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Rumi sighed, tossing her pen onto the table with a soft clatter. Frustration prickled up her spine—she knew what she wanted to say. The line was right there, but the words just wouldn’t land the way she needed them to.
They didn’t sound right.
She leaned back in her chair, exhaling through her nose as her eyes wandered—inevitably—to Zoey.
Zoey sat cross-legged on the chair at the kitchen table, creamy bare thighs on full display, a thick hoodie swallowing the rest of her. It hung low, brushing the tops of her legs, the sleeves pushed sloppily up her arms. A notebook rested on one thigh, and her pen tapped rhythmically to the beat playing through her headphones.
She looked so focused. So effortlessly pretty.
Her hair was down for once, the strands slightly mussed, with bangs that had grown too long and now kept slipping into her eyes.
Rumi tilted her head, letting her gaze linger.
Something about it made her stop.
Zoey just looked… soft like this. Unbothered. Vulnerable in a way that made Rumi’s chest clench.
Zoey jotted something down, biting her lip—then let out a little squeak of excitement.
But she must’ve felt the weight of Rumi’s stare, because her pen slowed… then stopped completely.
She glanced up, pulling one side of her headphones off with a curious little smile. “What?” she asked, laughing quietly. “Did you finally figure your lines out? Or are you just gonna keep staring at me like that?”
Rumi blinked, caught mid-thought, then tilted her head with a lazy half-smirk. “Do you not like being stared at?” she asked, voice softer now—less teasing, more genuinely curious.
Zoey’s eyes flicked away. She gave a soft shrug. “I don’t know… I guess I just don’t get why anyone would.”
That hit Rumi somewhere low in her chest.
“Hmm,” she said. “I can think of a few reasons.”
The room got quiet before Rumi spoke again. “Your hairs getting long,”
Zoey blinked back, glancing up as if just realizing the way her bangs dipped into her eyes. She blew at them with a huff of breath before taking her headphones off, setting them on the table. “Ah… yeah, I’ve been so busy I haven’t had time to cut it. Should I?”
Rumi leaned her elbow on the table, eyes never leaving her. “No,” she said firmly. “It looks good like this. I like it like this.”
Zoey looked at her again, a little unsure. “..Yeah?”
“Yeah,” Rumi said, smiling now. She reached out and gently tucked Zoey’s hair behind her ear, letting her fingers linger. “You’re so pretty, Zoey.”
That caught Zoey completely off guard.
Zoey’s breath hitched. Her heart gave a small, involuntary stutter, and her stomach fluttered with that soft, unsteady warmth that made her feel dizzy in the best way.
She didn’t know what to do with it—with the compliment, the touch, the way Rumi was looking at her like she meant it.
Her eyes widened just slightly, lips parting—speechless for once. The air between them grew heavier, charged, and Zoey’s cheeks lit up pink.
She ducked her head, hand brushing over the spot Rumi had touched, a quiet, shaky laugh escaping her. “Oh my god,” she muttered. Her voice was too soft, too breathy. She felt like she was floating. Or melting. Maybe both.
Rumi watched her like she was the only thing in the room. “Is Zoey…” she said, tilting her head with a grin. “Is Zoey blushing?”
Zoey groaned, hands flying up to cover her face.
“No, I’m not—shut up.”
“Liar,” Rumi said, marks glowing now. “You’re actually blushing. That’s so cute. Zoeyyy!”
“Stop!” Zoey said through her hands, voice muffled and clearly flustered. “I’m gonna kick you.”
“You wouldn’t,” Rumi teased, scooting her chair closer until their knees brushed. She leaned in, breath warm against Zoey’s ear, her hand settling confidently on her thigh. “My pretty little Zoey.”
Zoey froze, her breath catching in her throat. Her hands slowly dropped, her face still flushed, eyes wide with that same vulnerable disbelief.
Rumi didn’t give her a chance to recover.
Zoey tried to lean away, overwhelmed—but Rumi followed, closing the space between them with a quiet intensity.
Her hand slid from Zoey’s thigh to her cheek, tilting her head towards hers just slightly before pressing their mouths together.
The kiss started soft—testing—but Zoey gasped, her breath hitching as she gave in, fingers twisting on the front of Rumi’s hoodie like she was holding on for dear life.
That flutter in her stomach twisted into something heavier, warmer—needier.
She melted fast.
Too fast.
Chairs scraped loudly as Rumi tugged her closer, Zoey nearly falling out of her seat in the process. Rumi stood, pulling Zoey up with her like it was nothing, like she was weightless, and kissed her again—deeper this time.
Their mouths moved together, wet and hot, tongues brushing. “Rumi..!” Zoey moaned softly into her, voice barely restrained, every part of her trembling from the intensity of it.
Rumi backed her up until she hit the edge of the table, then pressed her in place, hips flush, hands gripping tight at her waist.
Her mouth dragged down, kissing along Zoey’s jaw and lower still, until she found the soft skin of her neck.
“Fuck,” Zoey whispered, eyes fluttering shut.
Rumi didn’t stop.
“My beautiful girl,” she murmured against her skin, breath warm and ragged. She sucked lightly, then kissed again, leaving slow heat in her wake.
Her fingers slipped under the hem of Zoey’s large hoodie, lifting it while her thumbs brushed her hips. “No shorts? Mm.” Rumi spoke, pulling at the hem of Zoey’s panties and letting it snap back against her skin causing Zoey to yelp.
Zoey’s entire body buzzed with sensation. Her mind was soft static. Her legs felt weak.
She didn’t hear the door.
But Rumi did—just a beat too late.
“Well—holy shit,” Mira’s voice rang out, half-laughing, half-stunned. “I leave you guys alone for five minutes and now you’re practically fucking on top of the lyric sheets?”
Zoey gasped and jolted back, shoving at Rumi’s shoulders with burning cheeks and pushing her hoodie down. “Oh my god—Mira!”
Rumi barely moved, just turned her head lazily toward Mira, lips flushed, eyes half-lidded. “You were gone for thirty,” she said calmly, like she wasn’t just about to turn Zoey out in the dining room.
Mira dropped the bags on the counter, eyebrows raised, a grin pulling at her lips. “I was shopping, not speedrunning,” she muttered, watching them with interest.
Before Zoey could run, Rumi dissolved into pink mist before appearing behind Zoey again—effortless, predatory.
She slid her arms around Zoey’s waist and pulled her backward, flush to her chest, until Zoey gave a breathless squeak. “Ah—Rumi!”
“Mira, look here,” Rumi said smoothly, her voice dripping with mischief. “See how long her hair’s gotten?”
Zoey whined, face burning as her hands flew up to cover herself again.
But Rumi gently caught them—fingers threading with Zoey’s—and slowly pulling them away from her face.
“Don’t hide,” Rumi whispered near her ear, lips brushing against her skin. “I want her to see how pretty you are.”
Zoey’s breath hitched. Her body trembled, a sharp pulse deep inside her, clenching around nothing.
It was too much—the attention, the praise, the heat in both their eyes.
And Mira, still leaning casually against the counter with her arms crossed, watched it all unfold with a glint of amusement. She let out a low, appreciative whistle.
“Jesus. Should I leave again or grab popcorn?”
Zoey tried to twist away, overwhelmed, but Rumi only caught her wrists and drew them behind her back, holding her there—easily, securely.
“Mira, please—don’t egg her on,” she said, voice cracking with embarrassment.
“Oh no, why would I ever do that?" Mira joked, stepping closer with a wicked grin, her gaze dragging slowly down Zoey’s body. “Look at how your hair falls down your shoulders… an absolute beauty, aren’t you?”
“Stop,” Zoey let out a sigh, trying to pull from Rumi’s grip, but Rumi kept her in place—firm and patient.
“She gets so shy when you say nice things,” Rumi murmured near Zoey’s ear, clearly enjoying the way her words made Zoey squirm. “Isn’t that sweet?”
Mira tilted her head, eyes glinting as she stepped in closer. “It is, isn’t it? Are you a good girl, Zoey? Our good, sweet girl?”
Zoey let out a soft, needy whimper, her knees visibly buckling as she gave a shy nod, eyes flickering between them as Rumi moved to her side.
But Mira wasn’t satisfied.
She leaned in until her lips were barely an inch from Zoey’s, her voice a velvet command.
“Nuh-uh. Use your words.”
Zoey’s breath caught. Her lips parted like she wanted to speak—but nothing came out.
Rumi chuckled low against her neck, her fingers stroking slow circles at Zoey’s waist. “Come on, baby,” she coaxed, voice like honey. “Say it. Be good for us.”
Zoey’s eyes fluttered closed, her face burning. And then, barely audible:
“I’m… your good girl.”
Mira smiled. “There she is.”
Rumi hummed, brushing her lips along Zoey’s jaw as she spoke. “You know, I think, good, pretty girls deserve special attention.”
Mira nodded, biting her lip as she caged Zoey in, “I think you’re right, Rumi,”
Before Zoey could even ask what that meant, Mira was already moving—hands at the hem of her hoodie, lifting it just enough to expose the bare skin beneath.
“Wait—” Zoey gasped, but Rumi was right there, soothing her with a kiss behind her ear.
“Shh,” she whispered. “Let us take care of you.”
Zoey trembled in place, thighs brushing as she struggled to stay upright, her hoodie now bunched around her hips —exposing the curve of her waist and the sliver of pale skin above her underwear.
Rumi got behind Zoey once more, giving her a solid place to lean against, while Mira knelt slowly in front of her like she had all the time in the world.
Her hands slid down Zoey’s legs, fingers trailing along the backs of her thighs, then smoothing up again—slow, deliberate. Mira pressed a soft kiss just above the band of her underwear, her breath hot against sensitive skin, eyes glinting as she looked up.
Zoey’s breath caught in her throat, her heart hammering. She felt raw—vulnerable and seen, a fluttering ache pulsing low in her belly.
Her knees buckled slightly, only held up by Rumi’s solid frame behind her.
“R-Rumi—” she whispered.
“You’re doing so good,” Rumi murmured, kissing just below her jaw now, her voice dripping with praise. “So perfect, we got you. Let us show you how much we mean it.”
Mira’s hands gripped Zoey’s thighs, thumbs stroking slowly along the inside until one hand slid up and gently hooked her leg over Mira’s shoulder, opening her up further.
The shift made Zoey gasp—made her hoodie ride even higher, nearly baring her completely.
“Look at you,” Mira breathed, kissing her hipbone, her tone half-reverent, half-teasing. “Shaking just from a little touch. Such a sensitive thing…”
Zoey whimpered, heat rolling off her in waves, one hand gripping Rumi’s wrist for stability, the other tangled in the hem of her hoodie.
She couldn’t decide whether to pull it down or let it rise higher.
Rumi leaned closer, her lips brushing over the shell of Zoey’s ear again, voice low and intimate.
“Tell us if it’s too much, baby. Otherwise…”
Her hand slid just beneath the waistband of Zoey’s underwear, barely grazing skin.
“…let us keep going.”
Zoey nodded quickly, but Mira tapped her thigh.
“Use your words,” she said again, softly—but it was a command.
Zoey bit her lip, her voice barely more than a whisper. “Please… don’t stop. I don’t want you to stop.”
That was all they needed.
Rumi kissed her temple, her hand gently pulling Zoey’s hoodie up higher, bunching the fabric around her ribs until it was practically off. She tugged it carefully over Zoey’s head, baring her slowly like she was unwrapping something precious.
Zoey shivered under the attention, arms folding instinctively across her exposed chest.
“None of that,” Rumi murmured from behind, gently uncrossing Zoey’s arms and kissing the slope of her shoulder. “You don’t have to hide from us. You’re enough. Let us see you.”
Zoey breathed out shakily, nodding, trying to trust the warmth in their hands, the sincerity in Rumi’s voice. The hoodie hit the floor with a soft sound, and now she stood between them in nothing but a thin pair of underwear, trembling and adored.
Mira’s fingers traced the waistband again, her eyes never leaving Zoey’s face.
“You’re so pretty like this,” she whispered, voice husky. “You were made for this, weren’t you? To be taken care of. This is what you need, Zo Zo.”
Zoey’s thighs clenched, a soft noise catching in her throat as Mira kissed the inside of her leg—slow, deliberate, just above the knee. Then higher. Higher still. Until she was just breathing against her center through the thin fabric of her panties.
Zoey whimpered.
Rumi leaned into her ear again. “That feel good, Zo?” she asked softly. “You want her mouth on you?”
Zoey could barely think. She nodded quickly—desperate, dizzy.
Rumi chuckled. “Your words, Zoey.”
Her voice trembled. “I… I want it. I want Mira’s mouth on me. Please..”
Mira grinned, fingers hooking into the sides of her underwear, dragging them down slow enough to make Zoey twitch.
“That’s my good girl,” Mira murmured. “Beg so sweet.”
Zoey stepped out of them shakily, one leg still hooked around Mira’s shoulder. Her entire body was open—flushed, trembling, exposed in every way.
And yet they kept looking at her like she was something sacred.
Mira leaned in and kissed her—soft at first. Her voice followed, low and hungry. “How pretty,” she murmured, lips brushing soaked heat. “All this just for us?”
Zoey whimpered, hips jerking at the contact. It felt like her skin was too thin, too sensitive. Like every nerve had been rewired just to feel them.
Then Mira’s tongue flicked out, slow and deliberate, dragging through her, and Zoey gasped—head falling back hard against Rumi’s shoulder.
Pleasure pulsed through her, thick and hot, but it wasn’t just the physical. It was the unbearable ache of being seen, of being told she was beautiful—again and again—when all she ever felt was not enough.
Too much.
Unworthy.
But they looked at her like she was the center of the world.
Rumi held her like she might come apart. Pressing soft kisses to her throat, chest cradled gently in one arm, her other hand stroking slow circles across Zoey’s belly, grounding her in a tenderness she didn’t know how to hold onto.
“You’re okay,” Rumi whispered, her voice like honey, like silk. “You’re doing so good. Let her take her time with you. You taste too sweet for her to make you come so quickly, let her savor you.”
Let her savor you.
Oh wow.
Is anyone else wet?
this was doing insane things to her ego.
Rumi’s words only made Zoey tremble harder.
Mira moaned against her, the vibration sending a jolt straight through her core. Her mouth moved in slow, wet strokes, unhurried, like Zoey was something to savor—not rush, not use, but worship.
Zoey cried out, hips bucking helplessly, one hand tangled in Mira’s hair like she couldn’t bear to let her go. Every brush of her tongue felt like too much—sharp, perfect, maddening.
“Rumi—fuck—she’s—” Zoey’s voice broke, a sob of pleasure escaping before she could stop it.
“I’ve got you,” Rumi murmured into her neck. “You’re safe. You’re ours. Let go.”
Zoey’s chest ached with how much she wanted to believe it, wanted to believe them.
To believe she could be loved like this.
Her moans grew tighter, breath high and stuttering, thighs shaking uncontrollably. She felt split open—not just by the pleasure, but by the way they touched her like she mattered.
Like she was precious.
Zoey’s moans grew higher, tighter, her hands flying to Mira’s hair, clutching with helpless desperation as her legs began to shake.
Her body bowed forward, her hands clutching Mira like she was drowning in her.
And then—
She shattered.
Her stomach clenched, back arching, a cry tearing from her lips that didn’t sound like anything she’d ever made before. It was raw. Unfiltered.
Her entire body pulsed, wave after wave crashing through her, leaving her shaking, breathless, and undone in Rumi’s arms.
——
Zoey’s body trembled as the last waves rolled through her, every muscle buzzing, her breath coming in short, shaky gasps.
She couldn’t speak—could barely think. Her knees might have buckled if not for Rumi’s steady arms still wrapped around her.
“Deep breaths,” Rumi whispered, brushing her lips against Zoey’s temple. “You did so good, baby. So, so good.”
Mira lifted her head slowly from between Zoey’s thighs, lips wet, eyes soft and reverent as she looked up at her. There was no smugness now—just awe.
“My-my, Zoey,” she murmured, stroking her hands gently down Zoey’s trembling thighs. “You’re beautiful when you come. You looked like you were glowing.”
Zoey whimpered, face turning away like she couldn’t bear the words. She didn’t know what to do with that kind of tenderness—especially when she didn’t feel like she deserved it.
“I—I’m not—” she began, voice hoarse, cracking.
“You are,” Rumi said instantly, tightening her hold, pulling her closer. “You are, Zoey. Don’t try to argue right now, you can barely stand.”
Mira stood, slowly, carefully, and moved in beside her, wrapping her arms around both of them.
She tucked her face against Zoey’s cheek and whispered, “You’re not allowed to talk shit about yourself after letting us love you like that. Nope. Off limits.”
Zoey let out a shaky, wet laugh, tears stinging at the corners of her eyes before she could stop them. “You guys are sooo mean.”
“You love it,” Mira teased softly, brushing her thumb under Zoey’s eye. “And we love you.”
Zoey buried her face into Rumi’s neck, overwhelmed in a way that felt nothing like before. Not like shame. Not like being too much or not enough. Just… full. Held. Safe.
Rumi rocked her gently, fingertips running along her spine. “You were so good for us,” she whispered. “So sweet. Let us take care of you a little longer, okay?”
Zoey nodded against her skin, small and tired and open.
“Okay.”
Mira kissed her cheek, then her shoulder, then the top of her head. “Let’s get you in bed, pretty girl. We’ll hold you all night.”
Rumi smiled into Zoey’s hair. “And maybe tomorrow…” she said, voice low and promising,
“…we’ll let you be the one in control.”
Zoey groaned faintly, already hiding again.
“Oh my god.”
They both laughed—and this time, so did she.
---
Rumi cleaned her gently, every touch slow and reverent, using warm cloths from the sink while Mira whispered sweet things from the pillows, coaxing Zoey to keep her eyes open just a little longer.
“Mmm… I’m tired…” Zoey whined, her voice muffled as she curled deeper into the sheets.
“I know, Zo-Zo,” Mira murmured from behind her, pressing a kiss to the back of her shoulder. “Just a little longer, yeah? Do you want to be all sticky when you wake up?”
Zoey shook her head softly and Mira smiled, “Good, then let Rumi help you.”
Rumi smiled too, brushing a warm cloth between Zoey’s thighs. “Almost done, I promise,” she said, voice low and soothing. “You’re being such a good girl.”
Zoey whimpered at that, barely able to lift her head, but clearly still affected by the praise. Her lashes fluttered, heavy with sleep before she brought her hands up to cover her face. “Shuutt uppp,” she mumbled, cheeks burning even through her exhaustion.
Rumi chuckled, soft and fond, and leaned forward to kiss her hip. “You’re cute when you’re shy,” she said gently, wiping down the last of the mess with practiced care.
Zoey grumbled something incoherent into the pillow, but didn’t move away.
Mira ran her fingers through Zoey’s hair and asked quietly, “Are you cold?”
“A little…”
“Mm. Figured.” Rumi tossed the cloth to the side, grabbing a pair of Zoey’s boxers and sliding them up her legs while Mira pulled the comforter higher over all of them. “We’ve got you.”
She moved back to the bed, crawling in behind Zoey and wrapping her arms around her waist, sandwiching her between them.
Zoey let out a soft sigh of relief—boneless and safe—as her body fully relaxed.
Rumi kissed her temple and whispered, “You did so good for us, angel. Rest now.”
Mira tucked the blanket around them and nuzzled close. “Tomorrow, we’ll spoil you all over again.”
Zoey managed a sleepy smile, already slipping under. “Tomorrow,” she echoed faintly, “you’re both in trouble…”
“Mm. Sure we are,” Rumi chuckled, pulling her closer.
They fell asleep like that—warm, tangled, and completely wrapped in each other.
And for the first time in a long while, Zoey didn’t feel like she had to earn any of it.
She just let herself be loved.
As they always would.
