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It's is I ChefTheFish. I'm just a writer that like a bundle of gay ships. That's about it :D uhh my pronouns are She/Her/any and my favorite color is cat I mostly write polytrix But I did write like over 20 something wenclair fics in my ao3 Which is Chefthefish so uh yeahhh Also please request anything ya want, I need ideas :p
Hey there! I just want to let you know that I accidentally reported your account when I meant to report someone else. It was a mistake and I hope it didn’t cause any issues. Message me if you want to see the ticket I received from tumblr can't send you a message I don't know why
Brother pleaseeeeeeeee stop stealing accounts 😢 tis not you twin ✌️
☆Paring: Zoey x Mira x Rumi
☆Tags: fluff fluff, miscommunication, uh smut
☆Sum Sum: Rumi and Mira been at each other throats, and Zoey is getting sick of it
☆Word count: 0.9k ☆Note: shhhhhh the new years work will happen tmw trust
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Zoey hovered outside the bedroom door longer than she meant to. Her hand rested on the knob, but she couldn’t turn it yet. The sounds leaking through sharp breaths, low growls, the rhythmic thud of the headboard against the wall twisted her gut even tighter.
She hated this week. Hated it with every fiber of her body.
Rumi and Mira had been sniping at each other nonstop. Rumi slamming cabinets in the kitchen because Mira left her coffee mug in the sink again. Mira muttering under her breath when Rumi hogged the TV remote. The two of them trading barbed comments over dinner until Zoey wanted to crawl under the table and disappear. Every time the air got thick, Zoey jumped in with distractions suggesting a walk, putting on music, offering to make dessert. Anything to smooth it over. Because that’s what she did. She fixed things. She made everyone happy. She swallowed the lump in her throat and smiled even when her chest felt like it was caving in.
And now it had escalated. Whatever was happening in there sounded violent. Angry. Final.
Zoey pressed her forehead to the cool wood of the door. Tears welled up, hot and sudden. She didn’t want them to break up. She didn’t want the three of them to break. She loved them both so much it hurt, and the thought of losing this of coming home to silence instead of Rumi’s loud laugh and Mira’s teasing smirk made her want to throw up.
She had to stop it. She had to be the one to make it better, like always.
Zoey wiped her eyes with the sleeve of her hoodie, took a shaky breath, and pushed the door open.
The room was dim, lit only by the string lights draped over the headboard. Rumi’s purple hair was loose and wild, falling over her shoulders as she loomed over Mira. Mira’shair fanned out across the pillow, damp with sweat, her back arched high. Rumi had one knee planted between Mira’s thighs, her hand buried deep under the waistband of Mira’s panties, moving with rough, deliberate strokes. The silk tie, the black one with red rabbits was knotted tight around Mira’s wrists, pinning them above her head to the headboard. Mira’s legs were spread wide, trembling, heels digging into the mattress as she pushed up into every thrust of Rumi’s fingers.
“Fuck harder,” Mira gasped, voice ragged. “Do it like you mean it.”
Rumi leaned down, teeth grazing Mira’s ear. “You’ve been begging for this all week, haven’t you? Acting like a brat just to get me riled up.”
Mira laughed, breathless. “Worked, didn’t it?”
Rumi curled her fingers again and Mira’s laugh broke into a wrecked moan, her whole body seizing, toes curling so hard the sheets bunched under her feet.
Zoey stood rooted in the doorway, mouth open, brain blank.
This wasn’t a fight.
This was.
This was the quite opposite of a fight.
They were fucking like they wanted to fuse together. Like they couldn’t get close enough. Rumi’s free hand slid up Mira’s throat, firm but gentle, thumb brushing over her pulse. Mira turned her head and caught Rumi’s mouth in a messy, desperate kiss, wrists straining against the tie not to get free, but to pull Rumi closer.
Zoey’s tears were still wet on her cheeks. Her chest still ached. But now it ached for an entirely different reason.
Mira came with a sharp cry, back bowing off the bed, pink hair sticking to her flushed face. Rumi followed seconds later, grinding down against Mira’s thigh, burying her face in pink strands with a low, shuddering groan that sounded suspiciously like Mira’s name mixed with I love you.
They went still, breathing hard, tangled together.
Then Rumi’s eyes flicked open and landed on Zoey.
A slow, smile spread across her swollen lips.
“Hey, sweetheart,” she rasped. “You okay? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
Mira lifted her head. Her hair fell into her eyes as she turned. Her expression shifted from blissed-out to startled to soft in the span of a second.
“Zo…” she started, already reaching to untie Mira’s wrists.
Zoey finally found her voice. It came out small and cracked.
“I thought you guys were fighting. Like actually fighting. I thought” She swallowed hard. “I thought I was gonna have to fix it. Again. I thought everything was falling apart.”
Mira sat up as soon as her hands were free, rubbing her wrists even though there were no real marks. She looked at Rumi. They both looked at Zoey.
Then they both started laughing soft, fond, a little apologetic.
“Oh, baby,” Mira said, scooting to the edge of the bed and holding out a hand. “Come here.”
Rumi patted the space between them. “We’re idiots. We should’ve told you the game plan. We’ve been winding each other up on purpose. Foreplay, basically. Really long, really annoying foreplay.”
Zoey stared at them. Blinked. Felt her face burn.
“You mean all week the arguing the dirty dishes and the remote and”
“All part of the bit,” Rumi admittedly sheepishly . “We figured you’d catch on eventually. Didn’t think you’d cry over it.”
Zoey huffed, wiping her eyes again. “I hate you both so much right now.”
But she was already crossing the room, climbing onto the bed between them, letting Mira pull her into a hug and Rumi press a kiss to her temple.
“You don’t have to fix everything, Zo,” Rumi murmured against her hair. “Especially not us.”
Mira nipped her ear. “Though if you wanna join the makeup portion of the evening, we’re very open to that.”
Zoey groaned into Mira’s shoulder.
But she didn’t leave.
that’s enough emotions for a whole year. ciao
The earlier in the year you reblog this the better it gets
