Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

It wasn't that this couch was uncomfortable, it was perfectly fine—a nice plush leather that was worn enough to not creak—but it wasn't the couch Mira really wanted to be sitting on. If she had her way they'd have declined this interview because they'd never met this host before, the list of prohibited subjects had been growing, and they didn't know the ways he'd try and slip around their boundaries to get something newsworthy out of them. Rumi had done her research, of course she had, but it still put Mira on edge.

If it had been up to her they'd have gone straight back to the penthouse after their fan signing.

That was what she lived for. Talking to strangers exhausted her, but if they were fans? She could scrounge up the energy. There was something special about a group of kids excitedly telling her she was so cool, that they'd learned all of her choreography, that they wanted to be just like her when they grew up.

It seeped through all the scar tissue and soothed an old, angry wound deep inside of her.

These sorts of interviews though? With a live crowd? She could never shake the feeling they were going to try and trip her up, because even if they got the segment pulled there were enough people who'd seen. They always wanted to ask about the Idol Awards a few months ago—about the Takedown performance.

Mira and Zoey had watched it, eventually. They had to if they wanted to be able to provide a consistent story. They only had to watch it once for it to sear into their eyelids.

Their cover was that it was a performance stunt gone wrong, that there'd been a communication issue backstage and Rumi hadn't been expecting it. It was just luck that people didn't remember what happened at Namsan Tower clearly.

Most people bought it—even if it wasn't a particularly good cover story—but not everyone did. Someone always wanted to pry, and the sort of people who asked were the sort of people to aim the question at Rumi specifically, because “Rumi has a panic attack mid-interview” was just as good of a headline as “The truth behind Takedown”.

The host had been fine so far, but Mira was still cautious. They had to be so much more careful now.

“So!” the host said, clapping his hands together and giving them an easy smile. “Let's move on to the big question on everyone's mind.”

Mira folded her hands in her lap so she didn't crack her knuckles. She was already tired, and now she was feeling uneasy.

“What made you release Golden so early?” he asked. Mira relaxed a fraction, imperceptible to anyone but Rumi and Zoey. “I've heard rumours it wasn't a unanimous decision.”

Mira had no idea how those rumours had started. It was probably leaked from someone in the company.

Rumi smiled sheepishly; practiced, perfect. “I did accidentally release it early, but only by a day. It was so embarrassing.”

Mira watched her. They could all put on a mask—it came with the territory—but nobody could do it like Rumi did. She swapped from polite to melancholy to confident to delighted, flicking through them like a magician half way through a trick.

The second an interview took a turn she didn't like she set the bait-

Is this your card?

-let them think they'd caught her out-

No?

-fake surprise, fake shock-

Check your pocket. Is it there?

-then smile smoothly-

Thought so.

-and slip the control of the conversation from underneath them and palm it.

It was, frankly, an unreasonably attractive skill.

The only time she couldn't was when Takedown got brought up. That was when Mira and Zoey swooped in, returning the favour for years of her making interviewers back down when they struck too close to the bone.

She realised she'd been caught staring when Rumi nudged her with her knee. That was definitely another clip she was going to be seeing online later. She glanced at the host and was relieved to see he wasn't looking at her. Rumi had noticed before he did.

The host laughed good naturedly. “Happens to the best of us. It's good to know even you fall victim to things like that.”

“Oh, all the time. If I didn't have Mira and Zoey to help I'd be a wreck.” Rumi said with a giggle. Zoey joined in, while Mira gave a fond smile. That part was entirely true.

“Tell us about your comeback album. What's your favourite new track?” the host asked.

Rumi hummed. “Well, I like all of them, of course.”

“You must have a preference, though.” he said.

“Zoey's such a good lyricist, though. It's really hard to pick!” Rumi laughed.

Zoey elbowed her. “She's trying to butter me up so I stop giving her all the lines.”

The host chuckled. “Is that a bad thing?”

That was how Zoey dealt with things. If she saw criticisms for Rumi or Mira online she'd find a way to indirectly dismiss them in their next interview.

People say that Rumi steals their lines? Confirm that Zoey is the reason she tends to sing the melody.

There are comments that Mira seems mean? Talk about how much Mira loves fan interactions.

It was her own little magic trick.

“Wouldn't you all like to hear their voices more often?” Rumi asked, looking at the crowd seated on staggered levels behind the cameras. The crowd cheered in approval and Mira laughed softly.

“You're all in luck, then.” Mira said, resting her chin in her palm and crossing one leg over the other.

“Mira!” Rumi said, as if it was a surprise. It wasn't. They never brought up anything work related during an interview without a discussion first. Or, Rumi and Mira didn’t. Zoey was so known for slipping up—she just got too adorably excited to talk about what she'd written—that every so often Rumi or Mira would ‘accidentally’ reveal something just to stop hosts and fans alike from trying to hound Zoey for information all the time.

They didn't care if Zoey leaked things accidentally—it was cute, even—but it stressed her out when people tricked her into it. She wasn't as good at telling people to back off as Mira and Rumi were. She didn't need to be, though. They'd be her guard dogs; Mira had always been good at snarling.

Mira leant back on the couch and covered her mouth with her fist, then waved awkwardly. “Sorry, sorry. Forget I said anything.”

“Oh, it's cruel to tease us like that.” the host said, spreading his hand out on the desk in front of him pleadingly.

The three of them exchanged a look that was mostly them trying not to burst into a fit of genuine giggles—he had no idea how much of a tease Mira could be—before Rumi slumped back and flicked her wrist. “Fine. No lyrics, though!”

Mira raised her hands in surrender. “Promise.”

The host smiled. “We'll keep it between us.”

Laughter rippled through the crowd.

“Well,” Mira started. “Zoey and I both have a solo track each on the next album. I think you'll really like them.”

She had no idea if people would like them, but she also didn't really care. With the honmoon sealed they could afford to start taking risks with their careers, and Rumi had encouraged them to take total creative control over a song each.

“I know I like them.” Rumi said, soft and genuine in a way that made Mira blush. She hoped it wouldn't show through the makeup.

The host's smile persisted. “Well, what can we know?”

Mira looked at Zoey, encouraging her to talk first with a little jerk of her chin.

“Me?” Zoey asked, blinking.

“You.” Mira said with a nod. There wasn't any real reason for it, she just wanted to watch her light up and feel the rays of her warmth.

Zoey gave a goofy grin—a genuine one—then turned to the host. “So, Golden was sort of an intro to the theme of the album. My song is about my childhood, moving from Burbank to Seoul, how it felt to pack up my whole life, y'know?”

“That's more melancholy than I expected!” the host said. A fair assumption, but an incorrect one. It was a deceptively upbeat song. A little like her, actually—cheerful and silly at a glance but you'd be a fool to think she lacked depth.

Zoey's grin widened. “I didn't say it was sad. I got to meet these two, after all.”

The crowd cooed and Mira nearly joined them. It was as if Rumi and Zoey had conspired to make her as blushy as possible. She couldn't rule it out, actually.

“And you're sure we can't get any lyrics?” he asked. Mira bristled a little. She was being overprotective, and he was just doing his job, but she really didn't like it when people tried to push Zoey.

Zoey giggled. “I wish, but I'm not dealing with a pouty Rumi all night.”

A lie. Almost all Rumi sulks could be resolved with sufficient cuddles and well timed pet names, and that was something they were always happy to do.

“I don't pout.” Rumi pouted. Mira snorted a laugh.

The host chuckled as well. “Okay, okay. What about your song, Mira? Did Zoey write your lyrics, or…?” he asked, looking between them.

Zoey wiggled her hand vaguely. “I helped a little, but these two are also really good at writing. It's always a communal effort.”

Mostly true. Zoey helped a fair bit, but the ideas were Mira's.

“Is your song also about your childhood?” the host asked. The question pushed into dangerous territory, and Mira caught the way Rumi shifted to her left. Shuffling the cards, stacking the deck.

“It's not.” Mira said simply.

The host smiled. “Of course. I know it's a sore subject for you. I imagine writing a song about it would be difficult, but I think a lot of fans would be interested in hearing one.”

No doubt. She'd considered it. Singing about it on her own terms wasn't a problem per se, but the idea of other people singing it made something inside of her squirm.

“My song isn't about the past. It's about the present, and the future.” Mira said. She wanted him to stop asking her about it now, even though she'd brought it up. Still, she kept her eyes on him, expression perfectly polite. Her parents would be so fucking proud.

“There's a lot of rumours about your family, Mira,” the host said mildly, as if he hadn't been given a warning, “Don't you think it would be good to dismiss some of them?”

Her smile faltered. The lights were starting to feel a little too bright. She did not want to have this conversation anymore.

Zoey leant forwards into her periphery. She could feel it when she glanced at her face.

If she spoke she'd end up shouting—arguing with a talkshow host was more trouble than it was worth—and if she walked off she'd be leaving a mess for someone else to clean. Giving in simply wasn't an option worth considering.

She did what she always did when she was so thoroughly trapped. Her eyes flicked over to Rumi and Zoey.

It made her feel small and meek.

Rumi cut in, smooth and confident. “We've heard plenty of rumours. They're not always worth addressing.”

The host didn't take the chance he was being so graciously given to change subjects, instead leaning forwards and folding his hands on his desk. “I think all rumours are worth addressing. It's good to keep the air clear, you know?”

“Really?” Rumi asked, almost pleasantly. She sat with her hands in her lap, back straight, completely disarmed. Except, Rumi didn't need a weapon when she had those teeth.

“Honest communication is important, especially when it comes to family.” he said, blissfully unaware of the tiny smirk forming at the corner of Zoey's mouth—she knew how this worked, too.

If they asked for a segment to be pulled when a live audience was involved it would look bad for them, even if they were justified. It was better if the host was the one who wanted it gone. Better still if they gave the studio audience something else to talk about.

Rumi's polite smile turned wolfish. She didn't want to lean on her for things like this, but the sight settled Mira almost immediately. Rumi had already hidden the card exactly where she wanted it. She might have planted it before the show even started.

It was unfair how stupidly hot Mira found it when Rumi did this.

“Maybe we could trade? Our rumours for yours?” Rumi asked.

The host's smile finally dropped. “What-”

Rumi plowed straight through. “I saw something about mismanaged funds. There was a very nice car in the parking lot, by the way. Was it yours?”

“I think it's time we went on break. We'll be right back!” the host said quickly.

He didn't stand a chance against Rumi and all her excessive research. Mira would've felt bad for him, but, well.

Her body felt electric as they walked back to their dressing room, a mixture of anxiety and fierce pride shooting up and down her spine. Zoey had her hand on Rumi's shoulder, gently correcting her course so she didn't walk into anyone since her attention was entirely on her phone, fingers flying across the screen as she text, brow furrowed in single-minded concentration. She was almost definitely asking Bobby to put the host on their blacklist. They didn't do it often, but Rumi had a zero tolerance policy on people prying into Mira's family life.

It was as comforting as it was disconcerting, though she'd never really been able to put her finger on why.

“Bobby said he'll be blacklisted and they'll put pressure on for the segment to be cut. We can get our things and go, we're not doing anything else here.” Rumi said as she slipped her phone back into her pocket. She looked at Mira with an expression so soft and concerned and so completely at odds with how she'd looked seconds earlier that it made something inside Mira snap.

She gave one quick glance to make sure no staff were around, then pushed Rumi into the wall and kissed her roughly, swallowing the resulting surprised squeak.

Zoey giggled to the side. She understood. Mira knew damn well she found it hot when Rumi took control like that, too.

She felt Rumi's hands on her shoulders, pushing her back lightly, but she also felt Rumi's little smile against her lips. Mira steadied them both by grabbing hold of Rumi's hips. She kissed her again, then mouthed down to her neck. Her nose brushed against the underside of Rumi's jaw and made her tilt her head back.

“We're in- Mira- Mira, we're in public.” Rumi said between insistent kisses, breath catching on her little pleased laugh. She loved that sound.

“I don’t care.” Mira said, her voice a low growl that made Rumi shudder against her as she pressed their hips flush together. Rumi might hold all the cards in an interview, but the deck belonged to Mira everywhere else.

In her periphery she caught Zoey leaning against the wall and watching them, mouth caught in a stupid grin that Mira wanted to kiss off her face, but she was occupied.

“You're a pair of horny teenagers.” Zoey teased.

Rumi made an affronted sound in the back of her throat. Mira just chuckled against Rumi's neck and murmured, “You're one to talk.”

Zoey's breathless laugh was answer enough.

Rumi pushed Mira's shoulders more firmly and she relented, leaning back to look at her flushed face. “Where'd that come from?”

Mira gave her a flat look. How could she be so damn hot and still be so oblivious to the impact she had?

“You're lucky you're pretty.” Mira deadpanned.

Rumi scowled. It wasn't very effective when she looked a little wrecked just from being pinned to the wall. “What's that supposed to mean?”

Zoey giggled and pressed a kiss to Rumi's delightfully pink cheek. “You're so fucking sexy when you're being intimidating, y’know.”

Rumi blinked. Mira could see the cogs turning behind her eyes. Had they really never told her that before? Her and Zoey had definitely talked about it to each other. Multiple times.

“Is that all it takes?” Rumi asked slowly, almost thoughtful as she looked between them. "But I've always done this?"

Mira stared at her again. "And we've always thought you were hot."

Rumi's eyebrows raised. Several sentences started and died on her tongue before she said "...Oh."

She was so fucking stupid. Mira was going to make her see stars.

“Home.” Mira firmly. “Right now.”

Because, while Mira wasn't opposed to it—they'd done it before—if they didn't leave immediately she was going to fuck Rumi against a dressing room table, and that would mean Rumi trying to stay quiet. Mira didn't want quiet. Zoey gave a pleased hum.

Rumi twitched her hips. “Let go, then.”

Mira contemplated making her say please, but she was right that they were at risk of being caught, and Mira cared a little. She didn’t care if people knew about the three of them, but she wanted them to have control over how it was revealed. She released her grip on Rumi and stepped back.

Rumi called their chauffeur while Mira collected their belongings from the dressing room. They weren’t doing a performance so they hadn’t brought much, and everything they’d been gifted during the signing was probably already waiting for them at the tower. By the time security had been updated on the change of plans the car was waiting for them.

Mira sat first, but when Rumi held the door open for Zoey, Zoey simply smiled and gestured for Rumi to sit in the middle instead. She couldn’t see Rumi’s face from this angle, but she knew she’d be narrowing her eyes. She also knew she’d obey, so she wasn’t surprised when Rumi nestled next to her.

Rumi glanced warily at the privacy screen between them and the driver. It was only mostly soundproof.

Zoey was on Rumi’s lap the second the engine hummed into life and Rumi instinctively put a hand on Zoey’s back to steady her. Mira laughed, light and genuine.

“Seatbelt, Zoey.” Mira chided.

Zoey only smiled coyly. “Rumi’ll keep me safe,” she looked to Rumi, “Won’t you?”

Rumi sighed fondly. Mira snorted and rested her elbow on the lip of the tinted window so she could prop her jaw against her fist. Her show was on.

Zoey leaned down to press a surprisingly gentle kiss to Rumi’s lips and Rumi’s shoulders relaxed a fraction. She flattened her palm against Zoey’s spine and pulled her closer, her other hand hovering a little awkwardly as if she was unsure of where to put it. Mira entwined her fingers with it instead. Rumi relaxed completely and gave her hand a light squeeze as if Mira’s gesture was intended to comfort, but it wasn’t. She knew Rumi wouldn’t move her hand from Zoey’s back, so now she couldn’t do anything but take what she was given.

How she could understand the concept of bait in an interview and then immediately forget it when it came to Mira and Zoey was a mystery, but it was one they both took advantage of every chance they got.

Zoey shuffled back slightly so she was perched more on Rumi’s knees than her thighs, and Mira caught Zoey’s hand sliding half way up to the skin just below where her skirt ended. The skirt blocked most of Mira’s view, but she could see small movements in her forearm and could make an educated guess that she was stroking a pattern.

“Zoey…” Rumi warned, muffled by Zoey’s mouth.

“I’m not doing anything.” Zoey murmured back, and then kissed her more hungrily. Zoey’s other hand found its way up to Rumi’s neck, resting lightly against her collarbone. Even just that was enough to make Rumi make a soft, breathy sound in her throat, barely audible over the drone of the engine and the gentle wet sounds of their lips meeting.

She was just so sensitive, it was hard to not tease. She couldn’t even pretend she was unaffected the way Mira did and Zoey never tried to. Her patterns gave her away. They were humming with light now, a pretty pink to match the blush on her cheeks. The poor girl had been touch starved up until a few months ago. She’d gone from avoiding touches against her bare skin to this very quickly. Mira would probably be a little overly sensitive too, in those conditions.

Still, she leaned over so her mouth was a breath away from Rumi’s ear and said, low, “Needy little tiger.”

Rumi gave her a weak glare. She felt her hand twitch as if she wanted to bat Mira away. If she really wanted to she could’ve pulled free—Rumi was stronger than both of them—so the fact that she didn’t was plenty telling. She had the stoplight system if she really wanted them to ease off, anyway.

“You’re both insufferable.” Rumi mumbled.

Zoey’s hand inched higher and Rumi’s breath caught. She broke the kiss and gave a mean little laugh, then whispered, “So why are you soaked?”

If Rumi had been pink before, she was bright red now. Her hand twitched against Mira’s again as she made an aborted attempt at a rebuttal, and then leaned forwards to meet Zoey in another bruising kiss.

It took maybe thirty minutes to get back to the penthouse. Thirty minutes of being kissed by Zoey, stopping only to breathe and so Zoey could whisper no doubt filthy things in her ear, judging by the way the words made Rumi whimper. Their chauffeur absolutely knew something had been happening when he opened the door for them—thankfully after Zoey had managed to scramble back into her seat—but he was paid enough to not ask questions.

It really was a wonder they hadn’t been caught yet.

Mira smiled politely at their security staff while Zoey dragged Rumi towards the elevator. Rumi, for her part, kept her eyes on her shoes in a vain attempt to hide how flustered she still was.

As soon as the elevator doors closed Mira whirled on Rumi, tucked her hands under her thighs, hoisted her up, and pressed her against the wall. Zoey gave a delighted, breathless laugh at the sight of it.

Rumi’s fingers scrabbled against Mira’s shoulders for purchase. “Mira-!” she started, but she cut herself off with a whine when Mira slotted herself between her thighs fully, tensing her stomach muscles so that Rumi’s core was pressed against something firm.

She felt the subtle roll of Rumi’s hips and smirked. “Doesn’t seem like you want me to stop, princess.”

“Shut up.” Rumi grumbled. It only served to make Mira join with Zoey’s laughing.

Mira took a good look at Rumi’s face now that she couldn’t hide it. Dark eyes, smudged lipstick, cheeks flushed—the poor girl looked wrecked, and they hadn’t even started. Mira cooed. “Was Zoey being a tease again?”

Rumi buried her face in Mira's neck and said, against her skin, “You’re being a tease.”

Mira looked aside to Zoey’s grinning face. “Am I?”

Zoey tilted her head side-to-side, as if she had to think about it. “You could tease more.”

Before she could respond, Zoey’s hand was twisted around the collar of Mira’s shirt and she was being pulled into a kiss. She nearly laughed when she heard Rumi’s indignant whine, but Zoey’s kisses were always all-consuming. They demanded her attention and held it there, against her lips, in her mouth. It was constant movement, all the heat and adoration Zoey held in her body spilling out and into Mira.

She felt Rumi shifting against her and assumed she was just trying to get some friction. Mira wasn’t very good at noticing bait, either.

There was abruptly a wet heat and the press of sharp canines against the crook of her neck as Rumi licked then bit. Mira whined into the kiss involuntarily and felt Zoey's smirk, but any irritation was lost when Rumi pulled the skin between her teeth and sucked.

She’d call them assholes, but she’d have been a liar and a hypocrite to boot.

She pressed Rumi harder against the wall so she could free an arm to wrap her hand around the back of Zoey's neck and take control of the kiss, biting at her lower lip and licking into her mouth and earning herself a pretty, surprised moan.

Rumi echoed it, softer, as she rolled her hips against Mira. The angle must have been better—or she could get more leverage from the wall—because the sounds became needier, inching closer to moans.

They’d done this enough times—the elevator trip, not getting half way to fucking during it, though they did that often enough too—to know that they were nearly at the top floor now. Zoey gave Mira a kinder, more chaste kiss before she pulled away.

Instead of putting her down when the elevator doors opened, Mira adjusted her grip on Rumi’s thighs slightly, a wordless warning for Rumi to keep hold of her. Rumi squeezed her neck with her forearms lightly in acknowledgement. She carried her straight through the living room and to her bedroom. She lowered her to the edge of the bed, letting her put her feet back on the ground, and pressed a kiss to her nose as she ran her thumbs over her thighs. She felt Rumi’s muscles twitch under her palms as she kicked her shoes off, and then Rumi was wrapping her legs around Mira's hips and pulling her firmly against her. Mira pressed a hand to Rumi's sternum lightly for balance.

Zoey flopped down on the bed next to her, propping herself up on her elbow.

“How do you want us?” Zoey purred.

Mira's eyes flicked over to Rumi's face. She was looking between the two of them, face flushed, breathing hard. She trailed her fingertips down Rumi's stomach idly, almost possessively, and relished in the way she could feel her abdomen twitching even through the fabric of her shirt.

“Please…” Rumi said with a whine, rolling her hips against Mira desperately.

Mira laughed meanly. “Think you teased her too hard, Zoey,” and then, to Rumi, “You don't need to beg today, princess.”

Rumi looked up at her with wide, glassy eyes.

She could never get enough of this, the difference between the Rumi on stage and the Rumi nearly trembling beneath her now. It made her feel powerful, sure, but more importantly it made her feel trusted. She was someone both Rumi and Zoey felt safe enough with to let go. She felt a pang of guilt that she couldn’t give that back to them. If she didn’t want to, that would be fine. Most of the time she didn't, but sometimes she did.

Mira dislodged the thought by taking hold of Rumi’s legs and forcing her to let go so she could take half a step back. Rumi let out another whine.

“Sorry, baby. You’re just so fun to tease,” Zoey said, almost kind. “I love how you sound when you’re needy.”

Mira ran her hands up Rumi’s thighs slowly, taking her time to feel each twitch and shudder of anticipation. Her knuckle grazed against Rumi’s underwear, drawing out a low whine. She paused, then pulled her hand back to look. Even through the fabric, her knuckle came back shiny with arousal.

“Zoey wasn’t kidding, huh? You’re drenched, and we haven’t even touched you.” Mira mused, almost in awe. Not only was Rumi sensitive, she was so responsive too. She was incredible.

Rumi made a sound that was almost a growl and Mira felt it low in her stomach, a heat that lingered even when Rumi’s voice came out sounding so breathless. “I’m aware.”

One day they’d goad her into taking control. Sounds like that told Mira she definitely had it in her, she just needed pressure applied in the right place.

She pressed her knuckle back against Rumi, more firmly this time, and Rumi’s hips bucked. Briefly, she wondered if she could make her come without touching her at all. Something to try another time.

“Stand up.” Mira said as she took a step back. Rumi propped herself up on her wobbly elbows and peered at her. Mira watched the order sink through the encroaching fog of her mind, but Rumi only looked at her, dazed. She chuckled softly and, to help her figure it out, knelt down on the floor.

It took a second more for Rumi’s brain to finally catch up, and then she was scrambling to get to her feet so quickly that Mira had to grab her hips to stop her from falling.

“Easy, tiger.” Zoey chimed as she stood, sliding up behind Rumi. Mira saw her hands slide to Rumi’s waist, and then she was being tugged back so she was forced to lean against Zoey. Mira hummed in approval. When it came to Rumi, Zoey was usually on the same wavelength as Mira.

“Please.” Rumi whimpered again. “You said you wouldn’t tease.”

Mira tugged her skirt down gently, slowly, unhooking it from under Rumi’s feet so she could toss it aside. She pressed a kiss to the front of her underwear. “I said you didn’t need to beg.”

Rumi tossed her head back in frustration then moaned, low and sweet. Mira looked up and saw that Zoey had taken advantage of her now exposed neck and was biting and licking her way along it.

She could see the wet patch on Rumi’s underwear. She’d planned to drag it out a little longer, but now she really wanted to see just how worked up they’d gotten her.

“Rumi.” Mira said. As soon as Rumi’s attention snapped to her she hooked her thumbs under the waistband of her underwear. She kept eye contact with Rumi as she dragged the sodden fabric down, watching the way her eyes fluttered at the sight. Zoey was watching her, too, she realised. She wondered how long it’d be before Zoey was touching herself to the sight of Mira kneeling between Rumi's thighs.

She gave her maybe a minute.

She looked back down and sucked in a breath. Rumi was, quite literally, dripping. She dragged two fingers up through her folds, ignoring Rumi’s whine as the sensation started and immediately stopped, and wordlessly reached her hand up, humming in approval when she felt a mouth close around her slick fingers. She didn’t have to look up to know it was Zoey. She knew from the way her tongue moved, firm and insistent, pressing up between her fingers as she sucked.

Rumi made a breathy sound above her, she might have just said ‘fuck’, but whatever she said was lost to the way she moaned when Mira finally showed mercy and licked slowly through her folds. She dragged her fingers from Zoey’s mouth, over her lower lip, and down to Rumi’s thigh so she could support herself as she lapped at her clit slowly, savouring the sounds. When she dipped her tongue inside a hand clasped her hair, tugging roughly, unintentionally, clumsily. Mira made an appreciative sound in her throat at the sharp sting of it.

She looked up through her eyelashes to make sure Rumi was watching and hummed approvingly when she saw that Zoey was pinning the bottom of Rumi’s shirt to her shoulder with her chin, exposing her chest, and cupping the outside of her bra with one hand. The approval was more for the way her other hand was clamped around Rumi’s jaw roughly, forcing her to watch.

Zoey caught Mira's look and her grin turned wicked. “Isn't she so pretty on her knees for you?”

Mira wrapped her arms around Rumi’s legs and pushed her tongue inside, tensing the muscle against the almost unbearable heat. The hand on Rumi’s breast slid down to her waist, wrapping around her to help hold her up. Rumi’s hips jolted forwards, and it took Mira a moment to register it was because Zoey had pushed against her.

“Take what you want, Rumi.” Zoey coaxed. “She likes to be used.”

The words sent liquid heat straight to the apex of Mira’s thighs. She looked down to focus on Rumi, because if she kept looking up Zoey would see just how much it affected her—as if she didn't already know—and she’d never hear the end of it.

She pulled her tongue out so she could catch her breath, replacing it with two fingers when Rumi whined at the loss and thrusted into her slowly, curling her fingers until she found the spot that made her keen. She might have been following Zoey’s instructions or she might have just been losing control, but she started rolling her hips desperately. Mira fucked into her more roughly, pressing her tongue to Rumi’s clit and letting her ride her face.

She dug her nails into the soft, tender flesh of Rumi’s thigh. It was mostly to ground herself. There was a filthy sort of pleasure in being used, in her own needs being ignored in favour of theirs. She could give up control like this, let herself be a toy for them.

“Mira, Mira, I…-” Rumi moaned, high pitched and loud. She hadn’t needed the warning, she could feel how close Rumi was from the way her walls clenched down.

“Let go, baby. Show her how good she’s making you feel.” Zoey murmured, voice unsteady and barely audible to Mira over the sounds Rumi was making, a tangle of whimpers and moans and attempts at her name, then at Zoey’s. She nearly sobbed when she came undone around Mira’s fingers. Mira fucked her through it, easing off when Rumi’s hand relaxed in her hair.

She sat back on her haunches, releasing her grip on her thigh so that Zoey could ease her down onto the bed. She’d been about to get up, but then Zoey was cupping the back of her neck and pulling her into a fierce kiss. For all the heat, it wasn’t a long kiss, which Mira was grateful for—she’d barely had time to catch her breath.

“Wanted another taste?” Mira teased, looking up at her from where she knelt. “Greedy.”

“Mmh. Wanted a taste of you, too.” Zoey said, holding a hand out to help Mira to her feet. It sent something warm through her, not arousal, just a feeling of being loved. Her brain started to supply ‘of being taken care of’ but she didn't let the thought settle. It was easy to ignore when Zoey spun her gently and pushed back onto the bed next to a very boneless Rumi.

Rumi blinked when she was jostled by the movement, then gave Mira a dopey, blissed out smile.

“Hey, princess. You okay?” Mira asked.

Rumi hummed, pleased, and curled up against Mira’s thigh. Mira put a hand on Rumi’s cheek and chuckled softly when she pushed into it slightly, like a friendly cat.

Zoey sat on Mira’s other side and Mira turned to look at her.

“I was a little occupied. Do you-” Mira started. She actually didn’t need to ask, because now that she was able to really look at her she could see the warm glow to her freckled cheeks, the glaze to her eyes, and, most tellingly, she could see that Zoey wasn’t fidgeting all over the place. All the signs of her being in a post-orgasm haze.

“Nope. Took care of myself.” Zoey said, completely shameless. “I couldn’t help it. That was hot as hell.”

Mira barked a laugh. She should’ve paid more attention so she could see if her estimate of about a minute was right. “I can still take care of you, y’know. I know you could give me more.”

Zoey looked at her. She’d expected to see a full return of the heat from earlier, but instead she was met with something softer, and a little conflicted. “Nah, I’m good. I think I just want to cuddle, actually? Oh! Unless you want me to-”

Mira cut her off with a loving kiss. “I’m okay. You know how-... I’m okay,” she gave her another one, aiming to reassure, “But thank you for asking.”

Zoey hummed in response. They'd sort of talked about it before, but Zoey was also more observant than she gave herself credit for. She knew that Mira could submit, or she could receive, but she couldn’t do both in the same night. Mira wasn’t really sure why that was the case, either. It just felt too vulnerable to be so completely out of control—even if she knew that she could stop it all with a single word.

Still, it was nice that they always gave her a chance to change her mind. Maybe one day she'd find the courage to.

She looked down at Rumi and nearly startled when she realised she was looking too, the fog in her eyes receding and clearing into a startlingly sunny adoration. Mira had to make a concerted effort to not squirm.

“Do you want your braid out?” Mira asked instead of acknowledging it. Rumi blinked at her slowly, then nodded. “Up, then.”

She slid a hand under Rumi's back, gently helping her sit upright. Zoey shuffled off the bed and returned with some pyjama bottoms—Mira's, which was fine—to hand to Rumi, who smiled appreciatively and pulled them on while Mira settled behind her.

“You just want it out, or do you want me to tie it up?” Mira asked.

Rumi exhaled and croaked, “Out, please.”

Mira nodded approvingly. It was no wonder she got headaches so often. She set to work undoing the braid, but peeked over Rumi's shoulder when she felt Zoey's weight against her leg. Her hands stilled for a moment while her heart soaked in the warmth of what she was seeing. Zoey was lying in her lap, looking up at both of them with a soft kind of love that Mira had never expected to be given so freely. It was something she'd seen hundreds of times before, even when they weren't dating, but the sweet domesticity of it, of the way Zoey tangled her fingers with Rumi’s and pressed a kiss to her palm, still made her heart skip a beat every time.

She resumed releasing Rumi's impressive mass of hair slower this time, running her fingers through lightly every so often and scratching her nails softly into her scalp. Rumi gave a pleased little shudder occasionally. Once she was done they'd probably shower and go to bed—it had been a long day and she could feel the exhaustion making itself comfortable in her bones—but she wanted to draw out this quiet peace for as long as she could.

Chapter Text

Mira woke to a crushing weight on her chest.

A year ago it would have been concerning. Today, it just meant that Rumi had woken up first and deposited Zoey on her when she got out of bed. It wasn’t the most comfortable position, definitely not comfortable enough for her to go back to sleep, but she had no real desire to move her.

She cracked open an eye to confirm her suspicions and smiled fondly at the tangle of dark hair just under her chin. She rested her hand between Zoey’s shoulderblades and drew small, idle patterns against her shirt. Zoey stirred a little, making a soft, breathy sound of contentment that made Mira feel pleasantly warm all over, then nuzzled into her chest. If the angle were better, she’d have leaned down to kiss the dusting of freckles over her nose. As it was, she just held her close.

Faintly, she could smell something cooking, and it made her realise she was starving. They’d skipped dinner after they got back.

Well. Zoey and Rumi had. Mira had eaten something.

She looked over to the window, where a ribbon of sunlight fell through a crack in the curtains. If the sun was up it was probably mid morning. She rubbed at her eyes with the heel of her palm and gave Zoey a nudge. She whined and slid an arm up Mira’s back to hold on tighter, making a sound that was half way to a ‘no’.

She could’ve just moved her. In fact, if she stood up Zoey would probably just cling to her like a koala—her sleepy death grip wasn’t as ironclad as Rumi’s but it wasn’t far off. Instead she pressed a kiss to Zoey’s hair and shook her again.

“C’mon. I’m hungry.” Mira said, voice still thick with sleep.

Zoey mumbled incoherently, groaned, then pushed herself up onto her elbows. She looked down at Mira blearily. “So go eat.”

Mira sighed, a touch overdramatic, then wrapped both arms around Zoey and rolled to the side. Zoey gave an indignant squeak of protest.

“Miraaa.” Zoey whined. Mira chuckled tiredly and pressed a kiss to her nose. Zoey's eyes narrowed a fraction and her hand shifted up so she could run her fingers over Mira's neck. Mira raised an eyebrow.

“She bit you pretty hard, huh?” Zoey mused.

“Don't be jealous.” Mira said, teasing and hoping it hid the way the memory made her blush.

Instead of denying it, Zoey propped herself up and gave Mira a chaste kiss. “Make me breakfast.”

Mira laughed lightly. “Demanding.”

“You weren't complaining last night.” Zoey said with a lazy grin.

“Mmh. Guess I wasn't.” Mira conceded before rolling away and getting to her feet. “You're not eating in my bed, though. Get up.”

Zoey groaned again as Mira made for the bathroom, but the shuffling of bedsheets told her that she was getting out of bed as well.

By the time she'd finished brushing her teeth and corralling Zoey to do the same her stomach was rumbling. The faint clattering of Rumi in the kitchen filtered through when she opened her bedroom door and she followed it home.

She paused as she rounded the corner of the hallway. Rumi's hair was tied back in a loose ponytail—her scalp would thank her for it—and she'd stolen one of Mira's oversized t-shirts. She hadn't been wearing it when they went to sleep.

Mira had no room to complain—she definitely had some of Rumi's hoodies in her wardrobe now, especially since Rumi wore them less often—but she wouldn't have even if she did. She liked seeing Rumi and Zoey wearing her clothes. She liked that they wanted the closeness to her even when she wasn't nearby.

She watched Rumi for a while longer, openly and unashamed. She'd already finished cooking and was putting things away.

“Morning.” Mira said, eventually.

Rumi startled a little and whirled around, then put a hand on her chest soothingly and smiled. “Morning. I made breakfast.”

Mira walked past the couch and to the island counter. It was a bigger breakfast than she'd expected, with a variety of dishes to choose from. She tilted her head. “You did all of this by yourself?”

Rumi nodded a little absently. It gnawed at Mira, but she was trying not to jump to conclusions so easily. She gave Rumi a slow once-over anyway. She didn't seem hurt, or sick. If anything, she looked well rested. She'd only barely made it through the shower before she was asleep in Zoey's arms, so she must have slept pretty solidly.

Rumi handed her a plate—she didn't need to ask what Mira wanted anymore, they'd been past that point for years—and she slid onto a chair to pick at it.

“Zoey should be out in a minute.” Mira said, then paused. “Unless she went back to bed.”

Rumi laughed softly. “I don't know how she does it. I always get a headache if I oversleep.”

Mira raised an eyebrow and looked pointedly at Rumi's hair. She either missed the look or ignored it.

“You get headaches because of the braid, and because you don't hydrate enough.” Mira said, just to make sure her point had been made.

Rumi waved a hand dismissively. “The braid is fine, and I drink enough.”

Mira hummed in response and made a note in the tab in her brain named ‘Rumi’ to keep an eye on how much water she drank. She was fine when they had rehearsals—it was a rule Mira enforced with a heavy hand—but outside of that it wasn't completely uncommon for her to focus on a task for several hours and only realise her body had needs when she came up for air.

There wasn't even a point in discussing the braid. Rumi didn't want to change it and neither Mira nor Zoey would ask her to, they just encouraged her to wear her hair down or in a ponytail when it was just them.

Rumi rounded the island and pushed a chair so close to Mira's they were almost touching, then flopped down into it and rested her head on her shoulder.

“Why are you wearing my shirt, by the way?” Mira asked. Just because she didn't mind didn't mean she wouldn't tease.

Rumi sat up and blinked owlishly at her. “Uh-...”

Mira took a bite of her breakfast and stared at her expectantly.

“I was just-... ugh.” Rumi groaned. “I was feeling a little anxious, okay?”

Mira put her chopsticks down immediately and turned to face her, teasing vanishing under the mixture of concern that Rumi was upset and relief that she'd admitted it. “What's wrong?”

Rumi looked away. “I'll tell you when Zoey gets up.”

Mira watched the curve of her mouth and the crinkle of her brow. She didn't look scared, just… anxious, yes, and also a little embarrassed?

She reached up and brushed a strand of hair that had escaped the ponytail over Rumi's ear. Rumi closed her eyes and leant into the touch, so she flattened her palm against her cheek instead, letting her breath tickle the knuckle of her thumb.

She simply lacked the emotional bandwidth to fully acknowledge that Rumi had sought out something of Mira’s to wear to soothe herself. It was adorable and heartbreaking in equal measure.

She was saved from having to linger on the thought when Zoey padded in, stretching her arms above her head. “Did you already-” she cut herself off when she saw them. “Oh. Is-… is everything okay?”

Rumi shrugged helplessly. The third chair scraped along the floor as Zoey dragged it out so she could sit facing them properly.

“What happened?” Zoey asked, all her exhaustion shaken free and replaced by concern.

Rumi took a deep breath and sat upright so she could fish her phone from her pocket. She mumbled, “We fucked up.”

Something cold slithered down Mira's spine.

Fucked up how? There were a thousand ways they could've fucked any number of things up, to varying severity.

“Bobby needs another raise fucked up, or fucked up fucked up?” Zoey asked carefully, echoing Mira's thoughts as she leaned forwards to look at what Rumi was doing.

Rumi opened a page on her phone and held it out for both of them to read.

Mira’s chest immediately felt tight.

On Rumi’s screen was a picture from the day before. A shock of pink hair and a purple braid and black space buns. A picture of her pinning Rumi to the wall, mouth on her neck, hands on her hips. It had been taken from behind Zoey, some distance down the corridor, zoomed in but not enough to distort their faces.

Rumi had warned her they were in public, but she’d checked, she’d-

“Fuck.” Mira breathed.

Underneath the picture was a paragraph confirming a member of the talkshow’s staff—who wished to remain anonymous—had seen them and taken the picture.

“Fuck.” Mira said, more emphatically. Her heart thundered against the inside of her ribs. She’d been so stupid. “I’m sorry, I-...”

“It’s not your fault. We could’ve stopped it if we wanted.” Zoey said quickly.

“Bobby’s doing damage control, but…” Rumi trailed off.

“How long has it been up?” Zoey asked, leaning forwards to squint at the screen.

Rumi turned her phone screen off and tossed it lightly to the counter. “A few hours. Bobby was too busy getting the interview pulled.”

Zoey took her own phone and tapped on it. After a few seconds she huffed. “It’s all over the place, but we could still-... I don’t know, deny it? Find a spin for it?”

Mira stared ahead. There weren’t many good options for them. Denying it would be the safest bet. That was what she should’ve said, what any of them should’ve said. Instead they sat in an uneasy silence.

She didn’t want to deny it. She didn’t want to treat them like that.

Her eyes flicked over to Rumi’s and found apprehension and, worse, acceptance, like she’d already given in and was willing to be someone’s dirty secret again.

She looked at Zoey, who was picking at her cuticles like her opinion on it didn’t matter.

They would not be hurt by this. She wasn’t going to let this make her hurt them.

“We should just tell everyone.” Mira said abruptly, almost casually. Rumi and Zoey’s heads both shot up to look at her. “I mean, so what if it damages our reputation?” she continued. “I’m not-... you guys aren’t something to be ashamed of.”

Zoey smiled brilliantly. “You big sap.”

“Yeah, well. I love you, so.” Mira said, cringing inwardly at herself for how she said it.

Rumi stared at Mira, then at Zoey. The cogs whirred in her head. “Are you-... I mean, I’d like to-... it won’t be easy.”

Mira hummed. She wasn’t wrong. The media would have a field day with it, and they’d become the subject of a discussion that Mira did not want to deal with, but hiding it would hurt all three of them eventually. It was never going to be a secret forever. The love she had for them had once fit inside her body, but now that she could let it out it expanded to fill every room she was in. She was an endless source of it. If she didn’t let it out of the penthouse soon it would start cracking the glass.

“I don’t mind it being difficult.” Mira said simply. “I mean, if either of you want to keep it a secret…”

“I want to tell people.” Zoey said. “Honestly it’s kind of a miracle I haven’t already?”

Mira snorted softly. “Proud of you, trouble.”

She didn’t miss the way Zoey’s ears went red. Of the three of them Zoey was the least predictable, but Mira knew which buttons to press.

Rumi was still staring at her, brows furrowed lightly. Mira leaned over and pressed a kiss to the wrinkle that formed there. “What are you thinking?”

“I just-... are you sure?” Rumi asked quietly.

Mira was working on forgiving Celine at Rumi’s request, she really was. Part of her also wanted to forgive her, to get back the parental figure she’d lost, but some days the knowledge that Rumi had spent twenty-four years hiding struck her in the chest and she had to bite down on her anger to stop it from spilling from her mouth.

“We’re sure if you’re sure.” Zoey said, putting a soothing hand on Rumi’s arm.

Rumi’s shoulders relaxed and she gave them a smile, small and sweet. “Okay. We should still get that article taken down, though.”

“I’m saving the picture first.” Zoey said. Mira exhaled a laugh.

Rumi snatched her phone from her hands. “Why?!”

“Because it’s- gimme- a hot picture- let go!” Zoey whined as Rumi pushed herself up onto the island counter and held Zoey’s phone above both of them.

“You can see us making out whenever you want.” Mira mused.

Zoey jumped up and snatched her phone back from Rumi’s raised hand. “Not like that though. Rumi needs to threaten people more often if it gets you that worked up.”

Heat rushed to Mira’s cheeks. She grumbled a “whatever” and looked away. When she risked a glance back she saw that Rumi was blushing too. Zoey gave a delighted cackle but otherwise didn't comment on it, which was suspiciously nice of her.

“So, what, do we just… make a post about it?” Zoey asked.

“I guess? I'll call Bobby. He'll probably have some ideas.” Rumi said, voice cracking a little.

If that kiss had got her so flustered maybe Zoey had a point. She'd die before she admitted it.

The announcement hadn't gone especially well, but it could have gone a lot worse. Rumi had confiscated both Mira and Zoey's phones for a few days to stop them from responding to homophobic comments and causing a new scandal. It had meant nobody was talking about the article anymore, at least.

Mira had her back phone now, but Zoey was on time out again after she responded to a comment saying that Rumi had cheated on them with Jinu. She'd only told them to worry about how annoying they were instead of worrying about Rumi, so the punishment felt a little harsh. Mira would've said worse.

She looked out the car window. They were tinted, but she could see how bright it was outside anyway by the way the sun bounced off the sunglasses of pedestrians and cast shadows in harsh, clean lines.

The fan signing they’d just finished had been her favourite they’d ever done, easily superseding their first one when she’d been made to face the reality that thousands of people admired her. They’d expected the numbers to drop, but they hadn’t. Anyone who’d not attended had been replaced by someone who was suddenly more interested in meeting them now that they knew they were alike. It was mostly young queer women, proudly displaying badges on their bags or patches on their jackets denoting their sexuality. A few had told them they’d been closeted up until the announcement. Some told them they still were, and the three of them were the first people they’d come out to.

Rumi and Zoey had openly cried about it. Mira had nearly joined them, her ‘thank you’s and ‘we love you too’s coming out thicker and more strained as the day went on. It wasn’t that she didn’t feel as intensely about it as they did, it was that there was a weight to the whole thing that sat on her heart and stopped the tears from falling freely.

If her only legacy was that she made a handful of queer people feel accepted and seen in a way she’d never been until she left home, she would’ve been just fine with that.

“We should get boba.” Rumi said, apropos of nothing. Mira leaned around Zoey to look at her.

Zoey perked up immediately and leaned forwards to speak to the chauffeur. They didn’t have the privacy window up this time. “Can you stop at that boba place by the tower?”

He glanced up at them in the rear view mirror. “Sure.”

“We can walk back from there. It’s only a few minutes.” Mira added. It would have taken longer to drive them around the block than for them to just walk, anyway, and it was an area where they were seen enough that people didn’t normally surround them, so they wouldn’t have to wait for security to escort them.

The shop owner, a kind elderly man, knew them well enough by now that he didn’t have to ask for their order, and didn’t make a big deal about seeing them either. It was why they went here so often, really. It was nice to be able to be somewhere they weren’t treated differently.

There weren’t any available seats inside, so they stood outside the shop in the shade of a nearby tree. It was a hot day, but not an especially humid one. Distantly, Mira was glad that Rumi didn’t have to cover up so much anymore. It couldn’t have been good for her to wear long sleeves on days like this. She looked at the way the dappled sunlight reflected off her patterns.

“So… that was a weird fan signing, huh?” Zoey said after a while.

Rumi nodded. “Not bad weird, though.”

“I don’t know how you didn’t cry.” Zoey said, looking at Mira.

Mira shrugged. “Honestly? Me neither. I think I’ll probably crash out about it later.”

Rumi snorted, amused, but then blinked when Zoey slipped her hand into hers and kissed her on the cheek. “What was that for?”

“Just because I can.” Zoey said with a shrug.

Mira found herself smiling fondly. Cute. They were cute, and they were hers, and it wasn’t a secret anymore. She plucked Zoey’s and Rumi’s empty cups from their hands and walked out from under the tree to put them in the bin for them.

That was when she saw them. She blinked slowly. They hadn’t changed much, just a few new wrinkles and looking a little greyer around the temples. If she had to hazard a guess, they probably hadn’t changed at all. They were always too stubborn for that.

She inherited it from somewhere, she supposed.

“Mira.” her father said, as if the last time he’d seen her was a few days ago and not a decade. A decade of peace, of learning what it felt like to be loved, of not being afraid of slammed doors and heavy footsteps.

They didn’t live anywhere near here. It wasn’t why they picked this location for the tower, but it was something Mira had been glad for.

Her throat suddenly felt dry, but she forced out a question. “Why are you here?”

It sounded thin and pathetic to her ears.

“We were just going for a walk.” her mother said mildly.

“Bullshit.” Mira hissed. She didn’t want to shout. She couldn’t risk drawing attention to this before she could resolve it. She didn’t want Rumi and Zoey to come over, didn’t want to expose them to her parents, didn’t want to put them at risk of her father’s closed fists or her mother’s quiet hatred.

“Language.” her mother said. Mira hated that, for half a second, she felt chided.

She was going to walk away from them—she’d done it before, she’d do it again—but then her mother spoke again. “Jong-su is doing well for himself. Did you know he’s getting married?”

It made her pause. She had to bite down the urge to ask. She’d loved her brother, once. She didn’t anymore. She had to remember that she didn’t anymore.

“Good for him.” Mira said tersely. “I don’t care.”

“We saw your announcement.” her father said, with the same icy tone that had always signalled the start of a storm. Her heart beat hard against her ribs. She’d been having a good day. Even if she walked away now, the rest of her day was going to carry the shadow of this conversation. The rest of her week would, just like the rest of her life would carry the echo of her childhood.

“Is that why you’re here? To call me a-” Mira snarled, but cut herself off when she saw her parent’s eyes flick to something over her shoulder.

Suddenly Rumi and Zoey were at her side. She wanted them to stay and save her as ferociously as she wanted them to leave and not see whatever was about to happen. If her father was a storm, she was a wildfire—he’d douse her eventually, but she’d burn as much as she could to ashes first.

“Is everything okay?” Rumi asked cautiously.

Zoey took Mira’s hand in her own and Mira squeezed on instinct. She hoped she didn’t notice the way she was shaking.

“Everything is fine. We were just having a conversation.” her father said. Mira watched her mothers eyes flick down to her and Zoey’s joined hands. Her expression didn’t change, but she could read her thoughts clearly. They were always the same, when it came to Mira.

Disappointment.

Always disappointment. She was too pathetic, too attention seeking, too aggressive to deserve anything else.

Mira’s world narrowed to the sources of pain in front of her and the way her heart shuddered against her straining lungs.

When her mother looked back up to Mira’s face her eyes caught on her neck and she stiffened. Mira’s free hand shot up to pull the collar of her jacket up over the lovebite. She’d covered it with makeup, but it was hot and she’d been busy all day. She had no idea how well it was hidden anymore. The movement caught her father’s attention.

Mira wished she had any control over how her body reacted, but it was instinctual, it had been taught to her young, it was ingrained in her.

When her father raised his hand to pull her collar back she flinched so hard she nearly collided with Zoey.

In an instant Rumi was standing in front of her while Zoey pressed to her side and anchored her to the present. Now she was shaking so hard there was no way it hadn’t been noticed, and she hated herself for it even more.

“Walk away.” Rumi said, low and dangerous. Her father raised his eyebrows at her, unimpressed. It was a look Mira was familiar with. He wouldn’t hit Rumi like he hit her, she knew he wouldn’t, but the fear of it made her tug Rumi’s arm back.

Rumi stayed where she was. She didn’t even look over her shoulder.

“We’re allowed to speak to our daughter.” her father said.

“I haven’t been your daughter in a long time.” Mira snapped before she could stop herself. She was still trying to keep her voice low, but she couldn’t help the way it raised. She felt like a cornered animal, wild and dangerous and so fucking pathetic in her desire to escape. She had to force herself to remember that she wasn’t one, that she’d been let inside and shown the warmth of affection, that the only people who could hold her leash now were right next to her, snarling in her defense.

Her father sighed through his nose. He would have hit her for that before. If Rumi and Zoey weren’t here he still might have. The idea sent anger flooding through her, that he was still looking at her like an unruly teenager who’d been caught sneaking out for the third time in a week, that he’d still try and cow her into obedience.

But she was still afraid of him, and her mother was still watching her like she deserved whatever awful thing happened to her.

She squeezed Zoey’s hand to try and ground herself. She’d never had control as a teenager, but she had control now. Control over herself, her anger, her circumstances. She wouldn’t let him turn her back into the person she used to be. She wouldn’t be that person anymore.

“You must be Rumi and Zoey.” her father said, as if he wasn’t sure. He probably wasn’t. It wasn’t like he’d ever listened to Mira before, so why would he listen to her sing?

“Leave.” Zoey said in response. Underneath the strange numbness filling her limbs she was fiercely proud of both of them for not giving them an inch. If they were given an inch to hold onto, her parents wouldn’t stop pulling on it until they’d taken everything.

“I’m not surprised you did this,” her father said, ignoring Zoey in favour of looking at Mira over Rumi’s shoulder. “You always did crave attention. I just wish you’d stop dragging us through the mud with you. We were finally proud of you when you achieved all of this, but dating-”

She’d barely had time to register what he was saying before Rumi was taking a step forward. Zoey was always the fastest of them, though.

The world slowed. Zoey let go of her hand and took a few steps forwards, jaw clenched so tightly Mira could see the way it trembled, hand already balled into a fist and elbow pulling back. Rumi reached out to grab her, but it was a half-hearted attempt at best and nowhere near quick enough to stop Zoey’s fist from colliding with her father’s cruel mouth.

Everything exploded in motion, then. Rumi took Zoey’s arm and pulled her away at the same time as her father recoiled and covered his mouth with his palm. He didn’t move fast enough for Mira to not see the way thick red blood spilled from his lips. He might have lost some teeth from it. Her mother shouted something in a panic.

The rest of the street flooded back in. Other people were shouting and running over to help her father. Rumi grabbed Mira’s bicep and turned her around to face her. Her brain was spinning on its axis. Zoey had just hit her father.

“Let’s go home, okay?” Rumi said near Mira’s ear, her hand sliding up to her shoulder to guide her. She glanced over her shoulder and saw that her father was glaring at her through the involuntary tears that always sprung when someone was hit in the face.

Mira knew it well.

Blood dribbled down his chin and onto his shirt. She’d seen him look this angry before, and it had frightened her back then. She didn’t like that it still frightened her now.

He’d looked like that the day she ran away from home.

The rest of the walk back to the penthouse was a blur. Rumi took her hand and led in front while Zoey stayed a few steps behind, as if she was worried Mira’s parents would follow them. They wouldn’t after that. She came from a long line of cowards, and Zoey had hit her father.

She started to feel a little more aware by the time she was being sat on the couch. Her hands were shaking, probably from adrenaline. Zoey sat next to her while Rumi headed to the kitchen.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t’ve-” Zoey started.

Mira looked up at her. “Don’t be.”

“He was just insulting you and saying shit like he was ‘finally proud’, as if you’re not one of the most impressive people in the world? It’s bullshit. He shouldn’t- and he tried to reach for you! Before! I’m so sorry we didn’t come over right away. We didn’t realise they were your parents-”

“Mira.” Rumi said as she walked over from the kitchen, tissues in hand. “Are you angry at her? At us?”

“No.” Mira said immediately. She looked at Zoey. “No. That was- I-...” she reached to take Zoey’s hands in hers. “Thank you. Both-”

Her thumb swiped over something hot and wet and she looked down. A streak of red trailed from where her thumb had been to where it was now. Zoey’s knuckles were bleeding, probably from where they’d connected with her father’s teeth.

It was typical that he’d find a way to leave a mark, even when he lost.

“Zoey…” Mira started slowly.

“Worth it.” Zoey, firm.

Mira exchanged a look with Rumi and was relieved when Rumi handed over the tissues. Zoey getting hurt was her fault, she should be the one to tend to the wound.

Zoey hissed lightly through her teeth when Mira pressed the tissue firmly against the teeth marks.

“You should wash this properly.” Mira said. She’d never split her knuckles over someone’s mouth before, but she knew how prone bites were to getting infected.

Actually, she knew that from Zoey. She remembered her telling them both about it once when they were cleaning a bite from a demon. She’d wondered if demon mouths carried bacteria too. The conversation had distracted Mira from the pain of Rumi sterilizing it. She wasn’t as good with words as Zoey was, so she couldn’t return that favour.

“Are you okay?” Rumi asked gently. It took Mira a moment to realise the question was aimed at her.

She considered lying, but it would’ve been unfair to all of them. “Not really, but I will be.”

She had to be. Letting her parents hurt her through a conversation that hadn’t even lasted five minutes was humiliating enough. She wasn’t going to be more pathetic in front of Rumi and Zoey than she already had been. She couldn’t let her family have that sort of control over her again.

Mira stood, pulling Zoey with her gently. Rumi followed them over to the kitchen sink without a word. She turned on the water and held Zoey’s hand under it. Zoey winced again, but she didn’t try to pull away. They’d all had much worse wounds than this before, they knew what to expect.

She ran her thumb over the thin line at Zoey’s knuckle. It had gone down to the bone, but that wasn’t surprising—the skin was thin there, and it broke easily. It did mean that Zoey would have limited movement in her dominant hand for a while, though. They didn’t have any more signings for a while, so they could probably get away with it.

She kept Zoey’s hand still with a gentle grip around her wrist until the water turned pink, then clear, and then very gently cleaned it with soap. Zoey’s hand twitched at the pain of it. She was doing an admirable job of pretending it didn’t hurt, but Mira knew it did, so she tried to be as gentle as she could.

“It was a good punch, by the way.” Rumi mused as she fished out the first aid kit and retrieved a clean bandage. Mira hummed in agreement as she dabbed at the wound with some tissue to dry it. Her form was good, she just shouldn’t have aimed for the mouth.

Zoey gave a lopsided grin. “Thanks. I wish I’d hit him harder.”

Mira huffed a laugh. “Me too.”

She held her hand still while Rumi wrapped the bandage tightly around her knuckles, then pressed a kiss to the wound after she secured it.

Mira didn’t bother to tell them not to protect her. It wasn’t an argument she’d win.

It took a couple of days for the video to get released, which was surprising. Mira had watched it a few times since then. Someone had started recording as soon as she flinched away and kept recording until the three of them had rounded the corner.

Seeing herself being led so bonelessly bothered her. If her father had struck back, tried to hurt Zoey in retaliation, she was sure she’d have been able to intervene at the time, but looking at her expression in the video now…

Maybe she’d have just stood there and let it happen, like she had the first few times her father hit her.

Her phone was plucked from her grip and tossed lightly to the bottom of the bed. Rumi uncurled from her side and sat up, shuffling onto her knees next to her.

“Stop watching it.” Rumi chided gently. Mira grumbled and leaned back.

“Maybe I just want to see Zoey punch him again.” she said.

Rumi narrowed her eyes a little. “Then why do you look so sad?”

Mira paused. Did she look sad? She didn’t think her face was doing anything in particular, but Rumi always had been perceptive, so-

Her thoughts were graciously stopped with a gentle kiss. Her hand came up to cup Rumi’s jaw, and he found herself kissing back, slow and lazy. Rumi pulled back a little and smiled softly down at her. That smile would’ve stopped her thoughts from racing just as surely as the kiss did.

Zoey didn’t announce herself when she came in, just flopped down on the bed next to Mira and curled up against her side, cheek to her shoulder, knee kicked up over her hips. Mira wrapped an arm around her and pulled her closer. Rumi took Zoey’s bandaged hand in her own and rested both of them over Mira’s steadily beating heart.

“Didn’t go well?” Mira asked. Zoey had left the room to answer a call from Bobby. Mira and Rumi had a sneaking suspicion they knew what it was about.

Zoey sighed. “Bobby said they’re not pressing charges.”

“That’s good.” Rumi said, almost suspicious.

Zoey buried her face into Mira’s shoulder for a moment. Mira could feel the heat of her breath through her pyjama shirt. After a while, she looked back up. “It is, it’s just-... ugh. I was just so angry at him. For showing up, for talking to you as if he had a right to just-” Zoey cut herself off and said, more softly. “Sorry. I’m sorry.”

Mira pressed a kiss to her hair. “I’m not angry at you.”

“It was actually kinda hot.” Rumi mused absently.

She froze when Mira and Zoey stared at her. It wasn’t that Rumi didn’t tell them what she thought was hot, it was just that it usually had to be coaxed out of her.

Her expression grew indignant. “What, you can say it’s hot when I get protective, but I can’t-”

Zoey’s upset had been immediately forgotten, it seemed, because in seconds she was leaning over Mira’s chest and flattening her uninjured hand against Rumi’s collarbone.

“Is that right? You think it’s hot when I fight?” Zoey teased. Mira laughed and put a hand on Zoey’s hip to steady her. Her moods were always a lightswitch, ready to flick on or off at the gentlest push. It was cute when it wasn’t being detrimental.

Rumi’s eyes flicked between them, looking for all the world like a deer in headlights. Mira would’ve felt bad about it, but this was a trap of her own making. She knew how Zoey would react. She couldn’t be that oblivious, surely.

Then again, it was Rumi.

Mira’s muscles twitched when Zoey put a hand on her stomach for balance as she leaned closer to Rumi’s blushing face. “Answer me, Rumi.”

Rumi looked down at Mira for help. Mira gave her a small shrug. She could use a distraction, too, and Zoey was nothing if not distracting.

Zoey’s hand slid up from her shoulder to the back of her hair and tugged, forcing Rumi to look back at her and drawing a low whine from her throat. It was honestly impressive how quickly she’d gone from frustrated to this.

“Do you like it when I fight for you? For both of you?” Zoey asked, her eyes dark and narrowed and mischievous. Heat coiled lazily in Mira’s stomach. Maybe she should be alarmed at how quickly she was being turned on by this, too, except it wasn’t really a surprise.

“I-... what?” Rumi asked.

“It’s okay if you do.” Zoey teased. “You already know how hot we think it is when you do.”

Mira licked her lips before she spoke. “I’m sure we can show you again, if you forgot.”

Rumi’s look was one of betrayal, immediately followed by surprise when Mira slid out from beneath them, dislodging Zoey’s hand, and pressed her mouth close to her ear.

“Does thinking about Zoey snarling make you wet?” Mira whispered.

Rumi opened and closed her mouth a few times, looking between them. One day she’d have enough confidence to team up with her to put Zoey in her place, but today probably wasn’t that day. A small part of her hoped she’d team up with Zoey to-... but that was too much to think about right now. Too much control to give up.

It was just too much fun to do this to Rumi, anyway.

“No, I-” Rumi started.

“Don’t lie.” Zoey warned, tightening her grip in Rumi’s hair. Mira watched the column of Rumi’s throat bob as she swallowed. Light rippled through her patterns.

Eventually, Rumi said, “Yes.”

“Good girl.” Zoey said, softer now, as she released her grip on her hair. Mira didn’t have to be touching her to know how her body reacted to it—she reacted to it too, and it wasn’t even aimed at her. Both of Rumi’s hands fell to the bedsheets, and Mira got the distinct feeling that if she scratched under her chin she’d lean into it. She gave up control so easily for them. She let it slip through her fingers like water the second she knew they’d be there to catch her.

She wished she could be the same, but she always had to cling to the last few drops. She’d been thirsty for control for too long to risk losing it again, no matter how badly she wanted to.

“Have I been on your mind this whole time?” Zoey asked with a smirk.

“...Maybe.” Rumi mumbled. Mira chuckled quietly. She needed to act if she wanted to keep herself out of her thoughts.

“Why don’t you show us?” Mira said.

Rumi turned her head to look at her, blinking. “What?”

“Show us what you do when you think about us.” Mira said, slow and mean. Rumi looked between them again. Mira took mercy on her and put a hand on her shoulder, gently twisting her and laying her down on her back with her head against the pillows. She dropped down to her elbow next to her and traced her fingers over Rumi’s stomach idly.

Zoey sat on her haunches at Rumi’s feet, hands sliding up her calves slowly, almost soothingly.

“I-...” she trailed off, then, “You want to… watch?”

Zoey hummed, her hands inching further up until they were touching the hem of her shorts. Mira could see the way the muscles in Rumi’s thighs twitched in response and had to resist the urge to sink her teeth into the meat of them.

“Can I take these off, baby?” Zoey asked, tugging on Rumi’s shorts slightly. Rumi nodded, her breath hitching when Mira’s hand slid under her shirt and along the muscles of her abdomen. She didn’t have to look to know where Rumi’s patterns were—she’d memorised them the first time they slept together, first with her hands and then with her lips and tongue—so it was easy enough to scratch lightly at the ones that curled across her ribs. Rumi twitched into the touch, her eyelids fluttering.

She looked away from Rumi’s face when she heard the sound of clothes hitting the floor, down past where her hand was still moving idly against her stomach to the patch of curls at the apex of her thighs. She wanted a taste, but Zoey clearly wanted control tonight, and she’d definitely earned it, so she’d wait. She’d do anything for them. Instead, she pushed her hand further up Rumi’s torso, pulling her shirt up and giving Zoey an eyeful of Rumi’s abs to boot.

“This, too.” Mira said low in Rumi’s ear as she pulled her shirt further up. Rumi crossed her arms over the hem of her shirt and pulled it over her head as Mira withdrew her hand and helped prop her up. With the shirt gone, she could freely admire the way Rumi’s patterns, glowing faintly with a soft pink light, trailed along her breasts, almost touching her nipples. It was a shame they didn’t. Her patterns were sensitive, and she wondered just how much more sensitive they’d have been somewhere like that.

Zoey’s hands were back on Rumi’s thighs, grip firm enough to dimple the skin but not so harsh it would leave marks—not yet, anyway. Rumi looked between them again, as if they might have changed their mind about their instructions. They hadn’t. They never gave an order they didn’t want Rumi to follow, and Rumi had never followed an order she genuinely didn’t want to.

Still, Mira sat up a little and said, “Colour?”

Rumi blinked, then gave her a grateful smile. “Green. Just nervous.”

“We’ll take care of you.” Mira soothed, giving her an appreciative kiss on her jaw before she settled back down against her side. From here she could tease Rumi and watch her hand, even if her view wasn’t going to be as good as Zoey’s was.

Rumi’s hand slid down her stomach slowly and Mira rested her chin in her palm to watch. Her eyes flicked up to Zoey’s when Rumi circled her clit slowly. Her pupils were blown out, but her mouth was set in a devious little smile that sent sparks of heat to Mira’s core.

She looked back down when she heard Rumi’s inhales become shakier. Her fingers still moved slowly.

Mira hummed. “I don’t think this is how you fuck yourself thinking about us, baby. Are you lying?” Rumi looked at her, the browns of her eyes almost hidden entirely by how blown out her pupils were. “Show us what you really do.”

Rumi whined softly, then muttered, “Assholes.”

The steady pulsing of her patterns gave her away. Both Mira and Zoey laughed, not unkindly, and Rumi’s lips curved into a small, genuine smile.

She felt Rumi’s knees twitch as she tried to close her legs, but Zoey held them open as she dipped her fingers into her arousal, wetting them before she pushed two inside of herself.

“Good.” Zoey crooned. “Always so obedient for us, aren’t you?”

Rumi gave a shaky nod, the pace of her fingers increasing. She leaned forwards and ghosted her lips over Rumi’s neck and Rumi tilted her head back to give her room to press her teeth to her pulse point. She felt Rumi’s responding moan low in her stomach, but she wouldn’t bite, not there. Not somewhere hard to hide. Instead she mouthed down to her collarbone and sucked the skin there until it left a deep red bruise for Rumi to admire later. Rumi’s free hand shot up to cup Mira’s face, encouraging, enabling.

Mira hummed against her skin and dipped her head lower-

“Mira.” Zoey said. She paused and tilted her head to look at her. “I’ve got a better use for your mouth, since I can’t use my hand.”

An unpleasant, oily guilt sank through the arousal, but Mira pushed through. She wasn’t going to stop the night over something like that, and she wanted Zoey to use her to get herself off, anyway. Instead, she gave the swell of Rumi’s breast a placating kiss, pushed her arm away, and sat up.

“C’mere.” Zoey said, patting the bed in front of her. Rumi watched with hungry eyes as Mira crawled past her over to Zoey and sat in front of her, almost obedient, almost the person she-

She forced her attention back to Zoey as she undressed herself, slowly, teasingly, eyes flicking over to Rumi to make sure she was still watching. Mira knew she was, she could feel the intensity of her stare on the side of her face. She did like attention, she always had, but these days she found she only really craved it from Rumi and Zoey, and that was something she never had to fight for.

Zoey lay back on her elbows. When Mira moved between her legs she stopped her from lying down by pulling her over by the collar of her shirt and into a kiss. Mira braced herself with her hands on either side of her hips, swiping her tongue across Zoey’s lower lip and licking into her mouth eagerly, swallowing the pleased gasps tumbling from her mouth. When she pulled back it was by necessity of needing to breathe, but she took the time to admire Zoey’s swollen lips and dark eyes too. She could hear Rumi’s fingers working.

“I want to taste you.” Mira said. It sounded a little whinier than she’d intended, but whatever. She was desperate for them. She didn’t mind them knowing.

Zoey hummed, almost amused. “Look at you, being so polite.”

“Zoey…” Mira warned.

“Go on. But only because Rumi’s not allowed to come until I do, and I don’t think she can wait that long.” Zoey said.

Mira glanced over to Rumi in time to see her eyes widen and her hand slow down.

“Wait, I- that isn’t-...” Rumi whined, breathless and needy.

“You’ll get a reward if you can wait for us.” Zoey soothed. Rumi swallowed and nodded. “You can slow down if you need to, but don’t stop.”

It was kinder than Mira would’ve been, so Rumi was lucky tonight.

Zoey gave Mira another kiss, softer this time, before tapping her shoulder. Mira slid down and nestled between her thighs, rucking her knees up over her shoulders to give herself better access. Zoey was glistening. She flicked her eyes up to her and pressed a kiss to her inner thigh, then another further up.

Zoey gave a breathless laugh. “You’re teasing Rumi more than you’re teasing me, y’know.”

Mira hummed, close enough to her folds that the exhale made Zoey’s legs twitch slightly. “Maybe I want to tease you both.”

“Don’t be a brat.” Zoey said, warning. “I know you’re just waiting for me to take what I want.”

God, she was. Rumi made a frustrated sound to her side. Mira had been about to call her impatient, like a hypocrite, but-

“Please.” Rumi whined. Mira lifted her head up a little to look at her, at the slow pace her fingers were setting, at her slack jaw, at the rise and fall of her chest, at how wet she was.

“Are you begging for Mira to eat me out? Do you like watching that much?” Zoey asked, voice catching on a mean little laugh.

“No, I-... I just want-... please.”

Rumi was so pretty when she begged.

“You need to ask Mir- oh, fuck.” Zoey was cut off by Mira lowering her head and dragging her tongue through her folds, slowly at first, savouring the taste of her. She wrapped her arms firmly around Zoey’s thighs. Mira wanted to make both of them fall apart now. She wanted to hear them.

She pulled back enough to say, “Use me. I’m yours.”

Before she could get a response, she flicked her tongue against Zoey’s clit then pressed her tongue inside of her eagerly. Zoey’s hand shot down to grab a handful of her hair and tugged sharply. The sharp sting of it spurred her on, made her press closer until her nose was nudging against Zoey’s clit.

Zoey’s hips bucked impatiently despite her pace, because Zoey was always greedy, always wanting more, so Mira slipped her tongue out and held it flat against her clit, letting her fuck herself against her, digging her nails into the meat of her thighs until Zoey moaned her name. Every sound, every tug against her hair, went straight to Mira’s cunt.

“So pretty when you’re- god- between my legs. Best place for you to be.” Zoey murmured, almost in awe. She always seemed to be surprised that Mira was willing to submit.

She watched Zoey’s head tilt back, still holding herself up with one elbow, the hand that wasn’t in her hair clawing into the bedsheets in a way that must have hurt, with her injury. To her side, she could hear the wet sounds of Rumi’s fingers and her breathy moans, she could hear when she slowed down, when she sped back up. She wondered how many times she’d already denied herself just because Zoey told her to, and Rumi was good and obedient. She could give up control completely.

Mira wrapped her lips around Zoey’s clit and sucked, sliding two fingers inside of her and curling upwards. She felt the bed shake slightly when Zoey’s arm gave out and she landed on her back. Or, upper back, because she was immediately arching into Mira’s mouth.

“Mira, fuck- don’t stop-” Zoey moaned.

She increased the pace with her fingers, rubbing them along Zoey’s inner wall, pushing her closer and closer to the edge until she clenched down hard around her with a long, low, gasping moan. She slowed down, easing her through the aftershocks, until Zoey tapped her head. She pressed a kiss to her thigh before she pulled away to admire her work.

Zoey’s chest heaved as she caught her breath. Mira ran her hands up and down her thighs lightly. For a moment she felt warm and satisfied, as if she’d been the one to get eaten out, but then a moan to her side grabbed her attention.

“Stop.” Zoey said quickly.

Rumi’s hand stilled inside herself immediately, though her hips twitched with the effort of staying still, and she furrowed her brow. “But I-... you said-...”

“I know. But you waited. Don’t you want your reward, pretty girl?” Zoey cooed, still breathless but pushing herself back up onto her elbows now. Mira glanced at the bandage around her hand and was relieved to see the wound hadn’t started bleeding again.

Rumi withdrew her hand from herself completely, and, god, she was soaked. She rested her trembling hand against her thigh, as if moving it too far away was unbearable, and looked between Zoey and Mira. “What’s my reward?”

“Want Mira to fuck you with the strap?” Zoey asked, almost casual, as if it wasn’t something that made both Rumi and Mira unbelievably horny. Mira was the reward. Before she could wrestle control over herself, Mira looked at Rumi pleadingly.

“Yeah- yes.” Rumi said, stumbling over her words slightly.

Zoey nudged Mira’s shoulder and Mira put a concerted effort into not scrambling off the bed in her eagerness. She could hear Zoey saying something to Rumi behind her as she stripped out of her clothes and retrieved the harness from her wardrobe and put it on, something soothing, maybe, or encouraging. She had done well. She picked the toy Rumi liked best and slipped it into the o-ring.

Zoey had moved to Rumi’s side to press lazy kisses to her neck and jaw. They both looked at her when she rejoined them, Zoey looking blissed out and pleased, Rumi looking glassy-eyed and desperate. She took some lube from her bedside table and applied it liberally, though she suspected she wouldn’t actually need it from the state of Rumi. Still, she wasn't going to take risks with Rumi's comfort.

She didn’t waste time, bracing one hand near Rumi’s head and lining herself up with her entrance with the other. She looked into Rumi’s eyes, waiting for her to give her permission. She was relieved she wasn’t made to wait long, because Rumi’s lips curved up into a tiny smile as she nodded.

There wasn’t any reason for her to do it, but she found herself looking at Zoey for permission as well. Her brain was feeling light and floaty in her skull. A tiny part of her tried to scramble for a sense of control, to pull her back to her senses, but it wasn’t louder than her animal need to please them both.

Zoey’s dopey smile flickered into something a little crueller, something that sent heat straight back to Mira’s core. She nearly whimpered at the sight of it.

“Use your words.” Zoey said slowly.

“Please, Zoey- I-” Rumi started, always obedient.

Zoey shook her head. “Not you. Mira, ask for permission.”

Mira stared at Zoey for a second, disbelieving. Not that she’d given the instruction, that wasn’t a surprise, but at just how badly she wanted to follow it.

“...Please.” Mira said, voice rough with need. At least she hadn’t whined.

“Please what?” Zoey asked, sing-song.

Then she whined. “Please let me- let me fuck her.”

Zoey hummed. “That’s more like it. Go on, make her feel good.”

She didn’t need any persuading. It took all of her self-control to push into Rumi slowly, to give her time to adjust to the stretch. She moved her hand to hold her hip, less to control her and more to stop her from bucking impatiently. She didn’t want her eagerness—or Mira’s own, for that matter—to get her hurt.

Rumi wrapped her arms around Mira’s neck and it grounded her, helped her keep her mind present instead of retreating all the way into that inviting emptiness.

She thrust into her slowly, reverently, as if she couldn’t believe she was allowed to do this even though she’d done it dozens of times before. She’d never been a religious person, but being used by Zoey and Rumi like this, making them feel good, being theirs, was as close as she’d ever felt.

“Mira-... more.” Rumi whined, and Mira obeyed. She increased her pace until she could hear the smacking of her hips against Rumi’s skin, just underneath the litany of whines and moans tumbling from Rumi’s mouth. In her periphery she saw Zoey’s hand slide down Rumi’s torso, down to her clit.

“God, you’re both so pretty. So needy.” Zoey said breathlessly. Mira fucked into Rumi harder, angling her hips until she struck the spot inside Rumi that made her moan so loud it was nearly a sob.

It didn’t take long for Rumi to come undone with Mira’s name on her lips. Rumi pulled her closer until her head was nearly buried in the crook of her neck as she fucked her through it.

Mira’s own orgasm caught her completely off guard. She hadn’t even noticed it building, too focused on Rumi’s pleasure. She groaned low in her throat as her hips stuttered, the pressure of the base of the strap against her oversensitive clit tumbling from pleasure to discomfort. She carefully pulled out of Rumi and rolled onto her back before she collapsed onto her.

“Did you just-... did you come just from fucking Rumi?” Zoey said brightly, right on the edge of teasing. She couldn’t exactly deny it, so Mira just gave a shaky nod. “Did she feel that good, or were you just desperate?”

Zoey appeared above her, straddling her, pressing herself against the head of the strap.

Normally Mira liked this. She liked it when Zoey teased, when she insulted her, when she pushed her buttons until she snapped back and wrestled for control. On a different day she might have flipped them over and fucked Zoey so hard the only word she could remember was ‘Mira’, or she might have fallen the other way and begged Zoey to take what she wanted, but her mind was floating too far away, and instead of feeling a spark of heat she felt a spark of something slow and unpleasant. Her brain wasn’t cooperating anymore.

“That was kinda pathetic, don’t you think?” Zoey said.

The fear had crept up on her as quickly as the orgasm had. She saw Zoey tilt her head, the mean little smile dropping from her face in an instant.

She felt like she was falling. She scrambled to stay in the present, to stay in control, to do anything, but her body wasn't listening to her brain's instructions, and her brain was off wandering into something soft and blissfully unaware anyway.

“Mira? Colour?” Zoey said, voice suddenly kind and gentle.

Instead of hitting the ground, she hit a safety net.

“Red. Fuck- red.” Mira choked out.

“Shit.” Zoey said softly, immediately climbing off her.

Mira curled onto her side, almost involuntarily. She fumbled with the buckles of the harness, hands unsteady and numb, because she suddenly couldn’t stand the sensation of it on her skin.

“Mira.” Rumi said, still a little foggy, but rapidly coming back to the present. A distant part of Mira felt guilty from pulling her out of that headspace so quickly. “Do you need help?”

“I-... please.” Mira said. She didn’t like how her voice was shaking, and she liked the way she flinched when Rumi and Zoey’s hands brushed hers away to help remove the harness even less.

“Can we touch you?” Zoey asked from somewhere in front of her once the harness was gone.

She wanted the answer to be yes, but it wasn’t. She closed her eyes tightly and shook her head. “Just-... just a minute. Just give me a minute.”

“Okay. Just take deep breaths.” Zoey said slowly. Mira wasn’t struggling to breathe, this wasn’t a panic attack, but she followed the instruction anyway.

Slowly, the fog vacated her mind and her senses trickled back in. Zoey and Rumi were sat in front of her, Zoey in one of Mira’s shirts and Rumi with the blanket over her lap. Rumi was watching her, but Zoey was picking at her bandaged hand.

“...Sorry.” Mira mumbled. “I don’t-... I don’t know what happened.”

Zoey looked up and smiled. “You don’t need to apologise. I went too far, I should’ve checked in sooner.”

Mira rolled onto her back, still feeling a little groggy and boneless, but also a lot calmer. “I would’ve said green like… five seconds earlier. I like it when you talk to me like that. You know I do.”

“It was when I called you pathetic, right? Is that-... I thought it was something I’d said before, but maybe not?” Zoey hedged.

Mira couldn’t remember, either. Zoey said a lot of things when they fucked, and none of it had upset Mira before.

“It was just… a lot. I think. Too much, with-...” she trailed off. She wasn’t sure what had made it too much.

“Can we touch you now?” Rumi asked softly.

“...Yeah. Please.” Mira said, and then she was being bracketed by both of them, cradled securely and safely in the warmth of their skin and the softness of the blanket as it was pulled over them. She exhaled shakily.

They didn’t push her for more information, which gave her brain time to supply it. Eventually, she said, “I think-... after I-... I was feeling a little... foggy, I guess. And then you said that, and it just…”

Rumi blinked slowly. “Oh.” Both Zoey and Mira looked at her. “Too little control, right? I know that you don’t like to uh- receive when you’re being talked to like that. But you-...” Rumi gestured vaguely to the harness, which had been hastily tossed from the bed as if that might have been the problem.

Mira considered it. She could give up control to them—she liked to give up control to them, even—but not all of it. She always needed to cling to that last piece, either because she was giving, or because she was in charge. She couldn’t let herself drift fully into that headspace that Rumi liked so much even if she wanted to—and she did want to—because she’d been fighting to have some control her entire life and having it taken from her was, frankly, terrifying.

In the past week she’d had so much control ripped from her, with her parents, with the talkshow, with the scandals that she was responsible for. Maybe it had just been a bad time to submit. Maybe she should’ve stayed in control all night. Zoey wouldn’t have minded.

“...Yeah. I think you’re right. Just… wrong night, wrong words.” Mira said. Rumi rested her head against Mira’s shoulder.

Zoey laced her fingers together with Mira’s. “Okay, so, lesson learned. No teasing after you come, and I’ll check in with you about control first,” she said plainly, because unlike Rumi she never shied away from the subject, especially when it came to Rumi and Mira's comfort and safety, “You feeling okay now?”

Mira considered that, too. She was. It hadn’t even taken a full minute to get her senses back, she didn’t think. It wasn’t like the time Rumi had called red and it had taken them nearly an hour to calm her down. A small part of her felt like she should feel bad for stopping them, but she didn’t. If anything, it was reassuring. Zoey had noticed something was wrong before Mira had even said anything. She had the feeling Zoey would’ve stopped even if she’d said green if her worried expression was anything to go by.

No matter how much control she gave up, she never really lost it. Not with Zoey and Rumi. It was a fact she already knew, because if she even got a hint that they were uncomfortable when she was in charge she’d stop everything immediately. They had as much control as she did, if not more, and she knew that, but she’d never been on the receiving end of needing to snatch that control back so suddenly.

She felt unexpectedly soothed by it.

“Yeah. I’m okay.” Mira said, and then, because it was true, "I love you."

Chapter Text

Rumi rested her cheek on her fist and tapped play again. Nothing had changed since the last time she watched it, but she kept hoping she’d find anything to make it clear that Zoey was just protecting Mira.

It had been recorded from across the street, too far away to catch more than snippets of the conversation when Mira’s voice raised. They’d started recording when Mira flinched, and while Rumi knew it was a flinch, without the preceding few seconds it just looked like she’d been moving.

The sight of Mira flinching just because her dad reached for her was a stake through Rumi’s heart. She wished Zoey had hit him harder. She wished she’d hit him, too. She hoped he never stopped feeling the ache. She hoped he flinched when people reached for him, just like Mira used to.

They hadn’t recognised her parents—they’d never even seen pictures of them—but Zoey had pointed out that Mira looked uneasy and they caught the tail end of the conversation as they approached.

The memory of her voice—the low, furious, agonised way she said “Is that why you’re here? To call me a-” before their arrival stopped the conversation—echoed like a relapse.

She’d heard her sound like that before, but not for a long time.

Rumi wanted to know what they’d been about to call her, but she knew the knowledge of it would make her sick. She wondered if every self-depreciating thing that fell from Mira's mouth had first fallen from theirs. Every time she called herself useless, or stupid, or violent, or worthless…

She'd spent her entire life learning to control her emotions, but putting the words to the source had made anger pulse through her veins so swiftly she’d been unable to fully contain it.

She watched herself move in front of Mira, watched Zoey press against her side. It wasn’t clear in the video, but she remembered her mother’s expression clearly. Mira looked so much like her—she looked like both of them, the same narrow features as her mom, the same slope to her nose as her dad, the same unimpressed arch to her brow—but it felt like they were reflected in a funhouse mirror, her mother’s face distorted by her barely concealed disgust, cold where Mira was warm and harsh where she was soft.

She couldn’t parse Mira’s dad’s expression at all.

She hadn’t noticed Mira trying to pull her back at the time—too focused on the threats in front of her, on her fear that this would remove all the progress Mira had tried so hard to make—so it had surprised her to see Mira tugging her arm the first time she watched it. Mira hadn’t offered an explanation for it, and Rumi hadn’t asked. Honestly, it’d be a surprise if she remembered why she wanted Rumi’s attention now anyway.

The next few seconds of the video were uninteresting. They were of Rumi posturing and Zoey echoing the warning. She could see the way Zoey's body shifted, the way she ducked her head down ever so slightly, a tiny bend to her knees. She knew the signs that Zoey was furious, all coiled muscle and a terrifying stillness that could only precede a flurry of motion.

Mira had said she wasn’t their daughter anymore, and Rumi had been so proud she’d nearly turned and kissed her right then and there.

Zoey’s punch was a lot faster in reality than it had felt at the time. Rumi took a step forwards to try and intimidate him, but then Zoey was in front of her and she was reaching out to try and stop her. She’d been conflicted about letting it happen. On the one hand, he deserved it. On the other hand, Zoey didn’t deserve the backlash. She hesitated, and then Zoey’s fist had collided with his mouth. It was less than two seconds between Rumi’s first movement and her pulling Zoey away.

A very costly two seconds.

The rest of the video was them leading Mira away while a crowd formed around her dad. She couldn’t blame anyone for it—to a passerby it absolutely looked like a completely random assault—but an ugly kind of anger reared its head at people not being able to read Mira like she could, not being able to see how scared she was.

Rumi pressed her fingers to her temple and closed her eyes. There really wasn’t any way to spin it without Mira explaining to the world that her family was abusive and Zoey was just defending her, and Mira had categorically said no to that. Even if she did explain, it was, technically, an unprovoked attack.

At least they’d been easy to convince to not press charges. Mira came from old money—something Rumi had learned in the days afterwards—but they didn’t have money like Huntr/x did, and whatever Bobby had said to them had made them back down before they even tried.

The issue was reputational damage now. If it had been Rumi, fine, she had such a clean reputation that it could take the hit, but people were always looking for dirt on Mira and Zoey. Even though they hadn’t really acted out since their early years, every mistake they’d made followed them doggedly. It just came with the territory.

Maybe Bobby could’ve fixed this, but the timing couldn’t have been more awful. Between the article about her and Mira being caught kissing and them coming out as not only queer but also being in a polyamorous relationship, they were all news outlets wanted to talk about. Plenty of people supported them, but too many didn’t, and the ones who didn’t were digging for more reasons to hate them.

She applied pressure to the fingers at her temple until it became painful, groaned, and opened her eyes. Bobby gave her an attempt at a soothing smile from where he sat across the table, but it was too tired of an expression to really be effective.

He’d come to visit them in the tower but they were having the meeting in one of the offices on the lower floors, just in case it became too much for Mira and she needed to go back to the penthouse. The air con was on slightly too high—or Rumi was just still getting used to having her arms out—and it was giving Rumi goosebumps.

She heard Mira pop her knuckles next to her. It wasn’t a surprise she was nervous.

“Look, I don’t mind taking a hit for this.” Zoey said when the silence grew too thick. “They’re not pressing charges. If people wanna think I’m-”

“No.” Mira said firmly.

Rumi sighed, pushing the pad of her middle finger into her temple firmly again. “Mira, something’s got to bend.”

Mira grunted and leaned back in her chair and Rumi had to bite back her frustration so she could mitigate it into something calmer.

“I’m not letting Zoey take the fall for this.” Mira said.

“It’s not ‘taking the fall’ if it was something I actually did.” Zoey said. She was sounding a little tired, too.

Bobby drummed his fingers on the table. He was being very patient with them, he always was, but this had to be grating on him by now. Two scandals and revealing their relationship in one week, plus having to get an interview pulled…

“The best thing to do would be to tell everyone who they are. It wouldn’t negate the fact that Zoey hit him unprovoked—I know it was justified, I agree with you—but at least it would put it into perspective.” Bobby said. “I’m sorry, girls, I just don’t think we can bury this."

Rumi could hear the soft, anxious thudding of Mira tapping the heel of her boot against the carpeted floor and the slightly offset sound of Zoey doing the same.

“It’s not anyone else’s business who they are.” Mira said after a while. Rumi sighed through her nose.

“I know. I won’t do anything without your go-ahead, but Mira…” Bobby trailed off, scratching the stubble on his jaw, “You have to decide how you want to handle this. If you want to leave it as it is, we can do that, but if you want to do something we need to start soon or the choice is being made for us.”

Us. Because Bobby wouldn’t abandon them even if Zoey had sent Mira’s parents to the hospital. He’d have stuck around to help if she’d killed them. She wondered when he’d stopped being their manager and started being part of the family.

Mira folded her arms across her chest and sank into her chair a little, worrying her lip between her teeth.

Things hadn’t been like this for a long time, not since the first few awkward months of them meeting. She understood—if anyone could understand it’d be her—what it was to have your secrets dragged to the surface against your will, and she knew she was being a hypocrite, but it was just so frustrating to watch her fall back into old habits like this.

It was even worse when Zoey was going to end up being hurt over it. She probably wasn’t lying when she said she was fine with it, but that was the problem. Zoey would do anything for them, no matter what the personal cost, and it wasn’t fair of them to take advantage of that.

“I just-... I’m sorry. I know I should just tell everyone, but-... I mean… ugh.” Mira groaned.

It had taken her years to even tell Rumi and Zoey about the way she was raised. They’d figured out most of it by themselves before she’d said anything. Telling Celine and Bobby had only been by necessity.

She thought back to their conversation about coming out, about how Mira had watched their faces and then found the exact right thing to say to them to soothe both of their worries—that they weren’t something to be ashamed of. She wished she could return the favour so easily. But then, Mira had also said…

Rumi dropped her hand to the table and faced Mira. “Okay. Whatever happens here is your choice, Mira. If it damages our reputation, fine. If it’s difficult, then let it be difficult. You get to choose how we handle this.”

Mira blinked at her, then narrowed her eyes a little. Rumi’s lips quirked up into a self-satisified smirk.

“Are you using my own words against me?” Mira said slowly.

“Yep.” Rumi responded. “They’re good words.”

Zoey laughed. “She’s got you there, Mira.”

Mira rolled her eyes, but Rumi knew her well enough to see the fondness underneath.

“She’s right, though. If you don’t know just yet, it’s fine.” Zoey said, and then to Bobby, “Right?”

It wasn’t, really. They needed to decide what to do, but Mira’s comfort came first. They’d already sealed the honmoon. Their reputation wasn't a matter of global safety anymore. They could take a few hits.

Bobby looked between them—Rumi felt a spike of guilt, again, for making him handle all of this—and said, “Yeah, of course. The sooner I know the better, but I do understand this is hard for you.”

Mira's shoulders slumped and she unfolded her arms, letting her hands fall back into her lap. Rumi reached out to take her hand under the table, but her knuckles bumped into the coarse fabric of a bandage. She snorted lightly and rested her hand over Zoey's instead.

The air con buzzed overhead, a soft hum that acted like white noise and made the quiet between them feel less heavy.

“Okay.” Bobby said after a while. “We'll put a pin in it for a few days. There's one other thing to consider.”

Mira looked at Bobby warily. “Yeah?”

“This is a bit less time sensitive, but it would make things easier.” he said, leaning back in his chair and looking up at the corner of the room. Rumi was willing to wait for him to figure out how to word it, but-

“Bobby, what is it?” Mira asked tersely. Rumi felt Zoey's hand twitch as she gave Mira's a squeeze.

“I think you should consider a restraining order against your parents.” he said quickly, as if he was afraid he'd be interrupted.

Rumi had suggested the same thing once, back when Mira told them what her parents were really like. She'd said she wanted to think about it and then never brought it up again.

“Why would that make things easier? They're scared of Zoey now. They won't come back.” Mira said evenly. Rumi caught Zoey's pleased smirk in her periphery and had to smother her own before it formed.

“It's more that it would stop them from speaking to reporters. Of course, it would limit us a little too. If we did anything to provoke them it'd be off the table.” Bobby said. “If we take that route it would be best all we say in a statement is that they're family members and it was a domestic dispute.”

With a little stab of shame Rumi realised just how little she understood about this sort of thing. She should've done more research when she'd suggested it to Mira the first time. Celine said they'd have professionals to handle it so it wasn't something Rumi needed to learn and she'd never questioned it, but now it felt very important that she knew every single detail, actually, or Mira might make the wrong choice. If there even was one.

In an ideal world she'd get a week to read everything she could on the subject and make a spreadsheet measuring out the pros and cons of every option available to them, and then she could present it to Mira in colour coordinated columns so she could make the most educated decision possible.

She looked at Mira to try and gauge if that was something she'd want and was snapped out of her thoughts by the way Mira's eyes had gone glassy and distant.

She was probably weighing up the pros and cons in her head already and finding every result wanting.

“Can I-” Mira croaked, then cleared her throat and tried again, “Can I have a few days?”

Maybe she did need the spreadsheet.

“You can have as long as you need.” Bobby said soothingly, and then, when Mira only swallowed and nodded, “Why don't we call it quits here for today, and I'll give you a call tomorrow?”

“Good idea.” Zoey said. Rumi felt her squeeze Mira's hand again, and then she was gently coaxing her to her feet. Rumi followed obediently, but put a hand on Bobby's shoulder as she passed his seat and mouthed “Thank you.”

He gave her a smile that only sort of reassured her.

It had been a few days, and Mira still hadn’t made a decision.

Zoey was starting to feel frustrated.

She was mostly frustrated that she’d put Mira in this position to begin with. She didn’t regret hitting Mira’s dad—he could rot—but she did regret the backlash. She wished Mira would just let her take responsibility, but it was so ingrained into her to be the protector that she’d never learned how to sit her dumb ass down and let herself be protected for once.

She was a little bit frustrated that Mira rejected any attempt Rumi and Zoey made to go over her options again. She’d thought Rumi’s spreadsheet idea was cute, in that bizarre way Rumi often was, but when she’d asked Mira if she’d like that Mira had stared at her blankly for nearly a full thirty seconds and only stopped because Rumi had started squirming under the intensity of it.

She hadn’t actually said no, so Zoey was currently watching Rumi format an excel spreadsheet. She’d started at the island counter, but Zoey had told her to come and sit in her lap so she could help and now Rumi was nestled between her thighs. The air blowing out the side of the laptop was warm against Zoey’s leg.

The problem was that Mira seemed to think accepting help made you weak—but only when it came to herself.

Zoey wrapped her arms around Rumi’s waist lightly and rested her chin on her shoulder. She was trying out a new shampoo and Zoey could smell it just underneath her perfume. It was nice. Different, but not bad. The bottle had said orchid on it, but that was pretty vague as far as aromas went. Still, it was light and floral and it suited her.

She closed her eyes and let the clicking of Rumi’s rapid typing sooth her. She should’ve joined Mira for a nap, but she hadn’t felt tired earlier. She wasn’t even sure she felt tired now, she just felt comfortable and warm.

Rumi’s arm brushed against her hand. Her knuckles were healing well—the bandage had only needed to stay on for a few days—but they were still tender enough for the sudden contact to startle her.

“Sorry, sweetheart.” Rumi murmured, softly as if she wasn’t sure if Zoey was even awake or not.

“S’okay.” Zoey said.  She opened her eyes slowly and looked down at her hand. The bruise was a mottled grey-purple colour now, intersected with the angry red scab where teeth had sunk down to bone. The skin of her knuckles pulled taut when she flexed her fingers and she welcomed the resulting bloom of pain—more of an echo of pain, really— because if her hand still hurt his face must’ve still hurt too.

Rumi paused her typing. “Sore?”

“Kinda. Still worth it, though.” Zoey mused.

She felt Rumi’s chuckle as much as she heard it, a warm rumble spreading from Rumi’s back to Zoey’s chest. She rested her cheek on Rumi’s shoulder and buried her face into the crook of her neck. It wasn’t for any particular reason, she just liked being close.

Rumi carried on typing, and occasionally clicking. They’d both known when Zoey called her over that she didn’t really have any intention to help. She’d mostly done it with the malicious intent to cuddle. Organisation was Rumi’s thing. Still, she liked learning anything new.

“Anything standing out?” Zoey mumbled into Rumi’s neck.

Rumi exhaled slowly. “A lot of them would involve going to court, and I… really don’t think Mira will want to do that.”

“Definitely not.” Zoey agreed.

Really, all of the options would be laid out if she spoke to a lawyer. Zoey knew full well Rumi was mostly doing this for her own peace of mind and because she needed to feel like she was doing something to help, anything to take some of the pressure off of Mira.

Rumi stopped typing again, for long enough this time that Zoey un-buried herself from her neck and looked at her.

“Mira…?” Rumi said softly.

Zoey followed her gaze over to Mira, standing awkwardly in the hallway with her phone in her hand. Her hair was loosely tied back, messy like she’d just woken up. She hoped that was why her eyes looked so glassy, too.

“Um.” Mira said, voice a little rough in a way that could have been from sleep or could have been from crying. Zoey sat up straight immediately. “My brother wants to meet with me.”

Rumi put the laptop on the coffee table slowly. “Do you want to meet with him?”

The answer was going to be no, obviously. Mira never had anything good to say about him. She was surprised he’d even managed to get in contact with her-

“I think so?” Mira said cautiously.

Zoey’s thoughts came to a screeching halt. That was the most unexpected thing Mira had said in months.

“I mean, I don’t, but I-... I feel like I should. I don’t know.” Mira said, looking up at the ceiling instead of at their faces. Before either of them could respond she added, “Could you come with me?”

Nevermind, that was the most unexpected thing Mira had said in months. She’d been keeping Rumi and Zoey far away from her family the entire time they’d known each other. On the rare occasion she had to speak to anyone related to her by blood she’d gone alone and come back miserable.

“Of course.” Rumi said, making Zoey realise she hadn’t answered.

“Yeah, yeah, obviously. Whatever you want.” Zoey added.

Mira’s shoulders dropped and she exhaled shakily. “We’re meeting tomorrow. He’s, uh-... he’s gonna come here. Not up here.” she added quickly, as if either of them would’ve said no if Mira wanted him to come to the penthouse.

It made sense for him to meet them here, anyway. It was away from prying eyes, and it was Mira’s home turf, a place where she could easily have him kicked out if things went south. She’d clearly put a lot of thought into it.

The next morning, Mira made the decision to call Bobby to the building as well. He wasn’t going to sit in the room with them, but Mira had said she was going to give him her decision afterwards. Zoey wasn’t sure if that meant she’d already made it, or whatever happened with her brother was going to be the deciding factor. She supposed she’d find out.

As always, Rumi had planned everything out. They’d meet in one of the offices on the lower floors, like they met with Bobby. She hadn’t told Mira, but Zoey had overheard her speaking with security. Her brother was going to sit on the far side of the room so the three of them could sit by the door. It sounded like it was an intimidation tactic, but Zoey knew her better. This was so that Mira could leave whenever she wanted without having to walk past him. It was protecting her, clean and simple.

Zoey fell in love with both of them a little more each day.

“You don’t have to see him, Mira. It’s not too late for you to change your mind.” Rumi was saying soothingly, running her thumb over the knuckles of Mira’s hand.

“Not too late to send us away, either.” Zoey added, hand hovering over the button for the third floor. She wanted to give Mira one last chance before she pressed it.

“I know.” Mira said. So that was that, then. Zoey pushed the button and stood at Mira’s other side, pressed against her arm just to feel the warmth of her skin. She wasn’t shaking like she’d been when her parents had shown up, which was good. A day wasn’t a long time to prepare, but it was longer than she’d had then.

Rumi and Mira nodded politely to the security guard standing by the elevator when they arrived at the third floor. Zoey gave him a wave with her fingers and his mouth twitched up into a smile. He’d been working there for a few years now. Zoey liked him. He had jokes. She was glad he was on shift today. He was someone they knew for sure wouldn’t say a word if this went badly.

Mira led them to the office and, surprisingly, didn’t hesitate to open the door.

Her brother wasn’t what Zoey expected. He was handsome in the way old money families usually were—clean cut, smartly dressed, perfect posture—and held himself with that same sense of superiority her parents had, but something felt different about him. Maybe he was just uncomfortable being in Mira’s territory, or maybe she hadn’t told him Rumi and Zoey would be there too.

“Jong-su.” Mira said by way of greeting.

“Mira.” he said back. His voice wasn’t as nice as hers.

Mira sat in the seat opposite his and Rumi and Zoey took their natural places either side of her. If he didn’t know they were going to be there he was hiding it well.

“You look-” he started.

Mira cut him off. “Why did you want to meet?”

He pursed his lips as if he didn’t like being interrupted. Zoey found herself making a note of it.

“I saw your announcement,” he said. Zoey felt Mira stiffen at her side, and then a hand was on her knee, squeezing tightly. Zoey put her hand over Mira’s as he said, “Congratulations…?”

Zoey furrowed her brow. That wasn’t the reaction she expected from him, based on what little they’d been told.

“Is that seriously all you wanted to say?” Mira said hotly. In her periphery, she saw Rumi take Mira’s other hand in her own. They were here to keep her safe and grounded, that was all. Mira hadn’t asked them to do anything else, and Zoey’s impulsiveness had already caused them enough problems.

Her brother—Jong-su—exhaled through his nose and leant back in his chair slightly. “No. I saw the video as well.”

His eyes flicked over to Zoey’s, and she met his stare evenly. She dared him to have a problem with it.

“I’m not apologising, and neither is she.” Mira said firmly. Zoey could feel her nails against her knee.

The air con rattled in the ceiling above them.

“What did you do to set him off this time?” he asked eventually.

Mira bristled. Zoey squeezed her hand, but this time it was to ground herself. Everything about the sentence sank into her like poison.

“Nothing.” Mira bit out. “I didn’t do anything.”

Mira had always been a defensive person, but something about this kind of defence made Zoey feel sick. She could imagine a child who was afraid of being hit saying it in the exact same tone.

“He was insulting her.” Rumi said evenly. “Mira barely said anything.”

Jong-su looked at Rumi for a moment, then back to Mira. “...Okay, so why did your- girlfriend hit him?”

Zoey caught the way he stumbled over the word, but at least he hadn’t spat it at them like she’d expected.

“...Because he was insulting her.” Zoey said slowly when she realised the question was largely aimed at her. She didn’t think it had to be said. Mira’s hand relaxed against her knee, just a fraction.

Jong-su nodded slightly—approvingly?— and it made Zoey feel a little uneasy. She didn’t know where the conversation was going anymore. She’d come here expecting to leave after a few minutes.

“How is he?” Mira asked. Zoey could pick up on what she was really asking.

Does it still hurt? Did he keep all his teeth? Is he scared now?

He exhaled a bitter laugh. “Angry. The bruise hasn’t gone away yet. He won’t leave the house until it does.”

Zoey wondered how many times had Mira been made to go to school with bruises on her arms.

“...Have you moved out?” Mira said. It wasn’t quite concerned, but there was an edge of worry to it.

Jong-su noticed it too. He blinked at her slowly as if he hadn’t been expecting it. “Last year.”

“Did he-...” Mira trailed off.

Silence stretched between them.

Her brother was as hard to read as her parents had been, but Zoey thought the way he was looking at her now was knowing, almost sad. There was a slight furrow to his brow. His eyes flicked between Rumi and Zoey.

“No.” he said quietly.

Zoey had to bite back a wince at the way Mira’s nails dug into the skin of her knee, even through her trousers.

She had to bite it back even harder at the awful, angry laugh that left Mira’s mouth before she spoke, “Guess it was just me who pissed him off enough to get hit, then.”

“You know that isn’t true.” Jong-su said.

“Do you regret it?”

He sighed. “Regret what?”

“Letting me take the hits for you.”

“You know I-” he started.

Mira cut him off. “But you still made me do it.”

“I said sorry!”

Mira scoffed and rolled her eyes.

It felt voyeuristic to sit and listen. It was the sort of argument that was held behind closed doors, hissed between snarling teeth so the neighbours didn’t hear. It wasn’t the sort of argument that happened in a pristine office.

After a while Mira spoke again. “I didn’t want apologies, I wanted my brother.”

Zoey’s heart broke for her. She looked over to Rumi and saw that she was watching Mira’s face. She knew that look. It was a look that said she was searching the deck for the right card. Rumi wanted to end the conversation, for Mira’s sake. Zoey caught her eye and shook her head slightly and was relieved when Rumi acquiesced.

“I can’t go back and change things, Mira.” he said coldly, crossing his arms over his chest in a way that was uncomfortably familiar.

“I know. That’s why I stopped talking to you.” Mira said firmly, then, “What do you want?”

The silence stretched like a shadow.

“I wanted to tell you I’m proud of you for standing up to him.” Jong-su said slowly, like he was unsure.

It sucked all the air out the room.

“...What?” Mira croaked. If Zoey’s heart had broken before it was bleeding now, an open and weeping wound that soaked through her anger and softened it. She ached for her. Nobody should sound so surprised to hear that from a member of their family.

“I never could. Obviously,” he said, then glanced between Rumi and Zoey again. “And I’m glad you two are taking care of her.”

Neither of them said anything. It felt wrong to acknowledge kind words from him, knowing what they knew about how he threw Mira to the wolves to save his own skin. The little surge she always felt when she got a compliment was mixing with the guilt for feeling it and turning sour in her stomach.

Mira’s face was very blank. Zoey knew that expression, too. It screamed that she was feeling too many emotions to process any of them and had swung around into not feeling anything at all. She always did have such big emotions. Zoey wished her family hadn’t taught her to hide them.

“Okay.” Mira said simply, and then, “Congratulations on getting engaged.”

He stared at her for a moment, his expression just as blank—maybe even for the same reason—and said, “Thanks.”

For a moment they just stared at each other, then Mira freed her hands from both Rumi’s and Zoey’s and got to her feet. They followed obediently into the lobby and tried not to watch Jong-su as he left a minute later.

As soon as the elevator doors closed behind him and the security guard, Mira pulled both of them into a hug with such force that it made Zoey squeak. She ducked her head down and pressed it into the space where Zoey and Rumi’s shoulders touched. Zoey buried her face into Mira’s shoulder too.

“How are you feeling?” Rumi asked softly.

Mira inhaled deeply, then stood back upright, dislodging Zoey in the process. “I’ll… tell you when I figure it out.”

“We can postpone the meeting with Bobby if you want.” Zoey said.

Mira shook her head.

“No, I know what I want to do now.”

Chapter Text

Mira decided to make a public statement.

Actually, she decided to let Rumi make a statement and post it through her account, because every time she tried to write something the back of her head started tingling unpleasantly and she couldn’t get anything out. Rumi had taken the job happily, but she’d made Mira sit with her while she wrote it so she could get her input. In the end she’d given Mira several versions to pick from, all variations of simply confirming that the footage was of a domestic dispute, the people in it were her parents, and Zoey was acting in defense of Mira.

It was all she could say, because she’d also agreed to speak to a lawyer about her options for a restraining order—against her parents, but not her brother.

She'd left the conversation conflicted and unsettled, and she had no real interest in speaking to him further, but she was glad she’d spoken to him. As angry as it had made her, the confirmation her father hadn't started beating him again because the easy target had left the building soothed her guilt. She’d hated Jong-su when she left, but at least he hadn't suffered for her actions.

It felt a little like closure, like she could finally finish that chapter and move forwards into the life she wanted—the one she spent with Rumi and Zoey.

Bobby told her he was proud of her when she spoke to him about it. The memory of the way it warmed her heart was mixed with the absolute embarrassment of her accidentally calling him dad a few seconds later, and the strange tangle of emotions she’d felt when he’d only hugged her in response.

Zoey and Rumi hadn’t teased her about it at all, which was nice of them. In fact, they’d been extremely gentle about the whole thing, even when she was refusing to make a decision. It was sweet of them to protect her like that—from the talk show host, from her parents, from her brother, from herself.

She rinsed the mug she was washing—Zoey’s favourite, shaped like a turtle and decidedly not dishwasher safe—free of suds and slotted it into the drying rack carefully.

It had been two weeks since then, and Mira was still surprised about it all. Not that any of it had happened, of course. She’d never been an especially lucky person, so of course all of her bad luck would collide with her in the same week. It sucked, but at least she’d had her girlfriends to pull her through it.

Something else that had been on her mind was when she’d called red.

Obviously they’d stopped. If she thought they were the sort of people who wouldn’t she wouldn’t even be friends with them, much less head-over-heels in love with them. What had surprised her, and what still surprised her, was how she’d felt afterwards. How she’d let that feeling of safety, of knowing she’d be caught if she fell, carry her through making one of the most difficult decisions of her life.

It was funny that realising it was safe to let go of her control as long as Rumi and Zoey were nearby was what prompted her to finally take control of her childhood.

Not ha-ha funny, but a little funny nonetheless.

The biggest surprise of all was that Mira had spent all day trying to think of the best way to ask them to do it again. She didn't want to run from it this time, she wanted to give them everything they'd trusted her with. She was safe in their arms, and she wanted to just give in. She was so fucking tired of scrambling for control-

“Yeah, I thought that wall was super interesting too.” Zoey mused from beside her.

Mira nearly leapt out of her skin. She made a sad attempt at disguising it by taking a deep breath and exhaling with, “Jesus, Zoey-”

“Rumi likes to direct her thousand yard stares at the ceiling, though.” she continued conversationally.

Mira snorted with amusement. “And where do you stare?”

Zoey giggled and nudged her away from the sink to refill her water bottle. “I mix things up, keep it fresh.”

“Wouldn't want to get bored.” Mira said with a nod.

“Exactly! You always get me.”

She patently did not, but she loved how completely bizarre Zoey was, and she’d play along with whatever bit she was doing.

Zoey turned to face her and tilted her head. “You okay?”

Mira placed her hands on Zoey's waist lightly and kissed the tip of her nose. “I'm good. Just thinking.”

“About what?” Zoey asked, looping her arms around Mira's neck seemingly on instinct alone.

“Mmh. Lawyer stuff at first.” Mira said with a hint of a groan. She wished she could just tell Bobby to deal with all of it, but he'd have only told her he needed her input anyway.

“And then…?” Zoey coaxed, swaying her hips slightly as if there were music. Mira found herself swaying alongside her.

She had planned to respond, but then she was looking into Zoey’s big brown doe eyes, at her freckles, at the way her soft expression and softer smile dimpled her cheeks, and suddenly she couldn’t think about anything else. She leaned down to catch Zoey in a loving kiss.

Zoey made a pleased humming sound against her lips and pushed up into it, kissing back lazily. “That's not an answer.” she murmured.

It actually was, but she’d figure it out eventually. She twisted them both and pushed Zoey’s hips against the kitchen counter lightly.

Zoey laughed teasingly. “Oh, did washing dishes really get you going?”

“Zoey…” Mira warned, but she wasn’t even trying to hide her smile.

“It’s not a kink I’ve heard of, but-”

Mira interrupted her with another kiss. It worked for a few moments, but then-

“Did putting your hand in something warm and wet remind you of-”

She resorted to more drastic measures, mouthing down Zoey's neck and dragging her tongue across her pulse point, up to her ear—pausing to bite lightly at her earlobe—and whispering, “Do you want to talk, or do you want to kiss?”

Zoey gave a shaky exhale. “Kiss. Definitely kiss.”

Mira hummed her approval and pulled her back into a kiss. Zoey’s tongue flicked across her lip and Mira gave in immediately, parting them and letting the kiss deepen until it was almost feverish. She pushed Zoey more firmly against the counter, then slotted her thigh between her legs and pulled at her hips. Zoey gasped into her mouth, but she hadn’t needed the encouragement because as soon as she had something to grind down on she was rolling her hips in slow, languid movements, completely at odds with the intensity of the kiss.

That just wouldn’t do.

Mira broke the kiss and put her lips back against Zoey’s neck, pressing featherlight kisses against the sensitive skin there—and her neck was sensitive—until she tilted her head back and gave her better access to swipe her tongue across her skin. Zoey’s breath hitched, and then a hand tangled in the back of Mira’s hair and pulled her closer until her teeth were pressed against her.

Who was Mira to deny Zoey anything?

Her lips grazed against her as she moved her mouth down to the crook of her neck and sank her teeth in, not hard enough to be dangerous, but hard enough to make Zoey whine and her hips jolt. She wished there were fewer layers of clothes in the way so she could feel just how much she was affecting her, but she didn’t need to feel it to know anyway. Especially not when Zoey outright moaned as she swapped from biting to sucking at the tender skin, then licking the bruise that formed soothingly.

“Mira…” Zoey whined, bucking her hips against her thigh and tightening her grip in her hair. Mira pushed her hands underneath Zoey’s shirt, ghosting up the warmth of her torso until her fingertips brushed her ribs, then scratching lightly back down to her hips, feeling the way her muscles twitched in response to the threat.

Suddenly the hand that had been in her hair was on her jaw and forcing her head back up so she was looking into Zoey’s blown out pupils, and then they were kissing again, all teeth against teeth and tongues against tongues. It was a kiss so all-consuming it left Mira feeling winded when it broke.

Without warning, Mira placed her hands on the backs of Zoey’s thighs and lifted her up. As always, Zoey immediately wrapped her legs around her hips. She looked down at her and her swollen lips curved into a sly grin.

“I like the view from up here.” Zoey said, leaning down to catch Mira in another, much briefer kiss, but only because Mira pulled away first.

“Which room is Rumi in?” Mira asked breathlessly.

Zoey blinked, then grinned. “Her own.”

Mira carried Zoey around the kitchen island and down the hallway to the bedrooms. Zoey shifted to the side so she could see where she was walking but, honestly, she’d done this enough. She knew the way.

When she got to Rumi’s door she kicked it lightly instead of knocking.

“It’s not locked.” Rumi said, muffled through the walls.

Just as Mira realised she couldn’t actually open the door while she was carrying something so precious, Zoey reached behind herself and pushed the handle down clumsily.

She walked over to Rumi’s bed and dropped Zoey onto it—who made a soft oof sound—without any comment.

Rumi slowly put her phone on her bedside table and unfolded from where she was curled up until she was sitting upright. “Uh… hello?”

Mira could see the pieces snapping into place in Rumi’s brain as she eyed them over. Zoey was a very pretty mess, and Mira was probably a mess as well.

Zoey rolled onto her side, propped herself up on her elbow, and said, “Mira’s horny.”

Mira choked on her own spit.

Rumi blinked owlishly, then said, “...Oh.”

“Felt rude to not invite you to join.” Mira added when she recovered, because there was no point in denying it.

Rumi’s ears turned pink before the rest of her face did, but she was familiar enough with their antics by now to exhale a laugh instead of being too flustered.

“This is less of an invitation and more of a hostage situation.” Rumi mused.

“Do you want us to leave?” Mira drawled. It was a genuine question, but she had a feeling she knew the answer from the way soft pink lights danced up and down the patterns on her neck and face.

Rumi pretended she had to think about it anyway. “...No, you can stay.”

Zoey shuffled closer, putting a hand on Rumi’s knee. “Are you sure?” she teased. “We can just cuddle. Maybe a little tuggle.”

Mira’s human brain nudged her horny brain aside and prompted her to say, “Sincerely, what the hell does that mean?”

“Y’know, like a cuddle and tug? Like when you spoon one of us and then you get handsy and sappy and fuck us all soft and slow.” Zoey said easily.

Mira blinked. She ran the scenario through her head, then gave Zoey an incredulous look. “Do you mean a fucking reach-around?”

“Tuggle is cuter.” Zoey said with a shrug. It didn’t even make sense, they weren’t tugging anything-

Rumi groaned and scrubbed her hand down her face. “I’m begging you to not call it that.”

Zoey laughed, delighted. “Nah, you’re not begging yet.”

Now Rumi was blushing, her whole face tinting pink as her patterns pulsed.

It really was a testament to how pretty Zoey was that both Rumi and Mira were still turned on.

Mira knelt on the bed next to Rumi and cupped her jaw, because if she didn’t do something soon Zoey would keep going. Rumi smiled at her and, despite the fact that they’d been dating for a while now, Mira’s heart still kicked in her chest at the sight of it.

“Can I kiss you?” Mira asked. She knew the answer would be yes, but she liked the way the words felt on her tongue.

Rumi hummed and tucked a strand of hair behind Mira’s ear. “Whenever you want to.”

Mira leaned down and kissed her, much softer than she’d kissed Zoey. There’d be time for that later. She could feel Rumi’s smile against her mouth and, were it not for the needy heat growing between Mira’s legs, she’d have been willing to stay there and kiss Rumi like that all night.

The bed dipped as Zoey shuffled up to Rumi’s other side, and Rumi’s breath hitched. She pulled away from the kiss to see that Zoey was teasing the hem of Rumi’s shirt with her fingertips.

“Do you want to join?” Zoey asked.

Rumi turned her head to give Zoey a warm kiss as well before answering. “Yes.”

Zoey turned her attention to Mira. “How much control do you want?”

Mira licked her lips and swallowed. She wasn’t nervous to tell them, exactly, but she was feeling something about it. She trusted them and they took care of her, though, so her voice stayed even when she said, “None.”

They both looked at her curiously—and a little cautiously, which was a fair reaction.

“None like you want to be told what to do?” Zoey asked slowly.

Mira shook her head. “No, I mean, none. I want-... I trust you. Both of you. I want to just…”

“Give in? Turn your thoughts off?” Rumi offered.

Mira gave her a grateful smile and nodded. “Yeah, that.”

“Are you sure?” Zoey asked.

“I am.” Mira said firmly.

Rumi lifted her hand to stroke Mira’s arm. “Promise you’ll tell us if that changes?”

Mira nodded and then, because words were better, said, “I promise.”

They both looked at her searchingly, and Mira let them. If it soothed them to see on her face that she really did want to try to do this, fine. After a few moments Zoey nodded, then leaned over Rumi to pull Mira into another kiss. She didn’t really need to brace herself, but she trailed her fingers along Rumi’s neck and flattened her palm against her collarbone anyway. Her skin was warm to the touch, soft and supple where the fine bones of her torso didn’t press against the surface, a steadying contrast to the sharpness of Zoey’s teeth as she bit at Mira’s lower lip and pressed her unyielding tongue into her mouth.

The kiss broke when Zoey pushed her back slightly, a sly grin on her face. Her voice was almost sweet when she said, “I know what we’re doing tonight, then.”

It made Mira shiver anyway.

“I’m going to grab some stuff. Get Rumi warmed up for me.” Zoey said, pulling away from both of them and getting off the bed.

Distantly Mira appreciated that they were starting with something she was more familiar with—being used for Rumi’s pleasure. More presently she felt frustrated at the idea that she was only ‘warming her up’, but probably not as frustrated as Rumi was about to be. Zoey loved to tease, and she especially loved to tease Rumi.

Mira waited in case Zoey had further instructions, but when the door clicked shut behind her she turned back to Rumi, cupped her jaw, and leaned in to kiss her, since she hadn’t given her nearly enough kisses today. Rumi seemed to agree with how eagerly she kissed back, pushing the kiss from soft to needy so quickly that Mira nearly whimpered.

Rumi slid her hands underneath the back of Mira’s shirt and trailed her fingers up, whining softly into the kiss and digging her nails into Mira’s back, sending little sparks of pain through her that coiled around her arousal and amplified it. Her fingers caught on Mira’s bra, then tugged lightly at the clasp as if she even had to ask for permission.

Mira pulled away for just long enough to pull her shirt over her head and toss it aside, and then they were kissing again. Rumi’s hands returned to where they had been and she deftly unclasped Mira’s bra with two fingers, and then that was thrown somewhere into the mystery of the room that existed beyond their bodies as well.

Mira didn’t get a chance to notice the cool air hit her because as soon as she was exposed Rumi’s hands were everywhere, tracing old scars on her back, running along the muscles of her abdomen as they twitched in response, until a hand finally settled on her breast, the pad of her thumb swiping across her nipple and making her gasp.

It took her a moment to remember what Zoey’s instruction had been, but when she did she broke the kiss and tugged on Rumi’s shirt. “Off.”

Rumi obliged, leaning forwards and letting Mira pull her shirt off over her head and discard her bra alongside it. She shifted and settled between Rumi’s thighs—she didn’t have to ask her to make room, she did it on instinct—and kissed down her neck, biting lightly at her collarbones and the swell of her breast. Rumi’s hand flew up to cup the back of Mira’s head as soon as she flicked her tongue across her nipple in an attempt to hold her in place, and normally she would’ve acquiesced, but not tonight. She sat back on her haunches.

“How do you want me?” Mira asked, hooking a thumb under the waistband of Rumi’s trousers.

Rumi blinked at her. She looked so pretty like this, breathless and flushed, lips swollen and eyes dark with want. She licked her lips before she responded. “Fingers. I-... keep kissing me.”

Mira hummed in approval. “Lift your hips.”

The pile of discarded clothes grew as Mira tugged her trousers and underwear off, and then her own, just because she knew Zoey would ask her to when she got back. Rumi wrapped her arms loosely around Mira’s neck as she trailed her fingers up Rumi’s inner thigh, applying just enough pressure on her patterns to make her muscles tighten—one day she’d have to try and get Rumi to actually explain what it felt like when they touched them like this—then pressed her palm to her core. Rumi gasped at the contact and bucked against her.

It wasn’t a surprise that she was already so wet. It really didn’t take much to get her going—she was almost as bad as Zoey. Almost.

She ran her fingers through Rumi’s folds, up to circle her clit lightly, teasingly, far too gentle to be enough, but plenty to make her whine softly. When she pushed a finger inside, Rumi moaned, and Mira caught her in a kiss to swallow the sound greedily. She wanted to give her more—to give her everything—so she added a second finger and pressed the heel of her palm to her clit. She basked in the sharp pain in her back when Rumi dug her nails into her in response.

Rumi pulled back slightly, just long enough for her to gasp out, “Mira- fuck- baby, don’t stop-”

Mira curled her fingers. Rumi’s nails dug in harder, her moans muffled by Mira’s mouth.

“Stop.” Zoey said from somewhere behind them.

She would, she would, but Rumi was so warm around her fingers, and she’d asked for more, and she could feel every muscle in her body responding to her movements-

A tap on her shoulder made her stop. Rumi’s hips twitched impatiently, and a frustrated little whine fell from her mouth when Mira broke the kiss to look over her shoulder.

“I told you to stop.” Zoey said firmly. “Get up.”

Mira removed her fingers from Rumi carefully and turned to face Zoey properly, mostly with the intention to admire her now naked body—because she was a simple woman at heart, and Zoey was unfairly hot—but as soon as her eyes trailed down she saw the strap.

So that was what had taken her so long.

Mira climbed off the bed and stood while Zoey put a bottle of water and a much smaller bottle of lube on the bedside table. She put something else, something small, next to them, but Mira’s attempt to guess what she might’ve been holding was interrupted when Zoey’s hand was back on her shoulder and firmly guiding her down to her knees until she was eye-level with the strap.

She heard the bedsheets rustle underneath Rumi as she shifted, probably so she could get a better view. Zoey stroked her hand over Mira’s hair, then held her jaw between her thumb and forefinger and made her look up.

“Failed on the first instruction. You just couldn’t help yourself, could you?” Zoey cooed.

Mira tried to duck her head down at the admonishment, but Zoey’s grip was firm and her look was expectant, so she answered. “I-... no. I couldn’t.”

Zoey traced her thumb over Mira’s lower lip thoughtfully. “I get it. She is very pretty.”

She let go of Mira’s chin to cradle her cheek and, entirely without thinking, Mira closed her eyes and leaned into the touch. Maybe if she’d kept her eyes open she would’ve seen Zoey’s expression and had some warning before she said:

“Get the strap wet for me.”

Mira’s eyes shot open and she looked up into Zoey's expression, at her narrowed eyes and mischievous smirk. She must have stared for too long because suddenly her expression softened and she ran her thumb over her cheekbone soothingly.

“Colour?” Zoey asked.

Mira swallowed. “Green.”

The smirk was back as Zoey's hand slid down to Mira’s chin. “Then stop stalling.”

Mira looked back to the strap and realised with a jolt that it was the toy Mira liked to be used on her. The knowledge surged down her abdomen and joined the searing heat that pooled there. Suddenly the hand on her chin was fisted into the back of her hair.

“Don’t make me ask again, Mira.” Zoey warned.

Mira rested her hands on Zoey’s thighs and took the tip of the toy into her mouth, slowly enough that she could feel the hand in her hair twitch with the effort it was taking to not just push her down. She took as much of it into her mouth as she comfortably could before drawing back, letting the weight of the silicone slide along her tongue pleasantly, then bobbed her head back down.

“That’s it.” Zoey crooned. “You look so good on your knees for me.”

She looked up through her eyelashes at Zoey’s face and felt a surge of pride alongside the pleasure at her expression—a hint of awe buried under the clear arousal. It set off something primal and needy inside of her. She pushed herself down until she felt the toy hit the back of her throat and swallowed around it.

She stayed there until she needed to pull back to gasp for air, then took the toy into her mouth again, hollowing out her cheeks and sucking.

Zoey laughed breathily above her. “Such a good girl. Want me to fuck your throat, is that it?”

She hadn’t, right up until Zoey said it. She couldn’t speak with her mouth so full so instead she tapped once—green—on Zoey’s thigh, and was rewarded immediately with a devious grin and sudden force on the back of her head, pushing the toy further into her mouth until her nose hit the base of it. With the control being taken from her she gagged around the intrusion, but she let Zoey fuck into her mouth at her pace. She could feel a haziness around the edges of her brain as she let herself be used.

“Doesn’t she look pretty like this?” Zoey asked.

From somewhere behind her she heard Rumi’s breathy voice, audible just over the filthy sounds of Mira’s mouth around the toy. “So pretty…”

“Stop.” Zoey said. Mira almost did, but she realised the words weren’t being directed at her. “I didn’t say you could touch yourself.”

“Zoey…” Rumi whined.

She was getting off on watching them. She liked it so much she couldn’t help but touch herself. It did something sinful to Mira. Now eager to put on even more of a show, she sucked more fervently, bobbing her head as much as she could with Zoey’s hand in her hair.

“She’s not yours to order around. You’re both mine,” Zoey gasped out. She wasn’t unaffected by the sight, either, ”And you’ll wait.”

Mira coughed when Zoey pulled the toy from her mouth and dragged in air through heaving lungs. Zoey’s grip on her hair loosened and her hand trailed down to Mira’s jaw, where she wiped away drool with her thumb.

“Messy thing.” Zoey said, almost fond. She reached over for the bottle of water on the bedside table and twisted the cap off. “Drink. I need your mouth for something else.”

Instead of handing the bottle to her she instead pressed the rim of it to her swollen lips and poured gently. Mira gulped down eagerly, letting the cool liquid soothe her throat. When the bottle was closed and put away, Zoey took her hand from her thigh and gave her a light tug up, a wordless instruction to get to her feet. She was nice enough to keep hold of Mira and help her get her wobbly legs back under her.

They’d barely even started. She really needed to get her shit together.

She turned back to the bed and saw why Zoey had instructed Rumi to stop. Her hands were clawing at the bedsheets in her efforts to stay put, patterns pulsing the same shade of pink as her flushed face, but her thighs were glistening from where she’d been rubbing them together.

“Want to finish what you started, since you sucked me off so well?” Zoey asked lightly, almost conversationally.

It took Mira’s brain a second to recall what she’d been doing before Zoey made her stop, but then she was nodding and saying, “Yeah- yes.”

Zoey put a hand on Mira’s upper back and pushed her towards the bed lightly. Mira climbed onto the bed and settled between Rumi’s knees. Rumi looked up at her, pupils blown out, almost panting despite not having been touched, and she was overwhelmed by the urge to kiss her-

“Mira.” Zoey giggled. “I said your mouth, didn’t I?”

Right. She had said that. Mira pushed herself further down the bed and lay between Rumi’s thighs, rucking them up over her shoulders for better access. They were a little wet against her skin. Her face was so close she could feel Rumi’s legs twitching every time she exhaled, and it was taking all of her fraying self control to not put her tongue against her, but she waited.

Zoey made an amused sound in her throat. “It wasn’t a trick, baby. Go on.”

Rumi moaned so loudly it bordered on a sob when Mira dragged her tongue through her folds and up to her clit. She was already so wet that Mira could feel her arousal smearing across her chin, and it only encouraged her.

“How does she feel?” Zoey asked. The bed dipped behind her.

Rumi gasped as Mira wrapped her lips around her clit, which tumbled into a loud moan when she sucked. “God, she- fuck, Zoey, she feels so- so good.”

The praise sank through her and spurred her on further. She pressed her tongue inside Rumi’s entrance easily and lapped like a woman starved. She could feel Rumi’s walls tightening, but then she was being manhandled onto her knees and had to pull away so she could readjust. Rumi whined in frustration.

“Zoey! I was-” Rumi started, indignant.

“Do you not think Mira deserves a treat as well?” Zoey asked.

Mira looked up at Rumi in time to see her mouth snap shut as she nodded rapidly, but before she could exhale with relief a finger was being dragged through her folds and the exhale turned into a low, needy whine. She’d been vaguely aware of how criminally aroused she’d been the whole time, but now with attention being brought to it she couldn’t ignore it anymore. She tried to push back onto Zoey’s fingers, but Zoey moved them away and tutted.

“Don’t mind me.” Zoey said casually. “You’ve got a job to do.”

Mira bit back a frustrated sound and pressed her tongue back to Rumi so suddenly it made her jolt in surprise, but then Rumi’s hand was in her hair and Mira was licking eagerly, desperately. She wanted to make her feel good first, she needed to make her feel good first, and it was becoming harder and harder for her to focus on her task.

Zoey slipped a finger inside of her and she moaned into Rumi.

“Keep going.” Zoey said, pulling her finger back out so she could add a second. Mira pushed her hips back again, entirely involuntarily. Zoey didn’t stop her this time, instead meeting the movement and pushing her fingers further in. The slight stretch sent sparks of pleasure careening around every nerve in her body.

It was almost overwhelming, almost, but she trusted them.

When Zoey slid in a third finger she keened, pulling away from Rumi without her flagging brain’s input.

“Zoey, oh- fuck-” Mira whined, and then, because she had just enough sense to realise how it might be interpreted, “Green- green-”

“Good girl.” Zoey said. There was a hint of pride in her voice and it made Mira’s throat feel tight.

But then Rumi’s hand was pulling her back to the place she belonged again, and she renewed her efforts in lapping at her clit. She knew she was becoming clumsy when Rumi’s grip in her hair tightened and she started thrusting against her, directing her, holding her in place. Mira let her, just like she’d let Zoey use her mouth. She was theirs, theirs, theirs-

Zoey withdrew her hand and Mira whimpered at the loss as her walls clenched down on nothing.

“Mira…” Rumi breathed above her, “You’re so- so good for me- I-...”

Mira dug her nails into Rumi’s thighs with one hand to hold her in place and slid the other down to her entrance, snatching back a fragment of control on instinct alone. She flicked her tongue against Rumi’s clit again, then sank two fingers into her and curled her fingers. Rumi’s back arched sharply at the added sensation.

“I- fuck- close- I-” Rumi stammered. Mira didn’t let up, matching her thrusts to the flick of her tongue until Rumi’s walls tightened around her and she came undone with a high pitched, gasping moan. She slowed her pace, coaxing her through the aftershocks, and then pulled away completely and sat back on her haunches—Zoey wouldn’t mind her moving if it was for Rumi’s sake—and ran her hands over Rumi’s trembling thighs as she came down from it.

The bed dipped behind her again and Zoey touched her back lightly, encouragingly. She’d been about to get back on her knees, but-

“Wait.” Rumi said unsteadily. Mira and Zoey both paused. “Just-... Zoey, can-... Mira, c’mere.”

A wordless conversation passed between Zoey and Rumi that Mira was feeling too fuzzy to comprehend, but then Zoey said, surprisingly soft, “Okay, yeah.”

Rumi reached down to tug Mira’s arm and coaxed her into bracing herself on her elbows either side of Rumi’s shoulders. She looked down into Rumi’s happy, blissed-out expression and leaned down to kiss her gently.

Because she couldn’t help herself, she purred, “See how good you taste?”

Rumi shivered pleasantly and giggled, slightly dazed. “Mmh. Been told that, yeah.”

She heard a bottle snap open—presumably the lube, because they all knew that spit was not sufficient lubrication—and then, in her periphery, saw Zoey swap the bottle for something else on the bedside table. Before she could ask, the bed dipped behind her and she felt something warm and hard pressing against her entrance.

“Colour?” Zoey asked, placing a hand on Mira’s lower back.

Mira took a breath. She was feeling a little floaty, a little foggy, but present. More importantly, with Rumi smiling kindly at her and Zoey drawing soothing patterns against her skin with her thumb, she felt safe.

“Green.” Mira said firmly.

Zoey pushed in slowly, inch by inch, letting Mira adjust to the stretch of it. She didn’t need much adjusting—she knew she was soaked, and Zoey had prepared her thoroughly—so she rocked back into Zoey’s hips slightly, gasping when she felt her bottom out inside of her.

“Needy.” Zoey teased. “Did I keep you waiting too long?”

Instead of answering, because there was no answer that fell in her favour, she leaned back down to kiss Rumi again. One of Rumi’s arms slid up her back and flattened across her shoulderblades, enveloping her in a steady warmth.

She was surprised at how long Zoey let her kiss Rumi before she said, “I was asking a question. Are you that desperate for me to fuck you?”

Rumi’s other hand brushed against Mira’s collarbone and pushed her back lightly, and Mira whined at the loss, which was embarrassing.

“Zoey, just-” Mira started.

Zoey interrupted her. “It’s a yes or no question.”

Mira gave a frustrated growl and snapped out, “Yes, Zoey. I need you to fuck me- ah-”

Zoey pulled out almost all the way and thrust back into her forcefully, turning her complaining into a moan and, if it weren’t for Rumi’s hand, would’ve sent her pitching into the crook of Rumi’s neck. Instead, she was being held up and Rumi was giving her a knowing—and dazed—smile.

She fisted her hands in the bedsheets either side of Rumi as Zoey put her hands on Mira’s hips and set a relentless pace.

“Such a needy thing,” Zoey murmured, “So pretty when you let me take you.”

Pleasure coiled on every thrust, leaving Mira gasping and moaning. It built inside of her and Mira found herself whining Zoey’s name between all the other sounds that were tumbling out her mouth. She pushed down to kiss Rumi again. It was a desperate, feral thing, staggered out by Mira’s panting and attempts to say Zoey’s name, then Rumi’s. She was close, so close, closecloseclose-

Zoey stopped.

She let out a whine half way between frustrated and piteous.

“Aw, sorry, gorgeous.” Zoey said in a tone that did not indicate she was at all apologetic. “I’m having too much fun to let it end yet.”

Mira tried to push her hips back instead of trying for words, but Zoey’s hands on her hips tightened, nails digging in painfully and stoking the fire inside of her.

“Don’t rush me.” Zoey chided as she started to rock her hips again, fucking into her slowly, lovingly, gently, mockingly.

Mira hoped she’d speed up, but she didn’t. She kept the same, steady pace until Mira pushed back into her again, and then she stopped.

“Zoey.” Mira snarled. She tried to look over her shoulder, but suddenly the hand that was on her chest was cupping her jaw and forcing her to look back at Rumi.

“You’re taking her so well, baby.” Rumi said, so softly it was almost a whisper. “Let her have her fun.”

It made something inside of Mira’s brain short circuit. She was used to Zoey saying things like that, but Rumi-... Rumi-...

She hadn’t realised she was grinding back against Zoey until she heard her surprised laugh.

“Oh, she likes it when you talk to her like that.” Zoey said. Mira tried to argue it, but all that came out was another pitiful whine.

She saw a flicker of hesitation cross Rumi’s face and, as best she could, tapped her shoulder once. Zoey must have seen the movement as well, because she started thrusting into her again, just hard enough to send jolts of pleasure around Mira’s body, but not enough.

“You’re so good for us, Mira.” Rumi murmured, running her thumb over Mira’s cheekbone soothingly. “Tell us how good you are.”

It wasn’t what she expected her to say, and Mira found herself unable to respond. It wouldn’t matter if she had been able to respond, anyway, because Zoey found the spot inside her that sent white-hot pleasure through every inch of her body. She nearly wailed at the sensation, but just as she started to crest Zoey stopped again.

“Why?” Mira whined. She wasn’t being made to beg, Zoey was just holding off on her for no fucking reason. She’d been good for them. She’d listened, so why-

“Are you a good girl, Mira?” Zoey taunted.

The words were on the tip of her tongue, but she found herself unable to push them out of her mouth.

Zoey started thrusting into her again, and just as the pleasure built, she stopped again.

“Aren’t you tired of holding on?” Zoey said, voice bright despite her panting. “I know you want to give in.”

Mira pushed back into her and Zoey obliged, snapping her hips against Mira’s hard enough to make her whine again.

“You’re so good for us, baby. All you have to do is say it.” Zoey said.

She wanted to let go, she did, she wanted it so badly but- but-

Rumi held her face with both hands.

“It’s okay, sweetheart. We’ve got you.” Rumi whispered softly. “We’ve got you. Let go for us. We’re here.”

Mira had always held onto control the way a drowning victim held onto a breath—desperately, greedily. It was necessary for survival. Letting go meant death.

And yet.

On the inevitable inhale, the moment the human brain shut off and the animal instincts kicked in, instead of water her lungs flooded with Rumi.

“I’m good. I’m good, I-” Mira choked out, voice breaking on a sob. Zoey slowed down immediately and Mira found herself babbling, “No, no- green, green, I promise.”

Zoey rubbed a soothing circle into her hip with the pad of her thumb, but instead of speeding up like she’d hoped she stayed at that same slow, rolling pace.

“You’re so pretty.” Rumi breathed. “Say it.”

Whatever dam Mira had been hiding behind had broken now, and she’d say whatever they wanted to hear. She’d do whatever they wanted. She was good, she was theirs, she was safe, she-

“I’m- I’m pretty.” Mira whined. Rumi wiped a tear away with her thumb.

Zoey thrust harder, like a reward, and Mira chased it desperately.

“You’re loved, Mira. Do you know how loved you are?” Zoey asked, all the earlier teasing gone and replaced with a startling sincerity that sank through the fog in Mira’s mind and settled like a hug.

“I do, I do, I’m- I’m loved- I love you, I love- I-...” Mira tried, but words were getting harder. Distantly she noticed Zoey sliding something up the bed, and Rumi lowered a hand from her face to take it. She didn’t have the bandwidth to figure it out, nor did she want to, she just wanted more, more of whatever they’d give her.

Zoey snapped back into the brutal pace from earlier, hitting the spot inside her that made her moan on each thrust, so she didn’t hear the click of the bullet vibrator being turned on until it was being pressed firmly against her swollen clit.

She keened. Two sources of pleasure crashed into each other like waves, building off each other and climbing higher, higher, and before she could even comprehend that she’d been standing on the edge of a cliff she was careening over it. Her orgasm hit her like a freight train. She was vaguely aware of Rumi pulling her face into the crook of her neck, but she was barely present enough to even appreciate the comfort of it.

The vibrator was turned down, but not off.

Zoey slowed, but didn’t stop.

Her legs spasmed at the sudden onslaught of pleasure-pain, and she knew she was making sounds, or saying something, but she didn’t know what was coming out of her mouth. She was so oversensitive that every movement made her entire body twitch, it hurt, and she wanted more.

“Just one more. You can do it.” Zoey crooned lovingly.

“I can’t- fuck- I-” Mira moaned brokenly into Rumi’s neck.

Both sensations slowed and she felt the vibration in Rumi’s throat when she said, “Colour?”

She couldn’t get the words out, so she tapped Rumi’s shoulder—or chest, she wasn’t sure anymore—once.

“Green.” Rumi translated.

And then both sensations were back, and soon the pain was superseded by the pleasure and she was being sent straight into another orgasm that made her mind go completely blank.

All her awareness was gone. She felt like she was floating, blissfully wrapped in cotton wool, cradled safely by warmth. She only knew Zoey had pulled out because it made her twitch. She thought she was being moved—carried, maybe—because she had a vague sense of vertigo. She didn’t mind.

Her senses trickled back to her one by one.

She was very warm, way warmer than a hug would be. There were voices around her, soft giggles and murmured conversations. When she took a breath the air felt damp. A hand was scratching her scalp lightly and she leant into it, sending water sloshing against- the tub?

Mira tried to ask why she was in the bath, but all that came out was a croaky, “...bath?”

“Hey, baby.” Zoey said. Mira looked in the direction of the voice and saw that she was kneeling on the bathroom floor, arms slung over the side of the bathtub, fingers drifting through the water. “Thought you might want to get clean after all that.”

Mira hummed her appreciation. She looked up to find Rumi, who was perched on the edge of the tub. Rumi smiled softly at her. “It’ll help with the ache, too.”

She knew that, objectively. She’d just never been on this side of it before. She sank further into the hot water and sighed contentedly.

“You alright?” Zoey asked.

“Mmh. Felt good.” Mira said.

Zoey giggled. “I got that idea, yeah. Not too much?”

Mira shook her head and closed her eyes. She heard some movement, but didn’t feel the need to investigate—whatever they were doing was probably fine.

“Want a hand getting clean?” Rumi asked.

Mira considered it. Her skin still felt sensitive, like any touch might make her legs shake again, but…

“...Yeah.” Mira said, because she did want them to keep touching her. She wanted them to never stop touching her.

She cracked open an eye to see Zoey lathering up a washcloth with the sort of intense focus she showed every task she set her mind to and found herself chuckling under her breath.

Zoey ran the washcloth over her arms gently, lifting them out of the water when needed and gently placing them back into the warm embrace of it when she was done.

Rumi stopped touching her hair, but only to get her shampoo—Rumi’s shampoo, actually, since this was her bathroom—and start massaging it into Mira’s scalp, letting her nails scratch over her in a way that made Mira shiver lightly.

Each touch from either of them was so gentle, so loving… and she wasn’t surprised. Of course she wasn’t surprised.

They’d cracked open her ribs like a geode and told her that everything inside was beautiful too, that they loved her, that she was loved. After everything, after the problems she’d caused, after the way she’d needed their protection, they still wanted to hold their hands against her heart.

She was loved. She was safe.

The thought followed her as she dried off. It followed her as she sipped on water and listened to Rumi and Zoey talk. It followed her as she lay down in bed, sandwiched between them. It followed her when Rumi nuzzled into her neck and Zoey hooked their legs together.

Mira was completely comfortable, held by the two people who mattered most.