Chapter Text
When it came to K-pop idols, being out of the country wasn’t exactly unusual. Overseas promotion, guest appearances on international shows, and global tour stops were practically part of the job description. Fans had grown used to seeing their favorite idols jet-setting from Seoul to Tokyo, Paris to LA, in a blur of tight schedules and glowing Instagram updates.
But what was unusual—especially for a group in the middle of a comeback—was for one of its members to be abroad while the rest stayed behind, neck-deep in local promotions. That kind of scheduling conflict wasn’t typical, even in an industry as fast-paced and demanding as K-pop.
Then again, HUNTR/X wasn’t just any group.
As the most popular girl group in Korea, they were being offered opportunities that most other groups couldn’t even fantasize about. And with that kind of fame came impossible choices. In this case, it meant Zoey had flown to California for a solo cover magazine shoot—one of those rare, career-defining features—while Mira and Rumi had stayed behind in Seoul, juggling music show appearances, interviews, and fan events without her.
It also meant that, ever since Zoey boarded that plane, Mira and Rumi had ended up in bed together every night—not out of habit or convenience, but because it was the only way they could dull the ache of missing her. Her absence left a quiet emptiness between them, one that only their shared closeness could momentarily soothe.
Mira’s hips bucked with relentless force, the strap-on pressing firmly into Rumi’s slick, sensitive folds as she pounded into the half-demon’s tight pussy from behind. The friction was sharp and hot, every thrust a frantic claim that sent a shiver of fire coursing through them both. Rumi’s muffled moans were swallowed by the plush pillow beneath her flushed face, but Mira caught every desperate sound, every breath ragged with need, echoing softly in the quiet room as she fucked her into the mattress.
“Fuck, I can’t believe you’re still this tight,” Mira growled, her fingers curling into the soft curve of Rumi’s slim waist, holding her close with fierce, unyielding strength. Her grip was possessive, anchoring them together as her pace quickened, hips snapping forward in urgent, heated thrusts.
Rumi whimpered low and raw, digging into the cool sheets beneath her, leaving faint scratches as her body tensed and writhed beneath Mira’s touch. Mira’s other hand slid up with deliberate slowness, fingers curling around the delicate swell of Rumi’s throat. The pressure was steady but controlled—just enough to press against the pulse pounding wildly beneath her skin, sending a rush of heightened sensation coursing through the girl’s body.
“Fuck,” Rumi groaned, eyes squeezed tight as if to hold herself together against the overwhelming tide of pleasure. Her lips parted in a silent cry, breath hitching in ragged bursts, fingers tightening their desperate grip on the sheets. The heat between them thickened, and Rumi’s head tilted back slightly, her gaze lost in the haze of pleasure as Mira’s relentless thrusts drove deeper, claiming every inch of her tight pussy.
“Mira…” she breathed, voice trembling and raw, barely more than a whisper. “Please…”
The taller girl’s lips curled into a slow, wicked smile as she let go of the half-demon’s throat and tangled her fingers in Rumi’s thick, purple hair, pulling her head back just enough to bare the delicate curve of her throat. The sudden release of Rumi’s muffled moans spilled into the room—raw, unguarded, and trembling with need. Mira’s grip was firm but teasing, a sharp contrast to the softness of Rumi’s skin beneath her touch, holding her captive in the heat of the moment.
“You really are desperate, aren’t you?” Mira huffed with exertion, her voice thick with amusement and something darker, teasing. “I wonder what Zoey would think if she saw you like this—helpless, begging…”
The name struck a chord deep inside Rumi, a sudden pulse of wetness that shot straight into her core, making her arch her back further, pressing herself harder into Mira’s relentless thrusts. The friction burned deliciously, the tightness around the strap-on like fire and silk intertwined, overwhelming her senses. Her breath hitched, ragged and sharp, as the waves of pleasure and vulnerability crashed together.
“Oh…” Mira murmured, a teasing smile curling at the corner of her mouth as she felt her rhythm falter for a brief, tantalizing moment, caught off guard by the sudden twitching beneath her. Her hands gripped Rum’s hips tighter, steadying both of them against the surge of heat that rolled between them. “You liked that, didn’t you?"
The small, involuntary shiver that rippled through Rumi’s body spoke volumes, igniting a fresh spark of hunger in Mira’s veins as she pressed forward again, slow and deliberate, savoring the growing tension crackling in the air.
“Don’t…” Rumi gasped, her voice breaking, the word swallowed by a sharp moan when the strap struck a spot that made her see stars. Her fingers curled into the crisp sheets beneath her, nails scraping faint lines as she fought to hold herself steady. “Fuck…don’t tease me.”
Mira’s low, throaty chuckle reverberated against Rumi’s flushed skin, her hips driving forward with unyielding power. Each thrust was measured but fierce, pounding into the wet, slick what that clenched and pulsed around her, muscles tightening and spasming with every movement. The scent of sex and their mingled sweat filled the air, thick and intoxicating, wrapping them both in the heavy intimacy of the moment. Mira’s own breath grew ragged, desire blooming hotter with every shuddering response from the girl beneath her.
“Come on, Rumi,” Mira whispered, her voice low and sultry, thick with teasing dominance. Her words hung heavy in the charged air between them, sparking a fire beneath Rumi’s skin. “Don’t you want to show off how well you can take this cock? I bet Zoey would love to see you like this—completely undone, a whimpering mess.”
Rumi bit her trembling lip, fighting to hold back the moans that threatened to escape. The thought of Zoey watching—eyes dark with desire, witnessing her like this—sent a wild, hot pulse racing through her veins, setting her nerves ablaze. It was delicious torment, the image both humiliating and intoxicating.
Mira’s grin deepened, sharp and wicked. With a sudden, fierce snap of her hips, her pelvis slammed against Rumi’s ass, the sharp smack echoing through the quiet room. “Bet you wish Zoey was here, huh?” she breathed, voice thick with promise and challenge. “To touch you, to taste you…maybe sit on your face, or fill your mouth with her own cock?” She released her hold on Rumi’s hair in a rough, deliberate motion, fingers sliding down to curl firmly around the half-demon’s throat again. The pressure was just enough to take her breath away, fingers tightening to trace the rapid pulse beneath her skin. “Maybe she’d even let you fuck her, too. Hm?”
“Mira…” Rumi choked out, eyes wide and glossy with need, pupils dilated as waves of pleasure and desperation crashed through her. Her body writhed beneath Mira’s weight, desperate to escape the overwhelming heat that threatened to consume her completely. But Mira’s hand was ironclad, gripping Rumi’s waist with unyielding strength, anchoring her in place.
“Fuck—” Rumi moaned, her body trembling violently with every forceful thrust. Mira’s relentless pace drove deeper, the slick heat of her pussy clenching around the strap-on like a vice, sending shocks of pleasure spiraling through both of them.
“God, I wish Zoey were here,” Mira muttered under her breath, her voice husky with heat. She leaned down, chest brushing against Rumi’s arched back, lips grazing the shell of the half-demon’s ear. “Do you want to see her?” she whispered, her hot breath against Rumi’s skin. “Or maybe…talk to her?”
Rumi’s eyes flew open, wide and shining with confusion and hunger. Her breath hitched in shallow gasps, and she turned her head slightly, struggling to look back at Mira. Her throat was flushed where Mira’s hand had been moments ago, and her lips parted, trembling as she tried to speak. “I…what…?” she managed, voice barely a whisper, dazed and dizzy from the mixture of arousal and adrenaline coursing through her.
“I mean…” Mira purred, tilting her head, her tone feather-light with feigned innocence as she pulled back just enough to meet Rumi’s gaze. “If you really want to…” She bit her lower lip, eyes flicking over Rumi’s flushed, desperate expression. “You can use my laptop. Call her. Video. I’m sure she’d love to watch while I fuck you. See how well you take my cock for her.”
The words hadn’t even settled in the air before Rumi nodded—frantic, breathless, her pupils blown wide with desperation. “Yes,” she gasped, her body trembling beneath Mira’s. “Please. Please. I want her to see.”
A slow, wicked smile spread across Mira’s face. She rolled her hips one last time—just enough to draw another shaky moan from Rumi—before stilling. Her hand left Rumi’s waist only long enough to reach for the laptop resting on the bedside table. She pulled it onto the bed, fingers moving quickly as she logged in. The screen glowed in the dim room, casting a soft light across the sheen of sweat glistening on both their skin.
Rumi’s body trembled, her breath shaking as she felt the bed shift beneath her. She couldn’t take her eyes off Mira’s silhouette, her strong shoulders, her steady hands as they moved with calculated ease.
“She’s online,” Mira said, her voice tinged with delight. “Perfect timing.” She propped the laptop open at the edge of the mattress, angling the screen with precision. The camera framed the scene in full view—Rumi on all fours, flushed and trembling, Mira poised behind her, one hand resting firmly on her ass.
“There,” Mira said with a satisfied hum, settling back behind Rumi. She ran her palm slowly over the curve of the girl’s back, down to her waist, where her grip tightened once more. “Now…be a good girl for her.”
Rumi’s breath hitched. Her pulse was a drumbeat in her throat, loud and insistent. Every inch of her skin buzzed under Mira’s touch—controlled, precise, commanding.
Mira leaned in, her lips brushing the shell of Rumi’s ear, just enough to send a shiver coursing down her spine.
“You don’t come until I say so,” she whispered, her voice low and smooth, each word a slow drag of silk over bare skin. It was a command wrapped in velvet, sweet on the surface but edged with steel. “Understand?”
Rumi shivered beneath her, every nerve alight. “Yes,” she breathed, barely audible.
Mira’s fingers slid up, wrapping firmly around Rumi’s throat once again—not tight, just enough to remind her who was in control. “Good girl,” she murmured, a smirk tugging at the corners of her mouth. “Because if you slip…I will make you pay for it.”
The thrill of the threat made Rumi’s eyes flutter closed, her body trembling as she nodded, heart pounding loud in her ears.
Then, with a deliberate calm, Mira reached out and pressed the call button.
The screen blinked.
Within seconds, Zoey’s face appeared, lit softly by a lamp in what looked like a hotel room. She smiled instantly—then froze. Her eyes widened, smiling fading as her gaze swept over the scene in front of her.
“H—Hello?” Zoey stammered, eyebrows lifting in sudden shock. “Rumi…Mira…what…?”
Mira tilted her head, her expression utterly composed. Her hands rested possessively on Rumi’s waist, fingers pressing into the soft curve of her skin as she rocked her hips in a slow, deliberate rhythm. The movement was unhurried but full of purpose—each roll of her hips drawing a whimper from Rumi, whose body tensed and softened in waves beneath her. “Hey, Zozo,” she said, her tone light, almost playful. “How’s California treating you?”
Zoey blinked, clearly trying to process the image before her. Her mouth opened, then closed again. “Uh…it’s fine,” she said finally, voice barely steady as her eyes flicked between them. “I…wasn’t expecting…this.”
Mira’s smile widened, slow and knowing. “Good,” she said, taking a finger to trace a line across the arch of the half-demon’s back. “We thought we’d give you something to think about later.”
Rumi’s moans spilled freely from her lips, raw and unfilitered, despite her desperate attempt to bite down and stifle them. The heat pooling deep inside her stretched tight, each movement of Mira’s hips sending sharp, delicious waves rippling through her core. Her body trembled, hips bucking instinctively, trying to draw in more of the strap that filled her, chasing that exquisite edge where pleasure and ache blurred.
Her breath came in ragged gasps, a soft, frantic melody of need, and when she caught sight of Zoey’s bewildered expression on the screen, hot electricity sparked in her chest. The thrill of being watched, of being exposed and yet protected in this intimate bubble, ignited a rush of heat beneath her skin. Her eyes fluttered open, glazed with pleasure and something wild, as she tried to focus on the camera, on Zoey’s presence.
“M—Mira!” Rumi’s voice cracked, the sound a raw mix of desperation and delight as her black arched further, muscles tightening and releasing spasms of bliss. Her hands clutched the cool sheets beneath her, fingers curling and digging in as if to anchor herself in reality while her body floated on the edge of euphoria.
Mira’s hands pressed firmly on Rumi’s hip, fingers digging into the soft flesh with a possessive squeeze that grounded them both. “Rumi,” Mira murmured, voice low but teasing. “It’s rude to ignore people.” Her hips shifted with a deliberate slowness, every controlled thrust pushing deeper, sliding in and out of her cunt with ease and a rhythm that spoke of dominance. “Say hi to Zoey. Tell her how much you missed her.”
Rumi’s breath hitched, her eyes locking onto the camera with a newfound focus, shimmering with lust and vulnerability. “Zoey,” she whispered, voice trembling as each word escaped in ragged bursts between gasps. “I—I…missed…you.” Her body quivered, hips trembling under the force of Mira’s commanding pace. The strap pressed into a particularly sensitive spot, eliciting a guttural groan that slipped from her lips. “So much…”
Mira’s lips curved into a slow, satisfied smirk. She increased the intensity, snapping her hips forward sharply, the sound of flesh meeting flesh filling the room with a raw, brutal rhythm. “She’s been a very good girl for me, Zoey.” Mira purred, eyes glinting with dark amusement as she met the camera’s gaze directly. “We can’t wait for you to come home. But for now…” Her voice dropped to a seductive whisper, warm breath ghosting over the half-demon’s ear as her hand slid to trace the curve of the girl’s thigh, steadying her trembling body. “…Rumi will just have to do with my dick and your voice.”
Rumi whimpered softly at first, then her sounds grew louder—raw, desperate, filled with trembling need—as Mira’s hips plowed relentlessly into her. Each powerful thrust sent a cascade of fire radiating through her core, sparking tiny jolts of pleasure that spread in waves down her spine and through her limbs. Her body moved instinctively, bucking backwards with every push, trying to coax more from Mira’s steady rhythm, aching to ride the edge of release. Her fingers curled into the soft cotton of the sheets, digging in as if to hold herself steady, but her muscles betrayed her, trembling with every motion. Her mouth hung open, breath ragged and quick, the hot air escaping in shaky gasps that mingled with the wet, rhythmic sounds filling the room.
“God…I…Zoey—” she gasped, eyes wide and fixated on the glint of the camera lens, shining faintly like a beacon in the dim light. The vulnerability in her voice cut through the haze of pleasure, a fragile plea carried on shaky breaths. “Please—”
Mira’s voice sliced through the charged silence, smooth and slow like velvet, laced with amusement and authority. Her hands tightened, possibly on Rumi’s waist, thumbs tracing deliberate, teasing circles over the warm skin. Her rhythm slowed deliberately, hips rolling in deep, molten-slow strokes that made Rum sob softly into the sheets. She leaned into the moment, savoring the tension. “What is it, Rumi?” she murmured, voice deepening with a dark, playful edge. “What do you want Zoey to do for you?”
Rumi’s lips parted and trembled, words caught somewhere between desire and her breath. Instead, she released a long, shuddering moan, eyes fluttering closed as the overwhelming need tightened its grip on her. Her back arched, muscles taut as she pushed hard against the strap, her body trembling with a mix of aching want and exquisite torment. The faint glow of her markings etched across her back pulsed gently, bathing her skin in a soft iridescent light that seemed to pulse in time with her racing heartbeat. When her eyes snapped open, they shone fiercely—burning gold, alive with urgent need—as she locked her gaze once more on the camera.
“Zoey…please,” she breathed, voice thick with emotion and raw longing, hips moving frantically in desperate response, grinding against the strap with fevered urgency. “I need…I need—”
The rest was lost in a choked cry as Mira picked up the pace again, fast and unrelenting now, her hips slamming into her tight, trembling heat with forceful precision that had Rumi’s whole body shaking beneath her. The sound of skin meeting skin, the wet heat between them, the ragged gasps—it all filled the space like a song only their bodies understood.
“Zoey—” Rumi cried out again, hips stuttering as she neared the edge. Her voice was broken, pleading as her gaze locked again with the camera. “I need you…Please, Zoey. I need you to fuck me—”
Zoey’s breath hitched audibly, her fingers curling tightly around the edge of her seat as her eyes locked on the screen, drinking in every flicker of movement. Her pulse thundered in her ears, each shallow breath betraying the arousal building inside her. She wasn’t just watching—she was there with them, every sharp intake of breath and whispered moan threading through her veins like electricity.
Her lips parted slightly, caught between disbelief and something more—a flicker a desire, a tremor of excitement that danced just beneath her skin. “Oh my God,” she breathed, voice low, trembling with awe and heat. “You guys are…fucking insane.”
Behind Rumi, Mira’s hips moved with deliberate, unrelenting rhythm—measured but powerful. Each thrust drove deeper, stretching and filling Rumi in a way that made her arch impossibly high, her breath coming in sharp, ragged whimpers. Mira’s hands molded the curves of Rumi’s waist, fingers digging in just enough to claim her, to anchor her in this shared moment.
Her voice slid through the air, smooth and dark like warm velvet, winding around the hot tension in the room. “Zoey,” she purred, a teasing challenge wrapped in silk, “Do you think you can make Rumi cum while I fuck her? Can you do that for me?”
Zoey swallowed hard, the weight of the question settling deep in her chest. Her gaze flickered from Mira’s steady control to the raw, vulnerable need in Rumi’s flushed face. Then, without hesitation, she nodded, breath trembling but steady, “Yeah,” she whispered with a heated determination. “Yeah, I can do that.”
There was a faint rustle, the subtle sound of denim unzipping—the intimate noise slicing through the silence like a secret shared in the dark. Zoey’s voice returned, quieter now, slightly breathless and trembling with honest vulnerability. “Mira, Rumi…I’m…I’m touching myself.”
The words sent an electric jolt spiraling through Rumi’s body. Her hips jerked upward involuntarily, desperate to meet Mira’s relentless thrusts. A shaky, breathless whine escaped her lips, raw and hungry. The combination of Mira’s firm grip, the slick, full sensation inside her, and the knowledge that Zoey was there—watching, getting off from Mira fucking her—stirred a fire deep within her.
Mira’s smile was both tender and possessive as she pressed a kiss behind Rumi’s ear, her voice dropping to a low, sultry whisper. Her hands squeezed Rumi’s waist, steadying her even as her hips picked up pace—strong, assured, unyielding.
“Good girl,” Mira whispered, her breath warm and teasing against the sensitive shell of Rumi’s ear, her voice a low, velvety command. “Let her hear you. Let her hear how much you love being fucked by my cock.”
Rumi’s back arched off the bed in a perfect, aching curve, muscles taut with desire and anticipation. Her chest rose and fell rapidly as a loud, desperate moan tore from her lips. “Fuck—Mira!” she cried, her voice trembling with pleasure as her hips bucked fiercely back against Mira’s powerful thrusts, each movement a fiery dance of hunger and surrender.
From the laptop, Zoey’s voice filtered through—soft, breathy, filled with awe and desire, wrapping around Rumi like a leash. “God, that looks so good. I can’t believe I’m not there.”
Mira groaned, a deep, primal sound vibrating through her throat. Her hips faltered for the briefest moment, then surged forward with renewed intensity—harder, faster, each thrust driving deeper into Rumi’s slick, trembling pussy. The sensation was overwhelming, waves of slick friction and fullness pulsing through Rumi’s core, igniting sparks of fire that spread through every fiber of her being.
“Fuck, Zoey…” Mira’s voice was a low growl, thick with lust and disbelief. “You’re going to make me cum from just your voice.”
Rumi’s body began to tremble uncontrollably, every muscle clenched tight as the coil of pleasure inside her wound tighter and tighter, ready to snap. Her breath hitched, uneven and ragged, eyelids fluttering as she fought to hold herself together. “Zoey…” she whimpered, voice raw and pleading, eyes shining with desperate need as they locked on the camera’s gaze. Her hips moved frantically, chasing the release she so desperately craved, keeping pace with Mira’s unyielding thrusts. “Please, don’t stop.”
The room was alive with sound—the wet slap of skin against skin, ragged gasps and moans intertwining in a symphony of raw desire. Rumi’s voice rose in a trembling crescendo, a beautiful, urgent melody of surrender and craving. The tension pulsed through the air like an electric current, binding Mira, Rumi, and Zoey together in this intimate, shared moment of fiery connection.
Zoey’s breathy moans slipped into the air like smoke, soft and aching, her fingers moving hurriedly between her thighs. The slick sound of her arousal as she touched herself—wet, eager, relentless—wove itself into the heated rhythm of the room. Her body trembled, every breath catching as if her lungs could barely keep up with the need building inside her.
“God, you two are so fucking hot,” she gasped, her voice ragged with desire, barely more than a whisper that trembled on her tongue.
Mira’s eyes flicked toward her, wild with lust, her teeth sinking into her lower lip as she drove her hips forward. Each thrust sent a sharp slap of skin-on-skin echoing through the space, her body colliding with Rumi’s in a frantic, fevered pace. Sweat glistened on her brow, her muscles taut with effort and urgency.
“Come on, Zoey,” she urged, her voice low and rough, vibrating with command. “Make her feel it. Watch how good Rumi looks when she’s falling apart.”
Rumi whimpered beneath her, fingers clawing at the sheets, her back trembling with every motion, caught on the edge of bliss. Her breath came in broken, helpless gasps, her body caught between the scorching heat behind her and the sight before her.
Zoey’s hand moved faster, her legs trembling, eyes flickering between Rumi’s flushed face and the strands of arousal connecting the half-demon and Mira as the taller girl pounded into her. “I’m—fuck—so close,” she cried, her voice cracking under the pressure of release. Her whole body quaked with the force of her nearing climax, drawn forward by the raw beauty of the two tangled bodies in front of her.
Rumi let out a raw, unfiltered moan, her voice shaking as the pressure inside her built to a breaking point. Her whole body tensed beneath Mira, hips jerking forward, desperate for the final push over the edge. “F—Fuck…Zoey!” she cried, her voice high and cracked, filled with need.
Mira’s rhythm faltered, caught in the heat of the moment, her thrusts growing uneven as her own pleasure climbed dangerously close to the edge. She leaned, breath hot against Rumi’s back, her voice a low growl. “That’s it, Zoey…don’t stop. Push her over. Show her how much you turn her on. How we turn her on.”
Zoey’s body was a live wire, trembling as her own climax threatened to shatter her. Her moans spilled out, rising in volume with every second, hands moving in a frenzy as her gaze locked onto the erotic sight in front of her—the desperate writhing of Rumi, the fierce, focused energy in Mira’s eyes.
“God—fuck!” Zoey gasped, her words barely holding together under the weight of sensation. “I’m…fuck, I—”
Rumi’s entire body stiffened, every muscle pulled taut like a bowstring, before she shattered with a cry that tore from deep inside her. “F—Fuck!” The word hit the air like thunder, her voice shaking as pleasure surged through in relentless waves. Her fingers clawed helplessly at the sheets, eyes squeezed shut, her breath stuttering through parted lips as she rode out her climax. She trembled beneath Mira, her skin slick with sweat, her heartbeat running wild in her chest.
The raw intensity of Rumi’s release—so vulnerable, so visceral—sent a jolt through Mira’s core. She was barely holding on, her thrusts faltering, chest heaving with effort. Then Zoey’s cries—sharp, desperate, beautiful—cut through the haze like a spark to dry tinder.
That was all it took.
Mira’s body locked, her hips slamming one last time before her climax ripped through her. Her breath caught in her throat, her vision blurring as pleasure crashed over her, hard and fast. She collapsed against Rumi’s trembling back, burying her face against the damp skin as she gasped for air, her pulse thundering in her ears.
Through the screen, Zoey’s cries reached a breaking point. Her back arched, her thighs trembling violently as she came, her fingers never slowing, her mouth falling open in a voiceless gasp. For a moment, she was frozen—caught in the stillness that only came at the height of release—before her body sagged into the chair, her chest rising and falling in shallow bursts.
The room was heavy with heat and breath. The scent of skin, sweat, and something deeper lingered in the still air. For a long, suspended moment, none of them moved. Just the sound of three hearts slowly finding their rhythm again.
Mira lay draped across Rumi’s back, her limbs heavy, her skin slick. She pressed a slow, open-mouth kiss to the curve of Rumi’s shoulder, tasting salt and heat. Beneath her, Rumi let out a quiet, breathless laugh—shaky and dazed.
“Holy shit…” she murmured, voice hoarse.
Zoey groaned from across the screen of the laptop, one arm flung over her eyes, her chest still rising and falling in soft, uneven waves. “Remind me to never underestimate the two of you again.”
Mira chuckled weakly, lifting her head just enough to glance over at Zoey. “Takes three, babe.”
After another long stretch of silence, broken only by the sound of their breathing, Zoey’s voice drifted through the room—low, breathy, and still laced with awe. “Holy shit,” she exhaled. “That was…fuck.”
Mira let out a soft laugh, the sound slightly hoarse. Her chest rose and fell with shallow breaths as she wiped sweat from her brow. “Yeah,” she murmured, voice heavy with exhaustion and satisfaction. “That was definitely…something.”
Slowly, she eased out of Rumi, her movements tender. Rumi whimpered faintly at the loss, her body still buzzing. Mira took the strap off and shifted to lie beside her, one arm draping loosely across her waist. The warmth between them lingered, shared and quiet.
Rumi let out a breathy moan and turned slightly, facing the glowing screen with eyes still half-lidded from the intensity of the session. Her voice was low and husky when she spoke. “Zoey,” her lips curled into a soft, grateful smile, “thank you…that was amazing.”
On the other side of the camera, Zoey flushed, the color rising to her cheeks. Her hair was mussed, her skin still flushed from release, but her eyes gleamed with affection. “Glad to be of service, Rumi,” she said gently, her voice tinged with warmth and longing. “God, I miss you guys so much.”
Mira leaned in, brushing a few damp strands of hair from Rumi’s forehead before pressing a slow, tender kiss there. “We miss you too, Zo,” she whispered. “But don’t worry—we’ll be here. Waiting.”
Zoey’s smile widened, her expression softening before a familiar playful glint sparked in her eyes. “Good,” she said, voice thick with promise. “Because when I get home…I’m going to need a lot of attention.”
Her gaze flicked between them, slow and deliberate, sending a ripple of heat back through Mria and Rumi like an aftershock.
Rumi shivered beneath the sheets, and Mira let out a low hum of anticipation. “We’ll make sure you don’t go a second without it,” the taller girl replied, her voice low and teasing.
Zoey grinned, her image flickering slightly on the screen. “Deal.”
After the intensity finally ebbed, the three of them settled into easy conversation, laughter, and quiet moments weaving between words. Zoey’s voice grew softer as the night deepened, until reluctantly, she announced it was time for bed. They wished her goodnight, their voices warm and lingering with affection. Zoey blew kisses into the camera, her smile lingering even as she ended the call and the screen went dark.
Left alone, Mira and Rumi lay side by side, the stillness around them thick with a mix of exhaustion and quiet satisfaction. The silence stretched for a moment before Mira broke it, her voice gentle but curious. “So…” she began, tilting her head to meet Rumi’s gaze. “Was that weird for you?”
Rumi shook her head slowly, a small, shy smile tugging at the corners of her lips. She reached out, fingertips tracing a tender line along Mira’s cheek. “No,” she said softly. “It was actually…really nice.” Her smile faded just slightly as her expression grew serious. “Thank you, Mira. For…that.”
Mira returned the smile, pulling Rumi closer and wrapping her arms around her like a shield. She pressed a slow, affectionate kiss to Rumi’s forehead, voice barely above a whisper. “You don't have to thank me, Ru,” she murmured. “I know you miss Zoey—a lot. And I do too.”
She pulled back just enough to meet Rumi’s eyes, her tone steady, reassuring. “But…we’ve got each other. At least until she comes home.”
Rumi nodded, nestling closer, letting her eyes flutter shut as sleep tugged at her. “Yeah,” she murmured, voice heavy with drowsiness. “We’ve got each other.”
Their breaths slowed and deepened, bodies curling into one another like puzzle pieces finally fitting. Wrapped in warm and quiet hope, they drifted into sleep—dreaming of the day their trio would be whole again.