#<- i keep forgetting that this tag exist man

[lmadsadness]

i legit have no idea what to draw other than shockwave and soundwave as cats

also, i borrowed stolen /j my friend's water markers just to draw this shit (it turned out well!!)

the screenshot is blurry, i know lol

[bell-swamp-fitzjames]

mcdonald goodsir talking scene but its like an hour bc i just would like to see them talk more

[sableprince]

assorted NMS oc doodles backlog that i guess i forgot to post? i'm really bad at putting stuff in tags, like this comparatively more serious lore compilation post thing. haha. this trio is stupid.

slightly more serious teluya backstory WIP comic under the cut because it's less goofy

[perilegs]

what if i dont want toxic yaoi. what if i want toxic bara. ever think about that?

[maliciousandcrude]

Me looking at my current interests knowing full well that one day the fandoms will die out and be forgotten, new content won't be made of it anymore, and that I'll grow out of my interests one day and forget that I've ever had interests in them to begin with:

[possum-tooth]

drinking my new beer tonight bc nothing matterssssssssss :)

[keebwee]

when u don even know if ur aroace at this point bc fics make u long for such a connection . even tho the thought of that connection also icks u out majorly . this is a 4 am post beware of tags ...... i dont know what i will release....

[ramonathinks]

tags: older reader x younger satoru gojo, squirting, slight overstimulation, oral (f), smut | gojo satoru

note: i actually don’t like this fr but lol

you’ve never had a real orgasm. not at all in your almost 33 years. no man has ever even almost got you there. but you didn’t know that, you thought you had one before. feeling a bit good and then the feeling disappeared. you were… satisfied maybe? but it was always like this with guys your age.

so you knew why it was different with satoru. but man, it was different. really different.

he was 6’7, had a pretty long and girthy cock between his legs and always had a goofy smile on his face. he was 25 and for some reason… he was interested in you, instead of the younger and presumably prettier girls in the office.

from the moment he transferred to your department, he was in your face and trying to get your attention. it was always something with him — picking up some coffee for you, walking you to your car, and flirting.

it was always something small… a whisper in the ear to praise you for the good job on your presentation or a hand on your lower back.

it was supposed to only be dinner. yet here you are, with him in your bed and his mouth on your cunt.

“you’re delicious.” he mutters, lapping at your folds, stretching your lips open so he can get every bit of wetness spilling out of you. he was avoiding your flit, getting closer and closer before he moved away to focus elsewhere. kissing the trail of wetness on your thighs or dipping his tongue back inside of you. your stomach clenched and you could feel more wetness spilling out and that’s when his lips met your clit — a tiny kiss before he rubbed his face into you and sucked hard enough to make your toes curl.

he can barely wait anymore, he climbs off the bed before removing the last layer of his clothing and rubbing his aching leaking cock against your folds. pushing in, you both moan.

“you’re so fucking tight,” he hisses, moving his hips back and forth, inching himself in. he’s holding back, seeing your face twist between pain and pleasure.

“please i—” your brain is fuzzy and feels like mush, you can barely think. he’s so big and just from what’s inside, he’s close to digging you out.

“shhh… you don’t have to beg senpai. i’ll give it to you right now,” his face is still wet with your juices as he speaks and he releases a short moan feeling you around him. “feels so good already—” he says.

pulling himself al the way out just to slam back inside of you, before he slows down so you can feel every inch of him. speeding his pace so his tip can just almost touch a spot that you never had touched before… a spot you didn’t know existed, but knowing that he was close to something and feeling it .. did something to you

“sator—ahh!” your thighs are shaking and you feels big pressure in your insides that make you try to move him off of you. “i feel like ‘m going to…” he’s slamming into you with one hand on your clit as if he knows what you’re going to say.

a squirt of wetness flows as he keeps moving inside of you and you can see that wetness on his lower half but he doesn’t seem to mind it; his face is in pure bliss as he stares back into your eyes. he pushes on your stomach more, more wetness leaking onto your sheets. your eyes are rolled back but he grips your thighs and forces you to sit on top of him.

“can’t-”

“but you will, right… for me, senpai?” and it was something about him calling you senpai again that made you squirt more uncontrollably, splashing more than just a stream. he grabs your ass and grips it hard, pulling you up and down his cock. your insides tightened around him and you unconsciously rolled your hips a few times.

you could feel a wave of everything washing over you, his cock hitting a different part deep inside you, which made your back snap and you wrap your legs around him even more, cumming in his lap with a big moan; a mixture of both cream and squirt soaking his lap.

“i’ll make sure you never forget who made you cum this hard.” he kisses you, grabbing your jaw so that you can open your mouth before he spits in your mouth and you groan, sinking your nails into his back.

you wake up late, almost in the middle of the afternoon, wrapped in your sheets and satoru gone. you aren’t so surprised but you put your robe on and walk down the stairs.

you hear talking or a bit of arguing.

“listen kid, im not leaving my daughters with you. now tell me—” you freeze at the voice of your ex and you see a fuming satoru.

“no you listen—”

holding the robe even more tightly together, you walk towards the two men to make your presence known. “c’mon girls, there’s food on the table.” your daughters race to the kitchen.

“wait babe, i made that for us—” you shoot him a stare and satoru shuts his mouth.

“thanks for dropping them off, have a good day.” you shut the door and sigh. “why didn’t you wake me?”

“i tried but you were so worn out. i guess i overdone it…”

“you guess? i never came in my life and you…” you whispered, feeling dizzy thinking about last night.

“let’s get you something to eat.”

[mocharoni]

guess who's back from smelling candles and burying into blankets

[be-xkyy]

𝑌𝑎𝑛𝑑𝑒𝑟𝑒 𝐹𝑎𝑒

Warning: sexual content, age gap (20–???), r4pe, noncon, breeding kink, forced breeding, gagging, choking, spell, mass murder, death of children, black flag oc.

Tagging list: @kthehoeforfictionalmen ★ @dreamlessnight ★ @riawrld ★ @darkuni63 ★ @minshookie29 ★ @rosey1981 ★ @thejadevvitch ★ @jellystar-star ★ @sparklystrawberrycloud ★ @cutelittlesugarfairy ★

Divider credits: @cafekitsune ★ @bernardsbendystraws ★

Masterlist

Yandere Fae who has known you since you were a little girl when you wandered into his forest chasing a butterfly.

Yandere Fae who was tempted to kill you when you entered their territory; but he didn't do it since he was surprised by the fact that you passed without any problem the magical barrier that was holding him.

Yandere Fae who for some reason and against his or her better judgment ends up playing with you; He sits on the soft moss-covered ground while you cheerfully arrange flowers and leaves in his long white hair.

Yandere Fae who feels a little disappointed when you tell him you have to come home or your parents will scold you; He acts indifferent and tries to forget what happened, only to be pleasantly surprised when you return the next day.

Yandere Fae who begins meeting with you every day in the same place, but first makes you promise never to tell other humans about his existence.

Yandere Fae who feeds you candy in exchange for promising that you will be his in the future when you grow up and you happily promise it just wanting to eat more of those delicious candy; unaware of the huge mistake you made.

Yandere Fae who during one of those encounters ends up asking you your name and you innocently give it to him, ignoring the enormous and absolute power you have given him over you.

Yandere Fae who scares you to no end when he kills a man who followed you when you went to see him; Although you don't know it, he could see the bad intentions in the heart of the man who followed you.

Yandere Fae who tries to stop you when you run towards your house sobbing, but you sneak outside the barrier and he can't follow you; He waits for you to come back the next day to console you but you don't come back, you don't come back that day, nor the next, nor the next...

Yandere Fae who waits 15 long years with his sanity completely broken to be able to see you again, he feels betrayed and upset by the fact that you disappeared without a trace, leaving him alone again.

Yandere Fae who one day finally gains enough strength to break the barrier that holds him and keeps him chained to the clearing, now that he is free he only has one thing on his mind (besides giving you your rightful place at his side, obviously) to find and punish his disobedient wife for being so cruel.

After destroying your village and cruelly slaughtering all the inhabitants, not even caring about the children, he broke into your humble home and killed your parents when they tried to attack him to protect you. He also killed your innocent little sister right before your eyes. A muffled scream escaped your parched lips, and he approached you, taking you tightly in his arms before throwing you over his shoulder, carrying you to the forest clearing where you two had first met.

You tried to fight him off, twisting and kicking your legs to try and escape. Your fists pounded against his back, but the attempt was pathetic at best. Frustrated by your stubbornness, he muttered something in a language you couldn't understand, and suddenly your body felt heavy and powerless. When they finally reached the clearing he placed you on the soft mattress of moss that covered the floor.

“I apologize for the spell, but your unpleasant attitude was beginning to tire me, dear wife.”

His voice comes out soft as velvet almost like a mockery as his long, pale fingers trace the contour of your face, his long, sharp nails leaving red trails on the skin of your cheeks but stopping short of cutting the skin.

“I'm not your wife! You... are a monster!”

You try to put all your hate into your voice so he can see how upset you are about all of this, about everything he caused, but your voice sounds more like a muffled stutter, your tongue heavy with the disturbing fullness you feel in your body and mind.

“Ha ha ha! You're very funny, dear wife, but you shouldn't say things like that... your husband might get very upset, and who knows what he'd do to you?”

His laughter cuts off abruptly and his voice turns terrifyingly serious; you can't help but shudder in fear; He takes your silence as a sign of submission, so he wastes no time and begins to remove the simple dress you're wearing. His long nails cut through the fabric with terrifying ease. When your body is exposed to his eyes his hands travel to your breasts and he squeezes firmly.

“Such beautiful tits, you've become a real beauty... you're a work of art, all for your husband to enjoy, aren't you, dear wife?”

When you purse your lips, refusing to respond, he lets out a dark laugh; He looks at you with half-closed eyes, a wicked smile slipping onto his lips before he takes your nipples between his ring and index fingers, tugging firmly at your nubs, hardened by the cold, making you let out a stifled gasp and a shiver running down your spine.

“You are a fighter my dear wife and I really can't wait to see you break down and accept your destiny at my side~”

He wastes no time and opens his pants releasing his hard member; the pale length is adorned with a pink mushroom head and glistening pearls of precum at the tip. He pumps his cock with one of his hands while rubbing tight circles on your pussy with the other, being careful not to cut yourself with his nails. you feel a hot shame as your body reacts to his caresses, your pussy slowly getting wet almost dripping with love juices.

“Awww, look at that, my dear wife. Your pussy cries for me. Maybe your foolish mind won't accept its place, but your pretty body certainly will. At least this little pussy is honest with me.”

You frown at his teasing comment, letting out a gasp as two of his fingers delve into your tight heat, his fingers rubbing against your warm, wet inner walls. He leans over you, getting closer to your ear and you can't help but shiver when he speaks and his warm breath hits your skin.

“We'll have even more fun when I take you to the Fae realm with me. With my kind around, you'll think twice about doing something stupid, my dear wife.”

He laughs darkly and removes his fingers from your pussy, your sticky fluids cover his fingers and he smiles before putting them in his mouth cleaning them, when he removes them he murmurs a “delicious~” before taking his cock in his hand guiding it towards your sensitive pussy, you close your eyes as he rubs his fat mushroom head against your wet folds for a few seconds before sliding inside you.

“What a tight pussy you have, dear wife~ you feel like paradise, the wait was worth it ~”

He savors the feeling of your pussy squeezing his cock, your walls throb trying to adapt to his thick circumference, he gives you a few tentative thrusts before beginning to thrust into you firmly, you release gasps and moans at the pain mixed with the pleasure you feel, he notices the outline of his cock that is marked on your belly with each thrust, smiling his hands grab your waist and squeeze the bulge.

“You really are a sweet little thing, aren't you? Look at my cock pushing its way and abusing your pussy, I can't wait to see my son growing inside you, dear wife.”

He laughs darkly at his own words, one of his hands moves up to your chest squeezing your nipple hard twisting it between his fingers, his balls slapping again and again against your plush ass, you feel dizzy at the feeling of his fat cock hitting your cervix along with his fingers pinching your sore nipple, your toes tighten and you roll your eyes lost in pleasure.

“You're really enjoying this aren't you? Of course if I look at your fucked up face, it's very sensual you really know how to drive me crazy, you're really a little slut ~”

He releases your nipple and brings his fingers to your half-open mouth, you choke when he puts two fingers inside, flattening your tongue, he laughs pleased when you suck on his fingers clumsily, his other hand rubs circles over your pussy, your trembling legs tighten around his waist, bringing him closer to you.

He presses himself onto you even more, his fingers are stuck so deep in your throat that you gag, he takes his fingers out of your mouth just grabbing your legs, unwrapping them from his waist and opening them firmly giving him room to fuck you even deeper, his cock goes in and out of your weeping pussy over and over again, his cock throbs as his release approaches.

“I'm going to cum deep inside you and give you the blessing of being the mother of my children, you know my parents had many children... I have forty-three brothers and sisters, but I'm sure that you and I will have even more than that, my dear ~”

With those words and a few erratic thrusts he comes, he buries himself deep inside you while ropes and ropes of his thick semen fill your rubbery uterus and fertilize you, he hardly seems agitated unlike you who is blushing, disheveled and drooling beneath him, he keeps his cock inside you although a little of his semen overflows and falls to the ground beneath you causing many small flowers to grow quickly, he looks at your eyes, your pupils are a dull gray due to the spell, he can't help but smile.

“I think I went a little overboard with the effect of the spell, I should have known that your weak human mind would go a little crazy, but I will take advantage of your good will until the spell fades and returns to you.”

[astonmartinii]

but daddy i love him [guilty as sin part two] | charles leclerc social media au

pairing: charles leclerc x fem sainz!reader

when an unstoppable force (the sainz men when they feel aggrieved) meets an immovable object (charles and y/n)

MASTERLIST | SERIES MASTERLIST | TIP JAR

carlossainz55

liked by landonorris, marcmarquez93 and 783,409 others

carlossainz55: never forget where you came from

view all comments

user100: insert cricket noises here

user101: who on your PR team said this was a good idea?

user102: they need to be fired, sorry not sorry

landonorris: i love your dad (tell him to stop beating me at golf)

carlossainz55: if he never lets me win he's definitely never letting you win

landonorris: so unfair i thought i was the third sainz sibling :(

carlossainz55: i'm an only child

landonorris: oh-

user103: i need this man to choke i'm being so serious rn

user104: that's so unbelievably fucked

user105: the fact his dad is probably co-signing this shit is insane that's YOUR DAUGHTER

user106: also someone give lando a lil slap around he's on the wrong side of history on this one

yourusername: scandal does funny things to pride

carlossainz55: if the scandal is betraying your family that's all you

yourusername: if we're talking about betrayal then that's your specialist subject mr. i've cheated on every girl i've ever been with - and while we're on the topic of betrayal, yes i was the one who told them

carlossainz55: i've never cheated why are you stooping to lies?

yourusername: you did it right in front of my face when i was a part of this family

carlossainz55: so you've always been comfortable going behind my back

yourusername: that's the thing, when you're treated like you don't exist by your family you learn that blood is not thicker than water

carlossainz55: i can't wait for charles to cheat on you

yourusername: btw i already called marca, they know any of those allegations from you or dad are false - good luck!

user10: obvs i know they should be doing this in private but MORE DRAMA FOR ME BABY LETS KEEP THIS GOING

user107: thank you for the validation y/n i KNEW THE SHIT STIRRING COMING FROM THAT PAPER WAS THE SAINZ CAMP

user108: and they've got the nerve to be talking about stooping - the call is coming from inside the house

maxverstappen1: ugly twins

carlossainz55: really?

maxverstappen1: i said what i said and i mean what i said

carlossainz55: i would say she's not going to fuck you bro but you really never know with her

maxverstappen1: she would never, homewrecking is a trait only the male sainzs seem to have

user109: OOP

user110: max is a real lestappen queen fighting the battles he knows charles can't

yourusername

liked by pierregasly, maxverstappen1 and 893,405 others

tagged: charles_leclerc

yourusername: if you know within one glimpse, its legendary

view all comments

user114: i love how she goes from fighting her brother in one comment section to just showing off her hot bf

user115: tbf charles does have a face you'd go to war for so i get her

user116: i'd abandon my family for that face

yourusername: finally someone who fucking gets it

charles_leclerc: you made me believe in love at first sight

yourusername: awwwwww you're such a sweet talker the REAL smooth operator

pierregasly: i can verify it was love at first sight cause the man did not SHUT THE FUCK UP about you well... ever

charles_leclerc: is it a crime to love my girlfriend?

pierregasly: apparently!

yourusername: he's too cute to go to jail :(

charles_leclerc: they'd ruin me

yourusername: that's my job 🤨

pierregasly: you keep that to yourselves

user117: does this girl need to shade carlos on every single fucking post... yeah we get it he's the only reason you're relevant but god you reek of desperation

oscarpiastri: is this carlos' burner account?

user118: are the grid just sat around waiting to be tagged in to the fight against carlos?

oscarpiastri: what's he going to do? crash into me? he does that every weekend anyway

user119: uh oh carlos oscar is finally fighting back off track what are you going to do

user120: don't worry i'm sure he'll post a selfie with lando and try the whole carlando shtick to get some more PR points

maxverstappen1: oh this was not the shit slinging post i was hoping for

yourusername: something tells me you're having way too much fun with this

maxverstappen1: yeah you might have been abandoned by your family but have YOU considered that this is letting me express all my mean girl energy off track so i am level-headed on track

maxverstappen1: actually i don't even think i'm being mean tbf

yourusername: i'm glad my suffering could be your therapy

carlossainz55: BOO HOO you're not suffering ... it's something called the consequences of your actions (read: actions being a snakey slut)

yourusername: bro over here acting like i committed fratricide

maxverstappen1: TAP ME IN

maxverstappen1: not this man talking about the consequences of actions. kids, here's a little life lesson: if you spend all your time at your current job talking about how you have a much better job waiting for you and how you're too big for this job and plant stories about your co-workers, you can't be surprised that that same job doesn't want to keep you

carlossainz55: i am better than charles

yourusername: lying is a sin

maxverstappen1: and you're going straight to hell

user121: you guys might be mourning the loss of charlos (whatever the fuck that is) but i'm celebrating the absolute shit ton of LESTAPPEN we're getting

user122: max was like oh my bff is dating charles here's my excuse to be nice about him again

user123: if we're being real here the biggest crime of this whole situation is the fact that charles can't really dig the knife in

user124: @ silvia i have maybe £4.50 and a greggs sausage roll to my name but PLEASE LET CHARLES TAP IN

f1

liked by charles_leclerc, oscarpiastri and 1,298,006 others

tagged: oscarpiastri & carlossainz55

f1: f1... the sport that gives you just as much drama off track as we do on track!

view all comments

user125: at this point even before the whole carlos ousting his sister i think oscar was about 👌🏻 this close to rocking carlos nascar style we should let him do it

user126: i will personally pay his legal fees tbh

oscarpiastri: i'm only 23 i don't need two F1-related legal cases to my name

yourusername: i've watched legally blonde about ten billion times let me represent you

oscarpiastri: yeah sounds legit

user127: THAT'S IT WE NEED PROXIMITY CHAT IN F1

user128: the way we know there was a shit talking session like no other after this race

maxverstappen1: i don't kiss and tell but well - yes!

user128: okay since this is clearly a safe space... who was there please spill mr. verstappen

maxverstappen1: ME! charles, pierre, oscar, checo, alex and george!

user128: why the fuck were the last two there?

georgerussell63: i was on official GDPA duty 🤓

alexalbon: that's a lie we're just very nosey

yourusername: they're the biggest PTA moms ever don't even lie

georgerussell63: yes i'll make allergy friendly cupcakes for the bake sale but i'll also spit in them and gossip about your cheating husband - sorry about it!

alexalbon: he's not

georgerussell63: i'm not

user129: carlos slagging off y/n but she's really brought the grid together

user130: george and alex being like we do not care about that but we do want the latest scoop

alexalbon: oh don't get it twisted we're firmly team y/n

user131: we even got the f1 admin in on the drama

carlossainz55: she's probably fucking them as well

yourusername: BORING get a new bit babe

carlossainz55: if i see whore i'm going to say whore

yourusername: aren't you still in that damn stewards office?

carlossainz55: tell your little lap dog to keep his front wing away from my car and maybe i wouldn't

oscarpiastri: suck my dick

yourusername: now that's true poetry

user132: oH!

yourusername

liked by maxverstappen1, alexalbon and 763,409 others

tagged: charles_leclerc, logansargent & oscarpiastri

yourusername: florida !!!!!!!!!!! is one hell of a drug. no seriously what is in the water here i keep picking up these little guys everywhere i go

view all comments

user135: she's really like i AM spanish and i will colonise this grid

user136: stealing all the lil cuties for her cause

oscarpiastri: proud to be a part of this weird little circus thing we've got going on

yourusername: oh dibs on ring master

logansargent: i feel like my name is written all over tight rope walking

yourusername: okay yes skinny legend

maxverstappen1: obvs we're a cruelty free circus so no lions but if there were lions, that's me babe

maxverstappen1: SOME people could learn... cough, cough trophy hunters

charles_leclerc: idk i'll just take the one where i can sit there and be pretty

yourusername: and you would be the best at it

oscarpiastri: which one does the least? i'll take that one

user137: bro can we slow the fuck down i was just getting over osc telling carlos to suck his dick now we're talking CIRCUS?

user138: for real couldn't it have at least been cabaret i wanna see ALL of that

charles_leclerc: 🤨

carlossainz55: i think a circus is a perfect way to describe your desperate attempt to stay relevant

yourusername: don't you have a job to go to? oh wait...

carlossainz55: as if i'm threatened by a group with the likes of logan sargent in it

logansargent: bit harsh, i'm a nice guy (unlike some)

yourusername: carlos here's a little bit of a wild thing i'm about to introduce to you.... people have friends?

yourusername: also you WISH you had a face card like logie

carlossainz55: i have friends?

yourusername: no you have PR strategies, there's a difference

carlossainz55: bro learnt the word PR and ran with it

yourusername: tell me one person who would let you crash on their couch?

yourusername: QUICKLY.

fernandoalo_oficial: and don't even think about mentioning me

user139: she hit him with the bianca del rio

user140: OOP and also nando just popping up out of nowhere to diss carlos and never say anything again

charles_leclerc: the drug in question being puppy fever

maxverstappen1: tell me you didn't get a dog

yourusername: boy do i have news for you

carlossainz55: are you trying to baby trap him

yourusername: first woman in history to birth a dog you heard it here first

charles_leclerc: you simply can't be babytrapped when you would literally jump off a bridge if asked to

user141: @myboyfriend TAKE NOTES HONEY ^^^

charles_leclerc

liked by maxverstappen1, landonorris and 1,745,093 others

tagged: yourusername & oscarpiastri

charles_leclerc: two kids in one month? someone stop us

view all comments

user142: y/n really lost an apartment and a brother and gained about 27 f1 drivers and a dog

user143: glow up of the century some might say

liked by charles_leclerc

yourusername: soz it's a coping mechanism

charles_leclerc: and that's okay <3

maxverstappen1: anything to help with that emotional CONSTIPATION

yourusername: have you tried to live with those narcissistic and emotionally unavailable men?

maxverstappen1: you're asking the wrong person that question honey

yourusername: girl are WE good?

maxverstappen1: no

yourusername: BUT THAT'S OKAY

charles_leclerc: not to rain on this parade but i think therapy would really be a positive move here

user144: i feel bad for charles cause i know these hoes are the type to just tell each other EXACTLYYYYY when they make poor decisions

maxverstappen1: true, no smart bitches would let their bff live with THAT man

yourusername: and let their bff constantly chat shit and ruin their image

maxverstappen1: can't ruin my image if i'm spitting FACTS

user145: max will nawt let this go

maxverstappen1: i'll forget you but i'll never forgive the smallest man who ever lived

yourusername: GIRL

maxverstappen1: whoops, one sec. spoiler alert: y/n unleased poetry. trigger warning: c*rlos s*inz

olliebearman: ollie bearman erasure

charles_leclerc: GASP OLLIE I AM SO SORRY

yourusername: no he actually is he's crying

charles_leclerc: it's the pregnancy hormones

olliebearman: it's okay i swear

charles_leclerc: I'M A TERRIBLE FATHER

carlossainz55: i could've told you that for free

olliebearman: why are you in our family buisness

user146: charles is channelling all of his carlos rage through ollie oh my

olliebearman: i am a happy conduit for my father who is in the ferrari PR jail

yourusername: can we send carlos here and throw away the key?

user147: charles is really out there like keep my girl's name out of your mouth cause even the bitch who stole your seat for a weekend is my SON

user148: y/n wasn't joking about with this grid domination

user149: but also i'm glad all of this fun stuff is happening amongst all of the shit that's been thrown at her from her family

oscarpiastri: a leclerc and proud (i race like my dad and throw shade like my mum)

yourusername: the best way to be

charles_leclerc: proud of you, you're such a good dog brother :)

oscarpiastri: i've just learnt to be patient after alpine and lando

yourusername: you still took your shoes being leo's personal bathroom really well

oscarpiastri: he's too cute to be mad at

yourusername

liked by maxverstappen, charles_leclerc and 824,109 others

tagged: charles_leclerc

yourusername: first mother's day with my boys

view all comments

user150: gonna enjoy this super wholesome post before... he... ruins it

user151: manifesting a y/n post without that bitter old hag in the comment section

charles_leclerc: the best mother for our fur baby and our miscellaneous other children

yourusername: only the best with you :(

charles_leclerc: ugh i love you so much

yourusername: i love you even more

user152: they're so fucking cute

user153: damn carlos i too would be angry if my baby sister and my teammate outshined my third PR relationship in six months

user154: the sainz family have generational levels of hating, but one does it for good (poetry) and one does it for bad (anything carlos ever says)

oscarpiastri: happiest mother's day to my grid mum! here's to reading them to filth xx

yourusername: OSC!! i always knew you were my favourite aussie

danielricciardo: did my enchante PR mean nothing?

yourusername: i mean i wear it all of the time... but it's osc ...

danielricciardo: true, i broke my hand before i could even think of accidentally hurting him

user155: also babe is looking so unbothered, moisturised and free we need the skin care routine

oscarpiastri: the tears of carlos sainz

yourusername: and cleansing your life of toxic family members

user156: okay clearly oscar was done with the whole "i'm so chill" bit cause since his adoption by charles and y/n he's been non stop on carlos' neck

oscarpiastri: i'm a ride or die for my mum cry about it

maxverstappen1: as the kids would say ... mother is mothering? @olliebearman did i do it right?

charles_leclerc: stop trying to steal my kids

maxverstappen1: BRO I'M TRYING TO COMPLIMENT YOUR GIRLFRIEND

charles_leclerc: that's literally my job 🤨

yourusername: tbf i'll take as many compliments as i can

charles_leclerc: are mine not enough?

yourusername: when you've got a self esteem this low, you gotta take what you can get

charles_leclerc: oh :(

user157: max and y/n fighting over who trauma dumps more about their upbringing

carlossainz55: this bit is very tiring. you'll be a terrible mother and all these people you think are your friends will drop you as soon as they know who you really are.

yourusername: you done?

carlossainz55: as you loveeeee to point out, i don't have much to lose anymore so i really wouldn't test me

yourusername: trying to make me homeless and stealing all of my money wasn't enough?

carlossainz55: charles will know the truth soon enough and you won't have us to come crying to

yourusername: i'll take those chances thank you

user158: hold ON what do you mean stole all her money

yourusername: i was never allowed my own bank account so all my earnings have gone to them!

user159: okay that's it WE RIDE AT DAWN

fin.

note: oh girl life has been BUSY!!! i just got a new job and have been looking desperately for a flat to move out to. also i've had family visiting and going here, there and everywhere. but i hope you enjoy! this was a lil more light-hearted lol (until the end) so enjoy the addition of the leclerc family lore xx

ALSO i wanted to say a massive THANK YOU FOR 6,000 FOLLOWERS love you all <3

note: hiii extra note from me here. first, i will fix this tag list at some point idk why it's not working rn. secondly, i have been made aware by multiple people that there is a series just like this one down to characters and the name of the series on here and i can't lie i'm bummed about it. as i said on the first part (?) this is an idea i've had since the release of TTPD (and people will back me up on this) so it bums me out that there are blatant copies coming out! i'm all for inspiration but sometimes there's a difference between taking inspo and copying especially when my masterlist was posted ages ago and my first part was posted on the 9th of may.... anyways that's all i have to say! enjoy xx

taglist: in comments!

[soapysoapysoapysoapy]

Tactical Porn | Soap x TF141!Reader

The pub wasn’t packed, but it buzzed with the low thrum of end-of-mission tension finally loosening its grip. You were leaned against the corner of the booth, half a drink too deep, cheeks a little warm, boots scuffed and muddy under the table. Ghost sat across from you nursing a dark ale, Price was at the bar charming the poor bartender for the fourth time that night, and Gaz was telling a story with too many hand gestures and not enough point.

And then—he walked in.

Soap.

Freshly showered, but still wearing his tactical pants, boots laced up tight, black tee stretched across his chest like it was trying to hang on for dear life. Dog tags clinked softly against his chest as he slung his bag down, arm flexing with the movement.

He didn’t notice you watching. Not yet. He was talking to someone from another squad, smiling wide, that same damn smile he used after blowing something up and getting away with it.

You stared. Shamelessly.

“I mean… Jesus Christ,” you mumbled.

Gaz leaned a little closer. “What’s that?”

You blinked, realizing you’d said it out loud. But it was too late now—your drunk mouth was running. Full speed.

“I just don’t get how he exists, you know? Like—how is that man real? Look at his arms. His arms, Gaz.”

Ghost raised a brow, amused. “You alright there, sunshine?”

You waved your hand dismissively, laughing. “I’m just saying! It’s criminal. He’s got that... older guy confidence. Like he knows exactly what he’s doing and how you like it—probably doesn’t even have to try.”

Gaz nearly choked on his drink. “Bloody hell, you’re in deep.”

You nodded solemnly. “You ever seen him disarm a bomb? It’s porn. Tactical porn.”

“I’m regretting this conversation,” Ghost muttered, though his eyes were definitely smiling under that mask.

And then, as if summoned by the sheer weight of your thirst, Soap turned. Eyes scanned the room and locked right on you. His smile curled into something sharper, something knowing. He raised a brow.

You went very still.

“Oh my god,” you whispered. “He definitely heard me.”

Gaz snorted. “He didn’t have to. You’re practically drooling.”

Soap started toward your table, slow and loose, and you suddenly remembered how to panic.

“I hate everyone here,” you muttered under your breath.

“You love it,” Ghost replied.

Soap reached the table, gaze flicking from Gaz to Ghost, and then settling on you. He leaned down, bracing one hand on the back of your seat, voice low and amused.

“Somethin’ you wanted to say to me, bonnie?”

Your mouth went dry. Heat crept up your neck.

“I—uh… I like your shirt?”

Smooth. Nailed it.

He just smirked, voice like velvet and mischief. “That right? Thought I heard something about my arms.”

You buried your face in your hands as the guys lost it around you. Ghost let out an unholy wheeze. Gaz was doubled over.

Soap leaned in even closer, lips brushing your ear. “Keep talkin’ like that, and I’ll give you somethin’ better to look at later.”

He pulled away with a wink and walked off, leaving you red-faced and speechless, the table roaring with laughter.

You were never drinking around the Task Force again.

The barracks were quiet. Most of the squad was still out drinking, laughing off adrenaline and bruises. But you had ducked out early—blaming your headache, or maybe your pride.

You’d hoped he’d forget. You’d prayed he hadn’t heard you go on and on about his arms, his older-guy confidence, the way he disarms bombs like he’s undressing someone. But Soap wasn’t the type to let something like that slide.

You were halfway through changing—jacket off, shirt tugged up over your ribs—when you heard the door creak open.

You froze.

"Didn’t mean to interrupt,” came that familiar voice—low, lilting, amused.

You yanked your shirt back down and turned, heart hammering. Soap leaned in the doorway, one shoulder against the frame, hands in his pockets, that smirk already locked and loaded.

“Johnny—”

He stepped inside, closed the door behind him. “No need to get shy now, bonnie. You had plenty to say earlier.”

You crossed your arms, trying to fight the heat crawling up your throat. “I was drunk.”

He tilted his head. “Drunk enough to say the truth.”

You didn’t answer. Couldn’t.

Soap took a slow step forward, then another, until he was right in front of you. His eyes dropped, dragging over your face, your parted lips, the rise and fall of your chest.

“You said I look like I know exactly how you like it,” he murmured.

You swallowed hard. “I didn’t mean it.”

He grinned. “Aye, but you do wonder.”

You opened your mouth to snap back—deny it, laugh it off, something—but he leaned down and kissed you. It wasn’t soft. It was precise. Confident. Just like you imagined. His hand found your jaw, thumb brushing your cheek as he angled your head and deepened the kiss until your knees gave just a little.

When he finally pulled back, your lips were swollen, breath uneven.

“I was gonna wait,” he said quietly. “Figure you might get nervous. Might think I’m just older and lookin’ for fun.”

You blinked up at him. “Aren’t you?”

His grin turned dangerous. “No. I’ve had fun. What I want now’s a little more than that.”

Your heart flipped, fast and stupid.

He stepped back, letting you breathe, eyes dragging down your frame again—just long enough to make your skin burn.

“Come find me when you stop pretending you don’t want it,” he said, heading for the door. “And next time, love, don’t whisper it in a pub. Say it to me.”

The door clicked shut behind him.

And you just stood there—flushed, breathless, and already aching to chase him down.

[r3ynah]

I Hate(Love) this family.

DCXDP PROMPT

Danny goes to University out of state and begrudgingly decides to let Ellie and Dan tag along(with the help of Jazz's persuasion), allowing them to do whatever they want as long as they don't get in trouble or attract any unwanted attention that may harm their family— so what in the hell do you mean that Dan and Ellie decided that it would be a good idea to be the most annoying and chaotic pests known to man and in THE Gotham nonetheless?

Oh, who was he kidding Danny knew that forbidding something from those two only made them want it more with the sole purpose of bothering Danny as much as possible.

Like that time when he said that Dan should do something productive like get a job, because the older said "he was bored out of his mind and wanted to do something productive" something along those lines, he got a job alright, he got a job as a Rogue what the hell Dan, no one in the right mind except you would think: "Oh, I need a job I should become a rogue to annoy my alternative universe me and also the vigilantes, but mostly alternative universe me"

And It wasn't better with Ellie either she had been so busy and fascinated by exploring the different hidden locations all across Gotham, that Danny barely saw her, and the only thing that kept Danny's mind at ease that she was safe was the calls he had with her twice a day to check if she had eaten yet, because she forgets that she has to eat most of the time.

Letting Ellie hear that Dan became a rogue is no good. Both of them crave chaos and letting her know will only result in the downfall of Gotham. Knowing her if she is ever given the choice between having eternal happiness or jumping into a pit full of chaos, she'll read the non-existent rules and regulations first before jumping in without a second thought.

It's already been a problem when she started mentioning that she wanted to interact with the bats in one of her and Danny's daily calls, speaking of that Ellie it's past dinner time he should call her if she has already eaten, how strange there's a notification from her number she only decides to text him first when something exciting(dangerous) happens, there was an image of Ellie in her ghost form smiling at the camera while holding a struggling Robin by the collar like a cat while she floated inches from the ground. He stared at the image for a few seconds before letting out a sigh of resignation.

Maybe just maybe if he closes his eyes hard enough to fall asleep, he'll wake-up in the morning and realize that this was all just a nightmare caused by stress, yeah just a nightmare

It was in fact not a nightmare, and the following this is basically what followed for the next few days:

No— Dan do not mention me in any of your villain monologues when fighting the vigilantes, If you keep this up I'm legit going to trap you in a thermos along with Ellie or worse with Vlad, Jazz please stop laughing at my pain— Ellie NO.

At this point, I'm not going to die of exhaustion due to schoolwork, I'm going to die keeping this family in check. Jazz you told me that they'll behave, you promised—you lied, didn't you?

Oh, my ancients you lied.

Do you know how hard it is to keep a straight face as I see Ellie getting thrown like a Beyblade outside my classroom window, she went zoom as the professor was about to explain how trajectory of a rocket works. Jazz, please, actually stop laughing and help me, I'll start having grey hairs before I turn 50.

And... Dan just smacked Signal in the face in the middle of the road in daylight. ELLIE— put Robin back down to the ground, stop aggravating the child!

If I don't graduate college because of the two of you, I promise that I will have my villain arc, and this will be my origin story.

[inseobts]

Without the Hat

law x gn!reader

in a world of teasing, blushes, and stolen glances, law stops wearing his hat because of your compliment, but then the crew's teasing only makes everything more complicated—and maybe a little more perfect.

a/n: cutest thing I could ever think of, ngl

words count: 2.5k

tags: fluff, gender neutral reader, humor, slow burn, silly love

masterlist || ao3 || ko-fi

It starts like this.

You’re both sitting on the deck of the Polar. It’s quiet. The sea is calm. Law is reading a book, his hat on the bench beside him for once. His messy black hair moves gently in the wind.

You look at him, just for a second too long.

He glances at you “What?”

You blink “Nothing.”

He raises an eyebrow “You’re staring.”

You shrug “You look nice without the hat. That’s all.”

He stares back “...What?”

“I said I like how you look when you’re not wearing that dumb hat.”

“‘Dumb’ hat?”

You nod “Yeah. I mean, it’s kind of ridiculous.”

He keeps staring. He’s not mad, but something in his face changes.

“…Huh” he says, then looks back at his book like you didn’t just shake his entire existence.

The next day, he walks into the kitchen. No hat.

You almost drop your cup.

“Wait,” you say, pointing “Where’s your hat?”

“I forgot it” he says fast. Too fast.

“Forgot it?” you repeat, grinning.

“I was busy.”

“Busy forgetting your hat?”

He ignores you.

The next day, no hat again.

You’re suspicious.

You lean close while he’s talking to Shachi “Hey, did you stop wearing it because I said you looked good without it?”

Law doesn’t even flinch “It’s being cleaned.”

“Liar.”

“It smelled like fish.”

“Liar.”

He keeps talking to Shachi like you don’t exist.

Another day.

He walks into the infirmary. You’re sitting on the bed swinging your legs. He’s got his usual coat, but again... no hat.

“Okay,” you say loudly “What’s the excuse today?”

He looks at you. Calm. Too calm “Bepo’s repairing it.”

You squint “Why would Bepo fix your hat?”

“He’s learning to sew.”

“…Liar.”

“I support his hobbies.”

You throw a pillow at him.

And still, every day after that, the hat stays off. Even when you ask. Even when you tease.

Every day, a new excuse: “It’s drying.” “I’m testing wind resistance.” “It’s in quarantine.”

But you catch him once, in the hallway, fingers on the brim of it in his room. He sees you and pushes it away like it’s poison.

You grin.

He sighs.

“…Shut up.”

He wears it again.

Just like that.

No warning. No reason.

You walk into the kitchen and he’s standing there with his hat on, like nothing changed. Like the past week of messy black hair and fake excuses never happened.

You blink once. Pause. Open the fridge.

“...Morning” he says.

“Morning” you answer.

That’s it.

No comment. No teasing. No jokes.

Nothing.

Law stares at your back while you dig around for juice. His hands twitch like he’s waiting for something.

When you sit down with a glass, he tries again “It was windy today.”

You nod “Yep. Super windy.”

He stares harder “…So I wore the hat.”

You sip “Makes sense.”

Silence.

He stares more.

You look up “What?”

“…Nothing” he mutters, walking out with his tea like you just slapped him with confusion.

Later, in the hall you pass him. He’s still wearing it.

You smile at him. Normal. Friendly.

Nothing about the hat.

Law watches you disappear around the corner with the face of a man who just lost a game he didn’t realize he was playing.

At dinner you’re sitting across from him. Hat. On.

You talk to Shachi. You laugh with Penguin. You hand Law the salt.

You say nothing about the big round fluffball sitting on his head.

“Did you notice anything?” he finally asks mid-bite, staring dead at you.

You blink “About what?”

He frowns “Never mind.”

You lean your cheek on your hand, watching him “You okay?”

He looks away “Fine.”

Night time.

You knock on the door to his room. He opens it in a t-shirt. Hat still on.

You don’t say a thing.

“You needed something?” he asks.

You hand him a book he left in the kitchen.

“Oh,” he says “Thanks.”

You smile “Goodnight.”

He closes the door slower than usual.

Then opens it again a second later.

“…You didn’t say anything about the hat.”

You blink “Should I have?”

He stares “You always say something.”

You shrug “Maybe I got used to it.”

“…You liked it better off.”

“Yeah,” you say, calm and honest “I did.”

You turn to go “Still do.”

He closes the door again. This time, faster.

You smile all the way back to your room.

One day you walk into the control room.

Law’s sitting in the captain’s chair. Arms crossed. Eyes on some map. Hair messy as ever.

Hat: gone.

Your heart does a small, ridiculous flip.

But your face... totally calm.

“Morning” you say, walking past like your brain isn’t screaming.

“Morning” he says, not looking up.

You sit at the console. Turn it on. Pretend to focus.

Inside, you’re a disaster.

At lunch, he walks in late. Still hatless.

You look up, then immediately down at your plate. You don’t say a thing.

You think maybe your ears are turning red.

“Yo, Law,” Penguin says “New style again?”

Law shrugs “Didn’t feel like wearing it.”

Everyone nods.

You stab your rice. Stay cool. Stay normal. Do not look for too long.

You look anyway. Just a little.

Your breath catches. You take a sip of water so no one sees you smiling.

He notices.

In the hallway later, you walk past him again.

Still no hat. Still no comment.

But your eyes flick to his hair. Just a second. Barely.

He sees it.

You feel it.

You keep walking.

He stares after you with a face like he just lost and won something at the same time.

That night, on the deck you’re sitting on a bench. The sea’s quiet.

Law walks out. Stretches. No hat.

He sits beside you.

You don’t look at him. Not directly. But you feel warm.

“You’re quiet” he says.

You nod “I’m relaxed.”

“…You didn’t say anything again.”

You blink up at him “About what?”

He gives you a look. You give him an innocent one back.

Then he leans just a little closer.

“…You’re blushing” he says.

Your hand flies to your cheek “What—no, I’m not.”

“You are.”

“You’re seeing things.”

He smirks “So it’s back to this.”

You groan, hiding your face in your hands “I hate you.”

He chuckles. It’s soft. Real.

“…You don’t” he says quietly.

You peek through your fingers “Yeah. I don’t.”

It’s just the two of you on the deck again.

Stars above. Waves below. Silence between.

Law leans on the railing beside you. No hat. Hair soft in the wind. He doesn’t say anything at first.

Then, he sighs “I stopped wearing it because of you.”

You blink “Huh?”

“The hat,” he says, looking straight ahead “You said I looked better without it. So I stopped.”

You freeze.

“You never noticed,” he adds, “or at least, you pretended not to.”

You cover your mouth with your hand “Oh my god.”

He looks over, eyebrow raised “So?”

You laugh nervously “So what?”

“Why do you like me better without it?”

You panic.

“Put it back on.”

“What?”

“I’m begging you. Just… wear it. Please.” You wave your hand in the air, still looking anywhere but his face “Where is it? I’ll go get it for you.”

Law stares “You didn’t answer my question.”

You cover your face “I hate you.”

“That’s not new,” he says calmly “Why?”

You groan “Because—ugh. Because you look cute, okay? And kinda sexy.”

He blinks.

Still not looking at him, you mumble, “Your hair’s a little messy and I like it. It makes you look more… real. And softer. And… you have those few white hairs near your temple and I really, really love them.”

Silence.

You squeeze your eyes shut “There. Happy now?”

You still don’t look up.

He doesn’t speak.

You frown “What, now you’re gonna bully me forever?”

“…No” he says quietly.

You peek at him and see he’s staring at you like he’s seeing you for the first time.

“You… like the white hair?”

You groan again, turning away “Law, please, don’t make me say it twice. Once was already enough embarassing.”

He’s quiet. Then—

“I didn’t know that.”

“Well. Now you do.”

A pause.

“I like when you blush” he says suddenly.

Your head snaps around “What?!”

He smirks “Just saying.”

You throw your jacket at him and stomp off, face burning, heart racing.

Behind you, he catches the jacket… and smiles.

You avoid him for a full day after the "cute and sexy" comment.

You help Bepo with supplies. You eat fast and leave faster. You talk to everyone but Law.

You pretend you’re totally fine.

You are not fine.

You’re hiding in the engine room, checking things that don’t need checking, when he finds you.

He leans in the doorway, arms crossed. Hatless. Hair all soft and wild, like he knows exactly what he's doing.

“Hey” he says.

You glance over “Hey.”

He walks in. Slow. Casual.

You take a step back and bump into a crate.

He doesn’t stop “You running from me?”

“No...” you lie badly.

He’s in front of you now “You said I looked sexy.”

Your face catches fire instantly “I did not say it like that.”

“I remember it clearly.” He tilts his head “Kinda sexy. That’s what you said.”

You look away fast “Do you need something or are you just here to bully me?”

He hums “You said my hair was cute too.”

“I say lots of dumb things.”

“I don’t think it was dumb.”

You look at the wall. The ceiling. Anywhere but him.

Then his hand lifts and you freeze.

He tucks a strand of your hair behind your ear. Gentle. Slow. Like he has all the time in the world.

You forget how breathing works.

Then his fingers trace just under your jaw, brushing your skin lightly before dropping.

You don’t move.

“Your face gets warm so fast” he murmurs, voice low, amused “It’s kinda cute.”

You finally snap your head toward him, flustered “You’re evil.”

He shrugs “Just saying.”

You push past him, heart pounding, cheeks on fire.

And Law watches you go, smiling like he’s finally having fun.

Law’s wearing the hat again... Big, fluffy, dramatic.

You see it as soon as he walks into the main room where everyone’s gathered. You blink like it’s a ghost.

He sits down with a book like nothing happened.

But you know something’s off.

You lean toward Shachi “Since when is he wearing it again?”

Shachi grins “Since everyone started teasing him about looking too soft without it.”

Penguin laugh “Bepo told him he looked like someone's husband.”

You blink.

“…He does” you mutter before your brain can stop your mouth.

Then you look away fast. Arms crossed. Pouting a little without meaning to.

Law doesn’t react. He’s pretending to read, but you know he’s listening.

You mutter under your breath, “Why wouldn’t y’all mind your business…”

You think it’s quiet.

It is not quiet.

The room goes dead silent.

“HUHHH?” Penguin points “What did you say?!”

Shachi is cackling “Wait wait wait—did you just say—??”

Even Bepo’s blinking slowly like he just unlocked the final puzzle piece.

Law doesn’t look up, but one ear definitely twitches.

You slap a hand over Shachi's mouth “No I didn’t. Shut up.”

“Ohhhh my god,” Shachi gasps freeing himself “That’s why he stopped wearing it.”

Penguin: “That’s why he looked like a kicked puppy when he put it back on!”

You groan into your hands.

Bepo: “Captain… this is kinda romantic.”

Law finally speaks, dry as sand “I can and will throw all of you into the sea.”

They ignore him.

Shachi elbows you “So you’re the reason he had his hair out for, like, a week straight?”

You glare at the floor “Stop talking to me.”

Penguin grins “You’re blushing again!”

“Stop looking at me!”

Law stands up “Enough.”

Everyone freezes.

He walks to you. Calm. Slow. Hat still on.

He leans just a little closer, voice low.

“…You want me to take it off again?”

You pause. Swallow.

“Maybe...”

The crew explodes.

After the teasing dies down (a full hour later), you escape. You need to breathe. Your face has been hot for too long and your heart is doing laps.

You find a quiet spot near the back deck, away from the noise.

And of course he finds you again. Hat off now.

Just him, wind, and that look he gives only you.

He walks over slowly, hands in his coat pockets “They were loud.”

You sigh “They were monsters.”

He smirks “You’re the one who said it out loud.”

“It was a whisper.”

“Not really.”

You roll your eyes, but you’re smiling now. A real one.

He steps a little closer “You still mad I wore the hat again?”

You glance up at him “Maybe.”

He’s watching you.

You’re watching his hair again.

You reach up without thinking, fingers sliding gently into it.

Soft. Messy. Warm.

You ruffle it, grin wide “There you are.”

Law freezes.

He’s been touched before. Fought. Treated. Pat by Bepo. Whatever.

But this...

Your smile. The laugh in your eyes. Your fingers brushing through his hair like it’s the easiest thing in the world...

His heart does a full backflip.

Something cracks open.

He looks at you like he’s seeing sunlight for the first time.

“You’re perfect” he says before his brain can stop him.

You blink “What?”

He steps closer. You drop your hand.

He takes your wrist, gently. Just holds it.

“I said,” he murmurs, “you’re perfect.”

You stare.

“You’re serious?” you whisper.

He nods.

So you lean in, slowly. Nervous. Testing.

He meets you halfway.

It’s soft. Warm. A little awkward, like two people who definitely thought about this for too long.

But it’s real.

When you pull back, his eyes are still half-closed.

You grin “So... you gonna keep the hat off for me or what?”

He leans his forehead to yours “I might burn it.”

You both stand there for a second.

Your heart’s still racing. His fingers are still lightly holding your wrist.

Then you laugh. A small one at first, then bigger. Bright.

He raises an eyebrow “What’s funny?”

You grin, cheeks warm “I mean, I actually like the hat too.”

He tilts his head “You do?”

“Yeah,” you nod “It helps me not have a nosebleed every time I look at you.”

He blinks “What?”

You shrug, playful “Not for real, but… close.”

He snorts “You’re ridiculous.”

You wink “I try.”

Then he smiles soft, real.

“I know,” he says, “I’m joking about it though. This hat’s actually important to me.”

You nod “I figured.”

“But,” he adds, stepping a little closer again, “I do enjoy the fact that without it, you get always so… flustered.”

You pout immediately.

Cross your arms. Look away.

“Have you finished bullying me?”

He chuckles, slow and warm.

Then you feel something soft land on your head.

You blink.

He’s placed the hat on you.

Big. Fuzzy. Covers almost your whole head.

His hand gently pats the top of it.

“You look cute with it” he says quietly.

You turn to him, only your eyes visible under the fluff.

“Didn't think you’re such a menace...” you mumble, heat creeping up your face again.

He smiles again.

“You’re cute either way.”

You cover your face with both hands under the hat “I’m gonna scream.”

He hums “That would be fair.”

[chanelrolls]

THE MOTH HOUSE | Zayne Li, Caleb Xia 🔞

synopsis. growing up with them was fun, until they turned into fully grown men.

pairing. zayne & caleb x reader

tags. afab!fem reader, slight dead dove, implied pseudocest, dubcon, minor age gap, mutual pining, cheesy romance, slowburn, tension, childhood trio, kissing at 16, eventual smut (but they are adults), oral (m!receiving), sandwich, 3some, nipple play, fingering, 18+

a/n. this is very plot-based so prepare a snack while at it! i didn't do enough proofreading so might be messy and typo-filled lol. but if you're into tension-focused fics, this one is so for you

wc. 13.2k

picture ©️. HOBI

when you were nine years old, you weren’t supposed to follow them that far into the woods.

zayne had told you to wait near the fence, but you never listened when he said stuff like that. and caleb? he didn’t even look back. he just shouted something about a butterfly and took off like his sneakers had wings, crashing through branches and disappearing into the trees.

so of course you went after them, because you were nine and bored. and maybe a little afraid they’d forget you existed if you didn’t keep up.

when you finally found them, caleb was crouched in front of this sad little shed that looked like it’d collapse if you sneezed too hard. the door was hanging off like a crooked jaw, and one window was so cloudy it looked like it had cataracts.

but inside?

there were moths. everywhere!

“woah,” caleb breathed, sticking his head through the door. “this is... this is epic!”

zayne rolled his eyes. “it’s dirty.”

“no, it’s mysterious,” caleb corrected, already halfway inside. “you gotta think bigger, man.”

you hung by the door, nose wrinkled and arms crossed. “are they gonna fly into my face?”

“only if you scream,”

zayne muttered something under his breath about bacteria and tetanus but followed you both in anyway, stepping carefully like the floor might give out beneath him. which it might’ve.

but for some reason, that little shed was perfect.

you spent the rest of the afternoon cleaning it with a broom caleb stole from the neighbor’s garage (without asking), and zayne found some flattened cardboard boxes to sit on. you claimed the back corner near the broken window and said it was your ‘study area’ even though you didn’t bring any books. caleb said it was for “planning missions.” while zayne said you all needed vaccinations.

caleb wanted to call it “fort destiny,” but you shot that down immediately, “too dramatic!”

“you’re dramatic,” he shot back.

zayne voted for “the shed.”

“boring,” caleb and you agreed in unison.

so it became the moth house. no one really agreed on it. it just stuck.

you went there every day that summer. you brought juice boxes and mismatched pillows, old comic books, and one time, caleb even dragged in a radio that only played static and one fuzzy country station. it was too hot most days, and everything smelled like dust and pine needles. but you didn’t care.

you were nine. and this was your kingdom.

sometimes caleb would fall asleep snoring on the crate while zayne read something about how moths get confused by moonlight. other times, you’d all lie flat on your backs and try to find shapes in the broken ceiling. caleb saw a dragon. zayne said that was ridiculous. then you said you saw a chicken.

zayne tried to pretend like he wasn’t smiling, but you caught it.

and once, just once, you scraped your hand on a nail when you tripped, and your lip started wobbling even though you swore you weren’t going to cry. caleb freaked out and offered you a chewed-up piece of gum, but zayne just quietly pulled out the tiny first aid kit he always carried like a mini grandpa.

he didn’t say anything while he cleaned it. but his hands were careful, and he gave you the only sticker from the band-aid box that wasn’t ugly.

later, when the sun started dipping low and the moths began fluttering again, soft and sleepy, you all sat in a row by the doorway.

“we’ll still hang out when we’re grown-ups, right?” you asked.

“depends,” zayne said.

“on what?”

“if you stop eating glue.”

caleb cackled so hard he almost fell off the step. you shoved zayne's shoulder and he actually laughed, a little. just a tiny puff of air through his nose.

but you all knew the answer was yes.

on a sunday, you were not expecting to get married that afternoon.

you didn’t even ask for this. you were just sitting cross-legged in the grass, braiding little clovers into a ring, when caleb plopped down beside you and said, all breathless, “i’m gonna be your groom.”

you blinked. “huh?”

“for the wedding,” he added, puffing out his chest like a proud pigeon. “we’re getting married under the swing set. it’s the law.”

“whose law?”

“mine,” caleb grinned handsomely, showing off a juice-stained gap in his teeth. “i found the tie first, and i already practiced saying 'i do' in the mirror like… ten times.”

zayne, who had been sitting nearby flipping through some dinosaur book, looked up over the top of it. “that’s not how it works,” he muttered, adjusting the rim of his round glasses.

caleb narrowed his eyes. “you weren’t even playing.”

“i am now,” zayne said calmly, standing up and brushing grass off his shorts. “and i’m pretty sure she deserves to choose her groom, not be told by a boy who still eats crayons.”

“that was first grade!” caleb snapped, standing up to glare into zayne at eye-level.

you looked between them, amused. “i didn’t say i was marrying anyone.”

caleb ignored you. “i bring snacks to share. that’s groom material.”

“i helped her with her math homework,” zayne said, folding his arms. “long division. actual suffering.”

“i built her a fort last week—”

“that collapsed on her.”

“but it was cool before that!”

“you didn’t even factor wind speed.”

“it was made of couch cushions, zayne!”

you sighed and pressed the clover ring to your forehead like a very tired queen. “okay, okay. we can just, maybe, pretend there’s two grooms?”

both boys fell silent.

“...that’s not how weddings work,” zayne flatly remarked.

“sounds like she’s choosing both of us,” caleb smirked.

“no. she’s not.”

“yes, she is.”

"whoever wins at tag gets to be the groom!" you exclaimed with a clover ring pinched between your fingers like a sacred treasure.

caleb didn’t even wait for a countdown. he yelped, “yes!” and tore across the grass, limbs flailing, sneakers barely clinging to his feet.

“no cheating, okay!” you called after him, kind of amused, and kind of exasperated.

he didn’t answer. he just kept running like a man with a mission and a full juice box in his system.

you turned to zayne, but he wasn’t even moving. instead, he had already sat back down on the grass beside you, legs crossed while pulling something small from the pocket of his hoodie.

you blinked at him. “...aren’t you gonna run?”

he looked up, shrugged. “i don’t wanna.”

“but, what about the wedding?”

“i’m already the groom,”

your mouth opened, then shut. “how do you figure?”

he held something out to you. a dandelion.

"here. this is a flower," he said, as if it wasn’t painfully obvious. "you need flowers for weddings."

you stared at him, a little speechless.

meanwhile...

caleb, halfway across the yard and pumping his arms like he was in the olympics, tripped dramatically over a rock. he landed with a shout and skidded in the grass, dirt all over his knees and elbows.

he groaned, sat up, looked around only to realize that zayne wasn’t running behind him. at all.

"...hey!" caleb barked like a dog, furious

and betrayed, "why aren’t you tagging me?!"

zayne didn’t look up. just dusted a bit of grass off your shoulder like the gentleman he totally believed he was. caleb stomped back, dirt-smudged and puffing. “this isn’t fair!”

zayne blinked at him. “you lost.”

“i wasn’t racing myself!”

“you kinda were.”

you tried not to giggle.

"i hate both of you," caleb muttered, sulking as he sat down beside you and crossed his arms.

you held up the clover ring between them, solemn. "do you still wanna get married or not?"

they both looked at each other. then at you.

"...can we take turns being the groom?" caleb mumbled.

zayne narrowed his eyes. "i'm not sharing."

you sighed. because ugh, being nine was already this exhausting.

when you turned twelve, it started with thunder, low and slow like a grumble from the sky’s stomach. your lights flickered once, then again, before surrendering completely. the living room sighed into darkness.

you were halfway through brushing your hair when the first knock came.

it turns out to be caleb, soaked through the sleeves, and holding a duffel bag in one hand with a half-squished bag of marshmallows in the other. “power’s out! mom said i could crash here. also i brought snacks. kinda.”

five minutes later, a second knock came. you could already predict that it would be zayne. and he shows up not wet at all. he had an umbrella, a change of clothes, and a battery-operated reading lamp tucked under his arm. “your house has the safest structural foundation. i did the math.”

and just like that, the bed in your room was claimed. caleb flung himself across the cushions like a starfish. “dibs! this whole bed is mine cus i got here first.”

“you’re dripping on the upholstery,” zayne muttered, already rearranging the floor cushions with the precision of a mini architect. “besides, i brought a lamp. and logic.”

“i brought vibes,” caleb snapped back.

the bed was definitely too small. it was meant for one, maybe two if they didn’t mind getting elbowed in the ribs. but three?ridiculous.

“my foot is literally on the floor,” caleb let out a groan, flopping dramatically onto his back, arm flung over his face like some kind of old-timey opera star. “i’m gonna get frostbite and die.”

“your foot is not on the floor,” zayne argued, already facing the wall, blanket pulled over his ear. “and scientifically speaking, that’s not even how frostbite works indoors.”

“okay, mr. dictionary. then explain why i’m freezing to death right now.”

“maybe because you won’t stop moving like a hyperactive penguin,” you sided with zayne, wedged miserably between the two of them, blanket riding up your legs, one sock missing. “also, who kicks in their sleep?!”

“not me,” caleb said.

“definitely you,” zayne and you answered at the same time. “you’re a danger to national sleep.”

caleb turned his face into the pillow to muffle a laugh. “you sound like a sleep robot.”

“you sound like a vacuum,” zayne mumbled, deadpan. “loud, and constantly in the way.”

you snorted, and caleb immediately elbowed you lightly. “hey, don’t take his side!”

“i’m not taking sides,” you shoved him back. “i’m just agreeing with facts.”

caleb gasped. “betrayed. in my own home. wait, this isn’t even my home. betrayal squared.”

zayne let out a tiny breath, maybe a laugh, and shifted. “if you two are done performing shakespeare, maybe we can actually sleep.”

“fine,” caleb muttered. “but if i fall off the bed and die in the night, i hope my ghost haunts you both.”

you reached out blindly and tugged the edge of the blanket over him again. “you won’t.”

“you promise?”

“yeah.”

it was quiet for a bit. just the sound of sheets rustling, of breathing starting to slow. then, caleb’s voice, soft and already sleepy: “…you’re not cold, right?”

zayne didn’t answer immediately. then, barely above a whisper: “not if you stop hogging the covers.”

you smiled into the dark. it took a while, but eventually, you all settled, limbs tangled, breathing steady, three messy little universes orbiting one too-small bed.

and even though someone would probably fall off in the middle of the night, for now… it was enough. your tiny, chaotic world, all tucked in under the same old quilt.

during the day of caleb's football game, you were there.

the sun was hot in that way that made your scalp itch. metal bleachers burned the backs of your thighs, and the little paper fan in your hand was doing next to nothing. still, you sat there, legs swinging, a half-eaten orange popsicle clutched in your palm with your eyes trained on the field.

caleb stood out immediately.

maybe it was the way his jersey stuck to him, number 12 plastered to his back in grass-stained white. or the way his hair, damp from warm-ups, curled slightly at the ends. his socks were mismatched again. always one red stripe, one blue. his coach gave up on him weeks ago.

but when he ran?

you forgot about everything else.

the way his body moved, loose and fast and sharp with energy, it made your heart do this weird thud thing in your chest. and then he grinned across the field, squinting into the bleachers like he was looking for someone.

you waved, stupidly. almost jumping off the bleachers with your bagpack bouncing behind your back.

then, he saw.

caleb’s smile widened. “found her,” he mouthed, before jogging back into formation.

you bit into your popsicle.

“so.” a voice beside you sounded, seemingly sounding like it belonged to somebody you know too well, his tone was flat and unimpressed.

you turned, nearly dropping your popsicle out of surprise.

zayne stood beside the bleachers, one strap of his backpack slung over one shoulder, a stack of thick books tucked against his chest. his button-down shirt was too neat for a saturday, and there was a pencil behind his ear like he forgot it was even there.

his hair, black and just slightly too long, was falling into his eyes again. he didn't fix it this time, like he was more worried about something in particular.

“...zayne?”

he looked straight at you, not unkind, just... unreadable. he always looked like he was solving a problem in his head. “i thought,” he glanced down, then quietly, “you were coming to the science fair.”

your stomach dropped a little. “i- i wanted to. but caleb’s game... he, um, he said he’d be really upset if i missed this one, and—”

“i see.” he shifted, averting his gaze to the game at the bottom. “it’s not a big deal.”

you winced. “zayne, i'm sorry...”

he didn’t answer. instead, he climbed up the bleachers, sat beside you, with the books stacked neatly on his lap. his shoulder barely brushed yours.

you sat in silence for a moment, before the roar of the crowd reverbated throughout the vicinity. the whistle blew, caleb’s voice rang across the field, laughing, cheering.

“he’s good,”

you nodded, quietly. “yeah.”

“i built a robot that follows voice commands back at the science fair,” he said a second later, eyes still on the game. “it waved when i told it to.”

your head whipped to look at him, and he didn’t meet your gaze. but his lips quirked, just barely. “you’re the only one it listened to, though.”

you tried to keep your eyes on the game. you really did.

but zayne was talking, and while he talked, he had this way of pulling you in like you were inside the blueprint of his brain. he pointed at his sketchbook now, flipping past careful diagrams and scribbled notes

“and then here,” he murmured, “i rigged the infrared sensor to- wait, no, see this?” you leaned closer, feeling how his shoulder was warm against yours. “that’s where it malfunctioned,” he added, tapping the corner of the paper with the side of his finger. “but i fixed it. i rerouted the code.”

you smiled. “you’re really smart, you know that?”

he looked at you then. really looked.

your breath caught, not because it was romantic, not exactly. but because zayne, your zayne, looked like someone who’d outgrown his baby face without telling you. his lashes were darker than you remembered.

“i’m just trying stuff,” he pursed his lips together, blinking slowly, “doesn’t mean it’s good.”

you shook your head. “it is!”

on the field, you weren't aware that caleb had scored again. the crowd burst into cheers while you didn’t. you didn’t even look.

caleb’s head turned toward the bleachers, expecting your face, expecting your grin, your thumbs-up, the kind of cheer he only cared about when it came from you. but instead... you were hunched beside zayne, whispering and smiling. like he wasn’t even there.

his stomach twisted.

he jogged back, tossing the ball between his hands with a bit more force now. his eyes didn’t leave the two of you.

caleb narrowed his eyes when he catches you giggling at something zayne said, leaning in closer to hear him better through the cheers.

and then he hurled the ball too far, too high, directly toward the bleachers.

right at zayne.

it landed with a loud thunk against the metal rail, bouncing down and nearly smacking zayne in the knee. “oops!” caleb called, cupping his hands around his mouth. “sorry!”

you both turned, startled. you looked down at the field, at caleb. and he was grinning too wide that it reached his eyes.

“guess i missed,” he added, voice bright and sharp like a joke with teeth.

sixteen was strange. not in a dramatic, movie-kind-of-way, but strange in the small, quiet shifts. like how caleb didn’t always wait at your locker anymore,

or how zayne stopped answering texts right away because he was “studying,”

even though you knew it probably meant he was tired or stressed. or avoiding something he couldn’t name.

you were still a trio, sure. but the threads were looser now. like someone had tugged too hard at one corner, and no one knew how to weave it back.

zayne had books under his arm constantly, a pencil always behind his ear. he talked about scholarships and internships and universities you hadn’t even heard of yet.

sometimes he forgot to look up when you waved. though sometimes he didn’t forget, he just pretended to.

caleb had his team. he walked different now, with a swagger he never used to have, like he’d grown into himself a little too fast. he laughed louder in hallways you weren’t standing in. sometimes you’d pass him and he’d smell like sweat and cologne and someone else’s perfume.

and you... you were trying not to be too obvious. not to sit too close. not to ask too much. because at sixteen, people started assuming things. and you didn’t want to mess anything up.

not with zayne, who still offered his umbrella when it rained. not with caleb, who still flicked your forehead when you zoned out too long.

you were careful now, too careful.

because you still saw them as your brothers. just caleb and zayne. nothing more. nothing less.

but sometimes, in the way they looked at you in hallways and crowds, you started to wonder if they still saw you the same way.

the rain had been falling since last period, but you didn’t realize how hard until you were already halfway to the gate with no umbrella and nowhere to run. now you were tucked under a narrow shed behind the gym, cold water dripping from your elbows, while your uniform clung to places you didn’t want it to.

you wrapped your arms around yourself. not from the chill, really. but from how aware you were of how your soaked shirt left nothing to the imagination. your skirt wasn’t doing much better even. if someone saw you right now…

“you shouldn’t be standing out like that.”

you jumped at the voice, breath catching in your throat.

zayne stood just a few steps away. he didn’t look like he’d run through the rain. he looked perfectly composed, and his umbrella hovered neatly above him, barely a drop on his shoulders. he wore his uniform right, as always.

he looked at you, and his gaze slipped downward to your chest, your skirt, your trembling thighs... then it snapped back up like he hadn’t meant to. but you saw it, and he knew you saw it.

you tried not to shift under his stare. “i didn’t plan to... get stuck.”

“obviously.”

he hesitated, then stepped under the shed, offering the umbrella out to you. his fingers brushed yours when you took it, lingering a bit too long. “i’ll walk you home.”

“it's alright, you don’t have to—”

“i want to.” he said it too fast, and when you looked at him, you couldn't quite decipher the expression he wore on his face, but you could see how his ears grew pink.

the umbrella barely covered both of you, so he stood close, closer than before. shoulder to shoulder, arm to arm. every time he adjusted the angle to cover more of you, his fingers brushed yours.

your shirt was soaked through and completely transparent that you didn’t even need a mirror to know. zayne definitely didn’t mention it, but he wasn’t breathing the same way either. a little too shallow. his jaw clenched every time you moved, like he was trying not to look again.

and maybe that made it worse. that he was trying.

when a breeze blew and your skirt shifted, his hand shot out to catch the umbrella. that’s what it looked like. but it brushed your lower back on the way. and then he didn’t move it right away.

“sorry,” he muttered, voice lower.

you didn’t answer.

your house appeared too soon. zayne stepped up onto the porch with you, water dripping off the umbrella. he still didn’t say anything about the way your shirt clung to your chest, or how your thighs were practically visible through the skirt.

he just glanced once more, and then looked away, harder this time. “are you okay?” he asked. it came out rougher than he probably meant it to.

“yeah. thanks for walking with me.”

his jaw shifted again. “mhm, of course.”

you waited, expecting him to turn back down the path. but he didn’t, not right away.

so you offered softly, “do you wanna come in?”

his eyes lifted to yours. “i probably shouldn’t,”

the rain hadn’t let up.

zayne sat alone on the couch, damp blazer folded neatly beside him, with his hair still a little wet and curling at the ends. the television was on, but low. he wasn’t watching it, instead he was listening to the faint shuffle of your footsteps upstairs, the creak of your door, the sound of drawers opening and closing.

he leaned forward, elbows on his knees, hands clasped so tightly his knuckles were white. it wasn’t cold, but he felt restless. like his body didn’t quite know where to place itself in your house anymore.

and when you came downstairs again, changed into a loose shirt that hung too soft on your frame, shorts that showed just a little too much skin, he almost forgot to breathe again.

“are you feeling alright now?” you asked, drying your hair with a towel, casual like nothing had changed.

zayne cleared his throat, “what? mm. yes, i’m fine.”

you flopped beside him, your thigh brushing his before tossing the towel on the armrest. “it’s boring,” you said, settling back, curling one leg beneath you. “let’s just talk or something.”

talk.

zayne didn’t trust his voice for a second.

he turned to look at you, and that was a mistake, because you looked so relaxed. too relaxed. and your shirt had slid a little off one shoulder, exposing skin he absolutely should not be looking at.

his gaze dropped, snapped back up, then his adam's apple bobbed up to down. “sure,” he managed, voice strained.

you smiled. and that made it worse. “why’re you so stiff?”

“i’m not stiff.”

“you’re literally sitting like you’re being held hostage.”

“i’m—” he laughed, short and tense. “i’m just trying to be respectful.”

you tilted your head. “respectful?”

he cleared his throat again and looked away. “nevermind.”

you pulled your knees up onto the couch, wrapping your arms around them as you watched zayne pretend to be interested in the tv. the air was still damp from the rain. he was sitting a cushion away, but it felt like a mile, or an inch. you couldn’t tell.

“you’re acting weird, zayne.”

zayne didn’t answer at first. his jaw clenched a little, eyes flicking to the tv and then, briefly, to your legs curled up beside him. “it's important to be cautious.”

“cautious?”

he nodded, still not looking at you.

you shifted slightly. “since when did that start being a thing between us?”

he finally turned, and you wished he hadn’t, because his eyes were so focused that it made your stomach twist in some unfamiliar way. “since now.”

you wet your lips, heart thudding. “what… what does that mean?”

he leaned back just a little, exhaling like he was debating with himself. then he reached out, slow, fingers brushing lightly over your cheek. “when we were kids,” he murmured, “i could touch you like this.”

his fingers drifted down to your shoulder, and your skin prickled under the contact. you hated how aware you suddenly were of everything. how close he was, how warm his hand felt on your skin.

“or here,” he voice dropped to a whisper, letting his hand pause on your arm.

his gaze dropped to your thighs, and you could almost combust from the amount of tension he's giving you. his fingers gently grazed your knee, then up to where your shorts ended. “and even here.”

your breath hitched. you didn’t mean for it to, but it did. his hand lingered a second too long, while you couldn’t look away from him.

then he pulled away, sharply. as if he had already decided for the moment to snap. “but now that i’m a teenager,” he paused. “it’s different.”

your chest rose and fell a little faster than it should’ve. “…different doesn’t always mean bad,” you suggested, voice quieter than before. you didn't know if that was an offer hidden in innocence, you hadn't meant it that way. but if zayne would accept it, you wouldn't complain either.

—

caleb [6:12pm]: practice just ended. you free? swing by. door’s open.

you stared at it for a moment longer than necessary, thumb hovering above the screen. the message was just casual, as if he hadn’t just been giving you space for the last few weeks. as if the three of you hadn’t started orbiting different stars lately.

you typed back. it's been a while, after all.

you [6:14pm]: yeah. omw.

the dorm building was already shadowed by the time you arrived. it was quieter now. dinner hour, probably. the air still smelled faintly of liniment and detergent, like it always did when you passed by the practice wing. you made your way up the stairs, familiar enough to not get lost but still unsure why your heart was beating faster with every step.

you didn’t knock. you only pushed the door gently, peeking in. “caleb?”

no answer.

you stepped in anyway, and paused. because the view was rather... something. he had his back to you, shirtless.

his shoulders were broad, not the lanky mess they used to be in middle school. they were much more... defined now. his back glistened with leftover sweat, and there were jagged, smudged bruises, patches of violet and red, splayed across his shoulder blades like careless brushstrokes.

he was digging through his gym bag, towel slung around his neck, muttering something under his breath about his socks.

you froze.

and maybe you should’ve said something, or made a sound, but your voice caught somewhere in your chest. not out of shock, not even embarrassment. it was just… you didn’t expect him to look like that.

not looking like your childhood best friend.

then he turned, eyes locking with yours. and for a split second, both of you just stared at each other. “damn, you’re fast.”

“you’re shirtless!”

“yeah?” he tossed the towel onto the bed like it meant nothing. “i live here.”

you stepped in, closing the door behind you. “you’re also… bruised.”

“yeah,” he muttered, shrugging one shoulder with a wince. “scrimmage got rough. elbows, knees, pride. everything took a hit.”

he grinned like it was fine, like it didn’t hurt at all. but still, you stepped closer in an attempt to check them out. “does it still sting?”

he tilted his head, staring down at you. only then you got to realize the height difference both of you had, he was practically towering over you already. “you gonna kiss it better?”

you rolled your eyes. “you’re insufferable as always.”

“but you came,” he shot back, half-sitting on the bed. “so maybe i’m still charming enough.”

sigh.

"do you have any ointment?" you asked softly, eyes scanning the mottled bruises on his back. caleb paused, then nodded toward the drawer by his bed.

you then moved to get it. the dorm room felt smaller now, more tender. maybe it was the fact that he hadn’t put a shirt on, or maybe it was the fact that neither of you had really spoken like this in weeks.

you returned and sat behind him so you could have better access to his back. “you sure 'bout this?” you asked, uncapping the ointment. “it might sting.”

he finally glanced back, eyes lidded, a breath of a smirk on his lips. “only if you’re rough.”

you snorted and dipped your fingers into the ointment. “what a baby.”

“only for you.”

you hesitated, caught off guard by his sudden flirting. he had always been like this ever since you were nine, and yet you couldn't help but recall what zayne had told you the other day. about how now that you're teenagers, the things that you used to normalize back in childhood feel different. then, you touched the first bruise, right below his shoulder blade. he hissed lightly in response.

“sorry,” you murmured.

he only shook his head. “nah, keep going.”

so you did. slow, gentle, spreading the cool gel across angry purples and dusky reds. your fingertips followed the slope of his back, avoiding the worse scrapes. it was quiet for a moment, until you spoke. “zayne said you bailed on cooking last night.”

caleb exhaled through his nose. “i didn’t bail. practice ran long and coach kept us past curfew.”

“you could’ve at least texted.”

“what, and ruin your alone time with him?”

you glanced at him. “...you sound bitter.”

“do i?” he didn’t say anything else. you kept your hand still against his back, watching his posture. the muscles under your fingers had tensed slightly. “you two talk a lot lately,” he added after a pause.

“we’re just catching up.”

“right.”

you moved to the next bruise. this one was higher, closer to his spine. he inhaled a little when your fingers touched the spot, and for a moment, you didn’t say anything either.

then you asked, “why don't you hang out like before anymore?”

“...we do.”

“doesn't seem like it.”

you didn’t mean to freeze.

but caleb turning around to face you with a half-grin, all mischief, kind of knocked the air out of you. the cut that he showed wasn’t deep, just a thin angry line over his chest, but he acted like it was life-threatening.

“hey,” he gestured, cocking his head. “wanna earn your nurse badge today?”

“you’re ridiculous,” your fingers hovered over the ointment tube, heart pounding like you were diffusing a bomb instead of treating a scrape.

“you’re taking forever,” he teased.

“maybe i should just leave it to get infected.”

“i dare you.”

you rolled your eyes and finally pressed the cream to his skin. his chest was warm under your touch, taut with muscle but still faintly bruised. he didn’t flinch, neither did he look away.

you, on the other hand, couldn’t bring yourself to meet his eyes.

until you did.

he was staring. not in a teasing way now, but in that way that made your whole brain short-circuit. he looked at you like he could see something you weren’t even sure you were showing.

then, without warning, he caught your wrist in his hand.

“you’re already sixteen, right pipsqueak?” he suddenly asks, voice dropping to an octave. “it’s impossible you don’t got a crush yet.”

you blinked up at him. he was close, close enough that you could count the lashes of his eyes, close enough to smell the faint citrus of his body wash. he smirked, just a little. “do you?”

your heart was doing that annoying thing again, thudding against your ribs like it was trying to make a break for it. his hand was still lightly around your wrist, and your mouth felt dry.

“i-i don’t like anyone,” you finally blurted, the words tumbling out too fast and defensive.

caleb’s brows rose, stretching his grin. “ohhh?” he leaned in slightly, tilting his head like he was trying to read something written on your face. “you sure about that?”

you scowled, heat crawling up your neck. “yes.”

“positive?”

“yes.”

he couldn't keep a straight face anymore as he gave out a knowing laugh and leaned back, finally releasing your wrist. “alright, alright. calm down, pips. i believe you.”

you rolled your eyes, pressing the ointment lid back on like it personally offended you.

but then caleb stood up with a stretch, ruffling his already-messy hair. “anyway,” he said, tone suddenly lighter, like that weird moment didn’t just happen. “how ‘bout we crash zayne’s place tonight? for dinner or something.”

“really?”

“like old times.” he glanced at you, shrugging a shoulder. “we haven’t done that in a while, right? bet he’s still hoarding those weird triangle sandwiches he thinks are gourmet.”

you let out a small laugh despite the aftertaste of your nerves. “you just want free food.”

“damn right i do,” he grinned. “but also… maybe i kinda miss the trio. just a little.”

you nodded slowly. “yeah. me too.”

caleb grabbed his hoodie from the desk chair and tossed it over his shoulder. “cool. c’mon then. let’s go bother the genius.”

—

the table was already set when you arrived, neatly arranged dishes with zayne’s unmistakable touch. curry rice, roasted vegetables, those weird triangle sandwiches caleb joked about, and even your favorite juice poured into mismatched cups.

zayne was wearing his usual cardigan and pajama pants, sleeves pushed up, hair a bit messy from cooking, but still frustratingly put-together. “you’re late,” he said with a straight face as you walked in, but there was a flicker of a smile at the corner of his mouth.

caleb strolled in behind you, tossing his bag on the floor. “yeah, yeah, blame basketball. you should be glad we even showed up, chef.”

zayne scoffed, already sitting down. “if i knew you were coming, i would’ve made extra protein powder stew.”

you snorted. “gross.”

“don’t give him ideas,” caleb replied as he plopped down across from zayne, stealing a piece of bread. “so, did you cook all this just to show off or something?”

zayne didn’t look at him. “i cooked because she always liked this combo,” said he, eyes flicking to you instead.

that made you blink, and caleb paused mid-chew.

“…right,” caleb muttered, clearing his throat. “well, i bet she liked my game-winning shot yesterday too. y’know, if she even saw it.”

zayne raised an eyebrow. “you mean the one you landed after ignoring your coach’s strategy and almost spraining your ankle?”

“oh, so you were watching?” caleb grinned, teeth showing. “that’s cute.”

you sat down slowly between them, feeling the air shift. what was supposed to be friendly banter had the undertone of something else now. there were too many sideway glances, too many moments when they were both speaking to each other, but their attention kept bouncing to you.

zayne passed you a plate. “are you okay? you look flushed.”

you nodded quickly. “just hungry.”

caleb leaned on his elbow. “you always get red when you're caught in the middle. c’mon, say it, who’s the better cook?”

you choked on your juice.

zayne didn’t smile. “don’t pressure her.”

“oh?” caleb leaned back, stretching, the hem of his shirt lifting just slightly. “scared of the answer?”

zayne finally looked at him with squinted eyes. “not really. but some of us don’t need validation every second.”

you reached for the rice, trying to drown yourself in the meal. both of them had grown taller, deeper voices with sharper gazes. and suddenly, this wasn’t just dinner anymore.

you missed when things were simple.

"you know, if we’re rating effort," caleb added, "mine would’ve been a five-star takeout. but nooo, zayne had to go full iron chef."

“that’s because i actually care if our internal organs make it past tonight.”

“please,” caleb rolled his eyes, “you burned toast until you were twelve.”

“i was experimenting,”

you took a bite of the stir-fry, trying not to laugh. “it’s good. really.”

that was all it took. "she said my dish was good," zayne turned with the faintest smirk.

“your dish?” caleb leaned forward on the table. “who do you think helped slice those vegetables? oh, right, me. with these very hands,” he held up his fingers like they were divine.

“you almost sliced your thumb.”

“but i didn’t.”

zayne sighed. “if we’re going there, who carried your groceries when your arms were sore from practice?”

caleb scoffed, “who ran across campus with your laptop when you forgot it before a big test?”

“who fixed your wi-fi?”

“who held your hair back when you puked in eighth grade?”

"who helped you rehearse that weird

speech for student council in ninth?"

they were both leaning closer across the table now, eyes locked together as their egos continuously inflated by the second. you watched like a spectator at the world’s dumbest showdown, until their focus now shifted onto you, now throwing the ball at your court.

“who’s the better listener?”

“who’s more supportive?”

“who makes you laugh more?”

“who’s more dependable?”

and then...

“who’s the better kisser?”

the silence was instant.

zayne blinked.

caleb's eyes widened.

your fork clattered onto the plate.

“…i haven’t kissed either of you,” you blurted, eyes darting between them.

so, caleb leaned back, suddenly fascinated by the ceiling. while zayne stared at his glass of water like it held the secrets of the universe.

for a moment, you couldn't speak. you could only keep your eyes glued on the empty plate before you, as if counting the leftover crumbs grazed along the surface. you tightened your grip around your spoon, biting your lower lip. your heart's thudding again, cause you have always pushed that thought away.

what thought? even now, you still did.

the thought of recognizing that there might be something beyond the threads of your sibling relationship. even though they were really just your childhood bestfriends, you were used to seeing them as your brothers. and now... the thought of kissing them was brought to the table.

you gulped, trying to shift your gaze anywhere, but instead landing on caleb, who's been staring at you for quite some time already. when your eyes met, he instantly glances down.

"how old are you now, [name]?" suddenly, you heard zayne speak from the other side. you look up at him, locking eyes with his emerald ones.

it took you a while to answer, trying to process the odd question. you could also feel caleb's eyes on you too, as if anticipating as well. "sixteen," you finally say, but you sounded so serious you didn't like it. "you attend my birthday every day, i mean, every year. how could you not know?"

your attempt at making the situation lighthearted was futile, as both boys remained expressionless. zayne spoke again, "you're turning seventeen next month."

you and caleb watched him in curiosity, trying to figure out the intent behind his words. he continued, "your age seems appropriate enough for... kissing. so, who's the best kisser, you say?" zayne finally averts his gaze away from you to focus on caleb.

caleb eyes him back, his two fingers resting on his philtrum. you noticed his ears turning red, as both men stared at each other in contemplative silence, as if they were telepathically sending messages.

and you were just there, clueless. you stand up, the chair making a loud sound against the floor. "i'll go- wash the dishes."

zayne barely flinched at the sound of the chair scraping, but his voice came quick, like it had been waiting. “leave it. i’ll do it later.”

you blinked, halfway turned toward the sink. “but—”

“sit down, girl.” caleb interrupted, softer than usual. he was still leaning back, hand now dangling over the edge of his chair, knuckles tapping lightly against the wood. his eyes flicked to yours and held them there. “it’s not like we’re gonna bite.”

you stared between them, and your fingers twitched against your thigh, but you sat back down, carefully. as if lowering yourself into a dream you weren’t sure you wanted to have.

“sorry,” you said, mostly to break the tension. “that was weird.”

“no,” zayne replied, sharp but low. “it’s not weird. it’s…” he trailed off, sighing through his nose, then leaning his arms onto the table. “you were the one who always said things would change. remember?”

caleb scoffed. “she was also the one who said she’d never date either of us ‘cause we were like… family.”

you looked at him, startled by the precision of the memory. his lips quirked, but there was no real smile behind it.

“you were eleven,” zayne muttered, almost to himself. “and we were idiots.”

“still are,” caleb added, shrugging.

zayne looked at him. caleb looked back.

again, that quiet stare-off. and again, your pulse picked up.

your throat felt dry. “you guys…” your voice faltered. “you’re not actually expecting me to answer that question, right? about the kiss?”

silence.

then, zayne leaned in slightly, “you don’t have to answer.” his eyes flicked to your lips. “but if you ever wonder… it’s not something we’d ever take lightly.”

caleb sat forward now too, “not a joke, pipsqueak. not this one.”

you looked down at your lap, hands clenched. “...i do wonder.” you weren’t even sure why you said it. maybe it was the silence. maybe it was the way they were both looking at you like you were something they couldn’t quite hold yet. maybe it was the way your heart had been thudding in your ears for minutes now, demanding some kind of release.

“you wonder,” caleb echoed, and his voice dropped. “about me? or him?”

"caleb." zayne warned.

"what?"

“…i don’t know,” you muttered. “both of you, i guess.”

the air fractured again. and this time, it stayed silent long enough that you had to look up. caleb’s brows were raised, lips parted like he hadn’t expected honesty. zayne’s mouth was pressed into a thin line, but his ears were pink.

caleb's voice cut through the stillness like a blade. “you can get your answer right now.”

your breath hitched. you looked at him, eyes wide, heart ricocheting off your ribs. "that's not- i didn't mean-"

“you sure?” caleb interrupted, a hint of seriousness blending in with his usual mischief. "because if you really wanna know, i'm not gonna pretend i haven’t thought about it too.”

you couldn’t look away. caleb was still there, waiting, giving you an out, but not backing down either.

he leaned forward, elbows on his knees, and his voice dropped even lower. “you’re sixteen, pipsqueak. you feel things. and we’re not kids anymore. maybe it’s okay to stop pretending we are.”

zayne’s footsteps were quiet but firm as he stood up to gather the plates, standing right behind your chair. “or maybe,” he said slowly, “we’re not going to pressure her into anything just because we’re feeling bold tonight.”

“i’m not pressuring,” caleb replied. “i’m offering. there’s a difference.”

these weren't the same boys that you chased frogs with back in your childhood summer.

the words left your lips before you could even think them through. "then... i'll take that offer right now." you couldn't take it back now. you couldn't even back out of it.

"you sure about that?" caleb's voice was a little hushed, as if he didn’t want to push too hard. you could feel zayne's presence radiating behind you too.

"yeah," you whispered, your voice trembling ever so slightly, but there was a sense of resolution in it. "i think i am."

the room grew even quieter, only the sound of your own breath and the slight shift of the chairs beneath you breaking the stillness.

caleb didn’t speak at first. he simply stared at you, like he was waiting for you to change your mind. but you didn’t. he let out a low breath, a small smile playing on his lips. “alright then, pipsqueak. you know what you're getting into?” he pulls the legs of your chair closer.

before either of them could say anything else, you broke the moment by standing up abruptly, hands brushing your clothes nervously. "well, i—"

"hey, no running away." caleb’s voice was playful, but there was something darker beneath it, a promise you weren’t sure you were ready to face.

zayne’s hand landed gently on your shoulder, guiding you back into your seat. his touch was reassuring but left a warmth that lingered, a contrast to the uncertainty that was swirling inside you. “don’t act like you’re going anywhere. you started this.”

right, yeah, you did start this somehow. you also would be lying if you said you weren't curious of how far would this go if you explored just a little further.

you glanced at caleb, but his eyes weren't on you. instead, they were on zayne. he was giving him a look that you couldn't decipher, but you could tell it was one that held an intent beneath.

slowly, you turn your head to look up at zayne still standing behind your chair. he looks down at you, but he doesn't speak. and then, you feel fingers grazing your jawline. and you're pretty sure it's not zayne's.

the grip on your jawline gets more forceful, and before you could look at the one who it belonged to, you feel a pair of lips press on yours. a yelp got stuck in your throat, and your hands instinctively find their way onto caleb's shoulders.

was he a good kisser? you couldn't tell. you didn't have experience anyway. caleb was only pressing his lips deeper, sometimes using his tongue, you weren't sure if it's right, but you were sure about the effect it had on you.

and caleb? he had his eyes shut tight, breathing desperately like he'd been waiting for this to happen. cupping your face tenderly because you've been the only girl in his mind, the only girl his body had been aching to have.

he pulled away, not because he's had enough, but because he was afraid that he might touch you somewhere else if he kept on going. his eyes flickered to your body, before going back into your eyes. for a second, you saw something raw pass through his façade, something vulnerable.

before you could even make it out, another pair of lips were already on yours again. from zayne's position, he bent over to give you a pick, pulling away to check on your expression, and when he saw the way you stared into his eyes, he dives in again.

caleb watched, his eyes followed the way your lips tried to keep up with zayne's pace. then, he interrupts, "you're enjoying it a bit too much." which pulled you and zayne both out of the trance.

your lips parted as you slowly leaned back, breath shallow, heartbeat loud in your ears. it was like time stalled. there was no ceiling fan, no ticking clock, no leftover dinner scent. just the phantom of both their lips against yours.

you didn’t know what you expected. fireworks? a spark? maybe clarity?

instead, it was a storm. a tangled rush of confusion and heat, of everything that shouldn’t be real suddenly becoming too real.

"so...?" zayne spoke, “was that enough for a verdict?”

you swallowed. “i…”

you didn’t know what to say.

because how could you weigh something like that? how could you explain the butterflies and the guilt, the thrill and the ache? how could you admit that for the first time, you weren’t sure if you were still just childhood friends anymore?

and ever since that night, something cracked between the three of you.

you didn’t talk about the kiss. no one did.

but you felt it in the way caleb stopped sending random memes to your inbox, in the way zayne no longer waited for you by your classroom door after school. the group chats fell quiet. the little traditions, the teasing, the banter, the familiarity. it all faded into something strained and tiptoed around.

at first, you told yourself it was just a phase. that maybe everyone was busy, that things would snap back eventually. but the silence dragged on.

one night, you opened your messages to see two unread texts. one from caleb. one from zayne. both were apology messages from the kiss that happened between the three of you. you read them both in the dim glow of your bedroom, but you didn’t reply. not because you didn’t want to, but because you didn’t know how.

you started to notice it in the small things first. the way caleb would be walking down the hall with his teammates and suddenly glance the other way when he saw you approaching. the way zayne, who used to brush his shoulder against yours in crowded corridors just for the excuse to say something dumb under his breath, now passed by like you were a stranger in a crowd.

they didn’t talk to you. they didn’t even look at you.

at first, you tried not to let it bother you. maybe they were just giving you space. maybe they were waiting for you to say something first. but then the days stretched on. and the silence felt less like patience and more like avoidance.

and it stung. more than you wanted to admit. because they were the ones who crossed the line. they were the ones who leaned in first, who kissed you, who said things with their eyes they couldn’t take back. so why were you the one left behind?

you were twenty-one now.

a different kind of grown-up, one with a job to keep, bills to pay, and a life that had settled into its own rhythm. it wasn’t the one you imagined back when you were sixteen, wide-eyed and fumbling through emotions too big for your chest. but it was stable and manageable.

still, in quiet moments, in the pause between your third sip of coffee and your laptop screen flickering awake, they crossed your mind.

caleb and zayne.

they’d both gone abroad. scholarships, dreams, ambitions you always knew were bigger than the small town you all came from.you weren’t surprised. they were always meant for more.

sometimes, you’d get a text. zayne asking if your mom’s garden was still alive, or caleb forwarding a photo of an old arcade machine you all used to fight over.

but it was always brief and distant. like you were all just family friends now, tethered only by history.

you had tried to date other people, and though some were sweet, others were exciting, none of them ever made you feel the way you did at seventeen, sitting between two boys who once made you believe the world could burn just from how close they stood to you.

no one ever matched the heat of caleb’s teasing gaze or the weight of zayne’s quiet stares.

no one ever made your heart stutter the way it did when they asked who’s the better kisser? as if the question wasn’t going to ruin you all.

and maybe that’s why you were still alone now. not because you couldn’t love, but because you knew what it felt like to be loved too much, too young, and all at once.

you wondered if they ever thought about it too. about you. about what the three of you were before the silence set in.

you were slicing carrots when your mother told you, half-casually, like it was nothing,

"zayne and caleb are flying home tomorrow. their families are throwing a welcome party."

you blinked, the knife pausing mid-air.

"they're… coming back?"

"mm-hm," she said, too focused on kneading dough to notice the way your breath hitched. "i already told them you'd cook something for the welcome table. they’re expecting your lasagna. and maybe that buttered chicken too. you know, your usual."

your usual. the one you used to cook for them.

you didn’t argue. instead, you found yourself in the kitchen the next day, apron on, ingredients lined up like a ritual. your hands moved on instinct, muscle memory from years of doing this for them. back when dinners were chaotic and filled with dumb jokes, competitive card games, and stolen glances over the rim of your glass.

you stirred the sauce and kept your focus low, trying not to think about it. trying not to count how long it had been since you saw their faces in person. how long since zayne last ruffled your hair like he used to, or caleb leaned over too close, grinning like he knew what you were thinking.

then the front door creaked open.

and you listened to the way laughter spilled in, the way the families greeted in unison to welcome them back. and you hear caleb's laughter, which made you stop on your tracks. it was much more manly now.

from the kitchen, you stayed half-hidden behind the archway. wooden spoon in hand, apron dusted with flour and sauce. you were supposed to be checking the oven, maybe chopping the rest of the bell peppers, but instead you stood frozen in place, eyes locked on the scene unfolding in the living room.

caleb was laughing, his voice louder than the rest, ruffling zayne’s little brother’s hair like he never left, then turning to dab up with one of the uncles who slapped his back in greeting. his presence was loud and unmistakably him. maybe it was the colonel uniform hugging his frame, the silver necklace glinting against his chest, the way he carried himself with that trained, effortless authority. god, he looked good.

your gaze shifted.

zayne was across the room, kneeling beside your grandmother’s seat, speaking with her in that quiet, earnest tone that made people naturally lean closer. his white coat was unbuttoned, sleeves rolled up just slightly, and even from where you stood, you could tell that he’d grown into his face. sharper jaw, broader shoulders. handsome in a way that made your heart fumble a little too hard in your chest.

and then, his eyes lifted, before finding you.

you quickly looked away, busying yourself with the spoon in your hand, stirring nothing in a pot that didn’t even need it.

because you couldn’t trust your face to not show how you were suddenly burning.

after a few more minutes of pretending not to notice them and pretending even harder not to feel anything, you set down the final dish. a hearty beef stew still steaming from the pot. wiping your hands on your apron, you called out, “alright, last dish is ready!”

the room erupted in cheers, your aunts already passing out utensils and your cousins hollering your name like you were some celebrity chef. you smiled sheepishly, bowing a little as people complimented the spread. you took your usual seat beside your mom, grateful for the buffer of familiar comfort. but just as you picked up your fork, your mom stood to help grandma to the buffet.

before you could blink, caleb slid into the now-empty seat beside you.

and then zayne, wordless and quiet as ever, took the one on the other side.

you froze, eyes locked on your plate, heart thudding at the proximity of two very specific colognes, both achingly familiar.

for a moment, none of you said anything.

so, just for politeness, and maybe survival, you cleared your throat and forced a small smile. “…hey, you two.” you didn’t dare look at them directly, not yet.

but you heard the shift in caleb’s posture, the way his voice dipped low in that teasing lilt. “hey, pipsqueak.”

and zayne, ever so composed, “it’s been a while.”

yeah. it really, really has.

your fork paused mid-air when one of your aunts leaned forward, glass of wine in hand, “so, caleb. zayne. any girlfriends yet?”

you could’ve sworn the air thinned.

caleb chuckled, low and smooth, leaning back with one arm draped lazily over his chair. “nah. no one’s been able to handle me long-term.” he winked, and the table erupted in laughter. you could feel your shoulders stiffen.

zayne, gave a polite smile and shook his head. “i’ve been too focused on med school to even think about dating.”

“come on,” another aunt chimed in. “not even one? you boys are too good-looking to still be single.”

you didn’t mean to look, but your eyes flicked between them. caleb's smirk was still present, but his gaze, barely, shifted toward you. zayne remained calm, though you caught the way his thumb tapped anxiously against his water glass.

they didn’t answer further. and yet somehow, the silence that followed was louder than the laughter before it.

you were halfway through slicing a piece of roast when caleb, ever the instigator, tilted his head in your direction with a sly grin. “actually,” he said, voice loud enough to slice through the other conversations, “has anyone asked her if she’s got a boyfriend yet?”

you froze, your fork hovering awkwardly in the air. all eyes turned toward you, some playful, some genuinely curious. you forced a smile, trying not to glance at your mom’s reaction or the sparkle of amusement in caleb’s eyes.

“what?” you tried to play dumb, a breathy laugh escaping you. “no one asked.”

“then let me be the first,” he said, folding his arms as he leaned in with mock sincerity. “so? got anyone these days, pipsqueak?”

your throat went dry. you didn’t want to look, but you felt zayne’s gaze like a weight. when you finally dared to glance his way, his brows were relaxed, but he was a bit too focused on you, in an expectant way.

“no,” you answered softly, clearing your throat. “no one serious.”

caleb raised an eyebrow. “so there was someone not serious, huh?”

“guys—” you laughed awkwardly, ducking your head. “can we not?”

you slipped away from the noise the moment no one was looking, carrying the weight of too many glances and questions that clung to you like static. your mom had insisted on washing the dishes herself, brushing you off with a soft smile and a quick, “go rest, you’ve done enough.” so you did.

you took the stairs slowly, the sounds of laughter and familiar music growing fainter with each step. it should’ve felt comforting. but instead, it left a strange hollow space in your chest.

when you reached your room, you didn’t even bother turning on the light. you closed the door gently, then leaned your back against it for a second, just breathing.

then, with a quiet sigh, you crossed the room and sat at the edge of your bed. you stared down at your hands, still smelling faintly of garlic and oil. you tried to focus on that instead of the dinner table. instead of the way both zayne and caleb had looked at you.

your phone buzzed beside you.

you cracked one eye open and reached for it lazily, expecting a family group chat meme or your mom asking if you wanted dessert. instead, it was from caleb.

“come outside.”

you stared at the text for a moment, your thumb hovering. no punctuatio and no context? classic caleb. it made your heart twist in a way you hated still felt familiar.

you sat up, hesitated. but curiosity got the better of you.

you padded down the hallway quietly, slipping past the laughter and the glow of the living room lights. then, you stepped out the front door.

there they were. caleb was in his uniform jacket, arms crossed, looking off into the distance until he noticed you. zayne had his hands in his coat pockets, gaze already fixed on you as if he'd been waiting longer than caleb had texted.

you raised a brow. “what’s this?”

caleb gave a crooked grin. “we’re going to the moth house.”

zayne nodded. “thought we’d check if it’s still alive. it's not so far from here, isn't it?”

the words made something warm stir in your chest. that old place where you'd all sneak off to and swear eternal friendship over moth-eaten pillows and muddy sneakers. a piece of your childhood that still breathed somewhere in the outskirts of this town.

you blinked, then smiled. “seriously?”

“come on,” caleb said, already walking ahead. “you’re not gonna chicken out, are you?”

you rolled your eyes, but your feet moved before you could stop them. “you’re both still idiots,” you mumbled, but you were already smiling too wide.

you ended up running.

it started with caleb nudging you with his shoulder and saying, “last one is a rotten egg,” before sprinting down the familiar dirt path. zayne let out a breath of disbelief—“seriously?”—but took off right after. and you, despite your protests, despite your boots not being made for this, ran too.

just like you used to.

your laughter echoed through the night, tangled with the sound of crunching leaves and pounding footsteps, breathless and utterly alive.

the moth house sat tucked behind the trees, barely visible until you were almost in front of it. a small, forgotten wooden thing, its paint chipped and its roof a little more caved in than you remembered. but the moment you saw it, your breath caught.

it hadn’t changed.

caleb reached it first, pushing the creaky door open. zayne followed, and you arrived last, panting, eyes wide, something nostalgic and aching blooming in your chest.

“still standing,” caleb muttered, stepping inside.

“barely,” zayne added.

it was pitch black inside. the smell of damp wood and dust clung to the air. and then, in true zayne fashion, had been bringing a lamp all along. warm yellow light spilled across the floor and the walls.

you let out a soft gasp. there they were.

the remnants of your old world.

your pink barbie doll, hair tangled and limbs askew, sat against the wall. beside her was one of caleb’s beat-up toy cars, the wheels long gone but the lightning bolt sticker still scratched onto the side. and scattered near the corner, a few torn pages from zayne’s dinosaur encyclopedia, edges curled with time.

“this is insane,” you whispered, stepping further in. “i thought all of this would be gone.”

“guess we left more than we thought,” zayne said quietly.

caleb crouched down near his old toy car, brushing dust off it with the edge of his sleeve. “feels like we were just here last summer, huh?”

you leaned against the wooden wall, the lamp's dim glow casting soft shadows across their faces as they talked. caleb was squatting again, fiddling with his old toy car like it still mattered. zayne had his arms crossed, leaning on the opposite wall, the corners of his mouth occasionally twitching up in amusement at something caleb said.

they weren’t arguing. they weren’t bickering as always like before. they were just… talking.

you watched them like you were outside a glass window, nose pressed to the surface. both of them had become striking in their own way.

you felt your chest tighten. your gaze dropped to the floor, your heart started to pace without permission. because no matter how much older you were now, no matter how long it had been… your mind drifted. to that night. to that stupid kiss.

you hadn’t thought about it in years. or maybe you had, just not out loud. not where it could reach the surface. but here, in the moth house, surrounded by remnants of childhood and all the things you used to be, the memory pulsed.

was it supposed to be forgotten?

just one of those reckless, messy things you all agreed to pretend didn’t happen?

because you never talked about it after.

never got the answer to the question they’d both pushed into the air. and yet here you all were. again. so why did it still feel unfinished?

"i have the answer already." your voice cut through the soft crackle of the old lamp, quiet but clear enough to make them stop mid-conversation. caleb froze, halfway through repositioning the toy car on the floor, while zayne’s head turned slowly, brows knitting with confusion.

“what?” caleb asked, blinking up at you.

you swallowed, suddenly aware of how loud your heartbeat was. then, you looked down, and then back up, steadying yourself. “the... ‘who’s the better kisser’ thing,” you clarified, and your voice, though small, left no room for misunderstanding.

and just like that, stillness came.

zayne’s expression didn’t change at first, he just stood straighter. then you noticed the subtle shift in his eyes, locked onto you like he was trying to pick apart your thoughts, decode every layer behind your words.

caleb didn’t even try to hide his reaction. he blinked once, twice, before sitting back on his heels and leaning forward slightly, as if you’d just challenged him to a match. his smirk didn’t appear, but the intensity behind his stare said enough.

they were both looking at you now. hard.

not with confusion anymore.

no. this was something heavier. like possession. like the past had suddenly started breathing again, crawling back to life.

neither of them said a word yet. but you could tell that they wanted to know, and they weren’t planning on letting it go. not this time.

"so..." caleb finally said. "who is it?"

and zayne’s gaze didn’t waver.

"you're both good kissers!" the words left your lips before you could take them back. a soft, honest confession. you didn’t even say it to provoke. you just... told the truth.

silence followed.

caleb blinked at you, wide-eyed for a second. and then, he huffed out a breath, the corner of his mouth twitching upward. a short, breathy laugh slipped from him, like he couldn’t believe what he just heard. “silly girl.” he muttered, running a hand through his hair, clearly trying to keep himself from grinning too much.

zayne didn’t laugh. he just looked down, hands shoved in the pockets of his coat. you watched his lashes lower, his brows pinch, his lips pressed tight like he was trying to suppress something. either a sigh, a thought, or the quiet bruising of his own pride.

no one spoke for a while.

it was almost funny. you’d answered the question they left behind all those years ago. and yet, here they were... grown, taller, stronger, and still just as thrown off by you.

caleb scoffed, shaking his head. “nah, i’m gonna have to disagree with that.”

you looked up at him, blinking. “what—?”

he crossed his arms, gaze narrowed but playful. “you just said that to keep the peace. i call it. no way we were equally good..”

zayne, who’d remained quiet until now, finally lifted his eyes again. boldness, maybe. “he might have a point,” zayne said. “we were teenagers then, and inexperienced. it wasn’t exactly a fair measure.”

you turned to him, startled.

he glanced at caleb, then back at you. “for a real answer, there should be a reevaluation.” he said it plainly, but the weight behind it made your stomach twist.

caleb raised his brows, looking half-impressed and half-annoyed. “oh? you serious, doc?”

“just being thorough,”

your throat went dry. you suddenly weren’t sure if coming to the moth house was such a good idea after all.

you tilted your head slightly, “so… are you saying you have experience now?”

zayne’s lips tugged upward, just a little. “no,” he admitted, stepping forward, slow and sure. “not exactly.” his eyes didn’t leave yours. you could hear caleb shift behind zayne, but he didn’t say a word. he was just watching, waiting.

zayne stopped just a breath away, “do you want to try it again?”

your heart thudded. too fast. too loud. this was real. this was now. and caleb… caleb still hadn’t moved. but you could feel the heat of his stare burning right through you.

before you could even open your mouth to respond, before you could decide what you wanted, zayne muttered a soft curse under his breath. something like “fuck it,” barely audible. then, in one motion, he removed his glasses, carelessly tucking them into his coat pocket, and closed the distance.

his hands were warm when they cupped your cheeks, surprisingly gentle for how impulsive the gesture was. and then, he kissed you.

it was rushed, but deliberate. like he wanted to make sure you felt it, all of it. your fingers twitched at your sides as your eyes fluttered shut, your thoughts melting into the warmth of it.

zayne only pulled away when he had to, just enough to study your expression, forehead still resting against yours. “are you still unsure?”

“n-no,” you barely managed to whisper, your voice caught between your breath and whatever was thundering in your chest.

but that was all zayne needed before he kissed you again. this time, deeper. his hands slipped back to cradle the base of your head as if he didn’t want you pulling away. there was a quiet intensity in the way he moved, like he was making up for lost time, or maybe staking a claim.

you didn’t even notice your hand gripping the front of his coat until your knuckles tightened. everything else blurred out, the creaking of the old moth house, the muffled breath you both shared, even caleb’s presence—

until caleb shifted slightly.

you felt it, a presence behind you.

before you could even react, a pair of lips brushed your shoulder. and a slow burn followed the touch, trailing through the fabric of your shirt like it wasn't even there.

your breath hitched. “caleb…” you whispered, unsure if it was a question or a warning.

“pipsqueak,” he said lowly, voice husky and calm, as if this had always been part of the plan. “we're so sorry.”

as you turned to face caleb, his hand on your hip tightened slightly, pulling you ever so gently but insistently closer. you could feel the heat of his body, the firmness of his chest pressing against your back while he leaned in. you shuddered.

zayne, not to be outdone or left behind, leaned in to capture your lips once more in a searing kiss. one hand slid up to tangle in your hair, tilting your head to grant him better access as his mouth moved over yours with a hunger that stole your breath away.

you found yourself sandwiched between them, the solid wall of caleb's chest at your back and the lean, muscular frame of zayne pressed against your front. you could feel every inch of their bodies, the hard planes and soft curves melding together in a way that set their nerves alight with sensation.

zayne's hand fisted in your hair as he kissed you with a desperate, almost punishing intensity. he tore his mouth away, panting harshly against your lips. "this is dangerous," he rasped, his voice strained with barely restrained desire. "i might end up doing something else if we keep this up." his eyes searched yours.

and behind you, caleb pressed closer, the hard ridge of his arousal grinding against the curve of your ass through the fabric of his pants. "mm, should we stop?" he murmured, but his actions belied his words as he nuzzled into the crook of your neck, his lips and teeth and tongue busy mapping the sensitive skin there. 

you were already losing yourself, drowning in the feeling of your two childhood friends. and god help you because you don't ever want to be found.

caleb paused, his hand stilling on the soft curve of your shoulder as he looked to you with a mix of desire and hesitation in his eyes. "is it okay if we touch you more?" he asked, almost pleading like an eager puppy seeking permission.

"where?" you breathed, the single word a question and an invitation all at once.

"here," caleb murmured, his thumb and forefinger pinching and rolling your stiffening nipple through the thin fabric of your shirt.

at the same moment, zayne's hands slid down from your hips, hesitating for a heartbeat before cupping the rounded globes of your ass. he squeezed gently, his fingers sinking into the soft flesh as he pulled you back against him, grinding his hard length against the cleft of your rear.

"and here," zayne whispered.

your moans filled the moth house as memories of simpler times flashed through your mind. you remembered chasing after zayne and caleb in the sunlit yard, their laughter echoing while playing tag, innocent and carefree as ever. how naive the three of you had been, unaware of the seeds of desire that had already been planted, the embers of attraction smoldering beneath the surface of your childhood bond. little had you known that years later, those innocent games would evolve into this - the feeling of caleb's fingers boldly cupping your clothed sex, the heat of his touch searing you even through the fabric of your panties.

"oh!" you gasped, your hips bucking instinctively into his hand. it seems as though the past and present blurred, the ghosts of your youth intertwining with the raw, carnal hunger of the moment.

zayne's hands kneaded the globes of your ass, his grip tightening when he felt you respond to caleb's touch. "fuck," he rasped, his voice strained with the effort of holding back, from not simply taking you right then and there. "you have no idea how long we've wanted this, wanted you."

"zayne..." you whispered. for someone who'd been protective of you, who'd been the most conservative than any other man, he acted like the opposite of what you've deemed him as in your entire childhood.

and behind you, the boy who had your back the most, the boy who jumped into any risky scheme with you, had his fingers rubbing and circling your clothed slit with a newfound confidence, a pent-up urgency that spoke volumes about the years of longing he had harbored for you.

then, the haze of lust momentarily lifted by the sound of caleb's grunt of discomfort. "it hurts." you turned to look at him, concern etching in your flushed face. for a second, you let go of zayne's shoulders and followed caleb's line of sight. to his... prominent bulge straining against the front of his pants.

instantly, you averted your eyes. "okay, maybe- maybe this wasn't a good idea after all—"

"mine too." zayne spoke up, just right behind your ear. "it's a natural reaction, especially when we're this close to you—"

"of course, i know that, idiot!" you whisper-screamed, backing off a bit to give yourself some personal space for a few moments. you gulped, "do we know what we're getting into? ...what if our families find out about this?"

"we aren't telling them, are we?" caleb said, already working on undoing the buttons of his top.

"yes, but," you paused, trying to gather your thoughts, because the words for what they were haven't formed yet. only now you've realized the severity of what you were up to, the hypocrisy of everything that have led you to this. you looked up, only to see both guys giving you curious gazes, with half-lidded eyes. "i've... always seen the two of you- as my brothers."

"bro...thers?"

"do you still see us that way?" zayne's voice made you stare at them. he stood with his glasses now forgotten in his pocket, dark hair tousled from the boldness had taken over him earlier. the white coat was long gone, he probably already took it off while you made out, and all that remained was the black shirt beneath, sleeves messily rolled up to his forearms, revealing veins and tendons you’d never once paid attention to when you were kids. the dip of his collarbone peeked out just above the neckline, and his chest rose and fell with a tension he didn’t bother hiding.

and caleb with the top buttons of his shirt undone, his collar skewed, sleeves rolled, forearms lean and marked with a few cuts and scratches. the light caught on the curve of his throat, the slight sheen on his skin, and the faint scar on his wrist from the time he tried to teach you how to climb the mango tree. his hair was a little messy too, a little too perfect in its imperfection, like he had run his fingers through it on the way here.

you didn't know when or how it happened. only that that was all it took for the three of you to get lost further.

you glanced down at your hand full of white liquid, some were also dripping down your chin you could feel. it's an uncomfortable position to be kneeling against the dirty ground for half an hour already, but that was irrelevant compared to the amount of cum that was spilled into your chest, into your face, and into your mouth.

you chased your breath, staring up at zayne and caleb in pure bliss. they sat next to each other on a wooden ledge, both chasing theirs too. zayne had his head rolled back that you could see the way his adam's apple occassionally bobbed, while caleb have had kept his eyes on you the whole time you sucked him and jacked the other guy off.

caleb wipes the bead of cum off the corner of your mouth with his finger. "are you tired?"

you shake your head. "no, i wanna keep..." you bring the finger in your mouth, licking it with your tongue.

in response, caleb slightly widens his eyes at your sudden action, but he enjoys it. he always enjoyed when you did something he wouldn't expect. he pulls his finger out of your mouth, and you whine, but he slides it down your chin, gliding it across your clothed chest, and down your stomach. until he leaned down to touch your pussy.

you squeaked, "caleb?"

"you like being touched like this?" he teased your clit.

then, you felt another finger pinch your nipple through the fabric. "i reckon she likes this more." you turn to look at zayne, who's staring hard into your eyes. he had his glasses back on. he always did around you ever since you've mentioned about how it looked good on him. so while your mouth got stuffed in his cock earlier, with his fingers on your head, his other hand made an effort to put the glasses back on with a "look at me."

you squirmed at both men's work, eyes fluttering shut to back. they watched you curiously, until caleb's finger shot itself inside. deep inside. "pipsqueak," he gives you that look again. that look he does when he's being vulnerable. "you're so fucking tight."

zayne shot caleb a glance, intrigued. but he was silent.

caleb licks his lower lip, "can i... can we,"

zayne looks at you.

"can we check how tight it is?"

"what do you mean?" you asked, trying to speak coherently even through a moan. "y-you already are....?"

caleb pulls away, leaning back. zayne does the same. they didn't say anything, they didn't answer your question, so you were just there, clueless. still kneeling. then, your eyes shifted to their throbbing, erected dicks. like both were waiting for you, were waiting to be inside you.

now you know what they meant.

but you couldn't believe it.

back then, in this same moth house, you used to count the moths up the ceiling, laying on each other's shoulders as innocent kids. now, the same men were asking you to get on them. with the same eyes that smiled at you across the field, running and giggling.

[makeyuomine]

everybody's lover

Summary: He always comes back. After every tour, every tabloid headline, every other girl—Harry always finds his way back to your doorstep. Will this night be the same?

Type: Blurb

Author’s Note: Hiiii! A few of you have been requesting to be added to my tag list. I’m going to be so honest with yall, I don’t have one and IDK how to make one?! Can someone please help/DM I’d really appreciate it!!

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Harry’s the kind of man who makes you feel like you’re the only girl in the room—until he leaves and proves you weren’t.

It's so easy for him.

The way he walks into a room like it belongs to him, the way strangers lean in just to hear him laugh. He is the kind of beautiful that doesn't try too hard, and the kind you don't forget.

Harry had just completed his European leg of the tour, fresh off the success of his fourth album. Although he wanted me to tag along for this half of the tour, I couldn't join. So I received most of my news of him via social media, like everybody else. So when the tabloids started posting photos of him with different women across Europe, I wasn’t surprised. I’d almost seen it coming. He did this every tour.

Somehow, he always found a way to pull me back in—soft words, tender promises, the kind that made you believe them without question.

He had a way of looking at me that made it feel like we were the only two people in the world, like we belonged to each other and no one else. And for a while, we really were. During his hiatus, when the world wasn’t pulling him in a thousand directions, we carved out something real.

"I miss you."

"Tour isn't the same without you."

"Baby, I need you."

He always knew just what to say during our regular calls—calm, reassuring, like nothing had changed. And I believed him. Because more than anything, I loved him—and he knew that. He held onto me just tightly enough to keep me there, using up every bit of my love until I was drained. As long as he got what he needed, that was enough for him.

Now that he was home on a break, the calls wouldn’t stop. Morning, night, in between—his name lighting up my screen like it never left. At first, I ignored them. I had to. I knew how this story went. But he was persistent, like always, wearing me down with sweet words and half-truths wrapped in that voice I could never fully shut out.

And then he showed up—unannounced, like he had every right to. Standing at my door with that look in his eyes, the one that always made my resolve slip.

There he was—tall, golden, eyes softer than they had any right to be. Like he wasn’t the one who left me behind. Like he hadn’t broken me again.

“You shouldn’t be here,” I said, but it came out cracked. My voice betrayed me before I could find my anger.

He stepped forward. “I had to see you.”

That was all it took. The dam burst.

“You’re a liar,” I snapped, shoving at his chest with both hands. “A liar and a fucking cheater—”

He didn’t flinch. He just let me hit him, barely moving as my fists landed weakly against him.

“You told me I was the only one—every time, you say that—and then I have to see you in someone else’s bed halfway across the world like I don’t exist!”

Tears blurred my vision, hot and unrelenting, and I kept pushing him even as my strength gave out. “You use me. You always use me.”

That’s when he caught my wrists—not hard, not rough. Just enough to stop me, to still me. His fingers curled around mine with infuriating gentleness.

I broke then, the fight falling out of me as sobs racked through my chest. And he pulled me into him like nothing had changed, like he had every right to hold me together when he was the one who tore me apart.

For a moment, I let myself melt into him. Just a moment.

His hand moved up to the back of my head, cradling it gently as I cried into his chest. He whispered something soft I couldn’t make out, but it didn’t matter. I knew the script. I knew where this would lead.

And still, for a few seconds, I let him hold me. Because it was easier than facing the truth. Easier than admitting I still wanted to believe him.

But then I felt it—the ache shifting into something sharper. My body remembered the nights I stared at my phone, waiting. The mornings I saw his face next to someone else’s in headlines. The way he always came back like nothing had happened.

I pulled back suddenly, shoving against his chest.

“Don’t,” I said, my voice low but shaking with fury. “Don’t fucking touch me.”

His brows drew together, but I didn’t let him speak.

“You think you can just show up and hold me for a few seconds and everything goes away?” I wiped at my cheeks angrily. “You lied to me. You made me feel like I was the only one, like I mattered."

He opened his mouth, but I cut him off again. “No. I hate you, Harry. I hate you for making me love you like this.”

My voice broke, but I stood my ground. “Get out. Get out of my apartment. Now.”

He stared at me, eyes searching mine for a sliver of softness. But I had none left to give.

He didn’t move.

I stood there, fists clenched, chest heaving, waiting for him to walk out like he always did. But this time, he didn’t.

“No,” he said quietly.

I blinked. “What?”

“I’m not leaving,” he repeated, stronger this time. “Not this time.”

My heart pounded in my ears. “Harry—”

“I thought about you every single time,” he said, stepping toward me, his voice shaking. “Every time I was with someone else, I saw your face. Every kiss, every empty night, I thought about you. And I hated myself for it. I need you.”

His words hung in the air like a storm waiting to break.

My lips trembled, fury and heartbreak tangled in my throat.

“You need me?” I snapped. “You need me—but you sleep with women whose names you don’t even remember? You flirt with the world and then come running back here like I’m your shelter?”

His eyes flickered with pain, but I didn’t stop.

“I’m yours, Harry,” I whispered. “God, I’ve always been yours. But you… you’re everybody’s. You give pieces of yourself away like it means nothing. Like I mean nothing.”

He took another step toward me, slowly, like I might shatter. “It wasn’t nothing,” he said. “None of it was ever nothing. I was just—lost.”

He flinched. Just barely. But I saw it.

“You don’t get to stand here and act like you’re some heartbroken romantic who just made a mistake,” I snapped, stepping forward. “You knew what you were doing. Every night. Every kiss. Every photo. You knew it would hurt me.”

“I did,” he said quickly, almost desperate now. “I knew it and I hated it. I hated myself for it. Every time I touched someone else, I wanted it to be you. I’d close my eyes and pretend it was you. That it was your skin, your voice, your mouth…”

I shook my head, trying to block him out, but he kept going.

His voice cracked, full of something between apology and pleading. “I don’t want anyone else. I never did—not really. It was always you.”

I felt the tears welling up again. I shut my eyes.

He stepped closer, I could hear it. I didn't stop him. I felt so overwhelmed in this self-deprecating pit.

His arms wrapped around me, pulling me in again.

My forehead pressed against his chest, and I let out a soft breath, almost a sigh of surrender. He kissed the top of my head, eyes closed, holding me.

“I’m sorry,” he murmured over and over.

I look up. His hands moved with that familiar ease, tracing the curve of my back. The way he looked at me made my pulse quicken, and for a moment, I almost forgot all the promises he’d broken.

I looked at him standing there—the same boy who had broken me, held me, and broken me again. My chest tightened, the fight and the love tangled so deep it hurt to breathe.

“I’m done,” I said finally, voice steady but soft. “Done with the waiting. Done with the lies. Done with being nobody's when I wanted to be just yours.”

His eyes searched mine, dark and pleading. For a second, I thought he might say something to change my mind.

But I wasn’t here to change it. I was here for one last thing.

I looked up at him, my voice trembling but fierce. “I want you to fuck me,” I said, barely able to hold back the tears pooling in my eyes. I could hear myself sniffle, the raw ache in my chest breaking through the walls I’d built, but I meant every word.

His eyes darkened with a mix of hunger and something softer, almost regret. He didn’t say a word, just closed the distance between us like he needed this as much as I did.

His hands were rough and sure, sliding over my skin with a desperate tenderness that made me shiver. Every touch was electric, igniting all the places that had gone numb. I could feel the tension between us—the ache of all the broken promises, the fire of every stolen moment—wrapping tight around us.

When his lips found mine, it wasn’t gentle. It was fierce, demanding, as if trying to burn away the past and leave only this moment. I clung to him, biting back a sob as his hands roamed like he was memorizing every curve.

The way he groaned low in his throat, the way his breath hitched as he pressed into me, it drove me crazy. I found myself moaning right back at him, unable to hold back, caught up in the storm of sensation and emotion crashing between us.

It was messy and fierce and perfect in all the ways a goodbye should never be. The heat of his hands, the roughness of his kisses, the way his body moved with mine—it was almost too sexy, too raw, for a goodbye.

This was breakup sex—full of anger and longing and everything we couldn’t say out loud.

We moved together with a frantic urgency, a wild, aching need that felt like both punishment and salvation. I let go of the fight inside me, letting the rawness of his touch pull me under, even though I knew it would break me all over again.

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