Archive of Our Own ^beta

The time Mira first spoke to Zoey is imprinted on her memory like an engraving on glass; finely cut and shining, details intricate and sharp.

It was during the third round of auditions for Huntrix, after a day that had been full of mistakes, stumbles and isolation.

She stayed behind while everyone else filed off in happily chatting groups for dinner, waiting until the last footsteps had faded. Once she was sure no-one was there to see, she sank to the floor exhausted, sweaty, and tearful; muscles that she didn’t even know she had ached and the low dull throb of a headache was beginning to form behind her right eye. She pressed her forehead against the coolness of the dance studio mirror and tried to swallow back the sobs threatening to spill out of her mouth.

“You alright there?”

She whipped around, embarrassed to be seen breaking apart, she hadn’t even heard the door open, let alone someone enter the room.

 Zoey had spent so much of her childhood feeling like the odd one out: too much, too loud, too different. Simultaneously wishing she could be seen, but also to disappear into the crowd and fit in. 

By the time she had reached high school she’d developed a brittle veneer around her heart. 

Every day was lonely. She felt like a puzzle piece that belonged to a different set. Every lunchtime was painful, even finding somewhere to sit and eat was a trial. She didn’t fit anywhere, no matter how hard she tried to mold herself into someone likeable, she always ended up on the side-lines looking in, trying to figure out where she went wrong until she gave up trying. She had buried her head in notebooks full of lyrics as if they were a shield from the whispers, the sneers, the cruel graffiti on her locker…

But in that moment, knees burning on the hard floor, eyes blurred with tears, she felt completely exposed. She was distinctly aware that the tolerance of her peers was starting to wane; a horribly familiar pattern starting to emerge. She would bounce up to various girls, trying to make small talk, make connections but they started to cut her off midway through a sentence, conversations suddenly going quiet when she walked by, eyes rolling whenever she raised her hand to ask Celine yet another question, backs turning whenever she entered a room...

She couldn’t let them know how easily she broke, couldn’t let them see how weak she actually was.

“I-I’m fine. Just tired.” She tried to force a smile but failed miserably, her bottom lip quivering. She could feel Mira look straight through her and see the scared little girl hiding inside.

Zoey had noticed Mira right from the beginning. How could she not? Mira was made to stand out too but for all the right reasons. The way she moved flawlessly, getting the choreo right the first time every time, her stamina twice that of everyone else. None of the other girls spoke to her, from an obvious mixture of intimidation and jealousy. But Mira didn’t seem to care; too busy devoting every spare second she had to improving, to learning, an insatiable hunger to prove herself clearly burning within her. A few times Zoey had sensed Mira’s eyes penetrating into the back of her head but every time she turned to look Mira was either stretching or going through another eight count.

A heavy silence hung between them, as Zoey counted the seconds, willing herself to meet Mira’s eyes before settling for the bridge of her nose; just one of the many techniques she’s acquired to try and blend in.

“I don’t think we’ve spoken yet–”

“–You asked me for a pen yesterday.” Zoey wanted to slap a hand over her own mouth.

 Why was she like this? 

Just. Be. Normal. 

There was another awkward silence. Zoey wished the ground would open up and swallow her whole.

“Your shoelace is untied.” And before Zoey could say anything Mira had stooped and tied it for her, her fingers as graceful as the rest of her body.

“My name is Mira.” She had said looking up at Zoe with a half smile and Zoey felt that tight feeling go out of her chest.

“I’m Zoey.”  

And that was that. They formed a bond in that moment that’s never been broken.

                                                                                                                                                ~

People who don’t know Mira think that she’s aloof, controlled, and unbothered. Zoe knows it’s all a façade, a carefully created exterior. A mask that Zoey is all too familiar with. The reality is that Mira shows she cares with the little things that seem insignificant, but actually matter the most.

Within two weeks of Huntrix being formed, she knew Zoey and Rumi’s coffee orders by heart (matcha latte with soy milk, two pumps of vanilla, and a decaf caramel mocha with oat milk). She never cuts Zoey off; she lets her ramble endlessly, often for hours.

Eventually Zoey stops believing she’s an annoyance to be tolerated.

On take out night, Mira always serves them first, Mira is always the first to offer to clean up, Mira  takes out the trash… and then there's the little notes Zoey finds tucked away in places she least expects. Mira’s neat handwriting on little pink scraps of paper reminding Zoey of her talent, of her kindness, of her strength, little cartoons of turtles prompting her to drink water and eat a snack. Zoey finally feels seen, feels like maybe she isn’t too much. That maybe she is enough, worth the time, worth the effort. So she lets the mask drop and she becomes Zoey; Just Zoey and it’s like an iron band around her heart has shattered.

Yes, Mira gives in every aspect of her life. Every aspect.

So many nights she’s left Zoey, boneless and aching; speechless at the height of the pleasure Mira has brought her to, as if Mira lives and breathes to do this, as if it's her purpose in life.

She never falters, never tires. She can drag orgasm after orgasm out of Zoey; long after she thinks she’s done, Mira will coax another one from her, “Just one more baby, do it for me-” Until she’s sobbing from the sensitivity.

And now Rumi gets to experience it, too.

Zoey cradles Rumi’s head on her lap watching as she breaks again, flushed, exhausted, lost in pleasure, one eye shining like liquid gold.

 “God, you look so fucking beautiful like this.” 

Mira’s voice is shaky, the words forced out through gritted teeth. Her skin shines with a fine sheen of sweat, strands of her hair clinging to her neck and forehead. The strap round her thighs fits her perfectly, the pink leather worn at the edges from frequent use. Zoey watches, mouth dry, as the slick length of the dildo presses back inside Rumi, languidly now, different from the brutal pace Mira had set mere moments ago.

 Rumi looks completely wrecked, her lips kiss-swollen, hair spilling across Zoey’s lap in soft lavender curls.

Zoey bends down to croon in Rumi's ear.

“You’re doing so well Unnie…can you keep taking her? You’re not tapping out yet, are you?”

Rumi moans brokenly when Mira’s fingers dig into her hips, almost hard enough to bruise, and her thrusts start to pick up pace. Zoey slides her fingers down Rumi’s clenching stomach, tracing faintly glowing patterns as she goes, eventually using two fingers to carefully spread her open before tugging back, exposing her completely, making Rumi hiss in sensitivity and press her cheek into Zoey’s thigh.

“Look how swollen she is baby, look at what you’re doing to her–”

“ Fuck!”

Zoey grins as Mira’s jaw drops open slightly, her eyes staring at where Zoey keeps Rumi spread, watching her bring her other hand down and deliberately flick the pads of her fingers over the exposed tip of Rumi’s clit making her keen and thrash, thighs trembling, hands curling into fists.

“God–Zoey, she’s so perfect, you’re both so -”

She knows by the way Mira is biting her lip she’s close, breathing harshly through her nose, the tension in her arms making the muscles clearly visible.

Zoey can feel Rumi’s clit start to twitch under fingers just as she tips over the edge, a raw cry escaping her lips. Fluid coats Zoey’s fingertips, adding to the mess Rumi’s already made of herself. Mira presses deep inside her and leans forward, to capture Zoey’s lips in a brutal kiss, teeth clashing as she comes, hips jerking, shuddering with pleasure.

She collapses against Zoey’s shoulder, exhausted, but Zoey can feel her smile against her skin. 

They stay like that for a while, all three of them panting almost in unison, a comfortable silence settling over them like a blanket.

Eventually Mira leans down and kisses Rumi softly and eases herself away, an obscenely wet noise as the dildo finally slides out of Rumi makes Zoey clench around nothing. Rumi’s patterns are still faintly glowing but exhaustion is claiming her rapidly, her eyes fluttering shut barely aware of Mira gently cleaning her up with the tissues they keep on the nightstand.

Zoey watches as Mira stretches her arms over her head languidly, still standing between Rumi's spread legs at the foot of the bed. Her fingers lazily undo the leather harness and rub at the red marks on her hips, a smug smile on her lips, clearly satisfied with her work.

Suddenly aching to be closer to her, Zoey eases herself from behind Rumi, laying her head gently on a pillow, and pressing a kiss to her forehead before crawling down the bed and slipping to the floor between Mira’s knees.

She grips Mira’s thigh and lifts her leg at the knee, guiding one of her feet to rest on the end of the bed, so she can lap the wetness off her inner thighs as Mira watches her, one hand resting on the top of her head, guiding her to where she needs Zoey most.

Yes, Mira knows how to give , but as Zoe’s tongue drags up the length of Mira’s cunt, she’s determined to remind her that she can take as well.