Chapter Text
As a media declared ‘Princess of Pop”, Rumi was somewhat a celebrity among the show business even before she became a singer. What she wanted, she got, people bent to do her whatever will, as if her words were law. As leader of the Huntrix, she naturally took to dealing with the blunt of the responsibilities, PR, public statements, you name it.
She grew accustomed to be the one in charge, the one who looks out for her girls (besides Bobby, bless his soul), who has gone with Mira and helped her deal with her family when they tried to sue her for money when they became number one in the whole country.
When a host on a talk show long gone started being disrespectful towards their maknae , prying about her parents divorce, or trying to steer some type of juice gossip about her and another idol after a feature, she was the one that stopped Mira from punching the guy in the face (trust me, he’s gonna wish i let you ), and basically destroyed the guy career, buying the station and taking down the talkshow all in one afternoon.
She has to be the one in charge, the one in control. She was raised a leader, and she was damn good at it.
But sometimes she let go of that control.
The fist in her head tightened its grip on her and she was shoved hard back on the strap in front of her.
“Who said you could stop?” Mira said with a bite in her voice, eyes heavy with lust and barely restrained anger, “Put that slutty mouth to work”.
Rumi sucked the pink strap again, tears stains and bite marks in her cheeks adorning her face while she slobbed on Mira’s cock.
Her head bobbed on the dildo, spit spilling down her jaw, the sheer size making hard to properly breath.
The hand in Rumi’s hair was the only support she had, her core strenght barely holding her up against the relentless speed with which Mira pushed her head.
Rumi struggled to keep the pace, the wetness between her legs demanding attention. Mira shoved her face till the base, burying her nose in red curls and leaving her there, motionless. Rumi resisted the urge to grind against Zoey’s lap.
Long fingers drag across her spine, caressing her bottom with lazy patterns til her outer lips, slowly contouring so gently that it made her tear up, until two fingers were shoved hard on her pussy, her gasp muffled.
“Look at her,” Zoey mock whispered while shoving her fingers in her entrance, searching for that soft spot and focusing on it when she found it, "Isn't our leader so pretty when she’s sucking you, Mir?”.
“Like a bitch in heat,” Mira grabs Rumi's chin and lifts it high enough for her to look up without dislodging her mouth, eyes glistening by the tears, “It’s that why you did it? Because you need someone to fuck you stupid? You can answer”.
Rumi took the strap out of her mouth, cheeks between soft, long fingers, looked at Zoey, who had stopped her ministrations to hear her answer, looked back at Mira and smiled, “I don't know what you’re talking about”.
She knew.
Earlier in the day they were recording with the newbie group that had ascended a few months ago. The leader, Jinu, called Rumi for a few tips as their elder in the business.
At least that's what he told her. When they got a little bit far from the others, he started to shamelessly flirt with her - It must be quite hard to find a date when you’re always flooded with attention, right Rumi-sunbae?.
It was quite annoying and Rumi was ready to turn on her heels and let him flirt with the coffee machine when she caught a glimpse of red and black in the corner of her eyes.
Mira looked like she was ready to cut the head of his body, and Zoey was practically throwing daggers at him with her eyes, a small but very obvious twitch of her eyebrow that surfaced whenever she tried to conceal her anger.
At the sight of her bandmates, she did what everyone would logically do.
She put a hand on Jinu's shoulder and gave a little chuckle at his bad joke.
The rest of the day both girls had stayed quiet, barely talking with their manager and the crew surrounding them. The ride back home was so quiet that Rumi wondered if she took too far.
When they got in the condo, she was ready to apologize, when Zoey tackled her in a bruising kiss in the hallway, while Mira had disappeared from her view. Her back hit a wall hard enough to knock the air out of her in a muffled gasp.
“You are gonna go to Mira’s room, take all your clothes, kneel and wait for us”.
And now here she was. Hands tied behind her back, bruises all over her and a aching heat pooling at her neglected groin.
“I was just talking to a friend”.
“He’s not your friend”.
“We are you friends. Your lovers”.
“He’s just a fly buzzing near our meal like a pest”.
They were getting rilled up by the second and Rumi was eating the attention all up.
“I can have other friends, you know,” Rumi said with faux exasperation, “ Besides, he was really funny”.
“Oh?” Mira arches a eyebrow.
“You touched him,” Zoey said calmly, and started to move her fingers again, agonizinly slow, barely even there. That impossible gentle touch was making here light headed, but she refuse to cave just yet, “Then, he touched you, and you let him”.
“It was just the shoulder!”.
“You know that’s not what we wanna hear, princess,” Mira caressed her cheek with her thumb, voice patronizing as if talking to a toddler that bisbehaved.
“I did nothing to be sorry about”.
“Rumi”.
She stayed silence.
“Say what you did wrong”.
“I told you, no-thing . Wanna hear in portuguese? Na-da” .
She regretted the moment the words got out of her mouth.
Rumi felt before she heard, a soft body pressed on her back, Zoey’s voice soaked with malice and barely restrained anger whispering in her ear, “Then you’re gonna learn your lesson the hard way, brat.”
Rumi looked at Mira and was met with a smirk that said, I tried to warn you, now she’s going to ruin you.