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All yours

Summary:

Mira huffed, leaning back slightly, chest rising and falling fast as she stared at Zoey. Her pupils were blown wide, cheeks flushed, lips a little swollen.

Zoey’s thumb brushed lazily over Mira’s bottom lip, catching the faint dampness there. She leaned in until her breath was warm against Mira’s ear, her voice low and teasing. “Am I a good kisser, Mir?”

Mira’s breath hitched, and for once, she didn’t have the confidence she usually wore like armor. She nodded, still a little dazed. “…Amazing,” she breathed out.

Zoey grinned, pulling back just enough to look at her properly, cupping her chin and tilting it up. “Better than hers?”

For a second Mira’s brain blanked on who she meant—then she remembered, and her face heated immediately. She nodded quickly. “So much better.”

Zoey hummed softly, the sound low and satisfied, brushing her thumb over Mira’s jaw. “Good,” she whispered, before kissing her again.

or.

pathetic loser Mira x Freaky Zoey

Notes:

(See the end of the work for notes.)

Work Text:

Mira lay sprawled across her twin bed—if you could even call it that.

She’d hated it since day one. Too narrow. Too short. Too everything.

Her legs had to bend awkwardly if she wanted to stretch out, and there was never enough room to roll over without feeling like she might tumble onto the floor.

She needed more leg room, more mattress, more… well, space. But college dorms were cruel and unyielding. You got what you got, and what she got was this glorified cot with a lumpy mattress.

From the other side of their tiny shared bathroom came the sound of running water and a voice she knew like her own —Zoey’s—rapping along to some English song she’d heard a hundred times before. Mira didn’t even know the original artist anymore; in her head, the song was Zoey. It had been her shower soundtrack since freshman year, three years running.

Junior year now, and they were still roommates. Still… them.

Mira remembered finding Zoey a little annoying in the beginning, too loud, too cheerful, too ready to insert herself into everything. But somewhere between late-night ramen runs and arguing over thermostat settings, they’d clicked. Fell into an easy rhythm of knowing what the other liked, what the other hated, and what buttons to push for fun.

She was Mira’s first real friend. The first person who could tolerate her bluntness, her quick temper, her general self-destructive charm without bolting. Somehow, Zoey had just… stayed. Like she’d decided from the beginning that Mira was worth the trouble.

Mira ran her fingers along the edges of her open book, tracing the paper without really reading.

The bathroom door swung open a minute later, steam curling around Zoey as she stepped into the room drying her hair. She was wearing one of her ridiculous graphic tees, the kind Mira pretended to hate but secretly found hilarious.

Zoey had given Mira a shirt like that for her last birthday—one of hers said “Girl kisser” with two scissors printed on the back. Zoey had all but begged her to wear it in public so “the ladies would know.” Mira had shut that down instantly. No way in hell. Her vibe should be more than enough to give that away.

…Still, she wore it as a pajama shirt. For Zoey. Not that she’d admit that part out loud.

“Mira!” Zoey sing-songed, bouncing over with her usual grin. She pulled the towel from her head and shook her hair loose with a little flourish. “What do you think?”

Mira’s eyes caught it instantly. Of course they did. There wasn’t much about Zoey she didn’t notice. The new detail was impossible to miss—a streak of blue running through one of her short bangs, catching the light like a sly wink.

“I wanted to spice it up a little,” Zoey announced proudly, striking a goofy model pose.

Mira’s first instinct was to say she looked… well, pretty. But the words jammed in her throat, so she defaulted to something safer. “Please don’t tell me you dyed the sink blue,” she said flatly, glancing back at her book like it was more important.

Zoey’s shoulders sagged, her pout instant and dramatic. “Miraa. That’s what you’re worried about?”

“Yeah. If it’s stained, we’ll be in trouble.” Mira huffed, eyes still on the page she hadn’t read in ten minutes.

Zoey groaned, a drawn-out, performative sound—and trudged back toward the bathroom.

Mira’s gaze flicked up, catching her just before she disappeared behind the door. “…Zo,” she said softly.

Zoey blinked, looking over her shoulder, pout still in place.

Mira swallowed and dropped her eyes, heat creeping up the back of her neck. “It suits you,” she murmured, barely above a whisper.

For a second, Zoey just stood there. Then her whole face lit up like someone had plugged her into a socket, smile so bright it made something in Mira’s chest twist painfully.

“Thanks, Mir,” she beamed, before disappearing into the bathroom again.

Mira let out a slow breath, her pulse stubbornly quick in her ears.

And that was the other problem.

She was in love with her best friend.

Mira had been for quite some time now.

In love with Zoey.

Pathetically. Hopelessly.

But she wasn’t going to confess. She wasn’t an idiot. This was the first real friendship she’d ever had—and she wasn’t about to gamble it away just to spill a truth that could only go one of two ways: awkward rejection, or the slow, painful death of what they had now.

She’d take this. The friendship. The banter. The shared ramen cups at 1 a.m. The way Zoey always remembered how she took her coffee.

Even if it stung sometimes, lying awake at night and wishing she could reach over and trace the lines of Zoey’s jaw, kiss the smile right off her.

Even if she knew those wishes would never leave the safety of her own head.

The presence of Zoey, here, in her life, was better than the emptiness of her not being here at all.

She’d rather live with the dull ache of wanting something she couldn’t have than risk Zoey deciding she didn’t want her in any capacity.

She closed her book with a soft thump, no longer in the mood to pretend she was absorbing the words. Sleep was a better distraction. She shifted under her covers, reaching to click off her lamp, letting the corner of the room dissolve into shadows. Phone in hand, she settled into the familiar end-of-day ritual, a few minutes of scrolling through TikToks until her eyes got heavy.

The bathroom door opened with a soft creak, letting out a curl of steam. Zoey emerged with a small huff, towel tossed over her shoulder, swiping her palm over her forehead.

“Okay,” she announced, “scrubbed the blue dye clean… well, mostly. If you squint hard enough, you can see it. But it’ll fade.”

Mira made a noncommittal hum, eyes still on her phone, though she wasn’t actually processing the video in front of her.

“Can I sleep with you tonight?” Zoey’s voice turned warm, almost coaxing. “It’s a little cold in here and you’re like a human furnace.”

Mira coughed into her hand, heat flooding her face before her brain could remind her what Zoey meant—and didn’t mean.

“…Sure. Yeah,” she muttered, keeping it even.

Zoey’s smile brightened, followed by a delighted little hum of approval. She padded over, flipping up the edge of Mira’s blanket and sliding right in beside her. Without hesitation, she tucked herself under Mira’s arm, nuzzling into her chest like she’d done a hundred times before, arms looping snugly around Mira’s waist.

Mira shifted her phone so they could both see the screen—muscle memory at this point. This was normal. Zoey was clingy with everyone. Her love language was physical touch. She was an octopus of affection, no matter who it was.

So Mira told herself it didn’t mean anything.

That this wasn’t special.

That Zoey had probably curled up on someone else’s chest this exact way before.

But still, she soaked it in. Every second. Every excuse to be pressed this close. She could pretend, just for now, that they were something else. That this wasn’t just best friends killing time with TikToks. That she wasn’t memorizing the warmth of Zoey’s thigh against hers, the scent of her shampoo still clinging to her hair.

She fed those moments into her fantasies later, replaying them in the dark where no one could see her blush.

Zoey shifted slightly, tilting her face toward her. The glow from the phone caught her features, painting one side in pale gold. “Your heart’s beating pretty fast,” she said, a small, teasing smile tugging at her lips.

Mira swallowed, throat dry. “…Probably just my heart jumpstarting without its usual caffeine,” she lied smoothly, the words tasting flimsy in her mouth.

Zoey hummed like she believed her—or maybe she didn’t, and just didn’t feel like calling her out. She turned her attention back to the phone, head resting against Mira’s shoulder like she belonged there.

Mira stared at the screen, seeing nothing at all, willing her pulse to slow before Zoey noticed again.

After a while though, Mira’s eyes started to ache from staring at the tiny screen. She sighed, shutting off her phone and taking off her glasses in one slow motion, blinking a few times to adjust. Without needing to be asked, she handed both to Zoey, who reached over her like it was second nature, her arm brushing along Mira’s side as she set them on the nightstand.

When Zoey turned back, she was grinning—wide, bright, and a little mischievous. Mira squinted at her suspiciously. “What’s so funny?”

Zoey’s shoulders shook with a light giggle—airy and unguarded, the kind of sound that felt like sunlight filtering through a window. 

Mira hated how much she liked it.

“Nothing,” Zoey said, her grin deepening, “you just… you look like a cute grandma when you squint like that.”

Mira exhaled sharply, rolling her eyes. “Thanks. I look old, I know.”

Zoey made a dramatic groan and shoved her shoulder just enough to make the mattress dip beneath them. “That’s not what I meant.” She scooted closer—too close— her knee nudging against Mira’s leg as if she belonged there.

Then her hands came up, warm and soft, cupping Mira’s cheeks. Her thumbs pressed lightly against her skin as she squished them together, tilting Mira’s face toward her like she was inspecting it. “You’re pretty.”

The words were simple. Offhand. And yet Mira felt them land deep, like Zoey had just reached in and flipped a switch somewhere in her chest. Her pulse kicked hard, traitorous, and she knew Zoey could probably feel the warmth blooming under her palms.

Mira’s throat tightened. She settled for a noncommittal grunt, trying not to lean into the touch.

“You’re welcome,” Zoey said with a little chuckle—and then, like it was nothing, leaned forward to press a feather-light kiss to the tip of Mira’s nose.

It was over in a second, but Mira’s body didn’t get the memo. Her breath hitched, her stomach did a slow, twisting somersault. She wanted to freeze the moment, rewind it, play it again, slow it down so she could memorize the exact way Zoey’s lips had brushed her skin.

Stuff like this—the lingering touches, the way Zoey’s eyes sometimes locked on hers like she was the only thing worth looking at, it made Mira wonder. It made her think maybe she wasn’t imagining things.

It gave her hope she didn’t know what to do with.

Zoey didn’t let go right away. Her hands slid down slowly, fingertips grazing along Mira’s jaw and lingering at the curve of her neck for just a second too long. Then she hummed softly, as if to herself, and tucked her head into the crook of Mira’s neck. Her hair was still faintly damp from her shower, cool against Mira’s skin.

“Night, Mira,” Zoey murmured, voice warm and low, sending a ripple of goosebumps down Mira’s spine.

Mira swallowed, fighting to keep her breathing even as she let her chin rest on top of Zoey’s head. “…Goodnight, Zoey,” she said quietly, like speaking too loud might break whatever fragile thing was holding them here like this.

 


 

The thumping baseline rattled the tiny dorm speakers, and Zoey was still going strong—knees bending, arms slicing the air, every movement sharp and perfectly in sync with the animated Michael Jackson on the screen.

Mira, on the other hand, had tapped out three songs ago. She sat slouched on the couch, water bottle dangling from her fingers, chest still rising and falling from her failed attempt to keep up.

“How—” she panted, “—are you… not dead yet?”

Zoey just grinned over her shoulder, the Wii remote still clutched in one hand. “This is Ghosts, Mira. You can’t half-commit to Ghosts.”

Then she spun—actually spun—the fabric of her loose t-shirt twisting around her torso for a second before settling against her again, damp with sweat in a way that made Mira’s eyes snag on it.

She tried not to notice.

She really tried.

But it was impossible not to see the sheen glistening on Zoey’s skin under the cheap dorm light, the way her hair stuck slightly to her forehead, the way her body moved—quick, confident, loose in a way Mira never managed to be.

It was… distracting.

She tore her gaze away, only to find it snapping back like a rubber band when Zoey did a sharp hip snap and laughed, breathless but still grinning like she had endless reserves of energy.

“Don’t tell me you’re tapping out already,” Zoey teased, voice lilting as she nailed another move without even looking at the screen.

“I’m not tapping out,” Mira lied, heat creeping up the back of her neck. “I’m… observing.”

Zoey shot her a mock-suspicious look, still moving in perfect time with the music. “Observing my greatness?”

Mira’s mouth went dry. “Something like that,” she muttered, hoping the pounding bass was loud enough to swallow the uneven edge in her voice.

Another spin, another flick of Zoey’s wrist, another burst of laughter—like this was all just fun, nothing more.

Mira, on the other hand, could feel her pulse in her fingertips.

Zoey was bouncing on the balls of her feet, remote in one hand, already queuing up the next song. “Okay, okay—hear me out. Twice. Real choreography. None of this watered-down Just Dance version.”

Mira, still catching her breath from their last round, narrowed her eyes. “And you’re assuming I can keep up with that?”

Zoey’s grin was pure sunshine. “I know you can. I’ve seen you do their ‘Feel Special’ chorus at like, two in the morning when you thought I wasn’t watching.”

Mira’s ears warmed, but she didn’t rise to the bait. “Fine. But you better teach it right.”

The first few counts were easy, Zoey broke the sequence down with exaggerated flourishes and commentary that had Mira snorting between steps. But it didn’t take long before Mira’s body found the rhythm. Her footwork matched Zoey’s, her arms hit the angles cleanly, and the bounce in her movements synced perfectly to the beat.

Zoey blinked mid-step. “Okay, show-off.”

Mira smirked without missing a beat. “You’re the one who asked for it.”

They ran it again, and this time there was no awkward lag, no stumbling. They moved together in a sharp, mirrored rhythm—Zoey’s eyes on Mira, Mira’s on Zoey. The laughter lingered, but there was an undercurrent now.

Then the bridge hit.

Zoey stepped in closer, hips rolling with the beat, her body angled just enough to graze Mira’s as they moved in sync. Mira didn’t falter, if anything, she matched her, movements tightening, sharpening, her gaze locked like she was in a trance.

Zoey spun around her in a slow half-circle, brushing past her shoulder, their hands almost touching on the next move. When they hit the grind in the choreography, Zoey didn’t just mark it—she sank into it, her hip sliding up against Mira’s in perfect time.

Heat shot straight through Mira’s chest, pooling low in her stomach. She still hit every move, still kept her face neutral but her heartbeat was thudding.

By the time they hit the last chorus, their breathing had synced, their steps perfectly matched. Every brush of Zoey’s arm, every graze of her thigh, felt magnified.

And then it ended.

Mira stood there, chest heaving, realizing belatedly just how flushed she was and how the heat had nothing to do with cardio.

“Wanna run it one more time?” Zoey asked, grinning, still catching her breath.

Mira’s voice was steadier than she felt. “Uh… bathroom first.”

She turned before Zoey could say anything else, walking briskly down the hall and locking the door behind her.

Her reflection stared back from the mirror—hair mussed, cheeks flushed, eyes brighter than she liked. She gripped the sink, trying to steady her breathing.

She’d been way too into that.

Way too into her.

Mira sat there a few more seconds, head still in her hands. Her pulse had slowed, but only barely.

And that was when the guilt hit.

What the hell was wrong with her? Zoey was her friend. They were supposed to just… joke around, blow off steam after classes, maybe watch movies late at night instead of studying—not whatever that was her brain just turned it into.

She shook her head hard, like that would knock the thoughts loose.

“God, get a grip,” she muttered to herself, standing up. She was not about to sit here and spiral like some lovesick teenager over a friend.

Friends didn’t think about the way their friend’s body moved like that. Friends didn’t notice the heat in someone’s gaze and felt it in their stomach hours later.

She splashed her face one more time, avoiding her reflection, then opened the door.

When she stepped out, Zoey was already halfway through another Just Dance song, bouncing around the room with zero shame. Her hair was sticking to her temples, her hoodie sleeve shoved up one arm, and she looked like she could keep going for hours.

Zoey spotted her mid-spin and hit pause with the Wii remote. “Where’re you going?”

“Just… gonna take a walk. Need some fresh air.” Her tone came out steadier than she expected.

It wasn’t a lie. She did go for walks sometimes when the dorm got too stuffy. Which was exactly why Zoey didn’t blink.

“Alright,” Zoey said easily, resting her hands on her hips. “Just let me know when you’re getting back or I’ll stalk your location.”

Mira gave her a nod, already pulling her hoodie on and snagging her keys.

“Got it.”

The second the door closed behind her, she inhaled sharply. The night air hit her skin, cool and bracing.

She needed the space. She needed the quiet.

She needed… to get her mind off things.

Off Zoey.

 


 

The bar was packed, warm air humming with chatter and bad pop remixes blasting from the ceiling speakers. A hundred voices blended together into a low, constant roar, punctuated every so often by bursts of laughter or the clink of glasses. Mira had been here before—back when she still preferred being anonymous, before she became Zoey’s roommate. Back then, this place was just somewhere to drown out her own thoughts for a while.

It was mostly college kids tonight, same as always. Stressed-out students and burnt-out ones alike, all here to blow off steam in the only way they knew how: drink until the deadlines stopped existing.

She scanned the room absently before making her way to the bar. Her throat was dry; she needed something strong, something to burn the restless thoughts out of her system. She ordered a bottle of soju, the label cool against her palm when the bartender slid it over.

Sliding onto a barstool, Mira poured herself a shot and knocked it back, hissing softly as the warmth spread down her chest. It didn’t help much.

From the small stage near the corner, a drunken student was butchering New Jeans on karaoke, completely off-key but still somehow getting cheers and claps from the equally drunk crowd. It should’ve been funny. It wasn’t.

Mira took another sip straight from the bottle this time, tilting her head back and letting the alcohol sting her throat.

But her mind wouldn’t stay quiet.

Her body still remembered the way Zoey’s hips had pressed against hers earlier—the heat, the way their movements had synced without thinking, Zoey’s breathless laugh close enough to feel against her cheek—

Fuck.

She squeezed her eyes shut and dragged a hand down her face, trying to rub the memory away. It didn’t work.

That was when she noticed someone sitting beside her.

Mira glanced over casually, not really thinking—dark hair, cut into soft bangs, pale skin catching the dim light. For a split second, her heart leapt stupidly, ridiculously. Zoey.

Except… it wasn’t.

The woman turned her head at the exact same moment Mira was staring, and Mira blinked, caught in the act.

“Take a picture,” the woman said smoothly, her lips curling into an easy smile. “It’ll last longer.”

Her gaze lingered another beat deliberately before she turned back to her drink, lips twitching faintly. “Thought you were someone else, sorry.”

The woman chuckled softly, unbothered. “Can’t say I’ve ever been mistaken for anyone before.”

Mira shrugged, downing the second shot without flinching. “Guess there’s a first time for everything.”

There was a pause—not awkward, but charged. Then the woman leaned forward, propping her chin on her hand, dark eyes glinting under the low bar lights. “You know you’re cute, right?”

Mira tilted her head, finally giving her a proper look, assessing. “You’re leading with ‘cute?’” she said flatly. “Bold choice.”

The woman laughed under her breath, unoffended. “Fine. Hot, then.”

Mira smirked, one brow arching. “Better,” she said, swirling the bottle casually before refilling her glass.

That earned her a grin. “Emi,” the woman introduced, holding out a hand across the bar.

Mira met her gaze evenly, taking the offered hand, her grip firm, her thumb brushing deliberately slow along Emi’s knuckles before letting go. “Mira.”

“Pretty name,” Emi said, lips curling around the syllables like she wanted to taste them.

Mira hummed low in her throat, leaning her elbow on the bar, chin resting against her palm. “You always hit on strangers this fast, Emi?”

“Only the ones worth the effort.” Emi’s smile was lazy, confident. “You don’t look easy.”

Mira’s mouth curved slightly, slow and deliberate, like she’d already won something. “I’m not.”

Emi chuckled at that, leaning in a little closer, close enough that Mira caught the faint hint of her perfume. “Good. Easy’s boring.”

Mira tilted her head, matching her proximity without hesitation. “Glad we agree,” she murmured, her voice even, measured—like she was used to this dance.

Inside, though, she wasn’t thinking about Emi’s perfume or her smile. She was thinking about Zoey. About how she’d come here to stop thinking about Zoey. About how Emi was a distraction she maybe, desperately, needed.

And she was good at distractions.

-

Mira didn’t even know how it happened. One second she was talking with her, and the next she was pressed up against the rough brick wall outside, breath hitching as Emi’s lips crashed against hers.

The cold night air clung to her overheated skin, their mouths moving with messy urgency, teeth clashing as fingers tangled in fabric. Emi’s hands fisted into Mira’s hoodie while Mira’s palm slid up the small of her back, pulling her closer, deepening the kiss until their breaths mingled in short, hot bursts.

She could taste the soju on Emi’s lips, sharp and bitter, but beneath that—perfume. Sweet, heavy, suffocating. Not her.

Not Zoey’s.

Zoey always smelled like something soft, something fruity, something stupidly inviting. Strawberries or peaches or whatever overpriced body spray she drowned herself in before class. Emi’s perfume was different. Overpowering.

Stop.

She forced the thought out, angling her head to deepen the kiss.

You’re not supposed to be thinking about her, she muttered inside her own skull, nails digging lightly into Emi’s hip.

Then Emi let out this soft, breathy little sound against her mouth, and Mira’s stomach twisted, heat sparking low in her chest. It was good—better than it should’ve been.

Fine. Think of her. Use it. Pretend.

Mira’s teeth grazed Emi’s lower lip before she caught it gently between her own, pulling a soft whimper from her. The noise made Mira feel lightheaded, buzzing and raw, almost unsteady in her own skin.

Emi dragged her lips lower, down Mira’s jaw, leaving faint heat in her wake. Mira’s grip tightened unconsciously, her breathing coming faster as Emi’s mouth brushed her neck, slow and deliberate.

Don’t think. Don’t feel. Just—

Emi chuckled lowly against her skin, voice husky and teasing. “You holding up okay, Mir?”

The nickname hit like a spark to dry kindling.

Her breath caught—because it wasn’t Emi’s voice in her head anymore. It was Zoey’s. Zoey, soft and laughing, saying her name like it meant something.

Mira froze.

Emi leaned back slightly, brows pulling together in confusion, but before she could say anything, Mira shoved her gently but firmly back, creating distance between them.

Her heart was pounding, chest tight, stomach rolling like she’d been sucker punched.

“This—” Mira swallowed hard, running a shaky hand through her hair. “This was a bad idea. Fuck.”

“What?” Emi blinked, her lipstick smudged, breath uneven. “Wait, what are you—”

“I said I’m done,” Mira bit out.

Emi’s expression twisted into something sharp and incredulous. “You can’t just leave me out here all hot and bothered—”

Mira shot her a dry, humorless look over her shoulder. “Drink some water. I don’t know. Figure it out.”

Before Emi could respond, Mira was already walking away, boots striking hard against the pavement.



By the time she made it back to the dorm building, the alcohol had dulled into a warm buzz, but her head was pounding anyway. She slipped inside quietly, moving on muscle memory, half-expecting the silence to break under Zoey’s laugh from behind some corner.

But when she opened the door to their shared dorm, the place was dark and still.

She exhaled slowly, relief pooling in her chest. Good. She’s asleep.

She toed her shoes off carefully, trying to move as quietly as possible. Her fingertips brushed the light switch instinctively, but she stopped herself. No need.

She’d barely taken two steps inside when—

Click.

The lights came on, blindingly bright, and Mira flinched like she’d been flashbanged. She threw a hand up, squinting against the sudden glare.

“Mira?”

Zoey’s voice, low and groggy.

Mira blinked through the white haze until her vision adjusted, finding Zoey standing by the switch in an oversized sleep shirt, hair a messy halo, blinking blearily at her.

“Zo?” Mira rasped, throat dry.

Zoey tilted her head slightly, waking up more with each passing second, and then Mira watched her expression shift—soft confusion sharpening into something… unreadable.

“You have a little…” Zoey gestured vaguely at her own face, mimicking a circle around her mouth and jaw.

Mira frowned, brow furrowing. “What?”

“You’ve got…” Zoey trailed off, biting her lip, eyes flicking deliberately to Mira’s neck and back up again. “…stuff. Everywhere.”

Mira’s stomach dropped.

She brushed past Zoey wordlessly and went straight to the bathroom, flicking on the light, bracing herself on the counter as she stared into the mirror.

Lipstick.

Smeared across her mouth, jaw, and neck. A fucking mess of it.

Her chest squeezed tight, shame and frustration tangling hot under her skin.

“What the fuck,” she muttered under her breath, grabbing a rag and running it under cold water. She scrubbed at her skin until it turned pink, wiping away every trace, jaw tight the whole time.

Behind her, faintly, she heard Zoey shifting in the doorway.

“…Mira?” Zoey’s voice was soft now, careful in a way Mira hated.

Mira didn’t look at her. Couldn’t.

“You went to the bar..?” Zoey asked after a beat, her voice soft but edged with something Mira couldn’t quite place.

Mira nodded, eyes still on the bathroom mirror as she dabbed at the faint smudges of lipstick on her jaw. “Yeah… I did. Needed to clear my head.” Her tone was casual, but she kept her gaze trained on the rag in her hand, avoiding Zoey’s reflection.

Zoey leaned against the doorframe, arms loosely crossed, oversized t-shirt hanging off one shoulder. “Did you forget it was movie night?” she asked, quieter this time. “You were gone for a while.”

Mira froze for half a second, rag clutched in her hand. Shit. She had forgotten. They had a carefully planned schedule to sync up their free nights between classes and work—and she’d just blown theirs off.

“...Sorry,” Mira muttered, running the rag under cold water and wringing it out. “I forgot. We can still do it.”

Zoey hummed softly in response. It was meant to sound casual, but Mira heard the lack of warmth. She frowned slightly, glancing up at the mirror, but Zoey’s expression was unreadable.

For a moment, silence stretched between them, broken only by the soft drip of water from the rag into the sink. Then Zoey spoke again, voice deliberately light:

“Well… was she good, at least?”

Mira blinked, jerking her head up to stare at Zoey’s reflection. “…What?”

Zoey shrugged, pretending to fiddle with the hem of her sleeve. “A good lay?” she said, forcing a crooked grin. But Mira didn’t miss the way Zoey winced faintly at her own words, like she regretted them as soon as they left her mouth.

Heat crept up Mira’s neck, and she turned toward her, flustered despite herself. “Oh—no, we didn’t—” she stumbled, rubbing the back of her neck. “We only… made out. Nothing else.”

Zoey made a soft, thoughtful hum, nodding like that settled something for her. The tension in her shoulders eased just a little, and Mira caught the fleeting shift in her expression—like a flash of relief Zoey tried to hide.

“Alright, well,” Zoey said with a teasing grin, finally stepping back from the doorway, “since you ditched me to go swap spit with a rando, I get to pick the movie.”

Mira blinked after her, watching Zoey disappear into the living room. Her tone was playful, but something underneath it felt… off. Mira couldn’t put her finger on it, and it left a strange heaviness in her chest.

When she finally joined Zoey on the couch, Mira sank into her usual spot beside her, expecting Zoey to lean into her like she always did during movie nights. But this time, Zoey stayed curled up on the opposite end, blanket wrapped around herself. Mira wouldn’t admit it out loud, but the distance stung more than she expected.

Zoey was scrolling through movies when she suddenly wrinkled her nose and glanced sideways at Mira. “...Is that her perfume?”

Mira blinked, lowering her head slightly to sniff at herself. “Oh. Uh—yeah. That obvious?”

“Yeah,” Zoey muttered, nose scrunching as she waved a hand vaguely between them. “It’s strong. Feels like it’s… burning my nose hairs.”

Mira gave a small huff of amusement, tugging her hoodie over her head and tossing it across the room. “Better?”

Zoey’s grin softened, a bit warmer this time. “Better.”

Mira stared a second longer than she should’ve, warmth blooming low in her chest. But when Zoey finally turned back to the TV, curling deeper into the blanket, that warmth was replaced with something else—an ache she didn’t want to name.

Zoey ended up picking some action movie with three stars and a questionable plot, claiming it was “niche” and that “most people just didn’t get it.”

Mira didn’t argue. She just settled into the couch beside her, legs folded, fingers tapping lightly against her thigh as she stole glances at Zoey every now and then.

Zoey had the blanket wrapped around her shoulders like a cocoon, eyes fixed on the TV. But she was quiet. Too quiet. And Mira couldn’t help but wonder if she was the reason for it.

Finally, Mira shifted, tucking one leg under herself as she leaned slightly closer.

“Zoey?”

Zoey glanced over, eyebrows raised like she’d been pulled out of her thoughts. “Hm?”

Mira hesitated, gnawing at her bottom lip. “…Are you upset with me?” she asked softly. “I’m sorry I forgot about movie night.”

For a moment, Zoey just blinked at her, expression unreadable. Then, slowly, it softened. She looked down at her hands, fidgeting with the edge of the blanket. “It’s not that, I just—” She paused, lips parting like she wanted to say something, then shook her head quickly. “It’s nothing. Forget it.”

Zoey turned back to the movie, but Mira didn’t.

“No, Zo.” Mira reached out, wrapping her fingers around Zoey’s forearm before she could retreat any further. “Tell me.”

Zoey went still under her touch. Mira could see the debate flicker across her face—her lips pressing together, jaw shifting slightly, gaze darting everywhere but Mira. And then Zoey blurted out, almost accusingly:

“Was she a good kisser?”

Mira’s thoughts slammed to a halt.

“…What?” she managed, blinking at her.

Zoey’s brows furrowed as she turned to face her fully, a faint flush climbing up her neck. “Was she?”

Mira stared, still lost. “What—”

Zoey groaned dramatically, throwing her head back against the couch cushions. “We’re best friends, Mira! Aren’t we supposed to share stuff like this?”

Best friends. Right. That word landed heavier than usual.

Mira frowned, trying to gather her thoughts, but they felt scrambled, tangled, impossible to line up. “…I—I don’t know?” she sputtered finally.

“Well, I’m asking you!” Zoey shot back, sitting up straighter now, frustration bleeding through her tone.

“It was—fine? I guess?” Mira huffed, exasperated. “I don’t know! I wasn’t really thinking about how well she was kissing!”

Zoey narrowed her eyes, leaning in just slightly, her voice softer but sharper somehow. “…Then what were you thinking about?”

Mira’s chest tightened. Zoey’s hand found her shoulder, fingers curling around it as if she could shake the answer out of her. Her touch was warm—distracting—and Mira was suddenly far too aware of how close they were sitting, how little space there was between them.

She opened her mouth to respond, but everything was too much—Zoey’s hand, Zoey’s stare, the heat crawling up her own neck—and before she could stop herself, it slipped out:

“You.”

The word was quiet. Unsteady. But in the silence that followed, it might as well have been shouted.

Mira froze.

Zoey froze too, hand still on her shoulder, eyes wide and unblinking.

“…What?” Zoey breathed out finally, voice soft, almost disbelieving.

Mira’s throat felt tight, her pulse loud in her ears. She clenched her fists in her lap, nails digging into her palms. Fuck. She fucked up. But there was no undoing it now. The cat was out of the bag.

“I…” Mira swallowed hard, forcing the words out even as her chest constricted. “I was thinking about you.”

A heavy beat of silence passed. Mira finally glanced up at Zoey, catching the furrow between her brows, the way Zoey’s breath hitched like she wasn’t sure she’d heard her right.

“Why?” Zoey asked, barely above a whisper.

Mira inhaled sharply through her nose, jaw clenched so tightly it ached. She hated how vulnerable she felt under Zoey’s gaze. But she refused to look away.

“…Because,” she said finally, voice low but steady. “I like you.”

There. She’d said it. And now she sat there, heart pounding, bracing for everything between them to shatter.

Zoey blinked a few times, like she needed to reboot. “You… like me?” Her voice came out softer than Mira had ever heard it—uncertain, careful.

Mira swallowed hard but nodded anyway, slow and deliberate. Her fingers curled into her thigh, nails biting lightly into her skin. “Yeah.”

For a second, Zoey just stared at her. Then she leaned forward, sliding her hand over Mira’s, grounding her with that familiar warmth. “Like… like-like me?” Zoey asked, her brows quirking, trying to play it off light, but there was a nervous edge under it.

Mira’s lips twitched, part frustration, part embarrassment. “Yes.”

Zoey blinked again. “Like… like-like me in a not friends way, but, like… a more than friends way—”

“Yes, Zoey.” Mira’s voice was firmer this time, almost exasperated. “I like you. Not in a platonic way.”

Zoey raised a brow, fighting a smile. “Not in a platonic way?”

Mira let out a sharp breath, cheeks flushed as the words tumbled out before she could stop them. “Yes,Zoey! Non platonic in a I’m in love with you way!”

The air went still.

Zoey froze, lips parting like she couldn’t quite believe she’d heard right. “…Really?” Her voice cracked—just barely—but Mira caught it. Zoey scooted closer without even seeming to notice, knees brushing against Mira’s thigh.

Mira nodded once, steady this time. “Really.”

Zoey hesitated, then moved—climbing onto Mira’s lap like it was the most natural thing in the world. It wasn’t the first time Zoey had sat there; she’d done it before during movie nights, when she was cold, when she was clingy—but this felt different. Everything about this felt different.

Zoey cupped Mira’s cheeks with both hands, thumbs brushing over her skin. Up close, Mira could see the tiny freckles scattered across Zoey’s nose, the way her lashes trembled like she was holding her breath. “Really?” Zoey whispered again, softer this time, like she needed to hear it from an inch away.

Mira’s throat was tight, breath caught somewhere in her chest, but she forced the word out. “Yeah.”

And then Zoey kissed her.

It wasn’t hesitant. It wasn’t cautious. It was soft, slow, and intentional—like Zoey had been holding this back for years and was finally letting herself want. Mira’s brain short-circuited. Her heart was hammering against her ribs so hard she thought Zoey might feel it. Her hands instinctively grabbed Zoey’s waist, pulling her closer, like she could anchor herself there.

Zoey tasted faintly sweet—peachy perfume clinging to her, a hint of something fruity on her lips. It was overwhelming in the best way.

When Zoey finally pulled back, she didn’t move far—just rested her forehead against Mira’s, breathing a little heavier. Her lashes lifted slowly, revealing wide, glassy eyes. “I’ve… wanted to do that for a long time,” she murmured.

Mira’s lips curled into a small, dazed smile. “Yeah…?”

Zoey’s answering grin was soft, sheepish. “Yeah.”

She kissed her again before Mira could process it, deeper this time, hungrier but still unhurried—like she wanted to savor every second, every taste, every sigh. Zoey’s fingers trailed down Mira’s jaw, then into the soft baby hairs at the nape of her neck, sending shivers skittering down Mira’s spine.

Zoey’s tongue brushed teasingly against Mira’s bottom lip, and Mira’s breath stuttered before she parted her lips without hesitation. A quiet, involuntary groan slipped from her throat the second Zoey deepened the kiss.

She smiled against Mira's mouth, her breath warm. She kissed her like she had all the time in the world, unhurried but deliberate, exploring, tasting. Mira couldn’t think—couldn’t breathe—couldn’t do anything except kiss her back like she’d been starving for it.

Zoey bit gently at her bottom lip, tugging, and Mira hissed softly at the spark of sensation before letting out a shaky groan when Zoey soothed it with her tongue. Mira’s hands clenched tighter on Zoey’s waist, knuckles brushing her shirt hem.

Zoey sighed against her lips and pulled back just barely, their mouths brushing with every breath. Mira chased after her instinctively, pressing another soft kiss, then another, and Zoey giggled quietly, pushing gently at Mira’s chest. “Easy, tiger.”

Mira huffed, leaning back slightly, chest rising and falling fast as she stared at Zoey. Her pupils were blown wide, cheeks flushed, lips a little swollen.

Zoey’s thumb brushed lazily over Mira’s bottom lip, catching the faint dampness there. She leaned in until her breath was warm against Mira’s ear, her voice low and teasing. “Am I a good kisser, Mir?”

Mira’s breath hitched, and for once, she didn’t have the confidence she usually wore like armor. She nodded, still a little dazed. “…Amazing,” she breathed out.

Zoey grinned, pulling back just enough to look at her properly, cupping her chin and tilting it up. “Better than hers?”

For a second Mira’s brain blanked on who she meant—then she remembered, and her face heated immediately. She nodded quickly. “So much better.”

Zoey hummed softly, the sound low and satisfied, brushing her thumb over Mira’s jaw. “Good,” she whispered, before kissing her again.

 



She couldn’t get enough of kissing Zoey. It was too much and not nearly enough at the same time—like she’d spent years starving without realizing it, and now that she had a taste, she was desperate for more. Greedy.

Every press of Zoey’s lips was addictive. Her tongue slipped past Mira’s, slow and deliberate, like she was savoring her, and Mira’s chest felt tight with how badly she wanted to be consumed. She dug her fingers into Zoey’s waist just to ground herself, but it only made her more aware of the heat radiating between them.

By the time Zoey finally pulled back, Mira was dizzy, lungs aching. Their lips were swollen, glossed with each other’s spit, and Mira thought they looked obscene in the soft lamp light—but she couldn’t stop staring.

Zoey’s grin was lazy, knowing, before she dipped her head and nipped Mira’s cheek. The sting was brief, chased immediately by the wet drag of her tongue. It sent a wave of goosebumps racing down Mira’s arms, her thighs tightening involuntarily. She could die like this—actually die—and she wouldn’t even mind.

“I think you should make it up to me,” Zoey whispered, words brushing warm across her skin.

Mira blinked, her brain struggling to catch up. “…Make it up to you?” Her voice cracked faintly, so she curved it into a grin to cover. “For what?”

“For making me wait.” Zoey pressed a kiss to the edge of her jaw, another right under her ear. “For all this time before you finally confessed.”

Mira’s heart tripped over itself. She tried to laugh it off, but the sound came out breathless, shaky.

Zoey leaned back just enough to search her face. One brow arched, eyes glinting with challenge. “Well? Are you?”

Mira bit down on her lip. She wanted to be smug, wanted to have some clever comeback, but the warmth in Zoey’s eyes stripped her down too easily. “…And what if I don’t?” she managed, though it lacked bite.

Something shifted in Zoey’s expression. The teasing curled into softness, vulnerability flickering in her gaze. “Then you don’t have to.”

She started to slide off Mira’s lap.

Panic shot through her like a blade. Mira surged forward, grabbing Zoey’s wrist. “Wait. No—no, I want to.” The words tumbled out too quickly, too raw. “I thought we were just…” Her hand flailed vaguely, searching for a way to explain. “Doing a back-and-forth thing.”

Zoey blinked—and then laughed, bright and bubbling, like Mira had said the funniest thing in the world. “Oh my god.” She shook her head, still smiling. “So you want to?”

Heat climbed Mira’s neck. Her chest hammered like a drum she couldn’t silence, but she forced herself to nod. “Yeah. I want to.”

Zoey’s grin softened into something dangerous—sweet and smug and utterly unshakable. She laced their fingers together, tugging Mira gently toward her vvbn    bed.

When the back of Mira’s knees hit the mattress, she let out a startled gasp as Zoey gave the smallest push and she fell back, landing on the sheets with Zoey following immediately after.

Zoey kissed her again before she could even process it—messy, hungry, a sharp contrast to the earlier languid teasing. Mira groaned into her mouth, arching up without meaning to.

And then—light touches. Zoey’s fingers slipped under the hem of her shirt, skimming the skin of her stomach, barely-there brushes that made Mira shudder. She didn’t even realize her breathing had hitched until Zoey pulled back, just enough to look at her.

Her hands rested at Mira’s waist, tugging faintly at the fabric. Zoey’s voice was soft, careful, but it still made Mira’s stomach drop. “Can I?”

The sight of Zoey—eyes wide and shining, lips swollen and damp, holding herself still while she waited for Mira’s answer—was almost too much.

Her throat tightened. The cocky reply she might have made in any other situation wouldn’t come. She could only nod, trembling despite herself.

Zoey peeled the shirt away slowly, like she was unwrapping something precious. When it was gone, she tossed it aside without looking, her eyes fixed entirely on Mira.

Her teeth worried at her bottom lip as she whispered, “Beautiful.”

The word punched the air from Mira’s lungs. Her chest rose and fell too fast, every nerve in her body strung tight. She was shaking now, she knew it, but she couldn’t stop.

Zoey’s thumb swept lazy circles against her hipbone, and her grin turned knowing. “You’re trembling.”

Mira huffed, ducking in to kiss her again if only to shut her up, her pride clinging stubbornly. “Am not.”

But she was. God, she was. And Zoey knew it.

Zoey let out a soft sound into the kiss, flipping them with surprising ease until Mira found herself straddling her. The movement sent a jolt through Mira’s chest, her balance tipping for a second before her hands planted on either side of Zoey’s shoulders.

Zoey’s mouth was still under hers, warm and insistent, lips parting like she’d been waiting for Mira to settle there. Mira kissed her back, slower this time, savoring the press and pull, the faint catch of Zoey’s teeth on her bottom lip. Her hips brushed Zoey’s by accident, and she swore she felt Zoey’s breath hitch.

Heat pooled low in her stomach. God. This was already so much. Too much.

Zoey hummed against her mouth—low, content, like Mira was doing something right. Like she wanted more. The sound went straight through Mira, made her chest tighten with a mixture of pride and terror.

Then Zoey shifted, fingers slipping down to catch Mira’s wrist. She didn’t force, didn’t rush—just guided, slow and sure, until Mira’s hand brushed the hem of her pants. The fabric was warm under her palm, softer than it should have been, and suddenly Mira was all too aware of where Zoey was leading her.

Her stomach flipped violently.

Her fingers stalled at the waistband, pressing into the elastic but not daring to go further. She broke the kiss, just barely, her lips still brushing Zoey’s as she sucked in a shaky breath.

Zoey was looking at her now. God—her face. Her lips were swollen, eyes heavy-lidded and dark, cheeks flushed in a way that made Mira’s heart trip. She looked wrecked already—wrecked and waiting.

Waiting for Mira.

The thought alone nearly knocked her out of her own body.

“What are you waiting for?” Zoey murmured, her voice soft but edged with challenge. She tilted her head back into the pillow, just enough to look cocky even like this, eyes glinting with heat. “Scared?”

Mira huffed out a laugh, or tried to. It cracked in the middle, thin and too nervous to pass. “M’not.”

She was. God, she was.

Her whole body buzzed with it—this terrible mix of want and fear.

I don’t know what I’m doing.

Not really. Not like this.

She’d kissed girls. She’d let them touch her, made out until it was heated, messy, sometimes until the air itself felt too thick to breathe. But she always pulled away before it got here. Before hands had to wander lower. Before she had to give something back she wasn’t sure she knew how to.

Because this wasn’t autopilot. This wasn’t a distraction or a dare or a blur of alcohol. This was Zoey. This was her hand on Zoey’s skin. Zoey trusting her. Wanting her.

And Mira wasn’t sure she could do it right.

Do I tell her?

The words clawed their way up her throat, raw and humiliating before she even formed them. I’ve never fingered a girl before. She could already hear how it would sound—awkward, clumsy, like a kid admitting something stupid.

Yeah. That’d go over great.

No. No way in hell.

So she swallowed the words, pressed them down so deep they made her ribs ache, and kissed Zoey again instead. Desperate. Softer. Letting her lips say what her mouth couldn’t.

Her hand stayed frozen at the edge of Zoey’s waistband, trembling faintly against her skin. She pretended it wasn’t fear pinning her there. Pretended she wasn’t seconds away from bolting.

Just try. Just try.

She slipped her hand lower, under the waistband. Her fingers grazed the soft fabric of Zoey’s underwear and—

Heat.

Damp and unmistakable.

Mira swallowed hard. Her fingers twitched instinctively. Zoey’s breath hitched against her lips.

That did something to her. The reaction. The proof.

Mira kept kissing her—slower now, more deliberate. Letting herself feel the tremble in Zoey’s stomach under her hand, the way her thighs shifted to let her in.

She pressed there, over the fabric first, light and tentative. Testing.

Zoey’s arms came up around her neck and pulled her closer with a breathy chuckle. “Tease.”

There was no venom in it. Just amusement. Just want.

And that loosened something in Mira’s chest.

She let out a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding. Let her forehead press to Zoey’s. Her heart was hammering so fast she was sure Zoey could feel it too.

Okay, she thought. She’s still into this. You’re okay.

Mira adjusted her grip, her palm cupping Zoey more fully this time. She rubbed again—firmer, more deliberate. The way she did to herself late at night when Zoey wasn’t in the dorm and she could pretend no one could hear.

Zoey exhaled sharply, eyes fluttering shut. Her lips parted, soft and wet, and Mira watched in awe as her legs shifted open just a little more.

Mira’s breath stuttered.
She wanted to make her feel good.

And maybe she didn’t know everything. Maybe she didn’t have the perfect moves or the kind of experience Zoey probably thought she did. But maybe she could learn Zoey. Learn this.

She let herself focus on that thought, let it anchor her. She dragged the kiss out, slow and languid, because as long as Zoey was kissing her back, she didn’t have to move forward. Didn’t have to prove she knew what she was doing.

Zoey hummed against her lips, soft and low, and Mira felt her stomach knot. God, she loved that sound. Loved how warm Zoey felt beneath her, the way her hands kept sliding up Mira’s sides like she couldn’t decide where to touch her first.

If she just kept this going, maybe she wouldn’t have to—

Zoey pulled back slightly, breath fanning across Mira’s mouth, and whispered, voice wrecked and teasing, “I want your fingers, quit edging me.”

Mira froze, heat flooding her face. “Right, sorry.”

Her voice came out hoarse, lower than she meant. She swallowed hard, willing her hand to move like this was normal. Like this was easy. Like she’d done it a thousand times before.

She shifted awkwardly on the bed, her heart pounding so loud it filled her ears, and slipped her fingers under Zoey’s underwear and—

Oh.

Her breath stuttered in her chest.

Holy fuck. She was actually feeling her. Like, really feeling her. Not just imagining. Not just the ghost of it in her own head—this was real—slick heat against her fingertips, soft and warm in a way she had no idea how to process.

Zoey sighed underneath her, legs falling wider in a way that nearly undid Mira completely.

Mira’s pulse roared in her ears.

Zoey tilted her head and pressed kisses along Mira’s jaw, then down the curve of her neck, each one warm and wet and deliberate. It made thinking impossible. Her whole body felt like static, buzzing under Zoey’s mouth, under her hands.

Mira swallowed hard, forcing herself to focus, forcing her shaking hand to move. She circled Zoey’s clit slowly, experimentally, barely brushing at first just to test.

The reaction was instant.

Zoey jolted beneath her, breath catching on a shaky exhale, hips tilting ever so slightly toward her touch. Mira’s chest tightened at the sound, something molten curling low in her stomach.

So she did it again. A little firmer this time.

Zoey gasped softly, her thighs twitching beneath Mira’s hand, and God, the noise went straight to her head. Mira’s own breath stuttered, her confidence wobbling between exhilaration and panic. She tried again, slower, dragging her fingertip in small, uncertain circles.

Zoey’s body reacted to everything—her breath, her little shifts, every cautious press of Mira’s hand. And Mira… she couldn’t stop staring at her. Couldn’t believe this was real.

She thought maybe she could stay here forever—just keep touching Zoey like this and never move forward. Because this she could fake. This, she could handle.

But then Zoey shifted beneath her, restless, breathing heavy.

“Mira…” she breathed, voice rough around the edges, threaded with impatience and want, and God, hearing her name like that almost undid her.

Mira’s own breath caught in her throat, her stomach flipping violently. “Okay…” she whispered under her breath, barely audible. It wasn’t really for Zoey—it was for herself. A pep talk she wasn’t convinced by.

She slid her hand lower, hesitant, tracing along soft, slick folds, sending her nerves sparking.

Zoey shivered when Mira brushed a little too low, thighs twitching as she sucked in a breath.

Mira froze for half a second, then tried again, dragging her fingertips lightly along Zoey’s heat, trying to map her by touch alone. Left. Right. Up again. Down. Testing, learning, feeling.

Zoey gasped softly when Mira’s fingers grazed her clit again by accident, hips jerking before she even realized. Mira swallowed hard and did it one more time on purpose, and Zoey whimpered, breathy and quiet, and—holy shit, Mira wasn’t ready for what that sound did to her.

Her heart was hammering so fast she thought she might actually pass out.

And then—

She found it. The slick, soft press of Zoey’s opening. Her fingertips caught there, and suddenly her chest seized, her lungs locking tight.

Oh.

That was—okay. Okay.

Just do it.

She eased forward, trying to press a finger in, slow and careful.

Zoey shifted her hips, opening herself up without hesitation, trusting her completely.

And somehow, that made it worse.

It… didn’t go as smoothly as she thought it would.

Mira’s lungs felt like they were collapsing in real time. Her jaw clenched tight, determination and panic tangled together. Come on. Just do it. 

Zoey made a soft sound then—not the same as before. Less pleasure, more… uncertainty.

Her head lifted off the pillow, eyes hazy but brows knitting faintly. “Mira?” she breathed, quiet but questioning.

“I got it,” Mira muttered quickly, stubbornness kicking in. Her breath was shaky, and her face burned so hot it hurt. She tried again, fumbling, circling slightly, trying to angle her hand just right, praying Zoey couldn’t feel how clumsy she was.

Zoey’s head tipped back slightly, eyes fluttering half-open like she wanted to watch. And then something shifted in her expression.

Something dawning.

“Mira…” she said again, softer this time. Different.

Mira froze instantly, the air catching sharp in her throat. “…What.”

Zoey hesitated, lips parting like she was choosing her words carefully, but Mira already knew.

She felt it hit before Zoey even said it.

“Mira,” Zoey murmured gently, almost tenderly, “have you… never—?”

“No!” Mira blurted out before she could stop herself, heat flooding her neck, her face, everywhere. Her voice came out sharper than she intended, defensive even. “Shut up—just… give me a second.”

Her breath hitched as she buried her face against Zoey’s shoulder, refusing to meet her eyes. If she didn’t look, maybe she could pretend Zoey couldn’t see how red she was.

But her movements didn’t match her words. They were clumsy, jerky, more panicked than practiced.

Her chest was tight. Her whole body was tight. Her mind screamed at her.

Get a grip—

And then—hands on her shoulders. Gentle.

“Mira,” Zoey whispered, “wait. Just… stop.”

Everything in Mira went very, very still.

She slowly withdrew her hand, retreating until it rested uselessly against the sheets. Her chest heaved, her throat thick, and she hated how small her voice sounded when she asked, “…Did I mess this up?”

Zoey blinked up at her, startled. “What? No, God, no—”

Mira looked away, jaw tight, fighting the sting building behind her eyes.

Fuck. Now you’re gonna cry? Really?

“Mira, hey—wait, it’s okay—”

“I don’t want to do this anymore,” she muttered, shaking her head and trying to pull back, but Zoey sat up quickly, cupping her face before she could move away.

“Mira, hey,” Zoey said softly, smiling faintly but not mockingly, “you didn’t mess anything up. We can slow down. Talk. Breathe.”

“You think this is funny?” Mira rasped, narrowing her eyes despite the wobble in her voice.

“No.” Zoey shook her head, her lips quirking only because she couldn’t seem to stop smiling at her. “I don’t find it funny. I just—” She chuckled, pulling Mira back in, her hand cupping Mira’s face. Her thumb brushed clumsy tears from Mira’s cheek as she leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to her lips. “I think you’re cute.”

Mira scoffed, scrunching her nose and trying to turn her face away, trying to hang onto her stubbornness, but Zoey was still smiling, still kissing her, coaxing her back in.

She resisted for all of two seconds before her body betrayed her, leaning in, kissing her back with a shaky exhale.

The fight drained out of her, leaving only the warmth of Zoey’s mouth, the gentle steadiness of her touch.

Zoey pulled back just enough to brush her thumbs along Mira’s flushed cheeks, searching her face. Her breath came uneven, lips parted, pupils blown wide.

“You never f—”

“No.” Mira cut her off, sharp, defensive without meaning to.

Zoey blinked… and then giggled softly, brushing the tip of her nose against Mira’s. “Relax,” she whispered, voice husky but playful. “I can show you.”

Mira bit her lip hard, staring at Zoey’s face like she could read her thoughts if she tried hard enough—desperate for any hint of pity, disgust, regret… anything.

But Zoey just looked at her the same way she always did. Warm. Wanting.

“You’re not… turned off by it?” Mira managed, voice low, almost hesitant.

Zoey shook her head immediately and leaned in, pressing the softest kiss against Mira’s lips. “Nope,” she breathed between them, smiling faintly. “Quite the opposite, actually.”

Mira swallowed, her chest tight, and gave a small, reluctant nod.

“Good,” Zoey hummed, leaning back just enough to guide Mira’s hand down again, her touch featherlight but steady. Her voice dropped low, threaded with heat. “Alright… let’s try this again.”

Mira let Zoey move her, let herself breathe through the nervous tremor in her hands as Zoey nestled her palm back between her thighs.

“Take your middle finger,” Zoey murmured, her breath hot against Mira’s ear, “and—right there—”

Mira’s fingertip brushed where Zoey guided, and Zoey’s reaction was instant—a soft, shaky sigh slipping from her lips as her hips tilted subtly into the touch.

“Yeah, like that,” Zoey whispered, biting her lip, lashes fluttering as her head tipped back slightly.

Mira’s stomach flipped violently. She felt it—heat coiling, slick around her fingertip, impossibly tight and wet—and holy fuck, she was inside Zoey.

Her breath caught. Her thoughts blanked.

“Go on,” Zoey murmured, a soft plea ghosting out of her. “All the way in.”

Mira swallowed hard, forcing her body to move. Slowly, carefully, she eased her finger in deeper, and the sensation made her dizzy—warm and gripping and unbearably soft.

A groan escaped her before she could stop it, low and raw, echoing Zoey’s own shaky breath.

Zoey lay back against the pillows, one arm curling around Mira’s neck to tug her closer, the other skimming lazy circles against her hip. She pressed a languid kiss against Mira’s jaw and whispered, “Alright, baby… you can move.”

Mira inhaled sharply and nodded before she even realized it. She pulled her finger back slowly, feeling the drag, the resistance, before easing it forward again, cautious, testing.

“Like… this?” Mira asked quietly, glancing up through her lashes.

Zoey nodded immediately, a soft sound spilling from her throat as her hips shifted beneath Mira’s hand.

“Mm,” she breathed, voice catching faintly, “yeah… just like that.”

Mira tried again, a little steadier this time, letting herself fall into a rhythm. Her eyes stayed fixed on Zoey, drinking in every little twitch of her brows, every flutter of her lashes, every shift in her breathing.

Then Zoey sat up slightly, one hand sliding over Mira’s wrist to guide her, gently but sure.

“Up a little,” she murmured breathlessly. “To the left—”

Mira adjusted, and Zoey’s response was immediate: her head fell back against the pillows, a soft, choked moan spilling free.

“Fuck,” Zoey gasped, hands fisting weakly in the sheets. “Right there, Mira. God, yes.”

Mira’s breathing faltered, heat spreading low and fast through her body at the sound. She bit her lip, shifting slightly, the dampness between her own thighs making her clench around nothing.

Zoey’s voice turned quieter, breathier. “You can go a little faster,” she murmured, half a plea.

Mira’s hand obeyed without thought, her pace quickening, feeling Zoey’s hips rock ever so slightly to meet her. Her eyes flicked up, desperate to memorize every flicker of expression crossing Zoey’s face—every shaky inhale, every bitten-back sound.

Zoey gasped softly, whispering, “Mm—you’re doing so good, Mira… just like that—”

Mira’s throat tightened, the praise hitting her like a punch.

“Curl your finger,” Zoey murmured next, breathless, her voice fraying around the edges. “A little—”

Mira did, tentative, and Zoey’s reaction was instant: a sharp moan ripped from her throat, her hips bucking faintly, fingers digging into Mira’s shoulders.

“Fuck—” Zoey gasped, panting softly, “yeah, right there—God, Mira—”

Mira stared down at her, lips parted, chest heaving, and realized dimly that she was probably wetter than Zoey by now. She swallowed hard, breath trembling, and wasn’t sure how much longer she could handle this.

“Add another finger—” Zoey gasped, her voice breaking around the words. Her hand clenched weakly at the sheets, her chest rising and falling fast. “God—your fingers hit just right.”

The praise made Mira’s stomach flip violently, heat flooding straight through her, and she nodded without thinking, breath shaky as she carefully eased a second finger in.

Zoey’s hips jerked instantly, a strangled moan tumbling out of her throat before she could stop it. Her eyes squeezed shut, lashes damp, lips parted and trembling.

Mira froze, half-panicked she’d done something wrong, but Zoey’s hand came up blindly, finding Mira’s wrist and squeezing. A silent go, please.

Zoey nodded faintly, cheeks flushed and shining under the dim light. “Yeah,” she whispered hoarsely, voice frayed at the edges. “Keep going, baby.”

So Mira did.

She settled into a steady rhythm, fingers pumping in deep, curling just the way Zoey liked, guided by every sound spilling from her mouth. God, Mira’s wrist already ached, but she couldn’t bring herself to care—not when Zoey was unraveling like this beneath her.

Zoey shifted slightly, one thigh sliding between Mira’s parted legs, pressing her knee up just enough to make contact.

Mira almost saw heaven’s pearly gates—or in her case, hell’s fiery ones. Her breath caught hard in her throat, hips twitching involuntarily, but Zoey’s quiet, breathless laugh pulled her back from spiraling.

Before Mira could process it, Zoey hooked a hand around the back of her neck and yanked her down into a kiss—deep, messy, all heat and tongue and muffled gasps. Zoey moaned against Mira’s mouth, and Mira swallowed the sound greedily, answering it with one of her own.

By now Zoey’s slick coated Mira’s entire hand, dripping down her wrist, warm and soft and dizzying. Mira groaned low against Zoey’s lips, pushing her fingers deeper, faster, desperate to keep pulling those sounds from her.

“Keep going,” Zoey choked out, breaking the kiss just long enough to speak, her voice high and cracked. “Fuck—you’re doing so good for me, Mir.”

The words nearly undid her. Mira had to squeeze her thighs together, had to bite back a whimper, her chest heaving as she buried her face against Zoey’s neck. Her lips found warm, damp skin, and she couldn’t stop herself from licking, sucking, marking faintly—claiming without even realizing she was doing it.

Zoey’s hips rocked harder, meeting every thrust of Mira’s hand, soft moans spilling endlessly from her lips. “So—so good—” she gasped, tangling her fingers in Mira’s hair and pulling her closer, as if she couldn’t stand even a breath of space between them.

Everything blurred, too much and not enough at the same time—the tight heat around her fingers, the slick dripping down her wrist, Zoey’s voice breaking in her ear, the taste of her skin, the scent of sweat and something sweet and sharp.

And Mira didn’t even realize what she was doing until it hit.

The pressure had been building quietly, creeping up on her beneath the intensity of it all, masked by Zoey’s noises, Zoey’s heat, Zoey’s everything. She hadn’t noticed the small, unconscious grind of her hips against Zoey’s thigh, hadn’t noticed the tightening low in her belly—

—until it snapped.

White-hot pleasure crashed through her without warning, sudden and violent, her entire body jerking as her vision blurred and her breath stuttered out in a strangled moan.

She bit down on Zoey’s shoulder, muffling the sound instinctively, clinging to her like she might fall apart otherwise. Her body trembled, every nerve alight, her thoughts scattering into nothing.

Zoey blinked, breath still uneven, and tilted her head just enough to glance at her. “…Mira?”

Mira groaned against her skin, face hot, too wrecked to answer properly.

Zoey shifted under her, brows raised, trying to hold back a laugh but failing miserably. “Did you just—” Her lips twitched, a teasing smile breaking through. “Did you just come?”

Mira wanted the ground to swallow her whole.

She groaned louder this time, burying her face deeper against Zoey’s neck like she could disappear if she tried hard enough.

Zoey giggled softly, breathless, her fingers brushing along Mira’s jaw. “Oh my God, you did.”

Mira mumbled something incoherent into Zoey’s shoulder.

“What was that?” Zoey teased, tilting her head.

“No,” Mira croaked out finally, refusing to lift her face, cheeks burning so hot they ached.

Zoey raised an eyebrow, smirking. “No?”

“I’m fine,” Mira muttered hoarsely. “I got it. Just… give me a minute.”

Zoey laughed softly, the sound warm and sweet, leaning forward to press a lingering kiss to Mira’s temple.

“Okay,” she whispered, amusement laced through her tone but softened by something fond.

Once Mira finally got her bearings again, she swallowed hard, fingers twitching slightly as she started moving them again—slow at first, testing, before easing back into a steady rhythm. Her face was flushed red, the heat crawling down her neck to her chest, because God, she’d actually come first.

She was supposed to be the one in control here—the one making Zoey fall apart—not the one shaking and trying to remember how to breathe.

Yeah. She was never living this shit down.

But Zoey didn’t seem to care.

Zoey let out a low, broken groan, her hips instantly meeting Mira’s thrusts, grounding herself in the movement. One hand clenched in the sheets, the other sliding down her own stomach until her fingers found her clit, rubbing slow, deliberate circles.

Mira blinked, dizzy, a shiver tearing down her spine at the sight. Honestly, if Zoey kept doing that while moaning like that, Mira could probably come again right now.

“Just like that,” Zoey managed, breath ragged and uneven, a soft whimper breaking between the words.

The sound alone nearly undid Mira, but she forced herself to keep her pace steady, fingers curling deep inside until she felt that soft, spongy spot—the one she’d found earlier that made Zoey lose it.

Zoey’s reaction was immediate.

Her back arched off the bed, a startled moan ripping from her throat, loud and unrestrained. “Fuck—Mira—right there, don’t stop, don’t stop—”

Mira’s chest heaved, eyes glued to Zoey’s face, watching every twitch, every shift in expression, completely captivated. She curled her fingers again, hitting the spot perfectly each time, and Zoey’s legs trembled violently, thighs pressing inward like she was trying to trap Mira’s hand there forever.

The wet sounds between them filled the room, obscene and loud, and Mira nearly choked on her own breath, the heat in her stomach coiling tighter just from hearing it.

Zoey’s voice pitched higher, desperate, frayed around the edges. “I—I’m close, Mir, I’m—god, I’m gonna—”

And then she broke.

Zoey’s entire body arched sharply, back bowing as she came with a strangled, breathless cry, fingers digging into Mira’s wrist hard enough to bruise. Her thighs clamped around Mira’s hand as her body jerked, shuddering with each wave that tore through her.

Mira just stared, completely entranced, breath caught in her throat as she watched Zoey unravel. Her chest rose and fell wildly, damp strands of hair sticking to her flushed face, lips parted as soft, shaky whimpers escaped her with every aftershock.

It was… stunning.

Mira slowed her movements gradually, careful, drawing it out just a little longer until Zoey flinched faintly, pressing weakly against Mira’s wrist. Her thighs trembled hard, muscles twitching with oversensitivity.

Mira stilled instantly and gently slid her fingers free, Zoey letting out a sharp, choked sound at the motion.

For a moment, the only sound in the room was their breathing—ragged, uneven, messy.

Mira sat back on her heels, looking down at her slick-coated hand, chest still heaving. Should she… wipe it on the sheets? No. Gross. She’d rather wash it off—

She was halfway to scooting away when Zoey’s voice, hoarse and wrecked, cut through the haze.

“Where the hell are you going?”

Mira blinked at her, holding up her messy hand like it was self-explanatory. “To go—wash—”

Before she could finish, Zoey pushed herself up on shaky elbows, eyes heavy-lidded and glassy with bliss, and caught Mira’s wrist in one hand.

Mira froze. “…Zoey?”

Zoey didn’t answer. Instead, she leaned forward and slowly, deliberately, wrapped her lips around Mira’s fingers.

Mira’s breath hitched violently, her whole body going rigid as Zoey’s tongue slid over her skin, warm and wet and obscene, swirling lazily around each finger before sucking them clean one by one.

Her gaze never left Mira’s.

It was soft and sharp all at once, hooded and burning, and Mira swore she forgot how to breathe.

Zoey pulled back with a soft, wet pop, licking her lips as if nothing had happened. “There,” she murmured, voice low and ruined. “All clean.”

Mira just stared at her, still trying to process anything beyond the heat pooling in her stomach again.

“…Is it really?” she finally croaked, dazed. “Now your spit’s on it.”

Zoey rolled her eyes and grabbed Mira by the collar, yanking her closer. “Shut up,” she breathed, kissing her hard before Mira could protest.

Mira let out a soft, helpless moan against her mouth, tasting Zoey on her tongue, dizzy and drunk off her without meaning to be.



Zoey shifted on top of her, palms gliding up beneath Mira’s shirt, fingers brushing over warm skin. Her voice came out softer than she intended, breath hitching a little.

“Can I?”

Mira blinked up at her, wide-eyed, cheeks flushed a soft pink that nearly matched her hair. She hesitated just long enough for Zoey’s heart to stutter painfully in her chest… and then Mira gave a shaky little nod.

Zoey smiled faintly, almost relieved, and gently tugged the shirt over Mira’s head.

The sight that greeted her knocked the air from her lungs.

Mira laid beneath her, pink hair fanned out across the pillows like a halo, pale skin flushed from the heat between them, chest rising and falling unevenly. Her lips were parted, breathing shallow, pupils blown wide in the dim light.

Zoey let out a shaky breath, because God, she looked so divine right now it was unfair.

She’d been waiting for this—aching for it—for so damn long.

She’d given Mira every sign under the sun: letting her sit in her lap, pressing lazy kisses to her cheek, throwing out half-jokes about how she’d make such a good girlfriend, calling her pretty every chance she got.

And every single time, Mira would just roll her eyes, shake her head, and act like Zoey was kidding.

Zoey wasn’t kidding. She’d never been more serious in her life.

Her hands brushed along Mira’s sides now, fingertips tracing faint shapes into soft skin, thumbs grazing the dip of her waist. She could feel Mira trembling faintly beneath her, though whether from nerves or anticipation, Zoey couldn’t tell—maybe both.

Leaning down, she pressed her lips against Mira’s, kissing her long and slow, letting it build until Mira melted beneath her, her hands sliding up to cling faintly at Zoey’s waist.

Zoey pulled back just enough to breathe before lowering her mouth to Mira’s jaw, then her neck, leaving a trail of open-mouthed kisses along warm skin.

Her hands drifted up, cupping her through the thin lace of her bra, thumbs brushing lightly over the fabric. Mira jolted beneath the touch, a muffled sound slipping past her lips before she bit it back, squirming just slightly under Zoey’s weight.

Zoey smiled against her skin, whispering low near her ear. “You’re trying so hard to stay quiet, huh?”

Mira made a tiny noise in response, nails digging into Zoey’s hip as her head tilted back instinctively, offering up more of her throat without meaning to.

Zoey’s lips ghosted over her collarbone, teeth grazing lightly as she murmured, “Can I get rid of this, pretty girl?” Her fingers were already at the clasp of Mira’s bra, waiting for permission.

Mira’s breath came out shaky, chest rising as she closed her eyes and nodded. “…Yeah.”

Zoey smiled, soft and reverent, and unclipped it with careful fingers. Mira sat up a little to let her slide it off, and Zoey set it aside—only for her breath to immediately catch in her throat.

Zoey froze for a second, breath caught in her throat, eyes locked on Mira’s bare chest.

God. She’d imagined this a hundred times—maybe more—but nothing compared to actually having Mira like this beneath her, pink hair fanned across the pillow, flushed and breathing unevenly.

Her hand twitched like she wasn’t sure where to touch first. Finally, she let her fingertips skim up Mira’s sides, feather-light, until they brushed beneath the soft swell of her breasts.

“You’re staring,” Mira muttered, voice a little rougher than usual, cheeks pinking deeper.

Zoey dragged her gaze up to her eyes, a breathless laugh escaping. “Yeah. And?”

Mira rolled her eyes, but she couldn’t hide how her chest rose and fell faster.

Zoey leaned down slowly, placing a teasing kiss at the top of Mira’s sternum, then another, lower. Her palms cupped Mira’s breasts gently, thumbs brushing across her nipples, and she felt Mira jolt faintly beneath her touch.

Zoey smiled against her skin. “Sensitive?” she whispered, voice dipping husky.

“Shut up,” Mira shot back immediately—but her voice cracked, betraying her.

That only made Zoey’s grin widen.

She lowered her mouth until her lips brushed one nipple, kissing it softly first, testing, before flicking her tongue over it in slow, lazy circles. Mira sucked in a sharp breath, her fingers gripping the sheets tightly.

“Z—Zoey…” It slipped out before Mira could bite it back.

Zoey hummed against her, the vibration making Mira arch subtly into her mouth. Encouraged, she sucked gently at first, letting her teeth graze just enough to make Mira squirm, before pulling back slightly and blowing cool air over the wet skin. Goosebumps rose instantly, Mira’s thighs pressing together beneath Zoey’s hips.

“Fuck…” Mira whispered under her breath, tilting her head back into the pillows.

Zoey switched sides, latching onto the other nipple and teasing it with her tongue while her free hand kneaded the first, rolling it slowly between her fingers. Mira’s breath stuttered audibly, hand shooting up to bury in Zoey’s hair.

“God, you sound so good like this,” Zoey murmured against her before sucking harder, enough to pull a strangled, breathless sound from Mira’s throat.

“Don’t—” Mira gasped, nails curling tight in Zoey’s dark hair. “Don’t say shit like that.”

Zoey smirked without lifting her head. “Why not? It’s true.”

She pulled back just long enough to kiss along the underside of Mira’s breast, nipping and sucking softly until dark marks bloomed against pale skin—little reminders she couldn’t hide later. Mira let out a shaky, frustrated noise, half wanting to push her away and half wanting her closer.

Zoey slowed down deliberately, alternating between soft kisses and sharp sucks, dragging out every reaction until Mira was breathing raggedly beneath her, lips parted and pink, eyes heavy-lidded.

When Zoey finally lifted her head, her lips were swollen, cheeks flushed, and Mira looked wrecked already—hair messy, nipples swollen, chest rising and falling fast.

Zoey brushed her thumb over one, gently circling it, still not ready to move lower. “God, Mira…” Her voice cracked with want. “Do you even know what you do to me?”

Mira opened her mouth like she wanted to come up with something sharp, but all that came out was a soft, shaky sound, and Zoey’s smirk turned slow and wicked.

“Thought so,” Zoey murmured, leaning down again to kiss across Mira’s chest. “You’re not used to someone touching you like this, huh?”

Mira’s throat bobbed, but she didn’t answer—couldn’t. Her hand just tightened in Zoey’s hair, pulling her closer instead.

Zoey grinned against her skin, letting her tongue swirl one more time before pulling back, looking down at Mira’s flushed face with dark, hungry eyes.

Zoey trailed her kisses lower, taking her sweet time, lips ghosting down Mira’s sternum, over her ribs, until she reached the soft skin of her stomach. She pressed a kiss there, then another, letting her teeth graze lightly before sucking gently until faint marks bloomed. Mira’s stomach tensed under the attention, a shaky breath escaping her.

And then Zoey ducked lower, mouth hovering right above her navel—before deliberately kissing around it, slow and messy, before sucking right over it.

Mira squirmed beneath her, head pressing back into the pillow. “Zoey… what are you doing?” she breathed out, voice already wrecked around the edges. “Why are you eating out my bellybutton?”

Zoey pulled back just enough to giggle, cheeks pink, eyes sparkling with mischief. “Because it’s funny.” She placed another obnoxiously loud kiss just beside it and snorted softly. “Someone’s impatient.”

Mira rolled her eyes, trying to act unaffected, but the flush climbing her cheeks betrayed her. “…You’re ridiculous,” she muttered, sitting up just enough to hook her thumbs into the waistband of her pants. In one swift, impatient motion, she shoved them down, kicking them off to the side before settling back on the bed. She refused to meet Zoey’s eyes, looking anywhere but at her. “Well…?”

Zoey blinked for a second, caught off guard by her eagerness, then grinned slow and wicked. “God, you’re so needy.”

M’not needy,” Mira shot back immediately, jaw tight.

“Mmhm,” Zoey hummed like she didn’t believe her for a second, leaning down until her face was level with Mira’s hips. “Whatever you say.”

Her fingers brushed teasingly along the hem of Mira’s panties, and that’s when she noticed it—the dark, damp spot clinging to the soft fabric. Zoey’s grin turned feral.

She looked up with a raised brow, smug.

“Don’t say anything,” Mira warned through gritted teeth, face now fully crimson.

Zoey chuckled, voice low and teasing. “Wasn’t gonna…” She slid the panties down Mira’s thighs slowly, dragging them past her knees, savoring every second. And when the soaked fabric finally peeled away, a thin string of slick clung stubbornly before breaking. Zoey froze for a breath, pupils blown wide.

“Holy shit…” Zoey whispered, voice breaking into a breathless laugh. “All this from fingering me earlier? Fuck, Mira.”

Mira’s ears burned red. “Zoey,” she hissed, glaring, but the glare faltered as soon as Zoey glanced up at her with that lazy, predatory grin.

“You liked touching me, huh?” Zoey murmured, almost reverent, as she ran two fingers teasingly along Mira’s folds, just barely brushing where she was most sensitive. Mira jolted faintly at the touch, a sharp breath escaping her.

“Zoey,” she warned again, but her voice cracked halfway through her name.

Zoey smirked, leaning in closer, fingers gliding deliberately slow as she gathered slick and spread it with teasing pressure. “God, you’re soaked, baby.”

Mira’s breath hitched, her lashes fluttering as she turned her face into the pillow to hide the color flooding her cheeks. “Don’t—don’t say that.”

Zoey tilted her head, feigning innocence. “Don’t say what? That you’re dripping for me right now?”

“Please,” Mira muttered, voice muffled behind her hand. “Shut up.”

Zoey bit back a laugh, biting her lip instead, but she couldn’t resist leaning down to whisper against Mira’s thigh. “Call me a damn slip-and-slide with how I’m about to—”

Zoey,” Mira groaned, dragging her hands down her face in frustration, “I swear to god I’m about to deteriorate.”

That broke Zoey entirely—she laughed, head dropping against Mira’s stomach, her shoulders shaking. “God, I love you,” she said between little snorts, still breathless, but then she lifted her head, expression softening into something hungrier.

Her laughter faded as she crawled up, bracing one elbow beside Mira’s head. She kissed her slowly, deep and messy, her free hand sliding down, pressing her palm against Mira’s clit in a lazy, circular motion.

Mira gasped into the kiss, hands shooting up to grip Zoey’s shoulders.

Zoey pulled back just enough to watch her face, her lips swollen and parted. “Like that?” she whispered, thumb barely brushing where Mira needed her most.

Mira nodded jerkily, breath shaky, arms wrapping around Zoey’s neck like she couldn’t decide whether to pull her closer or push her away.

Zoey’s fingers kept circling, deliberately light, never quite giving Mira what she wanted. Mira groaned low in her throat, frustrated, her hips twitching against Zoey’s hand as she choked out, “Zoey…”

“Fine, fine,” Zoey said softly, pressing a kiss to Mira’s cheek, her grin returning faintly. “Only because you’re cute.”

Without warning, Zoey slid one finger inside, slow and steady, feeling Mira tense and then melt beneath her.

Mira’s head fell back against the pillow, a moan tearing free despite her attempts to bite it back. Her thighs clamped around Zoey’s hand as she scrambled for purchase against Zoey’s back, nails digging lightly into her skin.

Zoey rested her forehead against Mira’s, panting softly, lips brushing against hers when she whispered, “Fuck… you’re so tight.”

Mira whimpered softly, clinging tighter, her chest heaving against Zoey’s.

Zoey groaned low in her throat as she felt Mira clench hard around her finger, dragging her thumb lazily over her clit at the same time, her movements slow and deliberate—determined to unravel her, piece by piece.

Zoey kept her rhythm steady—slow enough to make Mira tremble, deep enough to make her lose control with every curl of her finger. Her thumb never stopped tracing lazy, perfect circles over Mira’s clit, each movement dragging another ragged sound out of her throat.

Mira was holding on by threads.

Her nails dug crescent-shaped marks into Zoey’s shoulders, her breaths coming quick, shallow, uneven. She kept trying to press her lips together, biting them hard to hold back the sounds threatening to spill out—but her body betrayed her, hips arching into Zoey’s touch like instinct.

“Zoey—” Mira gasped, finally breaking her silence, voice high and shaky.

Zoey’s lips curved into a soft, wrecked smile, leaning close enough that her breath brushed hot against Mira’s ear. “That’s it,” she whispered, low and coaxing. “Don’t hold back on me. I want to hear you, baby. Please.”

Mira shook her head faintly, her voice coming out ragged, “I— I can’t—”

Zoey kissed along her jaw, slow and lingering, murmuring against her skin between each press of her lips. “Yes, you can… just let go for me.”

She shifted, adding a second finger without warning, and Mira gasped sharply, her whole body jolting beneath Zoey’s.

“Oh, fuck—” Mira’s breath caught, the sound breaking into something almost like a whimper.

Zoey’s chest tightened at the sound, heat rushing through her. She kept her forehead pressed against Mira’s, watching her every twitch and stuttered breath. “That’s it, baby. God, you sound so fucking pretty when you let me hear you.”

Mira tried to bury her face in Zoey’s neck again, muffling her noises against her skin, but Zoey pulled back just enough, catching her chin gently and forcing her to meet her gaze.

“No,” Zoey murmured softly but firmly, her eyes dark and steady on Mira’s. “Look at me.”

Mira’s lashes fluttered, her gaze hazy, struggling to focus through the overwhelming heat twisting low in her stomach.

“That’s it,” Zoey breathed, her voice shaky now too, fighting to keep herself grounded while she watched Mira come undone. “Stay with me… let me see you, Mira.”

Zoey picked up the pace, her thrusts deeper now, curling perfectly with every motion. Every stroke had Mira twitching beneath her, her breath hitching, thighs trembling, fingers curling into the sheets like she was drowning. Zoey’s thumb pressed just a little harder, circling over Mira’s clit with devastating precision until she was shaking under her, helpless against the relentless rhythm.

She kissed her again, messy and deep, swallowing Mira’s broken sounds as their hips moved together. Mira panted against her mouth, each breath shallow and shaky, her soft little gasps making Zoey’s chest ache with want.

Zoey pulled back just enough to watch her, lips hovering barely an inch away. Mira had her eyes squeezed shut, teeth digging into her bottom lip like she was trying to stay silent, trying to keep herself together.

Zoey slowed her hand to a stop, and Mira’s lashes fluttered open, confused, dazed.

“Keep your eyes open,” Zoey murmured, voice low, almost a growl.

Mira let out a shaky scoff, trying to play it off even as her cheeks burned hot. “What is this, a staring contest? I can’t help it when you’re literally fingering me into oblivi—” she broke off with a sharp, desperate moan as Zoey curled her fingers hard, dragging over that perfect spot. Mira’s hips jerked up instinctively, chasing the pressure.

Zoey smirked softly, brushing her lips along Mira’s jaw without kissing yet. “Keep your eyes open,” she said again, slower this time, firm.

Mira swallowed hard and nodded, quiet this time, her gaze hazy and heavy-lidded.

“Good girl,” Zoey breathed, the words rough, her voice low and wrecked, like she was barely holding herself together too.

She started moving again—slow at first, dragging her fingers deliberately, curling just right every time before picking the pace back up until Mira was trembling beneath her again.

“You hear that?” Zoey whispered, her lips ghosting against Mira’s cheek, warm breath fanning over her flushed skin. “You hear how wet you are?”

Mira’s breath stuttered, her lashes fluttering, and Zoey felt her clench around her fingers like her body was answering for her.

“Look at you,” Zoey cooed softly, glancing down for a moment, watching the way Mira took every thrust so easily. “Taking me so fucking well… god, you feel amazing.”

Mira risked a glance down, too, cheeks going impossibly red, then immediately hid her face against Zoey’s shoulder with a muffled groan.

Zoey chuckled softly, tilting her head to press slow kisses against Mira’s neck. “Oh… you like that, huh?” Her tone shifted, softer but teasing, like she was unraveling a secret Mira didn’t want to admit. “You like it when I tell you how good you feel when I’m fucking you?”

Mira let out a choked, broken sound she couldn’t swallow down in time, her body tightening around Zoey’s fingers in response.

Zoey grinned against her skin, dragging her lips down her neck, sucking at the soft skin there until she knew it would leave a mark. “Mmm,” she hummed lowly. “Keep clenching around me like that, and I’m gonna start thinking you really like my fingers inside you.”

Mira let out a soft, shaky grunt, trying so hard to sound unaffected, though her voice cracked. “You… you sure do talk a lot.”

Zoey smiled against her jaw, nipping her gently, feeling her tremble harder beneath her. “Do I?” she murmured, slow and deliberate, curling her fingers deep again just to hear Mira gasp.

Her free hand trailed up Mira’s side, fingertips brushing over flushed skin, teasing along the edge of her ribs before sliding higher to cup her breast, thumb circling lazily around her nipple.

Mira sucked in a sharp breath, her hips jerking helplessly again, her noises getting harder to hold back.

Zoey leaned in closer, her lips brushing Mira’s ear as she whispered, low and wrecked, “Then tell me to stop talking.”

Mira didn’t answer. She couldn’t.

Zoey smiled, slow and wicked, feeling Mira’s whole body trembling beneath her. “That’s what I thought,” she whispered, pumping into her harder, faster, each thrust dragging another helpless, muffled sound out of Mira’s throat.

She didn’t ease up at all. Her thrusts were harder, deeper, curling perfectly with every motion, relentless now. Her thumb pressed tighter over Mira’s clit, drawing tight circles that had Mira shuddering, her whole body arching up helplessly.

Mira’s nails dug into Zoey’s shoulders, clinging like she couldn’t hold herself together anymore. Her head tipped back, soft gasps spilling out against Zoey’s cheek before she tried to muffle herself against her mouth.

“Zoey—” she gasped, breathless, her voice cracking on the syllable. “Z-Zoey, please—don’t stop—”

Zoey smiled softly against her lips, brushing a kiss there before speaking, voice low and sweet, almost soothing despite how rough her pace was. “I’m not stopping, pretty girl. Not until you come for me.”

She shifted slightly, angling her wrist, curling her fingers perfectly as her thumb pressed harder.

Mira tried, she really tried, biting down on her lip until it almost hurt, but the next curl of Zoey’s fingers had her choking out a shaky moan she couldn’t swallow in time.

“That’s it,” Zoey whispered, voice low and rough, kissing her through it. “That’s my girl.”

Her pace quickened again, harder, sharper, and Mira completely lost the rhythm of her breathing. Her hips started meeting Zoey’s thrusts without thought, small, helpless movements as she clung tighter, like her body was begging even when her mouth wouldn’t.

“Zoey—fuck!” Mira’s voice cracked, breaking into a breathless whimper. “Don’t stop—”

Zoey groaned softly at the sound, pressing their foreheads together, her lips brushing Mira’s as she spoke. “I’m not stopping,” she breathed, deep and wrecked. “Not when you’re falling apart so pretty for me. You feel that? How close you are?”

Mira nodded frantically, eyes glassy, breath stuttering as her thighs shook against Zoey’s hips. Her whole body was arching into every touch now, chasing it, needing more without saying the words.

“You’re doing so good,” Zoey whispered, her tone a perfect mix of praise and control, kissing down Mira’s neck, sucking at the flushed skin until she knew it would leave a mark. 

A strangled sound slipped out of Mira, her hands clutching at Zoey’s back like she might break apart if she let go.

Zoey moved faster, thrusting into her deep and hard, her thumb never letting up its relentless pace until Mira was trembling violently beneath her.

“Come on, Mir,” Zoey coaxed softly, kissing along her jaw, “let go for me.”

Mira shook her head weakly, breath hitching, trying to hold on even as her body betrayed her. “I—I can’t—”

“Yes, you can,” Zoey murmured, curling her fingers perfectly again and again, watching Mira’s face twist with every stroke. “I’ve got you. Let go for me, Mira.”

That was all it took. Mira gasped, the sound sharp and broken as her body finally gave in. Her back arched hard, pressing flush against Zoey’s chest as she came, shaking apart in her arms. Her moans spilled freely now, soft, desperate sounds against Zoey’s mouth as she clung to her tighter than ever.

Zoey held her through it, slowing her pace only when Mira’s trembling became too much, kissing her softly, soothing her with quiet praise. “That’s it… that’s it, baby. So perfect. So fucking perfect.”



Mira blinked up at the ceiling a few times, dazed, her lashes sticking together from the wetness blurring her vision—tears she hadn’t even realized had slipped out. Her chest rose and fell in shallow, shaky breaths, every inch of her still humming, trembling faintly with aftershocks.

Holy. Fuck.

She didn’t… she didn’t know Zoey got down like that.
She really didn’t.

Her body still twitched in soft, involuntary pulses, clenching around nothing and making her hyperaware of every lingering sensation. Zoey’s fingers were still inside her, dragging out those fading waves, and Mira had no choice but to ride them until she was left panting, boneless, and completely wrecked.

When Zoey finally eased her hand back, Mira whimpered quietly without meaning to—the sudden emptiness making her thighs twitch.

She opened her eyes in time to catch Zoey staring at her slick fingers. Mira felt her heart lurch, warmth crawling up her neck, but before she could form words, Zoey brought those same fingers to her lips and slowly sucked them clean.

Her gaze never left Mira’s.

Zoey groaned low in her throat, dark lashes fluttering shut for half a second like she was savoring the taste. “Fuck, Mir,” she muttered hoarsely, pulling her fingers free with a soft pop. “You taste so good.”

Mira made a strangled, choked sound and immediately threw an arm over her face, as if hiding could erase what just happened. But the image of Zoey’s mouth around her fingers was already burned into her mind, and her body betrayed her with another sharp clench.

Zoey shifted beside her, and the mattress dipped. “Mira?”

Her voice was soft now—tentative, almost shy.

Mira hesitated before lowering her arm, blinking at Zoey’s expression. The low-eyed, sharp, commanding Zoey from just minutes ago was gone. In her place was someone softer, cheeks a little flushed, brows slightly furrowed with concern.

“You okay?” Zoey asked, voice barely above a whisper. “Need water? Or… anything?”

Mira exhaled a long, shaky breath, feeling heat creep up her neck again. She shook her head slowly. “Are you…” Her voice cracked, so she cleared her throat and tried again. “Are you really the same Zoey from earlier?”

Zoey chuckled quietly, leaning over to rest her chin on Mira’s shoulder, curls brushing against Mira’s cheek. “Sorry,” she murmured with a sheepish grin. “I… get a little too into it sometimes.”

Mira raised an eyebrow, finally glancing over at her. “A little?” she deadpanned, though her voice came out softer than intended.

Zoey just smiled wider, leaning in to press a gentle kiss against Mira’s cheek. “You didn’t seem to mind,” she teased, voice dropping a little lower. “Not with the way you were moan—”

“Okay, we’re done here.” Mira groaned, cheeks flaming as she rolled over and curled toward the wall, presenting Zoey with nothing but her back.

Zoey laughed softly behind her, scooting closer until their bare legs brushed. Warm kisses trailed down Mira’s shoulder, then along her spine.

“Mm, no,” Zoey murmured between lazy kisses, “we’re definitely not done here.”

Mira opened her mouth to snap back, but then Zoey whispered it, so soft she almost didn’t hear:

“I don’t know if you didn’t hear me earlier… but I love you too.”

Mira’s body froze.

She turned slowly, finding Zoey’s eyes watching her with a quiet vulnerability she rarely showed. It made something ache deep in her chest. Mira swallowed hard before curling into Zoey’s neck, arms sliding around her waist like she was afraid she’d disappear if she let go.

“Thank god,” she whispered, voice muffled against Zoey’s skin.

Zoey let out a shaky breath, snorting softly as her hand came up to cradle the back of Mira’s head. She pulled the blankets over them both, tugging Mira impossibly closer, not caring about the sticky heat clinging between them.

Mira relaxed into the warmth, letting her eyes flutter shut. “Well,” she murmured quietly, lips brushing against Zoey’s collarbone, “this was… a rather good first experience.”

Zoey froze, her arms stiffening slightly around her. Mira frowned and blinked up at her just in time to see Zoey pull back, her expression twisting into shock.

“Wait.” Zoey’s voice was a little too high-pitched. “Mira, this was your first time?”

Mira blinked slowly, like she didn’t see the issue, and gave a small nod.

Zoey just stared at her, jaw slack, before sputtering. “Why didn’t you tell me?! God, Mir, I could’ve—I don’t know—made sure it was perfect! I wouldn’t have been so rough with you—”

Mira rolled her eyes and tugged Zoey back down, burying her face against her shoulder again. “It’s fine,” she said softly, voice more vulnerable than she meant it to be. “It was perfect. Because it was you.”

That shut Zoey up instantly.

For a moment, there was just silence between them, broken only by their uneven breathing. And then Mira heard it—quiet sniffles muffled against her hair. She pulled back to find Zoey’s eyes glassy, lower lip trembling.

“Why are you crying?” Mira whispered, somewhere between startled and exasperated.

“B-because—” Zoey’s voice cracked, and she gave a watery laugh that made Mira’s chest tighten. “Because you… you trusted me with this. And I—fuck, Mira, I just—”

Mira sighed softly but smiled despite herself, reaching up to cup Zoey’s damp cheeks and pull her closer until Zoey’s face was buried against her neck again.

She held her tight, feeling Zoey tremble faintly as she cried into her shoulder.

Mira couldn’t believe this girl—this ridiculous, chaotic, infuriating girl—had just made her come so hard she saw stars… and was now sobbing about it.

And somehow, she wouldn’t have it any other way.

Notes:

Yum