Chapter Text
Sunlight.
Blaring into her closed eyes.
That’s the first thing she can feel when she wakes up. Which is weird, because she loves waking up to sunlight. She can hear Zoey’s giggles and Mira’s murmuring to be quiet, Mira snuggling into Rumi from her front. Chin atop her head, arms and legs tangled.
A groan from Rumi. No one moves. A grumble. Mira cuddles closer.
Her eyebrows furrow. She loves being squished between them, truly. But it feels too hot. Not sweaty, just hot. Too close and too hyper-aware of their bodies pressing against hers. She turns to her side, and oh of course Zoey’s awake. Watching a documentary of turtles on her phone.
The sun is still blaring at her, as if mocking her for this weirdly horrible morning. So she slowly— very slowly untangles herself from their limbs and swings her feet to the floor, letting her fingers brush against Mira’s cheek when she grunts in annoyance. Giving Zoey a quiet “good morning” and a kiss to her forehead before padding her way to the bathroom. Groaning, as she runs her hands down her face.
It starts when she grabs her toothbrush. A pang in her lower belly. The kind that makes you flinch and wince, a small gasp slipping from her lips. Her nose scrunches as she waves it off.
But it’s there.
Insistent.
A light cramping in her lower belly. Even as she sits on the floor of the living room, back against the couch and between Zoey’s legs. Letting her re-do her braid, eyes fluttering shut at the feeling of the brush against her scalp. Even as Mira finally wakes up and decides to make breakfast.
They eat breakfast in bickers. Giggling at stupid things and debating over whether turtles or seals can survive longer. It’s the things they do for Zoey, honestly.
But it’s still there.
Cramping. Insistent, as Mira reminds them that she had a photoshoot today, asking if anyone else wanted to come. Zoey grins at the opportunity to see her girlfriend dressed up and model-ready, and Rumi declines. Saying she had things to do at home. She doesn’t. She just feels weird.
But oh.
Oh.
It hits her when they’re gone. The door closing and their scents aren’t filling up every corner and every goddamn crevice of the apartment. And it hits her hard. I mean, doubling over and hands bracing themselves against the kitchen island. A strung of curses leave her lips, patterns pulsing. She’s glad it didn’t ripple the honmoon, because then Zoey or Mira might get worried.
It happens again. Two hours later. When she’s fuming over a stupid k-drama and love triangles, she pads her way to her room. Grumbling as she slips into bed. Mira’s scent filled her nose first. And then Zoey’s.
It’s faint.
It’s so goddamn faint she scrambles to smush her nose into her pillows, not the least bit shameless.
Right, they all slept in Rumi’s bed last night, that’s why. But her lower belly pangs. And this time it does ripple the honmoon. Just barely. It ripples again when she tried to get up, arms too weak. Flopping onto her stomach before groaning and wincing. Her length squishing against the mattress before she quickly flopped to her back.
Ow.
She can hear her phone ringing, maybe Mira. Or Zoey, asking what’s wrong. But her phones in the living room, where she tossed it with a huff after that stupid movie. She should get up. Reassure them. Another pang and another ripple, and she’s curling in on herself.
———————————————
Zoey arrives alone to the apartment. Two hours earlier than when her and Mira were supposed to come back. Leaving Mira at the photoshoot to go check on the honmoon, or… more importantly. Rumi.
Her nose scrunches as the door opens, Rumi’s scent filling her lungs. Shit.
She drops her bag making her way to the scent.
“Rumi? Rumi, baby? Where are you, you okay? Ruuuuumi?”
The door to Rumi’s bedroom is closed. Which is weird, because they never close doors anymore, no need to. So she knocks.
“Rumi?”Once.
“Baby?” Twice.
“…Pookie?” Thrice. Not even a laugh at the usual nickname.
Okay. She opens it when she hears a whimper. Strained and pained and oh so Rumi.
“Coming in-!” She flings the door open. Ready to be concerned. To be worried. To reassure.
What she is not ready for in Rumi in nothing, humping one of Zoey’s pillows and smushing her nose into Mira’s sweater. Her patterns glowing and pulsing. Rumi’s hips still as their eyes connect, sitting up on her knees.
And oh she looks delicious like that. Panting and whiny, teary eyes on hers, cock upright and patterns pulsing. Rumi whines, and it’s like an angel singing. She lowers herself back against the bed, hiding away in what looked like a makeshift nest that she put together in a hurry.
“Oh… Rumi…”
It’s sympathetic. Whispered, and bordering on a coo. That’s what makes her break.
A hiccup.
Sniffle.
And then the tears.
Turning and nuzzling her face into one of Mira’s sweaters, back arching and hips grinding against Zoey’s pillow between her thighs. Her human hand fisting the sweater, and her demon one clawing down the sheets. She sobbed, her hand grabbing onto Zoey’s forearm, claws just barely digging into her skin.
Her alpha needed to fuck. Her demon needed to feed.
“Zo-ey… hurts-s s…so mu- uhff, much-ch-“ Muffled and breathless.
Zoey stilled infront of her bed. That didn’t sound like her. Not her Rumi. It was deep. Husky. Raw and so, so restrained. Rumi’s head turned, one glowing yellowed eye finding hers, her other covered by Mira’s sweater. Her patterns pulsed, hips bucking into Zoey’s pillow, spurting pre-cum against the satin with a keening whine.
Okay. This was her first rut after sealing the honmoon. Zoey could deal with it.
Cool. Cool cool cool cool…
She winced as Rumi’s nails dug into her skin, but didn’t flinch her hand back. Rumi did though. Whimpering like she’d done something wrong, and hiding in her nest.
“Out. Get— get o-out. Zoey leave. Before I can’t stop it.” It’s almost groaned out.
Like the mere thought of losing control was just out of reach.
“No Rumi, you’re… You’re hurting. You know I can’t do that.” Whispered.
Rumi groaned again, she could feel it scratching her throat. Eyes rolling back as Zoey only stepped closer, her scent filling her nostrils.
Her hips twitched. Rolled. Bucked.
Before her back arched. Cock twitching and cumming all over Zoey’s pillow and painting her own chest in white splashes. Her first orgasm during her rut. Her mind going blissfuly numb and melting.
Just at Zoey’s scent.
She heard a soft “oh” from Zoey, and the sound of her labored breaths. She sobbed as her length remained stubbornly hard and aching. All but growling. Yes, growling. Hiccing into the pillow. And then something touched her. Zoey. Fingers sliding from her neck before pausing between her shoulder blades. Rumi’s head lifted from her pillow, tear streaks and fangs poking her bottom lip.
Zoey touched her the same way she would when she wields her weapons. Soft and gentle yet sure. So sure she could handle them. But could she handle Rumi? She was about to find out, because Rumi was already up. Yanking her into her nest. Or, well, something that looked like one. It was sudden, Rumi didn’t have any time.
“Hmff— Zoey…” Muffled. As Rumi immediately went for her neck.
Nose smushing against her scent glands, groaning and eyes rolling back at how fucking sweet she smelled. Rumi’s hands gripping her sweater to ground herself as she straddled Zoey’s waist. Fangs grazing the skin at her neck, yet never piercing.
She didn’t need to. She’d long since marked them as hers. Her tongue frantically licking over the mark like she needed to remember that yes, she really did mark her.
Zoey was a freak. Through and through, yes. She could go for hours. But this? Rumi, whiny and sobbing? Her scent intoxicating the room and filling every corner of her lungs and leaving her lightheaded? She didn’t know if she could handle this.
“God, Rumi. You’re—“ Zoey tilted her head up, letting it fall back against the mattress in a shaky exhale.
Rumi keened at having more access. Zoey’s hands braced themselves at her shoulders, nails ever so slightly digging in. Back arching as Rumi leaned down, pressing their chests and torso’s together. Squishing her cock between their stomachs.
Another hicc, tears against Zoey’s neck and then a muffled groan.
“It hurts. It hurts, Zoey it h-“ She was shushed with a coo, and a tut.
“I-I know, I know… It’s okay baby, i’m here now. I’m— Rumi-?!?”
Rumi whined, shoving Zoey’s shirt up to her collarbone before deciding to just rip it open instead.
Demon claws ripping through her shirt, the sound of fabric ripping filling her room.
“Rumi-! That was my favorite shirt!”
She couldn’t deny that it was hot though. Rumi wanting her so badly, ripping through the layers between them. Rumi’s nails trailed to her bra before pausing. Mira had bought Zoey that bra. She decided to have some mercy on Zoey, keeping her bra intact. What pissed her off wasn’t Zoey, no, never.
It was the fact that she was giggling.
Like this was just normal horny need and not an I feel like i’m dying so you need to help me. And Rumi. Far, far away in a land of need, growled. I mean, growled. The honmoon rippled with it. Her patterns pulsed with it. Her cock twitched with it. She huffed, moving away from Zoey’s neck for a second to manhandle her onto her stomach instead.
“Rumi—“ Breathless, as a hand pressed against the back of her head. Pressing her face down into a pillow, cheek smushing against satin. Rumi’s other hand lifting her hips up. Ass up, face down.
Shoving her pants down and tossing the offending fabric away. She moaned at the lacy fabric of the thong Zoey decided to wear today. Always a goddamn thong.
“I need you.” Fiery. Whispered. Hot and heavy. Like she’d kill if she couldn’t have her.
“Please, I need you so bad. Zoey. Zoey, Zoey, Zo— Zoey…”
She leaned over her back, breasts pressing against her shoulder blades and cock pressing against Zoey’s ass as she nuzzled into her neck from behind. Licking over her neck and scent glands.
“You smell. So. Good. So good Zoey, so g… God, so good.”
And Zoey? She burned. Her face and the tips of her ears heating up. A muffled moan against the pillow, hips involuntarily pushing back against Rumi’s. Eyes fluttering shut. Was she… embarrassed…? Rumi wasn’t always this… dominant. This rough. It was usually Mira. But god, was she loving it.
Rumi’s tongue trailed down before returning to the sanctuary of her mouth. Pressing kisses to the freckles of Zoey’s back. Her constellation, she’d say.
“Zoey please.” Pleading. Like the word no would make her cry all over again.
“Please baby please I— hah, I can’t, I can’t, I— Zoey—“
Zoey could only answer with an approving moan as she felt Rumi’s cock twitch and slide between her thighs. Grinding into her folds and coating her cock in Zoey’s arousal. Rumi didn’t make any move towards her entrance, and Zoey almost melted at the gesture. She wanted a verbal agreement. Oh, she loved Rumi and her carefulness with her.
“Rumi— Rumi, yes baby, yes. It’s okay, let me help you baby.” She pressed back against Rumi.
“Take me Rumi, use me. I’m here to help.” She made a show of arching her back, toes curling in anticipation.
The honmoon rippled at her consent, the faint glow of Rumi’s patterns lighting up the dim room as she pressed against her entrance. Her head leaking precum against her hole.
“Zoey…” Rumi always had to make sure. Especially with what her demon wanted to do to her.
Zoey groaned in impatience, nodding again.
“Rumi… yes, fuck me. Let me help you Rumi, let me be of use.”
That seemed to be good enough for Rumi, because she was pushing in.
Whining, as she eased herself in.
Gasping like she’d found a holy sanctuary.
Stuttering, like the slow pace was taking everything in her not to say fuck all and pound her into the mattress.
A moan left Zoey’s lips, back arching. “Oh, you’re so hard baby…” Giggling.
Zoey lifted a hand, moving it behind her to press against Rumi’s thigh. And that’s when she realized that, no. No, she definitely could not take Rumi like this. Because Rumi grabbed her hand by the wrist, and pinned it against her back. Pulling out to the head, before thrusting her cock back into Zoey’s tight hole.
“Ah-huh! Rumi-i!” Gasping, her free hand gripping the pillow she was burying her face into.
“Zo-ey. Zoey you’re— so— tight.” Rumi’s tone wasn’t dominant. Not at all.
Whiny. Her eyes rolling back as she let go. Let her demon take over. Letting it feed, as she recklessly thrusted. The slap-slap-slap of her hips against Zoey’s filling the room. Pinning her wrist behind her back, forehead dropping between her shoulder blades and jaw dropping. The force of Rumi’s thrusts pushing Zoey forward. Her teeth clamped against the pillow, all but wailing into the fabric.
“No— no let me hear you. Zoey—“ Rumi’s free hand snaked it’s way up, demon hand wrapping around her neck and tilting her head up.
Zoey’s moans and whines filling the room more clearly now. Her lips parted and drooling as her free hand left the pillow in favor of pressing against the headboard. Bracing herself with the force of Rumi’s thrusts. Her thighs tensed. Trembling, as they clenched shut.
A telltale sign that she was close.
Rumi’s hand on her neck slid down to her thighs, shoving them open before sliding over her clit. Middle and ring finger rubbing tight circles against her bundle of nerves. She gasped, hips jerking violently before another slam of Rumi’s hips stopped them.
“Rumi i’m— baby i’m gonna—“ A gasp. And then a sob.
“Fuck Rumi, i’m gonna cu-ummmm-mmghhh!”
She came when Rumi’s mouth clamped down against her shoulder. Fangs just barely digging into her skin. Her mouth opened in a cry of Rumi’s name, thighs clamping shut and back arching.
She had expected Rumi to be done. To slow atleast, but no. She didn’t even stutter. Whining and whimpering into her shoulder as her hips never stopped.
“Rumi! Rumi, I— baby i’m—“ Blabbers.
That was all she could get out. Her eyes filling with tears as her sobs and moans filled the room. Her hips twitching and bucking uncontrollably. Rumi growled, her hands leaving their places in favor of grabbing Zoeys hips. Forcing them down against the bed, nails digging in as she forced her hips in place and resumed thrusting.
She came for a second time, her toes curling and eyes rolling back so hard she swears she saw god. Her whole body going tense, hands fisting the pillow she was biting into again.
Rumi sobbed. Like watching Zoey cum while she tried to find her own relief was a mockery. Her thrusts turning punishing as her frustration bubbled up. The edge so close yet so, so fucking far.
“Z- ugh-hnmmm! Zoey! Stop— clenching you’re s-so tight—“
Zoey’s mouth dropped open in a silent scream, hands scrabbling back to swat at Rumi. Rumi grabbed her hands, pressing them against the small of her back and forcing her into a deeper arch. Her eyebrows furrowing and forehead dropping between Zoey’s shoulder blades.
“How are you s-so tight huh-? When we both know what a whore you are?” It’s not degrading.
It can’t be, because Rumi sounds genuinely confused and on the verge of tears as she thrusts harder. But oh. Oh does Zoey revel in it. Rumi doesn’t talk like that, Mira usually does. But it’s Rumi. Growling and pounding her into a mattress. Zoey loves it, and she loves it so much that it makes her cum again. A breathless and sharp scream leaving her lips. Clenching down against Rumi’s cock over and over again.
“Please. Please, I- I wanna cum too. Let me cum too, I— Zoey please—” Another sob.
And the crybaby tears were back. Whining and sobbing against Zoey’s shoulder as her hips never stopped. Too close yet too far for relief.
She didn’t stop at Zoey’s third orgasm. Not her fourth. Not even her fifth, where tears rolled down Zoey’s cheeks and the headboard banged into the wall. But her sixth, she slowed. For a second.
The heels of Zoey’s feet pressed against Rumi’s ass as she mewled, hands scrabbling and clawing at the mattress. She was close. Again. The overstimulation leaving tears running down her cheeks. Her feet kicking against the bed like a child with a tantrum as her eyes rolled back with another cry.
“Rum-i, fuuuhhck! S— oh!” Her eyes opened, widening when Rumi slammed herself all the way in, sobbing as she finally came.
The feeling of her cock oozing cum into her— god that’s what tipped Zoey over the edge for what felt like the hundredth time today. Cumming with a mewl and the smallest whimper of Rumi’s name for the sixth goddamn time. Panting and heaving, as Zoey drooled against the pillow.
A frustrated sob filled her ears. Rumi, still hard and frustrated, gave a weak thrust. Zoey gasped, already shaking her head and flopping forward until Rumi slipped out of her.
“God— Rumi! Ah-! I can’t— I really can’t—“ Panting and heaving, as she turned and flopped onto her back.
Hands flopping beside her head. Rumi was already pushing in again, gasping. Like this was heaven and it was outrageous that she’d even think about leaving.
“Rumi!” It bordered on a squeal, toes curling. Rumi propping her legs over her shoulders.
“You can. Yes you can, you know you can.” Rumi’s hand slipped into hers. Interlocking their fingers and pressing them down beside her head. “You’ve taken worse.”
A sob slipped through Zoey’s lips, head thrashing and thighs trembling violently over Rumi’s shoulders. Rumi leaned down, Zoey’s knees pressing against her chest.
“N-no, nonono s— guhhhh! Stop! Stop-! Rumi s— nnnghhh!”
Liar.
She didn’t want it to stop. She could say red— her safeword, and it would all stop. Or even a yellow. She knows that. So why doesn’t she? Because her eyes are rolling back, jaw dropping and lips parting in gasps and moans. Drooling and fucked absolutely stupid. She can’t even think. She can’t. She simply can’t, her brain melted the moment Rumi had pinned her down.
Rumi used the new angle to her advantage, putting her body weight into every goddamn thrust. Her own eyes rolled back, forehead dropping into Zoey’s neck, smushing her nose against her scent glands.
Another slam of Rumi’s hips and Zoey was sure she would pass out the next time she cums. She doesn’t. But she tries to fight it. Her feet sliding off Rumi’s shoulders to press against the collarbones, trying to shove her off with a cry.
“No-!” It’s from Rumi. Frantic. Like pulling out when she was so close was torture. It was.
“No please, i’m so close. I’m so close Zoey, i’m s-so—“
Rumi’s hands slid out of Zoey’s. Instead, moving to grip her ankles. Pressing Zoey’s feet against her ears and folding her like a goddamn chair. All Zoey could do is take it. Her nails clawing their way down Rumi’s shoulders to her back, squealing with every slam of her hips.
Pathetic whines and growls leaving Rumi’s lips and muffled against Zoey’s skin.
Close.
Her patterns pulsed and turned a lavender sort of gold, cock twitching and hips sloppy and frantic. Fueled on pure need for Zoey and for release. Relief.
“Zoey-! Zoey, Zoey, Zoey, Z— mnnn!” She came when Zoey bit down against her shoulder.
Her own smaller fangs digging into skin enough to leave blood. Sobbing, a couple sloppy thrusts, and she was cumming. Burying herself inside Zoey with a mewl and squeezing her hands, her patterns glowing gold. Head dropping into Zoey’s neck, her scent grounding her.
She could feel Zoey’s heaving breaths against her ear as she retracted from her shoulder. Zoey licking over the bite mark her teeth had left before going still. Rumi pressed kisses to her neck. Licking obsessively over her scent glands, scenting her and breathing in her own scent.
A couple minutes go by, and Zoey doesn’t so much as peep. Not a dirty joke or a breathless laugh.
“Zoey…? Zoey. Zoey, baby?” Rumi lifts her head up and— oh.
Oh god. She’s fucked Zoey senseless. Literally, unconscious.
“Oh, baby…” She wipes the tear-stains off her cheeks, pressing a kiss to her forehead before ever so slowly pulling out. Zoey mumbled incoherently in response, something about turtles… God, she was ridiculous, but she absolutely adored her.
Rumi huffs a laugh, and even though the cramping has lessened, it’s still there. She ignores it in favor of taking care of Zoey. Wiping her down with a damp towel and slipping her into some underwear and one of Mira’s band t-shirts before carrying her to her own room, setting her down between her plushies and covering her up.
Setting a water bottle on her nightstand and a bottle of Advil for the soreness in the morning.
Another kiss to her forehead.
Another, and one more just because she loves her so goddamn much before she flicks the light off and leaves to her own room.
She needs to change her fucking sheets. She should. since her cramps are bearable and Mira would be returning any minute.
When she passes by Mira’s room? God she starts up all over again.