Archive of Our Own ^beta

Rumi inhaled deeply, letting the hot steam and wafting scent of peppermint and eucalyptus flood her senses. 

The baby hairs at the edge of her hairline curled with the moisture, tickling her temples and the back of her neck. She relished how light she felt after pulling up her freshly washed braid into a towel and resting her head against the edge of the spa. The ceiling blurred out of focus as her eyes drifted shut, as she let the ambiance of their newly constructed bathhouse lull her into a half-conscious nap. 

It had been a little over a month since they’d banished Gwi-ma from this world and created the new honmoon, and life was good. 

Well. Mostly good. 

When pitted against the threat of a demon apocalypse (bad) and being rejected by your best friends (worse), anything is good. So, yeah, life was mostly good. 

The first couple weeks were strange. Taking a break felt weird after all the chaos and stress, but they knew they needed it. And so they tried to settle into the new normal - waking up slow, having breakfast together (usually in near silence), going to the local spa for the afternoon, having a pre-show amount of calories for dinner, then staying up and watching “movies” until Zoey fell asleep on the couch and Mira scooped her up and carried her to bed. It was so mundane it almost felt normal. 

It was anything but. 

Sure, there was still the unbreakable bond between them; the undeniable connection between friends who had gone through so much to save the world together, three hunters who had completed their duty and were now free to enjoy the spoils of their labor. 

But their usual levity was gone. A comfortable silence at the dinner table would grow stale in an instant, souring without warning into something tense. Like a storm on the horizon that never quite manifests; a breath before a scream that never comes. 

Rumi got used to it after a while. At first she panicked whenever that unnamed tension bloomed between them - were they really accepting of her patterns? Or had they just played along for the sake of defeating Gwi-ma? Sometimes she swore Mira and Zoey’s eyes lingered on her forearms, the markings catching their eyes under the low light of a yellowish lamp. 

The fear would keep Rumi awake at night. Did the visual reminder make them uncomfortable? Did they ever look at her and regret welcoming her back? 

Maybe they just wanted to forget it all - Rumi knew she did. The freedom of not having to cover up wasn’t worth this lingering fear that she had changed their dynamic irrevocably. 

Mira and Zoey were exceedingly gentle with her in the weeks to follow. Rumi still noticed their lingering stares whenever the iridescent scars moved in the light, but the insecurity stopped gnawing at her over time. She supposed they did look interesting, especially to people who had seen them so often but never had a chance to really look. 

And ever since they had woven the new honmoon, the marks weren’t just a muted purple anymore. They shifted and changed with the light, like oil spilled on black water. 

She, too, began to notice how they pulsed whenever she exerted herself or held back a particularly strong emotion. There was something compelling about the way they weren’t just on her anymore; they were part of her. They lived in her skin like a mirror, exposing the reality of what she was, the proof of what she - what they - had accomplished, despite everything. She looked at them and vascillated between neutral fascination and shame-fueled disgust. 

They never really talked about it. Not at first. 

It was just the looking, mainly. She would hand Mira a pan for the eggs, and Mira would move slowly to take it from her, discretely eyeing the exposed skin below the hem of her sweater. She would curl her knees up under her chin on the couch during movie nights, and Zoey’s line of sight would casually drift from the turtle documentary to her exposed elbow. 

It happened most often, of course, at the bathhouse. 

She wasn’t kidding about wanting to go every day of their hiatus. It became an essential part of their routine, so much so that Bobby eventually suggested renovating the floor below their penthouse into their own private spa. Their singles had skyrocketed back up the charts after their final show, and he claimed they could more than afford it. 

Besides, he argued, having a team of masseuses at their fingertips wasn’t a bad idea in the long run. Deep tissue massages can be very beneficial during times of stress, and tours can be really stressful, so really it was an investment in their health. (And, also, his - they were pretty good at reading between the lines after so many years with him.) Figuring he had more than earned the right to endless spa time after all the stress they’d just put him through, they relented. 

And so, as of yesterday, they had their own personal bathhouse, just a flight of stairs away. They told Bobby he could use it anytime, as long as he confirmed they weren’t home before coming over (walking in on a man in nothing but a towel was awkward enough the first time.) But he was away on a business trip until the end of the week anyway, so the bathhouse debut was all theirs. 

The main room contained a bath, two hot tubs, and a large rainshower in the corner, along with a place to change and a small towel station. The cleaning staff would come in every night to sanitize and wash dirty towels, but other than that it was all theirs. A safe, private place where Rumi could come and reveal herself under the hazy yellow light, now free of the worry that a stranger’s gaze would linger, wondering what was wrong with her. Now it was only her friends’ gazes that would linger, which she supposed she’d grown accustomed to over the past month anyways. 

She sank deeper into one of the hot tubs, eyes half lidded in repose, and smiled to herself. She had promised Zoey and Mira she would wait for them so they could break in their new spa together, but they were taking so long coming back from their shopping trip and the night was especially chilly, and frankly she just couldn’t wait any longer. She knew they would forgive her once they felt the pressure of the water jets. 

She made a mental note to thank Bobby for coordinating the renovation, and getting it done so quickly - his motives might’ve been somewhat selfish but damn, did he know how to spoil them. He truly did not spare any expense; this place was the meaning of luxury. One of the walls in the steam room even had a built in waterfall. Maybe she would head there next. Then the sauna. Then maybe the hot tubs again. God, this was the best idea he’d ever had. She could hardly wait for the massage appointment they had made for next week - Bobby claimed he’d hired the most acclaimed masseuses in the city, and that the massage table room was even more relaxing than the spa room. Rumi sighed at the thought of it. 

“Having fun in there, princess?”

Mira’s low voice echoed across the spa room, waking Rumi from her half-sleep.

“Rumiii, you were supposed to wait for us!” Zoey whined and pushed past Mira in the doorway. “I wanted us to all sit down in the spa together at the exact same time, like we did at the bathhouse. It was going to be a full circle moment!” Zoey’s head tilted back on a groan. 

Rumi turned her head back to the door, rolling her eyes at Zoey’s melodrama. “You guys were supposed to be back hours ago, you can’t expect me to wait forever.”

Zoey and Mira exchanged a look - subtle, but Rumi had known them for years, and could tell they were holding back conspiratorial smiles. Hm. She filed that away for later.

“Yeah, that’s fair. Sorry, got caught up at the market,” Mira took off her glasses, now foggy with the steam in the air, and began undressing. 

“One of the stalls had these little clay turtle figurines, and they were all different colors and some even had little faces painted on them-” she began digging in her small bag, producing three lumps wrapped in brown paper- “this girl made them and painted them herself and they’re so cute, I got one for each of us!” 

Unwrapping the lumps, Zoey presented three turtle figurines. One had a lavender shell, white swirly patterns glittering under the spa lights; another with a hot pink shell and a mini spiked choker fashioned around its neck; one with a sky blue shell, little white clouds painted sporadically across the glossy surface. Rumi gasped and sat up, leaning over to cross her arms on the ledge. 

“Zoey, those are so cute!” 

“Aren’t they?! I was talking to the girl that makes them and we couldn’t believe she just happened to make such perfect ones for each of us! Like, what are the chances?” Zoey beamed, and her face lit up the room even in the low lights. 

Rumi softened with affection for her friend. Of course Zoey was late because she was finding matching trinkets for them. God, she loved her. 

Mira’s voice cut in, muffled by the sweater she was pulling over her head. “Then a swarm of fans caught us outside the tower. We wanted to get back, but they were so sweet - one even asked Zoey to autograph his abs,” she tore the sweater off and raised her eyebrows suggestively at Zoey.

“Eugh,” Zoey pretended to gag. “It was hot until I felt how sweaty he was. The ink wouldn’t even stick the first time - I had to sign my name like three times!”

“Gross,” Rumi laughed. 

“Right? Anyway, we’re here now, and it’s time for couch. Well, spa, then couch. There’s this movie I want to show you guys, it’s based on a true story. Some guy went out on a sailing trip and ended up stranded at sea for, like, six months. He had to eat his own pants to survive, it’s crazy,” Zoey rambled as she set her things down, joining Mira in undressing. Both had pulled off their shirts and were making quick work of their bra clasps.

Rumi looked away. 

They insisted it wasn’t weird, but she didn’t like watching them change or talking to them while they changed or even thinking about what was happening when they were changing. After all these weeks, she still wasn’t used to it. 

The tips of her ears felt hot. Did they turn the jacuzzi temperature up? Where had Bobby installed the temperature controls anyway? Mira and Zoey bickered about something in the background (“He did not eat his own pants, Zoey-” “Yes he did! They had, like, leather in them or something. Look it up-”)

Their voices faded into murmurs, then Zoey was giggling about something. Rumi sat there and did not think about the fact that they were both probably naked by now. 

She stared at a vent in the ceiling. Good thing they had those. Probably really important to be aware of mold and stuff in places like this. Bobby really was very thorough. She hoped he was paying the cleaning crew more for their new responsibilities. She would check in with him later to make sure. They were very nice people. She was lucky to get to work with such nice people. Bobby was nice. God, what was taking them so long? 

She risked a look over her shoulder. As she’d suspected, this proved to be a terrible idea.

Mira’s lithe, nude figure silhouetted the gathering steam as she walked in Rumi’s direction. The condensation clung to her already dewy skin, and droplets formed on her forehead and collarbones. A smug grin slid over her face as she strutted confidently across the room. 

Zoey trailed not far behind, and Rumi could tell she was holding back a shy smile. Probably thinking about her new turtle figurines. Dork. God, she was so pretty when she was excited about something. Her supple curves contrasted Mira’s slender frame, and her soft thighs jiggled as she walked through the steam. 

Rumi’s ears got hot again, and she spun back around. 

Jesus fucking Christ, why did she do that? 

“Don’t tell us you’re still shy about the spa,” Mira teased, slowly descending into the bubbling water. 

“No! No, not shy,” Rumi forced a laugh that Mira didn’t seem to be buying. “Just… getting used to it.” She stared down through the roiling water, picking out the outline of jagged patterns running up her thighs. “I guess it’s just… weird. To feel like I don’t have to hide them anymore.” 

It was true. 

Her scars, out in the open, fully on display to the people she had hidden them from for years.

Mira settled in a few feet to her right, while Zoey unceremoniously plopped down to her left. The three girls let their heads fall back against the ledge, letting out a simultaneous breath and staring at the ceiling. 

A pause, before Zoey’s voice cut through the unhurried silence. Rumi could barely make out what she said over the sound of the jets. 

“I’m glad you don’t have to hide them anymore.” 

Rumi sighed, smiling to herself. “Yeah. It’s… nice. To not always worry about what I’m wearing, how I’m stretching, who’s looking. Just makes life so much easier.” 

Zoey hummed. 

“That,” she said, “and also, they’re just so pretty.” 

She said it nonchalantly, almost cheerfully, like she was pointing out a pretty bird perched on the balcony. But they had never really spoken like this about Rumi’s markings before, never acknowledged them directly. After everything happened, Rumi made a point of not bringing it up. 

Zoey and Mira had caught on pretty quickly, and didn’t push it. They were all still processing everything, getting used to this new world they lived in - a healed world, a world where they had finally completed their duty - and they seemed to understand that things like this didn’t need to be rushed. 

Rumi was grateful for the space to adjust, to allow Zoey and Mira to show their love through the simple acts of domestic bliss.

It wasn’t like they were avoiding it or intentionally putting off a conversation where they laid everything out. They’d already pretty much said all they needed to say, and were content to move on. Rumi was happy to make dinner together and settle in for couch time, to let herself feel safe and loved again. Zoey and Mira apologized by making her favorite foods, taking her to the spa, buying tiny handmade turtle figurines. 

It was the gentle acclimatization she needed, and every day felt more normal than the last. 

But the scars lingered. The one and only reminder of the pain, the lies, the hurt between them. It was the only thing Rumi felt they’d never really gotten closure about. She was different now - they were different. It was obvious, unavoidable. 

That part they hadn’t discussed yet. 

“Zoey’s right. They are,” Mira agreed.

Rumi blinked.

Thank god they were all staring at the ceiling. For some reason her ears felt like they were on fire. She struggled for what to say. 

“Sorry,” Zoey winced. “Didn’t mean to bring it up if you’re not ready to talk about it. I just… wanted you to know.”

A silence stretched between them before Rumi whispered an almost involuntary response. 

“You guys really think so?”

“Yeah. We do,” Mira said softly, and Zoey hummed in agreement. 

Rumi let out an incredulous scoff, lifting her head to find her friends already looking at each other, nodding. 

A smile tugged at her mouth. She didn’t know why, but she felt like laughing. If Zoey was being genuine, they hadn’t been staring because her scars made them uncomfortable. They’d stared because they thought she was pretty.

Huh.

“I like the way they light up sometimes,” Zoey added, sensing Rumi’s waning discomfort. “Like little lightning bolts. Pchoo, tchoo-tchoo-tchoo,” she made ‘lightning’ sounds and acted out Spiderman hands. Rumi wasn’t sure how it related, but it made her feel better nonetheless. She and Mira laughed as Zoey kept making ‘lightning,’ and Rumi realized with a start that she was beginning to glow. 

“-tchoo- see?! Like that!” 

Rumi held out her hand to Zoey, putting the pulsing glow of her scars on full display. She let herself marvel at them. It was still so strange to just have them out like this, to be showing them on purpose. To be looking together, the three of them, at the patterns she had been staring at alone her whole life. 

She used to track how far they grew every year, making tracings of them to try and predict how much further they’d spread by the next photoshoot, whether she’d be able to wear this shirt or that one. Now, she held out her palm and watched as Mira and Zoey inched forward, rapt with the flickering glow under her skin. 

She watched their eyes widen as the light changed from sky blue to a light teal, the flow of colors shifting subtly with her movement and shifting emotions. She still hadn’t quite figured out what the colors meant yet, whether they were random or not. Sometimes she wondered if it was like an embedded mood ring, and shuddered to think she could be read so easily. For her own well being, she’d settled on the notion that it was random. 

Zoey and Mira stared, seemingly stunned into silence. The steam rose around them, wrapping them in a dream-like fog under the low lights of the room. The moment shifted, then, into something thicker - something rich and honey-sweet. 

They leaned in to stare at her outstretched arm, and Rumi studied their faces. The spa’s ambient yellowish glow made Mira’s soft skin look golden, and Zoey’s eye makeup glinted in the light - tiny golden sparkles she had stuck on that morning. She was so excited to get that eyeshadow palette from Mira last year.

Rumi kept expecting one of them to look away, to turn their attention to more interesting matters - like turtles or horror movies or what to have for dinner tonight. But they just sat like that, unmoving, their attention trained entirely on Rumi’s skin. The moment stretched, unhurried. 

She let out a breath she didn’t realize she was holding. Her skin grew hot again under the weight of their gaze, and the markings flared a deep purple-pink. 

Zoey gasped, instinctively reaching out toward her wrist. Water droplets dripped from her hand, hovering just above Rumi’s.

Zoey looked up at her. “Can I… ?” 

Rumi nodded.

The air grew thick again as Zoey silently lowered her hand, dragging her pointer finger over the center of Rumi’s palm. 

She sucked in a breath as subtly as she could, and another flare of magenta pulsed through her patterns. She felt Zoey’s touch in her chest, her stomach, her toes, the feeling traveling her patterns like sensory leylines.

Zoey’s mouth parted in awe, and her eyebrows furrowed the way they did when she was focusing. Her finger trailed up Rumi’s wrist, outlining the jagged angles of the patterns with a sort of gentle reverence Rumi had never witnessed in her before. 

A soft exhale to her right reminded her that Mira was there. She tore her eyes from Zoey’s featherlight touch to finally notice Mira’s face - an almost pained expression, her lips parted around her breaths, her eyelids slightly drooped. Rumi had never seen her like this before. She wondered if this was strange for them, too. They were generally affectionate with each other, as a group, but there had never been anything like… this. This was different somehow - deliberate, thoughtful, intentional. Not just an extension of some other interaction that was happening.

Was she- were they- 

What was this?

Rumi felt a jolt of energy down her spine as the thought hit her - for some reason, she wanted this. She wanted Zoey to touch her. She wanted- 

She wanted Mira to watch. 

The patterns flared again, and a smile tugged at the corner of Zoey’s mouth. She traced the patterns up Rumi’s arm, slow and reverent, lightly grazing her nails against Rumi’s burning skin. 

Rumi sat completely still, as if under some sort of spell. She couldn’t move if she wanted to. Couldn’t drag her eyes away from where Zoey’s fingertips met her skin, her touch gentle and achingly slow. Zoey leaned forward, almost unconsciously, caressing the patterns that dipped into the crease of Rumi’s elbow. 

Then she slowed her hand, as if waiting for Rumi to pull her arm away. 

She didn’t.

A fierce blush bloomed across Zoey’s cheeks, reddening the tips of her ears. 

Was she… ?

The thought that Zoey might also be feeling this - whatever this was, she still didn’t really understand - made her dizzy. The room spun around her, blurring into swaths of color. She glanced at Mira, who had tugged her lower lip between her teeth. The look in her eyes was one Rumi had never seen before.

Maybe that’s what did it. Because she wasn’t sure what possessed her to say this, but the words left her in an almost-whisper before she could stop them:

“You can touch them too, if you want.” She began to raise her other arm out of the water, but Mira’s hand was there in an instant, gently grazing her wrist under the water like she’d only been waiting for an invitation. Her patterns pulsed.

Mira stared down at where their hands connected, dragging her finger in a circle around Rumi’s palm. Her touch was harsher, more insistent - more Mira. Where Zoey’s was awestruck curiosity, Mira’s was something like hunger.

Zoey’s hand had travelled almost to her shoulder now, and Rumi suddenly realized how close they all were to each other. Until now, the bubbling water had hidden everything below the shoulders relatively well, but here in the center of the spa, she could make out the shapes of their bodies. Mira’s knee hovered dangerously close to hers, and Zoey’s thighs had parted when she leaned forward to trace the patterns on Rumi’s upper arm. 

Holy honmoon. The image of it almost made her black out. 

Warmth flooded her, hotter than the spa water, hotter than the demonic blood that flowed through her veins. She’d never felt anything like this before. Well, maybe a little, but she’d never had time to really feel it. Things were always a bit too “save the world” to even consider the idea of pleasure. Pleasure - is that what this was?

And besides, it’s not like she’d ever shared more than a kiss with anyone. It’d never really been an option - keep the patterns covered at all costs, cover up and hide. She’d never even shown this much of her body to anyone before, let alone let them touch it. Like, really touch it. Explore it, enjoy it. Because that’s what it felt like Zoey and Mira were doing - savoring her. 

It surprised her how normal it felt. 

At first it was strange undressing in front of them, but not for the reasons you’d expect. It was mostly because it felt like she was going to get in trouble for showing this much of herself to anyone. But once she got over the taboo of it all, it was the most natural thing in the world. Of course she could share her body with her girls; it’s like she was made for it. 

That’s how this felt. Natural. Like it was always going to come to this, like they were always going to end up this way - Zoey and Mira setting her alight, touching her in a way only they could. The shock of it all passed over her like a wave. 

She looked back at her friends, who had very obviously just exchanged in indecipherable glance. What the hell was that?

“I thought we agreed, no more secrets?”

“Hm? Oh, nothing. Sorry,” Zoey muttered. 

Mira and Zoey both suppressed a smile, pulling their hands away and stealing another look at each other. 

Rumi lowered her arm reluctantly, almost whining at the loss of contact. She wasn’t going to say anything, but she already regretted distracting them from their timid exploration of her patterns. Whatever they kept giggling about had better be good. 

She looked at Zoey expectantly. 

“Sorry, didn’t mean to interrupt. Just thought of something funny, it’s unrelated. Ignore us.” 

“Zoey.”

She stared. 

“Well…” Zoey hesitated, and Rumi saw the gears turning in her head. “We did promise no secrets. Sooo- well, you know how Mira and I went shopping earlier? At the market? The one where I got the turtles. Um… so-” 

“Zoey kissed me today.”

Rumi’s world tilted. 

“Miraaa! I was supposed to tell her!”

“You were taking too long,” Mira shrugged.

“I was literally just-”

“Oh my god,” Rumi’s delayed reaction cut off Zoey’s protests. “You- what?!” 

“We kissed, and it was amazing,” Zoey said matter-of-factly. She looked at Mira with what can only be described as heart eyes, and Mira returned a white-hot stare, a smirk pulling at the corner of her mouth. 

“And left our poor friend Rumi to break in the bathhouse alone,” Mira leveled her stare at Rumi, and something told her she hadn’t forgotten about the whole pattern-tracing thing yet. There was a question in her eyes, a something Rumi couldn’t read. 

“Well… we’re here now, so she can’t be mad at us.”

Rumi’s head spun. She tried to push the idea of it - of Zoey and Mira kissing - out of her head. But the harder she fought it, the more vivid it became. Zoey’s arms wrapped around Mira’s neck, Mira’s long arms pulling Zoey in by the waist - did Zoey say something first? Had Mira known she wanted to kiss her? Had they been into each other since the beginning, and Rumi just hadn’t noticed? 

Or was this new? A product of their well-earned break - an inevitability of the realization that they could actually be happy now? That they were free to want things for themselves? How long had this been… what they wanted?

“How much you wanna bet she’s imagining it?” Mira looked at Zoey, who laughed nervously. 

“Earth to Rumi? You okay? Sorry, we didn’t mean to just drop that on you. Well, I mean, you did ask. To be fair. So. Um, are you okay?”

“What? Uh- yeah. Yes, I- yeah. Yep. All good here.”

“Mira, you broke her!”

“Hey, you kissed me. Don’t blame the messenger.”

Rumi blinked. Okay! Okay. They kissed. Mira and Zoey had kissed. Wow! Alright. Okay!

She took a deep breath and revelled in the thought that her friends were happy, and that they trusted her enough to tell her, to allow her to be a part of this. 

But then, what was… all of that about? The touching and the tracing and the heat, the feeling that they both wanted to touch her, too? Mira’s lip pulled under her teeth, the blush that spread down Zoey's neck… was that not… were they not… 

“Oh, yeah, she’s totally imagining it,” Zoey said. 

Rumi looked down to see her patterns pulsing wildly. She lit up the spa like a giant glow stick. 

“Told you.”

“She’s blushing,” Zoey teased.

“She totally is.”

Rumi couldn’t deny it. She totally was. 

For a moment, panic seized her. Had she pressured them to tell her this? She hadn’t meant to. If she’d known what they were whispering about, she wouldn't have pushed it. They’d just kissed, for god’s sake. Were they even comfortable with her being there? Did they resent having to come meet her in the bathhouse when they likely just wanted to spend the evening… alone? No, if that were the case they would’ve just left after saying hi. So they clearly wanted to be here with her, right?

Her mind wrapped around the situation, trying desperately to make sense of it. What unfamiliar territory, the position she found herself in now - sitting, naked, between two people who had just kissed for the first time. This should’ve been weird. Why wasn’t it weird?

She stared at the water, reeling. She didn’t know what she felt - shock? Well, no. She wasn’t necessarily surprised by this. They did fit well together, and both of them were ridiculously gorgeous. 

Just… huh. What an interesting thought. Mira and Zoey kissing. Mira and Zoey kissing. Mira and Zoey blushing for each other, wanting each other - getting what they wanted. 

What did she want?

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw them patiently waiting for her response. They exchanged a look of amusement with just a touch of concern, and it hit her that they were likely assuming they’d made her uncomfortable. 

Well, we couldn’t have that. 

“Can’t blame a girl for letting her imagination wander,” she finally admitted. 

Zoey’s face brightened, and the tension in the room melted away. 

“I mean, it was pretty hot,” Mira said. 

“I can’t believe you didn’t tell me you had a crush, Zoey.”

“Yeah, well, you know… I kinda had to focus on saving the world, and all. No time for such frivolous things as crushes,” Zoey shrugged, putting her hands behind her head in a ‘no need to thank me, it was nothing’ stance. 

Cute.

“See, I was under the impression that it was a group effort,” Mira said. 

“Hmm, I can see why you’d think that. But, no, it was mostly me,” Zoey said brightly.

“Is that so?”

“I mean, I guess you guys helped a little bit.” 

“If by helped, you mean freed both of you from a demon lord’s mind control, then yeah, I’d say I helped a little bit,” Rumi chimed in.

“A little bit, yeah,” Zoey playfully tilted an eyebrow. “So you can see why there was hardly any time left over for yearning.”

“You literally licked a poster just because it had Myst-”

“Mira, you are in very grave danger of having my kiss revoked right now.”

“Am I?”

“Yep.”

“Interesting, because I seem to recall you being very eager to give it to me earlier.”

Zoey flushed. 

Rumi’s patterns pulsed. 

This seemed to draw the attention back to her, and she grew hot again under Mira and Zoey’s stare. It was now painfully obvious what was happening - why Rumi kept glowing at particular moments in time. A wordless acknowledgement settled between them, heavy as a stone but not unwelcome.

Zoey leaned forward, arching a brow. 

“So is the flaring a good thing? Orrr are you kind of just hoping we’ll shut up about it?”

They looked at her expectantly. Rumi recognized the question at the heart of Zoey’s teasing - was she uncomfortable? It occurred to her that she was at a crossroads, with vastly different outcomes at the end of each path. She could shut it down, introduce a new topic of conversation and forget this ever happened, or…

Or.

What do I want?

She thought of Zoey’s fingertips on her forearm, Mira’s hooded stare. The feeling that the whole world had narrowed down to the room, the spa itself. Like there was nothing outside of these walls - like she and Zoey and Mira were in their own little world, and could do whatever they liked. The feeling that they were free.

She bit her lip, trying not to say something she’d regret. 

“It’s… good. Really good.” 

Nice, Rumi. Very smooth. 

She fought the urge to hang her head. God, she was so bad at this. Whatever this was - she wasn’t entirely sure. Expressing her emotions? Acknowledging her feelings without intellectualizing them and reasoning them away? Not repressing herself (her… desires? was that really what this was?) for the sake of focusing on her purpose, her utility? She didn’t know what she was doing here, but whatever it was, she was surely making a fool of herself in the process. 

She heard the sigh leaving Zoey’s lips and couldn't place the emotion. Was she upset? Had she disappointed them somehow? It was like the wafting steam had fogged up the glass in her brain, and all conscious thought refracted into nonsense - a tangled mess of sensation, fear, want. She could’ve been misreading the situation entirely, sending herself into an introspective spiral for no reason. 

Her mind raced with all the ways this could go wrong, confusion giving way to shame. She stared at a particular jagged pattern running up her thigh. 

Zoey opened her mouth like she was going to say something, then shut it. It was brief, nearly imperceptible, but Rumi caught it. Fear spiked. 

“What?”

“What?” Zoey played dumb. 

“You looked like you were going to say something.” Rumi breathed deeply through her nose, hoping her patterns wouldn’t betray her rising anxiety. 

“Oh, um. Just that they’re pretty when they warp colors like that.”

She was lying. Rumi knew she was. It helped that Zoey was a terrible liar, but Rumi would be able to tell even if she wasn’t. 

“Hey, you okay?” Mira tilted her head to catch Rumi’s eye. 

Was it that obvious? 

“Yeah. Um - thank you, Zoey,” she said stiffly. 

“I’m sorry, Rumi, I didn’t mean to be all cryptic and make you anxious. I was just going to ask you something before I realized this isn’t the right time to bring it up. We have enough going on today,” Zoey offered, sensing Rumi’s change in demeanor. She said it gently, like she was trying not to scare away a nervous animal. Which Rumi supposed she was, right now. Now that she knew Zoey wanted to ask her something, she couldn’t just move on. She had an almost-serious tone when she mentioned it, which meant it was probably important. And if it was important, and Zoey had to hesitate to ask, then it probably wasn’t anything good. And there were a million not-good things that could be said between them. 

“Oh. Um, I think it’s probably fine. You could just ask me now if you wanted. I’ve got nowhere else to be,” Rumi feigned nonchalance as best she could. She definitely was not disoriented and freaking the fuck out right now. 

Zoey and Mira exchanged a tense look.

“For sure, I just… I really don’t think now is the time, and I want you to have time to think about it before you, um, answer. Besides, it’s relaxy time! Let’s just get back to the big life stuff later. I promise, you have nothing to be anxious about,” Zoey said sweetly. 

Unfortunately, despite her reassurances, Rumi felt like she was being hunted for sport. 

“Rumi, everything’s fine,” Mira said. “I promise. Just something to deal with later, that’s all. Spa and couch now, hang and talk later. Okay?” 

“Okay, you guys are really stressing me out. Can you please just ask me now and get it over with?” Rumi said, exasperated. She couldn’t take this anymore. “I’m sorry, I just. This is kind of a big deal for me,” she gestured to her exposed patterns glowing beneath the water, “and I’m feeling sort of… I don’t know, fragile? So if we could please just talk about whatever life stuff you want to discuss right now and clear the air, that would be great.” 

Mira gave her a sympathetic smile.

“Of course. We didn’t mean to stress you out. Zoey just-”

“-couldn’t keep my mouth shut,” Zoey winced. “I really meant to wait, I swear,” she explained to Mira, “but she just…” 

“I know, Zoey. Just ask her.” Mira raised an eyebrow, looking like she wanted to laugh.

Zoey giggled - like, actually giggled - and cocked her head. 

Okay, what the fuck was going on?

“Rumi, can I kiss you?”

Her brain fizzled, popped, and went blank. 

A beat. 

“Okay, now you broke her,” Mira teased Zoey. She sounded uncertain, almost nervous, like she was trying to gauge Rumi’s initial reaction. 

“You don’t have to answer now,” Zoey rushed to clarify, “in fact, I don’t want you to. Just… just think about it.” 

Rumi realized she had hardly moved a muscle in the last thirty seconds, and forced out a nod for Zoey’s sake. She felt dizzy. 

“That’s an invitation from both of us, for the record,” Mira said bluntly. “That’s the pitch. You don’t have to know how you feel about it, and nothing has to change if you don’t want it to. We just wanted to put it out there.” 

A shock of pain shot up Rumi’s leg, pulling her back to reality. She looked down, and saw a fully formed claw digging into her leg. It wasn’t enough to break the skin, but faint red marks dragged up the expanse of her thigh. 

Okay, now she was thoroughly embarrassed. 

“Hey, I didn’t mean to freak you out. I’m sorry. I wanted to wait until we weren’t… um, like this, to bring it up.” Zoey blushed, almost shy in her reassurances. "But now you know - we’re open to it if you are. No pressure. It’s still just us.”

Rumi took a deep breath, trying and failing to retract her claws, and decided she would process all of this later. She had a lot to think about, and now was not the time. 

They sat for a moment as the tension faded, and Rumi felt her heartrate return to normal. 

“Nothing has to change?” 

Mira shook her head. “Not if you don’t want it to.”

“Just something for you to think about. If you want to be a part of this,” Zoey smiled shyly at Mira, “we would want you to be.”

Rumi nodded. 

“Okay. Yeah, I’ll, um- I’ll think about it.”

“Okay,” Zoey said. “Sweet. So… couch?”

 “God, yes, please. I’m so hungry,” Mira groaned. She gracefully began climbing out of the spa. 

“I was thinking we could order in, I heard the new place on the corner has the best desserts-”

…And so the evening passed like normal, like any other evening they spent together. 

Zoey and Mira walked back to the changing area, leaving her reeling in the spa. They debated what to order like they hadn’t just flipped Rumi’s world upside-down with a single conversation. Rumi joined them and pulled her pajamas over her head in a daze. 

She felt like she was in a dream - surely, she had imagined that last bit. In what universe would Mira and Zoey get together and then invite her to join them? 

She wondered how on earth they were being so calm about this. They had likely discussed it at length in the market, which was what made them so late. 

The idea of them having their first kiss and then immediately discussing bringing Rumi into it made her blush - were they seriously suggesting this? 

Was she seriously considering it? 

Regardless of what she had felt when they touched her patterns - which was a huge development, in and of itself - wasn’t this a terrible idea just logistically speaking? The three were close friends, not to mention coworkers. If things went bad, she would lose everything. 

She would lose them.

Again. 

Was anything worth that risk? 

She waited by the door for them to finish changing, silently wading through the five stages of horny. Somewhere in the distance Zoey laughed at something Mira said, and despite herself, Rumi smiled. She was grateful they had given her space to process everything, that Zoey had ended the conversation and casually moved on to Couch. Things weren’t awkward or tense, but really what she needed was the chance to think about this while not sitting naked with them in a jacuzzi. Needed a chance to clear her head without also having to divert her gaze from her friends’ bodies the whole time. Which, to be fair, was a lot of work. 

Okay, maybe she did have a bit of a crush. 

Who was she kidding? Mira and Zoey were irresistible. They always had been. Rumi had just never considered it as an option. Up until now, it had never occurred to her to investigate those feelings. But now that Zoey mentioned it, yeah. Yeah, she did want to kiss her. And Mira. Both of them. 

Fuck.

~~~

Couch was blissful, as always. Dinner was delicious and grounding, and Rumi tuned out the documentary in favor of her own thoughts.

A stream of memories and emotions rushed past, moments she had completely forgotten about - noticing Zoey’s curves in a costume fitting, admiring Mira’s toned legs during rehearsal. The weight of Zoey’s head on her shoulder during a movie night, Mira’s hand in her hair while she dozed off in her lap. She supposed she had always felt like this. How had she only just realized what it was? 

A thousand puzzle pieces clicked together into an image she’d never realized was incomplete, and she went to bed that night in disbelief. So what if this was what she wanted? Was that so bad? 

Was it wrong to imagine this could be something beautiful? They wanted her to be a part of this - this thing - that they had started. They wanted her there. 

They wanted her. 

The thought hit her like a train. 

They wanted her.

And as it turned out, she wanted them too. Wanted to try this, to see how far it would take them. Her vision of the future vibrated like a plucked string, then settled into a steady harmony, something sweet and new and bright. 

Sleep took her, giddy and smiling to herself in the dark.

~~~

The next few days passed as usual. It should’ve been strange - she expected one of them to bring it up at some point, ask what she thought about all of it. But they didn’t. Mira grazed her lower back while walking behind her in the kitchen, and it was normal. Zoey wrapped her arms around her shoulders from behind the couch, kissing her on the head while thanking her for making tea, and it was normal. Life passed like it always did - the three of them revolving around each other as if pulled by gravity, always connected, always aware of the others’ whereabouts. Rumi realized how naturally they moved as a team, just like they did in combat. Everything about their life together was synchronized, the trio working in tandem through everything. 

By the time their weekly Movie + Ramyeon Night rolled around, Zoey had a list of twenty movies she wanted them to pick from. They settled on something new, an action packed rom-com that mostly looked fun due to the sheer amount of A-list celebrities starring in it. Well, that and apparently the main love triangle had some crazy plot twist toward the end, and Zoey had seen people raving about it on twitter through one of her alts. 

They grabbed a bottle of soju and settled on the roomy sectional in Mira’s room with their favorite movie night blankets. Zoey found the film on a streaming site while they took turns speculating which celebrity’s character would be the hottest - after all, Zoey argued, just because an actor is hot doesn’t automatically mean they can successfully play a character that’s hot. Mira nodded in agreement and scooped up Rumi’s feet onto her lap, draping her hands over her ankles.

Rumi pressed into Zoey’s side and pulled her blanket up to her chin. Movie nights were always her favorite thing they did together. Travelling, performing, cooking, soaking in the spa - she enjoyed everything they did, really, but something about snuggling up and enjoying a new film had always been particularly comforting. And even if it sucked, it was good because it was bad, and they got to experience it together. Good film or bad, Mira always knew what was going to happen next, and Zoey always had random fun facts about its production at the ready. 

She would like to be able to say she had thought about anything besides their proposal since that fateful night in the spa, but she’d be lying. No matter how hard she tried to focus on anything else, the peripheral awareness of that possibility between them never went away. Every time they did something like this and it felt normal was a confirmation that becoming something more could be the answer they’d been looking for. Maybe they had always been like this. 

Nothing has to change if you don’t want it to.

Did she want it to?

Mira poured them all shots of soju, lamenting how the sugar-free kind tasted so much worse that it wasn’t even worth the cut in calories. The first shot burned a bit on the way down, but the second settled smooth and warm in her veins. They didn’t drink often, but it had become a bit of a movie night tradition after they had discovered how it made good movies even better (and bad ones funnier.) She was grateful to have people she felt comfortable letting go with. It was hard, sometimes, to feel like she was allowed to relax. But, slowly but surely, Mira and Zoey had dismantled the guilt she felt around it, and she was grateful to have been given “permission” to indulge.

Zoey clicked play.

The movie was good. Well, good enough. The corny one-liners had them laughing off the bat, and the characters were endearing enough. Apparently the love triangle was between three girls, which was a surprise to everyone but Zoey, who just grinned smugly to herself when it was revealed on-screen. 

“Oh my god,” Rumi laughed. 

“Zoey, you didn’t.” 

“What? Life imitates art, right? Or something like that,” she shrugged. 

And to Rumi's surprise, it wasn’t awkward. The romance B-plot wasn’t too influential, anyway - mostly there to lighten the action with some good old-fashioned flirtatious banter every once in a while. Rumi liked it. It was cute. Things felt normal. 

That is, until the two romantic interests started making out. 

Rumi expected the scene to end relatively quickly, but it didn’t. It just kept going, like the movie was daring you not to look away. 

It wasn’t their first time sitting through an explicit scene together, so that part wasn’t new. But given the context of the current dynamic between them, this one just… hit different. They fell silent, watching the screen like there was nothing else in the world to look at.

At some point the girl with short, beachy-blonde hair climbed into the lap of the brunette, straddling her hips and pulling her into a searing kiss. The brunette one moaned, immediately giving in to the contact. 

Beside her, she heard Zoey’s breath quicken.

Mira’s grip tightened on her ankle. 

Oh god.

The soju settled heavy in her veins, and her stomach tensed with the same hot feeling she’d had in the spa that night. In a flash, the night came back to her - Zoey’s finger’s exploring her skin, the look on Mira’s face when she said she could touch her. 

The blonde girl grinded on the brunette’s lap, wrapping her arms tightly around her neck. 

The room was silent but for the sound of the actresses’ heavy breathing, an occasional moan echoing out of the sound system. Rumi felt too hot. The patterns were beginning to glow faintly beneath the blanket, and she prayed neither of them noticed. The only skin currently exposed was her neck and chest. Eventually deciding it would be easier to pull the blanket up to her chin if she laid down, she started to discreetly shift lower on the couch, adjusting to lay her head in Zoey's lap. 

The movement brought her inches from Zoey’s cheek for a brief moment, and then Zoey turned her head. 

Their mouths, suddenly an inch away. God, she smelled so good. Zoey’s breath brushed her lips, and Rumi’s marks pulsed a bluish glow. Embarrassment flooded her senses, and Zoey tilted her head knowingly, like she was reveling in the effect she had on her.

Neither of them moved. It was like a terrible, gay game of chicken. Zoey didn’t move her head back or look away, a challenge behind her eyes. Her eyes trailed slowly down Rumi’s face, landing on her lips. One of the actresses in the movie moaned. Rumi held her breath. She couldn’t do this anymore. 

She leaned in. 

Their lips met, unmoving. A gentle press of their mouths, like they were both savoring the sensation. Zoey was impossibly soft, and warm, and her lips opened on an exhale as she sighed into Rumi’s mouth. 

Fuck fuck fuck, it’s happpening-

“God, Rumi, you have no idea-”

Rumi interrupted, deepening the kiss. A sudden rush of confidence, almost entitlement, jolted through her. She almost felt bad for cutting her off, but she needed Zoey’s mouth on hers with an almost thoughtless desperation. The feeling had a jagged edge to it, its blade limned in greed. Why shouldn’t she get what she wanted? Why shouldn’t she enjoy this? 

The last of her walls crumbled away. 

Zoey’s hands wrapped around her face as best she could from this position, and she felt Mira’s thumb rub circles on her ankle, anchoring her to the moment, the feeling. The sounds of the movie faded, and suddenly this was all there was - Zoey’s palm cradling her jaw, Mira’s hand on her leg, slipping under the blanket to explore her calf. She felt raw, undone, a thing for them to take and have and enjoy however they pleased.

It was like a switch had been flipped. Mira shifted beneath her, lifting her legs off her lap and plopping them on the couch. Rumi almost protested before she felt the cushion dip, reluctantly tearing her face from Zoey’s to see Mira crawling up her body. Mira hovered above her on all fours, their legs slotted together like a zipper, Mira’s long hair falling like a curtain around her face. Whatever was left of Rumi's soul left her body. 

Zoey shifted, too, sensing that it was Mira’s turn to take charge. Rumi was now leaning fully back against half of her chest, the blanket falling to reveal her torso in full. She instinctively reached up to rest her hands on Mira’s shoulders. She wanted her closer. 

Her pajama shirt rode up with the movement, revealing her stomach, the patterns there flexing with her torso. The marks glowed a deep purple, and it became more apparent the longer she looked that they pulsed brighter and more wildly the lower they went. The heat pooled between her legs with the realization. 

Mira reached up, grabbing Rumi’s chin with her thumb and forefinger to lift her face to her own. The movement was firm and decisive, but not forceful. It said I am going to take care of you, and it was so, so Mira, and Rumi blushed. Zoey pressed a kiss behind her ear and nibbled softly at her earlobe, nuzzling her face into Rumi’s neck and breathing her in. Rumi didn’t know where to look, what to focus on. Zoey’s hands caressed her shoulders, rubbing down her arm and then back up, over and over, trailing fire in their wake. Mira hovered over her, boxing her in but not crushing her - in fact, their bodies barely touched at all. Her leg still rested between Rumi’s knees, and Rumi fought the urge to wrap her thighs around it and pull her closer, deeper. Mira stared down at her, cheeks flushed. 

“Rumi.”

“Y-yeah?”

“Tell me what you want.”

Rumi could scarcely get her eyes to focus on Mira’s face. “What?”

“Tell me what you want, and I’ll give it to you.”

Mira looked almost pained by the question, and Rumi noticed her arms shaking where they braced her against the couch cushions. She knew Mira had more stamina than this, more upper body strength. 

She wasn’t quaking from the effort of holding herself up. She was holding herself back.

“I want- you. Zoey. This. I want everything,” Rumi admitted, too overstimulated to put conscious thought into her requests. She felt greedy, indulgent. She wanted all of it, anything they were willing to give her. She squeezed Mira’s leg between her knees, wordlessly begging her for more. Mira let out a shaky breath and stared at her lips. 

Zoey reached up to touch Mira’s arm, and she remembered that this was likely a first for them, too. She let her arms fall from Mira’s shoulders, happy to give them their moment while her head caught up to her body, and reached back to grip Zoey’s plush thighs. 

Mira looked past her and tensed, and Rumi knew whatever face Zoey was making was meant to torture her, because for a moment she forgot entirely about Rumi. She leaned in to kiss Zoey behind her, surging forward like she just couldn’t help herself.

The weight of Mira’s body on her own made her groan, Mira’s leg finally, finally pressing between her legs, and Rumi’s eyes drifted shut as she let her head fall back against Zoey’s chest. 

She heard Zoey moan next to her, and turned to see her and Mira locked in a kiss that could only be described as sinful. Mira licked into Zoey’s mouth, her lips hungry, biting, pulling, tasting. Zoey’s thighs tensed as she squirmed beneath her, a strangled whisper leaving her between kisses. 

“Mira, fuck-” 

Mira looked at Rumi mid-kiss, Zoey panting mindlessly against her mouth. 

“I’m so sorry we left you out of such a special moment the other day, Rumi. If you want, we could just… show you what you missed?” She threw Zoey a devilish grin, her eyes glinting reflections of the flashing patterns. 

Rumi nodded frantically, unable to speak even if she wanted to. 

“Well, good then. Let’s catch you up.” 

Okay, so it wasn’t their first time doing this. How long were they at the “market” again? Rumi couldn’t remember, but they certainly hadn’t stopped at kissing. She imagined Zoey pulling Mira into a private restroom stall, getting her alone so she could take what she needed. She wondered how far they had gone. Wondered how far they would go now, with her. What they would do to her.

Zoey’s voice, small and wrecked and dripping with lust, broke through her musings. 

“Let us make you feel good, unnie. We’ll stop or slow down whenever you want.” 

Mira’s chest rose and fell with her quickening breath, and Rumi took a moment to consider. The soju thrummed in her veins, making her lax and warm but still clear-headed enough to realize how afraid she was of going too far too fast. The last thing she wanted was for this whole thing to fall apart because they had rushed it, had started something they couldn’t handle. 

Zoey and Mira waited for her, a burning invitation swimming in the undercurrent of their stares. Rumi felt them - Zoey wrapped around her back, Mira braced on top of her, arms framing her.

She took a breath, and let go. 

Wordlessly, she held up her arm. Pulsing, purple-ish light cast strange shadows on the ceiling of Mira’s room as she reached for Zoey’s hand. She gingerly grabbed Zoey’s fingers and moved them to hover over her wrist. She would let Zoey choose to lower them. 

An involuntary shiver bolted through her when Zoey’s nails scraped against her skin.

Zoey’s lips parted around a sharp exhale as her fingers followed the same jagged arc up Rumi’s arm, the shimmering lines pulsing bright and wild with Rumi’s obvious arousal. 

This time was different. 

This flare wasn’t just light, or heat. This was something new. Something feral deep within her opened its glowing eyes, and she felt the energy erupt beneath her skin. Her nails grew to claws on Zoey’s thigh; her temple pulsed with awareness of the monster within. 

For a brief moment, the awareness almost soured into shame. 

A hand on her leg, Mira’s hand, pulled her back to reality. She was looking at her like that again, her stare very obviously following the pattern that stretched up Rumi’s stomach. The shame withered, a dizzying lust blooming in its place. 

Craving the grounding effect of Mira’s touch, she let out a stuttering breath and dragged her hand a little higher. 

Mira got the message.

Her touch wasn’t feathery, like Zoey’s. It wasn’t hesitant. She gripped the flesh of Rumi’s thigh like she’d been wanting to all night, like she’d barely been managing to hold herself back. 

Rumi took in the scene around her: Mira’s grip tightening on her upper thigh, Zoey’s exploring caress fluttering over her collarbone. A sound she’d never heard herself make before escaped her lips - something between a sigh and a groan - and although she knew she should feel embarrassed, she simply couldn’t find it in her to care. The part of her brain that was supposed to do all the thinking seemed to have melted out of her ears, and a pleasant static had taken its place. It was all she could do to just feel, and try not to pass out under their hands. 

She didn’t know what was happening. Perhaps more importantly, she didn’t fucking care. All she knew was that if they stopped, she would die. Their touch was holding her together, tethering her to this earth, there was nothing else. There was nothing else but this. 

Mira shifted and rolled her hips, pushing her thigh into her, chasing the last shred of reason from her mind. Rumi arched reflexively, craving pressure, friction, something. Somebody whimpered. Was that her? She didn’t know. She didn’t know anything anymore.

Mira leaned in on a whisper, practically purring in Rumi’s ear. Her breath tickled the hairs curled against her neck, and Rumi shuddered, mind blissfully blank -

“God, Rumi, you have no idea how many times I’ve touched myself to the thought of you like this.”

Rumi’s head swam in the nothingness. The feeling swelled like a wave, seizing her and sweeping her off her feet: God, she wanted them to fuck her. She wanted them to fuck her until she saw stars. 

Zoey trailed a hand over her bare shoulder, scratching her fingertips into Rumi’s hairline and moving closer to nuzzle her neck. Another sound left Rumi’s throat, something guttural and raw. Zoey giggled and turned Rumi’s face to hers. She stilled, her lips a breath away from Rumi’s. She could feel Zoey’s breath coming hot and fast. 

The realization that Zoey was going to kiss her again registered somewhere in the periphery of her consciousness. Her eyes fluttered half-shut, mind utterly blank. She felt Zoey’s breath against her mouth as she spoke. 

“Rumi. Can I kiss you?”

Rumi nodded as best she could.

“Is that a yes?”

Rumi nodded again.

“I’m sorry unnie, you’re going to have to use your words.” Zoey smiled sweetly.

“Yes,” Rumi choked out. “Yes, please, yes-”

Zoey’s lips brushed against the side of her mouth before pressing warm and full against her lower lip, and it was all she could do to moan at the contact. 

Zoey dug her fingers deeper into Rumi’s hair, tugging lightly at her scalp. Her tongue licked over her lip, and Rumi realized she was trembling. 

“Hmm. I seem to remember our first kiss going more like this,” Mira murmured, massaging further up Rumi’s thigh, squeezing the crease of her hip like she was savoring every moment of it. She raised her other hand to Rumi’s chin, pulling her mouth from Zoey’s and bringing them face to face. 

Zoey whined at the loss, resolving to kiss the base of Rumi’s neck instead. She sucked the skin, hard, and nipped it, then smoothed it over with her tongue. 

Rumi felt a furious blush spread down her neck again. Mira’s eyes followed it. 

“Yeah. That’s what I did, too.” 

Then Mira pulled Rumi’s lips to hers and kissed her hungrily, groaning into her mouth. She was just as soft as Zoey was, but more forceful, more dominant. Zoey kissed like she wanted to see what happened next; Mira kissed her like she was the one deciding. 

Rumi squeezed her thighs around Mira’s, squirming under her touch. Mira ground down into her, and Zoey moved against her back, and every inch of her body felt alive, alert, her skin vibrating like a live wire. 

Through the force of Mira’s kiss she hardly registered Zoey’s hands reaching around to explore her chest, inching downward, dipping below her collarbone. She peppered kisses against her shoulder, and her fingers caressed the edges of her breasts through her nightshirt, making Rumi shiver but never really touching her. She groaned into Mira’s mouth, who smiled into their kiss and lifted up slightly, exposing her chest to Zoey’s ministrations. 

Finally Zoey dragged a fingertip over Rumi’s clothed nipple, hardened beneath the thin fabric of her shirt. She cursed against Rumi’s shoulder, then took it between her fingers, gently rubbing the pad of her finger over the raised nub. Rumi ground down against Mira’s thigh unconsciously, her hips rolling of their own accord. She felt her breasts rubbing against the thin fabric of her pajamas, her core tightening around nothing, her body alight with feeling, with want. Zoey brought both hands around to hold her breasts, massaging them in gentle pulses, catching her nipples between her fingers. 

Then she twisted. 

For a moment it was almost too good, too fast, too much. Mira was licking into her mouth now, tongue languid and greedy and hot, and Rumi’s mind buzzed with blinding pleasure. It registered that Mira was grinding against her, too, straddling one of Rumi’s thighs and riding it like her life depended on it. Her core was hot, and damp, and it hit her that Mira was as aroused as she was. 

Mira. Mira was horny for her. 

Unthinking, she reached up to caress Mira’s waist, dragging her hand over the swell of her hips, over her pajama shorts, savoring the way she broke their kiss to moan for the first time tonight. 

“Is this good?” Rumi asked. She wanted to pleasure her, but didn’t know how.

“Yes, fuck,” Mira breathed. Rumi watched as she leaned back, placed a hand on hers, and pushed it toward where her shorts had ridden up. Mira’s skin was hot and smooth beneath Rumi’s fingers, and toned muscles flexed with the movement of her hips. She slowed, looking at Rumi, her eyes wordlessly questioning how far she was willing to go. 

Her hand moved of its own volition, brushing her knuckles over Mira’s shorts and tentatively pressing into her. Mira groaned, her head falling back as she ground down onto Rumi’s fingers. The fabric dampened against Rumi’s hand as she did, and she couldn’t find it in her to do anything but watch, enchanted by the sight of Mira slowly riding her hand through her shorts.

Zoey’s hands lowered to stroke Rumi’s bare stomach, and she kissed the skin under her ear again. 

“Touch her, Rumi,” she sounded desperate, forced to watch Mira like this, so close but out of reach. “Touch her for us both, please,” she begged. 

Rumi complied. 

The air thickened around them as Rumi slowly unfolded her hand, her middle finger pulling Mira’s shorts to the side. Mira placed her hands on Rumi’s knees, and an air of smugness flitted across her face when they saw how wet she was. Her eyes spoke for her - see what you do to me?

For a moment Rumi just stared. This wasn’t the first time she had seen the body Mira hid beneath baggy clothes, but this felt different. Before, it was stolen glances in the changing rooms, at the spa, after rehearsal. Now she stared openly, drinking in the image of Mira’s ridiculously toned torso, the chub of her inner thighs gripping Rumi’s leg, her glistening folds hovering an inch away from her fingers. Mira watched her take it all in, leaning back and exposing herself confidently to her and Zoey. 

Unable to wait any longer, Rumi timidly brushed the pad of her finger across Mira’s center and gathered the slick on her fingertip. In a blur of movement, Mira grabbed her hand and lifted it to her mouth. Rumi almost resisted, at first, not knowing what she was doing. But she was glad she didn’t, because then Mira put her finger to her bottom lip, slowly licking herself off Rumi’s knuckles. She stared at her while she did it, like she enjoyed the shock on Rumi’s face. 

Rumi’s patterns flared again, and her clawed hand gripped Zoey’s thigh, digging into her flesh. She couldn’t move, couldn’t think. Just watch. 

Zoey whined, and Mira lowered Rumi’s fingers back to her core, gathering more wetness with Rumi’s fingers. Then she folded Rumi’s arm back so Zoey could taste her, too. Rumi laid there helplessly, thoughtlessly grinding against what she could, feeling Zoey’s mouth close around her fingers, the deep moan that vibrated through her hand as she licked them clean. 

“Have you ever done this before?” Mira asked, and Rumi fought to ignore Zoey’s mouth on her hand long enough to process the question.

“What? Um, no.” Rumi panted, unable to stop from rubbing herself on Mira’s thigh while they spoke. Something had come to life within her, and it was too late to feign indifference.

“Would you like me to teach you how to fuck me?” Mira said neutrally. 

A raised brow was the only thing that betrayed her polished veneer - she knew what she was doing to her, and liked it. 

She was getting off on it. 

So much for not going too fast. Rumi considered her options: she could slow things down, pull back and let things end there for the night. Excuse herself to get ready for bed, resolving to finish herself off in her bedroom (because, let’s be real, she wasn’t going to be able to fall asleep like this without… closure.) Or, she could get her sexual education from two of the hottest people she had ever known, who also happened to be the ones she trusted most in the entire world. 

Why was she worried about going too fast again? She couldn’t remember. This was Mira and Zoey we were talking about - her Mira, her Zoey. They would be fine. They could get through anything together. Besides, they had gone this far, blurred the lines this much already, and things were fine. Better, really. This still felt right. 

Maybe she should’ve had more faith in them. 

Rumi pulled her hand from Zoey’s mouth and returned it to Mira’s torso, her damp fingers splayed against Mira’s toned stomach, two fingers hooked around the angle of her waist. She marveled at the wave of goosebumps that erupted on Mira’s skin. 

She breathed out a shaky sigh. 

“Show me everything.”

Mira raised an eyebrow. 

Behind her, Zoey continued to drag her hands all over Rumi’s upper body - shoulders, neck, breasts, stomach, arms - and moved against her, grinding against nothing. She started feverishly biting Rumi’s neck like she didn’t know what else to do with herself, like she wanted Rumi so bad she just couldn’t help it. 

Above her, Mira dragged Rumi’s hand down the smooth skin of her stomach. 

“Start at my waist, just touch me. Go slow,” Mira said. 

Rumi’s hand moved down to the crease of her hip, following the moles on her stomach. She couldn’t look at anything but how wet she was, the notion a bit intimidating but unspeakably arousing. Mira was wet, Mira was dripping, for her and Zoey. They had done this to her. 

Rumi’s hands explored her, mapping her skin and feeling the flexing in her core as she continued grinding on Rumi’s lap. When her fingers brushed the lower edge of her cropped pajama top, she slowed. Mira put a hand over her wrist to move it under the fabric, brushing Rumi’s knuckle against the bare underside of her breast. Rumi’s mouth fell open wordlessly. 

Zoey’s hands returned to her breasts, pinching and massaging her, reminding her just how good it felt. She wanted to make Mira feel like that. Confidence surged, and she rubbed a thumb over Mira’s hardened nipple. Immediately, she arched into the contact, and Rumi had the sudden urge to put her mouth over it instead. She wanted to taste her, to bite her. 

Gently, of course. 

Rumi pulled Mira forward, pulling up her cropped shirt and capturing a breast in her mouth. She hissed at the sudden sensation, likely surprised at Rumi’s boldness. To be fair, Rumi was too. But the thing within was hungry, and it craved what it craved, and as long as Mira wanted to give it to her, she was damn well going to take. 

She sucked Mira’s breast with a growl, and Mira released a breathless laugh. 

“You learn quick.”

“Always have,” Rumi murmured against Mira’s chest, licking a stripe between her breasts. 

“Rumi.” 

“Mm?”

“Fuck me.” 

Mira pushed Rumi’s hand between her legs like she had before, gathering her slick on Rumi’s fingers. 

Rumi’s head spun. At the sound of Mira’s request, Zoey had bitten her neck, hard, clinging to her like a lifeboat. One of Zoey’s hands left her chest, and she felt her shove it somewhere in between them. She realized with the flexing of Zoey’s forearm against her lower back that she had started touching herself. She released a whimper against Rumi’s skin, her entire body flexing as she rubbed herself beneath her. 

“Don’t worry sweetheart, you’re next,” Mira smirked at Zoey while she pulled Rumi’s fingers toward her entrance. “Just try not to come until I say so, okay?”

She felt Zoey nod against her shoulder. 

Mira looked back at her, releasing control of her hand. She moved against it, then lined up Rumi’s fingers with her entrance. 

Slowly, she sank down.

“Fuck,” she groaned. “Fuck, Rumi, you feel so good.”

Rumi watched, awestruck, as Mira fucked herself on her fingers. 

She was warm, and wet, and soft, and Rumi saw her eyes fall closed at the pleasure. 

“Your palm, on my clit. Curl your hand,” Mira panted. 

Rumi obeyed. 

The response was almost immediate. Mira fell forward on a broken moan - her legs slotted around Rumi’s, her hips grinding down onto her palm, which was now laying flat against her lower stomach. The pressure against her own center made Rumi gasp, and their bodies moved together as Mira straddled her. She pulled Rumi into another kiss, licking into her mouth as she made sounds Rumi had never heard her make before. 

Mira’s breaths began to come unevenly, the air puffing against Rumi’s mouth sporadic and frenzied.

“Shit-”

Rumi felt the clenching around her fingers, the slick dripping down her wrist, and tried to stay still while Mira rode out her orgasm. 

“Fuck fuck fuck-”

-while Mira made herself come on her fingers. 

Rumi felt her scars pulse hot as Mira squirmed on her lap. A flare of heat licked across her skin like wildfire, and she felt the points of her fangs bite into her lower lip. 

She heard a broken, almost squeaky, moan from behind her. Zoey’s hand was rubbing furiously, Rumi could feel it against her lower back. She was probably close, too. 

Mira slumped against her, mindlessly nibbling at her neck. 

“Seems to me like you’re a natural,” she whispered against Rumi’s ear. 

Rumi pulled her fingers out of her slowly, feeling the mess they had made together against her skin.

“Mira,” Zoey begged. “Please.”

Mira lifted her head. “You actually listened?” 

“Yes, yes, please,” Zoey’s hand had slowed, probably tired from the position she had been lying in this whole time. Mira sat up and began to slowly crawl back off of Rumi’s lap. 

“Good girl. Come here.”

She sat back against the opposite end of the couch, opening her legs so Rumi could stare at the way she was still dripping.

Rumi adjusted so Zoey could slide out from behind her. 

“As I said before, it’s now Zoey’s turn,” Mira explained, sounding like a predator on the hunt. The way she stared at Rumi, she may as well have been prowling. 

Ironic, given Rumi was the one sporting fangs. 

Mira’s gaze turned playful, almost cruel. “But she’s been so good and patient, I think she deserves a little treat. Wouldn't you agree?” 

Zoey had begun to crawl off the couch, looking flushed and sweaty and painfully gorgeous. 

“Yeah,” Rumi said stupidly, still dazed from before. Whatever Mira was playing at, they were both clearly at her mercy. It was all she could do to play along, letting her mind buzz with a pleasant haze of static. 

“Rumi, has anyone ever gone down on you?”

Oh dear god, Mira was going to kill her. 

She shook her head. 

“Do you think that would be a fitting reward here?”

She nodded so hard a strand of purple hair fell out of her braid, curling against her jaw. The thought of it zipped through her like lightning - Zoey’s full lips against her clit, her soft hair tickling Rumi’s thighs as she pulled her closer and rode her face.

Mira was certainly educating her as thoroughly as she could handle.

“Remember Zoey, you’re not allowed to come until I say so. We need to make sure we catch Rumi up on everything she missed. Wouldn’t want it to end too soon, now would we?” Mira leaned back, lowering a hand to touch herself while she watched. 

Zoey was already crawling on top of Rumi, settling between her legs to hover above her. She shuddered at the kiss, feeling Zoey’s warm body pressed completely against hers, a bead of sweat tickling the back of her neck. 

“Let me taste you, Rumi, please,” Zoey whispered, like the question was torn out of her by some outside force. 

Rumi groaned, tugging her lip with her fangs when she pulled away.

“Oh my god,” Zoey whined.

“Nice fangs,” Mira said, lazily dragging a finger through her folds. “Bite her neck.”

Zoey’s face turned beet red, and Rumi’s breath quickened as Zoey slowly tilted her head. 

“Trust me, she likes it.”

Rumi lifted her face to her exposed neck, thin wisps of hair tickling her nose. She licked behind Zoey’s ear, breathing in her scent, and sank her fangs into Zoey’s neck. 

“Fuck, Rumi, oh my god,” Zoey swore, and Rumi felt her squeeze her thighs together, her hips squirming between Rumi’s spread knees. 

Mira’s hand moved in tight circles over her own clit. 

Okay, so they liked the fangs.

Huh. 

Zoey nuzzled into Rumi's neck, kissing it furiously before moving to her chest. She nibbled at Rumi’s collarbone on her way down, and Rumi saw her clench her thighs together again. 

Rumi arched when Zoey mouthed at her nipple through the fabric, her tongue swirling over her shirt, slow and firm and warm. Without thinking, she reached down to entangle a clawed hand in her hair. Zoey moaned around her nipple when Rumi tugged and pulled her lower, trying to get her where she really needed her. Rumi felt the open mouthed kisses trailing down her stomach through the haze of heat that flared through her abdomen. 

She was wet. She could feel it. The fabric of her pajama bottoms clung to her skin, made damp and slick by all that had happened. She’d been horny before, but fuck, it was never this. 

Every inch of her body came alive as Zoey kissed it. Down, over her stomach, the swell of her hip, her thighs, until she was settled between Rumi’s legs and looking up at her like she had craved this all her life. Rumi spread her legs wider, and the motion pressed her clit up against her shorts in a way that almost made her come right then and there. 

Zoey teased over the seam of her shorts with her mouth, rubbing her lips against the damp fabric. Behind her, Mira watched them both, brows furrowed. Rumi watched her insert a finger, her head falling back against the arm of the couch. 

Zoey kissed her through her shorts, open mouthed and messy, and Rumi’s patterns flared. Zoey traced one up the length of her thigh, nails grazing across her skin, and finally pulled her shorts to the side. Rumi saw the glow reflected in Zoey’s eyes before she lowered her head, licking a flat tongue up the length of her. 

“Zoey,” she breathed. 

She felt Zoey hum against her, a low vibration rumbling through her lips. She licked again, but harder, more concentrated, and sucked lightly at her clit. She groaned against her, the feeling buzzing through Rumi’s entire torso. 

“God, you taste so good,” Zoey mumbled. Rumi watched as Zoey raised her hips to slip a hand down her pajamas, her forearm flexing while she touched herself. 

Rumi’s clawed hand gripped Zoey’s hair and pulled her closer, a primal desperation washing over her at the feeling of her tongue inside her. Zoey hummed against her again, her hand moving faster in her bottoms, and Rumi noticed she had begun to tremble with the strain. 

“What do you say Rumi, you think she’s earned the right to come?”

Rumi looked up to see Mira staring at Zoey and fucking herself, and she almost came from the sight alone. Zoey looked up at her, begging with her eyes, and Rumi realized she was waiting for her permission. The idea sent a jolt of arousal through her, and she pulled Zoey’s hair, wanting to hear her make that sound again before she allowed her to finish herself off.

“Yeah, I think-” Rumi tried to think straight through the feeling of Zoey moaning against her, lips brushing against Rumi’s clit while she brought herself to the edge, “I think she’s earned it.”

“You think so? Hm. I think she can wait a little longer,” Mira said. 

Rumi froze. Mira sported a smug grin, watching Zoey collapse against Rumi’s thigh as she furiously rubbed herself. 

“Please, Mira, please please-” 

“Come here, Zoey.”

Mira pulled her fingers out of herself and spread her legs fully, patting the space in front of her. Zoey sat up, looking dazed, and wiped Rumi’s slick from her chin as she blinked. Her eyes were hazy, half-lidded, and her cheeks were flushed and dewy in the low light of the TV. She glanced back at Mira, who tapped the couch between her legs.

“We’re educating Rumi, aren’t we? Don’t want her to miss out on a full view.”

Zoey scooched back to sit in front of Mira, leaning back against her chest. 

“You can watch, Rumi, but don’t touch,” Mira said, turning Zoey’s face so she could kiss her. She gripped her chin and licked into her, sucking her lips like she was cleaning off any remnants of Rumi. 

“Mm. Zoey was right, you do taste good.” 

Mira broke the kiss and lowered her hand to Zoey’s neck, gripping it and angling her head up. She sucked her neck while she lowered her other hand to Zoey’s stomach, hitching up her shirt and splaying her fingers across Zoey’s bare skin. Zoey writhed in her embrace, spreading her thighs in invitation. 

“Mira, please, I’ve waited so long.”

“You have,” Mira said. “Rumi, would you mind taking off her bottoms for me?”

Rumi moved forward to tug Zoey’s pajamas off her legs, her skin burning hot and shivering at the contact. Zoey looked up at her, begging her with her eyes to hurry. 

“Good. Now, sit back and watch. And don’t touch yourself,” Mira reminded her, lowering a hand between Zoey’s legs. She strained against Mira’s grip, writhing under her touch. 

Rumi took it in - Mira’s hold around her jaw, Zoey’s back arching against her chest, the way Mira stared at Rumi like she knew how turned on she was. She was light-headed at the sight of it. 

Zoey moaned, high and breathy, at Mira’s fingers dragging over her. Mira started slow, teasing her, waiting for her to whine for more, then started to speed up. Her long fingers pressed and rubbed and dipped into her, and Rumi could hear how wet Zoey was. 

Rumi squeezed her thighs together, remembering that she wasn’t allowed to touch herself while she watched. For some reason, knowing she couldn’t made her want to even more. Her hips strained with the effort of remaining as still as possible, and she didn’t know how much longer she could last before begging Mira for release herself. 

“Rumi, come here,” Mira said, sounding out of breath. “Help me take care of our Zoey.”

She crawled forward, hovering above Zoey’s half-naked body. 

“Put those fangs to good use and help me make her come,” Mira commanded, pulling back Zoey’s jaw to reveal the smooth expanse of her neck. 

Rumi didn’t have to think. She lowered her mouth to Zoey’s flushed skin, grazing her teeth against her before nipping. Zoey writhed beneath her, and she heard her choke out a request. 

“Fuck, I’m gonna come, Mira, Rumi, please-” 

“Come for us, baby,” Mira breathed, “show us how good we make you feel.”

Rumi was lost in the scent of Zoey’s neck, thick with arousal, heady and rich and sweet in a way only Zoey could be. She bit down again, hard. 

“Oh my god, oh my god-” 

Zoey’s legs clamped closed around Mira’s hand, and Rumi felt her thighs trembling with the force of her orgasm. Mira whispered something into her ear that Rumi couldn’t hear, and Zoey moaned again. When Zoey’s shaking had finally calmed, Mira pulled her hand away and held her fingers to Zoey’s mouth, letting her lick her clean. 

Rumi held herself above them, unsure of what to do and painfully aware of the pressure that had built in her own abdomen. Watching Zoey come had only reminded her of how horny she was, and she felt the slick between her thighs whenever she moved her hips. 

“Good girl,” Mira purred as she helped Zoey sit up. “You did so well for us. Did that feel good?” 

Zoey smiled, eyes still half-lidded. Another shiver wracked her body as an aftershock, and she whined as she pulled Mira into a slow, tender kiss. Mira brushed the hair from her face and stroked a finger down her neck, holding her softly in the wake of what they’d just done. 

Then Mira pulled away from the kiss and turned her attention to Rumi, smiling like she was about to collect her next victim. 

“I feel like Rumi’s all caught up on what she missed, don’t you?” she asked, and Zoey nodded, her gaze becoming clearer by the second. “I think it’s her turn.”

Rumi laid back on the couch, helpless to whatever they were going to do to her. 

“How are you feeling, sweetheart?”

Rumi blinked, searching for words through the emptiness of her mind. 

“Um, good. I feel… hot,” she said.

“Hot?”

“You look hot,” Zoey added, apparently having regained her ability to speak. She crawled over to Rumi, sidling up next to her. “You’re glowing like crazy.” 

Zoey laid next to her, propping herself up on her elbow. Her leg swung over Rumi’s leg, gently pulling her knees apart. She reached for a pattern arcing across her torso, dragging her fingers across it like she had before. 

Technicolor light erupted from Rumi’s skin, and she felt her muscles tense involuntarily. Her demon hand dug into the couch, burying her claws in the cushions. Zoey dragged her eyes across the length of her body. 

“Don’t hide it,” Zoey chided. “We like it.”

Rumi’s head spun. Zoey’s fingers caressed across her stomach, tracing the patterns lazily, and Mira pulled her hand out from between the couch cushions. She kissed her palm, dragging her lips down to the sharp tips of her claws, eventually resting Rumi’s demon hand on her shoulder. 

Rumi laid there, dumbstruck, watching her girls adore the very things she hated about herself the most. 

Mira’s eyes grew soft. 

“Rumi, you are so beautiful.” 

Zoey hummed in agreement, her hand moving to gently push the hairs from Rumi’s forehead. 

A wave of electricity sparked beneath her skin again, the patterns glowing gold. For some reason a tear streaked down her cheek. They had broken her apart and pieced her together again, every shred of her alive, and whole, and loved. 

“Touch me,” she begged. “Please.”

Zoey turned Rumi’s face to her own, pulling her into a tender kiss. 

“Anything you want.”

Mira leaned down to kiss her collarbone, her long pink hair brushing against Rumi’s bare skin. 

“Can I take these off?” Mira hooked a finger in Rumi’s shorts. “I want to see you.” 

Rumi lifted her hips, shimmying out of her bottoms. Mira threw them carelessly over the back of the couch, dragging a hand up the length of her entire leg. Her fingers dug into the flesh of her thigh, and Rumi squeezed around nothing. 

Zoey nipped at her ear, dragging a finger over her chest. “She’s been so good, Mira. Don’t torture her.”

“I won’t make her wait long. She has been so very patient,” Mira kissed down her chest, then returned to hover over Rumi’s face. “What do you say, sweetheart - would you like us to make you feel good?”

Rumi moaned, unable to do anything but lay back and let them ruin her. 

“I think that’s a yes,” Zoey said. She kissed behind Rumi’s ear. “I think she’s never wanted anything more in her life.” 

Rumi had to agree. 

“Please, it hurts,” Rumi pleaded. She ached. She needed to come so bad. 

She needed them to let her. 

“I suppose since you’re being so polite about it,” Mira said.

Rumi gasped at the feeling of Mira’s fingers brushing over her. She moved with precision, teasing lightly over her folds to feel how wet she was, circling around where Rumi needed her. She arched into the touch, hoping Mira sensed how desperate she was for more. 

“So sensitive,” Zoey cooed. Her lips brushed the shell of Rumi’s ear, and her hands continued exploring her breasts, brushing over her nipples. “Looks like we’ve got you right where we want you.” 

“Please,” Rumi begged. For what, she didn’t know, but she knew they could give it to her. 

Mira pressed a finger to her entrance, stretching her opening but not slipping entirely inside. Rumi’s knees fell open, a sigh torn from her lips.

“You want more? If I didn’t know better, I’d call you greedy.”

“I like her greedy.” 

They teased her, edged her, and Rumi’s patterns burned, her whole body alight with heat and lust and fire. She rolled her hips into Mira’s hand, frantic and thoughtless, and tilted her head so Zoey could return to her neck. 

“You’re glowing, unnie,” Zoey whispered into the hairline behind her ear. “I’ve never seen you this desperate before.”

“Take a deep breath, and do your best to relax. Tell me if it’s too much,” Mira said, dragging her fingers over Rumi’s entrance. “You ready?”

“Yeah,” she said breathlessly.

“You sure?” Mira teased her, dipping her fingertip but never quite inserting. 

“Yes, Mira, fuck-”

She slid a finger inside, and Rumi saw stars. 

Zoey pinched her nipple as Mira thrusted, slow and controlled and torturous. The feeling traveled up Rumi’s spine in a jolt, and the fire flared within. Movement and pressure and heat, the weight of Mira’s body pressing into her own, her hand pushing deeper, harder, the curl of her finger, oh god-

Zoey straddled her leg from the side, and Rumi felt how wet she was against her bare skin. She remembered Zoey’s face when she came, how the soft skin of her stomach stuttered as her muscles tensed. Mira’s face twisting, her eyebrows furrowed in something like anguish but sweeter, her core clenching around Rumi’s fingers, the wet dripping down her hand as she grinded against her. Bits and pieces of the evening came back in flashes, moments frozen in time like amber, reduced to a dizzying blur of sensations. 

Rumi’s stomach tightened as Mira fucked her, full and close and heavy, as Zoey kissed her neck and groped at her chest. Mira hovered over her, bodies pressed tightly together, the smell of her closing in around her, bracing her. Mira was so gorgeous like this, face pinched in concentration, breath coming fast. Rumi kissed her. Mindless and wet, tongues licking deep. Rumi murmured into her mouth, begged for harder, faster, more. Mira added a finger, then put the weight of her hips behind her hand and pounded into her, grinding her palm against Rumi’s clit with the force of her thrusts. Zoey whispered into her ear how good she was doing, how pretty she looked like this, how good she felt. Rumi gasped for air, and-

“Fuck, I’m gonna come,” she panted. “Mira- Zoey-”

Zoey nuzzled into her neck, her hand squeezing her breast rhythmically. “Let go, baby, we’ve got you.”

“Yeah? This feels good?” Mira fucked her harder, the sound of her hand against Rumi’s skin wet and loud. 

“Feels so good,” Rumi mumbled. Her mind was static, her skin aflame. “So good, feels so good, fuck-” 

“Come for us, pretty girl,” Zoey purred. 

“Now,” Mira said. 

The wave frothed, and swelled, and broke. Rumi shuddered with the force of it. Her patterns lit up like lightning, the heat arcing through her, and her clawed hand clung to Mira’s back as she clenched around her fingers. Fire raced up her spine, and Zoey pressed their foreheads together as she did her best to remember to breathe. 

Mira slowed her thrusts, stilling the fingers inside her until she stopped shaking. Rumi let out a sharp exhale as she slowly pulled them out, tensing with the sudden absence. Sweat dripped down the side of her neck from the exertion, and she felt the soft pad of Zoey’s tongue lick it off. 

“You’re so fucking hot, Rumi,” she said. 

“Zoey’s never been more right in her life,” Mira sighed, pulling Rumi into a searing kiss. “We’re going to have to do that again.” 

Rumi couldn’t comprehend ever doing anything again. Her body sank into the couch, completely drained. 

“I mean, we do have a bathhouse all to ourselves now,” Zoey smirked. 

“We do,” Mira said, lifting an eyebrow. 

The idea set Rumi’s patterns alight again. A thousand images of them in the bathhouse assaulted her consciousness. 

“Looks like somebody’s a fan of the idea,” Zoey said. 

Rumi blushed. “Stop reading my patterns like that, it’s- you’re cheating.” 

“Kind of hard to ignore when they’re… like that,” Mira said, settling down to lay on Rumi’s chest. She reached out to trace the edge of one, her expression softening. “You really are so gorgeous, Rumi.”

Zoey kissed Rumi’s temple, snuggling into the her side and draping an arm over Mira’s back. 

“You are. Thank you for letting us see you.” 

Rumi stared at the ceiling, tears pricking the corners of her eyes. Her girls cuddled in closer, pressing their faces into her, and her patterns hummed with a soft golden glow. 

Maybe this was their way of showing her how they loved her for who she was, demon and all.

Maybe she believed them.