He had tried to fight it, tried so damn hard to keep it buried, to remind himself that he loved Anna, that he had no right to feel this way about you. But the more he tried to push it down, the more it rose to the surface, demanding to be acknowledged.

And that terrified him.

Because Remy wasn’t a stranger to desire. He had felt it before—strong, overwhelming, like a fire that threatened to consume him. But this was different. This wasn’t just desire. It wasn’t just physical attraction. It was something deeper, something he didn’t quite understand, and that was what scared him the most. The way you made him feel wasn’t something he could control, wasn’t something he could just turn off. It was like you had slipped past all of his defenses without him even realizing it, and now, no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t stop thinking about you.

He loved Anna. He knew that. He needed that to be enough. But every time he looked at you, something inside him shifted, something he couldn’t quite name. It wasn’t just about wanting you, though that was part of it. It was about the way you made him feel—alive, seen, understood in a way he hadn’t expected. You had this light about you, this energy that drew him in, that made him feel like maybe, just maybe, there was something more out there for him, something he hadn’t even known he was looking for.

And that was the real problem. Because it wasn’t just that he was attracted to you. It was that he was starting to fall for you, and that was something he couldn’t ignore anymore.

"Merde," he whispered again, running his hand through his hair as if the simple gesture could somehow untangle the mess inside his head. He glanced up at Anna, who was watching him carefully, her eyes full of a quiet understanding that made his chest ache. She always knew when something was wrong, always knew when he was struggling, even when he didn’t say a word.

Anna wasn’t angry. Somehow, that made it worse. If she had been angry—if she had yelled or thrown something or stormed out—maybe he could have handled that. Maybe he could have dealt with the anger, could have taken the blame and let her hate him for it. But she wasn’t angry. She was calm, too calm, and it made his heart pound in his chest.

"Dis ain’t fair," he muttered, his voice thick with emotion. "Not to you. Not to us."

Anna’s expression softened, a small, sad smile tugging at her lips. "No," she agreed quietly, her voice gentle. "It ain’t fair. But it’s the truth."

Remy closed his eyes for a moment, letting the weight of her words sink in. This was the truth, messy and complicated as it was. He had feelings for you—feelings he couldn’t ignore, no matter how much he wanted to. And Anna… Anna had feelings for you, too. It was a truth they couldn’t run from anymore, no matter how much it hurt.

"I didn’t want this," Remy whispered, his voice barely audible. "I didn’t want to feel this way."

"I know," Anna said softly, squeezing his hand. "Neither did I."

But there was no escaping it now. The feelings were out in the open, and there was no putting them back. Remy didn’t know what came next, didn’t know how they were supposed to move forward from here. But one thing was clear—things would never be the same again.

Still, as he looked at Anna, her calm acceptance, her unwavering strength, he felt a flicker of hope. Maybe, just maybe, they could figure this out. Together.

"You love her, don’t you?" Anna asked quietly, her voice soft but steady.

Remy hesitated, the words catching in his throat. He had never said it aloud, never let himself fully admit it. But now, there was no point in denying it.

"Yeah," he whispered, his voice heavy with the weight of the truth. "I think I do."

Anna’s eyes flickered with a mixture of sadness and something deeper—understanding, maybe, or a kind of resigned hope that made Remy’s chest tighten. She nodded softly, as if she’d already played out this conversation in her mind more times than she cared to admit.

“Me too,” she whispered. Two small words, but they carried the weight of everything both of them had been too afraid to face. Remy felt a wave of emotions crash over him—relief, confusion, fear. He’d been so damn scared of this moment, scared of losing her, scared of breaking what they had built. But instead of anger or hurt, Anna had met him with understanding. And somehow, that made it even harder to bear. Since then, they’d been hiding their feelings from you. It wasn’t easy, not with the way the three of you were always together—fighting side by side, laughing, sharing late-night conversations that stretched into the early morning. You were the glue that held them together, and neither of them wanted to risk losing that. But hiding how they felt was starting to wear on them.

Anna had noticed the change in Remy almost immediately. He’d always been protective of you in the field, but now it was something more. He hovered closer than he used to, always positioning himself between you and danger, always the first to pull you out of harm’s way. His hand would linger on your arm a second too long, his voice softer when he whispered, “Stay close, cher.” And outside of missions? He was more flirtatious than ever, but there was something different about it now. The playful edge was still there, but there was a heat behind his words that hadn’t been there before, a weight that made Anna’s chest tighten when she saw the way you smiled back at him.

Remy had noticed Anna’s changes, too. She was loosening up around you in ways she hadn’t before. She wasn’t the type to let people in easily, but with you, it was different. She lingered when the two of you cooked together, standing so close that her shoulder brushed yours, her gloved fingers grazing your arm as you handed her a knife or a spoon. When you sparred, she wasn’t as hard on you as she used to be, her movements slower, more deliberate, as if she didn’t want to hurt you but didn’t want to stop touching you either. There was a softness to her that Remy had rarely seen, and it drove him crazy because he knew exactly what it meant.

They were both caught in the same trap—wanting you, but not daring to tell you

But tonight, sitting at the kitchen table, watching you make yourself a sandwich, Anna couldn’t help but poke at Remy, just like she always did when the tension between the three of you got too thick to ignore.

Remy shifted in his seat, heat creeping up the back of his neck as he tried to focus on the cards spread out in front of him. “I ain’t payin’ attention to nothin’,” he mumbled, his voice tight, his accent slipping through more than usual. He kept his eyes glued to the deck, hoping the cards would save him from the conversation.

Anna chuckled softly, clearly amused. She leaned forward, her elbows on the table, dropping her voice low enough so only he could hear. “Sure, sugar. Whatever you say.” There was a teasing lilt in her voice, but her gaze was sharp, knowing. “But I see the way ya look at her, Remy. Ain’t no use pretendin’.”

Remy’s grip tightened on the cards, his pulse thudding in his ears. He didn’t respond right away, but Anna could see the way his jaw clenched, the way his shoulders tensed under her teasing.

“You notice a lot, chère,” he muttered, finally looking up at her, his eyes narrowing slightly. He sounded defensive, but there was no real heat in his words. He knew she wasn’t wrong. She never was.

Anna shrugged, her smirk widening. “I notice when you stop flirtin’ with me and start focusin’ on someone else.” She tilted her head toward you, her eyes softening. “Ain’t like I’m blind to it.”

Remy’s gaze flicked toward you again, watching as you stood on your toes to get a plate down from the cupboard, completely oblivious to the conversation happening behind you. His chest tightened, the familiar ache settling in once again. He’d always been good at keeping his feelings locked down, but when it came to you, he was losing that control more and more each day.

“I ain’t the only one,” he said quietly, his voice low, his eyes still on you. He didn’t need to say more. Anna knew exactly what he meant.

Anna’s smirk faded, replaced with something softer. She followed his gaze, watching you for a moment before replying. “Yeah. I guess not.” They both sat in silence for a moment, both of them watching you as you pulled open the fridge and pulling out several drinks, checking each one before putting them back.

Eventually, Anna broke the silence, her voice quieter than before. “She’s gonna figure it out eventually, ya know.”

Remy shook his head, a bitter smile tugging at his lips. “Maybe. Maybe not.”

Anna raised an eyebrow at him. “Ya really think you can keep this up? Keep actin’ like you don’t care about her more than you should?”

Remy’s smile faded, his expression hardening. “What am I supposed to do, Anna? Tell her? Risk losin’ what we got?”

Anna sighed, her teasing demeanor slipping away. She reached out, her gloved hand gently covering his on the table. “We’re already in too deep, Remy. Ain’t no goin’ back.”

Remy’s eyes met hers, and in that moment, there was a shared understanding between them. They were both caught in the same tangled web of emotions, both too afraid to pull at the threads, knowing it could all unravel.

You sat down at the table with your sandwich, smiling at Remy and Anna as you settled into your seat. The kitchen was warm, the soft glow of the overhead light casting the three of you in a golden hue, but there was something different in the air—something you couldn’t quite place.

They had been acting strange lately—subtle, but noticeable enough if you were paying attention. And you were. You always had been.

You took a bite of your sandwich and tried to shake the feeling off, but as you chewed, your eyes flicked between the two of them, trying to make sense of the tension that seemed to hang in the space between them. They were laughing, sure, but there was something unspoken in their glances, a weight in their words that you couldn’t quite understand.

Anna leaned back in her chair, the smirk on her lips playful but somehow guarded, like she was holding something back. And Remy—well, Remy was being Remy, flashing that charming smile of his, but it didn’t reach his eyes the way it usually did. His posture was relaxed, but you knew him well enough to see the way the muscles in his shoulders were just a little too tight, the way his grip on the deck of cards was a little too firm.

You took another bite of your sandwich, chewing slowly as you tried to push the thoughts away. But as you glanced up again, you caught the tail end of something between them—something silent but unmistakable. Remy’s eyes flicked to Anna, and she raised an eyebrow at him, her smirk deepening just a fraction. It was like they were having a conversation without words, something you weren’t privy to.

It made your stomach twist, but you weren’t sure why.

“Suit yourselves,” you said, forcing a grin as you set your sandwich down on the plate. You tried to sound casual, but you could hear the slight edge in your voice, the way you were trying just a little too hard to act like everything was normal.

But it didn’t feel normal. Not anymore.

Remy’s eyes lingered on you for a moment longer, something unreadable in his expression. You’d seen that look before—usually when he was thinking about something serious, something he didn’t want to say out loud just yet. His lips twitched into a smile, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Thanks, chère, but I’m alright.”

Anna was watching him, her smirk falling into something softer, more thoughtful. She leaned back in her chair, her hands resting loosely on the table, and for a second, she looked like she wanted to say something. But then she just shook her head, her eyes flashing with that familiar playful glint. “Nah, sugar. I’m good.”

The tension between them was palpable, and you couldn’t help but feel like you were on the outside looking in, like you were missing something important. You’d never felt that way with them before. The three of you had always been in sync, always moving as one. But now, it felt like there was a wall between you, something invisible but impenetrable.

You swallowed, suddenly feeling uneasy.

What are they not telling me?

You glanced between them again, trying to read their expressions, trying to make sense of the strange energy between them. But if there was something going on, they weren’t giving it away. They were both too good at hiding things when they wanted to be.

“Everything okay with you two?” you asked, your voice light but probing, trying to mask the uncertainty creeping into your chest.

Anna’s smirk widened, and she raised an eyebrow at you, her tone teasing. “Why, you worried about us, sugar?”

You rolled your eyes, but there was a nervous laugh behind it. “Just checking. You’ve both been acting weird.”

Remy chuckled, though it sounded a little forced. He shuffled the deck of cards in front of him, his fingers moving a little too quickly. “Ain’t nothin’ to worry ’bout, cher. We’re just fine.”

But you weren’t so sure. You could feel the tension in the air, thick and heavy, like a storm waiting to break. You didn’t know what it was, but you could sense it—something was shifting between the three of you, something that had been building for a while now.

Maybe it had been there all along, and you were just now noticing it. Or maybe things had changed recently, in ways you couldn’t quite understand yet.

You took another bite of your sandwich, chewing slowly as you tried to shake off the feeling, but it lingered, gnawing at the edges of your thoughts. You couldn’t help but wonder what was going on behind those shared glances, behind the playful teasing that felt like it was covering up something deeper.

Anna’s smirk softened as she leaned forward, resting her chin on her hand as she looked at you. “You know you can ask us anything, yeah?”

Her words were casual, but there was something in her tone that made you pause. You looked at her, then at Remy, who had gone quiet again, his eyes fixed on the cards in front of him. There was something in the way she said it—like she was giving you permission to ask the question you weren’t even sure how to form yet.

You opened your mouth to speak, but the words didn’t come. Instead, you just nodded, trying to force a smile to your lips. “Yeah. I know.”

But you didn’t ask. Not yet.

Because whatever was going on between them—between the three of you—you weren’t sure you were ready to hear the answer.

And maybe, just maybe, they weren’t ready to give it to you.

You sat down at the table, your sandwich in hand, doing your best to shake off the strange feeling that had settled over you like a heavy blanket. You’d been noticing it more and more lately—the way Remy and Anna seemed to have an unspoken connection, something that simmered just beneath the surface. You weren’t sure when it had started, but it had been growing, and the more you saw it, the harder it was to ignore.

The Danger Room was quiet, save for the rhythmic sounds of feet shuffling across the mat and the occasional grunt of exertion. The three of you had the space to yourselves, like you so often did when you trained together. But today, the air felt different—heavier, thicker, like every breath was weighted with something unspoken.

You and Remy circled each other, his eyes locked on yours, that familiar smirk playing at the corner of his lips. But there was something else there, too. Something darker, more intense. It wasn’t just about the sparring, not today. The tension between you crackled like electricity, and every time his body brushed against yours, it sent a spark straight down your spine.

Anna sat on one of the benches along the wall, her legs crossed, watching with a keen interest that made your skin prickle. She wasn’t just observing the fight; she was watching you, watching him. Her smirk mirrored Remy’s, a knowing, almost amused look in her eyes, like she could see everything that was simmering beneath the surface. Like she knew exactly what was happening inside your head.

And maybe she did.

You’d been caught in this strange push-and-pull with them for months, maybe longer. Best friends, yes—closer than anyone else in your life—but there was more than just friendship here. You couldn’t deny the way your heart sped up when Remy’s hand brushed yours, or the way Anna’s touch lingered just a second too long when she passed you something. There was a tension between the three of you, a magnetic pull that none of you seemed willing to acknowledge, but none of you could escape.

You’d tried to push it down, tried to ignore the way your body responded to theirs—the way you felt drawn to both of them in different but equally intense ways. But the more time you spent together, the harder it became to pretend that whatever was brewing between you wasn’t real.

Remy lunged at you, and you barely dodged his strike, his hand grazing your arm as you spun out of the way. His grin widened, a glint of mischief in his eyes as he squared up again. “You’re gettin’ slow, chère.”

You smirked, wiping the sweat from your brow. “You wish.”

He came at you again, faster this time, and you blocked his punch, your forearms colliding with a satisfying thud. The force of it sent you both stumbling, and for a split second, you were chest to chest, breath mingling as you steadied yourselves. Your hands were still locked together from the block, and you could feel the heat radiating off him, his pulse quick under your grip.

You didn’t move. Neither did he.

For a moment, the world narrowed to just the two of you, the air between you charged with something that had nothing to do with the fight. Your eyes met his, and the smirk faded. His mouth was only inches from yours, and you could feel his breath against your lips, hot and quick.

From the corner of your eye, you saw Anna shift in her seat, her gaze sharp, focused. She wasn’t saying anything, but you could feel her presence as strongly as you felt Remy’s body pressed against yours. Her eyes flicked between the two of you, and there was a subtle tension in her posture, like she was waiting for something.

You weren’t sure what that something was, but the intensity of her gaze only made the moment between you and Remy sharper, more dangerous.

He moved first, his fingers tightening around your wrist as he broke the stalemate, twisting his body to throw you off balance. You followed the motion, using the momentum to pivot and drive your shoulder into his chest, sending him stumbling back. He caught himself before he fell, but his grin was back, wider than before, his eyes gleaming with amusement—and something else.

“You’re playin’ dirty now,” he said, his voice low, almost teasing.

“Speak for yourself,” you shot back, breathless.

The sparring continued, but it wasn’t just about the training anymore. Every movement felt charged, every touch deliberate. When he grabbed your wrist, his fingers lingered, sliding against your skin in a way that made your pulse quicken. When you blocked his kick, your leg brushed against his thigh, and the contact sent a shiver through you that had nothing to do with the fight.

Anna was still watching, her eyes never leaving the two of you. You could feel her presence like a shadow, and it made you hyper-aware of every little thing. Every glance, every brush of skin, every breath you took. It was as if she was part of the tension, part of the pull that was keeping you and Remy locked in this dance.

And then, in a blur of motion, you saw your opening.

Remy went for a high kick, and you ducked low, sweeping your leg under his to knock him off balance. He stumbled, and before he could recover, you were on him, driving him back onto the mat with a hard, controlled thud. His back hit the ground, and you followed through, straddling him as you pinned his hands above his head.

Your breath was coming fast, your heart pounding in your chest as you leaned over him, your faces only inches apart. His eyes were wide, surprised for just a second, but then that familiar smirk crept back onto his lips, though this time there was something darker, something more heated behind it.

“Looks like I win,” you whispered, your voice barely more than a breath as you leaned in closer, your lips hovering just above his. His hands tensed under yours, his fingers twitching like he was fighting the urge to pull free, to grab you, to close the distance between you.

For a moment, neither of you moved. The tension between you was suffocating, your bodies pressed together in a way that felt far too intimate for a sparring match. His breath was hot against your lips, and you could feel the wild beat of his heart under your palm where you held him down.

You thought he might kiss you.

The thought struck you like lightning, your pulse skipping as you stared down at him. His eyes flicked to your lips, dark and full of intent, and for a second, the world around you disappeared. It was just you and him, the heat between you, the gravity pulling you closer, closer…

But then you remembered Anna. Sitting just a few feet away, her eyes on you, watching everything. You remembered the way her gaze had lingered on you both, the way her presence had always been there, part of this strange, unspoken thing between the three of you.

And the guilt hit you like a wave.

You pulled back, releasing Remy’s wrists as you quickly stood up, stepping away from him before you could let yourself fall any deeper into whatever this was.

He stayed on the mat for a moment, breathing hard, his eyes still locked on you. There was a flicker of something in his gaze—something like disappointment, or maybe frustration—but he didn’t say anything. He just sat up slowly, running a hand through his hair as he gave you a small, almost resigned smile.

“Guess y’ win,” he murmured, his voice hoarse.

You forced a smile, trying to ignore the way your heart was still racing. “Guess I do.”

The tension still hung between you, thick and heavy, but now it felt different—more complicated, more dangerous. You could feel it pulling at you, dragging you toward him, toward Anna, toward something you didn’t know how to handle. Something you weren’t sure you could handle.

Because it wasn’t just about you and Remy. It was about all of you. This messy, confusing situation between the three of you that none of you were willing to name but all of you felt. The way your heart pulled in two directions—toward him, toward her—and the way it felt like every step you took closer to one of them only made things more complicated with the other.

You didn’t know how to move forward from here. How to navigate this constant push and pull between the three of you without breaking something in the process.

The days that followed that sparring match with Remy were a blur of tangled emotions and unspoken tension. You’d thought that pulling back in that moment—stepping away before things went too far—would ease some of the pressure building between you, but instead, it only seemed to magnify it. It was like that moment had opened a door that none of you could close, and now, every interaction felt charged with something simmering just beneath the surface.

The tension between you, Remy, and Anna didn’t just linger—it grew. Slowly, steadily, like a fire fed by the smallest of sparks, until it was impossible to ignore.

It started in the little things.

When you trained together, the touches became more frequent, more deliberate. Remy’s hand would linger a second too long on your waist when he helped you with your stance, his fingers brushing your skin in a way that sent heat flooding through you. Anna, too, was more physical than usual—her fingers brushing through your hair as she passed you in the kitchen, her arm casually draping over your shoulders when you sat beside her on the couch.

But it wasn’t just the touches. It was the way they looked at you. The way their eyes would linger just a little too long, filled with an intensity that made your skin prickle with awareness. You could feel it every time you caught Remy watching you out of the corner of your eye, his gaze dark and unreadable. Or when Anna’s eyes would lock with yours during a quiet moment, a slow, lazy smile tugging at her lips as if she knew exactly what was going through your mind.

The days continued like this, each one more charged than the last. It wasn’t just the physical touches or the lingering glances anymore—it was everything. The way their voices lowered when they spoke to you, the way they seemed to find excuses to be closer to you, the way your heart raced every time they so much as smiled your way.

And the worst part was, you couldn’t decide if you wanted them to stop or if you wanted to give in.

Because that was the truth of it, wasn’t it? You wanted this—wanted them. Both of them. And you had for a long time now. But you didn’t know how to handle it, didn’t know what to do with all of these messy, complicated feelings that were pulling you in two different directions.

You cared about them both—more than you should. And that was the problem. Because every time you thought about what it would mean to cross that line, to give in to the tension that had been building between the three of you, you couldn’t help but wonder what would happen after.

Would it break everything? Would it make things too complicated, too messy, to go back to the way things were? Or was this inevitable—something that had been building for so long that none of you could stop it, even if you wanted to?

You didn’t know.

All you knew was that the tension between you, Remy, and Anna was growing stronger with each passing day, like a storm gathering on the horizon. And sooner or later, something was going to have to give.

The night it finally happened, it wasn't planned. It never could have been.

The night was warm, the soft hum of music filling the room as you sat on the floor between Anna and Remy. The three of you had fallen into this familiar arrangement without much thought: you, cross-legged on the soft cushion, and them, sprawled comfortably on either side of you.

Remy’s legs were stretched out in front of him, one arm draped casually over the back of the couch one arm down by his knee, just close enough that he could touch you. Every so often, his fingers would graze the back of your neck, a touch so light it almost felt accidental, but you knew by now that nothing Remy did was by accident. You could feel his eyes on you, that familiar smirk tugging at the corner of his lips as he watched you sip from your glass.

On the other side, Anna sat with one leg tucked beneath her, the other resting lazily against your side. Her hand had found its way into your hair at some point, her fingers absentmindedly playing with the strands as she leaned back into the cushions. It was a small, intimate gesture, something she’d done a hundred times before, but tonight, it felt different. More deliberate. More charged.

The room was quiet, save for the soft clink of glasses and the low murmur of the music. You hadn’t spoken in a while, but the silence wasn’t uncomfortable—it was heavy, thick with something none of you had dared to address yet. Something that had been building for weeks, maybe longer. You could feel it in the way Remy’s fingers lingered just a fraction of a second too long, in the way Anna’s foot brushed against your thigh, her touch warm and steady.

You shifted slightly, your knee brushing against Anna’s leg, and you felt her fingers tighten in your hair for just a moment before she let out a soft sigh, her lips curving into a knowing smile. She didn’t say anything, but you could feel her watching you, her gaze heavy, like she was waiting for you to break the silence.

But you didn’t. You couldn’t.

The tension between the three of you had been simmering for so long that it felt like part of the air you breathed, something you had all grown used to but never acknowledged. Best friends, sure, but there had always been something more, something none of you had been willing to confront—until now.

It was Remy who finally broke the silence, his voice low and rough, like he’d been holding back for too long. “You alright do there, chère?” His tone was casual, but there was an edge to it, something dark and teasing that made your pulse quicken.

You glanced up at him, your heart skipping as you met his gaze. The grin on his face was familiar, but his eyes were darker than usual, filled with a heat that sent a shiver down your spine. You swallowed, trying to keep your voice steady. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

Anna’s fingers slid through your hair again, the movement slow and deliberate, her nails grazing your scalp in a way that made your breath hitch. “You sure about that?” she murmured, her voice soft, playful. “You seem a little tense.”

Your mouth felt dry, your body hyper-aware of the way you were caught between them, their touches light but impossible to ignore. You shifted again, trying to find some space, some distance, but it was useless. You were trapped—physically, emotionally, in every way that mattered.

Remy chuckled softly, his fingers brushing the back of your neck again, and you couldn’t help but shiver at the contact. He leaned forward slightly, his breath warm against your ear. “You know we can tell when you’re lyin’, right?”

Your heart pounded in your chest, your pulse racing as you sat there, sandwiched between them, caught in the web of tension that had been spinning tighter and tighter with every passing minute.

Anna’s hand stilled in your hair, her touch gentle but firm as she leaned in closer, her lips brushing the shell of your ear, sending a jolt of electricity through you. “You don’t have to pretend with us. Not anymore.”

Her words hung in the air, heavy with meaning, and suddenly the weight of the room felt unbearable. You could feel the heat from their bodies pressing into you from both sides, could feel the way their attention lingered on you, sharp and focused, like they were waiting for something. Waiting for you to make the first move.

But you couldn’t. You didn’t know how to.

Instead, you sat there, your heart racing, your breath coming in short, shallow bursts as you tried to process what was happening. The push and pull between the three of you, the desire that had been simmering under the surface for so long, was finally coming to a head, and you didn’t know if you were ready for it.

But then Anna’s hand moved again—this time sliding down from your hair to your shoulder, her fingers brushing the bare skin of your arm. You turned your head slightly, your breath catching in your throat as you met her gaze. Her eyes were dark, intense, filled with a hunger you hadn’t seen before, and the sight of it made something inside you snap.

Before you could think, before you could stop yourself, you leaned in.

The kiss was soft at first, tentative, like you were both testing the waters, unsure of how far this would go. But the moment your lips touched hers, the floodgates opened. Anna’s hand slid to the back of your neck, pulling you closer as her mouth moved against yours, soft and insistent. The taste of her was intoxicating—sweet with a hint of the wine she’d been drinking earlier—and it made your head spin.

You could feel Remy’s eyes on you, could feel the tension in the air thickening as he watched the two of you kiss. His presence was a weight on your skin, a heat that you couldn’t ignore, even as Anna’s lips claimed yours.

When you finally pulled back, breathless, you turned to look at him. His eyes were dark, his lips parted slightly, and the look on his face sent a rush of heat straight through you. He didn’t wait for an invitation. His hand slid to your jaw, tilting your head toward him, and then his mouth was on yours, rougher than Anna’s, hungrier, like he’d been waiting for this moment for far too long.

The kiss was searing, your body responding instinctively as you kissed him back, your hands fisting in the fabric of his shirt as he pulled you closer. His lips were warm, demanding, and the way he kissed you—like he needed you—made your entire body tremble.

Anna’s hand was still on you, her fingers trailing down your arm, her touch grounding you even as your mind spun from the intensity of Remy’s kiss. When he finally pulled back, his breath was ragged, his forehead resting against yours as he whispered, “We been waitin’ for this, chère.”

You didn’t know what to say, didn’t know how to put into words the storm of emotions swirling inside you. But then Anna’s lips were on your neck, soft and teasing, and Remy’s hand slid down your side, and suddenly words didn’t matter anymore.

The tension that had been building between the three of you for so long finally snapped, and as you melted into their touch, into their kisses, you realized that this—this—was what you had been waiting for all along.

The moment felt suspended, as if the world had drifted away and left only the three of you in its wake. Your heart was pounding in your chest, a wild, erratic rhythm that matched the rush of emotions flooding through you. The air in the room was thick, buzzing with an energy that had been building for so long it was almost tangible now, surrounding the three of you like an invisible force, pulling you closer.

Remy’s forehead was still resting against yours, his breath warm and unsteady as he held you, his fingers curled around your waist. Anna’s lips were at your neck, soft and teasing, her breath tickling your skin as her hand slid down your arm, her touch light but deliberate. You were caught between them, surrounded by their heat, their desire, and it felt like you were standing on the edge of something vast and unknown, something you couldn’t turn away from.

Your mind was a whirlwind—overwhelmed, dazed, and yet, everything felt so right. It was like the pieces of some long-unsolved puzzle had finally fallen into place. The tension between you, Anna, and Remy wasn’t something that could be ignored anymore. It had been simmering for too long, and now that it was finally unraveling, there was no stopping it.

You could feel Anna’s lips smiling against your skin, her hand sliding up to the nape of your neck, fingers tangling in your hair as she tugged you gently back, forcing you to turn toward her. Her eyes were dark, glinting with that familiar mischievousness, but there was something deeper there too—something raw and unguarded. She leaned in, her lips brushing yours again, softer this time, almost like she was savoring the moment.

“You okay there, sugar?” she whispered, her voice low, husky. Her fingers traced a line down the side of your face, her touch sending shivers through you.

You nodded, unable to find your voice, your heart still racing in your chest. The look in her eyes was enough to make you dizzy, and the way she was touching you—light, teasing, but with a promise of something more—made it impossible to think clearly.

Remy’s grip on your waist tightened slightly, pulling your attention back to him. His hand moved up your side, his fingers brushing the bare skin where your shirt had ridden up. His touch was warmer now, more possessive, and when you turned to look at him, the intensity in his eyes made your breath hitch.

He didn’t say anything—he didn’t need to. His hand slid to the back of your neck, mirroring Anna’s, and tilted your head toward him again. His lips found yours, rougher this time, more demanding as he kissed you like he couldn’t wait any longer. His mouth moved over yours, hungry and insistent, and the feel of him—his body so close, his lips so sure—made your whole body respond.

Anna’s hands didn’t stop moving, her fingers brushing over your shoulder, down your arm, back up your sides. Her lips found your ear, her breath hot against your skin as she murmured something you couldn’t quite catch, her voice sending a shiver down your spine. You were caught between them again, your body, your senses, overwhelmed by the way they were touching you, the way they seemed to know exactly how to push you to the edge.

And yet, it felt so natural. Like this was always supposed to happen.

Remy’s kiss left you breathless, and when he finally pulled back, his hand still cradling the back of your neck, his eyes locked with yours. There was a question there, unspoken but clear, and you knew what he was asking—what they were both asking.

“Are you sure about this?” His voice was low, but there was an edge of softness there, an uncharacteristic vulnerability that made your heart clench. He brushed a thumb over your cheek, his gaze steady, waiting for your answer.

You swallowed hard, glancing between him and Anna, who was watching you with that same quiet intensity. They were both waiting for you to make the call, both poised on the edge but unwilling to push you unless you were ready. It was a moment of clarity amidst the haze of desire—a moment where you realized that this was real, this was happening, and you had the power to decide how far it would go.

But the truth was, you didn’t want to stop. You didn’t want to pull away, didn’t want to go back to pretending that the three of you could keep dancing around this without falling into it. You wanted this—wanted them—and you had for longer than you cared to admit.

You took a deep breath, your heart still racing, and nodded. “I’m sure.”

The words were barely out of your mouth before Anna was kissing you again, her lips claiming yours with a hunger that sent a spark of heat straight through you. Her hand slid to your waist, pulling you closer as her mouth moved over yours, urgent, insistent. You could feel the smile on her lips, the way her body pressed against yours, and it made your pulse race.

Remy’s hand stayed on your neck, his breath warm against your ear as he whispered, “Good.”

And then his lips were on your skin—kissing a trail down the side of your neck, sending shivers through you with every touch. His hands moved over your body with a surety that made your head spin, his fingers tracing the curve of your waist, your hips, like he had memorized every inch of you.

Anna pulled back just enough to look at you, her eyes dark and full of heat as she ran her thumb over your bottom lip, her breath coming in short, shallow bursts. “You have no idea how long we’ve wanted this.”

Her words sent a shiver through you, and you couldn’t help the small gasp that escaped your lips as Remy’s teeth grazed the sensitive skin of your neck. His hand slid down your back, his fingers digging into your waist as he pulled you closer, his lips trailing lower, leaving a path of heat in their wake.

You were lost in them—caught between the two people you cared about more than anything, their touches, their kisses, their desire winding around you until it was impossible to tell where one ended and the other began. Their hands moved over your body like they had been waiting for this moment as long as you had, and every touch, every kiss, made your pulse race faster, made your skin burn hotter.

Anna’s lips found yours again, her kiss deeper this time, more insistent, and you couldn’t help but respond, your hands tangling in her hair as you kissed her back. Remy’s hand slid beneath your shirt, his touch warm and sure, and the feel of his fingers on your skin sent waves of heat coursing through you.

The way they touched you together—Anna’s soft, teasing caresses and Remy’s rough, possessive hands—was overwhelming in the best way. It was like your body couldn’t keep up with the sensations, with the way their hands moved over your skin, with the way their lips claimed you in turns, leaving you breathless, dizzy, and wanting more.

Anna’s kiss would leave you soft and pliant, her lips slow and sweet against yours, her hands stroking down your sides, only for Remy to pull you back into his arms, his kiss rougher, deeper, igniting a fire that Anna would soothe with her soft, teasing touch. They worked together in a way that felt natural, effortless, like they knew exactly how to push you to the edge and then pull you back, only to push you again, higher each time.

Anna’s hands slid beneath your shirt, her fingers tracing the curve of your waist, her touch light and gentle, while Remy’s hands followed, his fingers pressing into your skin, his touch firm, grounding you as Anna leaned in to kiss you again, her lips soft, her breath warm against your cheek. The contrast between their touches—the softness of Anna’s lips, the roughness of Remy’s hands—was almost too much, and it made your head spin, made your body ache with a need you’d never felt before.

They kissed you in turns, their hands exploring your body with a familiarity that made you feel both wanted and cherished, like they had been waiting for this moment as long as you had, like they had always known this was where it would end up. Their touches were slow but deliberate, teasing but firm, and every kiss, every caress, sent another wave of heat through you, another rush of desire that made your skin burn hotter, your breath come faster. Anna’s hands paused at the hem of your shirt, her fingers gripping the fabric lightly, just enough to anchor you in the moment. Her lips, which had been trailing a path down to your collarbone, stopped, hovering just above your skin as if waiting for something—waiting for you. The warmth of her breath ghosted over your chest, a soft, steady reminder of her presence, her touch, but she didn’t push any further. Not yet.

You could sense the question in her stillness, the way her fingers curled but didn’t tug, the way her body pressed close but didn’t assume. It was a silent request, a pause filled with meaning that went beyond the heat of the moment. Anna wasn’t asking with words, but you knew exactly what she wanted to know.

Behind you, Remy hadn’t moved either. His hand, which had been tracing slow, deliberate circles along your back, stilled as he caught onto the moment, sensing the same hesitation that Anna was offering you. He didn’t say anything—he rarely needed to. His presence was solid, grounding, as he waited alongside her, his breath steady but shallow, his body tensed under the weight of the unspoken question.

Did you want this?

Your heart pounded in your chest, your pulse thrumming in your ears as you considered the weight of the moment. Everything had been leading to this point—the months of lingering touches, teasing glances, nights where the tension crackled between the three of you but remained unspoken. And now, here you were, standing on the precipice of something that could change everything.

Anna’s fingers tightened slightly, her lips brushing just the faintest touch against your collarbone as her eyes flicked up to meet yours. In her gaze, there was no doubt, no impatience—only that quiet, steady question.

Did you want them?

Your breath caught as you glanced between them. Remy’s eyes were dark, intense, his lips parted slightly as he watched you, waiting for your answer. His hand was still on your back, warm and steady, a silent reassurance that whatever you chose, they would follow your lead. His touch was gentle, but the desire in his gaze was undeniable, the heat between you impossible to ignore.

Anna was softer, her eyes searching yours, her lips hovering just above your skin, waiting for permission. Her hand was still gripping the fabric of your shirt, but she wasn’t pulling—just holding, just asking. Her mouth curved into the smallest of smiles, a quiet, knowing expression that told you she was ready, but only if you were too.

You swallowed hard, your throat tight, and your mind raced with a thousand thoughts. This was all so new, so intense, and yet, in some way, it felt inevitable. A part of you had always known it would come to this—the three of you, together, caught in this web of desire and affection that had been growing for so long.

Did you want them?

You took a breath, trying to steady yourself, your mind swirling with the weight of the decision. But it wasn’t just about desire—there was more to this. It was about trust, about stepping into something unknown with two people you cared about more than anything. It was about giving yourself over to them, letting them in, deeper than they already were.

Your body was already answering the question for you. The way your skin burned under their touch, the way your heart raced, the way your breath hitched every time Anna’s lips brushed against you or Remy’s hand moved over your back—it was too much to deny.

And the truth was, you didn’t want to deny it.

You wanted them. You wanted this.

You exhaled slowly, nodding, your voice barely above a whisper as you answered the question they hadn’t asked aloud but had been waiting for all the same.

“Yes.”

The word barely left your lips before Anna’s fingers tightened on the bottom of your shirt, her hands slipping beneath the fabric with a deliberate, slow movement. She smiled up at you, her eyes filled with warmth and desire, and as she pulled the shirt up over your head, her lips found your skin again—this time just above your heart, soft and reverent.

Remy’s hand shifted on your back, his fingers pressing into your skin as he leaned in closer, his body warm and solid behind you. His lips brushed against the side of your neck, his breath hot and ragged as he kissed a slow path down to your shoulder, his other hand sliding up to cup your jaw, tilting your head back slightly.

The touch of them both at once—Anna’s hands on your skin, Remy’s lips tracing the curve of your neck—was overwhelming in the best way. It was everything you had been holding back, everything they had been waiting for, finally unleashed in a slow, deliberate unwrapping of desire.

Anna’s hands roamed your sides, her fingertips gentle but firm, her lips following the trail of her touch as she kissed her way down your chest, leaving a line of fire in her wake. Her mouth was soft, teasing, and when she reached your stomach, she paused, her breath warm against your skin as she looked up at you, her eyes dark and full of promise.

Behind you, Remy’s hands moved with more urgency now, his lips pressing harder against your skin as he kissed the sensitive spot just below your ear, his teeth grazing your neck in a way that made you gasp. His fingers slid around to your front, his touch rougher than Anna’s, more insistent, and the contrast between them made your head spin.

The air was thick with anticipation, charged with something electric that made your skin tingle, every nerve alive and buzzing. Your heart pounded in your chest, a wild rhythm that echoed through your entire body, matching the intense, almost unbearable heat that surrounded you. Remy and Anna were close—closer than they had ever been—and their presence felt like gravity, pulling you deeper into this moment, into them.

You felt Remy shift behind you, the sound of fabric rustling as he tugged his shirt over his head, and for a brief second, the cool air of the room touched your skin. But then it was gone, replaced by the heat of his bare chest pressing against your back. The warmth of his skin was immediate, searing, and you could feel every inch of him—the solid planes of his body, the way his chest rose and fell with every breath, the way his skin felt against yours, hot and smooth.

The heat between you was almost overwhelming, like a fire that had been stoked for too long and was now blazing, out of control. His body pressed more firmly into yours, his chest molding to your back, and the sensation was intoxicating—intimate in a way that made your pulse quicken, your breath hitch in your throat. Every inch of him felt like it was branding you, his warmth sinking into your skin, into your bones, until you weren’t sure where you ended and he began.

His arms slid around your waist, pulling you even closer, and you could feel the strength in his grip, the way his fingers curled into your sides, holding you tight. His breath was hot against your ear, ragged and uneven, and you could feel the tension in his body, the way he was holding himself back, even though the heat between you both was rising by the second.

He leaned in, his lips brushing the side of your neck, the barest touch, but it sent a jolt of electricity straight through you. His mouth was warm, his breath hot, and the contrast between the softness of his lips and the solid heat of his chest against your back made you tremble. Every kiss, every touch, felt like it was fanning the flames inside you, pushing you closer to the edge.

Anna was in front of you, her eyes dark and full of fire as she watched you, her lips curved into a knowing smile. Her fingers traced the line of your jaw, light and teasing, and she leaned in, her breath warm against your lips as she whispered, “You feel that, don’t you?” Her voice was low, sultry, and the way she said it made your breath catch, your body aching for more.

You nodded, unable to find your voice, your entire body trembling with the heat and the closeness of them both. Remy’s hands were still on you, his fingers sliding up your sides, his touch firm and deliberate, while Anna’s lips brushed yours again, soft and teasing.

They were everywhere—surrounding you, touching you, kissing you—and you felt like you were on fire, burning from the inside out. The way they moved together, the way they touched you, it was like they had been waiting for this moment as long as you had, like they knew exactly how to bring you to the edge without sending you over.

Remy’s body pressed harder against yours, his chest warm and firm, and you could feel his heartbeat, strong and fast, matching the wild rhythm of your own. His lips found your shoulder, kissing a slow, deliberate path up to your neck, his breath hot against your skin. His hands slid down to your hips, gripping you tightly, and the feel of him—his body, his heat, his desire—wrapped around you like a cocoon, making it impossible to think of anything but them.

Anna’s lips found yours again, her kiss deeper this time, more insistent, and you couldn’t help but respond, your hands tangling in her hair as you kissed her back. Her body pressed into yours, her hands sliding over your skin, and the sensation of being caught between them—between the heat of Remy’s chest and the softness of Anna’s kiss—was almost too much to bear.

"Like what y’ see?" Remy's voice rumbled from behind you, his breath hot against the back of your neck. You shivered, unable to stifle a gasp as his hands roamed over your body, tracing the contours of your hips, your waist, before settling on your breasts, thumbing your nipples through the thin fabric of your bra.

Anna moved closer, her lips brushing against your ear as she whispered, "Take it off. Show us all of you." Her command sent a thrill down your spine, and you obeyed without hesitation, unclasping your bra and letting it fall away. Your bare skin felt exposed, vulnerable under their combined gaze, but there was no fear, only an intoxicating rush of desire.

Remy's hands never left you, his touch firm and possessive as he kneaded your breasts, his thumbs flicking your nipples to hard peaks. You bit your lip, trying to stifle a moan as he edged his way around to the front of you, his eyes locked on yours, dark and intense. He leaned in, his mouth closing over one nipple, sucking and teasing it until you were breathless.

"Fuck," he growled, lifting his head to look at you. Anna’s collar gleamed in the dim light, the silver catching the faint glow of the room. The sight of it—a stark reminder of what it meant—sent a shiver down your spine. That collar, with its sleek design, was the only thing keeping her abilities at bay, allowing her to touch you fully, without the fear of her power slipping through. Without it, every touch would be infused with the overwhelming force of her gift, something neither of you could control. But now, with it in place, her hands could move freely over your skin, unburdened by the weight of her abilities.

She was staring at you, her eyes dark and intent, a small, knowing smile curving her lips as her fingertips continued to trace slow, lazy patterns across your collarbone, down your arms, lingering at the places where your pulse beat the hardest. Her touch was soft but deliberate, teasing, almost testing the boundaries of what this collar had given her—given both of you.

You could feel the heat of her skin, the way her fingers pressed into you, the sensation so real, so vivid, that it made you tremble. It was like you were truly feeling her for the first time. Her smile deepened, almost as though she could sense the way your body responded to her touch, the way your breath hitched, the way your skin flushed under her fingertips.

"Finally," she whispered, her voice low, husky with satisfaction. "No barriers."

Her words sent a jolt of something dark and thrilling through you, and you couldn't help but shiver beneath her touch. There was something intoxicating about the way she said it—like she had been waiting for this moment, yearning for it, just as much as you had. The weight of her gaze, heavy and heated, was enough to make your heart stutter in your chest.

But then your senses were pulled elsewhere.

Remy’s hand slipped lower, his fingers skimming over your stomach with a deliberate slowness that made your breath catch in your throat. His touch was warm, rougher than Anna’s, but just as certain, just as sure. He moved like he knew exactly where he was going, like he had memorized the map of your body and knew every curve, every dip, every place that would make you gasp.

And then he found it.

His fingers dipped just beneath the waistband of your pants, sliding lower, and your body reacted instantly, a soft gasp escaping your lips. The sound was louder this time, unrestrained, as his fingers slipped further, finding the wetness that had been building, slick and eager, waiting for him.

The sensation of his fingers against your most sensitive spot made you tremble, your breath staggering as the pleasure hit you in a slow, powerful wave. You barely managed to keep your eyes open, your body instinctively arching toward his touch, desperate for more.

You closed your eyes for a brief moment, overwhelmed by the heat of his touch, the steady pressure of his fingers. The tension that had been building between the three of you was finally unraveling, and it was almost too much to bear. Your breath stuttered, catching in your throat, your pulse racing as your body responded to the intensity of his touch.

But when you opened your eyes again, you found Anna still watching you.

Her gaze was fixed on your face, dark and full of heat, and there was a smile playing on her lips—small, but full of meaning. She didn’t need to speak; the look in her eyes said everything. She could see the way you were reacting to Remy’s touch, could see the way your body was trembling, the way your breath hitched, and the sight seemed to please her.

Her smile deepened, a glint of something wicked flashing in her eyes as she leaned in closer, her breath warm against your cheek. “You like that, don’t you?” she murmured, her voice soft but teasing, her fingers tracing the line of your jaw. She tilted your head slightly, forcing you to meet her gaze, and the intensity in her eyes made your pulse race faster.

The collar around her neck, still gleaming in the low light, was a constant reminder of what she was capable of—and what she was holding back. Without it, her power would overwhelm you, flood your senses, make it impossible to focus on anything but the raw force of her energy. But with it, she was free to touch you fully, to explore you without restraint, and the thought of it—of her finally being able to hold you like this—made your entire body burn with anticipation.

Anna’s hand slid lower, her fingers brushing the fabric of your shirt, teasing the skin just beneath, as Remy’s fingers continued their slow, deliberate exploration. His touch was steady, sending ripples of pleasure through you with every movement, and it was getting harder to focus on anything but the heat pooling low in your stomach, the way your body was aching for more.

But Anna was relentless. She wanted your attention, and she wasn’t going to let you slip away just yet.

“Look at me,” she whispered, her voice a soft command, her fingers tightening slightly on your chin. Her eyes were dark, filled with something deep and primal, and the way she was looking at you made your breath catch. “I want to see you.”

Her words sent a shiver down your spine, and you could feel the weight of her gaze, the way her eyes tracked every movement, every gasp, every tremor that ran through your body in response to Remy’s touch. She was watching you so closely, so intently, and it made the moment feel even more intimate, more charged. She wanted to witness everything—every flutter of your eyelids, every soft, breathless sound that escaped your lips.

Remy’s fingers dipped lower, pressing against you in a way that sent a sharp jolt of pleasure through your body, and you couldn’t help the gasp that escaped you. Your eyes fluttered shut for a moment, your body arching toward his hand, but Anna’s fingers tightened on your chin, her soft voice pulling you back.

“Don’t look away,” she murmured, her lips brushing your ear. “I want to see everything.”

Her voice was like a soft caress, threading through the haze of sensation that had overtaken your body, and you couldn’t bring yourself to deny her. There was something about Anna’s calm control, her soft but unwavering command, that made you feel completely pliant, entirely hers in this moment. Even as your body trembled, overwhelmed by the combined heat of their touches, your eyes fluttered open at her request, drawn back to her like a moth to flame.

When your gaze met hers, the intensity in her eyes made your breath falter. Her smile had shifted—no longer the soft, teasing curve of earlier, but something darker, something more possessive. It was like she was savoring every tremor that coursed through your body, every soft gasp that escaped your lips, knowing she was the one pulling you apart, piece by piece. She looked at you like she owned you, like she was watching her own creation unravel before her, and the heat that surged through your veins in response was staggering.

Your body was already buzzing, every nerve alive and singing, but the way Anna’s eyes bore into yours made your pulse race even faster. You could feel the weight of her attention, the way she was watching you so closely, so intently, cataloging every reaction, every shift in your expression. It was intoxicating—being held in her gaze like this, knowing she was relishing every second of your unraveling.

And then Remy’s voice cut through the thick air, low and rough with arousal. “She likes it,” he murmured, his breath warm against your skin. His voice was like a growl, deep and heavy, and it sent a shiver straight through you. You could feel the hunger in his tone, the way his desire was building, and it only made your own need spike even higher.

“But I think,” he continued, his fingers still moving in that slow, deliberate rhythm that was driving you wild, “she likes this even more.”

Before you could process his words, his fingers pulled away, leaving you empty, bereft, and you couldn’t stop the soft whimper that escaped your lips. The loss of his touch was immediate, a sharp contrast to the heat that had been building inside you, and for a moment, all you could feel was the aching need that hung heavy in the air. Your legs trembled, your breath caught, and your body instinctively arched toward him, desperate for the return of his touch.

But Remy wasn’t done. You felt his hands slide down your thighs, his fingers curling around the fabric of your panties before he slowly, deliberately, began to tug them down. The cool air hit your bare skin, making you shiver, but it did nothing to soothe the fire that was burning in your core. If anything, it only heightened the sensation, the contrast between the chill of the room and the heat of your body making you tremble with anticipation.

And then, before the coolness could settle, before you had a chance to adjust, the warmth of Remy’s mouth replaced his fingers, and everything inside you snapped taut. His tongue darted out, soft and warm, as he began to lap at your folds, and the sensation was so intense, so overwhelming, that your knees threatened to buckle. Your breath hitched, a sharp gasp escaping you as the pleasure surged through you in a powerful wave.

Remy’s mouth was relentless, his tongue moving with purpose, exploring every inch of you with a skill that made your mind go blank, your body react on instinct alone. The heat of his mouth, the wet, slick feel of his tongue as it circled and teased, sent shockwaves of pleasure straight through you, and you couldn’t stop the soft, desperate sounds that spilled from your lips. Your hands instinctively reached for something to hold, something to ground you, but all you could do was grip the sheets beneath you, your body trembling with the force of the sensations coursing through you.

Anna didn’t miss a beat, her fingers never stopping their slow, maddening rhythm over your clit, drawing out every ounce of pleasure that Remy was sending through you. Her other hand gripped your hip possessively, her nails digging into your skin just enough to remind you that she was there, that you were hers. The weight of her hand, the way her fingers pressed into the soft flesh of your hip, anchored you in the moment, kept you tethered even as your body threatened to spiral out of control.

Anna’s movements were quick, fluid, as she shifted around, positioning herself beside you. Her fingers still worked your clit with a steady, knowing pressure, but now her lips sought yours, and the moment they found you, everything else melted away.

Her kiss was deep, hungry, her tongue sliding into your mouth with a heat that matched Remy’s below. The taste of her was intoxicating, sweet and urgent, and you couldn’t help but respond, your hands tangling in her hair as you kissed her back with equal fervor. Her lips were soft, but her kiss was demanding, guiding you, taking from you, and you gave yourself over to her completely, lost in the overwhelming sensation of her mouth on yours, of Remy’s tongue between your legs.

The combined heat of them both—the way Remy’s mouth worked you below, the way Anna’s lips claimed yours—was like nothing you had ever felt before. It was too much, and yet not enough, and your body was caught in the middle, trembling, burning, aching for more. Every nerve was on fire, every inch of your skin alive with sensation, and you couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe, couldn’t do anything but feel.

Anna’s hand tightened on your hip, her fingers digging into your skin, and the small bite of pain only added to the pleasure, grounding you in the moment. Her kiss grew deeper, more insistent, and you moaned into her mouth, the sound vibrating between you as Remy’s tongue continued its relentless assault on your body.

The pressure was building, coiling tighter and tighter inside you, and you could feel the edge approaching, the pleasure rising higher and higher with every flick of Remy’s tongue, every stroke of Anna’s fingers. Your body was trembling, your breath coming in short, ragged gasps, and it felt like you were teetering on the brink, so close to falling over but not quite there.

Anna pulled back from the kiss, her lips still hovering close to yours, her breath warm against your skin. She smiled, that same dark, possessive smile, and her eyes gleamed with satisfaction as she watched you unravel beneath her and Remy’s combined touch.

“You’re close, aren’t you?” she whispered, her voice soft but full of command. “I can feel it.”

You couldn’t speak, couldn’t form words, but your body answered for you, your back arching, your legs trembling as the tension inside you built to a breaking point. Anna’s fingers moved faster, her touch more insistent, and Remy’s tongue quickened its pace, pushing you closer and closer to the edge.

“Let go, sugar” Anna murmured, her lips brushing against your ear as her hand squeezed your hip, her fingers still working your clit. “Let us take you there.”

And with her words, with the heat of Remy’s mouth and the command in Anna’s voice, you finally let go.

The orgasm hit you like a wave, crashing over you with a force that stole your breath, your body shuddering violently as the pleasure tore through you. Your hips bucked, your hands clutching at the couch as you rode the intense wave of sensation, your mind blank, your body consumed by the heat and the pleasure and the overwhelming feeling of being completely and utterly theirs.

They didn’t stop. Remy’s tongue continued to lap at you, drawing out every last bit of pleasure, while Anna’s fingers kept their steady rhythm, pushing you higher, driving you deeper into the sensation, until you thought you might come apart completely.

Anna’s hand slid up your body, her fingers brushing over your flushed skin, soothing, grounding you as she leaned in to press a soft, lingering kiss to your lips. Remy pulled back, his breath warm against your thigh as he rested his head against your leg, his hand stroking your skin in slow, gentle circles. “Ready?” Anna whispers in your ear, her breath warm against your skin. The closeness of her voice sends shivers down your spine, a familiar heat blooming in your chest. “Remy and I have been talking for a long time about what we want to do to you.”

Her words linger in the air, thick with anticipation, and your pulse quickens. There’s something in her voice—something dark, something possessive—that makes your mouth go dry and your knees weak. You can only nod, unable to form words in the haze of tension and excitement that surrounds you. Every part of your body feels alive, buzzing with the pressure of everything that’s about to happen.

Anna’s hand trails down your body, her fingertips barely grazing your skin as they follow the curve of your waist, then dip lower, skimming over the top of your thigh. The lightness of her touch is maddening, teasing, making your skin prickle with need. Your heart races, each beat syncing with the slow, deliberate movements of her hand. You try to breathe, try to steady yourself, but the anticipation is too much, winding tighter and tighter inside you with every second that passes.

Remy’s presence is a constant warmth by your legs, his strong hands returning to your hips. His thumbs brush over the sensitive skin just above the line of your underwear, creating a contrast between the soft touch and the intensity of the moment. Slowly, deliberately, he begins to pull them down, the fabric catching on your thighs before finally slipping away, leaving you even more exposed. Every inch of skin that’s revealed feels like it’s burning with anticipation, your breaths coming out in shallow, uneven gasps.

You can feel both of them now—Anna’s fingers still ghosting over your skin, and Remy’s hands, steady and certain, as they guide your underwear down, leaving you bare before them. There’s no turning back now. You’re completely at their mercy, every inch of your body aching for what’s to come.

Anna’s hand moves again, sliding back up, her fingers brushing against the inside of your thigh. Her touch is light, teasing, edging closer to your center but never quite touching where you want her most. It’s a deliberate game, and she’s playing it well. You can’t help but squirm beneath her hand, your body arching toward her, desperate for more. But she doesn’t give in—not yet. She’s savoring this, taking her time, watching you unravel.

Her dark eyes lock onto yours, a smirk tugging at the corner of her lips as she bites down on her lower lip, clearly enjoying the way you tremble under her touch. The tension is almost unbearable, the need inside you building with every teasing stroke of her fingers.

And then, without warning, she grabs your hand, pulling you up, bringing you to your feet with a swift, fluid motion. The world tilts for a moment, and suddenly you’re standing in front of her, bare and vulnerable, the intensity of the moment crashing over you like a wave.

Remy moves silently to the couch, his eyes never leaving you, his presence a constant, grounding force. He leans back, watching, waiting, his gaze dark with desire. There’s something about the way he looks at you that makes your heart stutter—a mix of hunger and patience, like he’s content to watch for now, but he’s ready to pounce at any moment.

Anna’s hand tightens around yours, guiding you closer to her. You do as she asks, your fingers trembling slightly as you reach for her. The roles feel reversed now—moments ago, it was you who was being undressed, teased, but now you’re the one peeling the fabric away from her skin, your hands roaming over her curves with a new kind of hunger.

Your fingers find the clasp of her bra, and with practiced ease, you unfasten it, letting the fabric slide away from her body. Her skin is warm, soft, and as the bra falls away, you can’t help but admire the way her chest rises and falls with each shaky breath. The flush on her skin mirrors the heat coursing through your own body, and the sight of her like this—exposed, trembling, just as affected as you—makes your pulse race even faster.

Without a word, you sink to your knees in front of her, your hands sliding up the outside of her thighs as you move. Your mouth finds her breast, capturing her nipple between your lips as you suck gently, your tongue teasing the sensitive skin. The soft gasp that escapes her lips is like music, her body jerking slightly at the sensation before she steadies herself, one hand coming up to thread through your hair.

Her fingers tighten in your hair as you continue to kiss and nip at her breast, your tongue circling her nipple before you gently bite down, just enough to make her gasp again. Her breath is shaky, her chest rising and falling rapidly as she tries to keep control, but you can feel her surrendering to the pleasure, her body arching toward you, her grip in your hair tightening.

“Th-this was meant to be for y-you,” she stutters, her voice breathless, shaky, as if she’s trying to remind you that she and Remy had planned to take you apart, not the other way around. But even as she speaks, her body betrays her, her hips shifting toward you, her breath coming out in short, ragged gasps as you continue to work her over with your mouth.

You pull away just enough to look up at her, your hand sliding down her stomach, tracing the waistband of her panties. “This is what I want,” you say simply, your voice soft but firm, your eyes locked on hers as you press a kiss just below her bellybutton. The softness of your voice contrasts with the intensity of the moment, but it’s true. Right now, this is what you want—her, trembling under your touch, gasping your name as you take control, as you give her back all the pleasure she had been so intent on giving you.

Anna moans softly as your lips move lower, her hips jerking slightly as you press another kiss just above the line of her panties. The sound of her pleasure, the way her breath catches in her throat, only spurs you on, makes the heat inside you burn even hotter.

Her hands are still in your hair, her grip tightening as you hook your fingers into the waistband of her panties, slowly, deliberately, pulling them down her hips. The fabric slides down her thighs, catching on her skin before finally pooling at her feet, leaving her completely bare before you. The sight of her like this—exposed, vulnerable, just as needy as you—makes your breath catch.

You press another kiss to her stomach, then lower, your lips brushing the sensitive skin between her thighs, tasting the heat of her arousal. Anna’s moan is louder this time, her body trembling as you begin to explore her with your mouth, your tongue tracing the soft, delicate folds of her skin.

“God,” she gasps, her voice shaky, breathless, as her hips press forward, seeking more of your touch. “I wasn’t… I wasn’t ready for this.”

But you were. You had been waiting for this, for her, for the chance to turn the tables, to give her everything she had been so eager to give you. And as you felt her body respond to your touch, as her breath hitched and her moans grew louder, you knew that this was exactly what she needed, even if she hadn’t known it herself.

Behind you, you could feel Remy’s gaze still on you, his presence a constant reminder of the heat and tension building between the three of you. But for now, your focus was entirely on Anna—on the way her body trembled under your touch, on the gasps and moans that spilled from her lips, on the way her hips moved in time with your tongue, desperate for more.

And as you knelt before her, your mouth working her over, your hands gripping her hips to steady her trembling body, you knew that this moment—this—was the culmination of everything you had all wanted for so long. The tension, the desire, the need—it was all coming to a head, and you were right at the center of it, guiding her toward the release she so desperately craved.

Anna’s moans grew louder, her breath coming in short, shallow gasps as she neared the edge, her hands gripping your hair tightly as her body tensed. You could feel her trembling beneath you, could feel the way her thighs quivered as the pleasure built higher and higher.

And when she finally came apart, her orgasm crashing over her in a wave of pleasure, her body shuddering violently beneath your touch, you were there to catch her, to hold her, to guide her through every second of it.

You didn’t stop, didn’t let up, not until every last tremor had passed through her body, not until she was completely spent, her breath coming in ragged, uneven gasps as she slumped against you, her body trembling with the aftershocks of her release.

As Anna clung to you, her body trembling, her fingers still tangled in your hair, you could feel the heat of her breath against your skin, each exhale deep and heavy. Her chest rose and fell rapidly, the aftershocks of her release making her body shudder in your arms. And in that moment, everything else faded away. It was just you and her, the weight of her pleasure still thick in the air, and the realization hit you with a kind of quiet certainty.

You heard Remy behind you, his voice a low murmur in French. The sound was like velvet, smooth and rich, wrapping around you in the dim light of the room. You couldn’t make out the exact words, but the tone was unmistakable: dark, possessive, filled with the same hunger that had been building since the moment this all began. His voice sent a shiver down your spine, the air between you all shifting once again, the tension rising to the surface like waves crashing against the shore.

Before you could even turn to look at him, Remy appeared beside you, his movements fluid and confident, like he was stepping into a role he had been waiting to play. His hand slid into Anna’s hair, his fingers curling around the back of her head with a kind of gentle authority that made your breath catch. There was something primal in the way he held her, something that made the air between you all feel thick and charged.

Without a word, he tilted her head back, lowering his face until his lips hovered just above hers. You could feel the heat radiating off them, could practically taste the anticipation in the air as you watched. And then, with a deliberate slowness, Remy closed the distance, his mouth claiming hers in a kiss that was as intense as it was tender. His lips moved against hers with a kind of practiced ease, his tongue parting her lips, slipping inside to taste her with a hunger that made your pulse quicken.

You couldn’t tear your eyes away from them—the way Anna melted into his touch, the way her body relaxed against his, still trembling from the release you had given her. The sight of them together, the way they moved in perfect sync, was intoxicating, pulling you in even deeper into the web of desire that had ensnared you all. It wasn’t just about touch anymore; it was about trust, about giving in to something bigger than yourselves, something raw and unspoken.

Slowly, you stood up, your legs still a bit shaky, your body still humming with the remnants of the pleasure you’d felt in Anna’s release. You wiped your mouth with the back of your hand, feeling the slickness of her arousal still on your lips, but before you could fully clear the evidence of what had just transpired, Remy’s eyes caught you.

He pulled back from Anna for just a moment, his gaze flickering to you, dark and heavy with intent. His lips were still glistening from their kiss, his breath ragged, voice thick with arousal as he spoke. “Nah uh,” he mumbled, his accent rough and low, the command in his voice unmistakable.

Before you could respond, before you could even think, Remy was on you. His hands moved with a kind of urgency as he cupped your face, his calloused fingers pressing into your skin just enough to ground you in the moment. Without hesitation, he brought his mouth to yours, his lips crashing into you with a force that took your breath away. His kiss was nothing like Anna’s—it was harder, more demanding, filled with a different kind of hunger, one that made your body burn with need all over again.

The taste of Anna was still on your lips, and Remy seemed to savor it, his tongue sweeping into your mouth, claiming you with a possessiveness that sent a wave of heat straight through your core. He kissed you like he needed you, like he couldn’t get enough, and you couldn’t help but respond, your hands instinctively reaching for him, clutching at the fabric of his shirt as you kissed him back with equal fervor.

His kiss was consuming, his lips moving against yours in a rhythm that made your knees weak. You could feel the raw power behind every movement, the way his body pressed into yours, the way his tongue explored every inch of your mouth, tasting, claiming. It was overwhelming, but in the best possible way, like he was pulling you into him, making you a part of the heat and desire that pulsed between the three of you.

And through it all, you were keenly aware of Anna, still so close, still watching. Her breath was heavy, her eyes dark with lust as she observed the way you and Remy moved together. The dynamic shifted again, the lines between who was leading and who was following blurring with every touch, every kiss. It was fluid, seamless, the three of you moving together like you had been doing this for years, like you had been waiting for this exact moment to unfold.

Remy’s hands roamed down your body, his touch firm and insistent as he explored every inch of skin he could reach. His fingers brushed over the curves of your waist, the swell of your hips, and you could feel the strength in his grip, the way his hands seemed to fit perfectly against your body. Every touch, every kiss, every breath was like fuel to the fire that was burning between you all, the tension that had been building for so long finally reaching its peak.

When Remy finally pulled back, his forehead resting against yours, both of you breathing hard, you could feel the heat radiating off him, could hear the low, ragged sounds of his breath mixing with yours. His lips were still close, so close that you could feel the warmth of his breath against your mouth, and for a moment, the world seemed to stand still, the air between you all thick with anticipation, with the promise of what was to come.

"Good girl," Remy whispered, his voice low and rough, his thumb brushing over your bottom lip, tracing the outline of where his mouth had just been. The words sent a shiver down your spine, the praise making your skin tingle with a fresh wave of desire.

Anna’s hand slid up your back, her touch gentle but firm as she pulled you closer to her once again. Her lips found your ear, her breath hot as she whispered, “He’s right, you know. You taste so damn good.”

Remy’s grip is firm but steady as he leads you back to the couch, his hand resting on the small of your back, guiding you with a quiet authority that leaves your body humming in anticipation. Every step feels deliberate, each moment stretching out, thick with tension and desire.

When you reach the couch, he positions you carefully, pressing your back to his broad chest as he bends you over the arm. The smooth fabric of the couch brushes against your skin, cool in contrast to the heat radiating from your body. Your breath quickens, and you can feel the way your heart pounds in your chest, each beat syncing with the growing anticipation of what’s to come.

Behind you, Remy’s body is a wall of warmth, his presence overwhelming, grounding. His hands run up and down your back, slow and deliberate, like he’s savoring the feel of your skin beneath his palms. The sensation is soothing, but every touch sends a ripple of electricity through you, making your body buzz with need. You can feel him—all of him—pressing against you, his length hard and insistent, sliding between your wet folds as he teases you, not quite entering, but close enough to make your breath catch.

Your hips instinctively push back toward him, seeking more, your body aching for him to finally fill the space that’s been building inside you. But Remy is in no rush. His hands continue their slow exploration of your body, his fingers tracing the curve of your waist, the dip of your spine, before coming to rest on your hips. His touch is possessive, confident, holding you in place as he presses his cock against your entrance, teasing you with just the tip.

Your heart races. The anticipation is almost unbearable, your body trembling as you wait for him to give you what you need. The room feels hot, the air between the three of you thick with desire, every breath you take filled with the scent of sex and heat and skin. You know, without a doubt, that this is only the beginning. The three of you are tangled together now, your bodies and desires intertwined in a way that feels both inevitable and electric. And there’s no telling where this night will take you, how far you’ll go, how much more you’ll give.

But one thing is certain: you are ready. Ready for whatever they want, whatever they need. Ready to surrender yourself to this moment, to lose yourself in the heat, the intensity, the connection that pulses between you all. You’ve given to them already, but now you’re ready to give more—everything—to let them take you to the edge and beyond, to feel every ounce of pleasure they can draw from your body.

And then, finally, it happens.

The stretch is immediate, sudden, and oh-so-intense as Remy pushes his cock into you, filling you in a way that makes your breath catch in your throat. You gasp, your fingers gripping the couch for support as your body adjusts to the sensation. His length fills you completely, stretching you in a way that toes the line between pleasure and pain, but it’s the kind of pain that makes your body burn with more need, more desire. The kind of pain that makes your toes curl and your back arch, your body begging for more.

For a moment, Remy pauses, his hands tightening on your hips as he gives you time to adjust. His breath is hot against your neck, his chest pressed against your back, and for a second, the world feels like it’s standing still. All you can feel is the weight of him inside you, the way he stretches you so perfectly, the way your body clenches around him, trying to accommodate the fullness.

You breathe deeply, your body trembling, but when you nod, silently giving him permission to continue, Remy doesn’t hesitate. He pulls out almost completely, leaving you achingly empty for just a moment before thrusting back in, filling you all over again with a slow, deliberate stroke that makes your entire body shudder. The sensation is overwhelming—too much and not enough all at once—and a low moan slips from your lips as he sets a rhythm, each thrust deeper and harder than the last.

Remy’s grip on your hips is like iron, his fingers digging into your skin as he drives into you, his movements growing more intense, more urgent with every passing second. You can feel the power in his thrusts, the way his body moves against yours, every inch of him claiming you, owning you in a way that makes your pulse race and your body tremble. It’s raw, primal, and you can’t help but push back against him, meeting his rhythm, your body begging for more.

And then, just when you think you can’t take any more, Anna’s hand appears, sliding between your legs, her fingers finding your clit with practiced ease. She knows exactly what you need, exactly where to touch, and the moment her fingers start circling your swollen nub, your body jolts with a fresh wave of pleasure.

The combination of sensations is almost too much to process—Remy’s cock thrusting deep inside you, filling you completely, and Anna’s fingers working your clit in perfect time with his movements. It’s overwhelming, the pleasure building so fast, so intensely, that you can barely catch your breath. Every nerve in your body is alive, every inch of your skin tingling as you’re caught between the two of them, your body theirs to control, to pleasure, to take.

Anna’s fingers move faster, stroking your clit in tight circles, each touch sending a bolt of heat straight through you. Your breath comes in shallow gasps, your body shaking with the force of the pleasure that’s building inside you. You can feel the edge approaching, feel the orgasm coiling tighter and tighter in your belly, and you know it won’t be long before you completely unravel.

Remy’s pace quickens, his thrusts growing harder, deeper, more insistent as he feels your body responding, your walls clenching around him, pulling him in deeper. His breath is ragged, his hands gripping your hips even tighter, and you can hear the low, guttural sounds he makes, the same need that’s gripping you reflected in every movement of his body.

The pleasure builds to an unbearable peak, and you can feel yourself teetering on the edge, your body trembling, muscles tightening in anticipation of the release that's about to hit you like a storm. It’s too much—far too much—and yet you crave every second of it, your body begging for more even as it spirals out of control.

With one final stroke of Anna’s fingers, circling your clit with expert precision, and one last, deep, punishing thrust from Remy, your body is finally pushed over the edge. The orgasm crashes into you like a tidal wave, consuming every part of you, leaving no room for thought or breath—just pure, unfiltered pleasure. It tears through you in relentless waves, your whole body shaking uncontrollably as the intensity of it blindsides you, leaving you breathless, gasping for air.

A strangled cry escapes your lips, raw and desperate, as your fingers dig into the couch beneath you, seeking something—anything—to ground yourself as the pleasure rips you apart. Your body clenches around Remy, pulling him in deeper, locking him inside you as your muscles spasm, every nerve alight with sensation. You ride the wave, letting it take you, your mind blank, lost in the overwhelming ecstasy that surges through every inch of your body.

But they don’t stop.

Remy’s thrusts continue, his cock still driving into you with slow, deliberate strokes, drawing out every last ounce of pleasure from your body. Each movement feels like it’s too much, like your body is going to shatter under the pressure, but you can’t bring yourself to ask him to stop. You don’t want him to stop. Every thrust, every stroke of Anna’s fingers on your clit, feels like it’s keeping you suspended in that perfect, dizzying space between pleasure and pain, between surrender and bliss.

Anna’s fingers don’t falter, their rhythm perfectly in sync with Remy’s, coaxing more moans from your throat, more tremors from your shaking body. It feels like you’re coming apart at the seams, like your body is unraveling, piece by piece, under their touch. The pleasure is too intense, too all-consuming, but you don’t care. You want to stay in this moment forever, trapped in the heat, the intensity, the overwhelming sensation of being completely and utterly theirs.

Your breath comes in ragged, shallow gasps, your body trembling violently with every aftershock as the pleasure continues to roll through you. It feels endless, like you're caught in a loop of sensation that won’t let you go, and you can’t help but surrender to it, to them. You’re theirs—completely theirs—and you never want it to end.

And then, in the midst of your own release, you feel Remy start to lose control.

You can feel the way his rhythm falters, his thrusts becoming more erratic, more desperate. His breath comes in rough, uneven pants behind you, each exhale hot against your skin as he drives into you with one final, forceful thrust. His forehead presses against your back, his body trembling as he reaches his own climax. You can feel the way his fingers tighten on your hips, his grip almost bruising, pulling you back into him as he shudders against you, filling you completely.

The sound of his release is a low, guttural groan, vibrating through his chest and into your skin, and the sensation of him coming undone inside you sends another ripple of pleasure through your already overwhelmed body. You can feel the way his body tenses, the way every muscle in him seems to lock up as he rides out his own orgasm, his breath ragged, his hands gripping you with a possessiveness that makes your heart race all over again.

For a brief moment, the world feels like it’s spinning, the intensity of everything crashing into you at once—the feel of him inside you, the weight of his body pressing you down, the way your muscles still quiver from the aftershocks of your release. It’s almost too much.

But then, just as you start to catch your breath, you feel Anna’s hand, gentle but firm, sliding up the side of your face. She’s still there, still watching, still a part of this moment. Her fingers curl under your chin, tilting your head up gently, and before you can even process the movement, her lips are on yours.

The kiss is deep, consuming, her mouth moving against yours with a hunger that takes your breath away all over again. Her fingers hold your face in place, her thumb brushing over your cheek as she claims your mouth with a kind of possessive tenderness that makes your head spin. The taste of her is sweet and intoxicating, her tongue slipping between your lips, exploring, tasting, as if she’s trying to pull every last bit of sensation from you.

You lean into her, your body still trembling, still sensitive, but you can’t help but respond to the kiss, your hands reaching up to tangle in her hair as you kiss her back with just as much fervor. Her mouth is soft but demanding, her tongue sliding against yours in a way that makes your body hum with a fresh wave of desire, even though you’re already spent, your muscles aching from the intensity of it all.

You realize, in this moment of trembling stillness, that whatever is unfolding between the three of you is only just beginning. It’s a revelation that strikes you like a gentle wave, slowly but surely filling all the empty spaces inside you with a quiet, undeniable certainty. This connection, this intensity, this *thing* that has drawn the three of you together—it’s more than just physical. It’s more than the heat of the moment, more than the pleasure that has left your body humming and spent. It’s something deeper, something unspoken but powerful, and it’s pulling you all into its orbit, entwining your lives in a way you hadn’t anticipated.

The kiss you share with Anna feels like another kind of release—different from the one that had just rocked your body moments ago, but just as profound. It’s not about pleasure now, not about the raw physicality that had consumed you all. This kiss is softer, more intimate, a quiet tether that grounds you, pulling you back from the dizzying heights of your climax and gently easing you into something more tender. Yet, at the same time, it’s feeding the connection between the three of you, binding you together in a way that feels almost sacred.

You can still feel Remy behind you, his presence a comforting weight, his chest pressed against your back, his breath warm on your skin. He’s still there, still with you, even though your focus in this moment has shifted entirely to Anna. You feel the steady rise and fall of his breath, the subtle press of his body against yours, a reminder of his role in this strange and beautiful dance you’ve entered together.

But right now, it’s Anna who holds your attention. Her lips move against yours with a tenderness that makes your heart ache in the best way. Her kiss is soft, almost reverent, her fingers cradling your face with a gentle care that contrasts with the intensity of everything that’s just happened. It’s as though she’s trying to tell you something with this kiss, something she can’t quite put into words—something that speaks of trust, of vulnerability, of a shared understanding that goes far beyond the physical.

When she finally pulls back, her lips still hovering just above yours, you’re left breathless. Your body is still trembling, your mind spinning from the aftershocks of pleasure and the weight of this new, unspoken realization. Her breath mingles with your own, the space between you charged with something electric, something alive. You can feel it thrumming in the air, in the way your bodies are still so close, the heat of the moment lingering in the spaces between your skin.

Anna’s eyes meet yours, and it’s like the world narrows down to just the two of you in that instant. Her gaze is dark, intense, filled with something you can’t quite name, but it makes your heart race all over again. There’s a softness in her eyes, a vulnerability that you hadn’t seen before, and it makes the moment feel even more intimate. There’s a promise in her gaze, one that speaks of more than just the physical connection you’ve shared. It speaks of something deeper, something that’s only just beginning to take shape between the three of you.

You don’t need words to understand what she’s telling you with that look. It’s a quiet understanding, a shared recognition that this—this—isn’t just a fleeting moment. It’s the start of something new, something that will change the dynamic between you all in ways none of you can fully predict. There’s a weight to it, but it’s not heavy. It’s exciting, full of possibility, full of the unknown.

Remy’s hands are still on your hips, steady, grounding, and you can feel the way his fingers tighten slightly, as if reminding you that he’s still here, still part of this. You tilt your head just enough to glance back at him, and when your eyes meet, you see the same understanding reflected in his gaze. There’s no hesitation there, no uncertainty. If anything, there’s a quiet confidence in the way he looks at you, like he’s known all along that this was where the three of you were headed, even if you hadn’t fully realized it until now.

The air between the three of you feels different now, thicker with meaning, with shared understanding. The heat of the moment is still there, simmering just beneath the surface, but it’s been joined by something else. Something that feels stronger, more enduring.

Anna leans in again, pressing her forehead to yours, her breath still mingling with yours in the small space between you. “I promise you this isn’t just for tonight,” she whispers, her voice soft but filled with certainty. It’s not a question—it’s a statement, a truth that you can feel settling deep in your bones. And you know, without a doubt, that she’s right.

You nod, the movement small but enough to convey that you understand, that you feel it too. Your body is still thrumming with the remnants of pleasure, still sensitive, still aware of every touch, every breath, but there’s a new kind of energy pulsing through you now. One that’s not just about what you’ve already shared, but about what’s yet to come.

Remy shifts behind you, his hands sliding up your sides in a slow, deliberate motion that sends a shiver down your spine. His touch is gentle now, more exploratory, as if he’s savoring the moment, taking in the weight of this new dynamic. You feel his lips brush the back of your neck, a soft, lingering kiss that makes your skin tingle. It’s not demanding, not insistent—it’s a promise, just like Anna’s kiss, just like the look in both their eyes.

The three of you are tangled together now, in more ways than just the physical, and you can feel the weight of that connection settling around you like a blanket, warm and comforting. There’s no rush, no urgency to move forward. Only the quiet understanding that whatever comes next, you’ll face it together.

And as you stand there, surrounded by their warmth, their presence, you realize that you’re not just ready—you’re eager for whatever the future holds. Because this—this—isn’t just the end of one night. It’s the beginning of something new, something deeper, something that will continue to grow and evolve between the three of you.

It’s only the beginning, and already, it feels like everything you’ve ever wanted.

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