Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“So, how did the sitter work out?”

“Uh, not very good.” Rumi was struggling, her cellphone pinned between her shoulder and her cheek while she had an armful of inconsolable child holding onto her clothes for dear life. Mi-Jin was clutching onto her as if the word would end if she let go for a single second.

“Oh, no. I can hear her crying.” Bobby’s voice was full of sympathy on the other line and Rumi could perfectly imagine his heartbroken expression. The only person who came close to loving Mi-Jin as much as she did was Bobby. He had been the first one to hold her after Rumi, doing things that far surpassed his obligations as her assistant. Rumi considered him family, even if he was still on her payroll. “What happened?”

“Oh, the usual.” Rumi was trying to calm Mi-Jin down, alternating between bouncing, rocking, and pressing kisses against her daughter’s flushed, teary face. None of it was working and Rumi’s poor joints were suffering because of it. Mi-Jin was getting way too big to be carried around all of the time and though Rumi would never admit it, her days of physical excellence were becoming distant memories. “I managed to slip out and it took MiMi all of five minutes to realize I was gone and start screaming bloody murder.”

A deep, sympathetic sigh came out of her phone’s tiny speakers, barely audible over Mi-Jin’s crying. “I’m really sorry Rumi. I thought this one would work out. The agency said she’s worked with kids in family situations like yours before.”

Rumi had seen that flag on the nanny’s information. It stood out like a neon flare

“Works with grieving children to offer support to surviving parent”

She knew it wouldn’t work. Mi-Jin wasn’t the one grieving, really. Mi-Jin never met her father. She had only ever seen his tombstone, more bored than anything whenever Rumi took them to visit his grave. Rumi tried to tell Mi-Jin all about Jinu whenever she could muster up the courage, but a child could only be so invested in a parent that died before they were born. It would probably be easier when Mi-Jin was older and could understand more, but Rumi wasn’t inclined to make her daughter grieve when she could just enjoy being a kid instead.

“I know. I thought it would work out, too.” Rumi lied, moving to sit on the couch with Mi-Jin in her lap instead. It was mostly to give her knees and hips mercy. “Maybe I should delay my return to the office and keep working from home, you know?”

“You have been saying that for two years now. I don’t want to speak out of place, but you need to put yourself out there and start living again, Rumi.” Out of place? She almost broke Bobby’s hand when she gave birth to Mi-Jin. He was the only person who was with her in the delivery room. Jinu had no living extended family, both of Rumi’s parents were long dead, and Celine and Rumi hadn’t spoken since the announcement of their elopement. If anyone was in the right place to say that to her, it was Bobby. “Even if it's just to have an afternoon to yourself. I’m worried about you.”

“I’m a single mom, not a helpless prisoner.” Rumi tried to joke, absolutely falling flat from the exhaustion weighing on her voice. Mi-Jin was beginning to calm now that her eomma had sat down, less likely to disappear again.

“I’m going to figure something else out, trust me.” Bobby continued, ever-determined. Rumi could only sag and let out a sigh, not looking forward to going through this painful trial and error (mostly error) again. “There has to be someone, somewhere who will work for Mi-Jin.”

“So far it's just Eomma.”

“You know what I mean. I’ll talk to you later, okay? You have that meeting in three days. I’ll find someone before then.”

“Sounds good.” Rumi said, closing her eyes and taking a deep breath. Mi-Jin mimicked her, her lips still quivering as she followed her Eomma’s super special calm down exercises. “I’ll talk to you later.”

The call ended and Rumi tossed her phone to the side, wrapping Mi-Jin firmly into her arms and cuddling her. Her daughter still had her jet black hair in two pigtails, a little loose and messy from the earlier meltdown. The adorable yellow dress Rumi dressed her in was now stained across the front from when Mi-Jin flipped her plate of nuggets and ketchup during her hysterics. It was probably staining Rumi’s clothes, too, but she was too tired to care.

“Are you gonna leave me again?” Mi-Jin’s voice was tiny and weak, her tears wetting the collar of Rumi’s blouse where her face was tucked close. Rumi squeezed her close, pressing a kiss to her temple.

“No, sweetie. I was never leaving you and I will never, ever leave you.”

“But you were gone. ” Mi-Jin said, breath hitching again.

“I was just going out to run some errands. I was going to come back - I will always come back.”

Rumi knew Mi-Jin was nowhere near convinced, but the little girl had worn herself out crying enough to not continue the debate. It would be a longer conversation for later, when Rumi wasn’t dead on her feet and Mi-Jin wasn’t on the knife’s edge of breaking down again.

“Are you tired, sweetie?” Rumi asked softly, rubbing soothing circles across Mi-Jin’s back. Mi-Jin nodded, but made no move to lessen her grip on Rumi’s blouse. “Okay. Eomma will take you upstairs for a nap, okay? I won’t go anywhere.”

“Promise?”

“I promise. I’ll stay with you while you fall asleep and be right there when you wake up.”

“... Okay.”

With a heave, Rumi stood from the couch, carrying Mi-Jin up to her room and bumping open the door with her hip. The room was painstakingly decorated, most of them selected by Bobby, to be a bedroom fit for a little princess. The walls were painted a soothing purple, glow in the dark stars scattered around and absorbing the light from the fairy lights running across the ceiling. Everything was frilly and lacy, from the curtains, to the bedsheets, all the way to the honest to god canopy on the toddler sized bed and every piece of clothing in Mi-Jin’s closet.

Rumi wished she could take credit for it, but could never bring herself to lift a single finger when it came to designing her daughter’s nursery. That was something she was supposed to be doing with Jinu. Picking out paint colors and themes was something Rumi imagined doing with him by her side, both of them teeming with excitement about what their baby would be like and counting down the days to her due date.

But Jinu never even knew she was pregnant. Rumi didn’t either, not until he was already gone.

Don’t be mistaken. Rumi loved her daughter with every bit of her heart. Sometimes she couldn’t help but ache about the whole situation, though. She was never properly given time to grieve Jinu, not when she had to focus on healing, having a baby, and then raising it without him. Rumi wanted her husband, but Mi-Jin needed her mother more. Rumi didn’t know if it was for better or worse that Mi-Jin was Jinu’s carbon copy, looking like her father’s face had been copied and pasted onto hers. Sometimes it filled Rumi’s heart with warmth, seeing a part of him live on. Other times, it was a punch to the gut, a hole in her heart that never healed.

Even then, sitting in Mi-Jin’s room and watching her fall asleep clutching a blue tiger plush to her chest, Rumi was riding a rollercoaster of emotions too tangled for her to figure out. A few therapists had tried, but she always felt like all of her energy needed to be put towards taking care of Mi-Jin and that she could figure out herself later.

Sitting in the rocking chair in the corner of Mi-Jin’s room, the one she used to sit in during all of the late night feedings, Rumi kept her promise, not going anywhere as Mi-Jin napped. Her phone quietly buzzed in her pocket and she fished it out, half expecting another email from Bobby and being pleasantly surprised.

Honestly, other than Bobby, Mira was the one person Rumi could keep close nowadays and the only one Rumi would ever think about sharing her troubles with. Sure, Mira was constantly telling her that she should learn to accept much more help and to be far more open, but what little she was willing to let Mira in to see was massive to her.

Mira had become such a rock for her, even if they had only met in person enough times to exchange contact info. At first, Rumi was closed off, glued to the wall at some charity gala when Mira approached her. She was ready to politely duck away and avoid any socialization before Mira stated outright that her parents were forcing her to talk to Rumi because they wanted “connections” and that she was coming to talk to Rumi to genuinely get to know her as some weird fuck you to her parents. Rumi was too confused to be guarded, deciding that sharing a conversation with this spitfire of a woman might not be too bad. In the end, they couldn’t talk for long. Not when Rumi had a nine month old infant at home.

They traded contact info, taking a solid year before they were texting and chatting daily. Another year passed before they realized they felt a little more towards each other than just best friends, but Rumi was far too broken to let that go any further. Mira took it in stride and said that it didn’t matter what their relationship was or what feelings they had for each other. What Rumi was comfortable with is what she would give.

As Mi-Jin got older and theoretically less dependent, Mira had begun urging Rumi to start a new chapter, to find an identity other than Rumi, the widow or Rumi, the retired popstar with a tragic ending. Rumi wished it was that easy, that she could be stronger for Mi-Jin and that she could let herself feel more and be more with Mira, but every glance at the faded scars covering her entire body sent her back to square one.

Rumi smiled to herself, easily sending back a heart of her own. She loved Mira, but it was … complicated. Maybe one day she would figure it out, but that day hasn’t come. It was just especially impossible to figure out when she had a daughter that was practically made of velcro.

Honestly, Mi-Jin’s severe separation anxiety wasn’t one-sided either. When she was with Jinu, Rumi finally felt like she had a family, that she could have a family and in one sudden blaze, that dream was gone. Every time Mi-Jin wasn’t nearby, anxiety stabbed into Rumi’s chest, beyond what could be considered normal for a helicopter mom. Her daughter was her last piece of Jinu and the only blood-related family she had ever had in her entire life . She had to dedicate every second of every day to proving that she was allowed to have this, that she could be the mom she never had and the one Celine failed to step in as.

In some morbid act of grace, Mi-Jin was also the only reason her and Celine were on somewhat speaking terms. While rigid and unapproachable, Celine wasn’t heartless. That or she just saw Mi-Jin as another remnant of the precious Ryu Mi-yeong, one that hadn’t “betrayed” her yet. Rumi tentatively allowed them to have a weird grandparent-esque relationship but knew if she ever saw Celine try to railroad Mi-Jin into singing or dancing lessons, that she would have to pull the plug.

Celine probably already had that idea, being the first to offer to babysit Mi-Jin. Rumi shot that down pretty quickly, saying she was too scared to be alone in the early stages of her healing. It was pretty much true, after all.

That left Rumi in her own little world, her phone being the one peek of the outside world that consisted of Celine, Bobby, and Mira, while her and little Mi-Jin figured out life together. Unfortunately every time they managed to master one thing, the ever changing world of child-rearing threw something else at them. She couldn’t keep Mi-Jin to herself for much longer. There was less than a year left before Mi-Jin would have to start school and Rumi had no doubts that Celine had vetted hundreds of private tutors while Bobby compiled a detailed list of every private school in South Korea.

When she mentioned schooling to Mira in the past, she got a reply back that said “fuck it idk get her a forklift operator certification” and Rumi laughed for a solid five minutes as the stress of everything temporarily left her body.  Mira had been raised in private schools, in boarding schools, and with private tutors and definitely had opinions about it, ones she didn’t hesitate to share.

Nothing felt like the correct way to go. Motherhood was truly a dream.

As long as Mi-Jin is happy Rumi thought to herself, watching her precious daughter sleep in her cutesy purple bed.

The rest of the night went without much fanfare, though it was probably because Rumi didn’t leave Mi-Jin’s sight until it was time to go to bed for real. After two bedtime stories, five good night kisses, and one good inspection to make sure there were no monsters under the bed (which Mi-Jin actually wanted for some reason and was always bummed when Rumi said there were none), Rumi felt like a husk of herself. Or really, more of a husk than she felt like before. With Mi-Jin asleep, she was just … alone.

Mi-Jin always slept through the night. There was nothing else for her to do. Mira was busy with other events, though none on her parents’ behest. She only did what she wanted now and Rumi had no expectation or desire to monopolize all of her attention. Rumi already felt bad enough feeling like she was stringing Mira along, despite Mira assuring her hundreds of times that was not the case.

Quietly shuffling to her office, she sat and flipped on the baby monitor on her desk, setting it to the side so she could keep an eye on it while she worked on her computer. There were a dozen emails she needed to reply to, especially since her anticipated return to the office did not go to plan again . Rumi knew for a fact that if she wasn’t the kind-of-adopted-daughter of the CEO or if she didn’t have a decent amount of shares of Sunlight Entertainment, she would be fucked job-wise.

Her official title was Lead Creative Director, sitting at a computer looking at countless concept boards and drafts of whatever merch designs, promotional material, or product components for whichever popstars Sunligjt Entertainment have under contract. They didn’t need her to be physically at the office, but it sure would have made some things a little smoother if she were.

Or so Celine claims.

Luckily the emails weren’t that hard to deal with, Rumi finishing them up quickly and closing anything and everything work related off of her desktop. She sat back in her chair, chewing a bit on her bottom lip as her eyes flicked back and forth from the baby monitor to the clock on her computer screen. Carefully setting the baby monitor face down, Rumi swallowed down her shame and opened a frequently used website of hers. The screen turned from her bland desktop wallpaper to a candy pink monstrosity of a site with the name in damning cursive letters at the top of the page.

Lovely Cams on Demand

Okay so single mom or not, Rumi had needs.

The only person she could imagine being intimate with was someone who had so much more to do with their life than be weighed down by a widow with a five year old and Rumi wasn’t about to go prowling hookup apps. That’s early 20’s shit and in her early 20’s she is definitely not.

Not to mention there was no chance in hell she was letting anyone see her undressed. Not when pale, shiny scars lashed all across her skin. They looked much better than when they were fresh, having gone from blistering, blackened red to what they were now, but it was still an eyesore in Rumi’s opinion. She barely even let Mira see them, only showing glimpses in pictures when she wasn’t wearing makeup to cover the ones on her face or gloves for the ones on her hands.

Rumi’s imagination could get her there just fine, but she wanted a little more. Porn worked for a bit, but it still felt isolating. It was with great embarrassment that she clicked on a link to a camgirl site, flicking through the profiles at random until one livestream caught her eye.

SunneeZee, 22

Zee streamed twice a week, Fridays and Tuesdays at 9pm, without fail. The clock on Rumi’s computer read 9:05, which meant she hadn’t missed anything yet. It was easy to find Zee’s profile, considering Rumi wasn’t subscribed to anyone else.

The collection of thumbnails of random cam models disappeared, her screen filled with the familiar sight of Zee kneeling on her seaform green bedsheets, her hair in its signature space buns and wearing a two piece lingerie set in a shade of blue that complimented her pale skin beautifully.

“Hello everyone! I see everyone beginning to pour in and it's looking like it's gonna be a good night.” Zee addressed the camera, speaking to the chatroom of over three hundred people flitting across the side of the stream. There were already pinging noises from donations, albeit nothing big just yet. Rumi was already inching her mouse towards the big, bright “DONATE” button.

“I put a poll up earlier today for what you guys might want to see and I got some rather surprising results,” Zee continued, twirling one of the strands of hair that framed her round, smiling face. “I know you guys loooove me being a perfect little toy to play around with, but apparently you have been craving something more dominant.”

Oh.

Oh no.

“-So today we’re gonna do some dirty talk where I talk you guys through exactly what I want from you. I’m going to be referring to my precious little fans who love getting fucked, rather than doing the fucking. Sound good?”

A flurry of chimes from donations came in, the chat either expressing their approval or lamenting their preferences not being the focus of the night. Rumi sure as shit knew which one she was, already reaching down to unbutton her slacks and shove them down and off. Her other hand clicked the donation button, not hesitating to send a frankly absurd amount for only being nine minutes into the stream.

“There you are, PurpleTiger226. Always good to have you here. Don’t start spending too much yet! We haven’t even gotten to the good parts!” said Zee, Rumi torn between wanting to shrivel up and die or imploding from horny. The username she ended up choosing was so, so stupid and had she known she would end up being known by name because of how much money she dropped on Zee’s streams, she might have chosen something better. She just couldn’t help herself, not when Zee’s beautiful face lit up every time the payments went through.

“Don’t worry guys, I haven’t forgotten about you. I just like to make sure my regulars and biggest donors feel appreciated. We all know PurpleTiger is a super nice lady, after all. It’s support like hers that keeps me coming back every stream, after all.”

God. Rumi wanted to crawl in a hole and die.

She doesn’t remember how she gave away that she was a woman, but she knows it was probably during some horny stream of conscience back and forth with Zee via chatroom and donations. The fact that Zee not only remembered her username and that she was a woman was mortifying.

There was another collection of pings, some of the incoming requests causing Zee to let out that adorable laugh of hers.

“Okay, okay. I’ll give you guys something before we start.” Rumi watched with bated breath as Zee reached behind herself, finding the clasp of her bra and unlatching it. Ever so slowly, she slipped the lacy garment off, revealing the most beautiful pair of breasts Rumi had ever seen topped with perfectly pert and round nipples. Approval and donations flooded the chat, Rumi practically operating on autopilot as she sent another donation of her own.

Beginning to feel constricted, Rumi started unbuttoning her stuffy, long sleeved blouse and shoved it off, leaving herself sitting in her underwear locked inside her office watching a topless camgirl with rapt attention. There was something about Zee that made Rumi forget about the anxiety of any of her scarred body being exposed, even if it was just to herself.

“Alright, now I want you to sit back and get yourself comfortable.” Zee’s voice turned soft, leaning towards the camera as she ran her fingers down her neck, between her breasts, and towards her abdomen. “Imagine it's me, touching you, teasing you, just like that.”

Rumi swallowed hard, following the instructions and nodding as if Zee could actually see her. She imagined Zee was right with her, touching her with those soft looking hands and treating her like the most wonderful thing in the world.

“Look at you baby. You’re already trembling. You needed this bad, didn’t you?”

Yes, yes I did.

“Play with those pretty tits of yours. Let me see them. Do you want me to kiss them? Suck on them?”

More than anything. It’d feel amazing. Rumi thought, clumsily unclasping her bra and throwing it carelessly to the side. She pinched at her own hardened nipples, holding back a pathetic whimper.

“You’re doing so good, baby. Are you wet for me? Show me. I wanna see how wet my pretty girl is.”

Rumi nodded again, dipping her hand downward and under her panties. She was soaked.

“Oh, wow. Is that all for me?”

All for you.

“Go ahead and give your clit a few circles. Gently. Remember that it's my fingers. I want to be sweet to you, baby.”

Just the gentle touch had Rumi’s breath hitching, so easy to key up from her years long dry spell. The last time she had sex was before the accident. Before Mi-Jin.

“God, baby. You’re so perfect. A little faster? I want you nice and wet for my fingers. Do you want two this time or three? Will they slide right in?”

Rumi let her hand travel lower, pressing the tips of her index and middle finger inside. Zee was doing the exact motions on stream, showing her audience exactly what she wanted to do to them. Her face was beginning to flush, her breath quickening as she played with herself.

“You’re so fucking wet, baby. You take me so well.” Zee whined, her hand thrusting underneath her panties. She shifted around, pushing the underwear down and revealing her slick folds. Rumi’s mouth suddenly felt very dry. “Let’s get those out of the way, yeah? I can fuck you better like this, like you deserve.”

Rumi hastily shoved her underwear off, now completely naked in her desk chair. She sunk her fingers in further, quietly moaning as she matched Zee’s pace. Her entire body moved on its own at Zee’s instruction, as if she was the one right there touching Rumi’s body.

Zee’s fingers inside of her, curling just right. Zee whispering so sweetly in her ear, calling her a good girl. Zee speeding up her wrist, pinching and pulling Rumi’s nipples with her free hand. Zee telling her to keep going, to let her hear the moans. Zee’s hand getting soaked, drenched in Rumi’s slick as the thrusts got harder, hit the right spots, more and more and more

Rumi came with a cry on her own fingers, quietly crying out Zee’s name. Zee was riding the waves of her own orgasm, writhing so sweetly for the camera. Rumi couldn’t tell if it was because of how good the mic was or how wet Zee was, but she could hear the slick noises of Zee’s fingers during the last few thrusts.

Letting out a sated, adorable little sigh, Zee withdrew her fingers, shamelessly licking them clean to the glee of all of her viewers. With one last long pull of her tongue from her palm to the tip of her middle finger, Zee smiled wide at the camera. It almost felt like she was looking right at Rumi.

“How was that, pretty girl?”

Unable to answer Zee directly, Rumi hit the donate button once again.

Chapter Text

Mira tucked her phone away, taking one last look around as the flight attendants began their preparations for landing. The captain’s voice on the intercom told them they were about twenty minutes from landing in Seoul, Mira already feeling the relief in her bones after almost 13 hours in the air. While she managed to get herself a nice, private suite style seat that allowed her to sleep comfortably, you could only have so much comfort stuck in a metal tube for half of an entire day.

Luckily she had no plans of travelling for a little while after she finally touched down in Korea. Over the past year, she had been bouncing across the world, finally making headway on her collection of galleries in Europe. The openings went on without a hitch, the bulk of the work now passed on to staff she trusted with her life.

With each passing day, Mira needed her trust fund less and less. She had already thrown her shares of her family’s business back at them, not wanting to be under their thumb for one more second. Turning 25 was a beautiful thing because that meant her trust fund was finally hers and she didn’t have to go through hundreds of hoops to access it. Her parents were probably hoping she’d get married before then to access the trust, but Mira had been ignoring the countless prospective husbands they had been throwing her way for years.

Now she was 27, about to be 28, making her own path and living on her terms. She would never act as if she did it on her own. It would have been impossible without her family’s money. Everything else was her, though.

Her family had no chance of trying to take credit for any of her achievements, mostly because they didn’t want to. Mira should have been married, supporting her husband in furthering her family’s connections and affairs. The daughter they wanted wasn’t supposed to be running around the world, dressing in couture and stealing the spotlight at fashion shows and gallery openings.

While the grind was its own kind of fun, she was excited to stay in Seoul for a while. She was only ever back in Korea a few days out of every month before she was off to another part of the world. Now she wanted to stay put, not be dealing with constant jet lag, and most importantly, to be closer to Rumi.

Distance made it way too convenient for Rumi to wave off Mira’s support, always saying that she couldn’t possibly drag Mira down with her boring life. Mira knew her and Rumi were complicated, but she was more than happy to deal with some boring if it meant her and Rumi could be closer. Maybe she could even try her hand at watching after Mi-Jin if it meant Rumi would be able to take care of herself for once.

Rumi agreed to meet like she usually did whenever Mira was in Seoul, but this time, it wasn’t going to just be a quick “hi” and “bye”. They were going to finally, finally be a part of each other’s lives, whatever that meant for them.

MIra kind of regretted scheduling a meeting before she could see Rumi, though. She had one last meeting with an artist, though this time it was for herself and not one of her galleries. During her last stop in Seoul, she stumbled upon a hidden talent in the indie scene, a vibrant, loud, unapologetic style that spoke to her soul . For the longest time, Mira had wanted to commission something to commemorate her success, her return to Seoul, and the start of the rest of her life.

She had wanted to visit Rumi first, but the artist said she was busy on Tuesday nights. Not wanting to risk anyone snatching this artist out from under her, Mira agreed to meet for dinner on her first day back and pushed off seeing Rumi and Mi-Jin to the day after.

Just a little longer, Mira thought, feeling the plane begin to descend. She felt the comforting weight of her phone in her pocket, the precious connection she had to Rumi. Just a little longer and then we’ll all figure out where life takes us.

***

A distant clatter sounded through the apartment, Zoey immediately shooting up to her feet and dashing to the source.

For once, just once, she would like to be able to work in peace. Her mind was already going haywire over the fancy-schmancy dinner meeting she had the next day. For the past hour, she had been trying to distract herself with Stardew Valley, doodling, van life vlogs, and even a shitty attempt at meditation. Anything to help her with the nerves wreaking havoc on her brain.

Unfortunately, she had a very dumb, very clumsy cat who seemed deadset on adding to the anxiety.

“Derpy! Where are you?” she called out, bursting out of her room and looking around. It didn’t seem like the sound was coming from the kitchen or living room and she was extra careful about keeping the bathroom door closed, so that meant he could only be in one other place.

Crossing the hallway, Zoey peeked into what was supposed to be a second bedroom for some theoretical roommate, but was now her bedroom for “work” purposes.

Of course she couldn’t actually stream from her real bedroom! It was a disaster half the time and the walls were plastered with photos of family and friends and random doodles torn out of her notebooks. That was Zoey’s space. This bedroom was SunneeZee’s space.

It was painstakingly decorated and lighted, making sure every angle Zoey was in was a flattering one. That was no easy task considering she was seen from a lot of angles when she was live. Directly opposite of her carefully curated “work bed” was her streaming setup, complete with a computer and desk flanked by tripods, studio lights, and an organized set of drawers for her work “outfits” and “tools”.

At the base of her desk, next to an incriminating pile of glass shards, was a flat faced, perpetually shocked looking cat, staring up at Zoey like nothing was wrong whatsoever.

“Dang it …” Zoey sighed, kneeling down to shoo Derpy away from the mess. She must have left an empty mug on the desk from when she was up late editing clips for her socials. It was one of her favorites, a little arts and crafts project that was gifted to her by one of the kids she babysat on the regular a few years back. Carefully gathering the pieces, she wondered if she could piece it back together later. “Just another chore to add to my plate.” she muttered.

She knew trying to live on her own would be hectic, but she thought that would be from working the same job every day to scrape by. She could have never imagined she’d end up doing so well for herself without needing to kill herself on some 9-5 soul sucking day job.

The first job she started was babysitting. Turns out a lot of Korean parents went feral at the idea of a sitter who was fluent in English that could possibly help their kids learn. In the beginning, it was inconsistent work that left her eating ramyeon out of necessity instead of preference in a cramped, basement level studio apartment. As she got more raving reviews, families would recommend her to other families and before she knew it, as one kid outgrew needing her services, another family would be lined up eager to hire her.

The second job was a struggle. Zoey loved being an artist with every fiber of her being, but that almost never paid the bills. It took years of grinding, drawing until her hands blistered and painting with every drop she could squeeze out of the tubes to get her work out there. She still didn’t have as much of a client base when it came to art, but she had been getting good traction more recently. Hence the dinner meeting.

Her third job is what gave her the life she had now. Comfortable, not wondering if she could afford anything other than instant noodles and eggs. She never had to worry about a surprise vet bill breaking her bank or if she could make rent, even being able to move out of her shitty basement studio into a decent two-bedroom apartment in a nice part of the city. It wasn’t the upper echelons of society, but it was good. Zoey could have never imagined being a camgirl would turn out this well for her.

She especially couldn’t have predicted just how much fans were willing to support her. There were a handful that could spend hundreds each stream, but Zoey got lucky in snagging one that paid thousands. She had no fucking clue who PurpleTiger226 was, but if she ever met her, she would immediately fall to her knees and profusely thank her for helping her get to where she is now.

There wasn’t even anything special about the last stream. It had just been guided masturbation. No toys, no fancy outfits, not even roleplaying, really. That didn’t stop PurpleTiger226 from sending a total of three grand. Zoey wished she had money like that to drop random whims.

Maybe she would, if this dinner meeting worked out. The patron she was meeting had snapped up a few of her pieces for well above asking price over the past month and apparently wanted a proper commission. Given how much they were willing to spend on random paintings, Zoey could only imagine what they had budgeted for a custom piece.

Sweeping up the shards of the mug and setting them aside to fiddle with later, Zoey stopped in front of the vanity in her streaming room that she used for getting ready. She tried to ignore her silly turtle pajamas and fluffy headband holding her bangs back, sizing herself up.

“You got this, Zoey.” she said to her reflection, adopting a serious expression. “You’re gonna be a real, successful artist. You,” she pointed at herself, trying to sound as stern as possible, “Are a boss ass bitch. You are Zoey Lee, super awesome artist and SunneeZee, sexy as fuck cam model.”

There was a weird, raspy meow at her feet. She visibly sagged.

“And the owner of a not smart cat who breaks things and drinks out of the toilet.” she said with a sigh. Bending down, she scooped Derpy up and left her stream room, closing the door behind her. Returning to her bedroom, she sat down at her desk and computer (the one not for producing horny content) and opened up her email, stroking Derpy as he sat on her lap.

One of her most recent babysitting clients gave her the heads up that they had passed her contact info onto a friend of a coworker’s friend or something and that she might hear something within the next day or two. While she really didn’t need to babysit anymore to make ends meet, Zoey did have fun with it. Coming from a big family with lots of siblings may have played a part in that and she genuinely loved taking care of the kids and teaching them new and fun things. There had to be at least fifty kids in Seoul who referred to her as “Auntie Zo”.

At the very top of her inbox, Zoey spotted what looked to be the email in question. She clicked on it, squinting at the sender and rereading the name a few times to be sure she wasn’t mistaken.

“A Sunlight Entertainment email? Like … the label from the Sunlight Sisters?” she muttered to herself, scrolling down to read.

Dear Zoey Lee,

Hello! My name is Bobby Cho and I am contacting you on behalf of my employer. We have been trying to find a qualified sitter/nanny for her five year old daughter for a while and have had no luck in finding a good match. Your name came up as highly recommended by an associate and I am reaching out to see if you might be interested.

While my associate vouched for your discretion with more prominent families, I feel the need to stress that my employer treasures her privacy more than anything, as goes for her daughter. We would like to use your services once as a trial run to see if you would be a good fit for her daughter and if all goes well, we can negotiate a more formal agreement.

My employers name is Ryu Rumi and we are hoping you can take care of her daughter this Wednesday from 9am to 2pm while Ms. Ryu attends an in office meeting.

Please reach out to me so we can discuss more details. My number is XX-XXXX-XXX

Bobby Cho

Personal Assistant, Sunlight Entertainment

Zoey read the email again, then for a third time, wondering if she lost the ability to properly read Korean all of the sudden. She had to be reading the name wrong. Ryu Rumi? The former queen of pop and daughter of the late Ryu Mi-yeong? Zoey had listened to countless songs of Rumi’s during her middle and high school years, something that came as no surprise since she grew up listening to the Sunlight Sisters constantly.

The details of Rumi’s retirement had been hazy, though tabloids had countless takes on the situation. Zoey remembered Rumi stepping back from the spotlight, her sudden elopement to another K-pop star causing a massive uproar. The next thing people knew, there was some sort of accident in which Rumi survived and her husband didn’t, and that about a year later, Rumi was spotted in public, dressed in baggy clothing with sunglasses and a thick scarf and an infant on her hip.

Doing the math, the first grainy photo that was plastered across every tabloid had popped up around five years ago, meaning that this email was probably legit and no, Zoey did not misread that a former pop superstar wanted to hire her as a sitter.

Between this and the big dinner meeting, Zoey was at a loss for how she ended up in a situation like this. It just seemed so unreal, like she was in a bubble that would pop any second. Nervously biting at her lower lip, she mulled over the possibilities.

While she wanted to fangirl over the Ryu Rumi hiring her, she knew she needed to rein her excitement in. Rumi wasn’t a popstar. She was a mother who, from what little was publicly known, went through hell and now had a child she needed to protect. This wasn’t some chance to meet her idol, this was for a child who needed someone to care for her.

Squaring her shoulders and taking a deep breath, Zoey fished her phone out of her pocket and dialed Bobby’s number.

Chapter Text

Zoey was trying valiantly not to appear awkward, squirming nervously in the far too fancy seat in the far too fancy private room in a restaurant she would have never set foot in had it not been for this meeting. She wasn’t dressed out of place. Her camming income made sure of that. The Zoey from two years ago would have balked at the price tag of the dress she was wearing. It wasn’t even designer, but it was still a lot.

Getting ready overall took way too long. She was surprised she didn’t scrub her skin right off with how many times she redid her makeup. At first she started doing a bold and sparkly eyeshadow, before realizing it might be too much. Then she did something natural and dewy and thought it made her look like an awkward teenager. In the end, she went with something in the middle, just a little subtle shimmer to make her eyes and cheekbones pop. She had also put on lipstick but it was probably long gone from her nervously chewing on her lip.

The wait staff had shown her to the private room, handing her a menu and a wine list she was too scared to look at. Instead she just sipped at her water, trying to forget how dumb she probably looked when the server asked if she wanted “sparkling or stilled” and she had no fucking clue what that mean.

Zoey has now learned the hard way that sparkling water is absolute ass.

Theoretically she could admit her stupidity and order “stilled” aka regular fucking water because she highly doubted this restaurant had Mountain Dew or Fanta but the thought of hailing the server made her want to throw up a little bit.

“You must be Zoey Lee.”

Zoey must have been more in her head than she thought because she practically leaped out of her seat with a halting screech. She nearly snapped her spine with how quickly she dropped into a bow, hoping the startling just looked like she was really enthusiastic about introducing herself politely.

“Yes! I’m Zoey Lee.” she said. She straightened up, keeping her anxiety on a short leash. “It’s nice to meet … you …” she trailed off as she finally saw her illusive commissioner, feeling like her gayness was punching her repeatedly in the brain.

When she imagined the commissioner, she knew it was a woman or at least, that’s what her name implied. Given the venue of the meeting and the amount of money this person was willing to spend, Zoey expected someone older. Maybe an ajumma with a pleasant smile in a modest Chanel pantsuit or a cutthroat looking business woman with perfectly coiffed hair a face built entirely of sharp angles.

What she didn’t expect was a fucking supermodel.

“Nice to meet you, too. Shall we sit?” the woman - Mira - gestured towards the table set with crystal glasses and polished silver, somehow making a simple hand gesture ooze cool confidence. Zoey attempted to say yes and sit like a normal human being who knew how to function around pretty women, but only managed an awkward squeak and a clumsy shuffle back to her chair. She sat herself down hard enough for her teeth to grind together.

“I hope I didn’t keep you waiting too long,” Mira said, shrugging off her leather jacket and draping it over the back of her chair in one smooth, effortless motion. She sat down much more elegantly than Zoey did, crossing one looooong leg over the other. “I usually show up to events at least a half hour late.”

“Oh, uh. Yeah. I mean no.” Zoey said, trying to look at Mira and not gawk. “No, I wasn’t waiting long. I wouldn’t have minded if you were late either! I’m just glad you wanted to meet.” She cleared her throat, pausing to take a sip of the (frankly dogshit) sparkling water she had mistakenly ordered. “So, are you like … a collector?”

“Kind of.” Mira flipped her hair over one shoulder and Zoey swore the entire room suddenly smelled like roses. “I’m really just a nepo baby with a hobby.”

“Oh, I thought you were a supermodel or something.” Mira arched one elegant eyebrow, giving Zoey a bit of a cheeky smile.

“Oh? And why is that?”

“Oh! Well,” Zoey stuttered, feeling her face heat up. “You seem, uh, very aesthetically pleasing! Very symmetrical and pretty!”

Zoey wanted to curl up and die. All she had to do was be composed, discuss prices, and convince some random rich person that she was worth paying for a custom painting. What she was actually doing was having a full blown gay meltdown in a restaurant that catered to people so painfully out of her tax bracket. Mira seemed to take it in stride, giving a husky laugh that did things to Zoey’s lower half.

“I’m glad you think so, considering I’m looking to get a portrait done.” Mira said, not even looking as a server entered with a bottle of wine and two glasses. The wine was a dark, rich red that Zoey knew probably cost a few months rent. Mira took her glass, taking a sip and making a pleased noise. Zoey tried to do the same but quickly learned one new thing about herself.

She hated red wine.

She honest to god sputtered, heading rearing back as if she had been punched. Her free hand shot to the glass of sparkling water, chugging half of it to wash the taste out of her mouth as quickly as possible. As much as she wanted to be polite, that shit was gross.

“I see you’re not a fan.”

That’s it. I’m done. I’m fucking cooked. Zoey thought, shakily putting the glasses on the table and feeling the back of her neck burn from the embarrassment. I’m never going to be a real artist ever.

“I am so, so sorry!” Zoey bowed her head, trying to hide her neon red face. “I don’t mean to be rude!”

Mira leaned in close, tilting her head to get a better look at Zoey. “You wanna know a secret?”

“... Yes?” Zoey peeked up just a bit, not knowing what to expect. Her current prediction was outraged ranting, promises to blackball her from the entire industry, or some curse on her entire family line.

“I hate it, too.”

Zoey’s head shot back up, her face portraying every bit of confusion absolutely demolishing her brain.

“Yeah, no. It tastes like ass.” Mira continued, setting her glass down and wrinkling her nose at it. Zoey cocked her head, brows pinched together.

“Then why did you order it?”

“To impress you.” Mira stated bluntly. Zoey was somehow even more confused. It must have been obvious enough for Mira to feel the need to elaborate. “Look, I really like your stuff. I’m trying to make sure you don’t get snapped up by someone else before I can shoot my shot. That's why I made this meeting so quickly after I got back to Seoul.”

“Wow. Uh. Okay.” Zoey was dumbfounded. She had an actual goddess in front of her admitting that she was the one being wooed. It just seemed so backwards and incorrect that she was at a total loss of what to say. Her mouth just kept opening and closing, trying to find the words. A little crack appeared in Mira’s facade, a bit of a bashful look on her face as she shifted in her seat.

It made this meeting seem a little more human, less like the upper class business meeting Zoey had been psyching herself up over. She looked down at the table, at the crystal glasses, gold leafed fine china, and an overzealous amount of spoons and forks. The entire thing was just … stuffy.

Most unknown artists would kill for a meeting like this. It meant that they made it, that someone high up thought they were worth something. It wasn’t her, though. Taking a deep breath, she pushed the glass of sparkling water away.

“How about we go somewhere else?” Zoey eventually said, twisting one of her rings on her finger. “I don’t really like … stuff like this.”

Mira perked up, head tilted in interest. “Do you have anywhere in mind?”

Zoey nodded. “I think there’s a ramyeon stand a few blocks down? It’s a little more … lowkey than all of this.” she gestured to the gold plated everything around them. Mira blinked in surprise and after a moment, all the tension melted away.

“Thank fuck. I love ramyeon.” Mira stood, grabbing her jacket. A smile spread across Zoey’s face, eagerly hopping up to follow after Mira’s long strides. “I’m getting mine spicy as fuck. You?”

“As much beef as they are willing to give me.”

“Fuck yeah.”

***

Rumi was trying desperately not to pace too much, flitting about the house making sure everything was neat and perfect. She had to keep herself under control because if she was too anxious, Mi-Jin would start getting too anxious. Right now Rumi had her daughter in a sweet spot of rested and distracted, sitting at the coffee table doodling with crayons while Bluey played in the background.

Every tick of the wall clock felt like a slamming hammer on her ear drums, to the point where she sneakily took it off the wall and popped the batteries out, pocketing them to put back later. She had no idea how she got this nervous every time Mira came to visit. Every time, there was always a voice in the back of her head hissing in her ear about how Mira would eventually get tired of her baggage, tired of waiting around for her to figure her shit out, that this would be the visit where a sleeve rode out too much and Mira would be disgusted by the scars that twisted across her entire body.

Suddenly, Rumi’s phone buzzed in her pocket, chiming with the notification that alerted her to the front gates. She opened up the video feed, seeing Mira looking devastatingly confident in the grainy security camera feed, perched atop a motorcycle with her helmet tucked under one arm. Trying to keep her hands from shaking, Rumi pressed the button to speak through the gate’s intercom.

“Why are you buzzing in? You could have just entered the gate code.”

“I didn’t know if you might have changed it.” Mira said with a shrug, her voice tinny through Rumi’s phone speaker. “Still 226, right?”

“Yep.”

“Okay, cool. I’ll see you in a sec.”

Closing the video feed, Rumi slipped her phone back in her pocket and tried to wipe her sweaty palms on her jeans. She looked over at Mi-Jin, who was very intently trying to draw her beloved blue tiger plushy. “Hey, Mimi?”

Mi-Jin perked up, setting her blue crayon to the side with great care. “Yeah?”

“Auntie Mira is almost here.” Mi-Jin immediately jumped to her feet, eyes full of excitement. She began bouncing in place, her pigtails bobbing.

“Really? When? Is she gonna eat dinner with us? When is she gonna be here?” Her daughter’s enthusiasm stamped down the anxiety, a small smile growing on Rumi’s face. Even if life seemed too much and the days dragged on dark and dreary, seeing Mi-Jin happy would never not make Rumi feel like her heart was about to burst.

A knock sounded on the front door, Rumi’s smile growing wider. “I think that’s her. Want to let her in?”

“Yes, yes, yes!” Mi-Jin bolted towards the front door, her little kid hands scrambling to unlock the deadbolt and drag the door open to reveal Mira, idly checking her nails with her helmet still tucked under her arm. Mi-Jin lit up, jumping up and down. “Big Mimi!”

Attention drawn downwards, Mira saw Mi-Jin and had a huge smile on her face. She crouched down, setting her helmet on the porch to scoop up Mi-Jin and hold her tight. “Little Mimi! I missed you so much!” With a heave, Mira lifted Mi-Jin onto her hip and stood, haphazardly kicking her helmet over the threshold so Rumi could shut the door behind them. Mira walked towards the living room, plopping onto the couch with Mi-Jin in her lap.

“Hey! What the heck, little Mimi,” Mira said, looking down at her with mock offense. “I distinctly remember telling you that you weren’t allowed to grow anymore when I last visited!”

Mi-Jin gave a huff, crossing her arms and turning her nose up. “You can’t stop me! Soon, I’ll be Big Mimi.”

“Is that right?” Mi-Jin nodded fervently. Mira let out a laugh, giving her nose an affectionate squeeze that caused her to giggle. “Well, you got a long ways to go, cutie.”

Eyes full of affection, Rumi watched as Mi-Jin began talking Mira’s ear off, telling her about anything and everything she could think of. Mira listened with undivided attention, nodding along and adding exaggerated commentary.

When Rumi met Mira, she would have never clocked her as someone who had any interest in being around kids. The first time Mira met Mi-Jin had been a bit awkward, mostly because Mi-Jin had been barely two years old and an absolute terror, loud and messy and all things Mira had never grown up around. Now, whenever Rumi brought up Mira liking kids, she would answer, “I like your kid.” and leave it at that.

Taking advantage of the distraction, Rumi ducked into the kitchen, taking out the lasagna she had been struggling to make for hours . Since she and Mi-Jin never really went out to eat due to the risk of having a photo sneakily taken of them, Rumi tried to make Mi-Jin all kinds of food. Thus far, Mexican food was her least favorite and Thai food was in the number one spot. Pleased to see her dinner wasn’t a charred mess, grabbed plates down from the cupboards, calling out towards the living room.

“Mimi, why don’t you and Auntie Mira go ahead and wash up for dinner?” Mi-Jin’s chattering came to a halt, replying back with an “okay, Eomma!”. Rumi heard two pairs of feet putter away towards the downstairs bathroom and the chatting continued again.

Setting the table for three, Rumi caught a glimpse of something on an end table. She approached it like she would a scared animal, picking up the small picture frame and feeling her heart ache. Staring back at her was Jinu, frozen in time as he laughed at some random thing out of frame, snow dusting his hair. They had taken a trip to London as a rushed Honeymoon, both of them unused to how frigid it got during the winter.

Swallowing a lump in her throat, Rumi opened the end table drawer, slipping in the picture frame gently face down. She shut the drawer, hearing Mi-Jin and Mira coming out of the bathroom with smiles on their faces. Stamping down the pain, Rumi smiled back.

***

Mi-Jin had been so animated and excited from the second that Mira walked in the door that it was no surprise she began nodding off around 7pm. She fought to stay away, to continue talking and playing with her Auntie Mira, but couldn’t hold out forever. Deciding that going without a bath for one night wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world, Rumi carried her up to bed and managed to get her in her pajamas, kissing her goodnight before slipping back downstairs. Mira was already lounging on the couch, nursing the glass of wine Rumi had handed her near the tail end of dinner.

“She’s out like a light.” Rumi said, sitting down next to Mira, close enough for their knees to knock together. Mira set her glass down, twisting to face Rumi.

“You doing alright?” Rumi tried to give a smile that didn’t look like a grimace and nodded.

“Just tired. Not the sleepy kind. Mental tired.” Mira gave her a sympathetic look, opening her arms out and nodding. Rumi didn’t hesitate to cuddle in, tucking her face in Mira’s neck and letting out a heavy sigh.

“New sitter tomorrow, yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“You think this one is gonna work out?”

“Honestly, I don’t know anymore.” Rumi muttered, letting her eyes slip closed and the scent of Mira’s rosy conditioner wash over her. “Bobby apparently took a huge leap of faith on this next one. He swears up and down that this could be the one. Again.”

“You’ll find someone.” Mira said, pressing a kiss to the top of Rumi’s head and stroking her back as she held her close. “Watch. This one is the one. I just know it.”

“Really?” Rumi laughed. “You seem so certain. Wanna bet?” Rumi sat up, one leg tucked under her and the other on the ground, nudging Mira’s foot. “If I win, you have to buy Mi-Jin that enormous version of her tiger plushy she’s been hounding me about.”

“You sure you want to do this?” Mira said, eyes narrowed and a sly grin spreading across her face. Rumi nodded with her own smarmy grin. “Fine. If I win, you have to use your brand spanking new sitter to watch Mi-Jin while I take you out on a date.” she jabbed her finger against Rumi’s chest, grinning wider as Rumi’s smile faltered. “A real date.”

Rumi’s heart stuttered in her chest, feeling her face begin to warm. Her hand absentmindedly came up to touch her cheek, where she knew a stripe of scarring cut across it, carefully covered with makeup. While makeup couldn’t hide the texture, it at least made the scars less obvious. Mira sensed her apprehension, eyes softening.

“I just want to be with you, Rumi. In any way you’ll have me.” Mira said, pulling Rumi’s hand away from her face and lacing their fingers together. “I want you to be happy. Mi-Jin, too. Especially Mi-Jin, because I know she makes you the happiest.”

“I know, I know,” Rumi’s shoulders sagged, staring down at their intertwined hands. “I want to, too. I’m just …” she trailed off, squeezing her eyes shut. “I’m damaged goods, Mira. You have your whole life ahead of you and the entire world at your disposal.”

“I’ve been seeing that world for ages. You are what I want to see.” Mira lifted their hands up, pressing a kiss to the back of Rumi’s. “You know I love you. Every piece, every jagged edge.”

Rumi gave a little snort, shaking her head. “There are a lot of those.”

“And they look beautiful on you.”

Breath hitching, Rumi felt her eyes begin to burn. That lump in her throat was back and she fought to swallow it down again. Eventually, she let out a shaky sigh and nodded.

“... Okay. If the sitter works out, I’ll go on a date with you.” Mira beamed, drawing Rumi into a tight hug that pulled another laugh from her. “ If! It could still turn out horribly.”

“Still. I’ll take what chances I can get.” Mira murmured against Rumi’s temple, pressing a warm kiss where she could see the texture of a scar curl downwards. “I love you so much, Rumi.”

“I love you, too.”

They stayed tangled up in each other, all the words that needed to be spoken having been heard. Mira continued pressing kisses to Rumi’s face, travelling down from her temple, to her cheek, and her jaw. Rumi let out a pleased sigh, tilting her head to let Mira kiss the skin right about the high neck of her sweater.

It wasn’t unusual for them to get a little affectionate during Mira’s visits. They’d definitely kissed a few times, but that was about it. They never had sex, not when Rumi curled in on herself whenever Mira’s hand got too close to a hem. Mira was always respectful about it, softly apologizing and moving her hands away at the first sign of a tensing muscle.

Something akin to hope blossomed in Rumi’s chest, heart fluttering like a lovesick teenager. For once, the voices in the back of her mind weren’t growling about her insecurities, her regrets. Something gentler sounding was instead chanting and singing about Mira, about the potential date, about how much she ached for the new sitter to work out so she could make Mira happy.

Rumi drew Mira away from her neck, tilting her head to press their lips together. It was feather soft, always tentative as if Mira didn’t meet her with enthusiasm every time. She could feel Mira wrap her arms around her waist, drawing her in, making her feel safe and warm. The air had a new energy crackling through it, one that had Rumi kissing deeper, pressing her weight on Mira until Mira had to lay back against the arm of the couch. When Rumi moved to swing her leg over Mira’s lap, Mira pulled back, looking up at her.

“Rumi, baby. Are you sure?” she asked, eyes so achingly adoring and lipstick smudged. Rumi could taste the wax on her lips.

Nodding, Rumi guided Mira’s hands to her waist, safely away from the hem of her baggy sweater. “Yeah. I’m sure. Just kissing, though. Okay?”

“More than okay with me.” Mira tangled her hand in Rumi’s hair, unravelling the braid and bringing their lips together again. They resumed a slow dance of kissing, tasting each other’s tongues and whining softly between breaths. Rumi had no idea how much time was passing, not when the clock was still missing its batteries and Mira felt like home.

The only thing that finally broke them apart was the chiming of Rumi’s phone, causing them to stare at the device with offended looks. Mira, being the one with the larger wingspan, reached over to grab it without moving Rumi from her lap.

“What’s it say?” Rumi asked, worried it might be from Bobby or Celine. Mira peeked at the screen, one eyebrow lifting.

“It’s an alarm.” She answered, confusion tinging her voice. “It just says ‘SunneeZee 15 minutes’” She looked away from the screen, up at Rumi. “What in the world is SunneeZee?”

Suddenly, Rumi’s face was ablaze, cold sweat prickling at the back of her neck. She snatched the phone, silencing the alarm. “It’s, uh,” she stammered, trying desperately to come up with any plausible explanation. “I just - it’s, y’know. A show I really like.”

Not really a lie. But definitely not the entire truth.

“Oh, what channel is it on? We can watch it together.” Mira said, already reaching for the tv remote. Panicking, Rumi batted her hand away, leaving Mira absolutely bewildered. “Seriously, what’s wrong? It can’t possibly be that bad to have you freaking out like this.”

Again, Rumi’s mind scrambled to come up with something. She honestly felt like crying from mortification and the idea of lying to Mira made her feel like bile was rising in her throat. Shuffling back and off of Mira’s lap, she buried her face in her hands, resigning herself to her fate.

“It’s super embarrassing. You’re not allowed to laugh.” She said, muffled and trembling. Mira sat up, face awash with concern.

“Baby, you can tell me anything. I won’t judge you.” Mira paused, thinking for a moment. “Unless its, like, eating puppies or something. Then we’re definitely going to need to have a longer conversation.”

“No, no. Nothing like that.” Taking a deep breath, Rumi closed her eyes, shoulders drawn up to her ears. “... it’s an adult livestream.”

Mira’s brows furrowed, head cocking. “Adult? What does that even mean?”

“SunneeZee, she’s a, uh,” Rumi made a vague gesture with her hands. “She’s this person who … uh, does adult things on camera.”

The silence was deafening .

“... Rumi.”

Rumi glanced up at Mira from between her fingers. “Yes?”

“Are you trying to tell me you follow a camgirl?”

“... Yes.”

“To the point in which you have an alarm on your phone for her streams.”

“Yes.”

Mira was silent again, an unreadable expression on her face. The anticipation was killing Rumi. She eventually dropped her hands with a whine.

“Can you just say something so I don’t explode?”

“Can’t.” Mira said, voice sounding tense. “I am trying desperately not to laugh.”

“ Mira!” Rumi shrieked, grabbing a throw pillow and chucking it at her. Mira’s composure broke and she doubled, laughing with her whole chest while she dodged Rumi’s swatting hands. “Stop laughing. I have needs!”

“You could’ve called me anytime, babygirl.” Rumi felt like steam was about to come out of her ears, running out of soft things to throw at her. Mira eventually caught Rumi’s hands, halting the assault and looking at her with a warm smile. “Rumi. Honey. Darling. Love of my life.” Rumi felt herself flushing even more “I don’t care that you watch horny livestreams. I’m just glad you’re getting some sort of release. God knows you need it.”

“Hey!”

“Baby, you could’ve told me you were having orgies and one night stands and I wouldn’t care.” Mira let go of Rumi’s hands, instead reaching out to cup Rumi’s burning cheeks. “I told you, however you’ll have me, you have me. Even if you somehow found your precious SunneeZee and like, married her or something, I’d still want to be with you.”

“I’m not running off to marry some camgirl, Mira.” Rumi deadpanned, crossing her arms. “In what world would I possibly meet this woman? I highly doubt ‘SunneeZee’ is her actual name.”

“Still, I wouldn’t mind.” Mira leaned forward and gave Rumi a kiss that she begrudgingly accepted. A mischievous grin stretched across Mira’s lips. “Wanna watch it together?”

“Absolutely not!”

“At least send me the link.”

“Mira, no. ”

Chapter Text

“The new sitter should be here any minute now. Are you almost ready?” Bobby asked, keeping his voice low so Mi-Jin wouldn’t hear from where she was eating her breakfast at the kitchen table. Rumi was scrutinizing her reflection in a hallway mirror, painstakingly dabbing more concealer around her facial scars. She had gotten dressed and made up for a day at the office, even though she fully expected to have to rush back within twenty minutes to comfort a hysterical Mi-Jin.

“If I’m ready isn’t the problem.” Rumi muttered, closing her compact and slipping it into her purse. Bobby shot her a withering look, knowing full well this was a huge step for Rumi as much as it was for Mi-Jin. “You said she wasn’t from an agency?”

“Yeah, well, we tried those.” Bobby was tapping away at his phone, constantly checking his emails and texts for anything Rumi might need. He really was the best assistant she could have gotten. “I honestly don’t think there are any left in all of Korea for us to try. So yeah. Leap of faith.”

“Leap of faith.” Rumi repeated with a sigh. Her phone buzzed from its spot on the coffee table, the notification that someone was at the front gate. “Go ahead and let her in. I’m going to talk with Mi-Jin really quickly.” Bobby made an affirmative noise, fiddling with Rumi’s phone as she strolled over to the kitchen table. Sitting down next to Mi-Jin, she pulled her attention from her half-eaten eggs.

“Hey, Mimi. Can eomma talk to you for a second?” Mi-Jin made an affirmative nose, looking up from her plate. Her large, brown eyes took in Rumi’s clothes and makeup, her shoulders sagging.

“You’re leaving? Again?” she asked, voice small. Rumi tried not to pay attention to her heart shattering into a million pieces. She reached out to smooth down Mi-Jin’s hair, still tousled with sleep and not yet in her signature pigtails.

“Just for a little bit. I’m going to work with Auntie Celine.” Rumi said with a nod. Mi-Jin’s lip was already quivering. Rumi scooted her chair closer, gathering Mi-Jin in her arms. “Mi-Jin. Honey. I will come back. I will always come back.” Mi-Jin looked unconvinced, her eyes beginning to water. Holding her tight, Rumi pressed kisses atop her head. “How about this? We meet the sitter first and if she seems nice and you are good while I’m gone, I’ll bring you back some cheesecake.”

Going eerily still, Mi-Jin was clearly interested. “... Can it be American cheesecake?”

Rumi let out a laugh. “Yes, honey. It can be American cheesecake.”

“... Okay.”

One hurdle passed, Rumi let the tension fall from her shoulders a bit. While the promise had Mi-Jin calm for now, there was no guarantee she wouldn’t lose it as soon as Rumi stepped out of the door. Bribery only worked so well.

There was a knock on the door, Bobby slipping both his and Rumi’s phone in his pockets as he approached. “This should be her.”

Nodding, Rumi stood, holding her hand out for Mi-Jin. “C’mon Mimi. Let’s go meet Miss Zoey.”

Face skeptical, Mi-Jin took her hand and followed. Rumi kept strong and composed, wanting to set an example for her daughter despite how riddled with nerves she was. Bobby looked back and Rumi gave a nod, taking a deep breath as he turned the doorknob and swung open the front door.

“Hi, you must be Zoey Lee!” Bobby welcomed cheerfully, taking a step back to let their new arrival in.

“Yep! That’s me!” Excited eyes and a cheery voice greeted Rumi, her entire world imploding, shattering, and bursting into flames at the same time. Her hand went limp, dropping Mi-Jin’s much to her daughter’s offense.

“Eomma? What’s wrong?” Mi-Jin questioned, reaching up to grab at Rumi’s pant leg and give her a hard nudge. Rumi didn’t even look down, feeling all of the blood drain from her face as her eyes were firmly locked onto the woman smiling at her.

“Hi! I’m Zoey. It’s so nice to meet you, Miss Ryu.” A small, delicate hand was held out in front of Rumi, waiting to be shook. Rumi’s eyes dropped from the woman’s face – SunneeZee’s face, down to her hand, and back up. The silence was beginning to stretch on a little too long, smiles turning awkward and Bobby shifting nervously from one foot to the other.

She should have said hello. Acted normal. Maybe told Zoey her services were no longer needed and told Bobby better luck next time. Anything, anything but do a full 180, dashing back to the downstairs bathroom and slamming the door shut. She heard Bobby and Mi-Jin’s startled cries behind her as she slammed the door and dropped to her knees in front of the toilet, dry heaving as mortification made her feel like she was about to throw up. Nothing came up, but it must have sounded awful, given how Bobby was right outside the door in an instant.

“Rumi, are you okay? Do I need to call a doctor?” His voice was overrun with concern, though he was making an attempt to be quiet in order to make less of a fuss.

“No, just–I just need a second.” she gasped out, trying desperately to control her breathing. Her mind was being assaulted with the sight of Zoey standing innocently in her doorway and rapidly flipped between salacious memories of countless streams and thousands of dollars donated. Just twelve hours before, she watched intently as SunneeZee spent a good amount of time carefully stretching herself out so she could ride a dildo that looked thicker than her wrist. Rumi paid rapt attention the entire time, clicking the donate button whenever she wasn’t rubbing furiously between her own thighs.

How in the fuck was this actually possible? Out of all the people in Korea, all of the people in the entire fucking world, how is it that the new sitter found was the woman that plagued Rumi’s mind and had her in an aroused chokehold twice every week?

Knees shaking, Rumi stood up, using the sink to haul herself up. She was met with her own reflection, the makeup she applied doing a good job as hiding whatever paleness or redness stained her skin in her panic. There was another knock, Bobby gently calling her name again. Taking a deep, shuddering breath, she opened the door and let Bobby slip inside. He shut it softly behind him, face full of concern.

“Rumi? Is everything okay? You look like you’re about to be sick.”

Shaking her head, Rumi wiped her sweaty palms against her dress pants. “Maybe I’m just too nervous to do this today. Not after the last one went so badly.”

Her voice must have been shaking badly enough for Bobby to abandon any attempts to convince her otherwise, eyes full of unsure sympathy. “...Okay. I’ll just … tell Zoey nevermind, then? We should still pay her for the day, though.”

“Yeah, that would be fair to her.” Rumi said, trying to not think about the sheer amount of money she’s already given to Zoey in the past. Whatever rate Bobby had promised Zoey was likely chump change to what Rumi threw at her whenever her clothes came off. Giving a pitying look and a nod, Bobby held a steadying on Rumi’s back, guiding her out of the bathroom and back into the living room. Rumi was fully prepared to give a 90 degree bow and ten thousand apologies to Zoey, getting her out as quickly as possible so she could crawl into the corner in shame.

What she wasn’t prepared for was Mi-Jin chatting excitedly, sitting on the floor in front of the coffee table and flipping through her dozens of crayon drawings while Zoey listened intently.

“And who is this one?” Zoey asked, pointing to one of the pages. Mi-Jin shoved the other drawings aside, slapping that one in particular dead center on the table.

“This is Sussie! He is the tiger’s best friend even though he keeps stealing the tiger's hat!” she explained, in that obvious way children did when they were talking about something outlandish. Zoey gave an interested hum, picking up one of the many blue tiger drawings.

“And what’s the tiger’s name?”

“Oh, um.” Mi-Jin paused, squinting at the drawing. “I don’t know yet. He’s my bestest friend ever so naming him is super hard.” She perked up, hopping to her feet. “Oh! Let me grab him!”

As fast as her little legs could carry her, Mi-Jin raced upstairs, past Rumi without giving her a single glance. Rumi should have told her not to run up the stairs, but she was too flabbergasted at how invested Mi-Jin was with Zoey in mere minutes.

Zoey, noticing Rumi’s shocked expression, gave a sheepish laugh. “She noticed I had a paint stain on my pants and I told her I like to paint and draw. Before I knew it, she was pulling out all of her drawings.” Standing to her feet, she approached Rumi again. Sure enough, there was a bright yellow paint stain on the thigh of her jeans. Rumi had seen her naked so many times that seeing SunneeZee wearing jeans felt wrong.

“I hope you’re feeling okay. I’m Zoey Lee. Bobby said you needed someone to watch Mi-Jin?” Zoey introduced herself again, holding out her hand. Almost robotically, Rumi grabbed and shook it, trying not to combust at how soft Zoey’s hand was. She had spent countless nights thinking about how soft all of SunneeZee looked, and now SunneeZee was in front of her to babysit her daughter of all fucking things.

“Rumi Ryu.” Rumi introduced herself, as if it wasn’t probably obvious. When the handshake was done, she hugged her arms around herself, trying to appear like a normal functioning adult and interact with Zoey as if she wasn’t extremely familiar with what Zoey’s tits looked like. “You can just call me Rumi, though.”

“Miss Rumi?” Feeling her face burn, Rumi shook her head.

“Just Rumi.”

“Sounds good!” Zoey said with a smile. She was so bubbly that Rumi swore she felt the fizzles in her chest. “Bobby gave me a detailed list of everything I need to know, but I was wondering if you had anything to add?”

“Uh, no.” Rumi shook her head, ignoring the dizzying feeling. At least she didn’t feel like throwing up anymore. “Bobby probably remembers more than I do. Everything he’s told you should be fine.”

Brows furrowed, Bobby looked between the two, clearly confused. “Soooo, we’re going in today?”

Before Rumi could answer, Mi-Jin was clambering down the stairs, her tiger plush tucked under one arm and calling out excitedly. “Miss Zoey! Miss Zoey! Here he is!” She held the plush up proudly, catching Zoey’s attention. Zoey was immediately crouching down and giving Mi-Jin her full attention.

“Wow! He looks so pretty. May I?” Zoey asked, holding her hands out towards the plush. After a moment of consideration, Mi-Jin lowered the tiger into Zoey’s grasp. Rumi felt like she was about to be knocked clean off of her feet, actually staggering back a step.

Nobody was allowed to touch the tiger plushie. Mi-Jin barely ever let her touch it and now it was being handed off with ease to someone Mi-Jin just met.

“His face is super cute! It’s all flat and funny like my kitty back home. His name is Derpy.” Zoey said, appraising the plushie. She handed it back to Mi-Jin with the utmost care, having her hand taken in Mi-Jin’s and being dragged back towards the coffee table covered in drawings. Zoey shot an apologetic smile back at Rumi and Rumi had to pretend that it didn’t do devastating things to her heart.

“... Are we going in today?” Bobby asked again, voice tentative. Lips drawn thin, Rumi nodded, causing Bobby’s face to light up.

“I’ll pull the car around. See you out front!” Bobby practically skipped out of the door, twirling the car keys around his finger. Letting out a slow exhale, Rumi approached Zoey and Mi-Jin, bending down to plant a kiss atop Mi-Jin’s head.

“You gonna be good while I got to work, sweetie?”

Mi-Jin just said an absent “uh huh”, paying Rumi no mind as she dumped out her crayons across the table. Rumi tried not to feel a little offended.

“Okay, then. I’ll be back later. Tell uh, Miss Zoey if you need anything, okay?” Another absent noise of affirmation. Awkwardly, shuffling away, Rumi grabbed her purse, looking back at least half a dozen times to see if Mi-Jin was okay. Zoey must have noticed, nudging Mi-Jin.

“Say goodbye to Eomma, Mi-JIn!” Zoey said and Rumi had to actively try not to grimace. Mi-Jin looked up from her collection of crayons, calling out a quick “bye bye, Eomma!”

Feet feeling heavy, Rumi stepped out of the house, the sound of the door shutting behind her seemingly reverberating through her bones. She forced one foot in front of the other, towards the car Bobby was ready and waiting in. Trying to keep her cool, she kept chanting in her head.

I do not have a mommy kink. I do not have a mommy kink. I, for the love of god, do not have a mommy kink.

***

Zoey ended up finishing with watching Mi-Jin rather quickly, given that Rumi had returned at 2pm on the dot. The way Rumi came into the door and immediately b-lined towards Mi-Jin made it clear that she was more relieved than Mi-Jin was. It was kind of adorable, seeing this woman who had the world at her feet and an untouchable reputation go all soft and gooey for her adorable daughter. Zoey wasn’t ashamed to admit to herself that she had a little crush watching Rumi shower her daughter in hugs and kisses.

Back in the popstar days, Rumi was everyone’s type, ruling the top of popularity polls year after year. She had a body built like grace incarnate and moved across the stage with power and confidence. Zoey remembered just how bad Rumi had been for her little gay heart when she was in high school. She was flawless skin, flawless hair, lean body, and a stunning face with a voice that brought the heavens to its knees.

Somehow the Rumi Zoey saw before her was even better .

Her body was a little different, given the changes age and motherhood had likely bestowed on her. She showed barely any skin, just everything above her high collar and her hands. Her hair was long, but much shorter than her performing days, the end of her braid only dangling between her shoulderblades. This Rumi was softer and warmer, and one term easily came to mind for Zoey.

MILF.

If Zoey was doing the math correctly, Rumi would be 32? 33? Either way she looked good . She absolutely aged like fine wine in Zoey’s expert opinion. She would happily replace her old Rumi posters with ones of the Rumi she sees now.

Control yourself, Zoey thought to herself, watching Mi-Jin talk Rumi’s ear off about every little thing they did that day. She stood up, knees protesting from how long she had been sitting on the ground with Mi-Jin. They were at the tail end of a game of CandyLand when Rumi came home. You are a normal person who can babysit a former popstar’s daughter without being thirsty as hell.

“So, did everything go okay?” Zoey asked. Rumi whipped around a little spooked, as if she had forgotten that Zoey was there.

“Uh, y–yeah.” She answered, avoiding her eyes for some reason. Zoey cocked her head, trying to read Rumi’s expressions. Squinting, she noticed something a little off about the texture of Rumi’s skin and how the light hit unevenly across parts of her cheeks and temples. Rumi continued, jolting her out of her thoughts. “You didn’t call. Everything was okay with Mi-Jin?”

“Oh. No, everything was fine. I asked if she wanted to call you at lunch but she just wanted to watch an episode of Caillou.” Zoey answered. This must have been extremely out of character for Mi-Jin, given how Rumi was totally slack jawed.

“Oh. Wow.”

Mi-Jin started squirming in Rumi’s hold, a little frustrated frown on her face. “Are you going to go work with Auntie Celine again?”

“Well, I think Auntie Celine wanted me to work with her on Friday.” Rumi said, nervousness tinging her voice. Mi-Jin gasped, though not in the negative way Rumi might have expected.

“Can Miss Zoey come and play on Friday, too?!” she was jumping up and down, tugging on Rumi’s clothes with bright, wide eyes. Rumi began stammering, at a loss for how to react.

“I mean, maybe? Can she? Uh,” she turned to Zoey. “Can you?”

Trying to keep her smile at bay, Zoey twisted the rings on her fingers. “What times?”

“The same.”

Crouching down to Mi-Jin’s level, Zoey flicked one of her pigtails playfully. “Then it looks like I can.” Mi-Jin let out an overjoyed squeal, running circles around her and Rumi. Zoey stood back up, addressing Rumi. “I’ll talk with Bobby, yeah?”

Zoey could see Rumi’s throat bob, her lips drawing tight for some reason.

“Sounds g–good.” she stammered, nodding jerkily. “We’ll be seeing you Friday, then.”

A little voice in the back of Zoey’s head was already excited. On Friday during the day, she’d get to have fun with Mi-Jin. At night, she would switch over to her other job.

Maybe the little glimpses of what a beautiful woman she worked for would make that a little fun, too.

Chapter Text

With the roar of her motorcycle’s engine cutting off, Mira came to park in front of the modest apartment building. She was dressed casually, in plain designer jeans with her well-loved riding jacket. A duffle bag was slung across her torso, stuffed full of clothes. Stepping up to the front of the building, she took off her helmet and pulled out her phone, opening her texts.

Tucking her phone away, Mira shifted from foot to foot as she waited. Her eyes wandered to the surrounding neighborhood, appraising it. It wasn’t luxury. She had seen plenty of that to know it immediately. But it was nice. She could tell you had to be at least a little well off in order to live in an area like this. Zoey must’ve had a decent client base and it made Mira feel justified in rushing to book her services.

The front entrance to the building swung open, Zoey emerging flush faced and smiling. “Sorry! My cat and I got into an argument and he was winning.” She stepped to the side, holding the door open for Mira. “Wanna go ahead and come inside?”

“Sure.” Mira followed after Zoey, her riding boots squeaking against the shiny, clean floors of the lobby. A quick trip up the elevator and down the hall and Zoey was welcoming Mira into her apartment, the walls covered in vibrant paintings and posters from various bands and singers, American and Korean. It was colorful, chaotic, with dashes of cuteness here and there. It definitely suited Zoey.

Plopping the duffle bag onto the couch, Mira unzipped it and pulled out three bundled up garment bags. “So I brought a few options. I wasn’t sure what you’d want to paint more.” Zoey gave an excited nod, gesturing for Mira to show her. Opening the bags, she pulled out three different dresses of varying styles. One was a long golden gown with a plunging neckline, the second was short and black, and the third option was a more classy scarlet dress with long sleeves. Zoey eyed them critically, stepping forward to pinch the fabric of the gold one between her fingers.

“Oh, does this one have a thigh slit?” she asked, seeing the split from the hem.

“Yeah. Like, up to the hip.”

“That one, then.” She said, giving a resolute nod. “It’ll show off those long leggies of yours. Very sexy.”

Mira let out a laugh, putting the other two dresses away. “Leggies?”

“Yes. Leggies. I said what I said.” Zoey crossed her arms, trying to look authoritative in a positively adorable way. Mira gave another laugh and Zoey pointed down the hallway. “Bathroom is that way for you to change. We’ll be shooting in my studio in the room right next to it.”

“Studio? Fancy.” Mira ducked into said bathroom. She made quick work of changing into the dress and slapping on some matching jewelry. A few swipes of blood red lipstick and Mira looked fit for a gala.

When Zoey mentioned a studio, Mira expected to step into a room with various canvases and maybe an easel or two set up and waiting to be worked on. Stepping inside, she didn’t see a single indicator that Zoey ever used this room for painting or anything art related. There was a bed with nothing but plain white sheets and a surprising amount of lighting equipment, an entire PC setup across from the bed.

“You can just sit on the bed to pose. Whatever you feel like.” Zoey instructed, fiddling with one of two sets of drawers shoved up against the wall. With Mira’s height, she could catch a glimpse of what else was in the drawer Zoey was digging through. It was full of equipment like tripods, video cameras, and even some microphones? Mira just internally shrugged, moving to sit atop the clean sheets.

“Nice setup.” Mira commented, leaning back on her hands and crossing one leg over the other. Zoey let out a sheepish laugh, shutting the drawer with a camera in hand. She began flicking the various lighting apparatuses on, fully in the zone.

“It sure is useful.” she said, a tinge cryptic. Mira cocked her head. Kicking a few of the lights around and occasionally peeking through the camera’s viewfinder, Zoey found what she thought was a satisfactory composition. “Are you used to posing?”

“Not really, no.” Mira answered, falling into some basic poses. She’d never worked as a model, but she at least knew her angles. “Most of the pictures that end up taken of me are candids from events.”

“I should look them up. You certainly are photogenic. I bet you look fire in all of them.” Zoey was hopping around, the camera already snapping a dozen photos by now. Mira moved as Zoey did, adjusting the tilt of her head, shifting her hips, extending her leg. Zoey made a pleased hum with each movement, a flurry of snaps following.

“What can I say? I’m in my napalm era.” Mira said with a light laugh. “That’s why I’m getting this portrait – to celebrate.”

“You mentioned you usually don’t stay in Seoul for very long.”

“Not until now. I was busy running around Europe and Asia, going to shows and galas here and there.”

“Did you ever make any stops in the US?”

“No.”

Zoey made a little pout. “Awh. That’s no fun.”

“You’re from there, yeah?” Zoey nodded. “How’d you end up here?”

An awkward laugh, a slight lull in the rapid shutter sounds. “Consequences of being a child of divorce.” she answered, “I would have much preferred to stay in the US, but I’ve managed well enough.”

“Clearly.” Mira nodded towards the complex studio setup. “Besides, family stuff is always a little annoying.”

“Your family is dumb, treating you like an outcast.” Zoey lowered the camera, gesturing towards all of Mira, lounging on the bed like a lioness at rest. “You’re super cool and gorgeous. Your parents must be boring and stuffy as hell.”

Mira nodded in agreement. “Oh, definitely. I’m apparently gorgeous enough to be mistaken as a supermodel.”

Shooting a heatless glare at Mira, Zoey stuck her tongue out. “Shut up! You know you’re hot. Don’t tease me!”

“But you’re so adorable. How can I not?” Mira shot back. Flirtatious words, but the playful aura was kept intact. This was a portrait meant to be sexy and powerful, not shy and polite. Besides, seeing Rumi had romance plaguing Mira’s brain. Rumi hadn’t said much about how the new babysitter was working out just yet other than that Mi-Jin managed to go an entire day without having a meltdown.

“Let me see how Friday goes.” Rumi had said in their phone call the night before. When Mira took a beat too long to reply, she continued, voice filled with nerves. “I need to be sure. I won’t be able to relax and enjoy spending time with you if I’m not sure.”

Mira had let it go. Rumi was already taking huge steps even just agreeing to the possibility of a single date. Mira wasn’t keen on pushing Mi-Jin too fast either, given that she was the biggest factor.

Sometimes Rumi was like an easily frightened animal, her flight instinct kicking in whenever she got too flustered or nervous. It’s why Mira dropped the SunneeZee thing so quickly, even swearing to not look the camgirl up to spare Rumi the embarrassment of someone knowing too much about her guilty pleasures. The last thing Mira said about it was a cheeky, “You have me now, after all.” before giving Rumi a meltingly sweet kiss.

“Hey, can you send me some of those pictures?” Mira asked suddenly. Zoey had stopped taking photos, staring at the tiny screen and looking over the ones she had already. She looked up, curious.

“Why? They’re not exactly professional.”

“I just have someone I want to send them to. A little teaser, if you will.” It took Zoey a moment, but a wolfish grin spread across her face.

“I will if you provide deets.”

Ah, yes. Mira was so glad she found Zoey. Her personality was a huge plus to an already great deal. Mira got art that she loved right here in Seoul and she got to have a fun time doing it. She’d never laughed so much in meetings with artists like she did when she and Zoey ditched the fancy restaurant to go to a tucked away ramyeon stand. Already she was thinking of Zoey more as a potential friend rather than scouted talent.

She was still absolutely gonna pay Zoey a shitton of money, though. She couldn’t risk someone swooping in with a better offer.

“She’s a longtime friend, but sort of a little more.” Mira explained, already having Zoey’s rapt attention. “She’s been sort of … walled off for a long time, but things are looking up. She promised to go on an actual date with me once her kid is a little better with their sitter.”

“A kid? She has a kid?” Zoey paused, squinting as she thought for a moment. Suddenly, she gasped. “Oh my god, is she a MILF?”

The question had Mira throwing her head back in a full belly laugh. She could feel her cheeks hurt from smiling. Through her laughs (and a few admitted snorts), Mira nodded with great enthusiasm. “Oh, absolutely. She dresses really modestly, but I can see how motherhood has blessed those curves.”

“One of my newest clients is a total MILF.” Zoey said, setting off her camera to the side. Mira made a curious noise, figuring she was talking about another buyer or commissioner. “She’s super pretty and I think I fell in love when I saw her get all soft and gooey with her daughter.”

“Damn. I guess the MILF population in Seoul is pretty high. Lucky us.” Zoey made an affirmative noise, flicking off the studio lights one by one.

“Lucky us.” she repeated, with a blinding smile Mira could already feel herself becoming fond of.

***

The workday was only halfway done for a great deal of people in the office, except for Rumi. The fact that she was in the office at all was a blessing. All day, she had been on edge waiting for a frantic call from Zoey, to find out the first day’s success was just a fluke, but it never came. Instead she just sat in her office and … worked.

Celine had ducked in earlier, as if she couldn’t believe Rumi was there herself. Even in her 30s, Rumi squirmed under Celine’s critical gaze, something she had nearly forgotten after years of shutting herself away with Mi-Jin. Rumi hadn’t really interacted with Celine without Mi-Jin as a buffer … ever, really.

Being in her office felt wrong, like she had travelled back in time. When she had come in a few days prior, even more so. She figured Celine might have told some assistant to get her office ready on her behalf, given how it was pristinely decorated and cleaned. Rumi would have loved to be grateful, but most of the decorations consisted of relics of her past. Instead of seeing large posters of her best glamour shots and album covers and feeling pride, Rumi spent time carefully taking them off of the walls and tucking them away in a corner facing inwards. Of course Celine noticed, but thankfully didn’t say anything about it.

And now, she could finally escape the bare walls and dizzying amount of chatter outside her door and go home to her daughter. The idea filled her with joy, a bright spot in her dreary little existence, but also deep, mortifying dread. Going home to Mi-Jin also meant going home to try and keep her composure in front of Zoey, even if it was for less than ten minutes.

It was Friday, too. One of SuneeZee’s two nights a week that she streamed without fail. The entire day, Rumi’s mind was ripping itself apart, trying to figure out how to go about literally any of this. She couldn’t fire Zoey from being Mi-Jin’s sitter, especially since day number two went swimmingly. There was no way she could continue watching her streams with a clear conscience either, but would not having PurpleTiger226’s constant support put Zoey in a tough spot? And god forbid if Zoey ever, ever found out.

The current solution to alleviate just a little bit of her spiraling was to allow Bobby to offer Zoey a frankly appalling rate. It wouldn’t be the same as the stacks of cash she had been dropping twice a week, but hopefully Zoey was responsible enough with her money that it wouldn’t matter. Bobby said the contract was drafted and ready to be sent to Zoey the second Rumi said so.

Keeping her head low, Rumi left the office, dodging the glances from whoever she passed. Everybody knew who she was, so attention was a given. Depending on how much they knew her made the glances vary. If they knew very little, they saw her as a living legend that stepped back into solitude. If they knew the truth, they saw her as a living ghost, nothing more than an example of how glory can turn to tragedy.

She wasn’t sure which one she preferred. Both had a different kind of hurt.

The one comfort she had was the one person she knew would never look at her like either of those things. Her precious Mi-Jin. No matter how much her scars ached and her heart felt like a gaping wound, she walked into her front door and saw her daughter smile at her like nothing bad had ever happened.

“Hello, my precious Mimi.” Rumi cooed, crouching down to sweep Mi-Jin into a hug. When she pulled back, she noticed a little smudge of white powder on her daughter’s cheek. She rubbed at it with her thumb, recognizing it as flour. “Why do you have flour on you, sweetie?”

“We made cookies.” Zoey’s voice startled Rumi, a response that was apparently going to be the norm. She stood back up, one hand resting atop Mi-Jin’s hair. “I only let her eat one, though.”

“The kitchen had stuff for cookies?” Rumi asked, brows furrowed. She usually had a good mental inventory of what she had stocked in her pantry and fridge and recalled that butter and eggs were definitely on the list of things she needed to restock on.

“Nope! I brought the stuff on my own.” Zoey nodded towards the kitchen, where Rumi could see a reusable shopping bag covered in cartoon turtles next to a plate of chocolate chip cookies.

“My favorite animal? Definitely turtles.” SunneeZee said, answering random questions from the chatroom. The stream had just started, Zee lounging on her bed in a silk robe while she waited for viewers to pile in.

Rumi took a deep breath through her nose, forcing her lips to smile. “Oh, you didn’t have to do that. Make sure you tell Bobby how much all those ingredients cost so he can add it to your reimbursement.” Zoey nodded, returning Rumi’s strained smile with one bright and genuine.

“Eomma, when is Miss Zoey going to come over next?” Mi-Jin spoke up, grabbing Rumi’s pant leg and tugging. The question rang through her head like a death knell, causing her to clench her fist and realize how sweaty her palms were just from standing near Zoey.

“Uh, yes. Well. Mimi?” Mi-Jin made a little noise of interest. “I need to talk to Miss Zoey for a little bit, so do you mind sitting and watching TV in the living room?”

“Oh. Okay.” Releasing Rumi’s pant leg, Mi-Jin scurried over to the couch and crawled onto it, her attention immediately being monopolized by Bluey. Rumi swore there had to be some kind of black magic in that show. It was the sole reason she had the most issues limiting Mi-Jin’s screen time.

Turning back to Zoey, Rumi tried to sound reassuring. “It’s nothing bad. Just hashing out some details. We can sit at the kitchen table.” she gestured for Zoey to go ahead, following close behind. Zoey casually grabbed two cookies from the counter, offering one to Rumi while taking a bite of the other. With a quiet thanks, she took it with great care to avoid any sort of skin contact.

She’d already felt how soft Zoey’s hand was once, when she shook it during her introduction. Her heart couldn’t handle a second time.

“So,” Rumi sat at the table, Zoey doing the same right across from her. “I think Mi-Jin seems to have taken a liking to you which hasn’t happened … ever.”

“Really? She’s such a sweetheart.”

“Trust me. You are the only sitter she’s ever acted like this with.” Rumi said with a chuckle, momentarily forgetting the awkwardness of it all. Clearing her throat, she steeled herself to rip off the bandage and tried not to feel like she was walking to her own execution. “I would like to officially offer to hire you on as Mi-Jin’s sitter. Long term, that is.”

Zoey perked up, expression bright and excited with the smallest bit of cookie crumbs at the corner of her smile. “That would be amazing!”

Warding off the anxiety, Rumi continued. “We’d also like you to keep yourself available as much as possible to watch Mi-Jin, so we’d be willing to pay a retainer when you aren’t actively watching Mi-Jin. That way you don’t take any financial burden if you were to turn down other work.”

“Huh. Okay.” Zoey leaned back in her chair, popping the last bit of cookie in her mouth. “How much would that be?”

“I’ve given Bobby the numbers and blanket permission to negotiate with you. He’ll have a contract written out and you can look it over. You can also borrow the services of one of our attorneys to help explain it, since there will be NDAs involved.

Zoey nodded, brushing the crumbs on her hands onto her jeans. “Bobby will email me then, yeah?”

“Yes. Do you have any other questions?” Zoey shook her head.

“Nope! All sounds good!” Standing up from her seat, she called over to Mi-Jin. “Alright, Mimi! I’ve gotta head out. Hugs?”

“Hugs!” Mi-Jin hopped off of the couch, Bluey forgotten and bounded over to Zoey. She practically leaped into Zoey’s embrace, face scrunching up from how hard she was trying to squeeze her arms. Rumi watched the interaction, a fond smile emerging despite the anxiety tearing apart her stomach.

Wow, she thought, seeing her precious daughter fully enamored with one of the most unfortunate coincidences of her life, I am so unbelievably fucked.

Chapter Text

More and more each day, Mira loved her decision to stay in Seoul long term. With her past visits, she and Rumi had to make the most out of their time and plan a day full of activities that could also be done with Mi-Jin. They never got to just sit down and exist in each other’s company.

But now, here Mira was, standing in Rumi’s room and changing into a borrowed pajamas. She had been coming over for dinner almost every night and this one in particular had Mira lingering a little longer, getting a touch comfier. Sparing one glance towards Mira’s bike helmet, Rumi had leaned on Mira’s shoulder and asked if she wanted to stay the night.

Of course Mira said yes. There was no other correct response. Rumi could tell her that she wanted her to stay so they could help each other file fucking taxes and Mira would be overjoyed. Giving Mira the sweetest peck, she had led her upstairs and to her bedroom, fishing out a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt before retreating into the bathroom to change privately.

After she finished changing, she sat down on the edge of the bed and took a deep breath. This was by far the biggest leap Rumi had ever taken with her. This was Rumi being vulnerable , trusting Mira while her ever wary eyes were peacefully shut. She was more than happy to let Rumi set her own pace, but that didn’t mean she was chomping at the bit for every step.

The bathroom door cracked up just an inch, Rumi sounding small and shaky. “So, uh. You’ve seen my face without makeup. Right? So it won’t be new to you.”

“Yes, I have. You sent me a picture of you and Mi-Jin having breakfast in bed last month.”

“Okay. Good.” The door inched further open, Rumi slipping out from behind it. Gone was the expertly applied makeup that evened out the tone of her skin. Now, completely uncovered, Rumi’s scars were obvious stripes of discolored, rough skin curling across her face. She had even changed into a sweater without a high neck, scars of the same type climbing up her throat. There was an awkward lull as she stepped fully into the bedroom, glancing nervously towards Mira.

Jolting, Mira cleared her throat. “I promise I’m not looking at the scars. I’m just distracted by how pretty your face is.” Rumi’s face turned bright red, trying to cover the flush with her hands and groaning.

“You are so corny.”

“You love it. Come here.” Still covering her flushing face, Rumi shuffled forward towards Mira and her waiting arms. Rumi stood between her spread legs as Mira wound her arms around Rumi’s waist, burying her face into the fabric of Rumi’s soft sweater and giving a gentle squeeze. She could feel Rumi’s fingers run through her hair, right where her scalp ached after wearing her pigtails all day.

They stayed like that for a bit, just embracing and running their fingers across the softness of their pajamas. Eventually Rumi let out a sigh, drawing away and giving Mira a chance to use the bathroom to finish getting ready for bed. When Mira emerged, Rumi was already under the covers, scrolling through her phone. She had the bedside lamp on and the ceiling light off, keeping the room dimly lit and cozy. The sound of the bathroom door opening caused her to perk up, setting her phone on the nightstand.

“All good?” She asked. Mira nodded, approaching the empty side of the bed. She gave Rumi a questioning glance as she reached out to touch the duvet, to which Rumi gave a playful huff and roll of her eyes. “Just get in here, silly.”

They had spent every other night with barely an inch between them for the better part of a week, but this still felt new and exciting. Mira had to contain the butterflies in her stomach as she crawled under the duvet, scooching up next to Rumi as she settled down on the pillows. Rumi reached over and flicked off the bedside lamp, laying down and wiggling closer to Mira. Without words or questions, they gravitated to each other. Rumi tucked her face under Mira’s chin, Mira enveloping Rumi in her arms to hold her close.

“You doing okay?” Mira asked, voice whisper soft. She felt rather than heard the huff of Rumi’s laugh against her shoulder.

“Everything we’re doing is okay, Mira.” she said, almost chiding. “This isn’t my first time sharing a bed with someone.”

“I know, I know. I just worry.”

“Worry less. Maybe kiss me instead.” Unable to help herself, Mira let out a single, loud bark of a laugh, prompting Rumi to immediately shush her, not wanting to risk waking Mi-Jin.

“Sorry. I just didn’t expect you to be so feisty.” Mira said, squeezing her arms around Rumi. “I like it.”

“And yet you still haven’t kissed me.”

And how could Mira possibly argue with that?

With just a little bit of shifting, Mira was laid on her side with Rumi pressed against her, their lips meeting in a warm kiss that left her brain feeling like it was made of cotton. She tangled her fingers in Rumi’s hair, enjoying the rare occasion of it being free of its braid. The purple strands fell soft and silky over Rumi’s shoulders, the faint scent of her lavender shampoo filling Mira’s lungs.

When the kisses deepened and their tongues slid against each other, Mira could taste the minty flavor of Rumi’s toothpaste, the exact kind she had borrowed just minutes ago. One hand left Rumi’s hair, sliding across her waist to press at the small of her back, safely away from any hems. A small whimper bubbled out from Rumi’s throat, straight into Mira’s warm mouth. Before Mira could dare pull away to check in, Rumi hitched a leg over her hip, erasing any space left between them. 

“I’m fine. It’s fine. Just – everything stays on.” Rumi murmured, their lips barely pulled apart an inch for her to speak. Mira made an affirmative hum, moving her lips across Rumi’s jaw and leaving wet kisses in their path. When she planted one just under Rumi’s ear, Rumi softly gasped, her hips making an unmistakable grind against Mira’s. She grabbed Mira’s hand, lowering down from her back down to the curve of her rear, encouraging Mira to grope over her pajamas.

“Rumi, baby,” Mira said, her lips running across the curve of a scar up Rumi’s neck and her hand squeezing at her ass appreciatively, “Can I take care of you?” She hitched one knee up between Rumi’s, just shy of a line they’d never crossed.

“Yes. Yes. ” Rumi gasped out. She rolled her hips down in a silent request, Mira answering by lifting her leg the rest of the way, letting Rumi grind firmly against it. An honest, real moan fell from her lips at the first full roll of her hips, Mira’s hand on her ass guiding her.

Mira quickly realized she’d underestimated how pent up Rumi might have been. She knew it was highly unlikely she’d been within anyone since her husband, but she figured nerves might make her quiet and reserved. Once Rumi got that first bit of friction, though, she lit up. She was rutting against Mira’s thigh, the fabric of both of their pajama pants beginning to feel warm and damp where she was pressed down. Her face was tucked into Mira’s neck, gasping and whimpering across her collarbone as she fought to keep her volume down. Meanwhile, Mira was whispering filthy things in her ear, running her teeth and tongue across what little skin Rumi let her see.

“That’s it, baby. Take what you need.” Mira spoke low and warm against Rumi’s skin. A shiver raced up Rumi’s spine as she let out a whine, her hips speeding up in their clumsy grind. Pressing her leg up harder and tightening her grip on Rumi’s rear, she met her frantic rhythm, hearing those moans get higher and breathier as Rumi clawed at Mira’s arms and shoulders.

“ Fuck , Mira,” she gasped out, breath hot against Mira’s neck. Her hips continued moving, a little faster and a little harder. “This is–fuck! This is okay, right?”

Making gentle shushing noises, Mira held the strands of Rumi’s hair a little tighter. The barely there tug against her scalp made Rumi’s grind stutter as she gave a loud, keening whine bordering on too loud. Knowing Rumi was probably close and wanting to help her keep her voice down, Mira pulled her hair again, making Rumi tilt her head up so Mira could muffle her moans with a filthy kiss.

Giving a few more quick grinds, Rumi came against Mira’s thigh, Mira being able to feel the heat even though they were in their pajamas. Muffling Rumi with a kiss ended up being a good idea, too, because Rumi was apparently loud when she came. Even muffled, Mira was still a little worried about Rumi waking Mi-Jin.

“That’s it. Just breathe. I got you.” Mira cooed, petting through Rumi’s loose hair as a soothing balm to her prior tugging. Rumi was shivering through the aftershocks, face buried in Mira’s shoulders as her fingers curled tight into the fabric of Mira’s shirt. Gradually, the tension and trembling in her muscles melted away, the vice grip her thighs had on Mira’s relaxing. Letting out a pathetic groan, she kept her face hidden.

“... I can’t believe I just did that. I am so sorry.” Rumi mumbled. Although Mira couldn’t see her face, she could see the faintest flush travelling up the tips of Rumi’s ears.

“That was like, the hottest thing I’ve ever seen. No apologies necessary.”

Shifting around, Rumi unmounted Mira’s thigh, pulling back to glance up at her in mild concern. “You, uh, didn’t–” she stammered, suddenly extremely bashful for someone who used Mira’s leg as a humping post. Her hand let go of Mira’s shirt, moving towards the waistband on Mira’s pants. “I can, um, take care of you, too.”

Shaking her head lightly, Mira gently moved Rumi’s hand away. “You don’t have to do that.”

“But I want to.”

“Okay. How about we make a deal?” Rumi gave Mira a deadpan look.

“Are you seriously making me putting my hand in your pants a negotiation?”

“Yes, anyway,” Mira continued. “We finish our date on – what date was it?”

“Wednesday night.”

“Yes, Wednesday night. If our date goes well and you’re in the mood afterwards, I’ll spend the night again and you can happily put your hand in my pants as much as you want.”

Huffing, Rumi twisted in Mira’s arms, putting her back towards Mira. “This is so unfair.”

Mira hooked her chin over Rumi’s shoulder, cuddling her close. “Do we have a deal?”

“...Yes.”

“Good. Go to sleep.”

***

Sleep came shockingly easy for Rumi. She had expected to struggle falling asleep with Mira in the same bed as her, given she hadn’t shared a bed with anyone but her daughter in six years. Having a full grown adult holding her from behind was much different than a fidgety five year old who had a habit of kneeing her in the stomach.

Motherhood had long since installed a natural alarm clock in her head, waking up at 6am without fail every morning, no matter how little she slept the night before. She awoke warm and comfortable, still spooning against Mira as the faintest glow of orange touched the horizon outside her bedroom window. Her hands idly trailed to where Mira’s arm was locked across her waist, just feeling Mira’s soft skin.

“G’morning.” A drowsy voice sounded directly in Rumi’s ear, causing her to jolt.

“Why in the world are you awake?”

“We went to bed at like, 9:30 babe. I haven’t gone to bed that early since I was twelve.”

“Yeah, well. I’m not some crazy powerhouse popstar anymore. I’m old, Mira.”

“You’re not old. ”

“I have a child. I’m a tired, old mom.”

“A tired, hot mom.”

“Mira!”

Rumi’s protests were quickly silenced by the feeling of Mira peppering her neck and shoulders with sleepy kisses. Even as she felt Mira’s lips touch exposed skin, she wasn’t thinking about her scars. For once, she was totally unconcerned and at peace.

Reaching behind herself to card her hand through Mira’s hair, Rumi spoke whisper soft. “It probably goes without saying, but I haven’t done anything with anyone like we did last night in a long time.”

“I figured, but thank you for telling me.” Mira hummed, her own hands rubbing warm circles over Rumi’s pajamas. “I haven’t been with anyone like that in a long time either.”

Craning her neck, Rumi looked back at Mira with an arched eyebrow. “Really? How long?”

“Pretty much since I met you.”

Record scratch. Tires screeching. Engine stalling.

“...What? Why?” Rumi asked in clear disbelief. Mira gave a lazy shrug, eyes slipping back closed.

“They weren’t you.”

“Mira, that’s almost five years. You were travelling all this time, meeting so many people, and you didn’t–”

“-Again, they weren’t you.” Mira interrupted, eyes cracking back open again. Her gaze was glassy and tired, but was still a lightning bolt to Rumi’s heart. “I’m in this for the long haul. I came back to Seoul for you . And Mi-Jin. As long as you’ll have me.”

“Mira …” Rumi felt her heart swell and her eyes water, so overcome with the flurry of emotions Mira never failed to make her feel. Her hand went to her chest, where she knew the ring looped onto her hidden necklace lay. She pressed down onto it, feeling the piece of jewelry dig into her sternum.

I’m allowed to have this, she thought to herself. He would want me to be happy.

“Everything okay?” Mira’s voice brought her back to the present, her face showing mild concern. Dropping her hand from the chest, she twisted in Mira’s arms to face her. Their faces were close enough for their noses to brush. She reached up to brush a stray strand of pink hair from Mira’s face.

“Everything is perfect. I’m excited for our date.” Leaning forward, she pressed a kiss to the corner of Mira’s mouth. There was a peaceful lull of silence where they just took in each other’s faces. Trailing her fingers down from Mira’s hair, Rumi caressed the soft skin of her cheek before brushing her thumb across Mira’s bottom lip. 

Taking a deep breath, she continued speaking, quiet and gentle so as to not shatter the drowsy atmosphere. “... I wouldn’t have minded if you were with someone else, you know.”

Quirking a brow, a slight frown came across Mira’s face. “Rumi, I don’t need someone else. You’re enough for me. Every jagged edge.”

“No, no. That’s not what I meant.” Rumi took a deep breath, finding the right words. “I mean you can be with me and someone else. Like what you said to me. I’d be okay with it, as long as I have you, too.”

The change in tone had Mira sitting up to get a better look at Rumi. Rumi did the same, fidgeting with the blankets pooled in her lap.

“I didn’t expect you to be okay with something like that.” Mira said, a bit dumbfounded. “You’re just so–”

“Old-fashioned?”

“I was going to say reserved. ”

“Yeah, well.” Rumi looked down at the blankets, watching the fabric crumple between her fingers. “If you’d be okay with it, I am, too.”

A sharp smile spread across Mira’s face. She leaned in close, whispering conspirationally. “What? You gonna pursue your precious camgirl? I told you I wouldn’t mind.”

Rumi’s face went bright red, her chest tightening as she choked on her own spit. A barrage of images all containing Zoey went through her mind. Her hands flew up, gesturing wildly as she tried to say something, anything.

“I–I, it’s not – That’s not why– ” Her panicked stuttering stopped when Mira threw her head back with a laugh. Rumi’s jaw slammed shut, trying to ignore how much her face and neck burned.

“Relax, babe. I’m just joking. It’s like you said before. There’s no shot you’re ever gonna actually meet her.”

Rumi gave a shaky smile, trying to will the sudden anxiety induced nausea away.

“Yep. No shot.”

I am so very, very unbelievably fucked.

Chapter Text

As soon as she hit the “end stream” button, Zoey deflated.

Tuesday streams were always the slower ones, but she made her minimum goal for every stream. But that was about it.

Despite streaming a little longer than she usually did just in case, PurpleTiger226 did not send a single message or donation. Usually Zoey wouldn’t notice a random viewer’s absence, but the lack of PurpleTiger226’s donations made a very obvious difference in profit.

This was the second stream that they hadn’t donated anything, too! Missing one stream was well and good, but now Zoey was a little concerned. Luckily she didn’t need PurpleTiger’s donations to stay afloat. She had long since learned how to handle her finances responsibly and had a hefty savings account to fall back on.

It wasn’t like she was hemorrhaging money on random luxury stuff either. Her car was used and unassuming, her apartment was nice but modest, and she wore the same clearance rack, paint stained clothes she wore before she saw success in camming.

The donation deficit was disappointing but the absence in general was … alarming.

Here she was, overthinking and spiraling about some faceless viewer, wondering if something in the last stream caused them to no longer be a fan. Honestly, maybe they just got a partner to satisfy their needs or were on some remote island with no internet access? There were so many possibilities, but the annoying voice in Zoey’s head wouldn’t stop.

“Why do I even care? ” she muttered to herself, hopping off of the bed with a wince. She really pushed herself near the end of the stream, thinking putting a little extra energy and getting a little creative with toys and positions might suddenly summon her missing viewer. The other viewers ate it up , but now Zoey was just left tired and sticky, still wondering what the hell had changed.

Gathering up the used toys and stepping around the lingerie she had tossed off in the beginning of the stream, she hobbled over to her bathroom feeling dejected. The toys got dumped on the sink to clean later and she stepped into the shower without bothering to wipe her makeup off first.

Trying to make things quick so she could go to bed, she just scrubbed it off under the scalding spray, doing the same for the rest of her body to get rid of any traces of sweat, lube, or bodily fluids stuck to her skin. She wasn’t ashamed of camming, nor did she think it was gross or anything. Post nut clarity just happened to hit really hard after making yourself nut at least three times in front of an audience.

Halfway through her shower, she realized that she probably should have taken the rhinestones she used in her makeup look off so she could reuse them, but her head was just too much of a mess. All she wanted to do was get to bed and cuddle Derpy, but she had a skincare routine to do first.

At least she had the new absolutely insane babysitting gig with Rumi now. The royalties must still be paying good, given how much she was offered to just be on standby. The rate for actively babysitting was even better. Not PurpleTiger226 good, but still good.

Fuck. I need to stop thinking about this.

After going through the motions, feeling like a robot, she crawled into her actual bed with Derpy and burrowed into the blankets. The blankets on her streaming bed were for aesthetic only, not good snuggling material at all.

Opening her phone, she scrolled through her schedule for the week. Tomorrow she could spend all day getting started on Mira’s portrait. Rumi said she wasn’t going into work because she had plans that evening and didn’t want to leave Mi-Jin alone all day. When Zoey offered to watch Mi-Jin for the evening, Rumi declined and said she should just rest to watch Mi-Jin as usual on Thursday morning.

From what little Zoey could finagle out of Rumi, her plans weren’t a work thing. Based on the way she fidgeted, Zoey had a theory that her new favorite MILF had a date.

Whoever got to go on a date with Rumi was now the subject of Zoey’s extreme envy. She promised herself she wouldn’t thirst over Rumi, but the heart wants what the heart wants. Deciding to distract herself, she opened up the online drive she kept Mira’s reference photos on, sending them to her.

Honestly, Zoey was thirsting over her a little, too. She didn’t stand a chance with these women. Here Zoey was, just trying to live her little gay dreams in peace, and then these two goddesses in human form stroll into her life.

Feeling a bit of too much arousal, Zoey shooed the down bad thoughts away. Her vagina was on vacation after that last stream.

Plugging in her phone, she cuddled Derpy close.

“Rest now, thinking about them on either side of me like a sandwich later.” she mumbled into his fur, letting the exhaustion take over.

***

Mi-Jin was pouting.

Rumi was right there and Mi-Jin was pouting.

Instead of getting excited upon realizing her mother wasn’t changing into work clothes, Mi-Jin crossed her arms and angrily demanded to know why “Miss Zoey” wasn’t coming over today.

“I’m not going to work with Auntie Celine today, Mimi.” Rumi explained, a little miffed. Was she actually getting iced out by a toddler?

“But why isn’t Miss Zoey coming over?”

“Because Miss Zoey comes to take care of you when I have to go to work.”

The answer was apparently not satisfactory to Mi-Jin. She let out a little huff and angrily stabbed at her fried eggs, her face all scrunched up.

Oh my god, my daughter is giving me the cold shoulder.

She was actually kind of scared to tell Mi-Jin that Bobby would be the one watching her that night. She knew Zoey could have theoretically babysat that night and the next day, but she had no idea when she and Mira would be back. Also, if she really did end holding up their deal and taking the leap with Mira physically, she didn’t want it to be right after introducing Mira to the camgirl she had been masturbating to for months.

Not that Mira would know that, but Rumi’s poker face was abysmal.

Instead of contemplating the intricacies of mother/daughter dynamics, Rumi busied herself with all of the things she usually did when she stayed home with Mi-Jin.

There was breakfast and lunch to be made, laundry to do, shopping lists to make, and all of the wonderfully boring things that she used to have entire teams do for her when she was in her popstar days. She considered herself to be a pretty good homemaker, even finding a lot of peace in it, but that was definitely not always the case.

Her and Jinu trying to live the not-famous, normal married couple life was a struggle. While money was never an issue, they were in their mid-twenties with zero cooking skills and a very shaky knowledge of how to do laundry. They were so determined to make the normal life work that they figured it out with the assistance of so so many YouTube tutorials. The first time they had to get a ketchup stain out of Jinu’s white shirt, they almost cried with how horribly their attempts went.

Seated on the couch, Rumi glanced over at Mi-Jin who was now doing her morning doodles while Rumi had the news playing on the TV. For the millionth time, she tried imagining what Jinu would have been like as a father. Would he be the super-protective, hard headed dad? Or would he be the most painfully obvious girl dad? An image of him huddled up with his long legs at Mi-Jin’s toddler sized table attending one of her tea parties came to mind and Rumi couldn’t help but chuckle.

“Hey, Mi-Jin?” Rumi called out, making a gesture for Mi-Jin to join her on the couch. Carefully setting her crayons to the side, Mi-Jin clambered up onto the couch into her lap. Rumi gathered her close, stroking her daughter’s silky black hair. “Do you ever think of your Appa, honey?”

Mi-Jin gave a little nod, looking slightly confused. “Eomma loved him, right?” Rumi smiled down at Mi-Jin, soft but a little sad.

“Yes, honey. I did. I still do.” Rumi said. “You would have loved him, too. I wish you got to meet him.”

“Did he love you, too?”

“Yes, honey.”

“... Would he have loved me?”

“Oh, yes. Absolutely.” Rumi squeezed Mi-Jin tight, trying to ignore the ache in her chest. It was rare that Mi-Jin was attentive whenever discussing her father was involved and while she didn’t want her to grieve, Rumi still wanted Mi-Jin to know about such an important piece of her life. “He would have loved to be your Appa. Without a doubt.”

Suddenly, Mi-Jin’s expression looked analytical, her small, round eyes studying Rumi’s face. “... Eomma gets sad when we talk about Appa.”

“Because I miss him, honey.” Honestly, kids were frightfully perceptive at times. Mi-Jin was no exception. “I get sad, but I don’t want to forget him. He’s important to me. He gave me you.”

Mi-Jin let out a little hum, looking down at her own lap with brows scrunched together in thought. “... Appa gave me Eomma, too, right?”

Rumi blinked, a little confused. “Uh, yes. I think so.”

Mi-Jin nodded, small and serious. “Then I love Appa, too.”

There was no chance Rumi could hold back the tears hearing that. She buried her face in Mi-Jin’s hair to hide them, feeling like she had just achieved something unbelievable with her daughter. This little five year old girl was truly the greatest blessing the world had ever given her, enough to make the pain of her life before bearable.

“If you ever want to know more about Appa, just ask me. Okay?” Mi-Jin nodded with a hum, content to be held tight in her mother’s arms. Sure, she had been a bit sassy earlier, but Mi-Jin seemed to know when Eomma needed love.

“Okay. Can I have cheesecake?”

“Mi-Jin. It is 10am. You cannot have cheesecake.”

***

Needless to say, Mi-Jin was not pleased when she found out Bobby was babysitting her instead of Zoey. It was as if the universe threw Zoey into Rumi’s life specifically to torture her.

Thankfully, bribery exists.

“You can watch as much Bluey as you want while I’m gone.”

Hook, line, and sinker.

Having so many repeated good experiences being babysat must have made the idea of Rumi going out easier and easier for Mi-Jin. Usually she had to add at least three other conditions for Mi-Jin to consider letting Rumi out of her sight.

This meant Rumi had plenty of time to get ready for the date without worrying about keeping Mi-Jin placated. Her daughter was more than happy to sit and watch her do her makeup, especially because she was putting more effort into it than she usually would. All of the glittery shades Rumi never pulled out fascinated Mi-Jin. She was happily sitting on Rumi’s bedroom floor, absolutely destroying some super sparkly, violently colorful eyeshadow palette that would have been using in her performing days.

She made a note to leave some makeup remover wipes set out for Bobby for when bath time came around.

“One last touch, Mi-Jin!” Rumi called out. She stepped out of the bathroom, all ready to go sans the shoes she had already picked out. She had picked out a dark grey sweater dress with a turtleneck and a hem that fell just above her knees. As usual, the only skin she showed was her face and hands, using opaque black tights to cover her legs.

Crouching down next to Mi-Jin, Rumi held out two lipstick tubes. “Which one should I wear tonight, honey?”

Taking the tubes, Mi-Jin studied them with the same intensity she regarded her crayons with. Her face scrunched up, looking between the deep burgundy and the bright scarlet for a solid minute. Eventually, she handed Rumi the scarlet, a shade Rumi would admittedly have never chosen herself.

“This one. Wear this one.” she commanded. Rumi nodded, taking the other tube before it could be destroyed to put away. She went into the bathroom and was out just a few moments later, lips painted striking red. Mi-Jin lit up when she saw it, clapping her hands together. “Pretty Eomma!”

“Pretty Mimi!” Rumi replied back, giving Mi-Jin a poke on the nose right where there was a huge smudge of blue eyeshadow. “Speaking of Mimi’s, Auntie Mira should be here soon. Why don’t you go downstairs and wait with Uncle Bobby and when she knocks, you can answer the door for her, okay?”

Nodding, Mi-Jin abandoned the mess of an eyeshadow palette she had been playing with and scurried out of the room.

Hearing Mi-Jin going a little too fast, Rumi called out, “Mi-Jin! Walk down the stairs! Slowly!”

Listening closely, she could hear little footsteps move half the speed, careful and patient. It made Rumi chuckle and shake her head, picking up the discarded palette and tossing it haphazardly with the rest of her makeup. Grabbing the heeled boots she had picked out along with a purse that went with her outfit, Rumi left her bedroom to follow her daughter downstairs.

A part of her thought maybe she should have given herself one last look in the mirror to make sure everything was perfect, but she was too scared that she would see nothing but imperfections.

She promised Mira this date. She promised herself this date. She couldn’t let herself find any reason to chicken out.

A leap of faith. No second thoughts. No hesitation.

You’re allowed to be happy, she chanted to herself internally. He would want you to be happy.

She kept his ring hidden under her dress still. She couldn’t imagine taking it off. It kept him there with her, close to her heart. It made her feel like he was there, supporting her. He was always the one to remind her that she was allowed to have nice things.

When she reached the bottom of the stairs, she could see Mi-Jin bouncing in place five feet away from the front door, practically vibrating as she waited for Mira to knock. Rumi had just gotten a text from Mira saying she was five minutes away and she wondered if Mi-Jin would stand there waiting the entire time.

Not willing to distract her daughter from her fixations, Rumi approached Bobby from where he was sitting on the living room couch, scrolling through his phone with his brows furrowed.

“Are you working right now?” Bobby jolted, clearly in his own world. He quickly locked his phone screen, the glimpse of what Rumi got looking suspiciously like his company email inbox.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“C’mon! Don’t make me feel bad having you babysit and doing company work at the same time. Whatever it is can wait another twelve hours.”

“Fine.” Bobby tucked his phone into his pocket, holding his other hand up in surrender. “I promise I will only use my phone in case of emergencies or if Mi-Jin wants to play Candy Crush.”

“Candy Crush? She’s already getting unlimited Bluey until bed!”

“I have to uphold my reputation as the fun uncle.”

Playfully rolling her eyes, Rumi grabbed her everyday purse and began taking everything she needed out of it to put in the one she picked for the night. As she was busy deciding which one of the four lip balms she had that she wanted to take, she heard Bobby speak again.

“You look very nice, Rumi. Mira is very lucky.” Rumi paused, her heart stuttering a bit in her chest. She picked a lip balm blind and tossed it into her purse.

“Please. I’m way luckier. Have you met Mira?”

“Yes. She scares me.”

“I’ve told you a thousand times. She’s a huge softie.”

“I am still scared.”

Laughter came light and easy, a lull of silence falling between them. Mi-Jin was still waiting at the door, babbling under her breath.

“... I’m very proud of you, Rumi.” Bobby said, causing Rumi to feel her eyes begin to burn. She took a deep breath through her nose, keeping the tears at bay. It was apparently a big night for being an emotional mess.

“I’m proud of me, too.”

***

It felt a little weird, strolling up to Rumi’s door without a motorcycle helmet under her arm.

Mira had elected to use her car for once, knowing people didn’t generally appreciate spending time dolling themselves up for a date only to have their hard work undone by the wind and helmet hair.

She herself took advantage of the choice, electing to wear a skirt instead of pants and an absolutely impractical pair of heels that made her legs look even longer .

Was she showing off?

Yes. Absolutely.

She knew her legs were amazing. They were the very same legs Rumi grinded on two nights ago. They were why all her pants were carefully tailored and her skirts and dresses almost always had high slits.

Maybe she was borrowing the confidence from her appearance to offset the nervousness of this date. She wasn’t sure. All she knew is that her palms felt sweaty as she climbed up the porch steps and knocked on the front door.

She barely finished the third knock when the door swung open, Mira knowing better than to think Rumi herself was answering. Her gaze immediately went downward, seeing Mi-Jin dancing in place with a face covered in a mess of sparkles in every color of the rainbow.

“Little Mimi! What happened to your face?”

“Eomma was doing her makeup so I did mine, too!”

“You did an amazing job. Very high-fashion.” Mira crouched down to be at eye level with Mi-Jin, squinting at her face in exaggerated examination.

“I picked out Eomma’s lipstick!”

“She has the makings of a professional makeup artist,” Rumi’s voice cut in, stepping behind Mi-Jin. Mira immediately looked up and felt like she had all of the air punched out of her lungs.

Rumi had gone from Mom to Mommy real fast.

The fitted sweater dress showed every  single curve time and motherhood had blessed Rumi with. Even if every inch of her was covered with fabric, it clung to her in the most flattering ways possible. Mira considered it a good thing that she was crouched down to interact with Mi-Jin because she feared her knees would have given out if she were standing.

“... Wow.”

It was all Mira could bring herself to say, feeling like she was about to start drooling at any moment. Rumi gave an awkward laugh, her shoulders bunching upwards at the very obvious gawking.

“Okay, honey. Give Auntie Mira a hug before she and I head out.” Rumi urged Mi-Jin forward into Mira’s embrace. Honestly, the hug felt a little robotic, given that 95% of Mira’s brain was just feral pining after Rumi and a ridiculous amount of fantasies about what Rumi was wearing under her dress.

Mira probably didn’t take her eyes off Rumi the entire time, bidding an absentminded farewell to Mi-Jin and Bobby while Rumi gathered up her purse and followed Mira to her car. She managed to keep her cool, very deliberately making sure one foot moved in front of the other before she made a fatal mistake.

As she turned to open the car door for Rumi, she got a full, long look at Rumi from the back and exactly how good her ass looked in that dress.

***

Thunk!

“Fuck!” Mira’s pained yelp caused Rumi to whip her head around, half bent down to slide into Mira’s car. From the looks of it, Mira accidentally opened the car door with too much force, causing it to slam directly into her knee.

“Are you okay?” Mira nodded, lips drawn thin as she breathed through the pain. Letting out a shaky sigh, she closed the door for Rumi and limped over to the driver’s side. As soon as she started the car, she gripped the steering wheel so tight her knuckles were white, face still tense.

“... Is everything okay, Mir? You seem really tense.” Rumi asked, voice full of nerves. Mira’s gaze flicked towards her and then sharply back to the road as she pulled out of the driveway.

“I am honestly trying not to jump you.”

“ Jump me?” Rumi said, shellshocked.

“Yes. Jump you. Do you know how hot you look?’

“Well, I–”

“The answer is extremely fucking hot, babe.”

Face flushing, Rumi ducked her head to hide the absolutely giddy smile stretching across her face. “You are so ridiculous. Aren’t you supposed to tell your date she looks beautiful or pretty?”

“Oh, you’re those things, too. But you just popped in the doorway and blasted my eyeballs with hotness out of nowhere and now I’m thrown off my game.”

“Well, you look very pretty, Mira.” Rumi reached over and patted Mira’s thigh, low enough to not be considered too suggestive. “I would kiss you, but I just put this lipstick on and I don’t think its very transfer-resistant.”

“Oh, don’t worry. We’ll test that out later.”

Laughing with a snort, Rumi settled in, half-heartedly paying attention to where Mira was driving them. She knew they were going to dinner somewhere, but Mira had assured her it would be somewhere with privacy.

There was no shame or apprehension towards them both being seen together. Rumi knew Mira would happily scream to the heavens about how in love with Rumi she was. She would do the same, if she still had any sort of confidence to be loud again.

But this was for them. This was a date for them to cherish and grow with one another, not worrying about someone with a camera trying to sneak photos of them from unflattering angles. With each other, they could laugh freely and put aside the need for public composure without some opportunistic bystander trying to spin a story for a tabloid.

Most importantly, Rumi wanted to heal.

She remembered when the first photo of her and Mi-Jin hit the press. She thought the headlines would be about how worse for wear she looked, gaunt and pale from recovering from the accident and childbirth with fresh scars peaking across her face. Maybe they would have gotten a kick out of how her insanely long braid was nowhere to be seen, her purple hair cropped to barely a few inches long.

But no, it was mostly people doing the math halfheartedly and theorizing that Rumi had already moved on from her dead husband and gotten knocked up by another man.

Seeing that first magazine cover was a slap to the face. Not just that, but Rumi felt like she had already failed her daughter by letting her face be splashed all over the internet and news stands. Even now, it was still a struggle to keep information about Mi-Jin hidden. At least a dozen employees had been fired from Sunshine Records for trying to make a quick buck selling what little they knew to the press.

Mira had assured Rumi she had that aspect of their date handled.

It was a little confusing, heading towards the opposite direction of the city where she thought Mira might’ve rented out an entire five star restaurant. Instead, they ended up pulling into what Rumi knew was the entrance to a botanical garden, causing her to perk up and give Mira a questioning glance.

“Don’t most places like this close earlier in the day?” Sure enough, there were only three other cars in the decently sized parking lot. Mira shot her a wry grin.

“Just go with it.”

Only a touch wary, Rumi let Mira open her car door for her, taking her hand as she stepped out. A man dressed in a sharp suit came out from the front entrance of the visitors center, approaching them with perfect posture.

“Miss Hong, Miss Ryu,” he greeted, giving a perfect 90 degree bow. “Your table is ready for you on the veranda. Rumi shot Mira a look that spoke only of confusion, to which Mira just laced their fingers together and led her forward.

They walked through the clearly closed visitors’ center to where a golf cart waited at the entrance to the actual garden. Helping Rumi onto the rear bench, Mira sat back looking all too pleased with herself as the suited gentleman began driving down the garden’s paths.

“What scheme have you cooked up?” Rumi asked, poking at Mira’s ribs. Mira caught her hand, bringing it up to her lips to press a kiss to the back of it.

“Just a date I’ve been planning for like … three years.” With a playful roll of her eyes and a fond scoff, Rumi relaxed into Mira’s side, watching the garden’s grounds pass by and enjoying the cool breeze as they drove along.

Eventually, they reached a veranda that looked like it was likely used as a party venue, flanked with tulips, rose bushes, and Grecian style columns with trumpet vines crawling up their heights. Rumi could easily imagine a wedding ceremony being held here. All it needed was the chairs and wedding arch.

Instead, there was a single, circular table with two chairs.

The golf cart came to a stop, Mira giving Rumi a polite hand as they stepped off. She led her to the table, pulling the chair out for her. Rumi couldn’t help but laugh.

“You’re so corny.” She said, sinking down onto the fancy seat. Mira pushed it in for her as she sat before sitting in her own seat across from her.

“You love it.”

In what seemed to require momentous care and effort, Mira had arranged for a small hired staff to serve them during a private outdoor dinner date. It was just the server who also drove the cart and a chef who emerged from the small banquet hall attached to the veranda.

“There’s like, half a dozen security guards at all of the nearby entrances.” Mira elaborated further as their server began pouring chilled champagne. “Just in case.”

The food was somehow amazingly fresh, despite the unorthodox venue the chef had to prepare it at. Rumi couldn’t fathom the amount of planning something like this took.

As the sun dipped below the horizon, their little corner of the world was lit by the vintage style lampposts running around the edge of the veranda. Their conversations were no different than usual, but the romantic air had them taking pauses to just reach across the table and hold hands between bites.

If she wasn’t already smitten, Rumi would have fallen hard for Mira.

The date had her forgetting all of the baggage she dragged with her everyday. She didn’t feel like a widow. She didn’t feel like a single mom. She didn’t feel like a ghost, a living legend, or any other label people loved to bracket her name with.

For once, she was just Rumi .

The food was gone all too fast and their deserts lain mostly finished in front of them. Halfway through the meal, Rumi and Mira scooted their chairs to be right next to each other rather than across. Their plates were butted up right next to each other, much easier to feed each other bites despite their meals being the exact same.

Feeding Rumi one last bite of cheesecake, Mira set the fork down and rubbed her thumb at the edge of Rumi’s bottom lip.

“Yep. Definitely not transfer proof. You need better lipstick.” Rumi couldn’t help but laugh, leaning into Mira with her head on her shoulder.

“I don’t think I’ve ever worn this one before tonight. I should have planned better.”

“It looks good on you, so I think we can let it pass for tonight.”

A bit of a giggle escaped Rumi, feeling pleasantly buzzed from the champagne. The server came and took their empty plates away. When he reemerged, he had a small pastry box decorated with gold filigree that he set down on the table. Curious, Rumi peaked inside and saw another slice of cheesecake.

“What’s this for?” Mira blinked, brows pinched together as if it were obvious.

“It’s for Mi-Jin. I made sure they had a third slice we could take home for her.”

Rumi’s heart stuttered and her breath caught.

All of this careful planning, the romantic atmosphere, the comfortable safety, and everything else Mira had done for her this night was swoon worthy.

But this? Something as simple as knowing exactly what her daughter’s favorite food was without Rumi having ever explicitly told her? She knows she’s mentioned Mi-Jin’s insatiable appetite for it offhandedly before, but she didn’t realize Mira would remember .

Somehow, that was the one thing that made it undeniable to Rumi. She couldn’t avoid it or deny herself of it anymore. This perfect person was not only going to great lengths for her, but also the most important thing in her entire life.

“I am in love with you.” Rumi blurted, unable to keep it inside. Surprise took over Mira’s face.

“I love you, too.” she replied easily, but a little confused. Rumi’s face flushed and she shook her head, hands flapping as she tried to figure out how words worked.

“No, no. I mean, yes. I love you,” She said, only a little rambly. “But I mean like, I am in love with you. I don’t want to be in some in-between grey area with you anymore.”

Mira looked like she was holding her breath, hand coming to clutch one of Rumi’s. Rumi could see her throat flex and she nodded at Rumi, urging her to continue. Rumi took a deep, grounding breath.

“I want us to be together. Actually together.” She clarified, staring down at her and Mira’s joined hands. “I don’t know. Girlfriends, I think. Though that sounds kind of … juvenile and silly for me.”

Mira nodded with a hum. “How do you feel about ‘partners’?”

Rumi could hear the hope in her voice, rivalled only by the very same hope in her heart.

“Yes. Partners. Romantically. I want to be partners with you, Mira.”

“As I said before. However you want me, you have me.”

Smiling, Rumi wound her arms over Mira’s shoulders so they could meet in a sweet kiss, further ruining the lipstick she had painted so perfectly on before their date. Mira’s hands slid across Rumi’s waist, drawing her closer so the kiss could deepen.

Mindful of the fact they still had the server hovering a ways away, they broke apart, eyes still locked in a gaze that could only be described as smitten.

“We should go ahead and head out.” Mira murmured, fingers brushing away another smudge of lipstick at the corner of Rumi’s mouth.

Maybe it was because she was pent up from denying herself SunneeZee’s streams for over a week. Maybe it was because her and Mira had already crossed the line of new intimacy a few nights ago.

Before she could stop herself, Rumi caught Mira’s thumb between her teeth. Mira’s eyes blew wide open, jaw going slack. Feeling bold from the positive response, Rumi let her tongue give the pad of Mira’s thumb a soft lick before pulling away. Mira was dumbfounded, her hand hovering awkwardly between them.

“Do you remember our deal?” Rumi asked. Mira gave a slow nod. Smirking, Rumi stood and took a few steps towards the golf cart. She stopped, looking back at Mira over her shoulder and after a moment, held her hand out.

“I know you’re not wearing pants, so technically it's not the exact terms of our deal.” she continued, a dark look in her eyes. Mira stood up clumsily, following after Rumi. As soon as they were close enough for their hands to touch, Mira grabbed Rumi’s, walking ahead to practically drag Rumi to the golf cart.

“I will grab a random pair of pants out of your laundry. I do not give a single fuck.”

All Rumi could do was laugh, feeling buzzed, happy, and wanted .

And for the first time? It didn’t scare her.

Chapter Text

Bobby truly was a blessing.

All it took was one glance at Mira and Rumi stepping through the front door for him to put two and two together. Within a second, he was standing up and gathering his things, letting Rumi know that Mi-Jin had already gone to bed and that he’d promised her that Eomma would be there when she woke up.

Mira knew their hair was a mess and their lipstick smudged to hell and back and she knew for a fact Bobby noticed. He took the hint, getting out of there as quickly as possible while reminding Rumi he’d be there at 9am to pick her up for work.

Mira couldn’t help but snort when the door shut behind him, leaving her and Rumi standing a bit awkwardly in the living room. Bobby didn’t even wait for them to say anything in response before he retreated, leaving Rumi a little slack jawed and Mira mildly impressed.

“If I ever get an assistant, I want one like him. How much do you pay him again?”

“A frankly absurd amount, but not nearly as much as he deserves. There isn’t enough money in the world for that.”

“I’m chaebol. Try me.”

With a fond laugh and a tug, Mira was led up the stairs to Rumi’s bedroom. They both made sure to leave their shoes downstairs, not wanting to risk waking Mi-Jin with the clacks of their heels on the hardwood floors. The way they had to suppress their laughter and try to navigate through the house without turning on any of the lights reminded Mira of when she would sneak around past curfew and smuggle her girlfriends in and out of the house while her parents were asleep.

Except she was now sneaking around with a parent. Wild times.

“We have to be really quiet.” Rumi whispered, shutting the bedroom door soft and careful behind them.

“I know I can be quiet.” Mira said, gathering Rumi up into her arms and herding her towards the bed. She leaned down to trail warm kisses along Rumi’s jaw, causing her to shiver. “But what about you? ”

“I was perfectly capable of keeping my voice down the other night!”

“Oh, baby. That was just some basic grinding.” Mira’s hands lay firm on Rumi’s hips, tugging them close so there wasn’t an inch of space between them. She let her teeth trail across the small strip of skin above Rumi’s high collar, just a promise of a nip. “ And I had to muffle you. Do you think you can keep it together while I take care of you for real?”

The only response Rumi gave was a whimper, eliciting a low chuckle from Mira. Just like their last night together, she was quick to unravel. Mira was a little bolder this time, letting her hands freely drift over the curves of Rumi’s body and reveling in how their softness gave way under her fingers.

Impatient, Rumi wound her fingers through Mira’s hair, steering Mira’s mouth away from her neck and towards her own. They wasted no time, the kiss defaulting to something deep and filthy, full of tongue and hints of teeth. Gripping Rumi’s waist, Mira urged her to arch further against her, Mira’s leg slipping between Rumi’s.

Only this time, there was the distinct feeling of Rumi’s dress hitching upward.

It was sobering, after years of deliberately avoiding any sort of movement that might be perceived as trying to remove a piece of clothing. Mira knew that no matter how tangled up in each other they got, that was the one condition Rumi always set.

“Everything stays on.”

As much as Mira would like to assume Rumi intended to go further, she refused to assume anything that might make Rumi uncomfortable. Reluctantly, she separated their mouths, knowing for a fact that none of their lipstick had any chance of remaining.

“Rumi, baby,” Mira said, grabbing her attention. Rumi gave a questioning whine, eyes already a touch glassy from arousal. “I want you – all of you – but I need to know what you’ll let me see.”

A few rapid blinks had Rumi’s gaze focusing, her blissed out expression traded for one of apprehension. She squirmed a bit in Mira’s grip, but didn’t make any attempt to pull away.

“You … you know what happened, right?” Rumi asked, quiet and unsure. Mira gave one gentle nod. “And you saw what it did to my face.”

It wasn’t said like a question, but Mira nodded regardless. Taking a shuddering breath, Rumi squeezed her eyes shut. It didn’t take Mira's expert skill at reading people to know Rumi’s thoughts were going haywire. She wanted to chime in and say that it’s okay, that Rumi didn’t have to do anything she didn’t want to, but Rumi already knew that. Instead, she gave Rumi those heavy moments of quiet to collect her thoughts.

“What I said tonight, I meant it.” Rumi said, voice shaking. “I want to be your partner. I want to give you everything that I gave Jinu and he knew every jagged edge I had.”

“Rumi–”

“And this is … it’s not some impulsive thing.” Rumi kept speaking, not allowing Mira to interject. “If I’m with you, I’m with you for the long haul. I can’t expect you to never see. Not when I want to wake up next to you and see you at every high and low.”

Mira nodded, hanging on to every word. Her heart was hammering in her chest, full of love and anticipation. 

“So, uh.” Rumi pulled away from Mira’s hands, going to the bedside table and flicking on the lamp. She adjusted it to a relatively dim setting, then gestured at the lightswitch on the wall. Giving a nod, Mira went to turn it off, the room becoming bathed in low light.

“I don’t want to hide and this is, well. It’s still scary.” Rumi said with an awkward laugh. “But not as bad as the lights fully on. So. Yeah.”

Deliberately keeping any sort of pitying look off of her face, Mira approached Rumi and took her in her arms with the same amount of adoration as before. The kiss they shared was less fueled by lust and instead by what could only be categorized as loving devotion. The tension in Rumi’s shoulders gradually melted away and once again she was pressing her hips against Mira’s, arching under every firm grope.

Freeing up one hand from its appreciation of the curve of Rumi’s hip, she guided one of Rumi’s to the buttons of her blouse. Rumi took the hint, fingers gentle and just a touch unsure as she unbuttoned it. As soon as the last button was undone, the fabric was tugged from where it was tucked into Mira’s skirt and shrugged away, leaving Mira in what she considered the sexiest bra she owned.

She refused to admit how much time she spent considering her options. Her underwear drawers back at her apartment were still entirely emptied out.

In an imitation of Mira, Rumi guided Mira’s hand downward, towards the hem of her dress. Very deliberately, she led Mira’s hand underneath the thick knitted fabric until it reached the waistband of her black tights. It was less Mira dragging the tights down herself and more Rumi using Mira’s hand to do it.

Once they were off and kicked away, Rumi’s dress slipped back down, leaving her only bare from the knees down. Mira didn’t have the best angle, but she did catch a glimpse of discoloration decorating Rumi’s skin.

Keeping the quiet ceremony of shedding clothes going, Mira unzipped her skirt and let gravity slide it down her long legs. She stood before Rumi in her matching lingerie set, the scant few inches of empty space between them charged with thick anticipation. Achingly slow, she reached down towards the hem of Rumi’s dress, pinching it between her fingers.

Gaze flicking upwards, her eyes met Rumi’s. Throat flexing as she swallowed hard, Rumi gave a miniscule nod.

Trying not to go too fast or take too long, Mira dragged the hem of the dress upwards, revealing pale skin that never saw the light of day. It was as if an entire story was slowly being told with every inch, skin that was once flawless and smooth on magazine covers and billboards now marred with patches and slashes of twisting, uneven burn scars. Mira quickly found out that the scars were more plentiful on Rumi’s torso and arms than anywhere else, once the dress was finally pulled all the way off.

As soon as the fabric was gone, Rumi shuffled a step back and curled in on herself. She tried to use her arms for some kind of cover, as if she could fully hide the damage written into her skin with her hands alone. One thing Mira noticed is the reveal of a simple necklace that had been hidden under the dress. She’d caught glimpses of the ring dangling from it before and knew full well what it likely was.

There were so many things Mira could say. The first things that came to mind were painfully cheesy, telling Rumi that she was still beautiful or offering condolences for the agony she clearly went through. Instead, she grasped Rumi’s hands and brought them to her lips, pressing a kiss on them.

“I love you so much.” She said, rather than any sort of poetic spiel about Rumi’s scars. That seemed to be the exact right thing to say, the clear anxiety running through Rumi’s body melting away.

“I love you, too.”

“Then come here.”

The feeling of skin on skin was a new level of heaven for Mira. Rumi was so warm against her and Mira was practically addicted to it the second they pressed together. Whereas Mira was lithe and slim, Rumi was soft and curvy.

Gone was the flat tummy she sported during her popstar days. Rumi had a healthy amount of cushioning on her stomach, hips, and thighs. The burn scars weren’t the only thing decorating her skin, Mira seeing the squiggly pale lines of stretch marks lining the parts of Rumi’s body affected by motherhood.

Mira wanted to trace them with her tongue.

When Mira corralled Rumi to lay back on the bed, Rumi let out a laugh and squirmed underneath her.

“Hey! What about our deal?” Rumi said, batting Mira’s hand away from where they were beginning to skim down her stomach. “It’s my turn.”

Rumi shoved at Mira, making her lay back on the bed instead. She settled atop her, confidence faltering after a moment. Her hands halted midway while reaching towards Mira.

“I’m … very out of practice.”

“So you’ve told me.”

“No, like,” Rumi flapped her hands a bit, trying to find the words. “I haven’t been with a woman in … probably a decade. I need help.”

Propping herself up on one elbow, Mira took a moment to enjoy the view of Rumi only in her practical mismatched bra and panty set. Her free hand came to rest reassuringly on Rumi’s hip. “What do you need help with?”

“I know the gist of what to do, but you need to guide me.” Rumi said, gesturing vaguely towards all of Mira. “Show me what you like, y’know? I want this to feel good for you.”

Laughing, Mira squeezed where her hand lay on Rumi’s hip. “Anything you do will feel amazing, babe.”

Scoffing, Rumi shoved at Mira’s shoulder, causing her to flop back flat onto her back again. Her weight pressed down atop Mira’s hips from where she was straddling them as she leaned down  to smother Mira’s smarmy smile with her lips.

As Rumi hovered over Mira, the ring dangling from her necklace brushed Mira’s collarbones, causing her to jolt. Rumi quickly pulled away, eyes locking onto the jewelry and widening as if she had entirely forgotten it was there.

Sitting up, she moved to pull the necklace from over her head, being stopped by Mira before she could lift it very far.

“You don’t have to do that.” Mira said, her hand gentle atop Rumi’s. Gently pushing Mira’s hand away, Rumi finished pulling the necklace off and reached over to set it on the nightstand with great care.

“I wear that so I can have him with me,” Rumi settled back over Mira, trailing her fingers along the straps of her lacy bra. She leaned down, pressing a firm and wet kiss against Mira’s lips. When they parted, Mira felt like her heart was doing flips in her chest. “And this is for just you and me.”

“I’m more than okay with that.”

Their mouths connected again, lips sure to be swollen later and tongues sliding against each other. Hands began to wander, Rumi’s travelling across Mira’s small breasts while Mira’s fingers squeezed at the fat of Rumi’s hips and thighs. She guided her into a grind with just enough pressure to wind her up even more.

“Off, off,” Rumi was tugging at the straps of Mira’s bra, no longer content with groping at her breasts over it. Mira let out a laugh at her sudden insistence, propping herself up enough for Rumi to wiggle her hands underneath to unlatch the clasp.

Once it was flung away, Rumi’s hands immediately went to grab at Mira’s breasts and then halted partway. Her eyes locked onto the barbells pierced through Mira’s nipples, jaw going slack.

“When did that happen?” Mira let out a snicker, poking at the jewelry and looking rather pleased with herself.

“A year and a half ago. You like them?”

“Are they … okay to touch?” Rumi’s fingers were already inching towards them, light enough that it was almost ticklish.

“Please do.”

Rumi didn’t get super grabby right away. First, she kneaded Mira’s breast while only her thumbs brushed the silver barbells, causing Mira to let out a pleased sigh. Taking that as a good sign (it most definitely was), Rumi lightly pinched them between her fingers. It drew a quiet whine from Mira’s throat, her nipples always having been on the more sensitive side. It made the prospect of piercing them a bit daunting, but she was so glad she went through with it.

Shuffling a bit further down, Rumi began pressing her lips in a trail down Mira’s neck. Her sucks and nibbles against Mira’s skin were light and exploratory, as if she was too scared to leave marks. Mira quickly decided that wouldn’t do, winding her fingers through Rumi’s hair and giving it a tug for the briefest fraction of a second.

“Babe. I’m not made of glass, nor do I give a shit if someone sees me with a hickey.” Mira said, voice a little gravelly considering Rumi’s fingers were still pulling and pinching at her nipples. “In fact, I would love it if you gave me some. I want my partner to leave marks on me.”

A smile lifted the corner of Rumi’s lips, one that made her look a bit like a lovestricken schoolgirl. She hid it against Mira’s collarbone, planting more kisses. The giddy energy was infectious, a matching smile forming on Mira’s face. She watched as Rumi placed a few more open-mouthed kisses across her throat and shoulder and when she least expected it, teeth sunk sharply into the top of her breast.

“Hey, hey! Feisty much?” Mira whisper-yelled, jolting under Rumi. As shocked as she was, her reaction wasn’t negative in the slightest. She could feel her face flushing as the sting of the bite caused arousal to flare in her belly.

“My partner wanted me to leave marks.” Rumi said, sounding smug. Mira gave Rumi’s thigh a light, scolding swat, causing Rumi to let out a tiny yelp. Sparing a moment  to shoot Mira a weak glare, Rumi went back to work, her mouth finally going downward to where Mira really wanted.

The heat of Rumi’s mouth wrapping around her nipple had Mira actively biting back a low moan, especially since Rumi didn’t hesitate to give a lot of attention to her piercing. While one was being toyed with by Rumi’s hands, the other was poked and prodded by her insistent tongue. Mira could feel herself getting wetter, internally cursing how awful lace panties felt when they grew damp. The sensation caused her to squirm a bit, thighs pressing together and hips restless.

Whether it be because she noticed Mira’s discomfort or because she was eager to press on, Rumi used her now free hand to delve lower, past Mira’s taut stomach and into the waistband of her panties. She could feel the fabric pinch into her hips as Rumi’s hand burrowed under them, fingers sliding through trimmed hair and making contact with Mira’s slick heat.

“Off, you can take them off.” Mira breathed out, already shifting to lift her hips up. Wasting no time, Rumi tugged her underwear down and off, flinging them away and leaving Mira completely bare. Her fingers slid between Mira’s lower lips, gathering the wetness and spreading it across the warm folds. She wasn’t doing anything specific, just exploring. Mira remembered her request from earlier.

“Focus on my clit, light but fast.” Mira instructed, canting her hips upward as if to get Rumi’s hand where she wanted it. “A finger or two inside is fine, three if we’re more patient but I am definitely not right now.”

Nodding, Rumi began rubbing at Mira’s clit in swift, tiny circles. The positive feedback was immediate, Mira having to slap a hand over her mouth to prevent herself from crying out too loud. She had forgotten that Rumi wouldn’t be the only one easy to wind up, having gone through a self-inflicted dry spell herself.

“Fuck, just like that, baby,” Mira encouraged, slightly muffled behind her palm. Rumi’s fingers gained confidence and she began toying with the barbells with lips and teeth again. Mira could tell she was going to come embarrassingly quick, one hand tangled in Rumi’s hair and the other white-knuckling the sheets next to her head.

Moving down further, Rumi pressed a kiss right above Mira’s navel, causing her breath the hitch. She looked down to see Rumi looking directly back up into her eyes, a questioning look on her face.

“Can I go lower? Use my mouth?” Rumi asked, lips lingering against Mira’s skin. Swallowing hard, Mira gave a nod, her breath caught in her throat.

Fingers slipping from Mira’s clit down to her entrance, Rumi shuffled further down between Mira’s legs. Not once in her life would Mira consider herself shy, but having Rumi kneeling between her thighs looking at their apex with borderline reverence had the heat prickling across the back of her neck.

Just as she was about to beg Rumi to stop staring, Mira watched as that head of mussed purple hair ducked down and gasped sharply when warm lips wrapped around her aching clit. Her fingers tightened around Rumi’s hair, too overwhelmed to restrain herself but thankfully receiving nothing but enthusiasm from the pulling. Mira barely registered the finger sliding smoothly into her core and Rumi licked tight circles onto her clit.

“Baby, Rumi,” Mira gasped out, voice uncharacteristically high and whiny from how much she was fighting to stay quiet. “‘M not gonna last.”

As much as Mira wanted to keep her eyes open, to watch Rumi’s mouth and jaw flex as one of her fingers pumped in and out, but she wouldn’t have been able to keep herself under control if she did. Scrunching her eyes shut, Mira tensed and with a choking gasp, her orgasm travelled up her spine in electric waves.

If she weren’t blissed out over the fact that it was Rumi that had been the one to make her come and that Rumi was her partner now, Mira would have been mortified. She wasn’t even sure if she lasted an entire minute, losing her cool like a clumsy, overexcited teenager.

***

Rumi was most definitely caught off guard.

She had barely gotten used to Mira’s taste when she heard and felt her finish, sitting up to stare dumbly as Mira as she shivered through the aftershocks.

One eye cracking open, Mira looked down at Rumi with her chest still heaving. “I’m not usually that quick, I swear.”

Rumi gave a chuckle. “Pent up?”

“Shut up.”

“What was it you said?” Rumi hummed, crawling back up Mira’s body to press a soft kiss to her jaw. “You can call me anytime, babygirl.”

Laughing, Mira shoved at Rumi. With some careful rearranging, she had them both on their sides facing each other in an eerily similar arrangement to that previous night. Uncaring of her taste on Rumi's mouth, Mira leaned in to meet her in a dragging, slow kiss. Her tongue swiped against Rumi’s lower lip, as if cleaning off the leftover slick.

“Anytime? You promise?” Mira purred. Her tone had a shiver running down Rumi’s body, the low rumbling doing funny things to her chest. Mira must have noticed her arousal stricken expression, letting out a chuckle and trailing her hands over Rumi’s shoulders and to her back, finding the clasp of her bra.

Of course with how suave Mira was, she unclasped it instantly with just one hand. Rumi’s bra was shoved off and away, the same being down with her underwear. She was a little surprised with how easy it was to go completely bare, but she supposed it was never really modesty that held her back. Mira had seen the scars. Seeing Rumi naked was nothing compared to that.

When Mira’s fingers skimmed along some of the nastier patches along her back and arms, Rumi gave a strained expression that was most definitely not pleasure. The gentle touch caused the marred skin to itch and she found herself absently squirming away before correcting herself.

“Scar tissue gets really tight. Itchy, too.” Rumi explained before Mira could make the wrong assumption. “I have to put lotion on them or they dry out really bad.”

Nodding, Mira made her touches firmer rather than withdrawing entirely. The ticklishness subsided, Rumi arching into her touch properly now.

“I can help you with that, if you want.” Mira said, nosing along where a scar crawled up Rumi’s jaw. Giving a fond huff of a laugh and a smile, Rumi guided Mira’s hand downwards.

“After. You have a different job right now.”

“Yes ma’am.”

Mira’s long fingers dipped into Rumi, one at first then another when Rumi made an impatient noise in the back of her throat.

“This isn’t my first time, you know.” Rumi panted against Mira’s shoulder. Rolling her eyes playfully, Mira began thrusting her fingers a little faster and a little rougher. “I’m not some nun.”

“To be fair, we really only have one confirmed instance of you getting laid.” Just for that remark, Rumi sunk her teeth into Mira’s lightly tanned skin, causing the rhythm of her fingers to falter for just a second.

“Feisty, feisty, feisty,” Mira muttered without any real scolding. To save her shoulder and neck from getting too chewed up, she steered Rumi’s mouth back towards her own, swallowing Rumi’s moans between the clash of lips and tongue.

Luckily for Mira, Rumi didn't have much of a longer fuse herself. She began writing in Mira’s hold, whining and moaning into her mouth as Mira maintained a steady and devastatingly deep rhythm. Her leg was hitched over Mira’s hip, pulling her closer and rolling downward to meet every thrust of Mira’s fingers. 

Eventually, Mira’s mouth alone wasn’t enough to keep her noises contained. She jammed her face into the crook of Mira’s shoulder, lips pressed tight against her skin and her nails digging brutally into Mira’s shoulder and arm. Mira hugged her tight, keeping her writhing body pressed right up against her as an orgasm crackled throughout her abdomen. Her walls squeezed and flexed around Mira’s fingers and Rumi could hear Mira whispering sweet nothings in her ear to ease her down from her peak.

“Beautiful. You did so good.” Mira said, tender and soft as she pressed soothing kisses to Rumi’s cheeks. “Thank you for letting me take care of you. I love you so much.”

“I love you, too.” Rumi responded, near automatic despite how much she was shaking. Endorphins were pumping through her body, skittering like lightning in her veins. She winced as Mira’s fingers withdrew, leaving her feeling empty.

As much as she wanted to keep the night going, Rumi did not have the stamina she had in her prime. She was already exhausted, whether it be just from the sex or the emotional experience of the entire night as a whole. Mira must have noticed her body beginning to sink, giving her a gentle nudge.

“Nuh uh. Not until we clean up a bit.” Rumi let out a grumble but dragged herself into a sitting position anyway, her breathing still heavy and eyes glassy. She moved to stand and Mira stopped her with a hand laid atop her shoulder. “No, no. I’ll grab the makeup remover and stuff. Which lotion do you use for your scars?”

“Blue bottle under the sink.” she answered, voice slurring around the edges from the post-orgasm haze.

Mira left into the bathroom, leaving Rumi feeling a little disgruntled at the decrease in warmth next to her. Luckily, Mira knew where everything was from the night she had already slept over, returning with makeup remover wipes and the blue bottle Rumi had referred to. She had already cleaned her own makeup off, doing the same for Rumi with great tenderness.

While Mira was busy with that, Rumi managed to take care of lathering lotion on the majority of her scars, quickened by years of practice. Just as she was beginning to contort to try and do the same for her back, Mira took the bottle and shook her head, motioning for Rumi to lay on her stomach.

Settling down, she heard the click of the bottle and the sound of Mira rubbing her hands together, presumably to warm the lotion. Mira’s skilled hands then pressed into her back, running all over the uneven, discolored patches and chasing away the itching tightness that always plagued her near the end of the day. It had Rumi melting into the sheets, eyes slipping closed.

She could feel how diligent and careful Mira was being, making sure to soak the lotion into every inch of her back in a way that made it feel more like a massage than a cursory rubdown. Rumi’s post orgasm trembles died away, her relaxed noises beginning to hitch in her throat. Her eyes and throat felt warm for some reason, a dampness collecting on the pillow under her face.

“Rumi, baby?” Mira’s voice came from behind her, concern hanging on her every word. “Did I hurt you?” 

“Hm? What?” Rumi’s voice came out surprisingly hoarse, her tongue feeling heavy in her mouth.

“Baby, you’re crying.”

Oh.

Blinking to clear the sudden tears away, Rumi lifted her head from the pillow and touched one of the wet trails dripping down her cheek. She looked at the dampness on her own fingertips in shock, her expression of surprise mirroring Mira’s. Suddenly, a laugh bubbled up from her throat.

“Sorry, sorry. I’m fine.” Rumi reassured Mira, sinking back onto the pillows. There was a bit of hesitation at first, but Mira resumed her ministrations across Rumi’s back, making sure to press harder against all of the tense spots. “I’m just … happy. Really happy.”

Mira gave a chuckle, leaning down to kiss the spot right behind Rumi’s ear. “Post orgasm bliss that good, huh?”

“Only because it’s you.”

Chapter Text

Once again, Mira was awake way earlier than she ever bothered usually.

Even though she had gone out and come back to spend the night with Rumi in a way she had been dreaming about, they still went to sleep at a decent hour.

God, love truly changes people, Mira thought, blinking her eyes open sluggishly. She could feel the weight of Rumi’s head on her chest and smell the scent of her shampoo wafting from the purple hair tickling her nose. Unable to help herself, she stroked the now loose hair, causing Rumi to stir into wakefulness.

“Mm, good morning.” Rumi mumbled, her hand reaching up to catch Mira’s and tangle their fingers together. It made Mira’s heart swell. “What time is it?”

Squinting, Mira looked over to the end table to where her phone was. Apparently Rumi had left hers in her purse the night before and neither of them ended up wanting to go down and get it after they finished their “activities”.

“Uh … 7:45.” Mira said, squinting even harder at her phone screen. She desperately needed to grab her eyedrops from her own purse downstairs. Her contacts were always dry as fuck first thing in the morning.

Rumi immediately bolted up, damn near elbowing Mira in the stomach.

“Shit! I need to get ready for the sitter to show up!” Rumi was nearly tripping over herself to get to her bathroom, completely naked and accidentally yanking all of the bedding halfway off of the bed.

All the precious warmth was gone, Mira was left starfished on the mattress naked and disgruntled. With a grunt, she stood up from the bed and towards the walk-in closet, getting dressed in the same spare clothes Rumi lent her before. By the time she had finished getting dressed, Rumi was bursting into the closet as well to wrestle with her work clothes.

“I have to put makeup on still and Mi-Jin’s sitter will be here in like fifteen minutes.” Rumi said, muffled as she shoved one of her signature turtlenecks over her head. Her hair was comically fluffed up when she emerged and Mira wondered if Rumi would be able to get it into a braid quick enough.

“I can wake her up and get her to brush her teeth.” Mira offered.

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah. She might get a kick out of seeing Big Mimi first thing in the morning.”

A touch of relief crossing her face, Rumi hopped up onto her toes to give Mira a quick kiss and left the closet, pulling on slacks as she walked. Mira followed, eyes landing on the necklace left of the nightstand. She picked it up, catching Rumi’s attention with a wave and gesturing for her to turn around.

As soon as Rumi’s back was to her, Mira looped the necklace around her neck and clasped it, pulling Rumi’s sleep mussed hair from under the chain. She gave Rumi a kiss on the cheek and caught her hand to give it a reassuring squeeze.

“I got this, babe. Just focus on getting ready. I’m sure Celine will be okay if you’re a little late for work.”

Leaving Rumi to finish getting ready, Mira padded down the hall towards Mi-Jin’s room. She was considering all of the fun ways she could wake Mi-Jin, whether it be singing, tickling, or just little pokes on the nose, when she opened the door and surprisingly found Mi-Jin already awake.

Her black hair was an absolute bird’s nest, a borderline haggard look on her chubby face indicating she might have also just woken up. One of her pudgy cheeks still had a pillow imprint and she was loosely clutching her blue tiger in her arms. Ever so slowly, her drowsy eyes swivelled towards Mira. Mi-Jin did a visible double take, head cocked in confusion.

“... Big Mimi?” A wide smile spread across Mira’s face.

“Good morning, Little Mimi.”

All of the sleepiness on Mi-Jin’s face disappeared in an instant. It was like she had just been electrocuted, hopping out of bed with an ecstatic squeal and nearly wiping out as she scurried towards Mira for a big hug.

“What are you doing here? Are you staying forever? Can we go get cake? Where’s Eomma?” Mi-Jin was going a mile a minute and if Mira weren’t used to her by now, she wouldn’t have had any chance in understanding the rapidfire questions.

“Eomma is getting ready now. She said your sitter will be here soon so we have to get your hair and teeth brushed.”

“Oh! You get to meet Miss Zoey!” Mi-Jin was bouncing in place, grabbing at Mira’s hand to drag her to the bathroom. “She’s super nice and has a funny looking kitty. I really like her.”

“Miss Zoey? She sounds fun.” Mira found herself amused at the coincidence, idly wondering about how her own Zoey was doing. She should really invite her out for lunch or dinner again to talk about her portrait. Or anything at all, really. She was fun to talk to in general.

First things first, though. Mira was excited to meet this new sitter who was apparently a miracle worker when it came to Mi-Jin.

As they were walking across the hall to the bathroom, Rumi called out from her bedroom.

“Hey, Mir? The sitter doesn’t have the gate code yet. If she texts my phone, can you send it to her?”

“Sure thing.” Mira replied. She helped Mi-Jin onto her step stool when they got into the bathroom and found her cute, polka dot patterned toothbrush.

“Alright, Little Mimi. Let’s brush those fangs of yours.”

Taking care of Mi-Jin like this, Mira had to wonder what it was about the kid that made maternal instinct spring from her body like a goddamn jack-in-the-box. She hated kids. All of the galleries she’d opened in Europe and Asia had a no kid policy. She only went to restaurants that didn’t allow them either.

But being with Mi-Jin, listening to her babble about the turtle facts her sitter taught her with a mouth full of oatmeal? Mira loved that little girl.

Maybe it was because Mi-Jin, minus the longstanding beef with 99% of babysitters in Korea, was an extremely well-behaved and polite child. Once she got out of her terrible two’s, Mi-Jin mellowed out significantly. She cared more about quietly drawing and doing puzzles than she did running around causing havoc.

The other reason Mira liked Mi-Jin so much is probably because she was so horrifically down bad for her mother. She saw Mi-Jin and didn’t just see her as some kid. She saw her as the kid of the love of her life, the most beautiful soul in the world, and most importantly, her partner.

So yeah, even though Mi-Jin wasn’t the best at remembering not to talk with her mouth full and it was objectively really fucking gross, Mira sat with her at the table eating some yogurt she pilfered from Rumi’s fridge listening with rapt attention.

She had Rumi’s phone on the table next to her, luckily still holding some charge from the night before. Shooting a text to “Zoey - babysitter” had been easy enough, considering Rumi used the same two passcodes for everything and also never texted anyone other than her, Bobby, or Celine. It was a quick and concise message, very Mira-esque and probably a stark difference to how proper Rumi texted.

hey this is rumi’s partner. she’s still getting ready. gate code 226.

Super fast and easy. Now all she had to do was make sure Mi-Jin didn’t choke on oatmeal while they waited.

“Big Mimi?”

“Yes, Little Mimi?” Mira responded for probably the tenth time in the past ten minutes.

“Did you and Eomma have a sleepover again?”

“Yes we did, Little Mimi.” Amongst other things, Mira thought to herself. Luckily all of the marks Rumi left were hidden by the sweater she’d borrowed.

“Are you gonna have a sleepover again tonight?” Giving a thoughtful hum, Mira stirred around her yogurt, considering the question seriously in her head.

“I don’t know. It really depends on how your Eomma feels. She might be too tired after work for another sleepover.” She could see Mi-Jin deflate a little and let out a fond laugh. Reaching out with a napkin, she dabbed some oatmeal from the corner of Mi-Jin’s mouth. “Even if it’s not tonight, I’ll still be around way more often. I moved back to Seoul for good, remember?”

Perking up, Mi-Jin gave a sage nod. “Because you love Eomma.”

Unfortunately, Mi-Jin decided to unleash that truth bomb while Mira was mid-bite, causing her to choke on yogurt of all things. She immediately started coughing, her lungs very unappreciative of being forced to inhale her breakfast.

Children were frankly terrifying sometimes in Mira’s opinion. While she had told Mi-Jin that she wanted to stay in Seoul to be around her and Rumi more, Mira deliberately left the word love out of it.

Dating someone with a kid was a delicate situation. Mira knew that. Dating someone with a kid from a loved one who had passed away was an entirely different mess to navigate. Mira had no idea how Rumi wanted to go about telling Mi-Jin about their situation and she certainly wasn’t going to try and fuck with that.

“Did Eomma tell you that?” Mira asked, finding her ability to breathe and totally red faced.

“No.” Mi-Jin answered with absolutely no elaboration.

“How do you know that?”

“I just do.”

Again, children were fucking terrifying.

“Okay!” Rumi’s voice came from the stairway, Mira turning to see her coming down them. She was in her work clothes with only enough makeup to hide her facial scars. It looked like she had elected that there wasn’t enough time for her usual braid, instead opting for a no-nonsense bun. “I think I’ve got everything I need. I’m just missing some good morning kisses from my precious baby girl!”

Rumi went right to Mi-Jin, quickly wiping her face off before peppering it with kisses. Mi-Jin was beaming the whole time, giving little giggles. When Rumi pulled away, Mi-Jin adopted a stern look and pointed at Mira.

“Her, too.”

Smiling, Mira set her spoon down and leaned towards Mi-Jin, only to be stopped by a tiny hand smushing into her face. Both Mira and Rumi looked at her extremely confused.

“You don’t want good morning kisses from Auntie Mira?” Rumi asked, head cocked and brows furrowed.

“Eomma needs to give Big Mimi good morning kisses, too.”

“Oh. Okay.” Mira must have looked like a deer in headlights, Rumi giving her a placating smile. Stepping past Mi-Jin, Rumi leaned down and gave Mira an affectionate kiss on the forehead. She turned back to Mi-Jin, getting a little nod of approval. “Better?”

“Yes.”

Going to rummage through the kitchen herself, Rumi left Mi-Jin and Mira be while Mira had her internal crisis. For some reason, that simple kiss on the forehead had Mira more flustered than any of the things they did the night before. When a knock sounded on the front door, she jolted so hard she nearly banged her knee for the second time in 24 hours.

Hearing the knocks, Mi-Jin looked excitedly over to Rumi who in turn gave an approving nod. Permission apparently given, Mi-Jin hopped down from her seat and towards the front door, unlocking and swinging it open while practically vibrating with excitement.

From the corner of her eye, Mira could see Rumi’s anxiety visibly increase, watching her wring her hands together as she awkwardly stood in the middle of the kitchen. Mira merely raised an eyebrow at her and then turned to take a look at the new miracle sitter, only to become visibly dumbfounded.

“Big Mimi, meet Miss Zoey!” Mi-Jin said, forcefully shoving Zoey towards Mira. They were both staring at each other in mild surprise and Rumi waddled up to Mira, fidgeting at her side.

“Everything okay?” Rumi asked quietly, the only person in the room not registering the tension being Mi-Jin. Mira blinked, head swivelling towards Rumi.

“I didn’t expect to recognize her, is all.” Mira said with a laugh. She expected a questioning gaze and maybe a lifted eyebrow, planning to elaborate on the funny coincidence further until Rumi’s face took a whole new expression.

Pure fear.

It was like Rumi’s face paled multiple shades in a single second, her jaw falling slack.

“You … recognize her?”

“The world is full of coincidences, I guess?” Mira tried to sound lighthearted, but it fell flat. She was extremely concerned with the way Rumi was suddenly acting and Zoey was just standing with Mi-Jin a few feet away, looking equally confused at Rumi’s behavior.

Rumi’s face quickly turned from ashen to red, grabbing Mira by the wrist.

“We’ll be right back.” she said, the words damn near choked out of her and dragged Mira towards the downstairs bathroom. She shoved her in and shut the door, turning to Mira looking like she was about to start panicking and crying.

“You promised me you weren’t going to look her up!”

“Woah. Babe.” Mira could already see Rumi’s breathing getting dangerously quick and shallow, trying to gather her up in her arms only for Rumi to squirm away, backing herself into a corner.

“You promised!” she repeated, tears actually beginning to flow. “I didn’t mean for this to happen! Bobby found her - how could I have possibly known she was the same person? I wasn’t trying to be creepy and I couldn’t just fire her after Mi-Jin ended up liking her so much and–”

“Rumi, baby,” Mira cut off her rambling, hands held up placatingly. “What are you talking about? I just thought it was a funny coincidence that Zoey is the person I commissioned for that portrait I was telling you about.”

The silence that resulted felt like it weighed a thousand pounds, Rumi’s tear stained face falling slack. Her mouth kept opening and closing as she tried to find something to say and her words started belatedly registering in Mira’s head.

I promised to not look her up? The only promise I made like that was about SunneeZee, Mira thought, feeling like she was jumping through hoops in her head. What does that have to do with …

Oh.

Oh, no fucking way.

The realization hit Mira like lightning, a disbelief so poignant causing her to lose her composure almost as badly as Rumi did.

“Zoey is SunneeZee?!” she hissed, eyes wide and near hysterical. “Like, the camgirl you said you were a fan of, SunneeZee?!”

Rumi’s hands clapped over Mira’s mouth. “No, no, no, please be quiet! I swear I didn’t – I had no idea this would happen!”

Prying Rumi’s hand away, Mira began pacing in what tiny space was available in the bathroom, going through a full existential crisis. Her mind was moving too fast for her to handle, putting together pieces of a puzzle she didn’t know she was even looking at before she could stop it.

She remembered the whole studio that didn’t look like it was ever used for painting and the sheer amount of video and photography equipment it had. The fact that Zoey said she saw a client interact with her daughter. The way Zoey had such a put together lifestyle despite the fact that she was still relatively undiscovered as an artist and didn’t appear to have any additional day job.

“Mira, please say something.” Rumi’s voice was quivering, clearly holding back full fledged sobs of panic. It immediately snapped Mira out of her daze, wrapping her arms around Rumi and squeezing her tight.

“It’s okay, it’s okay.” She stroked Rumi’s hair, trying not to fuck up its styling. “Just breathe for me, okay? No need to freak out, everything is okay.”

Gripping onto Mira’s sweater hard enough that she wouldn’t be surprised if it tore, Rumi took deep, shuddering breaths. Mira continued speaking softly to her, easing the panic away.

“I believe you. No need to panic. I love you, you’re my partner. I trust you. Okay?” Rumi’s breath hitched in a sob, but Mira could feel her nodding. “Good. Just breathe. Everything is totally fine.”

Holding Rumi until she calmed down, Mira could only think one thing.

Everything is so unbelievably fucked.

***

“... So was your Eomma not feeling well this morning, or …?”

“I dunno.” Mi-Jin answered, staring with the same amount of confusion as Zoey was towards the hallway where Rumi dragged Mira off to. After it became clear that Rumi and Mira weren’t immediately coming back, Zoey herded Mi-Jin over to the couch. When she sat down, Mi-Jin clambered into her lap and now they were just … watching and waiting.

There had to be some trigger Zoey was missing that made this a recurring thing with Rumi. She seemed to only start freaking out once Mira mentioned they already knew each other.

Which, first of all – fucking wild .

It was like the universe was trying to slam dunk on her as much as possible. So many things were coming together that Zoey felt like her brain was about to start melting out of her ears.

She squinted at a random spot on the wall, sorting through her rapidfire thoughts. Something in particular struck her harder than others.

“Oh my god, we have the same MILF.” Zoey blurted, unable to stop her mouth from moving until the words were already out. Mi-Jin looked up at Zoey, extremely confused. Realizing her mistake, Zoey quickly found a way to redirect her attention, fishing her phone out of her pocket. “Hey, I took some more pictures of Derpy last night. Do you want to see?”

Luckily, the pictures of Derpy she took of him after he fell face first into some of her blue paint was enough to distract Mi-Jin from the weird behavior of Mira and Rumi and her slip of the tongue.

Heh, I wish I could slip them on my tongue. Damn. Zoey thought, giving a single huff at a laugh at how down bad she was and how stupid her joke sounded.

Because, really. How in the world were two of the hottest women she had ever seen in her life not only within arms reach of each other, but also dating? The universe truly woke up, saw Zoey, and chose violence.

Oh, god. She totally thirsted over her Mira’s girlfriend to her face . Zoey had to fight the urge to facepalm, a little mortified about how candid she was about how much she had the hots for Rumi and her “child-bearing hips”.

It’s official. She was now going to become a nun. Anything was preferable to the useless gay she was now. Could nuns still be camgirls? She only did solo streams so it wasn’t like she was fucking. Although the church may frown upon the handful of times she had hookups in the backseat of her car in the parking lot of her high school.

Alright, so nunhood was probably a no.

“Sorry about that.” Mira’s voice sounded from the hallway and Zoey turned to see her and Rumi coming down the hall, Mira looking somewhat composed and Rumi looking very much not . Zoey swore it looked like Rumi had been crying. “Rumi just felt a little nauseous for a second.”

“Oh. Are you going to be staying home today?”

“No! No.” Rumi said, a touch too loud and forceful. Her face was bright red and Zoey watched Mira reach out and rub her back soothingly. “I’m fine. Bobby should be here any second.” Rumi turned to Mira, giving her a quick peck and then went to Mi-Jin, giving her daughter a kiss atop her head. She scurried over to grab her purse, saying a rushed goodbye as she departed through the front door. Zoey could only watch kind of dumbfounded, look at Mira to see she had a matching look on her face.

There was a bit of awkward silence, all of them staring at the door where Rumi had retreated. Eventually, Zoey couldn’t stand it anymore, turning to Mira.

“So, fancy meeting you here.”

Mira immediately let out a snort, the tension somewhat dissolved.

“Crazy small world, I guess.”

Mi-Jin looked rapidly between them. “Wait. You know Miss Zoey?”

“Miss Zoey is making a big painting for me.” Mira rounded the couch, sitting on the other end. Mi-Jin crawled out of Zoey’s lap and into hers. Zoey could quickly surmise that her and Mira had a much longer standing relationship.

“I think I owe you a bit of an apology.” Zoey decided to rip the bandaid off, Mira giving a questioning hum. “For the comments I made about, y’know, my client that I liked.”

“Oh, that? I was doing the exact same thing and your takes were objectively correct.” Mira said with a laugh. A similar one came from Zoey, her face a little red from embarrassment. “It’s no biggie. You have good taste.”

“Is she, like … okay?”

“She’s fine. She has really bad anxiety sometimes. Don’t worry about it.” Mira said, a tad cryptic and shaking her head. Zoey pursed her lips but nodded, eying the front door warily.

With a deep sigh, Mira lifted Mi-Jin from her lap. “Unfortunately, I can’t stay. I have some meetings I need to do back in the city.”

“But you can stay and play with me and Miss Zoey!” Mi-Jin pouted, making grabby hands towards Mira to lure her back towards the couch. Mira merely ruffled her hair and moved to gather her things.

“Don’t worry. I’ll see you again soon.” Mira slung her purse over her shoulder, fully content to steal a pair of Rumi’s house slippers rather than put on her heels again while wearing basically pajamas. She gave Mi-Jin a kiss atop her head then turned to Zoey and gave a little wave. “I’ll be seeing you around, too.”

“Yeah. Sounds good.” Zoey waved back, feeling a little dazed at the cognitive whiplash of the past ten minutes. Something in Mira’s smile sharpened and right before she closed the front door, she shot Zoey a wink.

It felt like a punch directly to her little gay brain.

Absently feeling Mi-Jin’s weight clamber into her lap again, Zoey automatically wrapped her arms around her. That theoretically mental image of Rumi and Mira on either side of her like a sandwich went from a fleeting thought to ultra 4K HD, causing her heart to quicken and her face to heat up.

Oh. Oh no. She thought, staring blankly and barely registering Mi-Jin starting to ramble about something.

I am fucked .

Chapter Text

When Mira got back to her apartment, she felt like she had been gone for 12 weeks rather than 12 hours.

She kicked off her stolen slippers and padded to the living room, sagging onto the couch and staring at the ceiling. Her mind was going a mile a minute and when she turned her head and saw the blank spot on the wall specifically made for her portrait, it got even faster.

“What the fuck?” she asked aloud, knowing full well there were no answers to be found. She felt like she needed to stare at the wall for the next 2-3 business days or at least crack a bottle of whiskey open and chug half of it.

It was so hard to figure out if the whole Rumi/SunneeZee/Zoey situation was a good or bad thing.

It was just … a thing.

But … it could definitely become a really good thing.

The little scheming voice in the back of Mira’s head started chattering, filling her with ideas of varying moral integrity.

She could lock this knowledge in a box and stow it away like she never knew about Zoey’s side hustle (the camming one, not the babysitting one) and try and proceed as normal with her new relationship with Rumi. That would theoretically be the easiest, even if she fully expects Rumi to try and spiral at every opportunity.

But then there was Zoey.

Funny, bubbly, and objectively beautiful Zoey. Amazing at art and taking care of Mi-Jin, Zoey. It wasn’t hard to see how Rumi got sucked in with her allure and personality, especially remembering the laughs they shared on their ramyeon “date” and the little photo session at Zoey’s apartment.

The photo session that took place likely where Zoey did sexual stuff on camera to who knows how many viewers.

Fuuuuuuck. Mira could feel the pinching of a migraine start behind her eyes, dragging her palms down her face and groaning.

It was risky, but she already had ideas about where this could go. She never was one for mathematics, but the equations were already solving themselves in her head.

Rumi was attracted to Zoey. Zoey is attracted to (and says she has a crush on) Rumi. Mira is in love with Rumi and is her partner. What little time she’s spent with Zoey thus far made it startlingly clear that falling for Zoey would probably be the easiest thing in the world to happen.

The whole concept was a rough sketch, but Mira had long since learned to see the potential for drafts to become masterpieces.

Standing up from the couch, she marched to her office to find one of her memo pads lying around, ripping away whatever legalese nonsense that had been scribbled on it before. Uncapping a sharpie with her teeth, she wrote in big letters on the page and then pinned it to a cork board. It only took a few moments to clear away the rest of the contents on the board, now able to focus and brainstorm on the most important plan she’d ever made in her life.

OPERATION: MILF SANDWICH

Ingredients: ME, RUMI, ZOEY(???)

She took a step back and stared at the single page, lips pursed in thought. Was she really going to do this? She just got to where she wanted with Rumi after years of careful navigation. There was the smallest kindling of hesitation, but she stamped it down, staying resolute.

Puffing her chest out and crossing her arms, she stared down the corkboard waiting to be filled with her masterful planning. 

“Let’s fucking do this.”

***

“Are you sure you’re not upset or offended or anything?” Zoey asked, for probably the hundredth time in the past two hours. Mira just laughed and shook her head.

“I told you, it’s fine. One, it’s not like you knew and two, it’s not like you said anything that wasn’t objectively correct.”

Still, anxiety writhed in Zoey’s stomach remembering all of the things she said about Rumi to Rumi’s actual fucking girlfriend. Not only did the universe curse her to be terribly down bad, now it was making her trip over her own feet because of it.

She at least felt a little calmer now that a few days had passed and that awkward morning was becoming more and more the past, but she still had to look Mira in the eyes and know that she told her to her face that she wouldn’t mind using Rumi’s thighs as earmuffs.

Not that she used Rumi’s name, but still. Maybe she needed to learn to be less horny on main and save that shit for Tuesdays and Fridays.

And to add to the mess, things still felt weird around the whole PurpleTiger226 thing! Zoey kept seeing little details around her that made her keep thinking about it. She had tried to force herself to move past her most generous viewer poofing from existence, but then she would see Mi-Jin’s tiger plushie or remember Rumi’s gate code. She swore she was being haunted by PurpleTiger226 now.

Taking a deep breath, Zoey redirected her attention back to the situation at hand - Mira.

She had gotten a text from Mira that morning, at first thinking it might be to discuss specifics about the commission and its progress. It turned out to be nothing of the sort - just Mira inviting Zoey for a casual day out so they could talk and have fun. Mira had admitted that their ramyeon detour from their first meeting was kind of the most fun she’d had in awhile and Zoey found herself easily agreeing.

“ Plus, there’s more than one way to invest in an artist you like.” Mira had said on their drive into town. “I’ll be damned if I let you burn yourself out when you have so much potential.”

God, hearing that made Zoey feel invincible. Like she’d made it. Even if it was way too early to tell what would happen, the amount of confidence she had in her work had practically tripled within a few weeks.

“So,” Zoey began, trying to keep the conversation going as they strolled down the sidewalk, boba in hand. Mira had gotten Thai milk tea while Zoey had gotten taro milk tea. “You and Rumi are a recent thing, kind of?”

“Officially, yes. We didn’t have a label before.” Mira answered, idly studying every shop window they passed as they maintained their leisurely pace. “A lot of things had to be sorted out first. Shit like travelling, past relationships, a whole ass kid, and the like.”

Past relationships? Mira was probably referring to Rumi’s late husband in the lightest way possible, Zoey figured.

Suddenly, Mira was looking at Zoey and not the window displays. “What about you?”

“What? What do you mean?”

“What about your love life? You got anything going on in that department?”

“Oh! Uh,” Zoey gave an awkward laugh, fighting the urge to chew on her straw. It was a nervous habit of hers. Many pencils had been destroyed in her custody. “No, not really. I don’t get out much and I’m always working, so …” she trailed off, Mira merely quirking an eyebrow at her.

“So?”

“So yes, I am painfully single.” Zoey huffed with exaggerated indignance. Mira let out a sympathetic hum.

“Babysitting and art keep you that busy? Or do you have some other random job I don’t know about.”

Hah. Well. Yeah.

“Nope!” Zoey managed to answer without batting an eyelash, like an absolute liar. She swore she could see Mira’s eyes narrow a fraction. When she looked again, Mira’s face was as normal and cool as it was before. “Unless you count looking after Derpy. Sometimes he’s harder to take care of than some of the kids I babysit.”

“Are you sure? Mi-Jin can be a lot.”

“Excuse you!” Zoey gasped, feeling offended on Mi-Jin’s behalf. “She is a perfect angel who has never done anything wrong like, ever . I demand you retract that statement.”

A single snort of a laugh escaped Mira, almost making her choke on her tea. Her smile turned sharp, looking down at Zoey with nothing but bad intentions. “You’re just saying that because you think her mom is hot as fuck.”

Immediately, Zoey could feel her face heat up, knowing she probably looked like a tomato. She gave Mira a shove, causing her to laugh harder. “I’m never telling you anything, ever! And I am totally unbiased about Mi-Jin!”

“Are you totally unbiased about Rumi?” Mira shoved Zoey back, albeit with very little strength. Zoey’s shoulders hunched upwards and she gave in to the urge to angrily gnaw on her straw.

“I plead the fifth.” she grumbled, mashing the thin plastic between her teeth.

“I have no idea what that means.”

“American thing.”

“Ah. Okay.”

They fell back into their easy stride, Zoey absolutely destroying her flimsy straw to the point where she wasn’t even sure the boba would be able to get through. She gave a slurp to test it out, pleased that it only took a little bit more effort than it should and chewed happily on the sugary gelatin.

“I wouldn’t mind, you know.” Mira said, not really breaking the silence but gently urging it away. Zoey made a questioning noise, causing Mira to clarify. “You being ‘unbiased’ towards Rumi. She’s an amazing person who has a habit of denying herself nice things. I think you would have fun getting to know her more.”

Zoey wanted to ask where the hell this was coming from, Mira sounding eerily like she was trying to be a wingman for her girlfriend and commissioned artist/tentative friend. She chose not to, worried she was overthinking it like she did with everything else.

“I mean, I wouldn’t mind talking to her more. I actually was a big fan of hers growing up.” Zoey said, swirling her tea around and watching the boba float at the bottom of her cup. “I don’t think she likes me all that much, though.”

“Why’s that?”

“Well, that morning when we all met? That was the second time she’s locked herself in the bathroom at the sight of me.” Zoey laughed at the memory, but it was entirely humorless. “She doesn’t really talk to or look at me that much. I think she just tolerates me because Mi-Jin likes me.”

Mira looked like she wanted to interject, but Zoey kept going, falling into her habit of rambling.

“I don’t know if it’s something I did when I first met her or something. Like, did she find out I was a fan and thinks I’m creepy? I totally had posters of her in my bedroom when I was a teenager and kinda sorta still own them, but I swear I’m trying to be normal about it! I took the job to take care of Mi-Jin, not fangirl over the Rumi. She was practically my gay awakening but I keep reminding myself that she’s just a normal person, too and I feel like I might not be doing as good of a job as I think and now she thinks I’m a weird, obsessive fan, you know?”

They had actually ended up stopping somewhere in the middle of Zoey’s word vomit, Mira looking mildly perturbed at the sudden onslaught of information. Taking a careful step towards Zoey, Mira placed her hand gently on her shoulder.

“I can assure you that absolutely none of that is the case.”

“Are you sure?” Zoey’s voice bordered on a whine. Mira nodded.

“I can’t give much away because that’s Rumi’s business, but she likes you. A lot. You’ve been a godsend for her and Mi-Jin.” Hand sliding from Zoey’s shoulder to the small of her back, Mira gave her a gentle nudge so they could resume their stroll. Her hand stayed there, a warm presence Zoey could feel through her t-shirt. “Like I said, Rumi has a habit of denying herself nice things. She gets all twisted in knots trying to be flawless and professional that she just starts tweaking out.”

“So she likes me so much that she gets stunlocked?”

“I don’t know what that means, either. But sure, let’s go with that.”

***

Zoey took Mira’s advice.

It was scary as hell, given that Rumi was still very much the Rumi Zoey had idolized during her formative (and admittedly recent) years, but she just had to keep reminding herself that Mira said Rumi was … what was it she said?

“A ball of anxiety with doe eyes and a beautiful smile.”

Ah, yes. That was it.

That had been what really drove home Zoey’s determination to get to know Rumi better. She wanted to see that smile for herself, dammit! She had only ever gotten a look at it secondhand, when Rumi would come home and sweep Mi-Jin into her arms. Zoey wanted to experience it head-on, directed at her. Not the grimace she swore Rumi gave whenever they made eye contact.

Her first tactic was having more cooking lessons with Mi-Jin.

There were a lot of benefits to those that weren’t for the sake of getting close to Rumi. It was extremely beneficial for Mi-Jin, too.  Cooking and baking with Mi-Jin helped her practice reading when Zoey asked her to read out the recipe while they worked and she was getting better at counting when it came to measuring ingredients. Zoey even started teaching her the English words for some of the food they made.

The look of gleeful shock on Rumi’s face when Mi-Jin presented her with a muffin and proudly said “Blueberry!” in English was something Zoey would remember forever.

Of course, Rumi would have to sit down and try whatever they made for her under Mi-Jin’s watchful eye. This gave Zoey an opportunity to sit with her and chat about whatever random things happened in the day while she ate.

Within two days, Rumi stopped grimacing.

In a week, she gave small smiles.

At the two week mark, Zoey managed to get a genuine laugh out of Rumi.

With every single development, Zoey was either texting Mira or telling her in person whenever Mira would sweep her away for their now regular hangout sessions. Mira would listen with rapt attention, a huge smile on her face as Zoey would ramble on with her mouth full of whatever food they went out to eat.

Sometimes she worried she was being a bit too much about everything. Was she absolutely gushing about her crush to the person dating her crush? Probably.

Mira didn’t seem to mind, though.

And Mira herself was also doing a number on Zoey’s heart. Bonding over art became bonding over Rumi to bonding over … anything and nothing at all, really. They both talked to each other about their families, their childhoods, how they got interested in art, and just whatever else came to mind.

After a lunch meeting turned into a trip to a nearby arcade which turned into a competition to see who could win the largest plushie, all on Mira’s dime, Zoey realized something.

She was crushing on Mira, too.

That was a brand new internal crisis Zoey went through while she was in the shower that night, wondering why the universe cursed her to be so gay. All she could do was curl up in her bed with Derpy and her three new massive plushies and wonder what the fuck she was supposed to do with all of her pathetic pining before it killed her.

And then there was PurpleTiger226.

Honestly, she should have moved on by now. It was just a random viewer, a faceless username in the sea of randoms. She still made more than enough money, but the silence just felt … wrong.

It was dumb. It was stupid. It was driving her crazy.

Unfortunately, she knew she wasn’t going to be able to move on without some closure. She sat at her streaming PC for a solid fifteen minutes in silence, building up her resolve as she stared at the Lovely Cams site. Taking a deep breath, she opened a feature she had never, ever used before.

Private messaging.

She had received plenty before, but she had never sent one. All of her interactions as SunneeZee happened live on her streams. No DMs, no private shows, no nothing that didn’t have an audience. It was just easier that way.

But she had to try. PurpleTiger226 had been such a constant in this part of her life that it was impossible to quietly move on.

Just one message. If PurpleTiger226 never responded, that would be that and Zoey would let herself enjoy everything else without a second thought.

***

With Mi-Jin sleeping and no plans to go into the office the next day, Rumi sat in her living room and just … existed peacefully.

She couldn’t remember the last time she’d felt so content with everything, not worrying about next steps or future promises.

Zoey was still doing wonderfully with Mi-Jin, even starting to trade the “Miss Zoey” for “Auntie Zoey”, much to Zoey’s delight. Every once in a while, Rumi would hear Mi-Jin say a random thing in English or practice counting various objects around the house and it would cause warmth to bloom in her chest. Zoey became just Zoey and not some hidden shame of Rumi’s.

Her relationship with Mira was going wonderfully, even in its technical infancy. Mira made loving and being loved easy, somehow making Rumi forget a lifetime of self-doubt and harsh expectations. Every other night, Mira was staying over for dinner and then crawling into bed with Rumi, showering her with affection that Rumi gladly reciprocated.

Life was good.

Then her phone chimed.

She unlocked it and opened the notification without a second thought, seeing a new email in her personal inbox. When she actually read it, she almost did an actual spit take of the wine she was sipping on.

You have a private message from SunneeZee! Open Lovely Cams to read it now.

She’d been meaning to unsubscribe from email notifications, delete her account, anything to close that chapter. She just hadn’t gotten around to it.

She should have deleted the email. Ignored it. Anything but tiptoe up to her office and open up the website for the first time in weeks. She opened the message, hands shaking and feeling a cold sweat on the back of her neck.

Hi PurpleTiger226!

I wanna thank you so much for your longtime support! Seeing your messages on my streams made me smile every time.

I don’t wanna be creepy or intrusive or anything, but I noticed you haven’t been online for awhile and I just wanna make sure everything is okay.

I thought maybe you might be busy on my scheduled streams, so I wanted to reach out and offer you a private show as thanks, that way it can be at whatever time works for you!

As you know, I don’t do private shows soooo like … don’t advertise this or whatever because I’ll totally deny it.

Anyway, I hope I can hear from you!

Xx SunneeZee

Rumi reread it at least a dozen times. She wasn’t sure how much time had passed. Her head felt like it was full of TV static.

Why in the world would she send this? Surely she was getting paid enough with their babysitting contract to cover the majority of the lost income from Rumi no longer donating to her streams.

Was it not enough? Was Zoey desperate for cash to the point where she would break one of her most important rules when it came to her viewers?

“How much for a private show?” SunneeZee was reading off of the rapidly moving chat, still a little flushed and breathing heavily from her last orgasm. A slick covered vibrator lay on the bed next to her. “Sorry guys! No can do. It’s the stream or nothing. You’ll just have to get used to sharing.”

Something must have happened. Maybe her car broke down or a family member got sick.

Whatever it was, Rumi couldn’t just sit there and ignore it. She owed so much to Zoey already. Mi-Jin was the happiest she’d ever been and was blossoming under Zoey’s care.

If Zoey needed help and this was the only way Rumi could give it … so be it.

Rumi hit the reply button, trying to not feel like she was making a huge mistake.

Chapter Text

For some reason, Zoey was more nervous for a show than she’d ever been.

Even more than when she first started and the thought of taking her shirt off on stream made her nerves so bad, that her hands were almost shaking.

She realized, as she was adjusting her tripod, her hands were actually shaking.

Thank goodness she ended up not doing anything fancy with her makeup. She was still just wearing the natural look she put on for going out with Mira earlier that day. When she was talking back and forth with PurpleTiger226 to plan the private show, she offered them all of the control.

Not only did she let PurpleTiger226 pick the time (they luckily didn’t pick a time where she would be busy babysitting Mi-Jin), she also offered to let PurpleTiger pick out her outfit, her makeup, her hairstyle, what toys she would use, and even gave them the option to choose what color bedsheets they wanted her on.

She had been fully prepared to go full glam in a super sexy but wildly impractical costume as well as having to pull out half of her toy collection. The answers she got from PurpleTiger226 ended up being … actually kind of sweet.

Just wear whatever you would if you were winding down for the day. I don’t need anything fancy. As long as you’re comfortable and cozy, that’s fine with me.

It was shocking but not unwelcome. At the very least, Zoey didn’t wash her makeup from the day off, even if she had a sneaking suspicion PurpleTiger226 wouldn’t mind her bare-faced. Maybe they were going for a more fly on the wall kind of fantasy? Either way, she wasn’t complaining about being able to lounge in her stream room wearing an oversized t-shirt and simple panties instead of some strappy, lace monstrosity of a getup.

The lack of needing to prepare also meant that Zoey was ready much earlier than she intended, sprawled out on her stomach on her streaming bed flipping through social media in a mindless haze. It was the only thing she could do to keep her mind off on the anxiety lurking in her chest.

Things were good. This was the last snag in her life that she needed to straighten out. She’d get her peace of mind back about this one particular viewer and could go on happily painting, hanging out with Mira, and taking care of precious Mi-Jin.

And Rumi.

Taking care of Mi-Jin was basically taking care of her, right? Rumi always seemed so touched whenever she would be presented with a drawing Zoey and Mi-Jin worked on or whatever snack they made while she was away. Even though Rumi was older than her by a decade, Zoey just wanted to wrap her up in a blanket and tell her to relax, to sit back and be looked after.

According to Mira, that was a big issue with Rumi. Always stretching herself too thin and too far, putting herself last and running on fumes. It made Zoey want to figure out a way to linger long enough to cook Rumi a nice dinner rather than little snacks.

A chirping alarm on her phone jolted Zoey out of her Rumi-centric thoughts. She had set it earlier for five minutes before showtime, just enough time to open up the camsite and deal with light troubleshooting, should it be needed.

Admittedly, Zoey had very little clue of how this section of the site worked. She could navigate chatroom commands and alert parameters like a pro, but making sure her video was on during a private call? A little out of her purview.

Luckily the site was meant to be operated by people who excelled in taking off their clothes on camera and not software engineers, meaning that it wasn’t too hard to figure out. Zoey had the new tab opened in no time, seeing herself on the preview portion while the screen meant to show PurpleTiger226 stayed blank, waiting for them to log on.

Zoey had been staring so intently at that big grey box saying “OFFLINE” that when it flickered to black and showed PurpleTiger226’s username instead, she jolted a bit. She waited a few seconds to see if they would use the private show’s feature to turn on their own cam, but they never did. They didn’t even use their mic.

“Are you there?” Zoey asked, nervously fiddling with the hem of her oversized t-shirt. “You should have the ability to use your mic and camera – if you want, that is.”

There was a brief pause, just long enough to be awkward, before words appeared in the chat box.

PurpleTiger226: I don’t think I’m comfortable with that. I’m sorry.

Zoey brightened up, enough to see her own wide smile on the tiny camera preview. “Oh! That’s totally fine. This is your show, after all.” She shifted a bit on the bed, used to having at least a dozen messages suggesting what she should do next rather than a near empty chatbox and single faceless person.

Clearing her throat, she tried to adopt a nonchalant posture. “So! You never said what you wanted to see tonight. Any toys, positions, anything like that you want to see?”

The chatroom showed that PurpleTiger226 was typing. And then not. And then typing again. And then not. A full minute had to have gone by. Zoey wondered if they were as nervous as her, but the thought of that seemed absurd. PurpleTiger226 was anonymous and rich as hell. This was just casual fun for them, probably.

“You’re a girl, right? Or woman, more accurately.” Zoey decided to … break the ice somewhat. At least to get PurpleTiger226 talking so she wouldn’t be stuck staring at a blank screen and waiting.

PurpleTiger226: Yes, I am.

“Older or younger?”

Another long pause.

PurpleTiger226: Older.

PurpleTiger226: Sorry. I don’t think I want to say much more.

“That’s okay.” Zoey said, giving a wave of her hand. Now she could imagine a human being behind the username, despite how vague the information was. “I was just thinking that your username might be awkward to say out loud. Maybe ‘unnie’ works better?”

PurpleTiger226: That’s fime

PurpleTiger226: *fone

PurpleTiger226: **fine

The urge to make a joke about typing one-handed was strong, but Zoey managed to keep it in. She had PurpleTiger talking and didn’t want to risk discouraging that.

“Okay. We don’t have to focus on anything like that. I am curious, though,” Zoey lounged on the bed, propping her head up on one bent knee. If the pose happened to cause her shirt to ride up and flash her panties to the camera, then all the better. “What made you start watching me? You’ve been a regular viewer for a while.”

PurpleTiger226: It’s complicated.

“Hm. Okay then.” Zoey tried to not let her disappointment show, merely pursing her lips for a second and then moving on. Reaching up, she pulled out the hair ties keeping her messy space buns together. Shaking her head, her hair tumbled down over her shoulders and her scalp had that residual ache from being pulled up all day.

Giving herself a moment to enjoy the feeling of her hair loose, she decided to get straight to the point. PurpleTiger226 wasn’t proving to be much of a conversationalist.

“So, what did you want to see?” She asked. The screen indicated that PurpleTiger226 was typing, so she remained patient. For all she knew, PurpleTiger226 had a very specific fantasy that required a lot of writing. She merely sat patiently, humming a nonsensical tune to herself. Eventually, the message came through and she perked up, eagerly leaning forward to take in every word.

PurpleTiger226: Just do whatever you would do on your own to feel nice. You don’t have to perform or anything.

PurpleTiger226: I want you to be able to relax and take care of yourself.

What a sweet talker. Zoey thought, a quaint little smile lifting the corners of her lips. She’d always had the feeling PurpleTiger226 was a bit of a sweetheart, between the kind messages and the generous donations. While others would be typing every salacious demand in full detail, PurpleTiger226 would ask how she felt, notice if she looked a little tired, and compliment things like her makeup and hair rather than her genitals.

Not that she minded the other option, but the variety was nice.

“Hm. Okay, then! I can definitely do that. Let me go ahead and get comfy.”

Gathering up all of the decorative pillows, Zoey arranged them into a nice pile she could lean back on, lounging with her legs strategically falling open towards the camera. She considered eying the camera, narrating her actions or whatever fantasy PurpleTiger226 might have, but ultimately decided that less was more.

So she let her eyes fall shut. Ran her hands down her body and lingered on her tits to give them an indulgent squeeze. She did exactly as her viewer requested – no performing, nothing over the top. Her body was already responding positively, the subtle knowledge that she was being quietly watched helping amp up her arousal.

One hand still kneading at her chest, the other slid down, hitching up her shirt enough to press two fingers against her clit over her simple panties. She didn’t rub circles onto it or anything, just applied enough pressure for it to give a warm throb under her touch. When her nipples began to harden under her shirt, she gave a light pinch to one and let out a breathy sigh at the heat that slid down her spine from the sensation.

It was a slow crawl of fingers across her skin, hitching up her shirt, dipping underneath her panties to slide through the gathering slick before dragging them off and away. She didn’t pay attention to the passing of time or what she looked like in the viewfinder.

Most importantly, she let her mind wander.

Vague images danced across the backs of her eyelids. The sensation of another warm body against her and the soft slide of skin against skin. The wet press of lips against hers and the hot drag of a tongue soothing stinging bites.

As she pressed her fingers inside, she imagined that they were longer, more slender. The faint glimpses of a sharp smile flashed in her mind along with the ticklish sensation of long, pink hair brushing across her cheeks and shoulders.

Fuck. Bad Zoey. Don’t fantasize about your not single commissioner. She chided herself internally, force resetting her train of thought as her ministrations faltered for a moment. In a bit of frustration, she sat up enough to whip her shirt off, leaving herself completely bare.

Settling back in, she spread her legs wider and forewent fingering to just rub at her clit and chase away the thought of Mira’s hands. She pinched a nipple a little harder, almost like a punishment if it didn’t send a hot bolt of arousal straight to her abdomen.

Focus. Relax. Take care of yourself.

Zoey massaged at her clit just the way she knew she liked it, giving her reddened nipples a break to squeeze as the softness of her own breasts. She always had more of an hourglass shape, made more obvious by her short stature. It wasn’t like painting and babysitting was the most effective workout, fat-burning wise.

But that was fine with her! She knew plenty of people found a little extra plumpness attractive and she was no different. It gave her more to sink her fingers into and stretch marks gave a perfect path to trace with fingers and tongues.

All the sudden, long purple hair came to mind and she let out a high pitched moan before she could stop herself. Once she realized what happened, she screwed her eyes shut and bit her bottom lip hard enough that she was surprised she didn’t bleed. Her heart hammered in her chest and she wanted to smack herself for her traitorous, inappropriate thoughts. She tried to push them away, but they kept blaring on repeat.

Tall, pink, sharp.

Soft, purple, sweet.

They twisted together, each taking up half of her skull and leaving her pressed scorching hot in the middle. Without realizing, the rubbing at her clit sped up and her other hand groped stronger and more merciless, introducing the bite of nails into the mix.

Warm, brown doe eyes. Another set, narrow and cutting like a razorblade. Silk and steel.

Tongue and teeth.

Quiet moans and rumbling growls.

And Zoey in the middle, pulled in like the undertow, gasping and chest heaving and –

Her orgasm was soul-shattering.

She had gotten so caught up in her fantasy that she hadn’t realized how close she was. The moans she was letting out were somehow more indecent than when she was playing it up for the viewers. She had never been able to make herself cum this hard for a show.

It took a few moments for her breath to steady and her head to feel like it wasn’t full of cotton. She almost forgot entirely about her one person audience. Almost.

Sitting up, she glanced at the chatbox, seeing no new messages since before she started pleasuring herself.

“... Unnie?” She called out, voice sounding wrecked. She haphazardly wiped her hand off on her discarded shirt. “Are you still there?”

A long pause.

PurpleTiger226: Yes, I’m here.

“Oh, good!” Zoey could feel her smile stretch across her face, feeling like she was on cloud nine. It had been a good orgasm. “Was that what you were hoping for?”

PurpleTiger226: Yes. It was amazing.

PurpleTiger226: You always are.

PurpleTiger226: Thank you.

“Awh, you’re welcome!” Somehow this faceless woman had Zoey’s heart fluttering. She chose to blame it on the post-nut endorphins making her brain feel like cotton candy. “I should be the one thanking you. You’ve given me so much support. I feel like I can’t thank you enough.”

PurpleTiger226: I just want to make sure you’re doing well.

PurpleTiger226: I’m sorry.

“Sorry about what?”

PurpleTiger226: I can’t watch your streams anymore.

Something heavy and cold settled in Zoey’s chest. Her shoulders sagged and her brows pinched together, voice going from airy to concerned. “Are you busy on my usual times? We can do more private shows, if you want.”

PurpleTiger226: No. I can’t do anymore shows.

PurpleTiger226: This was the last one.

PurpleTiger226: I’m sorry. Thank you for everything, Zee.

PurpleTiger226 has donated $50,000!

Before Zoey could even react, PurpleTiger226 disconnected, leaving her stunned, confused, and speechless. She could see herself in the viewfinder, naked, flushed, and absolutely dumbfounded.

She had no idea a person could even donate that much on the site. A part of her wanted to fixate on that heart-stopping number, but the other wanted to reach out towards the camera as if she could catch PurpleTiger226 by the arm to keep her from running away.

Taking a shaky breath, Zoey reached for the mouse, hitting the “end show” button and feeling hollow.

***

Mira had just been finishing up going through a mind-numbing stack of paperwork, her glasses slipping down her nose and the legalese beginning to turn to alphabet soup before her eyes. Just as she was about to shut her brain off and drag her tired body to bed, her phone began pinging with text messages.

She could have ignored it, but it was the specific notification sound she had assigned for Rumi. She’d sooner bite her own hands off than miss Rumi trying to get ahold of her for something important.

Squinting, Mira quickly typed out a reply before Rumi could keep sending more messages, already seeing the grey dots moving again.

Panic immediately flared in Mira’s chest. She jabbed the call button, not willing to wait for Rumi to type whatever must be horrible wrong. Rumi picked up before the first ring finished.

“Hey, what’s wrong? Is Mi-Jin okay?” Mira asked, lightning fast. She didn’t even give Rumi a chance to speak first.

“What? No. Yes. I mean,” Rumi’s voice sounded tense, like she was fraying at the edges and barely holding on. “Everything is fine. I just … I just really want you to come over.”

“I mean, I’d be glad to. But why?”

“... You said I could call you anytime.”

At first, Mira was confused. Her already tired brain was working overtime, feeling like it was vibrating in her skull. She squinted hard at a random spot on the wall, desperately trying to figure out what the hell Rumi meant. It hit her all at once.

Oh.

“... Is this a booty call?”

Rumi’s reply was mostly sputtering and half formed excuses, Mira easily imagining how red her face was.

“It’s just – I mean, I-” Rumi abruptly cut herself off, taking a deep, trembling breath. “Yes. It’s a booty call. Can you come over?”

To Mira, the answer was obvious. Within minutes, she had her shoes on and keys in hand, telling Rumi she’d be there ASAP.

Was it a little pathetic, jumping to her feet with zero hesitation at the promise of sex? Maybe. But this was a promise of sex with Rumi, the love of her life. Of course she’s going to drop everything to help out her horny partner!

It was definitely concerning, the amount of traffic laws she probably broke on the drive to Rumi’s house, but she could not find it in herself to give a single fuck.

Over the past few weeks, Rumi had gotten a lot more confident about sex and initiating it. It was never in a super obvious way, but Mira luckily knew how to read her like a book. Rumi would skim her hands further up Mira’s thighs, arch a little deeper into her touch, and let out the sweetest little whimper and within minutes, they’d be tangled up in Rumi’s bed, using each other’s mouths to muffle their moans.

Whatever had Rumi wound up must have gotten her bad, to have her call Mira way past her normal tired mom bedtime. The worst part is that her bedtime was rubbing off, Mira finding her eyelids getting heavy after 10pm nowadays.

Luckily, that phone call had her wide awake within seconds. Via her enthusiasm and blatant disregard for the speed limit, she was in Rumi’s driveway and at her front door in a concerningly little amount of time. She skipped knocking entirely, using her own key to open the door and quietly shutting it behind her while she toed her shoes off. Stepping further into the house, she found Rumi, face flushed and tense, sitting on the couch nervously wringing her hands.

“H-Hey.” Rumi said, so wound up that she sounded damn near tears. “You got here fast.”

Seeing Rumi so flustered and eagerly waiting was doing terrible, wicked things to Mira’s brain. In lieu of answering, she rushed up to the couch to sit down and haul Rumi into her lap. Her hips were soon bracketed by Rumi’s thick thighs clad in soft pajama pants and her fingers were tangled harshly in purple hair as she kissed Rumi like she was starving for it.

The kiss was extremely reciprocated, Rumi letting out a needy, wanton moan that reverberated nicely against Mira’s tongue. It was sloppy and rushed, the two immediately beginning to rut against each other like hormonal teenagers. Rumi ended up dislodging their mouths only to wrench Mira’s shirt up and off, looking positively feral upon finding out Mira wasn’t wearing a bra.

Tongue and teeth clashed again, the scant air between them like scorching hot lightning as hands tugged and yanked at clothes with little regard to the fact that they were still in the living room. All of the decorative pillows on the couch had tumbled onto the floor, making room for the two to sprawl out onto, Rumi shoving Mira onto her back and crawling atop her. Hand straying downward, Mira dipped her fingers between Rumi’s legs, finding her absolutely drenched and making a surprised noise.

“What’s got you so riled up?” Mira managed between brutal kisses and heaving breaths. Her fingers slid so easily across Rumi’s clit, making it difficult to press down on the swollen bud. A trembling whine left Rumi’s lips, her hips grinding down against Mira’s hand.

“I just need you.” she panted, pupils completely blown and a flush climbing all the way down her neck. “Can I sit on your face? Please?”

“Only because you asked so prettily.”

And the sounds she made after she lowered herself down on Mira’s mouth? Absolutely gorgeous in comparison. Mira had seen all kinds of talented performers and beautiful works of art during her travels, but nothing could compare to the masterpiece Rumi was above her, singing sweeter than all the angels in heaven as she rode Mira’s tongue.

Please, for the love of god, let the kid be a heavy sleeper.

Mira knew by the way all of Rumi’s muscles trembled that she wouldn’t last very long. What she hadn’t expected was Rumi to still be so desperate after her first orgasm.

And then the second.

And then the third.

They were all honestly blending together, Mira having gotten two of her own when Rumi pistoned three fingers into her with her tongue on Mira’s clit and didn’t stop until Mira had to push her head away. All those years of classical ballet training her parents put her through had nothing on the workout Rumi was giving her.

“What happened–” Mira said, panting as she tried to catch her breath. “-to the whole ‘tired mom’ thing you always complain about?”

“Tired old mom.” Rumi replied back, equally breathless. They had both collapsed atop each other after they managed to drag themselves up the stairs and into Rumi’s bed, sweaty and sated.

“My question still stands.”

Mira waited for Rumi  to continue the banter, but was met with silence. Rumi lay deathly still next to Mira, her face tucked away in Mira’s shoulder. Something in the air shifted and alarms started ringing in Mira’s head.

“Babe? Are you okay?” she asked, nudging Rumi’s side. She half expected Rumi to jerk away, perk up, or nudge her back. None of that happened. Rather, there was the slightest, barely audible hitch in Rumi’s breath and not the pleasurable kind.

In an instant, Mira was sitting up and pulling Rumi up with her, trying to get a look at her face and consumed with concern. Sure enough, a frown was straining Rumi’s face as tears began to drip down her cheeks.

“Baby? Rumi? What’s wrong?” Mira’s eyes were darting all over the place, looking for injuries or anything else that might explain why Rumi was acting like this. “Did I hurt you? Talk to me, baby.”

Taking one deep, shuddering breath, Rumi found her voice. “I-It’s Zoey, I–” she cut herself of, stifling a sob and burying her face in her hands. “She messaged me. I mean, my cam site profile.”

Mira reached out, coaxing Rumi to stop hiding her face so she could brush away the escaping tears. “And? Did she somehow find out it was you?”

“No, no! She … offered a private show. And I accepted the offer.”

“Rumi …” Mira tried to not sound too chiding, to not rub salt in the wound. She knew Rumi was already wallowing in shame and did not want to add to it.

“I thought she might need the money! I wasn’t going to watch. I was just going to make it seem like I was, give her the money, and never do it again.”

It clicked in Mira’s mind. “But you did. You watched, didn’t you? That’s why you were so wound up.”

“I tried not to!” Rumi sobbed, guilt written all over her face. “But then I saw and heard and I started reacting and–”

“You blueballed yourself, eh?”

“Mira!” The response was instant, Rumi swatting at Mira’s shoulder and the shame melting into shock. Mira caught her flailing hands, bringing them up to press a kiss to the back of them.

“Sorry, I couldn't help it.” She said with a wry smile. “But I’m right, aren’t I?”

“... Yes.” Rumi practically deflated, sagging forward onto Mira. “It would have been wrong and I never should have accepted the show in the first place, but I got worried that she might need the money and … yeah.”

Giving a thoughtful hum, Mira urged Rumi to lay back down with her, rubbing soothing circles against the swaths of scarring across Rumi’s back. “I won’t lie and say it was like, the most morally acceptable thing to do, given that we know Zoey personally.” she said, feeling Rumi burrow further into her shoulder to hide her shame. “But Zoey knows what she’s doing. She probably knows there’s a risk someone will recognize her from camming. Besides, maybe using this as a clean break will be good for you and Zoey’s relationship.”

Rumi peaked up at Mira, brows scrunched together. “Mine and Zoey’s relationship? What do you mean?”

“Well, she’s super sweet, cute, and nice.” Mira explained, entirely aware of how what she was saying might sound. “I think getting closer to her personally would be really good for you two. She’s always talking about how much she wants to get to know you more.”

Ah, yes. Mira absolutely knew she was being a scheming little shit. She was proud of it. Someone had to do something about this clusterfuck of personal entanglements surrounding the three of them!

“She is really nice.” Mira had to resist doing a victorious fist bump, merely listening intently. “And Mi-Jin loves her.”

“Exactly. She’s been good for Mi-Jin and you.” Dragging the blankets up and over their naked bodies, Mira reached over to the bedside lamp to flip it off, bathing the bedroom in darkness. “Now rest. We’re both too exhausted to consider the moral implications of our actions.”

Rumi made a grumbling noise that sounded close enough to agreement, likely with some emotional turmoil mixed in. Mira merely pressed a kiss atop her unkempt purple hair, whispering a soft “good night” that was returned in kind.

First, she would regain feeling in her legs.

Then, she would figure what the fuck their next move was.

Chapter Text

Guilt and shame were persistent little monsters, especially when it came to wreaking havoc on Rumi’s mind.

Her favorite way to deal with it was shutting herself away and wallowing in it, though the last time she had done that, she didn’t have a kid to take care of.

Nowadays, she compartmentalized. She was a goddamn pro at that. Just shove whatever the issue is in the corner and pretend it was never there. Avoid anything regarding it entirely.

Unfortunately, Rumi couldn’t do that when the centerpiece of her guilt strolled through her front door at 8:30am most weekday mornings. If it weren’t for Mira, there would have been a pretty solid chance that Rumi would have rushed into the bathroom to hide again.

After they had woken up and gotten themselves and Mi-Jin presentable, Mira had pulled her aside for a talk that left Rumi feeling like she had been scolded by a schoolteacher.

“I know you feel shitty about last night, but you can’t have Zoey be collateral because of it.” Mira had said, holding Rumi by the arms and looking her straight in the eye. “Pulling away will just end up hurting her because she’ll think she did something wrong. Don’t withdraw, stay present. You two deserve to get to know each other, okay?”

So Rumi stayed put and managed to choke the anxiety down when Zoey showed up in the morning. Instead, she focused on the beautiful, unfiltered joy that rolled off of Mi-Jin in waves when Zoey entered the room in her oversized hoodie and paintstained jeans.

All the fear and restlessness twisting in her chest somehow melted away when Zoey reached into her turtle patterned tote to show Mi-Jin the colorful stack of English lesson activity books she’d brought with her.

“You really don’t have to do that.” Rumi said, gesturing to the activity books. She was fluent in English, but not by choice. It had been drilled into her from an early age to help her future marketability as a popstar. She still hadn’t decided whether or not she was going to have Mi-Jin learn it.

“She expressed some interest, so I figured I might as well. If she gets tired of it, we do something else.” Zoey replied, tucking the books back away for later. They looked like the kind that were mostly puzzles and games, rather than straight language lessons. “I gotta come up with plenty of ways to make her forget Bluey exists.”

And just like that, Rumi found herself letting out a genuine laugh despite her own warring emotions. It was honestly amazing, the sheer amount of sway Zoey had on her mental state. Even if her palms were sweating and cold prickled at the back of her neck, it seemed Zoey’s blinding smile and personality overpowered everything else. Rumi was beginning to understand how Mi-Jin became so immediately enamored with her.

“I guess it’s time for us to head out?” Mira’s voice caught their attention as she strolled down the stairs in loungewear that she actually had the wherewithal to leave behind so she could stop having to borrow Rumi’s clothes when she spent the night.

Taking a quick glance at her watch, Rumi sighed. “Yeah, looks like it.” She crouched down, so Mi-Jin was at eye level, ignoring the lingering soreness in her legs from her … enthusiasm from the night before. “Kisses, Mi-Jin!”

With the energy only a five year old could have at 8am, Mi-Jin threw herself into Rumi’s embrace, giggling as her face was peppered in kisses. As soon as Rumi was done, Mi-Jin was practically clawing at Mira’s legs to demand the same from her.

Maybe one day, Rumi wouldn’t turn into an adoring puddle seeing Mira interact so lovingly with Mi-Jin, but it was not that day.

Once Mi-Jin had been thoroughly showered in goodbye kisses, Rumi gave Mira one of her own before bidding Zoey and her daughter farewell. She actually managed to hold a smile that didn’t look like a grimace, ignoring all of the anxiety crackling in her chest.

Like Mira said, Zoey deserved to feel welcomed and liked.

Although, liking Zoey a little too much was kind of Rumi’s main problem.

***

Moving past the PurpleTiger226 situation was … not the easiest.

Zoey honestly felt a little like she was dragging herself out of bed the next morning and a little bit on the morning after that, too.

When her next stream came up, one viewer even commented that she seemed tired along with their donation, making Zoey plaster on a fake smile and assure everyone she was doing just fine. SunneeZee was just as sunny as ever, nothing wrong at all!

In reality, she’d been in a funk ever since she had worked on Mira’s portrait earlier that day. The parts she was working on required her to use purples and she sat looking at her palette like it had personally offended her before she grit her teeth and powered through.

For the first time in a while, she was really debating how much longer she wanted to keep camming. It felt dumb, considering throwing in the towel just because one regular viewer decided to vanish into the void.

She was making decent money babysitting and Mira’s patronage had the potential to launch her career as an artist sky high. Her savings were absolutely absurd, given her habit of squirreling away any of her spare cash, living in fear of Derpy finally succeeding in swallowing a battery whole and requiring expensive veterinary care. She didn’t hate camming, but it wasn’t exactly her dream job.

It was one of her days off, no cam show and no babysitting to do. For once, she was letting herself rot in bed and stew in her own spiralling thoughts. Derpy was tucked at her side but not actually sleeping, staring blankly at a random spot on the wall. Zoey was keeping herself entertained by counting how many seconds it would take for him to actually blink.

Zoey had lost count for the third time when her phone rang, having been shoved under her pillow after she decided she’d had enough doomscrolling. Groaning, she blindly fished it out, jabbing the green button on the screen without looking.

“Hello?” She hoped it wasn’t anyone important, given how she made no effort to hide how mentally haggard she felt.

“Oh, thank fucking god.” The voice that came from the other line was more than familiar, Zoey immediately sitting up, wide awake.

“Mira? What’s up?”

“Are you free right now? I knew I should’ve taken a fucking flight.” The last part was grumbled, the frustration obvious in Mira’s voice. It was clear she wasn’t calling to see if Zoey wanted to hang out last minute.

“Yeah, I am. Why?”

“Because I’m stuck on Jeju island waiting for the goddamn ferries to start running again.”

Despite how peeved Mira sounded, Zoey couldn’t help but snort. In their last lunch outing, Mira had mentioned needing to go to Jeju to meet some business associate who was a notorious hermit with an aversion to digital correspondence.

“Well, I don’t exactly have a spare ferry lying around to send to you. What do you need?” Zoey said, extricating herself from her blankets and hopping off of her bed with a stretch. Hearing Mira’s voice had her mental state improving a bit, so she figured she might as well actually brush her teeth and hair like a responsible human being.

“I need you to head over to Rumi’s. Whatever she pays you for babysitting, I’ll triple it. I don’t care how much it costs.”

“But she said Mi-Jin didn’t need a sitter today?”

“It’s Rumi who needs a damn sitter. She’s sick.”

Worry immediately stabbed into Zoey’s heart, causing her to freeze halfway through brushing her hair.

“I need you to watch Mi-Jin while Rumi actually lays down to get some sleep. If she is stuck taking care of Mi-Jin instead of resting, it’ll take her forever to get better.”

“Does she need to go to the hospital?” Zoey asked, now completely alert and making a mental game plan to get presentable as quickly as possible.

“No, her fever isn’t that bad yet. Hopefully you taking care of her and Mi-Jin can make the hospital avoidable. Can you do it?”

“Yes, absolutely. I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

***

Zoey tried to be calm when she got to Rumi’s house, scared of looking like those husbands in medical dramas bursting into delivery rooms. She wasn’t entirely sure how successful she was, given that Rumi still jolted in surprise seeing her powerwalk into the living room. It hadn’t occurred to Zoey that Mira might not have gotten around to telling Rumi she’d be coming by.

Or maybe Mira thought Zoey might be the one to give the heads up. Either way, Rumi looked pale, sickly, and so unbelievably confused.

“What are you doing here?” Rumi asked and Zoey had to keep herself from wincing at how wrecked her voice sounded. It was nasally and raspy, as if she had spent the entire night coughing and sneezing. There was a chance that was actually the case.

“Mira called.” Zoey answered. Rumi’s head cocked in further confusion, so she continued. “Mira said you were sick and hired me to take care of you.”

Squinting in Zoey’s general direction, it looked like Rumi was lagging a few seconds behind on understanding the Korean language. “She sent my babysitter … to babysit me?”

“Well, technically I’m here to babysit and Rumi-sit, I think.”

“Oh. Okay. Uh.” Rumi’s face twisted and scrunched, a very clear mental war going on in her head. Zoey stood there for an uncomfortable amount of time wondering if she was about to be thrown out and/or fired for overstepping and was prepared to take Mira down with her if she was. 

Eventually, Rumi sighed and the tension in her body sagged away. She awkwardly wiggled on the couch, Zoey craning her neck to see that Mi-Jin was curled up and napping on her mother’s lap. Feather soft, Rumi ran her fingers through Mi-Jin’s hair, coaxing her awake. “Hey, Mimi? Auntie Zoey is here. Wake up, sweetie.”

If Zoey had a tail, it’d be wagging. Her heart was hammering in her chest at the realization that Rumi was going to let her stay and that she might actually get a chance to take care of her.

It sucked that Rumi had to probably be feeling like shit for it to happen, but Zoey was going to take whatever blessings she could.

The tiniest grumbles came from Mi-Jin as she stirred awake, batting Rumi’s hand away and wiggling closer to try and continue her napping. Giving a fond, raspy laugh, Rumi poked at Mi-Jin’s scrunched up nose.

“Mi-Jin. Auntie Zoey is–”

“Auntie Zoey?!” Mi-Jin rocketed upward, nearly headbutting Rumi. Her eyes locked onto Zoey and she was suddenly wide awake, flinging herself off the couch and into Zoey’s legs, nearly knocking her over. “What are you doing here?! Eomma isn’t going to work!”

“Good morning to you, too, Mi-Jin.” Zoey said with a laugh, crouching down to give her a proper hug. “I’m here to take care of you so Eomma can rest today and focus on getting better.”

Mi-Jin pursed her lips, squinting at nothing in what was deep, careful thought. Making a displeased noise, she shook her head. “No.”

Zoey blinked, confused. “No?”

“No.” Mi-Jin repeated. She squirmed out of Zoey’s embrace and pointed at Rumi, who was halfway towards the stairs with a blanket wrapped tight around her entire body. “Take care of Eomma instead! She’s got the sniffles.”

Rumi halted in her tracks, looking over at the two like a deer in headlights. Her hair was wild and loose and now that Zoey was looking a little more closely, she noticed little patches of discolored skin around the edges of Rumi’s face.

“Uh, s-she doesn’t have to do that, honey.” Rumi said with an awkward laugh, inching closer to the stairs. “Eomma can take care of herself while Auntie Zoey takes care of you.”

Mi-Jin did not like that answer, given the extremely disapproving glare she shot Rumi’s way.

“How about I take care of both of you?” Zoey cut in, pulling Mi-Jin’s attention back. Mi-Jin made a curious noise. “We can have a calm, relaxing day and as long as you’re nice and quiet so Eomma can rest, you can watch Bluey while I look after Eomma. Does that sound good?”

“Yes!” Mi-Jin agreed with zero hesitation. “Can I watch one now? Eomma needs to be tucked in.”

Glancing over at Rumi, Zoey could tell she knew Mi-Jin wasn’t going to back down. Zoey fully maintained that Mi-Jin was a perfect, precious angel of a child, but also knew Mi-Jin was extremely determined when her mind was made up.

“One. Go ahead and start it while I tuck Eomma in.”

Mi-Jin ran back to the couch, punching the buttons on the tv remote with her tiny hands. Rising to her feet, Zoey approached Rumi. Rumi tensed up once she got close, ducking her head to hide her face as much as she could behind her long, purple hair. Careful of Rumi’s discomfort, Zoey guided her up the stairs with a hand at her back. Her touch was featherlight, only grazing the blanket draped around Rumi’s body, not pressing enough to actually touch.

Zoey led Rumi along as she hobbled to her room, head held low the entire time. Even as Zoey helped lower her into bed, she kept her face hidden. The quiet fear that was rolling off of her in waves was obvious enough for Zoey’s heart to ache. She spoke before she could even think about what she was saying.

“You don’t have to hide your scars.”

Rumi’s hunched over form went absolutely rigid, Zoey feeling like she had dumped ice water in her own veins. Panic gripped at her chest as she realized that she might have severely fucked up, misunderstood, or overstepped.

The truth was that she didn’t really know if scars were what was causing Rumi’s behavior. She was only 95% sure there were scars in the first place. She had just made an educated guess, remembering the uneven texture of Rumi’s skin under her makeup, the vaguely known accident that took her husband away, and the glimpse of discoloration from earlier.

Slow and unsure, Rumi lifted her head to look at Zoey in shock. It gave Zoey a clear, close up look at the patches of long healed damage on Rumi’s face. To Zoey, it was still one of the most beautiful faces she’d ever seen, even if seeing the scars made her heart hurt for Rumi.

It wasn’t hard for Zoey to realize they were burn scars specifically. She had one of her own – a little splotch of shiny, darkened skin near her elbow from when she was a drunk teenager surrounded by other drunk teenagers goofing off around a fire pit. It was small, easily dismissable, not worth any conversation.

She knew Rumi’s scars told a long, painful story, though. She could even see them creeping down her jaw and neck and she had a horrible hunch that Rumi’s modesty hid much, much more.

“I’ve been seeing you at least three times a week for a little over two months,” Zoey said, forcing herself to stay nonchalant. She put her hand on Rumi’s shoulder to coax her to lay back, fluffing up the pillow right before Rumi’s head lowered onto it. “I’ve known for a while. It’s not something you have to hide. It doesn’t bother me and you have me under like … five different NDAs.”

It was a lie, saying she knew. She really hadn’t known for sure or the extent, but that wasn’t important. The joke at the end did get Rumi to let out a weak laugh, so at least that was a win. Her body melted underneath the blankets, still coccooned up to hide the rest of her skin.

“You can call them ‘patterns’.” Rumi said, voice quiet and shy. Zoey made a questioning noise. “That’s what I call them with Mi-Jin. It’s a little more child-friendly, I think.”

“Patterns, then.” Zoey said with a nod. Slow and careful as if she were trying to avoid startling a skittish animal, Zoey adjusted the blankets atop Rumi, making sure she was wrapped up nice and snug. Even though she was no longer hiding her face, she was looking pointedly away from Zoey, her lips tugged into a frown. “I’m not gonna ask about them, just so you know. It’s your business. Just know that seeing them doesn’t bother me at all.”

“... Okay.” Zoey could see the resemblance between mother and daughter, seeing Rumi looking so small and unsure. It reminded Zoey of when she first asked Mi-Jin to try sounding out an English word for the first time, riddled with nerves and afraid to disappoint.

For some reason, Zoey had the strong, intrusive urge to bend down and give Rumi a comforting kiss on the forehead. She even found herself leaning down the slightest bit before she stopped herself, jerking upright and startling Rumi a bit.

“I’m going to go ahead and get you some water! Be right back!”

Zoey deliberately stopped herself from rushing out of the room, putting one foot in front of the other at a reasonable pace and feeling her face heating up a bit.

In the living room, Bluey was already playing on the tv and Mi-Jin was sitting on the couch and watching, totally enraptured by it as usual. It made it easy for Zoey to duck into the kitchen to get Rumi a nice cool glass of water without catching Mi-Jin’s attention.

When Zoey got back up to Rumi’s room, Rumi had gone from being wrapped up in a frightened burrito to actually laying comfortably on the bed. She was curled up on her side, hugging a pillow to her body. The pajamas she was wearing looked to actually be some sort of too-big band shirt with short sleeves of all things. It gave Zoey a good look at even more burn scars trailing up pale arms.

“Here you go. When’s the last time you took medicine?” Zoey set down the glass of water on the end table, on a coaster next to where Rumi’s phone was charging. Rumi looked bashful all of the sudden.

“... I haven’t. It makes me too sleepy and I need to take care of Mi-Jin.” she admitted. Zoey had to resist the urge to facepalm.

“How are you supposed to get better without medicine? Maybe I really am here to Rumi-sit.” Zoey joked. “Where do you keep it?”

A few vague instructions had Zoey bringing some cold meds to Rumi for her to swallow down with a quick thanks. Rumi allowed herself to be tucked back in, her eyes slipping closed as she cuddled into the pillow in a display so adorable that it had Cupid’s arrow stabbing into Zoey’s heart a dozen times. She slipped out of the room the exact same way she would after reading a bedtime story to a sleepy child, her cheeks hurting from how much she was smiling.

That peaceful joy stuck with her as she went about taking care of Mi-Jin downstairs. After the episode of Bluey, Mi-Jin begrudgingly handed the TV remote back to Zoey and made herself comfortable at the coffee table where they usually sat to play games and draw. Sending a quick text to Mira updating her, Zoey settled next to Mi-Jin.

It was nice and quiet, Zoey falling into a peaceful lull talking and playing with Mi-Jin. It was a nice distraction from everything else that had been going on in her head when Mira called. Mi-Jin drew more pictures of her plushy, this time surrounded with different scribbles of name ideas in various colors. She swore up and down to Zoey that she’d find a name for it soon, alternating between sloppy hangul and random combinations of English letters that were entirely nonsense.

“You could name him Derpy.” Zoey suggested, picking up a green crayon and writing it out in both alphabets. Mi-Jin squinted at the words, the gears in her little head turning.

“Isn’t that the name of your kitty?”

“Yeah, but they can share names. My Derpy won’t mind.”

Lips pursed, Mi-Jin nodded, expression overly serious. “I will think about it.”

Eventually, Mi-Jin tired of drawing and started poking at Zoey, asking for something to eat. It was around lunchtime anyway, so Zoey went off to the kitchen to rummage around for something she could feed Mi-Jin and Rumi. She was in the middle of considering whether or not Rumi would be able to stomach a sandwich when a horrible noise came from upstairs.

Terrified, desperate, and absolutely gut-wrenching wails.

The loaf of bread Zoey had been holding was tossed haphazardly onto the counter as she rushed out into the living room. Mi-Jin was still sitting on the couch, entirely fine but also staring at the stairs in confusion. Just as she was going to ask Mi-Jin what might have happened, there was a loud slam coming from upstairs, the wails going eerily quiet.

“Stay right there. I’ll be right back.” Zoey was already rushing up the stairs, trusting Mi-Jin to listen to her instructions. She burst into Rumi’s bedroom, heart hammering in her chest.

On the floor, tangled up in the blankets and heaving and sobbing was Rumi. Her breathing was ragged and frantic, face twisted in fear and streaked with tears. It looked like she was desperately trying to get to her feet but was being hindered by the panic overtaking her entire body. Zoey was by her side in a blink, probably bruising her knees from how quick she dropped to the floor to take a look at Rumi.

“What happened? Are you hurt? I need you to breathe for me, Rumi.” She was grabbing at the blanket, untangling it from where it was tangled and tight across Rumi’s body. Once she was freed, Rumi collapsed into a sobbing heap on the floor. Throwing caution to the wind, Zoey managed to haul her closer, practically cradling Rumi in her lap.

“It’s okay. It’s okay. It was just a nightmare. Everything is okay.” Zoey cooed, feeling how badly Rumi was shaking in her arms. “Mi-Jin is downstairs totally fine. Everyone is safe.”

While the sobs continued, they became less frenzied. Rumi’s breathing went to a rhythm that could actually get her proper oxygen and made Zoey less concerned about her passing out.

“C’mon, let’s see if we can get you back in the bed, okay?” Supporting Rumi’s trembling body, Zoey managed to maneuver her far enough off the ground to slip back onto the bed. Rumi’s hair was a wreck and her clothes were askew, the bunched up sleeves and pant legs revealed even more scars that Zoey couldn’t bother to give any attention to.

Instead, she reached for the glass of water on the nightstand, guiding it into Rumi’s shaking hands and keeping them steady as she took a few gulps from it. Unable to stop herself, she gently brushed Rumi’s tears away and hair out of her face.

“Are you here with me?” Zoey asked, keeping her voice low and soothing. Rumi gave an unsteady nod, her breath still hitching with sobs. “What do you need? I can get you more water or blankets. I can even bring Mi-Jin up here for some cuddles.”

“I need–” Rumi took in a sharp breath, eyes squeezing shut. Zoey waited patiently for her to find her words. “I n-need you to …”

Taking one of Rumi’s hands in her own, Zoey gave it a reassuring squeeze. “Anything. Just tell me.”

“I need you to check the smoke detectors.” It came out in one rushed breath. Rumi’s hand squeezed Zoey’s harder, to the point where it kind of hurt a little. “Please. Just make sure they’re working.”

“Will that … make it easier for you to go back to resting?” Zoey asked, slow and careful. Rumi only nodded in reply. “Okay. I’ll go check all of them for you.”

Glancing at the ceiling, Zoey noticed one right above the bed. Extricating her hand from Rumi’s, she crawled up onto the bed to stand on it, reaching up toward the smoke detector and pressing the “test” button. Both she and Rumi winced as it let out a sharp beep, indicating that it was in working order.

Hopping off the bed, Zoey took a step towards the bedroom door. “I’m going to go check all of the other ones, okay? I’ll be right back.”

She waited until Rumi gave an understanding nod, still curled in on herself sitting atop the bed. Zoey kind of felt a bit like an old-timey cartoon character, scrambling around upstairs to find a suitable chair from Rumi’s office that she could stand on.

If only Mira were here, she thought, dragging a chair down the hallway after checking the smoke detector in the office. She could probably reach these things without needing a boost.

For the sake of being as quick as possible, Zoey left the chair pushed to the side in the hallway rather than putting it away after. As it turns out, Rumi had a lot of smoke detectors. There had to be one every ten feet with three alone in the hallway. 

Zoey imagined some people would dismiss this as being excessive or paranoid, but burn scars like Rumi’s didn’t come without mental scarring that was ten times worse.

When she went down the stairs to check the rest of the house, she was surprised to find Mi-Jin struggling to drag a kitchen chair under a smoke detector in the living room. Her little face was scrunched up and red, clearly exerting herself to get the chair to move a single inch.

“Mi-Jin, sweetie, what are you doing?” Zoey tugged the chair away, easily moving it where she needed it.

“Helping with the beepers.” Mi-Jin said, pointing at the smoke detector. “I’m not allowed on the chairs, so I just help Eomma move them when she needs to push the buttons.”

Zoey paused, one foot up on the chair as she was getting ready to stand on it. “Does she … do this often?”

Mi-Jin only answered with a shrug. Zoey elected to shove that train of thought away for later, resuming her task of checking the countless smoke detectors littered across the ceilings. 

There were probably double the amount downstairs than there were upstairs and by the time she finished and rushed back up to Rumi, she probably looked like she had run a few laps. Rumi was still hunched over on the edge of the bed but her sobs had turned into quiet hitches of her breath as she cried. When she heard the bedroom door open, her head jerked up, bloodshot eyes locking onto Zoey.

“They’re all working. Mi-Jin helped.” Rumi sagged in relief, letting out a long sigh as if she had been holding her breath the entire time Zoey was gone. 

“Thank you.”

“Now, let’s get you all cozy again.” Zoey guided Rumi back under the covers, careful not to tuck her in too tight. She had a feeling Rumi wouldn’t enjoy being smothered after all of that.

“I’m sorry you had to see that.” Rumi said weakly, accepting the pillow Zoey guided into her arms. She curled up around like she had before, squeezing it tight.

“There’s nothing to be sorry for. Just focus on getting better, okay?”

With a tiny nod, Rumi let her eyes slip closed again. She was still shaking a bit and tears still dripped sluggishly down her cheeks, but she was breathing steadier and her muscles had relaxed. That overwhelming urge to give her forehead or temple a kiss seized Zoey by the chest again.

Instead, she gave Rumi’s shoulder a gentle squeeze from where it peeked out from under the blankets before ducking out of the room and pretending she wasn’t absolutely smitten.

***

The rest of the day was a blur for Rumi.

Whenever she would wake back up with her throat aching and head pounding, Zoey was there with another cold glass of water and something easy for her to nibble on. It was as if Zoey had a sixth sense for whenever someone needed to be coddled, something that probably did wonders for her babysitting career.

With Zoey’s careful attention and the trust Rumi had in her to make sure Mi-Jin was taken care of, resting came easier than it ever had in her life. For once, she wasn’t fighting to stay upright and trying to chase her fever away with willpower alone. When she woke up again some time around 9pm, she wasn’t entirely cured, but she was damn near close.

Feeling well enough, Rumi slipped out of bed and down the stairs, wrapping herself in a throw blanket to stay warm. The living room was quiet when she entered, the TV stuck on a “Continue watching?” message. Keeping her steps silent, she rounded the couch to find Zoey lying on it with Mi-Jin sprawled on top of her, both of them dead asleep. Mi-Jin was already in her pajamas and her hair had that extra wispy look to it that meant she already had her bath.

The sight made Rumi feel like there were butterflies in her chest. A part of her wanted to take her phone out and snap a picture to immortalize it, but she quickly surmised that sneaking pictures of her sleeping babysitter probably wasn’t socially acceptable.

Nor was knowingly paying her babysitter to masturbate on camera, but that was (somewhat) in the past.

Alas, Mi-Jin had a bedtime and Zoey had her own home she needed to go back to, so Rumi gently nudged Zoey awake.

Somehow her stirring didn’t wake Mi-Jin, her eyes blinking open and sluggishly focusing on Rumi. “Oh, hey. Why are you out of bed?”

“It’s late. Do you mind putting Mi-Jin in bed and then you can go?”

“Are you sure?” Zoey managed to sit up, cradling Mi-Jin in her arms. She must have done a hell of a job wearing Mi-Jin out, given how her daughter remained dead asleep even with all of the manhandling.

“Yeah. I’m sure Mira will come storming in first thing tomorrow morning to wait on me hand and foot.” Rumi said with a quiet laugh. “I’ll survive the rest of the night on my own. I’m feeling a lot better, I promise.”

With Zoey doing the carrying and Rumi doing the guiding, they took Mi-Jin upstairs and tucked her into bed. Zoey took the liberty of giving Mi-Jin her goodnight kiss instead of Rumi, since neither of them wanted to risk Mi-Jin catching whatever Rumi had. They tiptoed back down the stairs, both grabbing a glass of water - Zoey to get rid of post-nap dry mouth and Rumi to soothe her still aching throat.

“You don’t need me to come tomorrow?” Zoey asked, setting her half empty glass on the counter. Rumi shook her head.

“Mira already texted that she’ll be by first thing tomorrow. Even if she wasn’t, I’m feeling much better.”

“Good thing you don’t have to worry about getting in trouble for calling out of work, huh?” Zoey joked. Rumi had mentioned to her before about how she never had to worry about job security when Zoey asked how she managed to do her job without a sitter.

“I think I’d actually get in trouble this time.” Rumi joked back, albeit weaker. Seeing Zoey’s questioning look, she continued. “There’s a stupid gala coming up that Celine is borderline demanding I show up to. I’m almost sad I can’t use being sick to get out of it, now.”

“Oh? What night is it? I can pull another long day so you can go into the office and go to the gala if you need to.” Zoey’s gaze went to the calendar stuck to the fridge, probably searching for the date Rumi would have put the event on.

“Next Tuesday, but you don’t have to worry about it.”

“Are you sure?”

Rumi nodded, setting her glass down next to Zoey’s. “Yeah, I know you’re busy that night.”

Zoey’s lack of reply didn’t immediately cause alarm bells in Rumi’s head.

But then the silence continued and it felt like it weighed a thousand tons.

Wondering if Zoey hadn’t heard, Rumi glanced up to find her face ashen and her eyes wide. Rumi was about to ask what was wrong when Zoey spoke, sounding like she had just had the wind knocked out of her..

“I never told you that.”

Oh.

Oh, fuck.

“Zoey, I–”

“How do you know that?” Zoey’s hackles went up, taking a step back from Rumi. “I never told you that.”

“I mean, I just–” Rumi was scrambling, trying to come up with some excuse or lie to make the pieces stop coming together in Zoey’s head. Rumi could see, practically in slow motion, as realization and horror morphed across her face. “Zoey, I didn’t–”

“I need to go.” Zoey said, sounding like she was barely keeping herself from having an anxiety attack. She bolted out of the kitchen, yanking her tote over her shoulder and running out of the door. It slammed behind her, causing Rumi to wince and the wall decorations to rattle.

This time, when Rumi ran to the bathroom and fell to her knees, she actually threw up.

I have fucked up so, so bad.

Chapter Text

Zoey felt like her chest was being crushed.

Her hands hurt from how hard she was gripping the steering wheel, trying to focus on driving and not freaking the fuck out. Theoretically she could have taken a few moments before starting her car, but she needed to put as much distance between herself and Rumi’s house as quickly as possible.

She was trying so hard to breathe and not jump to conclusions, but the conclusions were jumping her left and right, filling her head with icy needles of anxiety that skittered and stabbed all the way down her spine.

Tuesday was such an odd night to assume someone already had plans and Rumi had said it with such certainty. Zoey had been fully prepared to cancel a stream in order to watch Mi-Jin, which is why she was so surprised at the instant dismissal of the offer.

It could have been a fluke, a random misunderstanding, but then she saw Rumi’s face after she pointed out the inconsistency. It wasn’t confusion. It wasn’t her laughing off a silly mistake.

It was pure guilt.

As soon as Zoey saw that, everything else started forcefully clicking into place. Things like the gate code, Mi-Jin’s tiger plushie, the fact that PurpleTiger226 stopped being a viewer the second she started working for Rumi, and even the fucking color of Rumi’s hair.

The idea of PurpleTiger226 haunted Zoey whenever she was around Rumi because PurpleTiger226 was standing right fucking there. No wonder Rumi had no issue paying so much for a babysitter given how she was already in the habit of dropping ridiculous amounts of cash on other things.

What if Rumi was paying her so much because she was SunneeZee?

Fuck, I think I’m going to be sick.

***

She left for one day.

One fucking day.

A single day without Mira was all it took for things to go to absolute shit.

“I’m never setting foot on Jeju ever fucking again.” Mira grumbled, stabbing a knife into a jar of peanut butter like it had personally wronged her.

“What did you say?” Mi-Jin’s voice called out from the living room from where she was sitting on the couch, watching Paw Patrol. Her screen time limit went out the window due to Rumi’s breakdown and Mira had practically begged her to watch something other than Bluey.

“I said lunch is ready!” Mira forced a smile and a chipper voice, slapping the two halves of the PB&J together and bringing it out to Mi-Jin on a pink, plastic plate. She was fully capable of making something more balanced and complex to feed Mi-Jin, but her mind was already occupied with trying to come up with a way to fix the mess she came home to.

Ever the polite child, Mi-Jin gave Mira a quiet thanks as she took the plate and happily began munching away as Mira slumped down next to her. Mira sometimes wondered if Mi-Jin’s apathy towards the emotional turmoil of the adults around her was something she was born with or something she developed due to having Rumi as a mother.

The aforementioned mother was where she had been since Mira showed up at damn near dawn that morning, in her bed being an absolute wreck. The only reason Mira wasn’t with her at that moment is she needed to

1. Feed the child
2. Make sure the child didn’t choke

Luckily, Rumi wasn’t all that sick anymore. Her fever was gone and she wasn’t coughing, but she was in no condition to actually get out of bed and be a functioning human being. As much as Mira loved her, she would openly admit that Rumi fucked up.

It’s not like she had much of an opportunity to fix it, either. Zoey apparently ran out without a second to explain (not that the explanation would have made anything better) and Mira forbade Rumi from contacting her without whatever she was about to say being checked first. The last thing Rumi needed was to word vomit her way into an even worse situation.

Mira was extremely fucking concerned about Zoey though.

Scheming aside, she cared about Zoey. A lot. Imagining what Zoey was going through by herself was making Mira’s chest ache. While she detested the fact that she had to prioritize one person she cared about over the other, she’d be an idiot to not run to Rumi first. Her phone felt like a lead weight in her pocket, knowing she could open Zoey’s contact info in seconds.

What the fuck would she even say, though?

“Here.” Mi-Jin’s little voice jolted Mira to attention, a half eaten PB&J being held right under her nose. She took the plate from Mi-Jin, having long since learned the rule that if a child is trying to hand you something, you take it.

“Are you not hungry anymore?” Usually Mi-Jin wasn’t a light eater, so her not finishing her sandwich was odd.

“I saved half for Eomma. She’s sad.” Mi-Jin explained, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. Mira couldn’t help but chuckle in amazement at this child who somehow knew exactly what to say and do to make the world seem less bleak.

She gave Mi-Jin a playful ruffle of her hair, handing the plate back. “Finish your sandwich, honey. Once you’re done, we can both make one just for her so she can have a whole sandwich.”

“... Big Mimi is a genius.”

Damn right I am.

Under Mira’s extremely close supervision, Mi-Jin slapped together a PB&J for Rumi that wasn’t a total disaster. It took a lot of convincing and gentle redirecting to make sure Mi-Jin didn’t try adding things like chocolate chips, sour cream, or animal crackers, Mira repeating to her multiple times that a peanut butter and jelly sandwich is made up of peanut butter and jelly only.

They happily marched up the stairs, Mi-Jin holding a plate high and proud above her head with Mira close behind. When they reached Rumi’s door, Mira poked her head in first to make sure she wasn’t walking Mi-Jin in to see her mother having a panic attack. Rumi was predictably curled up in a ball under the covers, but it didn’t look like she was crying, so Mira opened the door and unleashed the child.

“Eomma! I made you a not-sad-sandwich!” Mira had to resist laughing, given that the sandwich objectively looked sad as hell. There was almost as much jelly on the outside of it as there was on the inside, which is exactly why Mira had a fist full of napkins at the ready.

The lump shifted and Rumi’s head emerged from the blankets, her eyes still red and puffy and adorned with brutal dark circles underneath. Her hair was a loose mess that tumbled over her shoulders and she was still in the pajamas she had been wearing when Mira showed up.

“Thank you, sweetie.” Rumi moved enough for Mi-Jin to clamber onto the bed, taking the plate before it could be dropped onto her clean bedding. She gathered her daughter close with her free arm, nuzzling into her hair and inhaling shakily. “I already feel less sad.”

It was a blatant lie, one Mira couldn’t help but sneak a deadpan look to Rumi over. Considering it was just to Mi-Jin, though, Mira could let it slide. Rumi not being an emotional wreck went on the list of acceptable lies to tell to Mi-Jin right underneath Santa Claus and the tooth fairy.

Mira took a seat on the other side of the bed, reaching over to run her fingers through the tangles in Rumi’s hair while Rumi tried to eat the sandwich while getting the least amount of jelly on her hands. Mi-Jin was doing her usual ramblings, both Mira and Rumi listening absently and making little noises of acknowledgement whenever she stopped to take a breath.

“-And so I’ve decided his name is Derpy like Auntie Zoey’s cat!”

Both Mira and Rumi halted, the air becoming thick with tension. Mira’s fingers paused in Rumi’s hair while Rumi’s immediate reaction was to duck her head in shame. Mira could feel her shoulders beginning to tremble and decided to cut in.

“That’s really nice, Mi-Jin. I’m sure she’ll be happy to hear that.”

Mi-Jin nodded and bounced where she sat, her pigtails bobbing up and down. “Yeah! I’m gonna tell her tomorrow!”

Fuuuuuuck.

Rumi’s head dipped further down, now almost entirely curled in on herself.

“Actually, Zoey and I have plans tomorrow.” Mira said. Rumi’s head snapped back up, looking at Mira with pure confusion. Mira gave her a look that said just go with it. 

“Uh, y-yeah.” Rumi agreed, voice weak. “So it’s just you and me tomorrow, sweetie.”

The pout from Mi-Jin was immediate. “But I wanna hang out with Auntie Zoey!”

Mira shook her head, adopting a stern look. “Sharing is important, Little Mimi and it’s my turn with the Zoey.”

Mi-Jin merely pouted harder, crossing her arms and scrunching her face up. It was as if Rumi’s mom instincts were activated, sensing the beginnings of a tantrum. The plate was set on the nightstand and Mi-Jin was practically dragged into Rumi’s lap.

“What happened to my baby girl who used to get fussy when I went out?” Rumi joked, squeezing Mi-Jin in her arms. “I’m beginning to feel a little left out here.”

Mi-Jin gasped, as if Rumi had said the most preposterous thing in the world. “No! I love Eomma!”

“Enough to spend tomorrow with me in a pillow fort? We can play CandyLand and drink hot chocolate with whipped cream.”

Mi-Jin’s eyes narrowed. “... It’s not my birthday.”

A snort of a laugh escaped Mira and Rumi immediately elbowed her.

“You’re right. But we can pretend it is, and you know what that means?”

“What does it mean?”

Rumi leaned in, whispering like she was about to say something top-secret. “...You can even have a slice of cheesecake.”

Mi-Jin’s eyes lit up. She immediately rocketed off of the bed, jumping up and down with glee and chanting “cheesecake!” over and over. All of the sorrow and guilt that sat heavy in the air stood no match for Mi-Jin’s bright-eyed excitement, both Rumi and Mira finding themselves smiling hard enough for their cheeks to hurt as they watched her.

“Do you just have cheesecake hidden somewhere for emergencies?” Mira asked Rumi, leaning in and keeping her voice quiet.

“Surprisingly no. I’ll just have some delivered or ask Bobby to get some.”

Mira shook her head. “I’ll just bring some when I come over tomorrow afternoon.”

“You weren’t serious about seeing Zoey?”

“No, I meant that part.” Rumi’s face twisted up, changing from guilt, to relief, to anxiety in seconds. Mira leaned in to give her the gentlest kiss, trying to will Rumi’s frown away with her own lips. Sure enough, the corners of Rumi’s lips lifted a bit. “I need to check on her and figure out how the hell to fix this mess. I’ll just come after.”

“It’s not your mess to fix, Mira.” Rumi said softly, her body sagging against Mira’s side.

I have an entire corkboard that says otherwise.

“Let me be the one to decide that.” She said instead. Maybe it wasn’t the best time to tell Rumi she had been plotting ways to … what? Form a throuple with Zoey? She still wasn’t sure on the logistics, especially now.

Pursing her lips, Rumi elected to not make an argument about that. She instead turned back to the celebrating Mi-Jin, reaching out to lure her back to the cuddle pile. “C’mon, Mi-Jin. Help me finish my not-sad-sandwich.”

Clambering back onto the bed, Mi-Jin took the plate from Rumi and held up the sandwich for Rumi to bite, uncaring if her hands got messy.

Eventually, Mira would have to herd Mi-Jin away to wash her hands, but for now? Mira would happily kiss the jelly smudged around Rumi’s lips away in between bites and sit cuddled up to two of her favorite people in the world.

***

It had to have been around noon when Zoey heard the knock on her door.

She had been rotting on her couch, watching some trashy reality TV dating show and shoveling shrimp chips into her mouth. Derpy was … elsewhere and her phone had died the night before and she couldn’t find the mental fortitude to charge it.

She was running. Plain and simple.

If she looked at her phone, she would see the calendar alerts for her streams and babysitting schedule and the thought of either made her sick. She was supposed to stream the night before, but she wouldn’t have been able to keep her composure.

Not when there was a chance Rumi could be in the audience.

For the first time, she regretted her choice to start camming. It had given her the ability to have a nice apartment, a healthy pet, and a way to afford supplies to further her career as an artist. For some reason, though, she felt like she had lost something deeper than all of that all because of her stupid decisions.

In one fell swoop, Zoey felt like she had a future full of a smiling Mi-Jin, an unbelievably kind Rumi, and an absolutely perfect Mira ripped away from her. Every memory of Rumi’s smile had soured and each laugh had been tainted, all because she decided to take her clothes off for money.

So yeah, Zoey hadn’t responded to any calls and texts. She was supposed to have been babysitting that day, but the thought of stepping foot into Rumi’s house made her palms sweat and bile rise in her throat.

She almost ignored the knocking on her front door, but it was persistent. Getting up with a grunt, she hobbled over to the door, swinging it open without a care in the world and a bedraggled glare on her face.

“Well, hello to you, too.”

It took every bit of self control for Zoey to not slam the door in Mira’s face. Not from anger or anything, but pure panic. Mira must have expected this, given how she immediately had the toe of one boot over the threshold to prevent it.

Zoey tried to say something in reply, tell her to get out and never come back or apologize profusely and run away, but she was frozen.

“... Can I come in? I think we need to talk.” Mira said, never one to beat around the bush. Zoey swallowed hard, throat aching. She couldn’t remember the last time she drank something. Her breathing was shaky as she inhaled and exhaled, trying to calm her anxiety. She nodded, stepping aside so Mira could enter.

Already familiar with Zoey’s apartment, Mira bee-lined for the couch and made herself comfortable after toeing off her boots. She left plenty of space for Zoey to sit on the other side, pushing aside the mess of pillows and blankets Zoey had been rotting in.

Zoey could feel her heart pounding and the shame that had been festering multiplying tenfold under Mira’s steady gaze. Unable to look directly at her, Zoey spoke with her eyes turned downward.

“How much do you know?” That was the first thing she could think to ask. She couldn’t possibly expect Rumi wouldn’t tell Mira something.

“I know but I have not seen.” Mira answered. “How vague do you want me to be?”

“Not at all. Please just rip the bandaid off.”

Mira gave a low chuckle and Zoey had to resist the urge to flinch. “I know you’re a camgirl. I know Rumi was one of your viewers. How much do you know?”

“I’m 99% sure I knew which viewer she was. I think she paid me for a private show and gave me fifty grand.”

“Fifty-? Holy fucking shit, okay.” Mira was physically taken aback by that, her face morphing into a grimace. “I didn’t know that. What the fuck. Okay, yeah. I think that was her. Unless you’ve done more private shows?”

“No. Just that one.”

“What was the username?”

“PurpleTiger226.”

There was a pause, one long and uncomfortable enough for Zoey to drag her gaze from the floor and towards Mira. If it weren’t for the mortification, Zoey would have laughed at the comically gobsmacked expression on Mira’s face.

“Are you – of course you’re serious because of course she would have that as a username.” Mira sighed and shook her head, clearly exasperated.

“Yeah, I kind of feel silly not figuring that out sooner.” Zoey gave a weak laugh, trying to hide the fact that she still wanted the ground to swallow her whole.

“No, that’s like – well. This whole situation is beyond fucking absurd. None of us could have seen this coming.”

Zoey scoffed, burying herself deeper in the blankets. Mira raised one eyebrow in a questioning look.

“Rumi could have.” Zoey grumbled, glaring at a random spot on the wall. “Why in the world did she find and hire me? Did she expect me to never find out?”

“Woah, woah, woah.” Mira was immediately on the defensive, causing Zoey’s glare to deepen. “Rumi didn’t find you because you were her favorite camgirl. Bobby found you as a babysitter only. She had no idea until you walked through her door the first time.”

“That’s … that sounds absolutely ridiculous and you know it.” Zoey protested weakly.

“Yeah, it does, because it is. Do you really think Rumi would do that intentionally? Because that would be kind of fucked up of her to do.”

“I–I don’t know.”

“In fact, she wanted to let you go and be done with it to spare both of you the embarrassment but then Mi-Jin clicked with you and she couldn’t bear to do it.”

Zoey squeezed her eyes shut, feeling them begin to burn with unshed tears. If it truly was a coincidence, that means the only person to blame for this would be her for choosing camming as a way to make money. She could have had this nice, wonderful thing in her life but instead, set herself up for failure.

“Can you look at me, please?” Mira’s voice was closer now and a warm hand touched Zoey’s shoulder, causing her to jolt. Painfully, Zoey managed to lift her face and look at Mira, her vision blurring with tears. Even though Zoey knew the Mira she had come to know and love wouldn’t ridicule and judge her, a persistent voice in Zoey’s head said she would.

Mira didn’t say anything immediately, an expression full of sympathy marring her otherwise passive and cool demeanor. Her other hand came up the brush away a traitorous tear before it could roll down Zoey’s cheek. The gesture was feather soft but it left Zoey feeling like she had been kicked in the chest.

“Why are you here?” Zoey asked, voice cracking with her barely contained anguish.

“Because I care.”

“About Rumi?”

“I mean, yeah. Of course.” Mira said. Her eyes remained unwavering on Zoey’s face. “But that’s only half of the reason.”

“Is the other half Mi-Jin?” Zoey said, trying to keep the lump in her throat from choking her. She already knew what Mira was implying, but her mind wouldn’t let her believe it.

“I think you know it’s not.”

God dammit.

Squeezing her eyes shut, Zoey angled her face out of Mira’s reach as she took a deep, trembling breath. She could feel Mira’s hand withdraw and tried to ignore how much she immediately missed it.

“What do you want from me?” Zoey asked. She kept her eyes shut, not wanting to see whatever expression Mira was making. Seeing Mira’s face meant finding out whether it was pity or care or something else entirely, and Zoey wasn’t sure which she could survive seeing. “What are you trying to get out of this?”

“I want the people I care about to have nice things. Both of the people I care about.”

Unidentifiable emotions surged in Zoey’s chest. She found herself springing up from the couch and putting distance between herself and Mira without realizing. She only noticed when she heard Mira stand as well.

“You have such a good thing with Rumi.” Zoey tried to keep her voice steady, keeping her back to Mira and her fists clenched at her side. “You two love each other so much. I can see it.”

“Yes, and–”

“And I love that I’ve been able to see it.” Zoey cut her off, trying to keep what little resolve she had left. If she let Mira continue talking, she felt like she would fall apart at the seams. “I feel lucky seeing it and getting to know you two. I don’t want to be the reason anything happens to your relationship.”

Love was fragile. Zoey knew that. If a couple managed to find the perfect conditions for it, they should hold onto it until someone pried it from their cold, dead hands.

You could love someone, marry them, have kids with them, and sometimes it still wouldn’t be enough to keep you and the person you love together. When everything falls apart, it becomes a gaping chasm pulling everybody standing too close down with them. Zoey knew this all too well. She had seen it. She had been pulled into that pit and been ripped to pieces by it.

Trying to involve herself in Mira and Rumi’s relationship would throw it entirely off balance. It would put it at risk, and for what? Some young and reckless 20-something who got naked on camera for money and almost dropped out of high school?

Mira and Rumi deserved so much better. They deserved each other, forever and always.

“Thank you for letting me get to know you, Mira. I’m glad I got to see you properly in order to do your portrait.” Zoey knew she probably came off hollow and robotic, but the only alternative was sobbing and she needed to keep it together. “I need to focus on finishing it, so I’m afraid you can’t stay long.”

“Zoey, I–”

“I can’t wait for you to see it when it’s finished.” Zoey made her voice extra sharp, giving Mira little room for rebuttal. She could hear Mira let out a deep sigh.

“Fine. I’ll leave you be for now. I just wanted to check and make sure you were okay.”

“I’m okay. Thank you for checking in on me.” It was a blatant lie. She knew Mira knew.

“You’re welcome. Thanks for having me.” Mira replied, clearly resigned. Zoey could hear her footsteps across the floorboards and kept her gaze turned down and away, even as Mira slipped her boots back on. “I’ll see you later, Zoey.”

Zoey didn’t respond. If she did, she’d crumble. She had to wait until Mira left to do that.

As soon as the door shut and Mira was gone, Zoey stumbled backwards and collapsed back onto the couch. Hot tears began pouring down her cheeks, choked back sobs hitching in her throat.

She loved Mira and Rumi so much. Enough to know that trying to insert herself would be greedy, would risk the beautiful relationship they had with each other. She’d finish Mira’s portrait, hand it off, and cancel her contract Rumi to give everyone a clean break. They’d be sad at first, but once they realized she was just a passing fancy, they’d move on and love each other for the rest of their lives.

Zoey had her cat, her art, and her camera. She’d lived well enough with only those. It was all she needed.

***

Mira stood outside of Zoey’s apartment building, sitting on her motorcycle with her helmet on and hiding her glare.

Apparently, she had a type.

Self-sacrificing, self-deprecating, absolutely beautiful women who thought they didn’t meet some unknown, impossible criteria for happiness.

She jabbed her key into the ignition, her motorcycle roaring to life. She wondered if Zoey could hear it from her apartment.

“I’m not fucking giving up.” She said to herself, inaudible over the growls of the engine. “Not for one fucking second.”

With a sharp rev, Mira tore out of the parking spot and down the previously quiet street.

First, she had to go pick up some goddamn cheesecake.

Second, she wasn’t going to just fix this mess. She was a revolutionary, up and coming international art curator. 

She was gonna turn it into a fucking masterpiece.

Chapter Text

When Mira strolled into the Sunlight Entertainment HQ, she knew she stood out like a sore thumb.

Despite the colorful, loud brand image Sunshine Records currently had, the lobby of the building was sleek and monochrome. It reminded Mira too much of her home growing up and the way the heels of her boot clacked against the polished marble floors made her skin crawl. As much as she wanted to do a 180 and march right back out the door, she had a job to do and she was going to do it.

“Hello! Do you have an appointment, Miss …?” A receptionist in a painfully crisp looking suit greeted Mira as she strolled up to the desk. Their smile was clean and sterile, just like everything else around them.

“Hong. And no. I’m here to see Bobby.”

“Well, Miss Hong, I’m afraid you’d need an appointment.” The receptionist said, smile unwavering despite how dismissive their voice turned.

“Actually, no, I don’t. I’m Rumi’s partner and I need to speak to him on her behalf.”

“Oh, uh,” The receptionist cowed a bit, especially after Mira turned her Resting Bitch Face up to ten.

“Just call him and tell him Hong Mira is here and if he tells you he won’t see me, I’ll leave.”

“Y-yes, Miss Hong.” The receptionist ducked their head, picking up a phone and jabbing a few buttons. There were a few moments of quiet until they perked up, likely from Bobby answering. “Yes, I have a Hong Mira to see you. Shall I send her – okay, understood.”

Returning the phone to the receiver, the receptionist gave Mira another plastic, perfect smile. “Mr. Cho will be down shortly.”

Honestly, Mira had to resist saying “I told you so” with a sneer, electing that she could survive without terrorizing some random corporate drone for one day. Instead, she waited exactly where she was standing, almost tapping her foot impatiently but stopping at the first annoying clack of her heel against the floor again.

It didn’t take long for Bobby to scurry out of an elevator, his posture tense and his smile strained.

“Mira! This is a bit of a surprise.” He greeted.

If Mira had two main talents, it was striking fear in people and knowing when she was striking fear in people.

Bobby was terrified.

“Can we talk privately? I need a favor.” Mira cut to the chase, not wanting to stand in a painfully shiny, cold lobby any longer than she had to.

Bobby’s throat visibly flexed as he swallowed, looking like he wanted to do nothing more than run away in terror. Instead, he nodded, leading Mira to the elevator and through the sea of cubicles and conference rooms that led to his office. She knew the much bigger office next to his with the door tightly shut was Rumi’s, empty due to its owner being too much of an emotional wreck to leave her house.

To Mira’s relief, Bobby’s office wasn’t nearly as austere as the rest of the building she’d seen so far. Mira sunk into a well cushioned chair across from Bobby’s desk, watching as he sat down in his chair own on the other side.

“So, what can I help you with?” Bobby asked, grabbing a stress ball off of his desk and squeezing it so hard that Mira half expected it to turn to dust.

“I need help with Rumi.”

Bobby’s forced pleasant smile dropped immediately, his grip going lax on the stress ball.

“Oh.”

“Yeah. Oh.” Mira parrotted. She toned down her RBF for a bit, relaxing back into the chair and trying to appear a little more nonthreatening.

“What exactly do you need help with? She hasn’t exactly told me much about what’s going on.”

“What has she told you?”

“That things with Zoey fell through because of a really bad miscommunication.” He paused, mulling over how much more he wanted to say before continuing, “And that it was her fault.”

Mira let out a deep sigh, pinching the bridge of her nose. “Of course she blames herself.”

“When has she not?” For once, Bobby sounded openly tired. From the sparse interactions she’s had with him and the plethora of stories Rumi has told her, Mira knew Bobby was a master at projecting optimism. He was always the most energetic and composed person in the room.

This Bobby? Mira had a feeling he rarely let anyone see it. Or never, really.

“So, will you help me?”

“You’re talking to the person who helped Rumi figure out how to get Mi-Jin to latch.” Bobby said, entirely deadpan. “Of course I’m going to help you. What do you need?”

“I need you to–”

Bobby’s office door suddenly opened, Celine strolling in like she - well, she did kind of own the place. She had a tablet in hand, not even looking up.

“Bobby, do you have any updates on Rumi? I need to confirm her attendance for the gala.” Absolutely no nonsense, per usual. Mira had never directly spoken to Celine, but she’d heard more than enough from Rumi secondhand. She knew the exact type of business woman Celine was, not as cutthroat as her own mother but icy nonetheless.

“Unfortunately, she’s still sick.” Mira said before Bobby could get a word out, putting all of the venom and disdain she could in her voice. Celine’s head snapped up, her face full of surprise and borderline indignance at Mira’s tone.

“And you are?” There was a certain displeased curl to Celine’s lip and Bobby shot up from his seat, rushing to defuse the potential war in his office.

“This is Hong Mira, Rumi’s new partner that she mentioned. Mira, this is Celine. I’m sure Rumi has told you about her.”

“Oh, she definitely has.” Mira’s eyes were locked with Celine’s, the air charged with tension. Celine took a sharp inhale through her nose, forcibly smoothing a blank expression back over her face.

“Well, it is nice to meet you, Miss Hong. Bobby? Come to my office when you’re done with this … meeting.”

Lips drawn tight and shoulders tense, Bobby nodded. Just as posture perfect as she strolled in, Celine departed, the door shutting with a sharp click. After a long silence, Bobby let out a deep exhale, slumping back into his chair. His wary eyes dragged back over to Mira.

“So, what do you need help with?”

***

It was the fourth night in a row that Mira had stayed over, the longest streak thus far.

She didn’t even really have to ask anymore. All it would take it the clock hitting a certain time and Rumi sharing a look with her for it to be decided.

It made Rumi feel greedy. She even felt guilty about it, but Mira was very clear that she was thrilled to share a bed with Rumi whenever she could. Any time Rumi began second guessing herself, Mira was there, pressing her against the pillows and kissing the doubts away.

Mentally, Rumi was still a mess when it came to the Zoey situation. Mi-Jin had thrown multiple tantrums about missing “Auntie Zoey”, especially because Rumi’s vague answers about when she’d be returning were extremely unsatisfactory in her daughter’s opinion.

At the very least, she managed to get out of bed and do basic tasks like a functioning human being and Celine had stopped emailing her every two hours for whatever blessed reason.

“We should go out on another date.”

Rumi made a confused noise at the sudden statement from Mira, her mind lagging behind as Mira’s expert hands massaged lotion into her back. She had just gotten out of the long shower she indulged in while Mira put Mi-Jin to bed and now was practically a blissed out puddle under Mira’s touch.

“A date?” She parrotted, slurring her words a bit.

“Yes, a date. Those things where we put on pretty clothes, go out to eat together, and then go home to fuck each other’s brains out if we feel like it.” Mira said. Rumi flushed a bit, having been feeling the repercussions of her sudden bout of celibacy. Finally getting laid after a six year dry spell had turned her … rather needy, admittedly. She couldn’t bring herself to actually let loose enough to indulge with how chaotic her mind was, though.

“And who would watch Mi-Jin? I don’t exactly have a sitter right now.”

“Bobby. Duh.”

Rumi twisted around to look back at Mira, brows pinched together. “You know I don’t like making him do extra work. He’s already so–”

“Just ask him, at least.” Mira interrupted, giving her shoulder a shove to make her lie back down. “If he gives you anything less than the most enthusiastic ‘yes’ you’ve ever heard in your life, we can table the idea. Okay?”

“... Fine.”

All of the sudden, Rumi’s phone was dropped right next to her head. She squinted at it for a moment and then scoffed. “I’m not going to call him right this second, Mira. It’s late.”

“Babe, it is 9pm. I can assure you most people above the age of 10 are still awake.”

“You’re not gonna let this wait, are you.”

“Nope.” Mira said, popping the ‘p’. She shoved the phone closer to Rumi’s hand. “Go on. Call him.”

“You are ridiculous.” Rumi was grabbing the phone, anyway, cringing a bit as she pulled up Bobby’s contact. She already had a dozen apologies on the tip of her tongue, half hoping he wouldn’t answer so she wouldn’t feel as bad.

After two whole rings, he answered.

“Hey, Rumi! What’s up?”

“Uh, hey! I, uh, kind of have a favor to ask?” Rumi swore she could feel Mira’s stare burning into her from behind. She awkwardly shuffled from underneath her, sitting up to at least have this conversation without her partner straddling her thighs.

“What’s the favor?”

“Can you maybe babysit Mi-Jin? Just once until we figure everything out.” She wasn’t sure what kind of response she was hoping for. Of course she wanted to go on a date with Mira and potentially/probably have her “brains fucked out” by her. That didn’t mean she didn’t feel bad about asking him.

“Of course! I’d love to babysit Mi-Jin!” Bobby’s response was instant. It was bright and cheery like some spokesperson in a coffee commercial with the sun shining behind them. It honestly took Rumi a bit by surprise.

“Are you sure? I know Celine probably has you–”

“I’m absolutely sure. Just tell me what day and I will be there.”

“O … kay. Thank you, Bobby.”

“No problem. Goodnight Rumi!”

After the call ended, Rumi handed the phone back to Mira to put it back on the nightstand. Mira’s face practically screamed “I told you so”

“Stop being so smug and kiss me to sleep.” Rumi huffed, flopping back onto the blankets. Mira happily laid next to her, pressing kisses onto her pouting lips.

“So beautiful. So feisty.” Mira cooed in between warm kisses. Rumi could feel a traitorous smile pull across her face.

“You’re so corny.”

“And you love it.”

***

Zoey felt like she was sweating buckets.

Not just because she was lugging a huge painting around, though that certainly didn’t help.

It was mostly because she was seeing Mira for what would be the last time, probably.

The portrait was done, much to Zoey’s relief. She wanted to feel accomplished about it - it was her best work by fair - but she mostly was just relieved to get it out of her apartment. Every day, she had to look at an image of one of the two women that haunted her mind and made her heart ache. With it gone, Zoey could return to the way things used to be and put the entire painful mess behind her.

Unfortunately she had to go into the belly of the beast herself. When Zoey had texted her that the portrait was done, Mira informed her that her car was at the mechanic and that she very well couldn’t come get the painting on her motorcycle.

The quickest way to get it over with was for Zoey to deliver it. Mira hadn’t hesitated to send her address.

She tried not to feel like she was walking to her own execution when she approached the door to Mira’s apartment, gently setting down the painting to give the door two sharp knocks. Zoey had to focus on remembering to breathe as she heard shuffling on the other side, wiping her sweaty palms against her jeans.

The door opened, Mira’s appearing in the doorway completely unsurprised at Zoey’s arrival.

“You’re here! Perfect. Go ahead and bring the painting in.” She stepped off to the side, holding the door open for Zoey. Swallowing down the dry lump in her throat, Zoey picked the painting back up and hobbled in with it, looking around the apartment.

It was a lot of crushed velvet and jewel tones mixed with black and neon, like someone had turned old-time luxury into a loud punk-rock aesthetic. Sure enough, the walls were adorned with amazing paintings in different styles and colors, likely a scrapbook of Mira’s career as a curator. There was one bare spot in the perfect size for the portrait to go, between two floor to ceiling length windows framed with purple velvet curtains and gold trim.

“Is right there okay?” Zoey nodded towards the spot. Mira had shut the door behind Zoey and was now leaning against it, looking suspiciously pleased with herself.

“Yep. You just stay right there.”

“What do you–”

She was cut off by another voice. Not Mira’s.

“It’s comical that we thought anything of yours could possibly fit me, Mira.”

Zoey froze. She knew that voice. She could imagine the face it belonged to in perfect detail, down to every scar that was usually hidden under makeup. It was burned into her memory.

Almost mechanically, Zoey turned her face towards the source – towards Rumi – strolling out from down the hallway wearing a sweater that was far too long for her. The sleeves were bunched up to keep them from drooping over her fingers and the length made it look more like a dress. Her purple hair was damp as if she just got out of the shower and her face was bare.

“Zoey? What are you doing here?” Rumi looked just as shocked as Zoey felt, her face paling.

“I invited her here.” Mira answered before Zoey could. All of the sudden, her smug demeanor made too much sense. She was still leaning against the front door, preventing either of them from bolting.

Rumi’s eyes went wide and she whipped her gaze towards MIra. “Did you spill your drink on me on purpose?!”

“Yep.” Mira answered with no hesitation and no shame, popping the ‘p’. “I was worried I would get the timing off, but it all worked out.”

“You tricked us?” Zoey was also focused on Mira now, shoving the portrait against the wall and taking a step towards her.

“Yes, I tricked you.” Mira was looking at her nails, entirely unbothered. “I couldn’t think of a way to get you guys in the same room other than this. Behold,” she gestured to the entire apartment. “Neutral ground. Kind of.”

Zoey turned back towards Rumi. “Why are you here?”

“Mira and I were on a date and she spilled her milk tea on me. Why are you here?”

“She told me to drop off her portrait!”

They didn’t come off as accusations, both Zoey and Rumi far too flabbergasted for their questions to have a biting edge to them. Rumi turned her attention back to Mira

“You can’t just lock us in here, Mira. What are you trying to do?”

“I’m not locking you in.” Mira rebuked, earning a scoff from Rumi in reply. “I’m simply resting. Against my front door. I’ll move in like … ten minutes.”

Zoey squinted at Mira. “And why, exactly?”

“Because you can either spend ten minutes staring at each other in awkward silence or you can stop cowering and actually talk to each other.”

Both Zoey and Rumi stood there, slack jawed and staring at Mira.

Zoey was at a total loss. What was there to talk about?

Hey! I’m sorry I embarrassed myself by getting naked for money - specifically YOUR money and then showed up to babysit your daughter.

Not a fucking chance.

It seemed Rumi had a similar amount ready to say, given the small glance Zoey gave her out of the corner of her eye. It was painfully awkward and Mira’s patience was visibly thinning. She groaned, her head thunking against the door.

“Why must both of the people I’m into be so hopeless?”

Two sets of eyes, wide with confusion and shock, locked back on to Mira.

“Wait, you also have feelings for her?” Rumi said.

“I mean, yeah. But so do you.” Mira replied.

Zoey felt like she had been punched. “I’m sorry, what?”

Rumi’s mouth audibly clicked shut. She didn’t repeat anything, but she also didn’t deny anything either. Of course Zoey knew Rumi was attracted to her sexually, but the way Mira had said it was different. She had alluded to it when she showed up suddenly at Zoey’s apartment.

“You mean to tell me,” Zoey said, a hysterical edge to her voice. “That both of you apparently have feelings for me?”

“Yes. We do.” Mira answered. Rumi was floundering, her jaw opening and closing while no words came out. Before she could stop herself, Zoey started laughing.

It was loud and fueled by pure disbelief, made worse by the tears that started welling up in her eyes. She felt like she was going insane and probably looked the part, too. Her apparent psychotic break finally got Rumi to remember how to speak.

“That’s not why I hired you! I swear I had no idea you were SunneeZee until you showed up for the first time. I just–”

“Are you guys actually going to sit down and talk so I don’t have to stand in front of this door for another eight minutes?” Mira halted Rumi’s ramblings, far too familiar with her tendency to word vomit.

Laughter calming down, Zoey managed to get her feet to work enough to get to one of Mira’s plush couches, sagging onto the cushions. She was staring blankly at her own lap, not moving a single inch even as she felt the weight of Rumi sinking down onto the other side.

“Good job, guys. I’m very proud of you.”

There was the sound of Mira getting hit with something soft, Zoey seeing the pillow Rumi threw at her hitting the ground from the corner of her eye. There was another lull of silence as Mira sat down on a different couch across from them, crossing one leg over the other. It made Zoey feel like she and Rumi were somehow in therapy together with Mira as the shrink.

“I really didn’t know you and SunneeZee were the same person.” Rumi eventually said, voice painfully small. Zoey managed to not wince at Rumi saying her screenname again, letting her eyes slip closed as she took a deep, steadying breath through her nose.

“I know.”

“You know?”

“I know.” Zoey repeated. “You wouldn’t do that. I don’t think you’re that kind of person.” She could hear Rumi let out a huge sigh of relief. “But why didn’t you turn down the private show? Why accept it, knowing it was me? Why give me so much money with no explanation?”

“I was scared that you needed the money really badly. Why else would you break one of your main rules?”

Zoey’s head snapped up, her face twisted in confusion. “I was scared something had happened to my top donor! Like, what if I had done something wrong?”

“I’m the one who did something wrong, not you!” Rumi’s head was no longer held in shame either. The two were facing each other fully, both sounding absolutely hysterical.

“You said you didn’t know!”

“I didn’t!”

“Then you didn’t do anything wrong!”

Zoey had yelled it with so much conviction and urgency that she felt like she had been winded. It had certainly shocked Rumi into silence, her jaw falling slack. Tension hung heavy in the air, feeling like string pulled tight and ready to snap in the space between her and Zoey on the couch.

“So,” Mira piped up, startling both of them. “I’m glad we’ve come to a consensus that nobody here has done anything wrong.” She paused, lips pursing for a moment. “Minus the live show thing, but I think that was a shit decision with good intentions more than anything.”

“Y-Yeah.” Zoey agreed weakly. Rumi’s throat visibly flexed as she swallowed, but she still nodded.

“Awesome. Next point of order – Rumi.” Mira had her snapping to attention, looking like a deer caught in headlights. “You have romantic feelings for Zoey. Zoey also has romantic feelings for you.”

“She does?” Rumi said, almost choking on the words.

“Yes. She has told me about it in great detail.”

“Hey!” Zoey nearly shot up from the couch, indignance blooming in her chest.

“And I have the same feelings for both of you.” Mira ignored Zoey’s outburst entirely. “So I pose one simple question.”

“... Yes?” Both Rumi and Zoey said, both of them a little on edge.

“Why the fuck are we making a big deal of this? Like, honestly, what in the world is the issue here?”

Rumi still looked extremely confused, brows pinched together. Zoey tried to not think about how she managed to still look devastatingly pretty with her face twisted up like that.

“And what exactly should we be doing?” Rumi asked.

Mira shrugged. “I dunno. Making out about it or something.”

Zoey choked on air, feeling heat rush to her face. She nearly doubled over, barely registering Rumi scooting towards her in a panic, probably to make sure she wasn’t keeling over and dying.

“Are you trying to say,” Zoey wheezed between coughs, “That me and Rumi should ‘make out about it’?”

“Duh.”

“Just because I’m a camgirl doesn’t mean–”

“It’s not because you’re a camgirl, Zoey. It’s because we have actual feelings for you. Right, Rumi?”

Zoey looked over to Rumi, seeing her with her lips drawn tight. Her head dipped in a sharp nod. Zoey felt more laughter bubbling in her chest, burying her face in her hands with a groan.

“This … this is … I don’t even know.”

“Good or bad?” Mira asked. “You’ve got to at least know that.”

Zoey took a deep, shaking breath. “Good. Too good.”

Rumi’s own breath hitched, pink blossoming high on her cheeks. Looking painfully smug, Mira stood from her seat.

“I’m going to grab us some water. Feel free to figure some shit out while I’m gone.”

***

It was beyond overwhelming.

Rumi had stepped into Mira’s apartment for clean clothes and to wash the sticky milk tea off of her skin from where it had seeped through her sweater. Seeing Zoey had been … so legendarily unexpected.

But of course it was Mira’s plan. Only Mira could pull shit like this for her sake.

And now Zoey apparently had feelings for her? For a tired, scarred widow/mother with more baggage than an airport luggage carousel? It made no fucking sense. None at all.

“You and Mira are together.” Zoey’s voice cut through her internal spiralling, Rumi perking up like a dog who had heard a strange noise.

“... yes? I thought you knew this.”

“I did. So why risk it?”

“Risk what?”

“Ruining it for me.” Zoey said. It took Rumi by surprise, not sure what Zoey was implying. It must have been obvious from her reaction, because Zoey continued. “What you have with Mira is so wonderful. Involving me is changing it and changing it is dangerous. Things fall apart when they change.”

“Zoey, you are wonderful.” Rumi said, heavy and earnest. “Everything about you is.”

Zoey scoffed, crossing her arms and slouching to hide her face. Seeing someone like Zoey so closed off felt wrong and Rumi wasn’t going to stand for it.

“Zoey, you are so unbelievably kind. You make Mi-Jin so happy and I feel like our life has been brighter with you in it. Who wouldn’t want to take a risk on you? You’re perfect. You’re like this shining miracle that waltzed into my life.”

Zoey’s shoulders relaxed a bit, but she remained curled up. “I’m not perfect. You’re perfect.” It was Rumi’s turn to scoff.

“I am so far from perfect, Zoey. I’m the one who’s not worth the risk.”

Zoey straightened up, whirling towards Rumi looking borderline offended. “Don’t say that! You’re like, the most beautiful person I’ve ever met! Every bit of you is just so easy to fall in love with. Mira would go to the ends of the Earth for you and I can see why every time I see you. I don’t care about the scars or anything. I look at you and see this wonderful soul who deserves the world.”

“... Mira says that, too.”

“Mira is kind of a fucking genius.”

Mira’s laugh caused them to jolt as she strolled back in, setting two glasses of water on the coffee table in front of them. “Damn right I am. You guys kiss yet?”

“Mira!” they both cried out in unison, their faces sporting identical shades of red. Mira only laughed again, looking like the cat who got the canary.

Once the embarrassment faded away, they did what Mira had trapped them in her apartment to do.

They talked.

Chapter Text

Talking had been the scary part. What came next was just … confusing.

When Zoey imagined what her love life would look like, it was significantly less.

Her dream partners weren’t meant to be gorgeous, rich women who she had no business being in the same room as. They certainly weren’t supposed to fall for her without her actually trying to woo them. Most of all, there were two of them.

Like damn, there’s a whole extra person!

Eventually, they decided the best place to start was a date.

Simple in theory, really. Except Zoey was given the honor of planning a date that would somehow be enough to wow two women who had the world at their beck and call if they wanted. That was kind of the point of Zoey taking the lead, though.

“Mira rented out an entire botanical garden after hours and hired a private chef and waitstaff.” Rumi told her, fond exasperation clear on her face. “I don’t want it to seem like we’re throwing money around to impress you.”

“First of all, you loved it.” Mira shot back. “And second of all, you unfortunately have a point.”

They did agree to split the cost with Zoey, though, after they first offered to pay for the whole thing anyway and Zoey immediately shot that down.

It was possibly the most daunting task she had ever been given. That said a lot, given her last babysitting client had colicky twins.

But! They assured her that they were fine with something lowkey and simple. The date itself was just a segue for the three of them to spend time together that didn’t involve some kind of work relationship. Zoey ended up playing to her own strengths, showing up at Rumi’s house with three tickets to her favorite aquarium in Seoul. It ended up being a brilliant idea.

“I’ve never actually been to an aquarium.” Rumi said, staring at her own ticket. She made no effort to hide her excitement and it had Zoey feeling as if she had just won the lottery.

“We can make it a mission to find your new favorite sea animal.” Zoey was bouncing in place, space buns bobbing up and down. She stopped, worry suddenly overtaking her excitement. “Are you going to be okay there? It may be a little crowded.”

Rumi looked up from the ticket, head cocked. “Hm? Yeah, I’ll just have to wear something to hide my identity.”

“No, no. I mean, are you going to be okay being around so many people? I know you get stressed in crowds.”

“Oh, that.” Rumi’s gaze darted to a random spot on the wall, shoulders tensing. Zoey had to resist the urge to hug her, knowing some specific kind of pain in her mind was likely coming to the surface. “It’s mostly just … wanting to avoid someone snapping a photo of me to post on the tabloids. I think it’s been long enough that people have stopped caring about me, though.”

Zoey huffed, crossing her arms in exaggerated indignation. “That’s not true! I still care about you. Mira, too!”

Relaxing a bit, Rumi let out a breathy laugh. “Well, at least warn me if you’re going to start taking pictures of me, then.”

Feeling cheeky, Zoey slowly pulled her phone out of her pocket. Rumi noticed and her hands immediately came up to cover her face.

“Not now! I’m all tired and messy right now!” She protested, which was pure blasphemy to Zoey. Sure, Rumi was still in her pajamas and bare-faced, having stayed home with Mi-Jin under the guise of still recovering from her bout of illness. Still, Zoey was smitten and therefore still saw one of the most beautiful women in the world.

“Nonsense. I’d happily set you as my wallpaper no matter what state you’re in!”

“God, you’re just as bad as Mira! So corny!”

“Guilty as charged.” Zoey tucked her phone back into her pocket, turning to call out to Mi-Jin. “Time for me to go, Mimi! Come get hugs!”

Mi-Jin shot up from where she had been scribbling random English words in the sketchbook Zoey had gifted to her, torpedoing into Zoey’s arms the second she crouched down.

“You’re coming back again, right?” Mi-Jin asked, squeezing Zoey so tight that she felt her ribs ache.

“Of course! We’re gonna make pie next, just like you wanted.”

“Cheesecake pie!”

That most definitely was not a thing Zoey knew how to make, nor was Zoey even sure that was a thing that existed.

Oh, well. She’d figure it out.

***

When it came to getting ready for the date, Rumi was somehow more nervous than when she was getting ready for her date with Mira.

Maybe it was because it was double the stakes or maybe it was because she was scared of disappointing Zoey’s expectations. Mira had let it slip before that Zoey had been a fan of hers in the past and Rumi damn well knew those days of superstar perfection were far behind her. As much as Rumi tried to shake her habit of self-deprecation, it was difficult.

Because really, Zoey was over a decade younger than her. She was youthful, energetic, and while Rumi wouldn’t assume she was free of baggage, she was pretty sure Zoey lacked the "I watched my husband die in a freak accident that left me permanently disfigured” level of baggage.

She took a long look at herself in the mirror, having just finished covering her scars with concealer. She found herself focusing on every wrinkle, every blemish, every indication on her face that time has passed.

“... Am I a cougar?” she asked her own reflection. It wasn’t like she made a habit of dating younger women. Hell, she hadn’t ever made a habit of dating at all. She shook her head. “No, no. I think you have to be like … at least 40 for that.”

“Rumi!” Bobby’s voice called from downstairs. “They’re here!”

“I’ll be right down!” she called back, haphazardly shoving her makeup back into her bag. She made sure the bun she had her hair tied in was nice and tight, perfect for fitting a bucket hat over it. With a mask to hide half of her face, she deemed that was more than enough to keep any critical eyes away.

She even strayed towards a part of her closet that had long since been untouched - a pair of designer jeans with a soft turtleneck. Not her usual options of stuffy office wear or baggy lounge clothes. It honestly felt a little too young of an outfit for her, but she supposed maybe that would help her blend in more at the aquarium.

When she got downstairs, she was quick to give Mi-Jin a kiss goodbye and Bobby a fast hug. She already planned ahead of time that she would meet Zoey and Mira outside. If Mi-Jin saw either of them, there was no chance that she would be anything other than an absolute nightmare for Bobby to babysit.

She hurried out the door and down the driveway, where Mira’s car was waiting. Zoey hopped out of the passenger side, her smile wide and brilliant in a way that made Rumi’s heart flutter. It seemed she had also gone out of her way to dress a little differently, wearing a sky blue dress with a sunflower yellow cardigan.

Rumi had only ever seen her in jeans, hoodies, and t-shirts. Always clothes that could take some wear and tear, whether it be from the messes kids make or the messes she made herself when she was painting.

Well, that wasn’t the only kind of clothes she’d seen Zoey in. The other ones she had seen would get Zoey arrested, most likely. She was still trying not to think about that.

“Oh my god, Mira!” Zoey whacked the roof of the car, triggering a sound of protest from Mira inside. “Look, look! She’s so cute!”

There was the sound of a window being rolled down, Mira’s head poking out to get a look for herself. Her jaw went slack immediately. “Holy shit. That should be, like, illegal. What the fuck, Rumi?”

Rumi looked at Mira, then down at herself, then back at Mira again, looking hopelessly confused. Mira shook her head with a fond smile.

“Just get in the car before Zoey explodes!”

***

When they got to the aquarium, Rumi was more on edge than she realized she would be.

As it turns out, even if she had been so sure she wouldn’t catch anybody’s eye, the fear of it still plagued her. Mira of course noticed, stepping closer to Rumi and grabbing her hand, giving it a squeeze. Zoey noticed a second later, doing the exact same on Rumi’s other side. Most of the anxiety melted away now that she had two pseudo-shields at her side.

She felt vaguely coddled and she wasn’t exactly sure how she felt about that.

“So you’ve been here before?” Rumi asked Zoey, trying to ignore the warmth of being sandwiched between her and Mira.

“Oh, tons of times! I know this place like the back of my hand!” Zoey said. She was already a few steps ahead, tugging Rumi and Mira along by the chain of handholding they had going on. “Do you have a favorite sea animal, Mira?”

Mira gave a contemplative hum. “Mm. Sharks, probably.”

Zoey snorted. “Of course you would choose sharks. They seem all scary but deep down they’re little softies. Did you know that sharks can be put in a trance if you flip them upside down? Perfect for belly rubs.”

“I did not know that, but I do now.” Mira’s voice had a teasing edge, though one that sounded fond rather than snide. Rumi could feel that same fondness pulsing in her chest, seeing Zoey so animated and unrestrained as she continued spewing animal facts left and right.

“-And dolphins are actually kind of assholes. Y’know how orcas are called killer whales? They aren’t actually whales. They’re dolphins that kill whales. It’s like if evil had a blowhole. They also play around with pufferfish to get high, too.”

“So you’re telling me dolphins know how to party?” Mira asked.

“Yes, but like, bad partying. If dolphins were people, they’d probably steal cars and push old people into crosswalks.”

Rumi laughed this time, light and airy. “That is so unbelievably specific.”

Zoey turned her nose up in a comically haughty expression. “I take marine biology very seriously! The moral bankruptcy of dolphins is a proven science.”

“Your favorites are sea turtles, right?”

That made Zoey perk up, a giddy smile on her face. “Yes! How did you know?”

“I just figured since turtles are your favorite animal.”

There was a pause, Zoey stopping midstep. “I mean, yeah, but how did you know that?”

Rumi immediately realized her slip up, her face turning red almost instantly. It didn’t take long for Zoey to put two and two together either, letting out a nervous laugh and sporting a blush of her own. Their behavior had Mira thoroughly confused.

“What? What’s wrong?” she looked between Zoey and Rumi, who despite still holding hands, were pointedly avoiding looking at each other. “...Oh my god, this is a ‘Zee’ thing, isn’t it?”

“I plead the fifth.” Zoey said.

Rumi’s head cocked in confusion. “What does that even mean?”

Laughing, Mira took the liberty of continuing walking forward, dragging Rumi and Zoey along this time. “It’s an American thing, babe. Just wait til you hear all the confusing shit Zoey says when she gets keyed up.”

***

Zoey ended up babbling nonstop about every animal they passed by, getting looks from other patrons who were trying to figure out whether or not she was a tour guide. Some kids even came to gather around during her spiels and it was funny how her PG switch immediately flipped when a kid came in earshot.

When Rumi paused a bit longer at the beluga whales than she did at the other exhibits, a lightbulb in Zoey’s head went off.

“Do you like this one?” she asked, pointing at one of the whales who was swimming in wide circles near the glass. Rumi nodded, her eyes not leaving the whale. “Belugas are called the canaries of the sea. They make a lot of different noises like chirps, whistles, and clicking. It’s like they’re singing little songs to each other. I can show you a video of it later, if you want.”

“That’d be nice.” Rumi said, voice soft. She was still watching the whale twirl and glide through the water. “I think this one might be my favorite.”

Joy sprung forth in Zoey’s heart, barely able to keep herself from squealing with glee. “Really? I think it suits you really well, too. They’re all soft and cute and they’re really good singers, like you!”

There was a flash of something heavier across Rumi’s face, her lips pulling into a frown for a fraction of a second before smoothing out again. Even Mira reacted a bit to the last part of that sentence, wincing.

“I was a good singer.” Rumi’s demeanor changed to sad and quiet, her eyes dropping from the whales and onto the ground. She took a deep, calming breath. “... I think I want to sit down. Mira, can you grab me some water?”

“Sure. I’ll be right back.” Mira gave Rumi a quick kiss on the forehead before slipping away, leaving Zoey to lead her to a nearby bench. The quick change in tone had Zoey’s joy turning to anxiety, her palms feeling a bit sweatier than they should be. She didn’t like how quickly Rumi’s quiet joy turned into quiet sadness, her heart aching as something bitter tinged Rumi’s smile.

“... Did I say something wrong?” she asked, nerves making her voice a little shaky. Rumi gave a single sad huff of laughter, shaking her head.

“No, not really.” Rumi’s eyes didn’t leave her lap, her shoulders sagging but her hand still in Zoey’s. Zoey took it as a good sign when she didn’t pull it away. “I sometimes just get reminded of sad things.”

“Something I said reminded you of a sad thing, didn’t it? When I mentioned the singing thing.”

Rumi nodded. “Yeah.”

“Are you … not able to anymore?”

Rumi shook her head. “Not like I used to.”

Zoey could feel her heart aching for Rumi. She knew there was likely infinitely more to the story, but she wasn’t about to have Rumi bare her soul in the middle of an aquarium where screaming children were bouncing around. Taking a risk, she scooted closer to Rumi, pulling her into a half hug. She could feel Rumi stiffen for a moment before the tension gradually melted away. Rumi’s face ended up tucked against her shoulder, Zoey’s cheek pressed atop the bucket hat covering a head of purple hair.

“I’m not much of a singer myself. Absolutely tone deaf. I’m surprised I haven’t been banned from every Noraebang I torture with my presence.” Zoey joked in an attempt to lift the mood. It seemed to work. She felt Rumi’s shoulders shake a bit and the huff of laughter against her shoulder.

“Y’know, I’ve never been to one of those either.” Rumi said. She still spoke with a bit of a sad crackle tinging her words, but her smile softened into something less bitter. She lifted her head back up and her gaze wandered back over to the whales. One was swimming in place in front of the glass, seemingly entranced by a group of kids making funny faces at it. “They sound fun.”

“Maybe we can go to one. You don’t even have to sing if you don’t want to. Does Mira sing?’

“Do I what now?” Mira practically materialized next to them, causing them both to jolt and let out surprised little shrieks. She had two bottles of water in her hands, one already held out towards Rumi.

“How does someone so tall move so stealthy?” Zoey wheezed, holding a hand to her chest to try and calm her hammering heart. Mira gave her a sharp grin, clearly pleased with herself.

“Grace and poise.”

“Damn, you right.”

Rumi took the bottle with a grateful smile, uncapping it to take a sip. She cleared her throat, as if urging the previous sadness in her voice away. “Zoey already has an idea for our next date. How do you feel about Noraebang?”

Zoey’s heart felt like a piece of sunshine was lodged into its center.

Our next date.

***

Without any exaggeration, the date was a total success and an absolute blast. Mira watched with utter glee as the smiles and laughs Rumi usually had so carefully guarded were pulled to the surface easier and easier. It was as if Zoey radiated the sunlight Rumi needed to blossom and thrive.

Mira was a bit worried that seeing Zoey and Rumi hitting it off so well would spark at least a little bit of jealousy. She was pleasantly surprised to find only affection for both of them. As much as Mira loved watching Zoey bounce to and fro, the urge to grab her by the hips and taste that 1000-megawatt smile was becoming stronger and stronger with every exhibit they stopped at.

Fuck. I can see why she had Rumi so down bad. Mira thought, watching as Zoey convinced Rumi that they should all try to feed each other their ramyeon. It was an absolute disaster, given that Zoey wouldn’t sit still and stop giggling whenever it was her turn to be fed. Her bubbly energy was infectious, Rumi nearly choking on her food from laughing so hard.

By the time they got back to Mira’s apartment to wind down, Mira could feel her cheeks aching from smiling so much.

“I have regrets.” Mira griped, collapsing onto one of the couches. She tugged her super chic heeled boots off, feeling her feet ache.

“I told you we’d be walking a bunch today!” Zoey said. If Mira had melted onto the couch, Zoey basically bounced onto it, jostling Mira. Rumi followed close behind, sitting down on Zoey’s other side like a normal human being.

“Okay, yeah, but these shoes are cute as hell.” Mira held up one of the discarded boots, showing it off before carelessly tossing it away. With a pleased sigh, she kicked her socked feet up onto the coffee table. “God, that was fun, but couch time always hits different.”

“Couch, couch, couch, couch,” Zoey chanted, shoving her own shoes off and away. Her socks were patterned with little hamsters and Mira found it so unbelievably and so unfairly adorable. Rumi’s shoes came off in the way she did everything, quiet and polite, setting them neatly off to the side and out of the way,

“How much longer is Bobby watching Mi-Jin for?” Mira asked, drawing Rumi’s attention.

“Oh, uh,” Rumi fished her phone out of her pocket, opening the lockscreen and squinting at the time. “Just another hour.”

“Oh, what do you guys wanna do? We can watch something or just sit and chill.” Zoey said, pointing at Mira’s appallingly large TV.

After a moment of thought, an idea popped into Mira’s head and a sharp grin spread across her lips. She could see Rumi notice it from over Zoey’s shoulder and she was willing to bet Rumi knew exactly what kind of antics she was about to be up to.

“I have a proposal.” Mira said simply. Zoey cocked her head.

“What is it?”

“It depends.” Mira crossed one leg over the other, smooth as silk. Turning the seduction up to eleven, she leaned closer into Zoey’s space. She couldn’t help but notice how Zoey’s eyes went wide and her throat flexed. “Do you kiss on the first date?”

She heard Rumi let out an indignant cry of her name, but her attention was entirely on Zoey.

Zoey, who took Mira’s antics in stride.

“Sometimes. Is someone looking to get kissed on the first date?” Zoey shot back, an innocent smile on her face as she bat her eyelashes at Mira.

Oh, this is gonna be fun.

“I think I do.” Mira hummed. Just as Zoey was leaning closer, Mira grasped her chin and very slowly turned Zoey’s head to the other side.

Towards Rumi.

“I think there’s a patient person over there who would love to be kissed on the first date.”

Mira could see Rumi’s breath hitch and her face begin to flush, clearly taken off guard by 100% of the attention now being directed towards her. Zoey’s innocent smile turned into a grin almost as sharp as Mira’s.

“Hm. I think so, too.” Zoey turned her body fully towards Rumi, creeping closer to her on the couch. Rumi was frozen in place, those precious doe eyes Mira loved so much turning into full on deer in headlights. Her eyes darted from Mira, to Zoey, to Zoey’s lips, and back.

“Y-You don’t have to do that.” Rumi stammered out, always the one to deny herself something because she thinks it will be more convenient for others.

Mira laughed, dark and low. “Oh, but I think Zoey wants to.”

“I definitely want to.” Zoey confirmed. She crept ever closer until her thighs were pressed against Rumi’s and the air grew warm with their own bated breaths. “Do you want to?”

While Rumi’s face was expertly covered in makeup to hide her scars, the flush creeping down her neck gave away that it was probably bright red. Her breathing got shallow and for a second, Mira was worried she was about to start hyperventilating.

Finally, Rumi visibly gulped and gave a single, shaky nod.

Mira craned her neck just in time to get a side profile view of Zoey’s precious, toothy smile before it disappeared to press against Rumi’s own slack mouth. Mira swore she heard Rumi whine for a second, followed by a small, muffled giggle that was so distinctly Zoey.

The kiss only lasted a second, practically over in a blink, but the sight of Rumi and Zoey kissing was definitely branded into Mira’s mind.

“That was okay, right?” Zoey asked, leaning back to give Rumi space to breathe if she needed it. Rumi’s lips were parted and her eyes hazy, rendered dumbstruck by such a quick, chaste  kiss. Blinking and coming back to reality, she nodded again. “Good. I liked it.”

Mira tugged on Zoey’s sleeve to urge her attention back. Zoey faced her again, a curious look on her face and the faintest flush showing underneath her freckles.

“I also kiss on the first date.” Mira said. 

Rumi gave a single huff of a laugh. “We did way more than kiss before our first date.”

It took Zoey a moment to process the words, but Mira could pinpoint the exact moment she did. That smile was back, albeit with an edge it didn’t previously have when they were strolling around on their date. Mira gave Zoey’s clothes a sharper tug, pulling her away from Rumi. “And there’s no need to be so gentle, so give me something to remember, yeah?”

“Aye, aye, captain!” Zoey pressed into Mira’s space, the scent of daisies and lavender flooding Mira’s senses. Without thinking, Mira was steadying Zoey as she got closer, hands falling to loosely grasp Zoey’s waist.

“Dork.” Mira muttered, a half second before her mouth was occupied.

Mira usually didn’t care much for flavored lipglosses, at least when it came to the ones she wore. However, the sticky strawberry taste that hit her tongue from Zoey’s was her new favorite flavor. Of course Zoey would wear something so sweet. Everything about Zoey was sweet. The more time Mira spent with her, the more Mira realized she was getting a bit of a sweet tooth because of Zoey.

Despite the stickiness of Zoey’s lipgloss, their kiss was silky smooth. Lacking Rumi’s reserved nature, Mira was immediately parting her lips against Zoey’s, the two of them angling their heads to press closer and deeper.

If Mira hadn’t already fallen for Zoey, this would have been the deciding moment. Something about the way Zoey couldn’t seem to keep quiet during a kiss, making pleased little hums with every slide of slips, had Mira’s heart doing backflips.

When they parted, Zoey was looking at Mira with a giddy smile. Mira realized right after that she was wearing a matching one.

“Well, damn.” Mira said. “That was nice.”

“Yes it was.” Rumi said absently, eyes locked onto them. Zoey couldn’t help but laugh at her awestruck expression. She reached over to tug Rumi closer, sandwiching herself between her and Mira.

“Is it too soon to make a joke about you enjoying the show?” Zoey teased. Mira laughed, loud and straight from her chest.

All that Rumi managed to do in response to sputter, that embarrassed flush not going anywhere any time soon.

***

While Mira would have been very on board with moving further than just kissing, Rumi had a sitter on the clock and Mira had no desire to rush anything. If she was going to be with Rumi and Zoey, she was going to damn well take her time.

That doesn’t mean they didn’t do other things. They kissed a lot.

Kisses were traded freely between all three of them, Rumi eventually relaxing more into each one. When she and Zoey started honest to god making out, Mira felt like she had a front row seat to the best show in the world.

Of course, Mira took the opportunity to show Zoey exactly how Rumi liked to be kissed. She and Zoey soon had Rumi pinned under them, taking turns showering her in affection until Rumi was a trembling puddle beneath them.

Eventually Rumi’s phone pinged and she managed to extricate herself from their grasp, checking the screen. A frown pulled at the corner of her kiss-bruised lips.

“Hey, Mira? Can I borrow a charger? My phone is almost dead.” Rumi asked, sluggishly rising to her feet. It almost looked like she had gotten drunk from their kisses alone.

“Yeah. There should be one or two in my office.”

As soon as Rumi walked away, Zoey was whirling back to Mira, that beloved grin full of mischief and hunger. Figuring they could bide their time while Rumi found what she needed, Mira hauled Zoey into her lap, eliciting a happy squeal from her.

“You are so,” Mira pressed her lips against Zoey’s, “fucking” another kiss, “adorable.” another, “What the hell?”

“And you’re basically a supermodel, so what the hell?” Zoey shot back. “It’s a shame we don’t have longer. I want to keep kissing Rumi more.”

“It is addictive.”

“Thank you for helping me get hooked.” Zoey was leaning in again, Mira meeting her halfway.

It was so difficult for Mira, feeling Zoey’s skirt drape across her lap and not letting her hands wander. She wasn’t going to do anything with Zoey without Rumi present, which meant that as soon as they dropped Rumi back off, Zoey would be dropped off at her place right after. All three of them would be parting, high off of the memories of the smiles and kisses they were sharing.

“MIRA! What the hell is this?!”

Rumi’s shout broke her and Zoey out of the embrace, both looking equally startled. Mira was hopelessly confused, wondering what Rumi could have possibly found in her office that–

Ah, fuck.

The corkboard.

Chapter Text

It was kind of ridiculous how at 33 years old, Rumi still felt like a child about to be scolded whenever she had to meet with Celine.

To be fair, she had a lot of experience that justified it. Celine wasn’t a cruel parental figure growing up, but she wasn’t exactly warm. If Rumi had to describe Celine’s method of raising her, it would be that Celine had clear goals for Rumi and was extremely focused on achieving them.

But she shouldn’t be feeling like that, not when she’s the one who requested this meeting.

“Rumi,” Celine’s voice caught her attention, her head jerking up to see Celine standing in the office doorway. “You wanted to talk?”

“Uh, yeah,” Rumi moved as if to stand from her desk chair, halted by Celine holding her hand up.

“We can talk in your office. No need to move venues.”

“O … kay.” Rumi was already twisting her fingers under her desk, trying to keep the anxiety at bay as Celine sat down across from her. It was a bit of a contrast, seeing how Celine eased into a seat that wasn’t hers while Rumi awkwardly shifted in one that was.

There was a solid ten seconds of silence until Celine raised one brow pointedly at Rumi.

“Oh! Yes! I wanted to talk to you about something!” Rumi straightened up, trying to gather her courage. She cleared her throat, placing her hands atop her desk so she would stop fidgeting. “First I wanted to say that I’m sorry I didn’t go to the gala.”

“That’s fine.”

“I know it was very important to – I’m sorry, what?” Rumi had wholly expected a lecture or at least a disapproving stare, but Celine was just … neutral.

“I said that it’s fine.” Celine clearly saw Rumi’s confusion, continuing. “You would have hated it and it would have been a waste of your time. It was just fancy finger food and useless chatter disguised as ‘making connections’”

Rumi had never heard Celine be so dismissive about things like that. “O-oh.”

“But that’s not what you wanted to talk about, is it?”

“No, no. It’s not.” Rumi could feel her palms sweating, slick against the surface of her desk. One hurdle down, the entire obstacle course left to go. “I’ve been thinking a lot about my job here and what kind of life I want for Mi-Jin and I moving forward.”

She paused, waiting for any interjection. Celine just sat patiently, waiting.

“And I know things have been great now that I have a good sitter, but I’ve come to realize that I have so many things I want to do with Mi-Jin but also so many things I want to do. Mi-Jin grows up faster and faster and I only have so much time and …”

Rumi trailed off, looking down at her hands. She couldn’t look at Celine. Hell, she could barely get the words out of her mouth.

“... I want to quit my job.”

Silence.

Anxiety inducing, heart racing silence.

Celine looked at Rumi, face still neutral, and blinked.

“Okay.”

Rumi did a visible double take.

“Okay?”

“What were you expecting me to say?”

“I–I don’t know. I thought maybe you would try to tell me it’s a bad idea.”

“Why exactly would it be a bad idea?”

Rumi was so unbelievably confused. “Uh, I don’t know? I need a job?”

“For what? You have a trust fund from your mother and a massive amount of savings from all the money you made performing. You don’t hemorrhage money on a fancy penthouse or a collection of luxury cars.”

True. Rumi’s house was nice, but it was just a house. Three bedrooms, three bathrooms. Most upper middle class  families could afford a house like hers. When she and Jinu married, they got a kick out of living the “normal” life and after his death, Rumi realized it had become her preference.

“Plus, you’re a shareholder.” Celine continued. “You make money off of this company whether you’re an employee or not. You could never work another day in your life and still have enough money. Mi-Jin could never work a day in her life and still have enough money.”

Rumi was slack jawed, staring at Celine like she had grown a second head. She was waiting for Celine to laugh, saying everything she said was a joke, but she didn’t.

“Don’t you want me to work here? Isn’t that why you gave me this job?” Rumi asked, trying to rationalize any of this.

“I gave you this job to … help give you distractions.” Now Celine was looking a bit awkward, shifting in her seat. “Finding distractions helped me when we lost your mother.”

Oh.

The silence was no longer awkward. It was heavy.

“I realize it probably wasn’t the best coping mechanism. I didn’t exactly keep myself very available and before I knew it, work became training and raising you. I didn’t grieve – I compartmentalized. Somehow you ended up getting shoved in one of those boxes and I shouldn’t have done that.”

Holy shit. Rumi thought. Is she–?

“I’m sorry, Rumi.”

“Oh.” That was really all she could make herself say. She arranged this meeting ready to be faced with disappointment, not for Celine to crack her chest and open her heart out to her.

“I’m not your mother, but she had trusted me to be one for you and I failed. My apology is far too late and in no way makes up for my shortcomings.”

Rumi shot up from her seat. “Celine, no. I–”

“You don’t have to make excuses for me.” Celine interrupted, voice gentle in a way Rumi was unfamiliar with. “I think it’s a good idea, you not being stuck here. You can give Mi-Jin the childhood I should have given you. Don’t let losing a loved one make you stagnant.”

Celine stood up, rounding the desk to stand in front of Rumi. She set her hands on Rumi’s shoulders, looking at her with eyes that screamed regret, guilt, vulnerability, and love.

“Don’t become like me.”

Rumi’s breath hitched. She felt her eyes beginning to water and happiness blossoming in her chest. For the first time in … probably ever, she felt warm in Celine’s presence. 

Sure, it was only one conversation, but it was a step in the right direction after over thirty years of being lost and alone. Nobody knew Celine like Rumi did. This was a lot. This was practically the world turning on its axis and revolving around the moon instead of the sun.

The bottom line was Celine was trying.

“I have one other thing I want to talk to you about.” Rumi said, voice shaking. Celine made a curious noise, her loose grasp on Rumi not moving. “... Would you like to try babysitting Mi-Jin sometime?”

After a moment of stunned silence, Celine smiled wide enough to show the crows feet around her eyes. Looking like she was about to cry herself, she nodded and pulled Rumi into a hug that finally felt like it had something behind it.

***

There was a long, tearful conversation as Bobby drove Rumi home, talking about steps moving forward now that Rumi wasn’t going to be working for Sunlight anymore. Bobby really had no anchor in the company without Rumi there, nor did he want to start a career on his own this far into his life.

So, Rumi gave him an offer to become more of a personal assistant rather than an executive one. The only real difference from before was he’d be babysitting far more than he used to rather than sitting around in an office.

When he asked if something was still going on with Zoey, Rumi went totally red and did a very poor job of waving it off and assuring him it was fine. He didn’t look entirely convinced, but was happy for her nonetheless. With a hug and a reminder of how proud he was of her, Rumi was dropped off at her house.

She walked through the front door with far more pep in her step than she usually did, excited to see her daughter and her … other partner? Girlfriend? She needed to talk with Zoey to figure out what the hell she wanted to be called in their three-way relationship.

Mira’s corkboard popped up in her mind with “MILF SANDWICH” in big letters, dead center. They were absolutely not calling it that.

“Eomma!” The familiar voice and scurrying of small feet caught Rumi’s attention, Mi-Jin doing her usual football tackle straight into her kneecaps.

“Mimi!” Rumi set her purse down, crouching down to scoop her daughter up and pepper her face in kisses. “Were you well behaved for Auntie Zoey today?”

“Yep! And Big Mimi!”

Rumi blinked, a bit confused. “Big Mimi?”

“Welcome home!” Two very different voices greeted her, Rumi looking up to see both Zoey and Mira standing in front of her wearing aprons. Zoey’s predictably was teal and yellow with cartoon turtles while Mira’s was pink patterned with black cats.

Despite her knees protesting, Rumi hitched Mi-Jin up onto her hip as she stood. “What are you both doing here? I thought our second, uh,” she looked down at Mi-Jin, choosing her words carefully, “Our second outing wasn’t until next week?”

“We knew you were having that talk with Celine, so we both figured you would need a night of pampering to destress.” Mira said. She stepped up to Rumi, holding her arms out expectantly. “That pampering starts now, so hand over the child.”

Laughing awkwardly, Rumi adjusted her grip on Mi-Jin. “It ended up not being–”

“Hand over the little Mimi and nobody gets hurt.” Mira said, trying to sound as severe as possible. With a lighthearted eyeroll, Rumi deposited Mi-Jin into Mira’s grasp, immediately feeling the relief on her poor joints. Mi-Jin did not protest at all, looking content as she was whisked away into the living room.

Zoey was stepping up to Rumi next, grabbing her by the hand and pulling her close. “I’m not going to act like I know as much about Celine as Mira does, but I’ve been itching to pamper you since the day I met you.” she said, wrapping her arms around Rumi’s shoulders. With how warm and comforting Zoey’s entire presence was, it was easy for Rumi to lean into her, returning the hug.

“It wasn’t even bad.” Rumi mumbled into the soft fabric of Zoey’s sweatshirt.

One of the (many) things she was worried about in entering a romantic relationship with Zoey was if she would ever be able to relax enough to show or reciprocate any affection. Mira soldiered through the difficulty like a professional, but Rumi worried Zoey would feel iced out because of her anxious habits.

But just like she did with Mi-Jin, Zoey apparently had a hidden key to Rumi’s heart. She made affection feel so easy that Rumi was beyond shocked at how comfortable she was in so little time.

Pulling back from the hug, Zoey was giving Rumi that bright smile that made her and Mira fall in love so hard. “Mi-Jin is now out of line of vision. Can I?”

“Please.”

Without hesitation, Zoey pulled Rumi in for a sweet kiss, one Rumi swore tasted like sugar. She had a sneaking suspicion that all of Zoey’s lip balms and glosses were all flavored because every time they kissed felt like a new treat she’d never tried before.

They parted all too soon for Rumi’s liking, but she knew it would probably be best to avoid getting walked in on by Mi-Jin. Mi-Jin herself confirmed that she knew something was going on between Mira and her, having watched them kiss a handful of times. The thing was that Mi-Jin didn’t exactly have the most concrete real-world knowledge of what adults in a romantic relationship were supposed to be like, only the mom and dad characters she’d seen in cartoons.

Knowing Mi-Jin, she probably wouldn’t bat an eyelash if Rumi told her about her and Mira’s relationship.

Their relationship with Zoey, however?

Yeah, they don’t really make kids’ books for explaining that shit.

“So,” Zoey began leading Rumi further into the house, straight past the living room and up the stairs, “We’re going to wash that makeup off, let your hair down, and put you in some comfy clothes.”

“I imagine there’s a lot more after that?’” Rumi drawled as she was herded into her own bedroom. Zoey’s only answer was her wide grin, pulling her towards the bed. It looked like her choices for lounge clothes were all laid out on the bed for her – a short-sleeved band tee that she “borrowed” from Mira, a sweater, pajama shorts, and sweatpants.

Options for if she wanted to cover her scars and other options if she didn’t.

Taking a deep, grounding breath, Rumi picked up the t-shirt and the shorts. She had promised to Mira before that if she was invested, it was all in. She wouldn’t give Zoey less than that.

Zoey definitely noted the choice, her smile widening just a fraction and her eyes softening. “I’ll be downstairs making sure Mira hasn’t set your kitchen on fire.” she said. “Take all the time you need.”

With that, Zoey left and closed the door behind her, leaving Rumi to mentally prepare herself.

“Take all the time you need.”

Zoey knew so little of what happened to make her like this. Just whisperings of an “accident” and the logical conclusion that fire was involved. Yet she didn’t pry. Not once did she try to weasel out a morsel of detailed information that the tabloids would salivate over. Rumi still couldn’t believe that Zoey checked all of her smoke detectors without a lick of judgement or hesitation.

Even with the singing thing! Most people would lose their minds if they found out THE Rumi Ryu could never do another song again. The world was under the impression that shame made her not release anymore music, not the lifelong complications of the fire.

She knew Rumi still suffered from the pain of the past and had made it clear that she would never make Rumi try to justify it.

Stripping off her work clothes, Rumi tossed them in the hamper. She ditched her bra as well, leaving herself in just her underwear. Bringing her hands up to her necklace, she carefully lifted it over her head and held the attached ring.

Thank you for taking care of me, Jinu. She said in a silent prayer, squeezing it in her palm. She gently set it down on the nightstand. I’ll let them take care of me now, okay?

Rumi couldn’t say for sure if the goosebumps that popped up along her arms were from an actual chill or from her anxiety from showing so much skin to people other than her daughter, but she powered through it. She kept her steps steady down the stairs, fighting the urge to curl in on herself.

When she got to the livingroom, she found Mira squatting on the ground to be eye-level with a standing Mi-Jin, apparently having a serious conversation. A glance towards the kitchen revealed Zoey, darting back and forth between grocery bags that they must have brought specifically for dinner.

“The Mimi’s are scheming.” Rumi called out, startling both Mira and Mi-Jin from their intense conversation. 

Mira turned back to Mi-Jin. “You know the plan, right?” Mi-Jin nodded. “And you’re prepared to take on this burden?”

Mi-Jin went to nod again, but stopped herself. “What is ‘burden’?”

“I’ll tell you later. Just say yes.”

“Yes!”

“Perfect.” Mira straightened up, eyes locking onto Rumi. “You. On the couch. Now.” she commanded, pointing. Feeling distinctly outnumbered, Rumi held her hands up in surrender and shuffled over. She sat on the couch, eying Mira wearily the entire time.

As soon as she was sitting, Mi-Jin held her arms up, already prepared for Mira to bend down and lift her up. She remained entirely calm as Mira plopped her into Rumi’s lap, having expected this. Mira gave the two a single nod before turning on one foot and walking wordlessly back to the kitchen.

“...And what’s this all about?” Rumi asked, wrapping her arms around Mi-Jin and pulling her closer.

“I am supposed to give you cuddles until dinner time.”

A burst of love and affection bloomed in Rumi’s chest, immediately melting at the promise of uninterrupted, peaceful cuddling with her daughter. She flopped back onto the cushions, hauling Mi-Jin with her. While Mi-Jin squirmed a bit and scrunched her face up at the manhandling, she made no move to wiggle out of Rumi’s arms. Once they settled, Mi-Jin went limp, fulfilling her promise of being a good cuddler.

After a few moments of enjoying the weight of her daughter laying on top of her, Rumi heard Mi-Jin speak. “Am I doing a good job?”

“Yes, honey. You’re doing an amazing job.” Rumi murmured, tucking her face into Mi-Jin’s soft black hair.

True to her promise, Mi-Jin was an excellent cuddler for the entire hour it took Mira and Zoey to finish cooking dinner. Rumi could tell Mi-Jin was reaching the limit of how long a five year old could stay still on command when the clattering of plates being set on the table started, squirming a bit in Rumi’s arms.

“Mission successful, little Mimi!” Mira called out, causing Mi-Jin to sit up suddenly and only knee Rumi in the stomach just a little bit. It was a familiar pain to Rumi, barely flinching at this point. As the years went by and Mi-Jin’s knees and elbows got sharper, Rumi’s pain tolerance went up.

Rumi was led by the hand to the dinner table by her daughter, practically shoved into her seat. The dinner laid out had clearly been catered to Rumi’s favorites. In contrast to Mi-Jin’s love for all kinds of foods from tons of cultures, a traditional Korean spread was Rumi’s favorite. When she took a bite of the most delicious kimchi she’d ever tasted and then found out Zoey made it herself, Rumi nearly proposed on the spot.

The dinner was good, long, and loud in only the best of ways. Rumi couldn’t remember if she’d ever had a family meal quite like this and she found herself hoping they could be like this for the rest of her life. Conversations bounced between ones about work and adult life with Zoey and Mira and ones about cartoons and daydreams with Mi-Jin.

Rumi was happy.

Happy in a way she hadn’t been since she’d married Jinu.

Dinner had been so energetic that Mi-Jin’s energy started to wane at the tail end of it. In her defense, it had been a long dinner and by the time everyone’s stomachs were full, they were nearing her bedtime. Zoey took on the job of taking Mi-Jin upstairs for her bath while Mira cleaned up the table and kitchen. When Rumi tried to get up and help, she was told sternly that her job was to sit on the couch and look pretty.

Mira finished cleaning before Zoey finished getting Mi-Jin bathed and dressed in her pajamas, taking off her apron as she joined Rumi on the couch.

“Since when did you get that?” Rumi asked, pointing to said apron. Mira looked down at it, seemingly scrutinizing the cats patterning it.

“Zoey bought it for me. She said I had ‘black cat girlfriend’ energy.”

“You do remind me of a cat sometimes.”

“Good. Cats are elegant. Majestic. Superior lifeforms.”

“Zoey’s cat drinks out of the toilet.”

“... Fuck.”

“IT’S TIME FOR GOODNIGHT KISSES!” Zoey’s voice shouted from upstairs, followed by an excited squealing noise from Mi-Jin. Mira and Rumi shared a fond look, getting up and heading up the stairs.

Mi-Jin was already tucked nice and cozy in her purple bed, waiting eagerly.

“Eomma, check for monsters, please?” she asked, voice small and cute in that way that made Rumi fold like an accordion. Rumi lowered herself to the ground, lifting up the bedskirt to check underneath. She let it fall back down, straightening up and shaking her head.

“No monsters under the bed.” she told Mi-Jin, voice grim. Mi-Jin gave a disappointed pout, muttering something akin to “maybe next time”. Her pouting was quickly chased away with a conveyor belt of good night kisses, Zoey going first, Mira second, and Rumi last. They all filed out of Mi-Jin’s room, shutting the door gently behind them.

“Now it’s time to get you in bed.” Mira said, grabbing Rumi’s hand and leading her down the hall. Rumi rolled her eyes and followed, confusion quickly overtaking her as they walked past her bedroom.

“Where are we going? I thought I was going to be put in bed.” Rumi asked, getting even more confused as she was led downstairs.

“Y’know, we did a little experiment before you came home.” Zoey said, purposefully cryptic. “The soundproofing in your room is okay at best, but your downstairs guest room?”

Mira looked back at Rumi, her grin razor sharp. “You can’t hear a damn thing from that room in Mi-Jin’s room.”

Oh.

Oh no.

(Oh yes?)

I’m in danger. Rumi thought, mind blue-screening for a solid five seconds. Long enough for them to reach that seldom used guest room, Mira pulling Rumi inside while Zoey closed the door. Rumi watched as Mira pulled a familiar blue bottle of lotion from a nightstand, likely put there ahead of time, while Zoey set up the baby monitor on the other nightstand.

“I was thinking we’d start with taking care of your patterns,” Zoey said, a bit of nerves showing through. “But I also understand if that’s a little much for you to do with me yet, so I can either step out while Mira does it or close my eyes and stay.”

Rumi felt her heart flutter. She took a deep breath. “You can stay. And help, if you want.”

Zoey let out an excited little giggle, clapping her hands together. Mira’s hands dropped to the hem of Rumi’s shirt, waiting for Rumi’s nod to lift it up and off. When it was off, Rumi’s arms immediately came to wrap around her chest, unused to having two times the amount of attention focused on her. Keeping her head ducked down, she crawled onto the bed, settling onto her stomach.

“Are you okay?” Zoey asked, coming from one side. Rumi could see Mira settle on the other, her head turned to one side to avoid faceplanting into the bedding.

“I’m fine. Just feels weird being mostly naked while you two are fully dressed.” Rumi mumbled, half of her face smushed into the pillows.

“Oh, I can fix that!” Zoey said. There was a rustle of fabric and the sound of it hitting the floor, Mira letting out a low whistle. Rumi tried to move and turn her head to the other side to get a look for herself, but Mira’s hand wound through her hair to keep her in place.

“Hey now, you’ve seen her tits plenty. It’s my turn to ogle, so you just lay there and relax.”

Rumi’s only reply was a grumble, clearly not pleased but not arguing. She had seen Zoey’s tits plenty of times, but it had been awhile. She heard the cap of the bottle of lotion pop open, shutting her eyes and trying to focus on the pampering and not the thought of a topless Zoey within arms reach.

A single set of hands began rubbing the lotion into the worst of the scars on her back, Mira’s voice becoming a dull murmur to Rumi’s ears as she talked Zoey through whatever the hell kind of technique she used. Soon another set of hands joined, helping Mira really work the lotion into the thicker, more rough scar tissue where the flames had bit Rumi’s skin the hardest. Eventually they both branched out, taking care of her arms and massaging her ribs and shoulders – spots she always handled herself.

“She has them on her front, too, right?” Zoey’s voice sounded far away, almost like Rumi was underwater.

“Her back is the most ‘patterned’, but she has them pretty much everywhere. Barely any below the knees, though.” Suddenly, Mira’s voice was closer, addressing Rumi directly. “Babe, can we turn you over? We want to do your front, too.”

A tiny needle of anxiety lodged itself in Rumi’s chest. She hesitated, fists clenching in the bedding as she breathed through it. Painfully slow and shy, Rumi rolled onto her back, facing the ceiling. She almost brought her arms up to cover her chest again but was stunned by the sight of not only Zoey topless, but Mira as well.

“No need to act so shocked, babe.” Mira said with a laugh. Zoey was trying and failing to be subtle as she gawked at Rumi’s naked upper half. “You’ve seen my tits plenty as well. Though I don’t know if you’ve seen them as much as Zoey’s, to be honest.”

“Rumi was a very consistent longtime viewer.” Zoey said sagely, finally drawing her eyes back up to Rumi’s flushed face. Rumi wanted to curl in on herself, feeling extremely vulnerable with her scars, stretch marks, and soft stomach plainly displayed in the fully lit room. She fought the urge, much to her partners’ pleasure.

“We did a lot of talking when we planned this, you know?” Mira said, squeezing some lotion out onto Zoey’s outstretched hand before doing the same with her own.

“Comparing notes, if you will.” Zoey added. Both their hands were on Rumi now, working the lotion in with no less diligence than they did on her back. Firm touches danced across her hips where her shorts were slung low and around her ribcage, every hitched breath of hers pressing up into their palms.

“Zoey told me all about the things she did on her streams and what always made you donate the most.” Mira’s voice turned low and dangerous, the exact tone that Rumi knew meant trouble for her.

“And Mira told me about the hands-on knowledge she had. She told me that you’re actually pretty feisty sometimes. Do you want to know what I told her?”

Rumi’s only answer was a whimper. Zoey leaned down, Rumi able to feel the warmth radiating off of her skin.

“I told her how you like to be told how good and pretty you are. Isn’t that right, unnie?” she purred in Rumi’s ear, using the tone of voice Rumi had only ever heard through her computer. Hearing it in person and feeling the hot breath behind it hit her ear had a tiny, pathetic moan bubbling up from Rumi’s throat.

“Damn, you weren’t kidding.” Mira said with a single laugh. “I don’t think I’ve ever called you unnie before. It’d probably not be nearly as cute when Zoey does it.”

“Using honorifics was never your strong suit.” Rumi managed, trying not to squirm. Their hands were wandering for the sake of it now, no longer using the guise of massaging in lotion as an excuse to touch her.

“I’ll happily call you a pretty girl, though.” Mira’s hand went low, sliding across Rumi’s soft stomach towards the low slung waistband of her pajama shorts. “So can I take all of this off, pretty girl?”

Rumi barely finished the nod when Zoey and Mira began pulling them down. Her damp underwear went with, leaving Rumi bare underneath them. Mira’s gaze was hungry, but Zoey’s was starving.

“This is the hottest thing I’ve ever seen in my life.” Zoey said absently, openly gawking at Rumi’s naked body. It felt objectively incorrect to Rumi’s ears. She was fully about to interject and rebuke that, but a stern look from Mira cut that short.

I guess I’m predictable.

“Can you be a good girl and let us see you?” Mira said, her touch skirting across Rumi’s thighs now, inching closer to where the warmth was beginning to feel unbearable. “Can we take care of you?”

Rumi felt like her face was on fire, totally overwhelmed. She scrunched her eyes closed, her breath shaky. “God, please. Before I explode.”

Mira coaxed Rumi’s thighs apart, the cool air hitting her flushed center causing her to shiver. She bit at her bottom lip, trying to stave her pathetic little noises and spare herself at least some embarrassment.

“Hey, hey. None of that.” Zoey cooed, thumb brushing against Rumi’s lip and freeing it. Rumi’s eyes fluttered open, seeing Zoey’s face inches from hers, flushed, beautiful, and real. “There we go. Good girl.” she praised, whisper soft against Rumi’s lips before pressing hers against them.

Every time Zoey kissed her, Rumi was always taken aback at how soft she was. It was like her brain couldn’t properly remember until it was happening. To Rumi, Zoey was an enigma of sweetness, energy, and sunshine. You had to see her, be around her, to understand. Rumi was appalled at how much she was missing when she only saw Zoey on a screen.

Their lips dragged together, slow and warm with the faintest touch of tongues brushing against each other. Zoey had Rumi so thoroughly distracted that she didn’t notice her thighs being pushed further apart and the weight settling between them. Not until Mira’s deft fingers were trailing through the thatch of curly hair atop her aching cunt. Her breath hitched in a halted yelp of surprise, Zoey eagerly swallowing the noise down.

“Relax, pretty girl.” Mira cooed, fingers dipping further down to gather the slick coating Rumi’s folds. Rumi whined indignantly into Zoey’s mouth, blindly kicking at Mira.

Zoey sat up with a giggle, her smile shiny with a mix of her and Rumi’s saliva. “Wow, she does get feisty. Looks pretty wet, too.”

“Soaking.” Mira lifted her hand to show Zoey the faint sheen coating the tips of her fingers.

“I hate you both so much right now.” Rumi whined, turning her head to hide her face in the pillows.

“Awh, we’re sorry!” Zoey did not sound sorry at all. She bent down, pressing her lips against the skin of Rumi’s neck, bared from how she was turned. “You said she liked two fingers from the start, Mir? You should give her two. She’s been so good.” Zoey punctuated the last work with a nip, right under the hinge of Rumi’s jaw.

Before Rumi could continue complaining, those promised two fingers sunk in, giving that delicious stretch she craved. Rumi swore, her hips rolling towards Mira’s hand. Zoey planted a hand on Rumi’s chest, keeping her from moving too much so she could trail teeth and tongue across Rumi’s throat.

“It feels nice, doesn’t it?” Zoey cooed. Mira’s fingers were pumping in and out, deep and steady. Rumi felt overwhelmed in the best way. “You’re doing so well. Our pretty girl, right?”

Yes. Yours.

It was like Zoey had become SuneeZee again, saying all the right things to make Rumi melt.

“Mira’s fingers look so long. Do they feel good?”

Yes, they do.

Rumi could only give a wrecked moan, especially when Zoey’s hand went from pinning her chest to groping at it, fingers skirting the edges of her nipples.

“Just relax, pretty girl. We’ve got you.”

And so Rumi did just that.

She let herself sink into Mira and Zoey’s words and touch, quieting her mind to everything but them.

***

“Holy shit, you weren’t kidding.” Mira said, fingers still pumping. Her eyes were fixed on Rumi’s face where her cheeks had flushed and eyes gone glassy. Zoey felt something close to pride blossom in her chest.

“Told you.” Zoey had a smug smile on her face, still pawing at Rumi’s chest and occasionally rolling a nipple between her fingers. Poor Rumi was a whimpering puddle under them, all flushed and soft as she squirmed against the bedding. “She’s taking you so easily, too. Just like you said.”

“Here.” Mira pulled her fingers out, causing Rumi to whine. She held them out to Zoey. “Taste.”

A shiver of excitement raced up Zoey’s spine and she leaned over Rumi’s body, taking Mira’s fingers in her mouth. She sucked at them eagerly, savoring the heady taste of Rumi’s slick. When she pulled back, a string of saliva connected her lips to Mira’s fingers for just a second before it dripped downward.

“I bet she can take three now. Let me be the one to put them in her. I wanna taste her while I try.” Zoey said, borderline pleading. Her and Mira shuffled around, Zoey settling on her stomach between Rumi’s thighs. She could see them trembling slightly in anticipation.

And god, she looked even better up close in Zoey’s opinion. Perfectly pink and flushed with purple curls glistening in the light. Apparently Rumi wasn’t one for a close trim – that or she had put off her downstairs grooming for a while. Either way, Zoey was not complaining. She was a lover of all bushes, especially if they belonged to the sweetest, most beautiful MILF she had ever met.

Not wanting to keep her precious MILF waiting and cold, Zoey sunk two fingers into that wet heat, testing the give for a single thrust before pulling out and pressing in three instead. The moan Rumi let out was beautiful, better than any song she had ever sang. Wanting to see how much more she could get Rumi to sing, Zoey pressed her mouth to Rumi’s cunt, tongue sliding through the folds to press against Rumi’s swollen clit. She could feel it twitch at the pressure, Rumi letting out a keen in tandem.

“You sound so pretty, baby.” Zoey could hear Mira talking, feeling herself shudder at that low, husky tone that wasn’t even directed at her. How is it possible that she was in bed with two of the sexiest, most beautiful women on the planet?

She couldn’t comprehend it, but she could at the very least be grateful. Zoey put 110% into fucking her fingers into Rumi, listening carefully to her cries and moans to figure out what depth, angle, and speed Rumi loved the most. Her mouth didn’t stay idle either. She massaged her tongue against Rumi’s clit, sucked it between her lips, and even lapped around where her fingers disappeared in and out of Rumi.

“Fuck, Zoey!” Rumi cried out, her hips rolling up into Zoey’s mouth. Her breathing was getting shallower, a moan lacing each exhale. Zoey could hear the sound of suckling over Rumi’s moans, glancing up to see Mira with her head ducked down, mouth latched over one of Rumi’s tits. Her hand was on the other one, the nipple looking pink and puffy from how much it had been teased and pinched.

When Rumi’s hips buckled hard enough to nearly knock Zoey off of her, Zoey took it upon herself to use her free hand to pin Rumi’s hips down. She pressed down hair, fingers pressing easily into the cushioning on Rumi’s stomach and abdomen.

“Mira, Zoey, please,” Rumi whined, voice positively wrecked. “Nhn, please! I can’t, I can’t–”

“It’s okay, pretty girl. You can let go. Let Zoey know what a good job she’s doing.” Mira purred, unlatching from Rumi’s nipple.

 And oh, how a pulse of heat went down Zoey’s spine when the praise was directed at her.

Yeah, she was filing that away for later.

Rumi’s hips stopped jerking, her thighs shaking as her moans got higher and thinner. Zoey could hear Mira whispering in Rumi’s ear, coaxing her towards her finish. She didn’t know exactly what Mira was saying, but she was willing to bet every penny of her camming money that it was absolutely filthy.

Whether it be from the twist of Zoey’s fingers, the curl of Zoey’s tongue, or whatever filthy promise Mira had just breathed into her ear, it shoved Rumi over the edge. She came with a garbled mantra of Mira and Zoey’s names, Zoey patting her past self on the back for double checking the soundproofing of this room.

Rumi was loud.

“There we go. Breathe, baby. You did so good.” Zoey could hear Mira talking Rumi through the aftershocks, keeping her tongue against Rumi’s clit and her fingers buried inside as Rumi rode through the waves. When Rumi caught her breath and slumped against the bed, Zoey carefully drew her fingers out and sat up, wiping the slick off of her mouth and chin with the back of her hand.

Zoey met Rumi’s gaze, smiling at how flushed and downright lovedrunk Rumi looked. “Was it good, pretty girl?”

Rumi’s lip curled in a pathetic little snarl, though the flush on her face deepened.

“Feisty, feisty.” Mira said, probably like she had said to Rumi countless times before. Rumi ignored her, sitting up enough to grab at Zoey – specifically Zoey’s pants.

Laughing, Zoey hopped off of the bed long enough to shove her jeans and underwear off, climbing back on. Before she could decide on where to settle, Rumi was grabbing at her hips again, clumsy and insistent.

“What is it, pretty girl?” Zoey asked, blindly following wherever Rumi pulled her. She was manhandled to straddle Rumi’s waist, about to settle before Rumi continued pulling.

“Oh, dear.” Mira said, exasperated. “Buckle up, Zo. She wants you to sit on her face.”

“Oh?” Zoey moved further up now that she understood, Rumi laying flat and getting comfortable.

“Yeah. She’s really good at this.”

Zoey managed to get in position and lower herself down and holy fucking shit Mira spoke no lies.

Rumi ate like she was starving and when Zoey worried that she was too heavy, Rumi was sinking her hands into Zoey’s plush thighs and yanking her down against her mouth. She had to have been doing witchcraft with her tongue or something because Zoey, honest to god, squealed at the sensation.

“Oh my fucking god,” Zoey could barely get the words out, one hand scrambling to grab the headboard and the other catching Mira’s shoulder for support. Rumi continued her relentless feasting, uncaring of the religious experience she was putting Zoey through. “Holy shit. Mira, what the fuck?” she whined.

“I warned you!”

“Fucking barely – ohhh my god.”

Rumi wasn’t even using her fingers, her lips and tongue alone enough to rob Zoey of all higher thought. The slick sounds coming from between Zoey’s thighs were obscene, somehow audible even over Zoey’s helpless moan and squeals and Rumi’s eager grunts and whines.

The passage of time was a lie. So was having legs because honestly, Zoey couldn’t feel hers anymore. Her vision was getting hazy and no amount of oxygen felt like enough. As if Rumi alone wasn’t skyrocketing her brain to the clouds, Mira just had to lean in and start biting, marking Zoey’s skin across her neck and shoulders.

Her orgasm was less like a wave or a fall or whatever sort of romantic term.

That shit hit like a punch.

Zoey doubled over, throat aching from how loud her cries got. She once again thanked her past self for testing the soundproofing of this room.

She had to practically fling herself to the side because if she hadn’t, Rumi apparently was not going to stop. Zoey didn’t think her poor vagina could handle two orgasms like that in a row, her legs shaking like a leaf even after the aftershocks passed.

“What the fuck, Rumi.” she panted, half curled into the fetal position and clenching her thighs together. Rumi just looked back at her with a wide grin and hazy eyes, the entire lower half of her face glistening with Zoey’s slick.

“That was somehow just as hot to watch as it was to experience.” Mira commented, having a floaty look of her own. Glancing down, Zoey saw Rumi’s hand pull away from the apex of Mira’s thighs, covered in shining wetness. She hadn’t even noticed Rumi let go of one of her legs, much less that Mira was getting finger-fucked right next to her.

If Zoey ever made a scrapbook for their relationship, there would definitely be a section dedicated to a stellar review of Rumi’s head game. Probably in the section where she’d keep snippets from Mira’s weird relationship planning/murder mystery corkboard scheme.

“I can’t feel my legs.” Zoey said with a groan, wiggling her body to be pressed right up to Rumi’s. “You’ve ruined me, unnie.”

“Keep calling me unnie and I will dive right back in.” Rumi shot back. Mira let out a fond laugh,

“See what I’m talking about, Zo? Fucking feisty, I tell you.”

***

They eventually did get their legs to work, Mira being the sturdiest on her feet out of all of them. Rumi was a little shaky while Zoey was downright wrecked. Mira easily sympathized with her, having fared no better after the first time she gave in to Rumi’s invitation to ride.

“Where did you even learn to do that?” Zoey whispered, struggling to hobble up the stairs without making too much noise. She managed to get her shirt and underwear back on but was carrying her jeans slung over her shoulder, legs too unsteady to get them back on.

“Award show after parties are wonderful for blowing off steam.” Rumi answered, elaborating no further. Mira got the same answer when she asked the same exact question.

They managed to hobble into Rumi’s bedroom, dumping the clothes they couldn’t bother putting back on onto the floor and kicking them into a pile in the corner. Zoey was the first to collapse onto Rumi’s king-sized bed, laying on her side with her thighs pushed tight together.

“My poor pussy,” she whined, eliciting a snort from Mira. “You broke it, Rumi. You broke my vagina. I’ll be feeling this for days.”

“Want me to kiss it better?” Rumi drawled. Zoey’s eyes went wide and she shook her head wildly.

“Mercy. Please. I beg. He needs to recover.”

Mira crawled onto the bed, quirking one eyebrow at Zoey. “Did you just refer to your vagina as a ‘he’?”

Zoey elected not to answer, merely pouting until Rumi joined the two of them, finally pulling up the covers so they could lay under them properly. Zoey was between Rumi and Mira, her smaller frame completely surrounded.

“Do you want me to be out of here before Mi-Jin wakes up tomorrow?” Zoey asked quietly, a distinct feeling of rest settling in the air now.

It was a reasonable question and not necessarily one of shame. None of them wanted to confuse Mi-Jin or get her invested in something so new that could impact her so heavily. All three of them were cautious of this. Rumi had said before that she’d openly tell anyone that she was with both of them, but involving Mi-Jin required time.

“Not gone, but awake. We can tell her you slept in the guest room.” Rumi said. Zoey nodded.

“That bed is fucked up enough to pass for being slept in.” Mira said, earning a swat from Rumi and an elbow from Zoey. “Oh my god, I’m being ambushed.”

“Go to sleep, you dork.” Rumi huffed, settling in. Just as Mira was about to do the same, Zoey gasped and sat up straight. “What’s wrong?”

“Hold on, we have to reposition.” Zoey said, shoving the blanket off of all of them. She crawled over Rumi’s body, shoving her towards Mira and then settled behind her.

“Why did we have to do this?” Rumi asked, now the one stuck in the middle.

“So we could fulfill the prophecy.” Zoey stated plainly. She wiggled closer to Rumi, squeezing her in tighter. “MILF Sandwich.”

“Zoey! Absolutely not!” Rumi started squirming, trying to free herself. Zoey merely held her tight, Mira joining to keep Rumi pinned down between them. “Mira!”

“Let it happen, babe.” Mira said. “Become the sandwich.”

“... You are so fucking corny.”