#Gege always surprises me | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

starpens · 3 months ago

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CRASH COURSE ﾉ xia caleb x female reader ៹ explicit content, unprotected sex, virginity loss, mentions of cheating (none actually happens), pet names (pipsqueak (sorry but i have to be accurate) gege, good girl), instructional sex, blowjobs, creampie, idk what this is i wrote it in 5 seconds i just needed an excuse to write caleb, not proofread :( ˓˓ WORD COUNT ᨀ 4.9k !

asking the boy you’ve known nearly your entire life to teach you how to have sex isn’t weird, right...? right?

caleb has taught you a lot of things over the years.

he taught you how to drive a car in the shopping mall’s parking lot, how to cheat at card games, how to avoid burning the house down by letting him cook for you instead, how to sneak underneath the turnstiles on the subway to avoid fees.

he’s reliable and sturdy and a little reckless, but also patient and nonjudgmental— creating the idea in your idea that he’s kind of all-knowing, that whenever you don’t know something caleb does, that whenever you need help, you turn to no one else but him. which is precisely why you’re standing outside the door of his bedroom right now, hand lifted to knock on it.

because surely, asking caleb to teach you how to give a blowjob falls somewhere underneath that category too, right?

it’s one of those rare moments when the two of you are off work at the same time. caleb, on annual leave for the next two weeks and you, taking out a handful of unused vacation days to spend time with your favorite person in the world. it’s like old times again, when you can simply walk down the hall and hear his laugh drifting from underneath the door as he plays some stupid video game with college buddies.

thinking of the old days is exactly why you’re hesitating at the door. there’s too much shared history between the two of you, too much to lose if this goes badly, if you’ve been reading him wrong all along and he doesn’t want the same thing. there’s no way you can march in there and ask the boy you were raised with teach you how to—

“door’s open, pipsqueak,” caleb calls, somehow knowing you’re there because of course he does. you used to complain that he must’ve secretly implanted a tracker in your arm because he always knows your whereabouts, which made games like hide and seek with him impossible.

knowing it’s too late to play it off, you walk inside his room, greeted by his devastatingly gorgeous grin. “hey, you. lemme guess— the fridge is empty? no? lightbulb in your room need changing again? huh… or did you just miss me?”

“uh,” you mumble, shifting your toes in the soft carpet of the rug in the middle of his room. “not exactly. i was just wondering if you had time to talk and— … you’re not wearing a shirt.”

you realize how dumb you sound as you point it out, it’s just that your brain short-circuits, turning into a syrupy mess at the sight of caleb without a shirt on, his dog tags resting against bare skin. you’ve seen him like this before, of course— but not since he up and left, gallivanting off into the world to become a hotshot military pilot.

he’s always been nice to look at when you think he isn’t paying attention, but god he’s pretty. your eyes blink almost in disbelief as you take in his broad, muscular form that did not exist while he was a cadet in basic training. your gaze can’t help but snag on the ripple of his abs, or the thatch of brown hair trailing from his navel to disappear beneath his gray sweats. he swivels in his stupid gaming chair, smiling at you with his stupid face—

“uh, yeah?” caleb laughs, forehead creasing in confusion like you shouldn’t be surprised and really, you shouldn’t. caleb is like a furnace, blood running hot even in the middle of winter. “gran’s got the heat turned up to max again. it’s like she wants to kill me.”

“yeah, right,” you shake your head, laughing skittishly. “sorry. i’ve got a fan you can borrow, if you want.”

“thanks,” he says, magenta eyes dragging over your form suspiciously, taking in the way you’re standing in the middle of his room fidgeting like a leaf in the wind, hands white-knuckling the hem of the oversized shirt you’re wearing, knees knocking together all nervous and cute. he frowns, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees to give you his full attention in that heart-stuttering way he often does.

“what’s with you? not that i’m not glad to see you, but… did something happen? did someone do something to you?”

“no, no— nothing like that,” you hurry to reassure, voice cracking on the last word as your cheeks begin to burn in embarrassment, trying to find the words to say what you need to without crashing and burning. swallowing around a lump in your throat, you glance at the paused screen of caleb’s game before blurting out—

“can you teach me how to give a blowjob?”

caleb immediately chokes.

a lesson on what not to do.

the overclocked fans on caleb’s gaming rig whirs in a soft hum, the neon lights in his room flickering crimson streaks over his handsome face in the dark. he wonders if it’s post traumatic stress or prolonged exposure to cosmic radiation in the sky forcing him to hallucinate. obviously, he’s got too many marbles in one jar and not enough in the other because there is no way he’s heard you correctly.

slowly, he removes his headset. “come again?”

“i’m awful at it, ge,” you exclaim, throwing your hands up in exasperation. in fact, you don’t know if you’re awful at it or not because you’ve never tried. you’ve been too busy waiting on the man in front of you to stop torturing you both, but caleb doesn’t need to know that. “you see, i’m dating this guy, right? and we’ve been hitting it off well. i can tell he wants to take it to the next level, but i’ve never… and you— you’re good at everything, so i just thought…”

“thought i would give you lessons,” he finishes for you, his voice deepening to a rougher edge that makes you shiver. “so you can suck your boyfriend better. do i have it right?”

“y-yeah…”

“since when do you even have a boyfriend? you didn’t tell me anything,” he says, doing nothing to mask the disappointment in his voice.

“uh, we’ve… been seeing each other for a couple of weeks?” you fumble, shifting from foot to foot uncomfortably. “i didn’t want to say anything yet. in case it didn’t work out.”

“so you want to learn how to suck dick for a guy you’ve known for a couple of weeks?” he counters, a muscle in his jaw twitching. he’s got no right to feel jealousy, not when he’s wasted so much time attempting to be one thing in your life when you clearly wanted something else. he’s got no right, but the thought of you on your knees for someone else, someone that isn’t him, makes his blood boil enough that he already knows what his answer will be.

however, you’re already backing up towards the door, about to make a quick retreat. your plan was horrible, shame burning your skin like a brand. “what am i saying? oh my god, you’re right it’s stupid and wrong and gross. can we please just forget i even came in here—”

he lets you ramble for an excruciatingly long time, then he pushes out of his gaming chair and grins down at you like you just asked him to make a quick run to the convenience store. he stretches his arms above his head. “let’s do it.”

“w-what?”

you didn’t expect to get this far, honestly. you expected caleb to laugh at you, ruffle your hair, and call you ridiculous. but instead, he’s already striding to his door, thumb flicking the lock with a decisive click. when he turns, his expression makes your breath hitch— those unusual purple eyes molten, staring straight through you.

“first thing’s first, we need to lay down some ground rules, soldier,” caleb tells you playfully, stepping closer until your breasts brush against his midsection. his hand lifts, tucking a lock of hair behind your ear. “if you need to back out at any moment, you say so. no guy’s pleasure is worth your discomfort. and if i hear his name, whatever it is…” he pauses, eyes narrowing. “this stops. understood?”

you nod eagerly, fighting your smile as his scent envelopes you. he smells like spearmint gum, your shampoo that he’s been stealing since the two of you have been back at the house, and a hint of sweat from the stifling air in the room.

“use your words, pipsqueak.”

“y-yeah, i get it.”

his smirk is all teeth. “good girl.”

caleb guides you over to his bed, sitting down on the edge. his big hands reach for you, circling your hips and pulling you towards him until you’re standing in between his spread thighs.

“alright, my little student,” he jokes. “you wanna get him all riled up before the main event so start with something small like… a kiss,” he murmurs, eyes lifting to glance at your mouth as his finger traces the hinge of your jaw. “you do know how to kiss, don’t you?”

“of course i know how to kiss,” you grumble.

caleb nods and then curls his hand around the nape of your neck, pulling you down to his level. you lean with the pressure, slotting your hands in the junction between his neck and shoulder, sliding them up until you cup the underside of his jaw. then, you’re kissing him— kissing caleb, the boy who used to patch up your scraped knees with cute band-aids, who let you crawl into his bed after nightmares, who pretends he hasn’t thought about kissing you, about making you his, for years.

the kiss is messy, desperate and hungry, decades of pent up feelings behind it. a string of saliva keeps your mouths linked together whenever you pull back for air and when caleb’s tongue swipes across your bottom lip, you whimper and part your lips to let him in, body melting against his front until your weight’s toppling him back onto his elbows, hitching your leg over his waist to crawl on top of him.

his grip on your waist tightens, gently pushing you to stand once more. “this is feeling less like a lesson, and more like you just wanting to do this with me,” he teases, making heat flare across your cheeks.

caleb guides your hand to the waistband of his sweatpants, the heat radiating through the fabric searing your palm. breath hitching, you begin to sink to the floor in front of him but his hand shoots out to stop your descent with a breathy laugh. “no no no, c’mere. you’re gonna hurt your knees down there.”

backing up, he moves until he’s lounging against the headboard, impossibly long legs stretched out on either side of your sweet figure.

“still wanna do this?” he asks, lifting a brow. when you nod, he continues to speak, voice gravelly, “take it out then.”

your fingers fumble with the drawstring a bit, struggling to undo the military knot caleb’s tied there, but you manage eventually. peeling back the waistband of his sweatpants to free his cock.

you should’ve known it would be just as pretty as the rest of him— it’s the biggest one (the only one) you’ve seen in person. he’s thicker than he is long, flushed dusky pink with veins that make your cunt clench with the desperate need to feel them dragging along your inner walls. his adam’s apple bobs as he swallows, watching you reach for it, nearly sobbing when your hand wraps around him.

“fuck—!” his hips jerk and stutter in shock, hand shoving yours away with a quickness. you frown and bite your lip, retracting your grip as if you’ve been burned.

“oh no,” you rush out, moving back to sit on top of your hands like a scolded kindergartener. “did i do something bad? did i hurt you, cal?”

caleb’s chest heaves, breath punching out of his lungs rapidly, eyes squeezed shut as he tries to slow the speed of his heart down. he’s dreamt about you touching him like this for ages, and the image of your dainty hand nervously wrapping around his cock will be seared into his brain for the rest of his life. you crawl back towards him slowly, seriously worried. “caleb?”

“i’m fine, pip,” he sucks in another breath, then opens his eyes to look at you. “didn’t mean to scare you. you didn’t do anything bad, you just surprised me. go ahead, touch me again.”

“if you’re sure,” you mumble, then hesitantly circle your fingers around caleb’s shaft again. he’s ready for it this time, hot against your palm when you give him an experimental squeeze, making caleb hiss through clenched teeth. “how’s that?”

“a bit tighter,” he instructs, palm closing over yours to adjust your grip. you squeeze him tight, and the hitch of his breath makes you squirm, stickiness gathering between your thighs at the sound. “don’t just squeeze, guys like it when you stroke. base to tip— no, don’t yank it like a fucking joystick, pip. god.”

his protest makes you burst out in giggles before caleb is shushing you with a severe look, his purple eyes narrowed. sucking your plump lower lip in between your teeth to keep from smiling, you nod at him with an exaggeratedly focused look.

“wet your palm,” he tells you, rolling his eyes at your wrinkled nose. “getting a handjob from a dry hand hurts, it’s like sandpaper.”

“are you saying i have dry hands, caleb? i moisturize daily, unlike you,” you whine out, but you listen to him anyway— you’re a good student, after all, and you don’t want to do anything that’ll make caleb want to stop. you lick your palm a few times, eyes on caleb the entire time.

the next time you touch him is with a spit-slicked grip, dragging your hand up and down his cock in an inexperienced, sloppy rub that should feel uncomfortable, but caleb eats it up— hips jerking involuntarily, pearls of watery precum already beginning to leak from the slit of his cock. your gaze is transfixed on it, a little greedy too, watching it stain your knuckles with each stroke.

it’s that same greediness that makes you lean down and brush your lips against the head of his cock, cherry tongue lolling out to tentatively taste the salt-bitter precum beading there. caleb’s hips immediately kick upward in a desperate twitch, but he forces them still, knuckles ashen where they reach down to grip the sheets.

“easy,” he rasps, voice fraying at the edges. his thumb strokes your cheek briefly. “just the tip first, okay? don’t go trying to swallow me down or anything.”

you do what he’s taught you so far; flatten your tongue, swirl it around the head— like that, fuck— press it hard against the thick, sensitive vein running along caleb’s underside, then repeat. every time, you’re rewarded with caleb brushing your hair back, murmuring soft praises, or your personal favorite— his deep, almost nasal groan, the hard planes of his abdomen flexing underneath the heady heat of your tongue.

it’s intoxicating, watching him fall apart like this— exactly what you wanted when you walked into his room. you want to pass his class with honors, please him even more, so you drop your mouth open a little more and suck him in deeper.

too deep.

the thick ridge of his head nudges against your uvula, tears springing to your eyes almost immediately. little startled chokes cough from your throat as you pull off caleb’s cock, bands of saliva stringing from his tip to your mouth in a way that should be gross, but you don’t care one bit, too busy trying to catch your breath.

“shh, shh— breathe,” caleb soothes, eyes darkening with something perilously close to reverence and pride. “through your nose, slowly. you can’t force it, that’s why you keep choking. when you’re ready, try again.”

you let caleb thumb away your tears like he’s done countless times before and when you’re ready, when you’ve had enough air to breathe, you let him guide you back onto his damp cock. eager, swollen lips bringing him in against your cheeks in a hot, branding suction that twists his insides up.

he’s supposed to be teaching you, showing you the ropes so you can please your stupid boyfriend, but you barely even need it— god, you’re so good at this without even trying. how can he focus on teaching when he’s got all of his focus pointed towards trying not to shoot his load down the back of your throat like some inconsiderate asshole?

he can barely look down at you because every time he does, your teary eyes glance up at him through thick lashes with an expression that begs for praise. he knows if you didn’t have a mouth stuffed full of his cock, you’d be asking him am i doing it right, ge?

his thighs tremble, eyes lidded as you finally find a steady pace— mouth bobbing up and down, spit bubbling at the base of his cock where you’re starting to make a mess on him.

and when your hands dip down into his sweatpants, cupping his balls in your soft hand, caleb’s vision whites out, his climax rushing to the front at a rapid pace. before he can cum, though, he takes two fingers and pushes at your forehead, hauling you off his cock with a wet slurp. his chest heaves, dripping beads of sweat that glow in the haze of the neon lighting in his room.

he looks wrecked, and you fight your triumphant smile, schooling it into something unsure and pliant, batting your eyelashes. “did i… did i do it wrong?”

“fuck, no,” his chuckle is hoarse and ruined, calloused thumbs swiping spit from your chin as he gazes up at you meaningfully with those hooded eyes. “just don’t wanna cum down your throat.”

“o-oh.”

the implication makes arousal bubble low in your belly, thighs squeezing together in need. caleb tracks the movement, nostrils flaring as he grins knowingly. “yeah, you don’t want that either, do you, pipsqueak?”

for a while, the two of you just stare at each other in disbelief. you don’t know how to tell caleb that you’d take him in any form he’s offering himself in, pining after him long enough that it’s painful. nothing you ever did got his attention, not in the way you truly wanted. he’s protective and possessive in all the right ways, but he’d never make the first move.

he’ll never come out and admit that he wants to spread you out on his bed and fuck you dumb, mark you as his so nobody else can have you. it took you coming to him to even get this far, so you might as well take matters into your own hands once more.

“teach me the rest, ge?”

the rest.

caleb releases a pained groan at your words and you think he’s going to refuse you, but then he’s flipping your positions, pushing you down onto the mattress with ease. he makes quick work of his sweatpants, shoving them down the rest of the way. then, he wrestles your panties off your hips and tosses them somewhere across the room.

“look at you,” he whispers, pushing your shirt up— his cock leaking a bead of precum at the sight of your pretty tits. he reaches forward, toying with your puffy nipples, grinning at the sound of your soft whimper.

“c-caleb.”

“you drive me fuckin’ crazy, you get that?” the confession comes out sounding suspiciously like a whine. he gazes down at you like you’re water and he’s a man lost deep in the desert, dying of thirst. “you’re the prettiest girl in the whole wide world. look at these cute tits, just begging for me to touch them. and—”

his big hands sink into the fleshy part of your upper thighs, opening them to get his first exclusive look at your pussy. his thumb parts your folds, spreading one side apart to watch the way your entrance twitches. caleb dips one finger into your cunt and could fucking cry at how warm and tight you feel. “fuck, you’re so wet. is this all ’cause of me?”

“d-don’t look at it so shamelessly, you pervert,” you scold him, squirming back and forth in his hold as you try to snap your thighs shut. “stop teasing me or i’ll hit you. this is embarrassing!”

“why not?” he tilts his head, giving you that boyish grin that makes your heart stop. “after i’m done with you, it’ll be mine anyway. my pretty pussy. my girl.”

you huff and drive your fist into his shoulder before folding your arms over your breasts, lower lip stuck out in an unhappy pout. caleb winces, though mirth still shines amongst the nebulas in his eyes. he leans down to kiss your pout away, chuckling in amusement. “okay, okay, don’t hurt me. i’ll give you what you want.”

and then, he’s wrapping a hand around the base of himself, kissing your clit with the leaking tip of his cock before rubbing it up and down your slit. he coats himself in your wetness before he finally notches against your entrance and slowly pushes.

the pressure makes air stutter out of your chest, blunt and unyielding. he immediately notices your struggle and drops forward on his elbows, caging you safely in his embrace. he kisses the corners of your eyelids, licking away stray tears.

“i hate hurting you like this,” he whispers in your ear, hips drawing back and crawling forward again. you gasp, eyes falling shut, and he shushes you once more. slides a hand down to play with your clit to distract you, which only makes you clench up around him. his jaw is clenched tight enough to shatter the bone, hand fisted in the sheets next to your head. “shh— relax and let me in. it’ll feel good in a second.”

“i-i don’t know if i can,” you say, trying to force your body to accept him, but when he sinks in those first few inches, you whimper and dig your nails into his biceps. “y-you’re so big, gege.”

“f-fuck, don’t—” caleb grunts and his fingers grip the soft sides of your belly, holding your body to his like a lifeline. “don’t call me that right now. i might cum. i’m gonna put the rest in, okay? be a good girl for me and take it. i-i can’t wait any longer.”

he draws out and presses forward all the way in, burying himself to the hilt inside your sweet pussy. his gaze drops to where you’re split obscenely around him, cunt fluttering in protest at the stretch and a ragged groan tears from his throat. it takes every ounce of willpower the military beat into him not to cream himself right then and there.

“c-caleb!”

you whine as caleb retreats slightly, only to surge back in, fucking a little deeper this time. the weight of his cock stretching you out borders on cruel, but you would die before you ask him to stop, your walls squeezing him in a vice grip. it takes a few trials and errors (“keep your hips down, pipsqueak” and “i don't know, maybe a little to the l— fuck, right there oh my god”) but eventually, caleb builds up a good rhythm, the cool metal of his dog tags pooling in the valley of your breasts as he fucks you with deep, steady strokes; bottoming out each time with a guttural groan.

“fuck— stop clenching so much i’m gonna lose my mind,” his breath scalds your neck, teeth grazing your pulse as he fucks a little faster. “so fucking good. that’s it, baby. you’re doing so good. taking every inch of me like this.”

he’s right, it is so fucking good— no, it’s better. your nails scrape against caleb’s back. shivering at the hot pleasure singeing your nerve endings each time he fucks into you. it doesn’t take long for pressure to gather in your lower belly, a band waiting to snap.

you can’t help but wriggle a hand between the two of your bodies and circle a trembling middle finger around your swollen clit. “nngh, you feel so fucking good, cal.”

“a-are you- god, that’s so hot,” he grunts, glancing down at the way you’re toying with your clit and it turns him on so much he’s speeding up, cock pistoning in and out of you, his thrusts deepening until he’s nearly kissing your cervix, he’s in so deep, your thighs slamming against his hips as you try to close your legs when the head of his cock brushes right up against your sweet spot, creating starbursts behind your eyelids.

“oh god, cal— i-i can’t!”

caleb’s grin is feral, grinding deep to press into that swollen spot inside you relentlessly. “knew i’d find it,” then his fingers joining yours and it’s so much better than your own, two digits rubbing quick circles into your sensitive clit. you’re a babbling mess at this point, the pleasure too much to keep up with. “can you cum for me? can you let me feel it? please? i’ll never ask you for another thing if you give me one right here, right now.”

what are you supposed to do, deny him? you couldn’t even if you tried, not with the heat in your belly full to bursting, needing an escape.

“’m gonna c-cum for you, ge, just for you,” you sob.

caleb has seen many versions of you over the years— grumpy and pillow-marked in the morning with syrup stains on your shirt at the breakfast table, covered in sand and sun-kissed at the beach, screaming at him to do something about the jellyfish sting on your leg, in sleek black dresses at the military balls you attended as his plus one that made all his comrades stop and stare. but you’ve never looked prettier than you do right now. his dog tags between your breasts, your creamy pussy fluttering around his cock, and your pretty face twisted in pleasure as you’re about to cum for him.

he hopes that when he dies, he’ll go out with this image in his brain.

those big doe eyes of yours roll back into your head, hands frantically pushing at his abdomen as if he’s trying to escape the overwhelming friction of his cock. you cum hard, thighs trembling, vision winking out. wet droplets of tears stream down your cheeks as white heat washes over your body, the pleasure bleeding through your limbs like wildfire.

seeing you like this, what is caleb supposed to do? not follow you? he’s been holding his own orgasm back since you barged into his room in one of his shirts, begging to be taught how to suck a cock. there’s no way he can last through seeing— through feeling— you cum around him. his rhythm fractures almost immediately and he knows he’s on thin ice, fraying at the edges.

“gonna cum,” he grits out, voice mangled. “fuck, i’m gonna cum. where do you want it?”

you don’t waste a second, babbling out the answer desperately, “i-inside, ge, cum inside me. give it to me please i want it so bad i’ll do anything!”

that’s all it takes.

one more sloppy thrust and he cums right after you, his hands gripping your hips hard enough to bruise, holding you still. he breathes choppy, ruined moans into your neck as he pumps his release deep inside your cunt before he collapses against you, damp chest heaving against yours, giving a few more weak thrusts of his hips as his climax ebbs.

you don’t know how long the two of you lay there, struggling to catch your breaths. you’re satisfied and pliant as putty underneath caleb, unable to move from his heavy embrace. he’s a wall of solid muscle, one that is pressing you into the mattress. “caleb, you’re heavy.”

“gimme a minute here, pipsqueak,” caleb chuckles breathlessly against your sweaty skin, pressing a wet kiss to your neck. “i just had the best sex of my life and can’t catch my breath.”

you begin to smile in pride, but then your eyes narrow as his words register through the fucked out haze clouding your brain. “wait, you were having sex before this?” you ask, jealousy bubbling up in your chest. “was it that one sergeant? the one who kept giving you lovey dovey eyes at the DAA gala?”

“mmm, nope,” he answers almost immediately, kissing your lips quickly to placate you, making your heart swell big and bright for the boy on top of you. “chill. saved myself all this time for you.”

your heart begins racing stupidly fast at that. “sap,” you tease, before an idea pops in your head and you reach for your phone tossed haphazardly on caleb’s bedside table.

caleb’s grip on you tightens as he notices you reach for it, a dark cloud shuttering his loving expression. “what are you doing?” he demands, the venom in his tone startling you a bit. “texting him already? that eager to try out what i just taught you?”

you frown in confusion until you remember the excuse you used upon coming into caleb’s room. wow, the boy you’re in love with is an idiot. giggling, you lean up and press a sweet kiss to his cheek before opening the camera on your phone and snapping a quick selfie of the two of you.

“no, you big dummy, i’m taking a pic of us losing our virginities together so i can add it to our photo album,” you explain simply, grinning. “and there was never any boyfriend, i made him up.”

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prettyboykatsuki-moved · 3 months ago

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MY LOVE, MY ALIBI | CALEB | XIA YIZHOU (LNDS)

♡ tags ; psuedocest / adoptive incest, afab + fem!reader, minor age-gap (3 years), mentions / non graphic depictions of child abuse (from readers days in the orphanage), childhood crushing, mutual pining, developing relationship, size difference, some religious imagery, loss of virginity, petnames (baby, princess, pipsquak), use of meimei once and gege a few times but very sparing, oral (f!recieving), nipple play, marking, light masochism from reader, mouth-spitting, fingering, bare-backing, 18+

♡ wc ; 23.3k (kill me)

♡ a/n ; hey. this is an incest fic for adoptive siblings. if that makes you uncomfortable, don't read it. block me if you need to. please spare me lecture.

also - i have reader be carried by caleb a couple of times but dude has a bionic arm so he's strong as shit to me. the size difference tag is mostly about his dick. aside from the carrying there is no phyiscal indicators for reader

important to the fic but i play in simplified cn. please go listen to the simplified cn voice actor before you read this. for my sanity. most of my characterization is based on various cn translations from the kind cn fanbase. special thank you to mao @/yinyuedijun and this yt channel.

♡ synopsis ; for as long as you can remember, the sight of caleb's back is whats made you feel safest. it's no surprise that every man that comes after him never quite measures up.

extended authors note. | caleb playlist | ao3 | tipjar

PART ONE: ANYTHING YOU SAY CAN AND WILL BE HELD AGAINST YOU.

At seven, you knock out one of your teeth roughhousing with one of the orphanage boys.

The good news? You’re winning. You’re at the age where size matters more than gender but the boy you’re fighting is both bigger and older than you.

Even so, you manage to pull off shoving him back.

You don’t know his name, only his face— buzzed head and red gums, the pristine picture of anger. You roll around with him in the small stretch of yard behind the orphanage - white tanktop stained with grass, all knobby knees and short limbs as you fight and fight and fight with every ounce of your strength.

You are seven with something to prove and a lot already lost. Your pride refuses to let you lose further. You recieve a hit of adrenaline when you launch the top of your head into the older boys chin and hear his teeth clack from how hard it lands. He collapses in a pile, spits curses he learned from the grown-ups that come in and out as he lays there.

He nearly jumps you when you’re both down. Your head is throbbing where his chin connected and you can tell if he decides to fight you again, your chances of winning have slimmed significantly.

You see it in his eyes. In his face. He’s so angry. Always is. You knew it was a bad idea to provoke him to begin with.

He nearly, nearly jumps you and almost knocks you out completely.

So you decide it might be better to prepare for it. You fold up. Put your arms up high and brace for impact when a shadow - long, endless, casts over your head. Eyes half open, a familiar pair of beat-up sneakers stand in front of you in the grass. You hear a familiar voice. It’s colder than you’re used to.

“Bullying a little kid is lame,” Caleb says, sharp. It makes you shrink further even though it’s not directed at you. “Quit fighting or I’ll get one of the grown-ups.”

You can’t see what's in front of you. You only hear a shock of gasps around you—another confrontation that quickly settles into silence before Caleb turns around.

His face is soft as he bends down to be eye level. Kind, boyish, gentle - he opens up his arms. He’s not happy about something. You can tell because his smile is a little dimmer than normal. You desperately hope it isn’t because of you.

Even knowing Caleb is going to scold you a bit, you find yourself welling up in tears from relief even over fear. You wail as you wrap your arms around his neck and Caleb hoists you up and carries you on his hip like you’re still a baby.

He’s silent as he carries you into the house.

“You shouldn’t get into fights,” He says, soothing. You sniffle as he walks you inside. His shirt smells like summer, hands fisted in it. Holding on for dear life. Call for me next time.”

Caleb sits you on the mattress, in the room all the older kids share. Your feet don’t touch the ground as he kneels in front of you and rifles around under his bed. He has bandages and alcohol, cotton swabs and gauze.

His eyes are kind as he assesses your wounds. Pours alcohol onto a cotton pad and frowns each time you sniffle and sob from the pain of getting them cleaned. “A crybaby like you shouldn’t fight anyone, seriously.”

“Shut up,” You say first. You hang your head low, instant regret. Your hands close again, blunt nails digging into your palms. Your lower lip trembles. Caleb quickly puts a hand on the top of your head when he notices your distress. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay. Just depend on me, alright?” He grins with the same front tooth missing. Like a mirror image of you, you think. “I’ll always help you.”

At ten, you give up celebrating your birthday.

You’re the age Caleb was when you met and now you’ve both left the orphanage and lived away from it for a few years. You’ve spent nearly three years with a woman you call Grandma and the world feels a lot kinder with her in your life. She takes good care of you. Gives you a warm bed to sleep in, and good food to eat. Doesn’t get angry when you break cups or get up in the middle of the night to go pee.

You live in a house with only three people and you even get to have your own room—one you don’t have to share, not even with Caleb. It’s nice to sleep where there’s no one else, even if most nights you crawl into Caleb’s bed anyway and sleep next to him because it's more comfortable.

Grandma is nice to you. Sometimes, she looks like she’s somewhere far away but it never lasts for long. You’re thankful to her for taking you in.

You have a warm bed to sleep in, good food to eat, and Caleb is right next to you. He’s your brother now, so you can be together forever. And none of the adults from the orphanage are here to punish him anymore when he tries to protect you.

You’re ten and the world seems to be trying its best not to hurt you any further. Somehow, this only makes you feel more uneasy.

You’re happy. It scares you. You often wonder when someone will punish you for it. If someone will be blamed for allowing it. It makes you feel helpless when you think about it too long.

But you have Caleb. He makes it easier. You can cling onto his shirt when it gets too hard. And he’s older now, enough to really feel grown up.

A night, when you clutch the fabric until it stretches wide, trembling after you’re plagued by bad dreams - having nightmares of rusted rain, Caleb is there.

No matter how deeply asleep, he always wakes up to hold you.

( You wait for him to tell you that you’re too big to be getting scared over nightmares, but the day still hasn’t come. You hope it never does. You think you’d be so sad you would never stop crying. )

You’re ten, and the world seems kinder - but you know better by now. You try to take precautionary measures against letting it take everything from you again.

And you start small. With yourself, and your birthday.

You’ve only ever celebrated a few birthdays. In the orphanage they’d celebrate a lot at once, so it never felt very special. You can’t really remember the ones you had before then, don’t remember much from then at all. Since you’ve been adopted, Grandma has celebrated your birthday and made it special. She and Caleb cook your favorite meal together and you sit around and cut-cake afterwards.

They even decorate the house with balloons and streamers.

Your birthdays now don’t compare to the ones you had then.

Nothing bad is happening but still. You like celebrating your birthday. But, can you feel okay about getting to celebrate a birthday at all? When you thought for sure your life might end before then?

Before your eleventh birthday, you announce to your family that you don’t want to do anything special this year. When they probe you with questions about why not, you refuse to give up any answers.

Caleb is thirteen and heartbroken when he hears you say this. Asks questions even as you turn your nose up and refuse to answer. You get into a fight about it, one of the very first of your entire relationship.

It’s that same night you begin to sleep in your own room.

In the weeks leading up to your birthday, you find your house to be more quiet than usual. Caleb is busy with something but you blame yourself for the distance between you. He always comes back seeming tired. Even though he still pats your head and smiles at you the same way, you notice when he seems a little less there at the dinner time.

When your birthday finally comes, your grandma still decides to celebrate it in a small way. She makes your favorite food and gets you a cake and candles. Hugs you when you cry about it, too. The only thing they skip is the decoration.

(You’re brave though, when next year rolls around and tell them you miss it. It makes Caleb happy enough to hug you tight.)

The warmth that fills your heart seeing your name in iced letters is too big for your body. You wonder if this is what having a family was like.

At night time, after dinner and before you cut the cake - you open your presents. There’s two for your eleventh birthday. One from grandma and one from Caleb. Usually, they sign their gift to you together but this year they’re separate.

At first, your heart sinks, but you try not to think about it. Grandma gets you a bike that matches Caleb’s so the two of you can ride together. You’re happy to have it but Caleb insists you can just keep riding on the back of his if you don’t want to learn.

You open Caleb’s gift second. It’s wrapped in pretty paper with a bow on it so you undo it carefully. Inside of it is a plain looking box.

“Open it,”

There’s a pair of earrings and a necklace when you do. It’s not cheap plastic like all the other jewelry you’ve ever had in your life. Little apples covered in gemstones, and a little gold necklace with a pendant and a locket. Your eyes go wide, fingers trembling a little as you touch it.

You look for Caleb’s face unthinkingly. Kind and warm, eyes crinkled and shoulders slack in relief when he sees your happy reaction. His hand is warm as it rests on your head, rubbing gently.

“It took a while but I’ve been helping our neighbors for money so I could buy it for you,” Caleb says, looking down at you with an easy grin. “The day you were born is important for me, so don’t say that you won’t celebrate it from now on. Okay?”

When tears well up in your eyes, you barely have to say a word before Caleb brings you into his waist. You cry to him the same way you always do - with a hand fisted in the back of his shirt like you’re terrified of where you’d end up if you let go.

Even when you ruin his shirt with salty tears, Caleb never voices a word of complaint. His steady heartbeat and warm hands that make you feel like he’s already done it all before, stay exactly where you expect them.

Your dependable, kind older brother.

At thirteen, you take your first field trip overnight.

It takes a tremendous amount of effort to make it happen.

Grandma was easy to convince, but it took you fourteen whole days to convince your brother that you could handle going on a school field trip without having your hand held the entire time.

(You can still hear the amused, taunting lilt in his voice from when you first mentioned it. Sure you’ll be okay pipsqueak? My bed won’t be there for you to take over if you get scared, you know?)

Ugh. He can be so strict. An you swear he was even more stubborn about it than usual.

You had to use every tactic in the book to get him to say yes. Kissing up to him, acting extra wistful, doing your chores and being super well-behaved. After strategically buttering him up for two weeks prior to you just asking, you also made sure to ask when he had one of his friends over. He’s strict regardless of who's around, but having another person in your corner is good for morale.

(This method is effective for the record. Just as Caleb goes to turn you down, his friend throws an eraser at him and clicks his teeth.

“There’s a limit to your siscon behavior. Just let her go.”

You sneak said friend a candy the next time he comes over as thanks.)

After a lot of persistent begging, Caleb relents and allows Grandma to sign your permission slip. It’s an overnight trip sure—but it’s heavily supervised and rooms are separated by gender anyhow. You really don’t know what he was so worried about.

So far, the trip has been really fun. You went to a butterfly garden conservatory as a part of your science project and one landed on your nose. Your friend even managed to get a good picture. In the afternoon, you did a bit of sightseeing and got to buy some street food.

When evening rolled around, you and all your friends holed up in the same hotel room sleeping together on one big floor. You stayed up a few hours later than you should’ve—gossiping and discussing the newest chapter of a very popular romance webnovel. Most of them are out by the time the clock hits midnight.

And now, you’re the last one awake at 1am.

Unfortunately, no matter how long you try to sleep—it is hard to sleep away from home, knowing Caleb isn’t right down the hall. No matter how much the thought makes you frown.

You’ve outgrown the habit of crawling into his bed every night. Still, you think you rest easier knowing that he’s there. You’d never admit it but subconsciously, it comforts you just knowing he is. The few times you get nightmares of the Chronorift these days, your nightmares are especially persistent. You don’t crawl into his bed like you did when you were a little kid as often as you used to. Even when you want it, it’s just a little embarrassing.

Regardless though, he’ll stay up with you until it passes, and until you go back to to sleep. It’s the only thing that helps it go down easier some nights. That he’d be there no matter what happened.

By the time the clock strikes one-thirty, you get the feeling you just won’t be able to sleep unless you at least call him.

So, after carefully sneaking your phone out of your bag - you leave your hotel room to wander the halls and end up in the lobby in your PJs.

You realize your incidental act of rebellion when you catch some stares from late-night guests. You hesitate on whether or not you should go back before deciding that’d be pointless. Fingers hovering over the call button, it takes a beat before you hit and hear the number dial. He’ll probably scold you but you know he’ll answer.

He picks up in one ring. His voice is thick with sleep when he speaks. “It’s late. You should be asleep.”

“Yeah, I know. Sorry, Gege,” You say, crossing slippered feet against the tile of the hotel lobby floor. “Didn’t mean to wake you.”

His voice softens instantly. “Somethin’ happen?”

You shake your head before realizing he can’t see you. “No, I just couldn’t sleep.” A beat. “I thought I would sleep better if…I talked to…someone.”

It’s too embarrassing to tell him you wanted to talk to him, specifically. Caleb is quiet on the other side of the line before he laughs, just a little. “You were so adamant on wanting to go with your friends, huh? I thought you’d be just fine. Were you being brave for show?.”

You frown a little, groaning. “I did have fun. A lot of fun. We talked a lot before bed too, and now everyone else is asleep. It’s not like I regret going. And I wasn’t being brave, I was just—”

“Sure, sure. Still can’t sleep unless you know I’m there, huh?”

Silence stretches over the line. You feel your face grow hot with embarrassment as you stretch your legs out, chin tucked against your chest.

“Maybe I should just hang up on you,”

“I didn’t say it was a bad thing,” Caleb says more gently. “You can call me as much as you want.”

“You’re being nice like when we were kids.” You observe.

Caleb scoffs a little. “I’m always nice.”

You roll your eyes and Caleb laughs like he knows you did it. It’s quiet again before he speaks. In the voice that makes him feel older than he is. “I’m worried about you so I’m being even nicer than usual. Is that okay?”

His tone is light, teasing, but there’s more to it than he lets on. You trace a pattern into the worn, fabric arm of the chair you sit in. “Why?”

“I get worried when you go somewhere I can’t see you.” He says agreeably.

Your face tugs into a frown, strangely mortified by the sincerity of it. “It’s not like I’m a kid anymore. I’ll be fourteen in a few months.”

Caleb laughs. “As far as I’m concerned, you’ll always be a kid.”

You huff. “That’s not fair. Does that mean I’ll have to beg you like this to do anything for the rest of my life? You’re too much.”

“At least until you turn eighteen.” Caleb replies, voice airy and content. “And if you’re still a little weakling then, probably a few more years after that too.”

You groan. “How terrible. What kind of brother are you? So cruel.” You pause “You’re more like my dad sometimes.”

“Since you’re my responsibility, I usually have to act as all three.” Caleb says with ease. “You should get used to it.”

Despite your grievances, your body relaxes exactly the way you expect as you listen to him talk. You yawn out loud, sleep making your eyes and limbs heavy.

“Finally tired?” He asks, voice softened. Doting. It’s so instant, you don’t have the will to fight it. “Go sleep. Make sure you eat tomorrow morning and don’t just wait until noon.”

“Okay, Gege.” You yawn again. “Goodnight. Love you,”

A long silence stretches between you. You wonder why he hesitates. “Love you too. Now go to bed. And don’t sneak out without telling your teachers again,”

“Wait, how did you—”

“I know everything.” He says dismissively. “Goodnight, okay?”

You pull back and stare at your phone. He’s a little scary sometimes.

“Yeah. Okay. Night,”

At sixteen, you go experience the first real heartbreak of your life.

It’s less over the actual relationship and more about the events leading to your break-up.

Your secret boyfriend of five months kissed one of your closest friends. And you caught them both red-handed.

It was in the gymnasium after school a few weeks ago. You nearly fist fought them both before getting overwhelmed and simply running away in tears to a nearby playground. Your two other best friends had to pry you out of a bed of mulch and take you home after wiping your tears.

You have a list of grievances about the situation. You like (?) the guy but you loved your friend - but now you have neither. And all of it happened for a reason you cannot wrap your mind around at all.

You’re thankful for your other friends who have taken your side in the matter while still trying to get to the bottom of it. And it’s good having them, but in your time of teenage angst - the one person you’d like to tell absolutely can’t know.

Not telling your older brother is hard. Keeping the secret makes you feel guilty enough, but it’s made harder when he’s home. And he will be for the next two weeks until he has to go back to the dorms. They’re on some kind of spring break.

Until then, you make it your mission to keep up appearances. Since the one person you don’t want to find out about your relationship is the person who’d find out the fastest.

Caleb is strict. Has been for as long as you can remember. Though you’ve never explicitly spoken on dating - he has, more than once, “subtly” warned you about having an interest in the opposite sex. You remember how you made stupid heart-eyes to one of his school friends years back and he still brings it up whenever you ask about him and how he’s doing. As if even wanting to know is some kind of betrayal.

(And well, maybe you do ask just to see him react like that. It’s…funny. It’s not like Caleb needs to know that.)

You don’t like keeping secrets from your brother. You’re close. Way closer than most people ever are with their siblings.

Maybe because Caleb has always taken care of you—he feels less like a sibling you can pointlessly squabble with and more like your guardian at times.

It’s hard for you to lie to him explicitly so the fact you’ve kept the relationship under wraps for five months is kind of impressive.

You always told yourself, you’d tell Caleb if it ever got serious. Truthfully though, you didn’t think it was going to last. Didn’t even want to accept until your friends pressured you.

Your now ex-boyfriend is the one who asked you out, which is what pisses you off the most. He’s one of the popular guys in your grade and he’s…nice. Was nice. You don’t think you’d be sad if he simply broke up with you and went out with your friend. You’d think less of him maybe, but it’s not like you’re in love with him.

It’s all the other stuff that’s weighing you down. It’s getting into a fight with your friend. It’s getting two-timed by the jackass who asked you out first. One you didn’t even like that much.

(Maybe not at all.)

It’s wanting to whine and complain about all of this to your older brother who would take your side but not being able to - because you can’t tell him half truths. You don’t have it in you. You barely have it in you to lie to him.

(Truthfully, you think the only reason you’ve been able to all this time is because you’ve kept said boyfriend at arms length somewhat knowingly. You haven’t had a proper kiss.)

Telling Caleb everything is a long time compulsion you don’t know if you’ll ever unlearn.You don’t know if it’s loyalty or gratitude—only that it makes you feel like a dog whose been leashed to a post for most of your life before it gets unchained.

Even when you’re no longer shackled to it, you find you can’t go anywhere. Being without it doesn’t free you, not really. You find it goes against what you know to try to escape without hearing the click of metal.

You stay by the post. You tell Caleb everything. It feels outright wrong to lie about something important.

(And it’s still hard lying about something unimportant.)

You’re sure it speaks to the depth of your attachment but you always end up spilling your guts to him. Like a child always wanting to please their parents and behave. You know Caleb will accept you, even if he gets angry. But you don’t actually know how he’ll react and that scares you into not wanting to tell him at all.

The thought of disappointing him is what makes you most uneasy.

So, you decide that you’ll take it to the grave. It’s your one half-ass rebellion and these are the natural consequences. As long as you process your friendship grief and wear out your anger - it’ll be smoothed over before you know.

Meticulously, you time your sessions of grieving and angry debriefing phone calls in the hours Caleb is out of the house. You work hard at keeping up as if nothing is happening in your life at all. You feel an unshakeable feeling of guilt the entire time, one that has you waking up in cold sweat but you ignore it because… well, you don’t really know how to fix it.

(Truthfully - you’re irrationally worried that he’d leave over something so trivial, and you’d be seven and all alone in the world again. As nonsensical as it is, and as much as you want to pretend otherwise, your attachment to Caleb really matters that much to you.)

You very nearly make it to the finish line of this plan too. Almost. .

In the middle of your crying session - you answer a knock on the door and assume it’s Granny (who does, at least partially, know what’s going on). You open it without thinking.

It’s the last person you want to see in the moment.

You quickly try to shut the door but Caleb is quicker. Slides his unnecessarily huge body through the small gap and shuts it behind him - trapping you both. You stumble back a little, but he catches you by the wrist to make sure you don’t actually fall.

You feel like a deer in headlights. Red, water rimmed eyes, runny nose, and face puffy - you try to pull your sleeves over your hands and wipe your face. Even though he’s already seen it. You’re too old to be crying like this in front of him. It’s humiliating.

Caleb grabs your wrists easily before you can wipe them away. You blink away a few unshed tears to get a better look at his face. You inhale, your chest tight - feet like lead as you look at your older brother. His pinched expression, almost pained but still tender. Still gentle. Just seeing it again makes you want to cry.

“I knew it,” He says. He drops your hands and instead cups your face with his palm, thumb wiping away tears as he cups your cheek. His expression is firm. “What’s wrong, hm?”

It’s like something in you collapses.

You give into it without any effort.

Caleb makes it so easy, after all, to be the weakest version of yourself.

With him, there’s no desire to fight what feels inevitable. So you let yourself fall to nothing in Caleb’s arms and cry. You’re torn up over your first real friendship fight so you let yourself lean on him. Just like you do at seven, and ten, and all the years before. Fist your hand tight in the fabric of his shirt like you’re worried he’ll shake you off, even though he never does.)

(Later, you’ll remember this conversation and realize that there was never any room for anyone else. It was a kind of teenage naivety to think otherwise.

You’ll hear the sentiment from everyone you know—friends, colleagues, family: the person you can be weakest with is who you should marry. If only you had known that then, too. Maybe accepting it would’ve been easier. Maybe you would’ve known sooner what feeling you’d spend the rest of your adult life chasing)

Caleb rests his hand on the back of your head as he tucks your face against his chest. It’s warm and soft. The comforting scent of detergent and cologne, undercut by oil and jetfuel. You wish you could bury yourself in.

You stand and cry like that in silence for a long while. Caleb holds you tight without asking any questions, his chin resting on top of your head, patting your back.

When you pull away from him, ready to explain - he walks himself over to your bed and sits on it. His expression is unreadable. Concerned but trying not to worry too son.

With his legs wide, he opens his arms out to you to invite you into his lap the way you did when you were kids. You wonder if he’s joking—trying to make you laugh and cheer you up.

But in the moment you’re so fragile, you tuck your chin and sit anyway. He stiffens briefly, as if surprised but soon enough, strong arms lay drape your waist as he lets you lean into him.

“Ready to talk about it?”

You fidget. “Aren’t you busy?”

He shakes his. “I’m all yours.”

Your chest feels warm and fluttery when he says it. It soothes you. .

You sniffle, adjusting in his lap. “I’m sorry.”

“Do you want to tell me what happened?” He asks. “You don’t have to,”

“No, I—” You shift in his lap. “It feels wrong. Not telling you.”

Caleb hums. “You’re at that age. I already know that much. But no matter what I’m on your side, so don’t hide when you’re feeling sad or upset. Okay?”

“Nn,” You nod. “Yeah. I’m sorry.”

“It’s really fine. It’s not like I can really be mad at you, right?”

You make a small, thoughtful noise. “You say that but you’re unexpectedly good at holding grudges.”

Caleb laughs. “Hm, that’s true. But not with you.”

You repeat the words to yourself, half-dizzy with a smile. “Not with me.”

Caleb smiles at you. He holds you a little tighter. You grab hold of his jacket, white knuckling the fabric until your heartbeat settles.

“So. Do you want to tell me what happened?”

( In the end, you tell Caleb everything from start to finish.

It’s just as you predicted. Once you start, it’s hard to give him anything but the full truth. Caleb listens to you intently without interjecting. Rests his chin on your shoulders, leaving you with nothing but his body language to pick up on his moods.

He stiffens when you tell him you had a boyfriend. Calms down when you tell him you didn’t like him very much, that all you did was hold hands and cuddle and you still think it was a waste.

Caleb listens to it all. Hangs onto your every word until you’ve tuckered yourself out. You think of what they say about how a burden shared is a burden halved and hope that it’s fine to depend on him this much all these years later.

Caleb is silent and steady for the duration of your talk. Towards the end he tells you: “No boy should ever make you cry. Should I get revenge for you?”

“Gege,” You say exasperated “And what about boys making me cry? That’s all they do from what I can tell.”

He doesn’t refute that. “ That’s true. It’s better to avoid them, really. If I ever make you cry you though, you can hit me,” He replies. You laugh a little.

“I don’t think you would make me cry without good reason.”

“If I do, I’ll make sure to repent for my whole life after.” He says, joking. Maybe joking.

Your cheeks warm “Your whole life feels like a long time.”

“Is it? You can’t really get rid of me easily, so I think it makes sense.”

“I guess that’s true. You can’t get rid of me either, you know.”

Caleb grins at you. “How lucky.”)

At nineteen, you go to a club in the Linkon entertainment district for the very first time.

Your friends dragged you here. It’s your first year of the Hunter Academy and your first time living away from home. You’ve spent most of the school year completely focused on training and working towards your goals - trying to be strong enough to work alongside a certain someone and hold your own.

You’re not here of your own volition, but honestly? It’s not so bad. Drinking and dancing with your friends proves fun for the first couple of hours at least.

After that gets old though, really more stressful than anything.

You aren’t supposed to be here in the first place. That’s the main cause of your current unease. The club is 21+ and it was already an ordeal getting in. The longer you stay, the more restless you feel—the more you want to leave before anyone gets caught up in anything.

You’ve been knocking back drinks all evening, courtesy of some of your friends - and the night is starting to come to a halt for you internally. All the discomfort and overstimulation go from engaging to overwhelming, and your head is starting to spin.

You’re in the section where you and your friends got invited. Apparently there’s someone tonight who's popular in the nightlife scene - son of some rich business man you think. Your friend has been doing you all the solid of keeping him happy. Your eyes flit over to where they dance on the floor and you feel yourself wince just looking at them.

Shit, your head is throbbing.

Pinching the bridge of your nose, you sink back in your seat and think about what the best strategy is to get out of here.

All of you should go home honestly. There won’t be major consequences for simply being intoxicated, but sneaking into an establishment like this really might affect your ability to graduate. Your academy is not known for its leniency.

Aside from that, you’re tired. You should have more energy than this. You would normally, you think. But it’s a Friday and you had taken up some extra training since you had no plans to be out. The addition of alcohol dehydrating you and the sharp and particular pain from stiletto heels makes you lethargic. Dead on your feet.

It’s later in the night but not so late people are leaving. A second wave of attendees are shuffling in now. You have half a mind to mix with the crowd and leave by yourself. It feels like a good idea at least.

But then, more people are brought to your section. You’re only half-paying attention as the guy from earlier, the one paying for you all, happily introduces the new group to people already sitting.

“...And Caleb, it’s good to see you. You’re usually too busy to come to things like this,”

A pair of eyes bore into you. You freeze completely, eyes glued to your phone screen as you catch a glimpse of the one person you absolutely do not want to be meeting here.

“Yeah,” A familiar voice says. His voice is light like he’s not noticed anything.”I’m glad I came. I’ve already seen some interesting things.”

The dull throb in your head turns the corner to a sharp pain. A feeling of complete misery washes over you. Truly, the worst possible outcome. You wonder what Caleb is doing here in the first place. From what you know, this isn’t usually his kind of establishment either. Maybe someone from his dorms dragged him here too? You think it’d be something like that.

You make the mistake of looking up as Caleb slides in opposite to you with a few other friends. His expression is completely unreadable as your eyes meet across the table. He flashes you a smile that makes your nerves stand on end. All you can do is look away, eyes flitting back down your phone.

A text appears at the top of your screen.

from cpt big bro (1:03am): nice to see you.

A feeling of unease immediately feels you, but when you look back up at Caleb - he’s pretending like you don’t even exist.

You don’t know why you feel so guilty in the first place. Sure, you snuck in here but it’s not like you did something unheard of. And you’re past the legal drinking age in the first place. And the clothes weren’t your idea. You’ll tell him that when he inevitably asks.

You’re not doing anything so wrong but you’re worried he’ll get the wrong idea.

(A voice in your head asks: what idea? You tell yourself it’d be embarrassing if your brother thought you were looking for a hook-up. It’s reasonable enough.

You decide not to interrogate the reasoning any further, even when the feeling doesn’t go away.)

You find your gaze falling in your lap as you try to dissolve the overwhelming feeling of shame and upset just knowing Caleb’s seen you like this.

It’s worse though to have him ignoring you. You know he’s probably doing it for your sake. Even knowing he’s not malicious doesn’t make it much better. Your eyes stay glued to your phone screen.

You don’t know how much time passes before someone else joins you at the table.

A woman this time.

“Caleb! You actually came,” She says over the music. You watch her from your peripherals as she slides in next to him without hesitation. “I thought Kenji was lying to get more girls to show up.”

You hear him laugh a little. You think he sounds a little uncomfortable, but maybe you’re reading too much into it. “I didn’t have much of a choice.”

“Isn’t that always how that goes?” She hums. Your eyes widen slightly seeing the way she presses herself up against his arm. “But I’m glad you're here. Maybe I can convince you to dance.”

“You can try,” He says. You know he’s just being amiable. Or at least, you think he’s just trying to be amiable.

You’ve never really seen Caleb flirt with a girl, so you don’t have a real reference for what does and does not count.

It’s the first time in all of your life you’ve ever seen Caleb get hit on so closely. You’re used to his popularity of course - but back then, Caleb usually made a point to run away. No one ever got near enough. He’s always been nice about it of course, tries to let people down easy.

You don’t know the girl who's flirting with him now, but you can tell that they know each other. They’re sitting close, but not enough to be obvious. You can hear them too, though. Hear how she talks to him. It’s not hard to tell that she’s hitting on him. And your brother isn’t reciprocating but he’s not quite turning her down. It doesn’t seem to bother him, enough that when he makes jokes playfully rejecting her - the conversation still doesn’t sour.

They get along, is what you mean. Better than you thought they would.

Your stomach churns.

You try not to think about whats making you sick. But it washes over you all at once. More dizzy than nauseous. You feel like someone is tying your insides into a coil. The more you try to divert your gaze - the harder it is to ignore it. Caleb glances at you from time to time, but it seems accidental at best.

Your heart is hammering. You think about how long it’s been since you’ve last seen each other. All the things that have happened while you’re apart.

When you find you can’t sit and handle anymore, your body makes the decision to leave for you.

It happens quickly. You stand to your feet, nearly stumbling in your heels as you talk to a friend on the dance floor and make-up a nonsense excuse about needing to leave. She offers to call you a taxi, but by then you’re already making a bee-line to the door and out of the club.

It’s late when you leave. Your whole body feels like it’s trapped in ice as the unforgiving night air whips your skin and leaves you cold. You stumble down the steps in your heels until you finally make it onto the curb with all the other drunk club-goers trying to get home or sober up.

You’ll flag down a taxi, go home, and pretend nothing happened. You repeat the routine to yourself over and over.

It feels like the only way you can handle it. Your mind can't process it otherwise. Can’t think too hard on what you might’ve been privy too.

“Where are you runnin’ off to?”

You freeze when you hear Caleb’s voice. You have half a mind to break into a sprint but you aren’t sure you can without breaking your ankles with your heels. Another part of you is preening over the fact he came immediately to find you. You turn around and try to walk away briskly - only to feel a warm hand on your wrist, pulling you towards him and making you come to a halt.

“Let me go,” You mumble.

He holds you a little tighter.

“Don’t be like that. No matter how much training you have, I know you can’t run in heels so quit it,” Caleb says, with a sigh. “Why’d you run off?”

“What do you mean why?” You say, words slurring. “Who’d wanna see—hicc—”

Caleb frowns at you. “Why’re you trying to be tough if you can barely keep yourself standing up straight?”

He sighs, bending down. You let out a noise as he undoes the strap of your heel.

“Take them off,”

You pout. “How am I supposed to walk home like that?��

“I’ll carry you on my back,” He replies. “Your ankles with have a hard time if you keep wobbling like that,”

“My feet will get dirty from the pavement.”

You’re being difficult on purpose. Drunk and upset, arguing with anything he says. Caleb knows this you’re sure but he doesn’t seem to have a reaction to it besides mild exasperation. Despite that though, he still tends to you.

He makes a face at you before sighing. You watch as he slides his jacket off of his shoulders and drapes it over you. It’s oversized on him, even more so on you. It fits more like a dress and covers more than your outfit does.

When you’ve slipped your arms through it, he drops down onto his knees and undoes the other strap of your heel. He turns around after that, signalling for you to get on his back. You want to refuse him but you find you don’t have the words to do so. You comply with his request, putting your arms around his neck as he lifts you with frightening ease.

He bends down with you on his back to pick your heels up and carry them.

“Aren’t you gonna ask me anything?” You mumble. Caleb sighs. It makes you bite your lip.

“It can wait a bit.”

“Hmph.”

You find you have nothing left to argue with him. You give up on trying to refuse and let him carry you, both hands lifting you up as you keep your arms around his neck. Your cheek pressed against his shoulder, worried your makeup will smear on it.

You don’t know how long you walk. Your eyes are closed for the duration of it and you only open them again when you sense a change of lighting. The noise of an automatic door and a tired greeting alarms you. You feel embarrassed, suddenly, at the idea that someone else has seen you like this.

Caleb just greets them as normal.

“Aren’t you gonna let me down already?”

“Are you feeling uncomfortable?”

“No, but—”

He doesn’t respond to you further. You get the impression there’s not much meaning to continue arguing so you keep quiet.

You watch from over his shoulder as he roams the aisles until he comes across cheap pairs of slippers and socks - next to other random household items. He picks the correct size without asking you. Seeing it only adds to the strange feeling you’ve had since leaving the club.

He goes to self check-out, pays for the sandals, then carries you to one of the few seats and table near the window of the 7/11. Carefully, he sets you down on one, your heels on another, then silently opens the packaging. He drops to his knees and looks up at you in silent question.

“You don’t need to—”

He doesn’t say anything when you attempt to refuse him. Keeps quiet and just waits for you, not unkindly. You frown and hold your foot out to him. He rolls each sock carefully onto your feet, pulling them all the way up over your ankle before the slippers follow.

“Do they fit okay?”

“Mm,”

You nod. Caleb hums. Holds his hand out.

“C’mon. Pick out something to eat or drink so you sober up a bit,”

“While we talk?” You ask, voice suddenly small. He pauses, smiles just barely, and pats your head with the same firm hand he always does. It makes you want to cry.

“Yeah. While we talk.”

You nod as Caleb helps you off the seat. “I’ll go get some water.”

“Okay,”

You think of what you want to eat. Childhood memories whisper answers to you. Chips and candy - sweet and salty so you have balance. You remember the way Caleb would cut into his own snack budget for you to get what you wanted. He’d pretend to complain, but he’d smile at you while you ate.

You pick the same things you used to. You wonder if he’ll notice.

He returns with two bottles of water. “Did you finish choosing?”

You nod. His eyes drift to your hands. He cracks another smile that makes you happier then it should.

“I see. Let’s check out then, hm?”

Your heart flutters. You follow him quietly. He goes to the cashier the second time around - amiable, friendly and easing some unspoken tension. Apologizes for the inconvenience and, with familiar diligence, asks if there’s a recycling bin for him to toss trash nearby. The cashier offers to do it for him.

Afterwards, he holds his hand out to you like it’s only natural for you to want to hold it. You take it.

Of course, you do.

He guides you outside, and the two of you sit on the curb. An expectant look appears on his face when he dusts off place beside him where he’s hoping you’ll sit. You do, knees touching - folding your hands into your lap. He opens the bottle of water and hands it to you.

“We could’ve just shared one,” You offer.

“I’m not so stingy,” Caleb says.. You purse your lips. You want to tell him that’s not what you mean, but you don’t want to ask yourself what you do mean.

You take it from him and drink.

Silence stretches over the seemingly endless night. The streets of Linkon prove to be busy and limitless. Given the district you’re in, you’d expect it to be more packed - but the streets are desolate. Proof of life resides in the lights of buildings and clubs but now, here—it feels like you’re the only two people left in the world.

It’s quiet for a long while. You sit like that until you break the ice.

“You still haven’t asked me anything.”

“Well,” Caleb looks at you from the corner of his eyes and shrugs, taking a drink. “I can kind of guess why you were there in the first place. Don’t have much of a clubbing spirit, you know. Your friends probably told you to go right?”

You nod.“You’re not upset?”

“Mm,” Caleb sighs. “Not at you for just going. It’s hard to be mad at you especially when you…” He trails off, an almost imperceptible smile on his. He shakes his head before continuing and you miss the window to ask about what that was all about. He glances at you again. “Your dress is too short, though.”

You feel heat crawl up your skin. “It’s not that bad. And I’m nineteen,”

“So? You’re still my baby sister. Naturally I won’t approve, right? You know that much.”

You bend over your knees, pouting. You feel weirdly happy but try not to think about it. “You’re so unreasonable sometimes.”

He clicks his tongue. “I’m being very reasonable right now,”

“...Mm.”

Tension lingers in the air. You open the chips Caleb got you and tilt it his way. A peace offering. He takes one.

“Why’d you run off?”

You make a face. Will yourself to not cry as you tuck your chin.

“...I dunno.”

He glances at you. You miss the knowing expression on his face. “Even if you were doing a good job of lying, you know that wouldn’t work on me right? Did something happen? Something you can’t tell me?”

“Nothing happened but you—”

Caleb interjects. “Me? So it’s because of me then.”

You bite your tongue. Caleb is lost in thought.

“I didn’t mean to ruin your night showing up. Didn’t know you’d even be there. It’s not like I’m mad or anything.” Caleb starts.

“It’s not that,” You say quickly. The frustration just thinking about it makes your throat well up. You can feel it. You drink water trying to wash it down.

“Then?”

It slips out of you, exasperated as you sit up and turn to look up at him.

“You were ignoring me,” You say, voice wet and shaky - hands fisted at your knees, shoulders tight. You still haven’t sobered up much. Your lips curl into a frown. Caleb is stunned into silence. “You didn’t even… I thought you were mad at me. And then that girl sitting next to you was—”

You stop yourself. Caleb looks at you wide-eyed. Opens his mouth to say something but closes it again soon after. He processes what you’ve said slowly, though he doesn’t seem surprised by all of it.

“I wasn’t mad at you. Surprised, but not so mad. Even if I were mad, I wouldn’t ignore you. It’d make more sense for me to drag you out myself, don’t you think?”

You huff. “It felt like you were mad at me. And—”

You want to ask. Who was she? Why was she so close to you? Why didn’t you push her away? Do you like her?

Nothing comes out right. You bite your lip. “That girl… was she your friend?”

Caleb stops. He looks awkward all of a sudden. “Huh? No, no. She’s my senior. She has someone else she likes,”

“She was hitting on you,” You say bluntly, sticking your feet out. “And you didn’t stop her.”

For a brief moment, you swear he looks amused. His expression settles again quickly. “I know she’s not being serious so I didn’t feel like there was any point causing a rift.”

“She’ll get the wrong idea. If you don’t turn her down properly and just let her—” Be all over you. Touch you so close. Get in your space. “...flirt with you.”

A beat. “You think I should turn her down properly then?”

It hangs in the air. You want me to turn her down?

You bite the inside of your lip. “Yeah.”

“Will it make you feel better?”

Your eyes meet. For a brief second you feel like someone has stolen all the air from your lungs in one go. You look down.

“Yeah,”

Caleb’s breath hitches just a touch before he speaks. “Okay.”

He opens his arm up to invite you closer and slot into his side the way you used to. Blinking wetly, you scoot across the concrete and tuck yourself under the safety of his arm. Your face is close to his chest. He smells like cologne and iit makes your heart beat feel erratic. His hand comes up to stroke your head and you let him soothe you like you have so many times before.

“No matter what happens, there’s nothing you could do or say that’d make me angry enough to ignore you. I’d never ignore you if I didn’t think you wanted me to,”

“I never want you to ignore me, ever.” You say immediately. “Never ever.”

He chuckles. The way it reverbs in your body makes you dizzy. “Okay, princess. Noted. Do you wanna sit a little longer or should I call a car for you?”

You tuck into his side. It’d be nice if you never had to leave him ever again. Pressing into him, your words muffle in the fabric of his shirt. You tug at the hem.

“Wanna stay here. Just for a bit.”

He hesitates above you. But a while later, you feel his lips at the crown of your head - right at your hairline. His voice is gentle. “Sure. As long as you want,”

At twenty-two, you often dream of your older brother.

At first, it’s grief. Caleb dies not long after your birthday and in the months that pass - the warm memories of your childhood seem to follow you into sleep. Some nights, it feels kind to see him. In your dream, you run into his arms and he holds you tight when you tell him you missed him.

Grief holds the rest of you hostage. You want for nothing and think of nothing except your brother. You miss Grandma too, of course you do.

But there’s nothing in the entire world like a brother. Like your brother—who you could ask anything of. It’s hard to unpack the loneliness you feel. Hard to explain it to other people.

In the months you correct yourself from saying have to had—and watch peoples eyes change into one of sorrow and pity. At the worst of it, you can’t even pretend to think of that as a kindness. Can’t even thank them for being nice. At the worst of your grief, you find yourself especially angry at being pitied. You look at people and want to say they don’t understand. They don’t know what you lost. There are no words that make it digestible. You bite your tongue, give a tight-lipped smile.

What you wanted to say was this: How dare you act like you understand what I lost? How dare you feel sorry when you don’t know the half of it? My brother is dead. A piece of me is missing.

You never say any of it. You bury the words in the black vast of your grief and throw yourself at finding answers.

Your feelings about the incident change the more you find out. About Grandma and the abomination in your heart—and you cycle from anger to sorrow to unease.

They never change about Caleb though. The apparition of him, warm and broad, cycles through your dreams every now and again. Some nights, you wake up expecting to be seven years old again—clinging to your older brother, the only thing you know in the world that’s made you lose everything.

Most nights, you wake up from dreamless sleep and feel yourself wanting to cry.

(You don’t cry often when he’s gone, even when you should.

Who would be there to hold you now when you do?)

When you finally see Caleb again, see him alive—your emotions become just as complicated as your mind has been in the months of his absence.

You’re ecstatic, you’re angry, you’re terrified, you’re so so sad. You are all of these things at the same time.

And then, you realize that the death of Caleb did not only change you. Your older brother comes back to you. He’s warm, kind, and gentle sometimes. But it’s not the same. There’s something about him, inexplicable, that is changed forever.

Caleb dies and comes back wrong—but this only strengthens your resolve. To do what, exactly? You aren’t sure. You don’t know what you want and you still know nothing about the Aether Cores. Or about what Caleb does.

All you do know is that your older brother has come back to you, and you are empty without him. You’d rather have him wrong than not have him at all. You’ll fix him or become wrong with him before you ever let go of him again.

(Even the way he is now, sometimes, he seems worried about ruining you. You want to say sometimes—then ruin me. You know what he’d say if you did. He knows he’d tell you to watch your tongue and not to say what you don’t mean.

You’ve thought about it, though. You’d rather that then he disappear again. You’d rather you know what's going on then not. )

Things have changed. Caleb has changed.

You have changed, most of all.

When you hear from Caleb for the first time he no longer wants to be your brother - that he’s tired from playing house with you, your first reaction is devastation. The memory of that dread is so strong, you still feel it when you replay it all in your mind. Caleb above you, caging you in, unreadable—no longer what you know.

You don’t think about anything. You can’t. It destroys you completely to hear him say it. Makes you want to cling to him and beg. Cry loudly enough to wake the version of him that did want to be your brother. That loved you unconditionally.

When you have to go the next morning and find a memory of your childhood tucked away - you realize not all of him is lost to you. That the parts of him you loved so dearly have not entirely disappeared.

So you stay, and try to mend the broken pieces of your relationship back together.

At twenty-two, you often dream of your brother.

When he comes back to you, you think you’ll be given one more dream before he disappears. You figure the real thing is back in your hands. It’ll go back to the way it was before, where your sleep is long and dreamless but that’s fine. As long as you can wake-up and see the sun, without feeling like yours was stolen from you—anything is fine.

At twenty-two, even after you learn he’s alive, you often dream of your brother.

The first time you ever have a wet dream of Caleb is just after he comes back to Linkon.

After you sit in the garden with Caleb and blow the hydrangea petals away from his face, and his hand comes up to touch you. After he promises to take good care of the flower he takes back to SkyHaven. After he tells you there was no way he’d be able to stay away from you.

When you sleep the night after he returns home, you dream of Caleb again.

This time you’re in your bedroom—the one from your childhood home, that Caleb spent so many years taking up space in. You dream of your brother on top of you and you both look a little younger. His face contorted with pleasure, and your hand being the one to give it to him. The image missing from the waist down, all you can see is the clear view of him over you. Making it so obvious what you’re doing. Doing together.

You wake up from your dream with a feeling like something’s crushing your chest. A wheezing breath as you struggle to calm down. A distinct feeling of wetness between your legs that cling to your PJs when you stumble into your bathroom - trying to relieve yourself and being confronted with the reality of what just happened.

The first time you have a wet dream about Caleb—you only feel shame. You tell yourself that it’s a fluke, and that dreams are meaningless anyway. It makes you violated to think of him like that. You can’t control what you do in your sleep. You decide not to dwell.

Weeks pass and you see Caleb again. You share fruit and more conversation, and the following night - you have another wet dream. This one, more vivid than the last. Different. You dream of Caleb with a baton to your neck and the tension in the room when he caged you in his arms. In your dreams he’s cruel as he drags the metal end down your body, pushes it against your—

You wake up the next morning almost inconsolable.

The cycle repeats for as long as you see him. Every time Caleb appears in your life, you dream of him the next night. You wake up in shock, wet down your legs and spend all morning trying to suppress it down as far as you can.

You tell yourself all sorts of things when it happens. You reason with yourself. Dreams are nonsense. You can’t control them. It’s your brother. You don’t think of him like that.

(You think of all the times you’ve seen him since he’s returned. All the ways his eyes soften for you, all the ways his hands linger—how ever since he’s denied being your brother at all, you think of what that might make you now.

It breaks your heart to not have him as your brother. Your precious family. An unbreakable bond. The one you love most. He touches you the way brothers aren’t supposed to, and you remind yourself of what you can’t have. You remind yourself of what loss you would feel first.

He always looks pained when he touches you like that, though. And, for some strange reason, sometimes you want to tell him: Did you know I dreamt of you touching me? So you don’t need to make that face. Like you’re wrong. My dreams couldn’t make you this gentle.)

The harder you try to force it down, the harder it is to pretend it’s nothing. You push and push and push—but each time you see him, the cycle repeats.

Eventually, it’s too hard to pretend. You refuse to name it, or think about it—but when you let your mind stop forcing it so deep into your subconscious, it’s easier to reconcile.

It doesn’t go away. But your skin prickles with embarrassment, and you sigh, and you move on from it. Even if the dreams don’t stop, you can go on about your day when you leave it all alone.

You think maybe, if you and Caleb never saw each other again, it might even work to rid you of the dreams completely.

But he’s your brother—your precious family, the one you love most. You see him all the time. Whenever your schedule allows it, he’s the first person you check with to see if you can come spend time with him. Even if he can’t be with you, you stay over at his place to eat his food and watch TV on his expensive flatscreen.

It makes you feel like you live together again.

(You try not to reel at the thought. It’s normal for siblings to stay together from time to time. It’s like a sleep over. That’s all.)

So it’s not unusual for you anymore to drop by his place. You even have a key.

(Your key, you think. Caleb put a stupid green apple cover on the top part of it. It’s for you, and only you.)

Even when you do come over, sometimes you only see him at night. You have little conversations before you need to go to sleep (or rather, when he makes you go to sleep.) But it still feels better than only seeing him sometimes.

So it’s not unusual for you to be here in your PJs and watching something stupid while draped on Caleb’s couch.

It is unusual, however, to have him come home so soon.

PART TWO: SO ONLY SAY MY NAME, IT WILL BE HELD AGAINST YOU.

You pick your head up as soon as you hear the security system for Caleb’s apartment announce someone at the door. The time reads 6:56pm.

Heavy footfall makes you pick yourself up, crawling to the edge of the couch and standing on your knees to catch sight of him. You lean forward.

“You’re home early.”

It takes him a second to register who's talking, but he smiles slightly when he does. Turnt towards the doors, he’s leaned against a wall as he undoes the laces of his steel-toed boots.

“So are you,”

You give him a melodic hum. “I got off since we have a holiday. I have Monday off too.”

“Yeah? That’s good. You should try to rest up some,”

“I will. Gotta catch up on my shows first though,” You reply thoughtfully. “I’m like half-way through ‘em.”

“Workin’ hard I see. Try not to over-exert yourself.” He adds, playfully sarcastic. You nod.

You answer him in silly earnest. “Of course. I’m more relaxed here so don’t worry.”

He pauses as he finally stands back up. You see him at the other side of the room with a smile.

“Yeah?”

You feel something in your stomach that you choose to ignore. “Yeah. Plus I don’t have to eat my own groceries.”

“It’s better you eat mine than me wasting them,” He says with a shrug.

“How generous of you.”

“Right?”

You lean forward, resting more of your weight on the couch. “Did they just send you home early too? Or is it some special Colonel privilege?”

You see him shake his head as he slides off his coat and walks over to the fridge, grabbing a plastic bottle of water out of it before taking a few long drinks.

“Mm, kinda the first.” He says thoughtfully. “I got injured in the field today, had to go to the infirmary. It’s a minor injury but I checked in with my commanding officer and he told me I might as well go home.”

You frown. “What kind of injury?”

“It’s really fine,”

“Caleb.”

He sighs, turning towards you. The open fridge door illuminates him. “Just got a bruise along my thigh from how I fell. Nothing broken.” He says. You’re still frowning at him. “Don’t worry about it.”

“How can you be fine if they sent you home?”

“It’s not like that,”

“I don’t believe you,” You say petulantly. Caleb shuts the fridge door with his hip as he laughs.

“What, you want me to show it to you?”

“Yeah.”

“It’s on my thigh. I’d have to take off my pants,” He says, laughing. He joins you on the couch - sitting where you were laying—eyeing you while he waits for you to come join him. You narrow your eyes suspiciously but crawl over to him anyway, sitting beside him with your legs up. “Unless you’re really just wanting me to strip, promise it’s fine. I’ve had it worse,”

“That’s not a good thing. If it were me you’d be freaking out already and fussing over me.”

“It’s different,”

“Is not,”

“Is too. My little sisters still a bit of weakling, see—if I don’t take good care of her she’ll end up hurting herself even worse,” Caleb says, voice high.

“I’m not even weak. Maybe not as strong as you but not weak.”

“When you get stronger than me, we can talk about who gets to worry about who,” He says, flicking your forehead lightly. You pretend to flinch at the injury.

“You let me do whatever I want except worry about you.”

“You got it. Glad you’re getting up to speed.”

You elbow him. Caleb laughs.

You sit back with your knees to your chest, frowning. Caleb leans back, arm stretched on the back of the couch. Inching closer to him subconsciously, your brow furrows as you think about his injury.

It’s like he reads your mind.

“You’re really worried about it.” He murmurs.

You purse your lips. “No shit.”

“Don’t cuss,”

“I’m twenty-two!”

“So?” He raises his eyebrow.

“You make me want to strangle you sometimes.”

“If you succeed I’ll be impressed.”

You glare at him. “I’ll make sure to wait until you’re fully recovered so it counts,”

He relaxes into the couch, eyes filled with mirth. “Smart move.”

“You’re still in your outside clothes. Don’t you want to wash up first?”

“Do I smell bad?”

“No, that’s not it. But if you get too comfortable, you might not want to get up to do it, you know?”

“I’m not like a certain someone, so I’m not worried about that.” Caleb says. You huff as he continues on. “I just wanted to sit with you for a bit first. Is that not okay?”

“I didn’t say all of that. Don’t put words in my mouth, jeez.”

He hums. “Just checking,”

Comfortable quiet settles between you as Caleb sits and watches your drama with you intently.

You relax further into the couch as you settle back in, once again engrossed in your show. It’s a period and fantasy drama about a once noble woman getting married against her will to a supposedly cruel emperor. Crude description aside, it has high political stakes, violence, and good writing.

The romance aspect of the show was what drew you in more-or-less, but it’s a slowburn between the main couple. You’ve mostly been watching for the high-tension plot. It captures both your attention and seemingly Caleb’s too.

“Wait,” Caleb interrupts half-way through an episode. “I want to watch the rest with you but I need to shower,”

You smile at him. “It’s good right? It’s not a lot of romance but there’s other stuff. We can watch it together after you wash-up and maybe…we can have a drink together.”

“You’re so interested in that,”

“I want to know what kind of drunk you are. It’s not fair you’ve seen me drunk and I haven’t,”

“Pfft,” He rubs your head with hand, amused. “What kind of reason is that? But you know what? Sure. Order whatever you want with my card while I go shower.”

“Yay!”

You pause the TV as Caleb stands up and stretches, fishing for his wallet and passing you his card. Snatching it from between his fingers, you give him a mischievous look that makes him laugh.

“Go shower,”

“I am, I am,” He holds his hands up. “I’ll be quick,”

You watch your drama late into the evening.

You drink casually with Caleb as you binge watch the final few episodes of the season you started on. You take a break later in the night to have dinner delivered to you, but afterwards - you decide to keep watching.

Caleb wasn’t lying when he told you he holds his drink well. You’ve both been knocking them back since eight pm. Even with the time to sober up in between, he seems like he hasn’t had a single thing to drink the entire time.

You feel far from wasted, a warm meal in your stomach settling some of inebriation - but you still feel somewhat tipsy. At least enough to have that pleasant, warm, loose-limbed buzzed. You’re sober enough that Caleb doesn’t get on your case about drinking enough water - though you sure it’ll be a different story in another hour or two if it keeps going.

Half-past midnight - you’re two episodes deep into the third season of your drama.

Relaxed, you’re half-way draped on Caleb - legs in hips lap and nursing another cheap can of beer. After several episodes of action and violence - the story is starting to get back to the romance aspect for the main couple.

Maybe it’s your fault for not thinking it through, but you’re really not expecting a graphic sex scene to play so soon after so much high plot.

In the first place, it doesn’t start out like a sex scene. The main character went to go visit her injured husband after he returned from battle. Sweet, you thought. Maybe you’d get to see them have some intense, longing eye-contact like they’ve been having for a while now.

You aren’t sure when exactly it takes a left turn. You’re tipsy and comfortable and warm. On your phone looking things up on social media.

They kiss once, then twice before a breathy moan cuts through the comfortable.

Before you can scramble to find the remote and scrub through it, the scene changes instantly in temperature. A few tepid kisses rapidly go from chaste to deep, all tongue and teeth.

Near full blown nudity flashes across your T.V. screen as a strange heat creeps up your neck. You feel like you’ve had enough mental torment when you see the male lead kiss his way down the female leads neck. It’s more uncensored then you thought.

Your voice is trembling a little. “We should uhm,” You swallow thickly. “Where’s the remote..?”

Caleb feels a little… different. He seems startled hearing you speak, looking at you with lidded eyes. “Not sure. Think you had it last,”

“Oh, right. I don’t,” Another moan rips through the tension between you. It takes your full body effort not to jump. “....really remember where I put it,”

“You want me to help you look?”

You blink at him. “I mean… we should, probably look for it. Since, uhm… you know.”

“Are you uncomfortable?” Caleb interrogates. You stare at him.

“You aren’t?”

Caleb is quiet for a long time, like he’s thinking hard about the answer.

“I feel fine,” Is what he says after what feels like forever.

“You feel… fine.”

He nods without looking at you. “We can skip it if you want. Probably have to get up to find the remote, though.”

You sink back in the couch, your face feeling warm. “It’s fine, then.”

You’re a little startled as the couple on T.V starts to really have sex - at least more than foreplay. It’s not full frontal, but the sounds and angles are enough to get the point across. Caleb just… watches. Relaxed.

“You sure?” He offers, glancing at you again. “It’s fine if it’s too much for you,”

Frowning, you sit up slightly. “What do you mean too much for me?”

“Hm?”

“You’re saying it like you’re used to it,”

Caleb gives you another glance. Assess you once or twice before looking back at the T.V.

“Does it matter if I am or I’m not?”

You find yourself at a loss for words. Is he used to this? That can’t be the case, right?

“You never dated anyone when we were growing up.”

Caleb nods. “You don’t really need to date someone for something like that, though it’s better that way.”

You find yourself shocked by his answer. He’s changed a lot, you know that but—

But it feels wrong. You can’t imagine him just hooking up with someone and having a one-night stand. He’d only ever do it with a girlfriend. So if he has any experience, it’d have to be with someone like that.

He smiles at you. “You’re making a scary face.”

You look up at him, unsure of what face you should be making. The question slips out before you can stop to think about whether or not you should even ask it.

“So are you… used to it?”

He pauses before leaning in. “This is the second time you’ve asked,”

“That’s…”

“I don’t think it’s the kind of thing someone’s little sister should ask their older brother right?”

You snap your mouth shut. Caleb leans a little closer. “Right?”

“You’re not answering,” You whisper. Your foreheads touch.

“Is there a specific answer you’re looking for?” Caleb says.

Your eyes widen, teeth pressing against your lip as you tear your gaze away from his face. . “No,”

“Is that what my answer should be or are you answering what I just asked?”

You don’t give him a reply.

Caleb lets out a soft breath of laughter before he finally seems to decide he’s teased you enough. He gets like this more and more lately. Most times you cool off from it quickly but…

You aren’t sure what drives you to make a move. What makes you tug him back to you by the front of his shirt when he tries to pull away. If it’s the alcohol, or the jealousy that makes you do it. It’s hard to say what the source of your heart pumping so hard is—only that it’s all Caleb’s doing.

Your hands fist in the front of his shirt as you drag him forward and kiss him as hard as you possibly can, only barely avoiding biting down with your teeth. Chaste but harsh, you press your lips together with nothing but pure desperation, air pushing hard through your lungs as you do. For a minute or two, longer than a kiss should last.

And then, you pull away. Out of breath like you just ran a marathon, cheeks hot and flushed. Your first kiss that you initiated. It’s almost mundane.

Embarrassed, your first instinct is to jump off the couch and lock yourself in the bathroom. But Caleb knows you. Even better than you know yourself.

He catches your wrist as he leans towards you. His expression is unreadable.

“You kissed me,” He says, completely entranced. “You did right? I didn’t just dream that?”

“It’s your imagination. You must be drunk,”

He laughs good naturedly. “Maybe I am.”

Your frown deepens. How do you refuse him when he acts like that?

Your heart feels like a jackhammer against your ribcage. You can’t. You really can’t. You shouldn’t have—

“I didn’t mean to k-kiss you,”

Blatant heartache fills his eyes. It feels like something is crushing your chest. “Is that so?”

You squeeze your eyes, relenting only a little. Your voice is barely above a whisper. “We can’t.”

Caleb scoffs “Why? Because you see me as your brother?”

“You are my brother. You are and you always will be, and I don’t want to lose that. I can’t, I can’t. You’re—”

“Why can’t you?” His voice is raw, almost desperate. Trying so hard to understand you. It makes you hurt seeing him like that. “What can I do to become more to you?”

“You’re already`—” Everything to me. “You’ll always be the most important person to me.”

His hands grip tighter, devastation darkening the familiar aura of warmth you’ve come to love. Like he’s at the precipice of something considering what he should do. It takes him a while to come upon answers. Staring at you so desperately before closing his eyes, loosening his grip like he’s ready to let you go.

He looks like he makes a choice then. Really makes one. You can already predict what’ll do. What smile he’ll give you but it feels different from other times.

You hold onto him before he can, hand fisted in his shirt. He startles again, softens, not agitated despite how wishy-washy you’re being.

“It’s not that I don’t want you,” You say, so quietly it almost evades you both. “But I don’t want to lose you as my brother if we become more than that.”

Silence falls between you.

“You won’t lose me,” He replies, gently and easily. Your eyes meet. It’s nice. “I want to be everything to you, remember? All of it. I want you to only think of me for the rest of our life. For us to only need each other. You don’t need to give anything up. When have I ever said no to you?”

You turn away from him, shaking your head. “You said that you never saw me as family, that you wouldn’t be—”

Caleb stops you. “I want to be everything to you. Everything. I want us to only need each other. I had to make you understand. From the start, I never intended to give anything up for anyone else.”

“But that’s…”

“I don’t care if it’s wrong,” He says, reading your mind. “I’m asking what you want. Tell me who you want me to be. I’ll do all of it for you.

You glance down, away from him - guilt, remorse, fear. You’re resolve is wavering, but you’re too afraid to say it out loud.

His voice softens. A hand, big and warm and kind, cups your cheek. You know. Know every scar, every touch.

“Tell your big brother what you want and he’ll give it to you.”

Something in you shatters. The weak resistance you’ve been trying to hold onto so desperately, denying yourself of what you’ve wanted deep down all this time. Having it offered to you, handed to you—proves to be too much. It all comes tumbling down.

Your voice comes out like a whine. Your dependency more than shows.

“Touch me,” You gasp, voice wet with tears. Caleb cracks a slight smile. “Touch me, please—want you so bad. Don’t want anyone else to have you.”

Caleb looks elated. Adoring. Madly and terribly in love.

“What a crybaby, hm?” He pulls away from you, standing up before scooping you in his arms “Here. Hold onto me. I’ll carry you,”

“Caleb, I’m too—”

He stops you. “I have a bionic arm. Don’t say you’re too heavy. It could carry ten of you.”

He keeps good on his promise. You wrap your arms around Caleb’s neck as he picks you up. Wrapping your legs around his waist, a gasp leaves your mouth as his hands rest under your thighs - lifting you as he walks you to his room. It reminds you of when you were little though a lot has changed since then.

The realization makes you nervous.

“The TV is still playing.” You mumble..

“You won’t be able to hear it from my room,”

“This is embarrassing,”

“You’ll live.” Caleb hums.

“I hate you,”

Caleb opens his bedroom door with his hip and closes it the same way, walking you to the end of his bed and dropping you on to his mattress. He leans over you, hands on either side of your thighs to keep himself up - inches away from your face.

“Don’t say things you don’t mean. It’ll make me sad.” He says sweetly.

You pout. “Sorry,”

He laughs a little. “It’s okay,”

This close to you, you feel a strange warmth glow your whole body. You crane your neck up to kiss him chastely, pulling away and feeling shy again.

“You taste like beer,”

Caleb stares at you for a long time, smiling slightly. Dazed. “Should I go brush my teeth?”

You look down, away from his face, your hands fiddling with the ends of his shirt. “No…”

He presses his forehead to yours, noses brushing. “How can you be so cute, hm?”

“Quit that,” You whine.

“If you get this embarrassed just hearing you’re cute, you’ll have a hard time later on.”

You blink up at him owlishly. He laughs, pressing a kiss to your cheek.

“I’m barely holding it together, you know?”

You look up at him.

“What do you wanna do to me?”

His eyes seem to dilate. “Don’t ask me that,”

“Tell me. I want to know,”

He laughs breathlessly. “That’s unfair,”

“I don’t have to be fair with you,” You say petulantly. “Tell me,”

“I’ve spoiled you too much.” Caleb says, faux regret. “Even if you get scared, you can’t run away.”

“I won’t get scared,”

“Really?” Caleb hums. He moves to the side, his mouth next to your ear - voice barely audible. He puts his hands over yours as he towers over you. “You sound confident, but you know—I’ve wanted to touch you for so long. So badly that it scares me just thinking about it. Can you handle that?”

It’s a confession you think, as much as it’s dirty talk. He pulls back and you’re face to face again.

“I’m not scared of you. Even if you can’t control yourself I won’t be scared.” You tell him, headstrong as always.

His smile falters. “I don’t want to hurt you,”

“I know you like to call me a weakling but you know I’m not really made of my glass,” You stare at him, eyes tracing over his features. “It’ll be hard for you to break me in one go. Might’ve be fun,”

He tsks. “Don’t talk like that. I’d prefer to treasure you.”

You look at him for a long time quietly.

“I dreamt of you.”

“Hm?”

You feel your face flush, but for some strange reason - you have an urge to tell him. The words come easy. Maybe you’ve just been waiting for a reason to confess.

“Of you touching me,” Caleb’s eyes go wide. You smile a little. “Used to dream of you when you were, you know… but it wasn’t the way I dream of you now.”

“How do you dream of me now?” His voice is strained.

“They’re dirty dreams,” You say, fidgeting. “Sometimes I’m touching you and making you feel good. But most of the time, it’s you doing whatever you want to me.”

His voice is hoarse. “Yeah?”

“Mm,” You lock eyes. You can see it in him. It almost feels cruel, but you’re not saying it to tease him. “I had a wet dream about when you were interrogating me. You were being mean in that one. Really mean,”

“I already said sorry about that,”

“I didn’t say I didn’t like it,”

He swallows. “Oh,”

“Yeah, oh.” You slide your hand up his arms, squeezing the back of his biceps as he leans over you. Look up at him with mutual love. “I’ll only say it once so please listen carefully: I’m fine with anything if it’s you.”

It’s unexpected when Caleb tackles you to the bed. Not to kiss you, rather—but to hug you. You squeal as you both drop onto the mattress with your legs hanging off the edge. Caleb’s full weight crushes you, trapping you in his arms. You find yourself laughing a little, giggly as you feel him squeeze you tight enough to crush you.

“You’re squishing me, Caleb.”

He laughs breathlessly, rolling you both to the side. Pulling away with your face inches apart, he beams.

“Do you know that I’m crazy about you? Or do you say things like that not even knowing?”

“I don’t know,” You say, burying your face against his chest. “I just know you take good care of me. I want to take good care of you too,”

A spectrum of emotions pass through Caleb’s features at once at the admission. It’s the most vulnerability he’s ever shown you.

His body stiffens. He takes a deep breath before pulling away from you. You watch him innocently as he pushes himself up closer to the headboard. Rolling onto your stomach, you stare at him as he rolls onto his side.

“More comfortable this way, right?”

Consider without trying, your face warms. Caleb’s voice is whisper soft. “C’mere.”

You push yourself up until you’re closer to him, legs no longer hanging off the edge.

Within his reach, Caleb’s hand find your waist. He’s strong, you forget it all too easily—until he’s manhandling you to be in his grasp. Careful but demanding. Rolling on his back, he pulls you onto his lap until you’re straddling him.

The view proves too much for you both. His face is pink. A sheepish smile on his face.

“Regretting it?”

You shake your head quickly, careful not to rest your weight on his lap. He rests one of his hands on your thigh, closer to your knee and steals a glance at you.

Like this, you become aware of him for the first time. Consciously, as if he’s become a completely different person. All the things you’d never allow yourself to consider, slowly draw into focus. Like seeing him with a new set of eyes.

You notice every detail. Sparking arousal and curiosity, you put your hand on his chest and just stare. Unconsciously, your fingers reach for the dog-tag necklace you gifted him - straightening it. Metal warmed underneath your fingertips, you center it on his shirt. At the dip of his muscles where his chest is.

Fitted tank-top shows off enough to give you an idea of what’s underneath. Smooth, alabaster skin. Muscles bulking underneath the ribbed cotton - soft and supple from lack of tension, rising and falling with each breath. Your thumb smooths over the silly apple-shaped pendant, the raised letter of the dogtags. The brief skin to skin makes the air feel electric.

You do it unthinkingly, really. Following your instinct, you rest your hand on his chest before sliding them up closer to his neck. Defined clavicles, the long column of his throat and how it leads to the angled curve of his jaw. Eventually, your hand finds his face. His boyish features—handsome but youthful. Caleb leans into the touch. His usual, playful teasing nowhere to be found. It makes you jolt in surprise. His expression is painted by desire, a rosy flush to what's an otherwise perfect face.

His voice grows thick. An octave deeper than you’re used to. “Having fun?”

“Nn,” You shift under the weight of his gaze. “Sorry,”

“S’fine,” He says, pressing his cheek to your palm. “You can touch me however you want.”

Hearing it embarasses you. But your reply comes quickly. “You too,”

Caleb smiles shakily. His hand slides up your thigh. It’s slight, barely there. His hands are trembling.

“Can I kiss you?”

“We’ve kissed before,”

He shakes his head. “It won't be like before.”

“I don’t have any experience,”

Caleb laughs breathlessly. “I don’t care.”

You frown, but let yourself fall forward. Suddenly inches apart, your eyes widen. Caleb is staring at you this time. His eyes soaking in your expression, gaze falling onto your lips and staying there. They flicker back to yours for silent permission.

You meet his eyes completely assured. He swallows and cranes his neck, his hand coming up to your face to cradle it. His thumb traces your lips, inching himself closer and closer. You can hear his breath. Feel it on your face from how close you are.

Cupping your nape, he presses his lips to yours with unfathomable tenderness—undercut with the hottest flames of desires you’ve ever felt. It’s hard to describe it. All of the kisses you’ve ever had in your life have been Caleb’s, but this one really is different.

An unfamiliar desperation fills it despite being a gentle press of lips. He pulls away and you miss him. Try to chase it as he speaks against your mouth.

“Open your mouth, baby. Breathe through your nose,”

You listen to your older brother obediently, mouth parting as he leans in to kiss you again. Soft at first before pulling you down deeper into him by your. A moan escapes you subconsciously and you feel Caleb shiver. Eyes closed, you let him guide you through it. He controls the depth, the pace. You kiss deeply like that, holding each other before he pulls away again.

Every time you part, you feel a strange pang of sadness. Caleb never leaves you like that for too long

Your mind is hazy with desire as you fall into a pace with him. He breathes hard each time he pulls away from you, seems overwhelmed each time he kisses you again. Switching between deep kisses to chaste one, your lips throb from the overwhelming intensity of it. His mouth perfectly warm, lips soft and full. Wet as the kiss deepens but not unpleasantly. A tingly sensation that makes your skin prick.

You make a noise of surprise when Caleb slips his tongue against your mouth. But you don’t dislike it. Rather, out of curiosity, you copy him.

(A habit of your childhood—to copy your older brother and keep what you like from him as your own. )

Caleb inhales when you mirror him. Your eyes flicker open briefly to see his face, pleased by the draw of his eyebrows, before letting them close again.

There’s nothing intimidating about kissing Caleb. Every fear you harbor about how you should do it is washed away by the sheer force of your lust for one another. Like a gap of communication has finally been bridged—with your soft tongues sliding against each other, brushing against his palate, open mouth panting, subconsciously rocking your hips. Each second of doubt is brushed away by the overwhelming feeling of mutual, lovesick desire. It flows through your veins with more naturality than even your blood. Nothing more righteous, more sure.

You kiss like you’re telling him every secret you’ve ever kept—lips incapable of anything but honest confession. Holding onto each other in desperate, desperate necessity. A lifeline. A lifetime of holding it in, unraveling like the seconds couldn’t pass quickly enough to answer for it.

It feels like the beginning of devouring. You’ve never felt so hungry for something in your life. It gnaws at your conscious thoughts.

Desire simmers as you subconsciously settle your weight on Caleb’s lap, rocking your hips against the pleasant hardness meeting it. Not entirely sure of what it is your even touching. Caleb moans softly each time you do.

“Fuck,” Caleb pulls away finally. You whine and he laughs at you. Kisses you again, just once. “Shh, baby.”

“Nn, you don’t wanna kiss?” Your words come out slurred, even to your own ears.

“Not that I don’t want to, but you’re—” His laugh comes out higher, breathier. “Doing a little more than kissing,”

“Mm?”

He looks up at you. Amusement mixed with arousal. “You don’t even know what you’re doing, do you?”

“Feels good,”

“You’re this weak to a little pleasure,” Caleb says. His hands are hot as they squeeze your hips. “Can’t you feel what you’re sitting on?”

The question sobers you. Caleb hold you steady to stop you before changing the pace. Uses his strength to hold your hips down as he grinds you over the full length of his…

“Oh,” You’re startled. You’re grinding against—

“You’ve been grinding against my dick like that without thinking about it at all. Isn’t that dangerous?”

A shiver wracks through you. Caleb’s voice is husky, low when he says. It’s crass and to the point��something you could never imagine hearing him say. But now that you have heard it, it makes it feel like your whole body is melting. Sticky arousal climbs through your limbs, leaves your mind muddled as you moan. Shivering, you fall forward in his arms. He closes them around your back, grinding his hard-on against your clothed cunt. The way it catches on your clit so indirectly feels so good you could cum from it.

His lips find your face, your jaw. His kisses affectionate. “Feels good, huh?”

“Mmm,” You press your face to his neck. “Caleb,”

“Do you want to cum like this? Or do you want me to make you feel even better?”

“Better?”

“Yeah,” Caleb says, a promise. “Better. Promise. Do you want that?”

You nod. “I want it,”

“Gonna lay you on your back, okay?”

You make an affirmative noise as Caleb flips you on your spine with ease. Surprised by his strength again, you gasp a little as he turns you over until he’s over you. He kisses you sweetly.

Your head feels full. Too heavy on your shoulders. You want to put your tongue in his mouth again and you don’t feel all the way there. Caleb looms over you.

“You’re beautiful,” Caleb says, breathless. Your eyes go wide. “Really fucking beautiful,”’

“That’s…”

“I think it all the time. Want to say it to you all the time, but I never wanna scare you.” Caleb hums, a hand on your thigh.

“Why would that scare me?”

Caleb chuckles like it’s obvious. “You get skittish easily, you know? When I act less like your brother and more like…”

You finish the sentence for him with a pout. “My boyfriend?”

He hums like just hearing it feels good, eyes lidded. “Yeah. Like your boyfriend.”

“Well that’s….”

“Do I make you nervous?”

His expression is playful. Makes your stomach flip. Your hand finds the hem of his shirt.

“So what if you do?”

“It’d make me happy,”

“You want me to be nervous? How mean,”

He leans into your space. You kiss again and feel disappointed when it’s over. Were you always so desperate?

“Don’t put words in my mouth. It just feels good to know you think of me that way, yeah?”

Something about it, about him like this makes your stomach tie in knots. You make a face, head tilted trying to tempt him into doing what you want. Caleb knows without you speaking a word, always does. Dips his head down to appease, lips firm and steady. Soft and full enough to make you melt. Your arms around his neck, a little breathless, mewling at the way it makes it feel like there’s electricity in your skin.

“You really like kissing, huh,” Caleb says. He pulls away again. Casts a brief glance your way before he peppers kisses all across your face. Draws his lips down your jawline, hot and wet as he noses against your skin. He finds your pulse and darts his tongue across the sensitive skin of your neck.

You keen. It’s a sudden sound, sensitive. Your body shivers. Caleb makes an affirmative noise and does it again. Scrapes the same spot gently with teeth.

Another pitchy moan escapes your lips. Caleb breathes from his nose like laughter. Places more experimental bites and licks all along your neck. Your voice slips before you can catch it.

“Harder,”

He appeases you. Just like always. Feeling his teeth in your neck makes your mouth fall open and you moan his name like a small prayer.

His teeth leaves marks along your neck at your request, hands at your waist to hold you in place as you learn more about your body. You can feel your shorts dampen as he does it. It overwhelms you, makes you tremble with every light breath and every sordid bite. You don’t have any experience, have nothing tangible to compare it to except the things you did alone in your bedroom.

It doesn’t compare at all, though. No amount of relieving your sexual urges as a desperate teenager or fumbling against a stranger in a club even kind of helps your mind make sense of it. Caleb kissing and biting down your neck, his hands touching your skin—it’s the first time in your life you’ve ever felt it. First time you’ve known touch like this.

First time your mind has been rendered so useless to think.

He rests his mouth as his hands slide up your sides. You gasp slightly as they go underneath your shirt but you don’t make any move to stop it. Further and further they go until the reach for your back. Searching for something.

“You’re not wearing a bra,” He whispers..

“I don’t at home,”

He lets out a breath like the winds have been knocked out of him. “Right,”

“Are you into that?” You ask before you can stop yourself, surprised by the sound of your own voice. Caleb just laughs like he’s in disbelief.

“Take a guess,”

“I just don’t get it,”

Caleb doesn’t say anything to that. But his hands maneuver. Stopped just underneath the swell of your tits, his eyes look up at yours and ask for silent permission. His shoulders sag with relief when he receives it.

The way your chest fits in Caleb’s hands makes your breath hitch. Squeezing the fat of them, relishing how they feel between his palms. He’s quick after that, pulling your shirt up until it’s gathered underneath your neck. There’s an impatience to it that surprises you, something uncharacteristically lacking composure as he halfway undresses you.

His eyes linger like that for a long time. So long it makes your face burn.

“Stop staring,”

“...I don’t know if I can.”

There’s something like awe in his gaze. Your spine tingles, goosebumps appearing on his skin. The way his hands hold onto your waist. He presses his cheek just below your sternum with an loving sigh, kissing it as he picks his head back up. It’s sweet to the point it almost nauseates you. It might if it were anyone other than Caleb.

His thumbs draw over your nipples, hardened from arousal. Your chest rises and falls in anticipation, in ache. Thighs squeezing together in a silent admittance. His touch is experimental, careful in observing what elicits the most reaction out of you.

Chest tender, takes one of your nipples into his mouth without warning. You gasp, hand covering your mouth as you feel him smile against your chest.

The air shifts again. Hotter, heavier—there’s a sudden carnality to the way he’s touching you. Mouth latched onto your nipples tenderly, grazing them lightly with the blunt end of his incisors like he can guess everything you like. His mouth on your chest is overwhelming. It baffles you that something can feel that good. Each time you think you can’t be surprised any more, Caleb makes good on making you feel better and you’re forced to eat your words.

Between your legs is throbbing hard. Whatever Caleb can’t fit in his mouth, he teases with the rough pads of his fingers - brushing and squeezing and twisting. Alternating as to make sure nothing goes neglected. Your hips cant against air, frustrated by lack of friction. Caleb is relentless, but does not make any move to sate your growing desires.

“Caleb,”

His eyes are washed over as he looks up. A look on his face you don’t know, have never seen until now. His voice is low in the back of his throat, strong hands cupping your chest and squeezing.

“‘Mm?”

A sibling bond like this, you think, is to blame for understanding so quickly what Caleb wants. Something you know innately, deep in your subconscious that makes your cheeks grow hot. A hot, prickly feeling goes down your back and all your clothes suddenly feel restrictive. He sits and remains steadfast, but you can sense it too.

It feels good but something is missing. Something is off.

Despite his restless desire, he’s taunting you. Goading you. You groan and Caleb laughs.

“Don’t—Caleb. Please,”

“Did you want something?”

Another groan leaves your lips as his smile remains unfaltering.

“You promised you were gonna make it feel better,” You say, so petulant and childish to your own ears you wince.

Somewhat predictably, this works on Caleb right away. Overwhelming lust tucked carefully behind a thoughtful smile. “I did, huh?”

“Don’t be a jerk,” You reply. He laughs but not for long.

He has something flash on his face at your reply. You just kind of know. “Sorry, sorry,”

“Stop holding back.”

He looks surprised. “I’m not—”

You nudge him with your knee. “You are. You think I don’t know you? Didn’t you say you wanted me to see you differently? Stop acting like a cool older brother. It’s annoying,”

His expression is one of awe and amusement. It’s not quite that he’s irritated, but you can sense that you just barely get under his skin with the implication.

“Weren’t you the one who was crying about not wanting anything to change? Now you’re chiding me? You were acting so spoiled just a minute ago to get your way and now you’re saying you don’t want me acting like your big brother, hm?”

Your eyes widen at the change in character. It still feels like Caleb, but it’s so intense. Too sincere to be completely playful. A strange mix of lust, nerves and fear wash over you. “Just—”

He pushes himself back up to hover over you, swift as a hand cups your jaw, forcing your gaze up. Pure arousal shoots through your veins, almost unwittingly, as you catch sight of Caleb’s gaze. An vengeful quality to it.

“Meimei,” He says, and your breath hitches. Your head is clouded with the immoral lust of hearing it this way. “Your older brother didn’t teach you how to lie, right? If you want something, say it with your mouth. Say it clearly,”

A flush crawls onto your face, eyes darting away. Caleb allows you this much mercy. To let you look away feels kind.

It’s an uncomfortable sort of feeling. To acknowledge what desire, what reaction you’re seeking. It’s unfair, and childish - since Caleb has done nothing but love you from the very moment you met him. Kind, gentle, considerate—you love him so deeply that it hurts to breathe just thinking about all you’ve experienced.

Something about what you’re asking of him is ugly. Born of selfishness, the desire to have all of him, too.

“Ugh, just—stop saying you want me and show me,” You say, full of distress.

You see it in his eyes when something clicks.

And then, with a sudden force, he kisses you. It’s rougher than the ones previous, deeper, greedier. What you want. You moan into his mouth as Caleb licks at your lips, pulling away to kiss your cheek. Sweet as always.

“Don’t regret it,”

The change is immediate. In a way, he’s still just answering to your desires - but you don’t dislike this part of him. Your heart rate kicks up as Caleb strips you of your shirt completely before settling himself back down to where he started.

From just beneath your breasts, all the way down the place of your belly and navel - Caleb places hot, wet kisses to your skin. No longer languid but hurried, long fingers curling into the very edge of your waistband as he drops down further and further before settling between your thighs. He glances up at you when he begins to pull down your shorts but doesn’t ask you for permission and it makes you feel a strange thrill when he doesn’t.

Caleb tugs your shorts off and helps you wriggle out of them in one go - an audible groan escaping his mouth. Plain, tattered cotton panties hug your hips as you lay with your legs up. He nudges your thighs open as you place your feet flat on the bed. With your legs spread, your clothed cunt is readily visible.

He lets out a soft breath. When you look down, your eyes meeting—there’s something almost animalistic to him. A completely and utterly ruined expression, blush dusting across his nose and cheekbones.

“I want to make you feel as good as you can, okay?” Caleb says breathlessly.

He brings his mouth to your inner thigh, closer to your knee and places a sweet kiss on the skin. Both of his hands are gripping hard onto your hips, as he breathes in the scent over and over. It sets your body alight to see it in glimpses. His brow is furrowed as he sucks and bites sloppy hickies into the soft fat of your thighs - working his way up slowly. When he finds you properly marked on one leg, he repeats it on the other.

You can feel the ache of fresh bruises. A sensation that coaxes a completely new wave of arousal straight from the deepest depths of your body. An impossible wetness soaking the paper-thin cotton, sliding down the curve of your ass from how keyed up the touch makes you.

It’s less that he’s satisfied in his markings with you, more that his desire for you grows too heavy. Caleb stares at your pussy with eyes of pure, unmistakable reverence.

You have never been able to picture another human being looking at you the way he does.

So much ardor. So much bone-deep, blood-red voracity in a single gaze. The shakiness of his breathing, the harsh grip of his hands, that unsteady look in his eyes as his nose and mouth hover over the soaked panties over your pussy. As if you can see the words repeating in his mind: want, want, want. Nothing more certain.

Your whole body wracks with a shiver. You whimper with your hands fisted at your sides in anticipation.

A startled gasp escapes you as Caleb doesn’t do anything but press his nose firm to your pussy and breathe. Deep and unrepentant like he’s trying to memorize the scent of you, use it to track you like a bloodhound. Embarrassed warmth floods your system and you squirm in protest of his actions.

But you’re trapped there. Completely and utterly, rendered helpless by his gri. His eyes flicker up unfocused but quickly go back to being closed. It’s all the communication you need to know he intends to do exactly as you’ve begged him to do. To expose the extent of his unsavory appetite. Inhaling the scent of sweat and skin, of a day of lounging and leaving your pussy completely confined.

He looks so madly-in-love in the moment you find it hard to breathe even a word of protest. Your clit throbs unhelpfully in response.

Your mouth falls open in a silent scream when Caleb finally, finally drags his tongue over the seam of your panties. He doesn’t pull them off—instead sucking the wetness from the material. Puffy clit helplessly pulled into the force of it while trapped under your panties, you buck your hip up against his tongue. Caleb obliges you. He points the tip of his tongue and slides it over the small bud through the cotton - completely stiffened from arousal. You shake at the touch, the wet promise of pleasure. How the drenched fabric of your panties gives the most gratifying, mind-numbing friction. You moan loud. You can’t help the sound that leaves you when he licks your pussy.

You’ve never felt anything like it before. It’s the first time you’ve ever felt this way, but you’re under the impression that most people will never know a pleasure like this in their life.

When your underwear is completely saturated with spit - only then does Caleb let off from you. Without a single word of warning, he tugs away the material. Exposing your pussy, bare and throbbing - he blows warm air onto your clit and watches as you squirm.

Another beat of admiring before his mouth latches onto your pussy again. Panties tugged away haphazardly, his tongue sliding from wet hole all through the seam, the soft folds of your pussy - settling at your clit. He licks experimentally, wading through your moans. When his tongue tastes your clit just the right way, you practically scream.

With newfound dedication, he commits to worshipping your pussy with his mouth.

It’s humiliating. Purely euphoric and undeniably stimulating, boneless as Caleb’s tongue laps desperately at your clit. His eyes shut, completely blissful - brows furrowed and moaning into you. He eats you out like it’s what he’s wanted to do his entire life and this is the last opportunity he’ll have to make good on his dreams.

The corrupted thought lights fire under your body anew. To think of Caleb lusting for you when he shouldn’t be. Like a forbidden fruit, ripe and sweet and nearly his—nearly within his grasp but always just barely slipping between his fingers. Your kind, sweet, considerate older brother thinking of ruining your mind and body. The idea he’d been torturing himself over it makes you sad but more than that it incites impossible longing. You want him to want you even more than he does now.

You can feel your body ache for it for the first time. Like a reply to his feelings, you think of how good it will feel when Caleb finally fucks you. Takes you, plucks you from vine and claims you all for himself.

But the act of him tasting you like this is more than good. The tender bundle of nerves is throbbing hard against the wet flick of his tongue - hips rutting to meet the perfect motion of his mouth. Something in your belly warms. Sweetens your senses and melts you from the inside like crystalized honey coming to liquid sugar over a flame. Your mind has melted away so utterly you can’t do anything but reach your fingers through his hair and chant his name.

“Caleb,” Your voice is unfamiliar to you. Worked up beyond any rational understanding.. “Caleb, Caleb, Caleb.”

Closer and closer, Caleb remains completely persistent in his efforts. Licks your clit and laps up all the arousal that spills - silky fluid like ambrosia to the unending heat of his mouth.

The knot tangled inside of your body unravels with an alarming speed. Makes your eyes go wide before you shut them again hard, your spine arching off the bed - every muscle in your body going unbearably tense as Caleb’s tongue toys with your clit. The filthy sound of licking making your ears ring.

Your body goes taut. It feels like a calamity. A pure rapture, like God himself is bringing pleasure. The kind that can only be derived from being your maker. Caleb has that in common with him, you think.

Your voice rings loud, hands fisted in his hair. You’re cumming hard, and fast, and there’s white behind your eye-lids. Smatterings of bright stars as you press them shut.

You cum so hard you can’t breathe. For a brief moment you’re weightless before it all comes crashing down in one swift go. Caleb eats you out through it relentlessly and your voice breaks on the syllables of his name - asking for mercy and receiving none. It feels so good it terrifies you. Your body is trembling, cunt spasming around his tongue as Caleb continues his assault.

You feel something wet rush out of you but Caleb is undeterred. He drinks it all down, every last drop until he’s satiated at least some of his endless, terrifying thirst.

When he pulls away from your pussy, his mouth is soaked in saliva and your cum. He looked the most satisfied you’ve ever seen him in your life. You’ve never been so scared of someone while being so unbearably aroused in the same breath.

“You taste so fucking good. Better than I dreamed in my entire life. Need to taste it again. I almost don’t want to do anything else.” He laughs breathlessly. “Almost.”

“Caleb,” You whimper. completely helpless as you try to catch your breath. “Fuck, ‘m still cumming,”

“Gonna make you cum over and over and over.” Caleb says cheery. “Promise,”

After cumming the first time, your body's sensitivity increases tenfold. Where you think it’ll cool off the glaring heat, melting you down to your core - all it does is turn it higher, make the feeling more tangible. Caleb’s offer to make you cum again excites you more than it scares you. You stare at him when he comes up for air.

“Kiss?”

“Even after all that?”

You nod sheepishly.

“Jeez. How cute can someone be?”

He comes up for a kiss, surprised when you lick into his mouth. You like tasting yourself on him, tongue dipping in for more. Caleb smiles at your enthusiasm, eyes lidded when he pulls away.

“Open your mouth,”

You give him a blank stare but do as he says. He puts a hand on your throat, tipping your head back before you feel something warm hit your tongue. Your eyes meet Caleb’s in surprise, instinctively swallowing the spit as it slides down your throat. Caleb meets you with an eager kiss, a gentle affection in his voice. “Good girl.”

Something washes over you hearing the praise. A soft moan into his mouth that leaves Caleb with raised brows. “You like hearin’ you’re my good girl, huh?”

Your face feels hot. “...Maybe,”

“Still so bad at lying, pipsqueak. Some things never change,”

The affection in his voice makes you forgive him. You know the tone, the sound—the lilting coo of your older brother's voice when he’s teasing you. It’s a way of speaking you could recognize in a heartbeat, the kind of voice that you’re anxious without. It shouldn’t soothe you in this context, shouldn’t make your pussy feel so achy when you know exactly how he’s addressing you.

Caleb kisses down the length of your body again. Neck to navel until he settles down between your thighs. You can’t mask your surprise. Caleb looks up at you from between your legs.

“What? You thought one time would be enough for me?”

Truthfully, yes. You’re a little startled at the thought he’s going to do it again. Make you feel all of that again. An anticipatory shiver makes you squirm but Caleb holds you in place. He presses another kiss to your clit. “One time doesn’t even come close to being enough.”

True to his word, Caleb starts the process all over again.

The second time around, he doesn’t let himself up to breathe. You’re locked in place as his increased familiarity with your body has him driving you over the edge even faster. Firm grip on your thighs, face buried between your legs - he laps at your clit for what feels like an endless amount of time. The pleasant warmth of his mouth paired with the focused, precise licks on your sweet spot make your body wrack with an impossible pleasure. It’s gentle enough to not be completely overstimluating - but his endurance, his persistence in doing it makes your experience a new high. A trembling mess of limbs and quiet, desperate pleas. Too much, too fast - toes curled as he hoists your legs over his shoulders to give him full access. Clit pulsating, stiff under his tongue with his nose bumping occasionally.

It feels so good you’re almost content to let him stay there. Let your mind wash away and succumb to the gluttony tying you to the bed. You cum twice again from the pressure - your body experiencing each one longer. Unable to withstand it, your hands clenched tight trying to level yourself with the feeling. A pleasure you’ve never experienced, the kind you doubt you’d be able to feel with someone else.

Caleb has always been like this in that respect. Your older brother who set the standard for every other man you ever came across. You were always using him as the gold standard, comparing every man you’ve ever met to him. Especially ones who claimed to like you. What would your brother do, how would he act, how would he treat you. He’d never tell you if you were too much. Never call you spoiled even when you act it, embody it so why settle for less? Why want for something else? For someone else?

It’s not surprising that Caleb touches you with the same level of care he’s always given you. Even less surprising that your body longs for it so desperately.

Caleb is your big brother after all. He takes care of you like this. No one else gets to have it. It makes you entitled, moody, and emotional just to think of him acting this way with someone who isn’t you.

Yearning and deep affection well up inside of you as these things cross your mind. Whisper to your longing as a deep, endless need overwhelms your mind. Your third orgasm steals the breath out of your lungs. A shockwave of emotions washes over you, as you tug at his hair. You let out a throaty whine.

“Caleb,” You whimper, pulling him off. “Caleb,”

Attuned to your emotions, Caleb is quick to pull away when he hears the audible distress. He pulls away from you, worried. “Shhh, hey. It’s okay, I’m here. Did you want to stop?”

You shake your head rapidly. Caleb gives you a small smile. “Just being a crybaby, then?”

The truth is, yes, just a little. You can’t voice this to Caleb so you instead give him some unknowable, unreadable look. He reads it almost instantly, shifting himself to hug you tight. Without any words at all, like he knows every single thought that passes through your mind. You wrap your arms around him and nudge your nose against his neck. He smells familiar.

“This what you wanted?”

You nod against him. Caleb’s heartbeat is steady in a way that brings you bone deep comfort.

“Be more pampered with me. More selfish, more demanding, more spoiled. Gege will do anything for you, so don’t hesitate.”

Hearing him refer to himself that way makes your stomach flip. You nuzzle yourself deeper into him, aroused by the sound of his laughter - playful but smug. You speak against his chest, words muffled.

“Want it inside right now,”

His breath hitches immediately. “Yeah?”

Another nod. You pull away to look him in the eyes when you ask. You know how to beg Caleb for something. You’ve been doing it your whole life, and right now is the most sincere you’ve ever been. Doe-eyed and full lips, all covetous and coy the word falls from your mouth with ease.

“Please,”

It has the exact impact on him you want it to have. Groaning, the outline of his cock twitching with a shameful lust, almost blanking out at the thought. He scrubs a hand over his face.

“You’re gonna kill me,”

“Please,” You repeat. Caleb kisses you as if to stop you from saying it again.

“I have to stretch you out on my fingers. It’ll hurt otherwise,” You open your mouth but Caleb cuts you off. “Don’t say it’s fine.”

“Caleb,” You whine and he laughs sympathetically.

“Be a good girl,” He placates, and it works on you just as maddeningly as your begging does on him. “Hm? For me?”

You melt. How embarrassing.”...Fine,”

He coos at you lovingly and you make no effort to deflect. You can’t. Your usual fire and wit, your banter is dissipated. Brain thoroughly undone from so many orgasms and the deep, aching want in your cunt - so apparent it makes you want to sob. A desperation to be full that you didn’t fathom existing in such a bodily way, something you thought only existed in porn.

Sensing how strung out you are, Caleb changes positions again. Instead of laying between your legs, he curls up besides you. He turns on his side, sliding an arm underneath and hugs your body close to him. Like he’s cradling you. Your legs slot together, one of yours between both of his - your other leg on the outside. Caleb hikes your thigh up - high enough to have your legs spread. The arm not supporting your back is supporting you, his forearm underneath your thigh.

At this angle, you’re face to face. Caleb can see you clearly as he cradles you in his arms. A large hand squeezes your ass before reaching around - teasing your clit with long fingers.

You feel…small like this. It’s the way you’re being held. The feeling of Caleb’s arm under your back, sliding up to hold your neck.

His fingers are exceptionally long. Slender and thin, with thick veins from wrist to pinky, more appearing less visibly to the rest. His palms are big- making up the bulk of their size. You feel yourself fixating on them in their movements.

On the calluses on them from handling guns, to the few thin scars from your childhood that have remained on his body into adulthood - now scarred. The way his fingers caress you, stroke your clit slowly. He kisses you again with a silent question like: you like this, right?

The eagerness of your tongue into his mouth answers it for him, a puppy keen on greeting it’s owner. Caleb laughs sweet into your mouth, encouraging you with all the kindness he has in him. His fingers slides through your slick folds impressed until he reaches low enough to be at your hole.

You’ve put your own fingers in there before. You think you can handle someone elses.

You find out fast that you can’t.

Caleb’s fingers are long. They’re thicker than yours, and longer than yours - and just the first one gives you a stretch you're not expecting. You shudder, a noisy breath. It’s an intrusion, a noticeable one. Caleb is careful, though. It’s easy for him to push the digit it when you’re so wet inside. A soft squelching noise makes your skin burn hot but Caleb goes on undisturbed.

His finger reaches deep. He fucks it in so slowly and so carefully but it feels like it never ends. All the down to the knuckle with just the one, you find yourself shuddering. Caleb is quiet, but you can hear the labor in his breaths. Feel his cock pressed against your inner thigh and twitch.

You moan his name instinctually - not for any particular reason and he says nothing. Just thrusts his finger in and out. How can something feel so different on the basis it’s someone else? You can’t hold still, rocking your hips against the sensation. Caleb groans unabashed.

“You want it so bad, huh?” He says, half-delirious and so pleasantly smug. You nod immediately.

“A little more. Hang in there, okay?”

Okay, you think. You’d do whatever it takes in the moment for Caleb to fuck you more quickly so you bite in the side of your cheek and try not beg stupidly each time he repeats the process. Another finger, longer than the last - stretching out, reaching deeper than anything has ever gone in your life, thrusting until your pussy takes it. It surprises you to know just how much you can take when you take three and you really feel it. How soft it is inside.

“Enough,” You whisper hoarsely.

Caleb doesn’t heed your request. Another finger goes in. It takes four for him to finally feel like it’s enough. Four fingers stroking from the inside out, an almost brutal precision curling against your g-spot. Not enough to cum, just enough to get so wet he can’t pull his fingers out without the filthiest noise you’ve ever had to follow it.

Completely out of your mind, you grab onto him weakly. Every ounce of shame and sense gone.

“Caleb,” Your voice is a pant. “Fuck me. Please, please—just do it,”

His own voice is no better than yours. “Gotta grab a condom from my—”

Your voice is vicious. Like you’re lashing out at him. “No. Fuck me.”

Caleb is quieted by it. Unsure of how to react. “Don’t be like that, baby.”

A reprimand. Soft as ever. Tears well up in your eyes immediately. “Please hurry,”

“We have to use a condom next time, okay?”

You hear nothing that comes out of his mouth except the words next time, and nod.

He gives in. You’re thankful he always does. You’re at your wits end and you don’t know if your body can handle any more waiting. Not getting what you want with Caleb unsettles and upsets you. Especially this strung out.

Caleb rolls onto your back again after he pulls his fingers out. You whine at the loss, unwittingly falling onto your back with both legs open. Presenting yourself in some impossibly obedient way that you can’t catch quick enough to stop, knees bent and up in the air. Waiting impatiently for Caleb to follow.

He follows suit moments later. His hand resting on your knees to spread your legs for him, taking in an eyeful of you as he stands on his own.

At the angle you’re laying and with nothing to distract your senses - you can see Caleb in full shape. Your body responds in kind for you, throbbing between your legs as you cut his figure. Tall and strong and broad, visible muscles and deltas. There are veins above the lowcut of his waistband, thick and tempting. A little lower than that - a patch of dark hair that leads to…

Your throat feels dry seeing Caleb’s cock standing to attention, just underneath his sweatpants. Eyes blinking rapidly trying to make sense of it. How it strains, a wet patch where it ends. Your breathing slows significantly. Your mouth watering, mind fizzling like a bottle of champagne. The ache in you urges deeper, hand going between your legs to soothe it. Or maybe welcome what's coming.

Caleb is breathless. Amusement undercut by lasciviousness. “Enjoying the view?”

You nod stupidly. Caleb grins a little. Makes a show of hooking his thumb into the top of his sweats and tugging all the way down. A thick trail of hair and the smooth, uncut outline of his cock has you gasping. When he tugs his pants all the way pas his thigh, you feel completely speechless.

He’s huge. Utterly. Too heavy to stand on its own, uncut, veiny. You blink in disbelief, like everything in the room has paused. It’s burly. Ridiculous. Thick enough to look like someone’s forearm. Pearls of pre-cum dribble of out of the tip, pulled back to be revealed. A ruddy reddish brown and angry. It’s darker then the rest, throbbing in a way that looks almost painful. It’s not the first time you’ve seen it but that was on accident in a bath before it was—

You stop your train of thought and just stare for an unknown amount of time.

He looks sheepish. The tips of his ears crimson red, all the way down to his chest. You make an unintelligible noise at the sudden change in attitude and also at everything else.

A sensible person would feel fear. Not your strong suit. You don’t know if it’s bravery or lust that inspires the reaction in your body. You just know you want him to fuck you so bad you might jump on him to get it.

“We don’t have to get in today, princess. We’ve got time to—”

“If you try to deter me one more time I’m going to run away from home,”

Caleb closes his mouth. He just mumbles something, but obliges you right after.

In what can only be considered a miracle, Caleb finally settles between your legs. His hands are on top of your thighs as he taps his tip against your clit, rubbing the pre-cum into the mess, The feeling of skin on skin elicits a gasp out of you both. His voice is shaky.

“Might not last,” He says hoarsely

“S’fine.” You put a hand between your legs and spread your pussy open for him a little wider. A move from porn that works on him instantly. He swears hard under his breath, not giving himself a chance to indulge in the feeling long.

Tip nudging through slick folds—Caleb finally, finally slides in.

Another synchronised moan, sweat breaks out onto your skin as you feel the thick tip of Caleb’s cock finally come through. You feel full. It’s completely different from four fingers, more invasive on your body than ever. .

It elicits a chain reaction. You watch Caleb above you, death grip on your hips trying to keep his composure and not fuck a hole through you. A horrible part of you almost wants him too, even knowing you absolutely wouldn’t be able to take it.

You’re trembling. It feels ridiculous but you’re so worked up that -

“Gonna c-cum,”

Caleb’s eyes blow wide. “From—fuck. That ain’t fair, you can’t,”

You buck your hips up and groan. He’s stretching you out so fucking good. One more time and it’ll hit that spot and it’ll feel so perfect, so right. You need it. Caleb shakes over you.

“Mercy,” He says, not sober enough to laugh. You’re going to lose your mind soon. Maybe you already have.

“I-s it all in?”

“Half,” Caleb grunts. You moan at the thought.

“Fuck me. Shit, please,” Your voice breaks high on the last syllable. Caleb looks like he wants to protest, wants to tell you to take it slow. But you can see it in his face that he’s reached his limits. Or maybe he reached them a long time ago and he’s already far gone.

But he listens. Your jaw goes slack and he pushes in. Inch by tortuous inch until you feel him bottom out. Feel his hips on the back of your thighs. His cock is throbbing inside of you, silken walls clinging onto the shape like you’re being pried open. It doesn’t take anything. He shifts as he bottoms out and your voice comes out in garbled, unintelligible noise.

“O-oh, ‘m cumming, cumming, ngh,” Your back arches up that leaves your mind blank. Completely white out, nothing but static as you cum again. Cum around the hard, intrusive length of your older brothers cock - bullying into your cervix until it’s wet and pliable and fuckable for him. Stretching out like it’s his to shape and mould. You can feel it in your body, each vein and each curve. Caleb lets out a whistle. Sharp and so fucking dark, it exicites you helplessly.

“She’s clingy just like you,” He says, fond but sneering.

Your head spins when it dawns on you on what he’s saying.

“Caleb—”

“I feel conflicted. Are you naturally this gifted?” He laughs, folding over you. Overtaken by something. Bending you under his weight. “Or is it because it’s mine that you’re making it so easy?”

“I was worried, you know,” He pulls out. The disappointment and gaping emptiness are brief. You hear the way your body refuses him pulling out. “Worried about how such a tight hole would fit something so big. Worried about your body, but you’re taking me in so fucking well. So perfect,”

You’re panting. It feels so good. Your tongue feels heavy in your mouth, limp under the weight of it as Caleb gives you a slow few thrusts to get you used to the size. But you’re so stretched and sensitive it just feels fucking incredible from the jump.

“Be a good girl and let me in.” You clench down on him. He grins to himself. “That’s it,”

He bottoms out again. Slams hips and fucks you in one swift, unforgiving motion. Groaning, he puts his hands up under your knees, driving his dick into you with animalistic need.

“Your pussy feels so fucking good. Too good. I’m never gonna be able to think about anything else. It’s not like I was before but you’re-” Out, back in. You haven’t made a single coherent sound. “You’re just too good. It’s warm and wet and still so tight, how are you still so tight, huh? It’s like you don’t want me to leave.”

For a brief moment, the two of you make eye contact. The vivid color of his eyes burns bright, pins you underneath the weight of his gaze. It goes straight to your stomach, making it flip in one smooth go.

“Tell me it’s okay,” Caleb says, barely restraining himself.

You look up at him confused. He suddenly looks like he’s at his wits end.

“Tell me it’s okay to fuck you hard,”

Like a woman possessed, you reach your arms around to squeeze his back and biceps. You put your mouth close to his ear as you bring him down towards you.

“Gege,” He twitches inside of you. “Fuck me as hard as you can,”

You underestimate just what effect it’ll have on you. On him. As quick as he possibly can, he pushes his hands under your knees and folds you into a mating press so deep it makes you scream. He’s pistoning you instantly, pounding into your pussy like he owns. Your nails dig into the muscles of his shoulders without realizing.

“I love you,” are the only words that come out of his mouth. It has you clenching down even harder. “Gege loves you more than anyone else in the world, okay? More than anyone.”

Just like that, Caleb fucks you. Given up on being gentle but still trying to make you feel good, trying to touch somewhere no one ever will again - he folds you up under the weight of his body and fucks you with relentless stamina. Your mind is gone. His cock is fat and heavy inside of you, splits your pussy open as the tip knocks against your g-spot with each thrust. His balls smack against your ass on each go.

It’s too much. For your brain, for your body, for your insides - getting permanently rearranged like he’s crushing your womb. A feeling like it should be painful, but it isn’t because he’s got you so good and open. This a reward for you both. For his patience. Every thought wrung from your head, impressed by your body’s own avarice for cock. Addicted to the feeling of getting strethed, gaped completely open. It feels like you’re cumming without a clear end.

Wanting Caleb to cum inside of you is a distant thought. Pleasant like a lullaby as your body yearns for it. Another sharp orgasm builds. It builds and builds and builds - and you know’re going to be fucked through it again.

But this time Caleb is close. Right alongside you. Sweating and panting in your ear as he pounds into your frenzied.

His voice comes out like a whine and it turns you on even more. You say it before he can think of pulling out, tightening your legs around his waist.

“Cum in me,”

Caleb grinds himself deeper. “Gonna cum in you, baby. I love you, I love you—fuck!”

Pure euphoria floods your entire nervous system as Caleb bottoms out one last time. His cum fills your pussy in thick, long spurts. It feels hot as it takes, makes you shiver with how it feels. Disappointed at the idea it’ll flood back out.

Caleb, still balls deep - continues suddenly. Where you think he’s gonna pull out, he doesn’t. Instead he fucks you again, this time more clear-headed as he rubs your clit - a hand between your bodies. His voice is shot.

“Sorry. Don’t wanna be selfish. One more nice and easy, then we’ll clean up?”

You have no room to protest. After all, Caleb is nothing but relentless when it comes to spoiling you. You let him fuck another orgasm out of you until you’ve got nothing left to give.

He collapses on top of you after your pussy milks what's left of him

You kiss when he does, sweaty and tired. You look at his blissed out face and kiss his nose with affection.

“I love you too, Gege.”

He pauses then laughs. Brightly. Hopelessly.

“You’re gonna be the death of me,”

You aren’t sure when exactly you pass out.

You remember lingering with Caleb in his bed before limping into the bathroom. And a bath too, if your memory serves you right. You must’ve fallen asleep in the tub with Caleb, the broad warmth of his chest lulling you right to sleep. You’ve got good endurance from being a hunter, but you’re tuckered out just thinking about earlier.

Also a little embarrassed.

You wake on the couch of the living room. Cleaned, changed, and tucked into with a blanket over you. There’s a scent and the quiet sizzle of a pan. Your limbs feel heavy as you pick your head up. It’s still dark out but it seems like morning.

You rub your eyes as you swing your legs over and place them on the floor.

Standing to your feet, you find slippers at the end of the couch and feel your heart swell ten sizes. You put them on before padding into the kitchen.

Caleb is at the stove like you thought he’d be. You flush seeing his back covered in scratches and a bite or two - none you remember leaving. You know your body is in the same state if not worse.

You walk up to him and wrap your arms around his middle, pressing your face against his broad back. Your voice is small, embarrassed. Everything feels brand-new.

“G’morning,”

Caleb turns the heat down and puts the spatula on the counter top, turning to face you. He looks down at you with a boyish grin. Unfairly handsome, making you pout.

“Morning, sleepyhead. Feel okay?”

You tuck your face into his chest and nod. “Just a little tired. I don’t hurt or anything.”

“That’s good, then,”

You make a little mm sound and stay there for a while. Caleb is content to hug you until you pull away.

“Caleb?”

“Hm?”

Your face feels warm. “...Kiss?”

He stops, then beams. Dips his head down to catch your lips in a kiss that feels romantic and practiced, but doesn’t make you feel strange in a bad way. You’ve never had a boyfriend, not a real one. Does everyone feel butterflies like this?

Maybe there’s something wrong with you. He pulls away and presses a kiss to the corner of your mouth.

“You’re less moody than you usually are when you wake up,” Caleb teases. “Good to know. An effective way to deal with your attitude is always welcome.”

You frown at him, feeling furious for more reason than embarrassment. It’s really unfair how flirtatious he is. “Shut up,”

Subconsciously, your hands are fisted as you cling to Caleb’s chest. With no shirt to hold onto you, your muscle memory finds it the most steady. They’re clenched hard from embarrassment and a flood of other feelings you need soothed.

Caleb grabs your hand and unfurls them for you. Strong, warm, big hands grasp yours in their palm and open them both softly - fingers interlocking until you’re no longer so tense. Just melted away.

“I’m right here,” He says. A wave of emotions passes over you.

You hold his hand and squeeze it. Once, twice - it has a steadiness the grip of fabric doesn’t.

You smile to yourself. Helplessly happy. Overwhelmed with pure, unrelenting love.

“Yeah,” You say, more to yourself than anyone else. “You are,”

#caleb x reader #love and deepspace x reader #caleb smut #love and deepspace smut #lads x reader #lads smut #writing tag #psuedocest cw #incest cw #this is super vanilla. but of course there is incest sdkjfsd

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littleapplle · 1 month ago

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gege, help!!

you're afraid you'll finish highschool without knowing how to kiss. don't worry though, caleb gege always has a solution. - 1.9k w. not proofread srry</3 cw.: a single mention of deepthroating, mentions of masturbation and fingering, dry humping, caleb is called gege, caleb calls you little apple, pipsqueak, good girl and baby, implied cunnilingus at the end ig..

Caleb thinks that at some point in his childhood, the line where what he thought was fraternal love finished, and his boyish hunger for you started blending dangerously close.

Even though he was only a year older, he was always in charge of taking care of you while grandma was busy.

Your cutesy backpack is too heavy for you to carry after school? Gege can handle it. It’s raining and the dark skies are roaring too loud? Gege will cover your ears while you bury your chubby cheeks on his neck. Some ugly kids at school made fun of the piggytails he did on your hair? Oh don’t worry, gege will have a little chat with them.

While you two were still young, him being eight years old and you seven, it came off just as his helpful, cool, big brother act but as you two grew, grandma’s eyes were always peeled open and focused on Caleb’s movements. Oh do not get me wrong, she loved him, yes, but she knew there was something rotten in eighteen years old Caleb’s mind.

You weren’t gege’s little apple anymore, your style was different, you grew a little taller, you didn’t need Caleb’s help to brush your hair anymore, nor did you need to bury your face in his beefy arms to muffle the disturbing noises of storms. You two were still close, he walked you to your classes, helped you with stem exams –he insisted on helping because it was, not so secretly, his way of showing off– , he listened to your complaints about your friends and girly gossip.

You two were close, always have been, but he notices that during bedtime, your lips press a little longer on his cheek before you go to your room. When you hug him from behind all he can focus on is on your boobs squished between you two. You grew. Caleb doesn’t know if that triggers a bitter taste under his tongue or if it ignites an overwhelming heat on his lower stomach.

You were a pretty little thing, of course other boys in your class probably- no- definitely eyed you with malice. Oh he feels dizzy. His baby apple? Being thirsted over by other men? Nuh uh.

Things go bad bad when you’re complaining about your ‘girl problems’ sprawled in his bed with your tummy down. If he had to be honest, he wasn’t paying attention, his back faced you as he sat on his desk, focused on his physics problems. His brain shuts down once you mention something in particular.

“-So yeah, i dunno if i’ll go on the date. I don’t want my first kiss to be with a random highschool boy.” You sigh while burying your face in his pillow. Did they ever smell this good?

If his back wasn’t turned to you, you’d definitely be able to see his brain trying to process the information.

He repeats quietly. “Date?”

“Well yeah- ah Caleb! Pay attention to what i’m saying!” You groan. “The situation is tragic! I don’t wanna leave highschool without a single kiss” Then, a dramatic cry escapes your throat. He knows what you’re doing. “I dun’ wanna kiss a random boy though.”

“Kiss me then.”

He spins on his chair to finally face you, calmly staring at your body. Your pajama shorts cling to your ass stupidly tight, he is surprised grandma hasn’t nagged at you to throw it out yet. The words slip from his lips with a little too honesty, a little too quick, a little too eager and the moment you notice he isn’t joking you jump on the mattress.

“Caleb!” You cry out, “I’m serious. Like, serious, serious!”

“You wanted a solution, i gave you one, pips.” He shrugs.

He can see that for a moment, you consider it before shaking your head quickly. “It’s wrong!”, is what you claim and it only makes that rotten streak in him grow a little stronger. The thought of having this kind of little secret between you two, you in his bed whining so cutely in such… indecent outfit. Caleb feels his cock twitch in his boxers eagerly.

“It’s only wrong if you tell grandma.” He counters. “You want a kiss, i offered you one. Nothing wrong with that, pipsqueak.” You hate how his words sound too sweet, dripping from his tongue with honey. You wanted to deny it just a little longer but your cunt betrays you the second you think about your old fantasies about him.

You swore to yourself you’d never think about it again, punishing your mind for thinking about Caleb while stuffing your fingers in your virgin cunt. You promised yourself every time it was the last time you’d pinch your clit under your pink duvet while thinking about how big gege’s hands were and how he manhandles you around effortlessly when you two are roughhousing.

Or quietly watching porn on your phone, locked in the bathroom, wondering what does gege like- what would he do to you. Was his cock bigger than the ones you’ve seen in cheap porns? Would he stuff your throat roughly even if you cried and tapped on his thigh for mercy? Or would he finger you until your legs shaked and you squirted- could you even do that?

Last time my ass.

It all rises to the surface too quickly. Your head, once buried in his pillow- and scent-, snaps back up to look back at him. “What if i mess up though?” And to your pouty lips and meek voice, Caleb has to hold back so his eyes don’t roll to the back of his skull.

“Gege will teach you, then.”

Your brain doesn’t register what comes next, foggy with need you didn’t know was so bad. The wheels on his office chair glide quickly on the floor and in a second, he pulls you to his lap.

He knows he should be subtle about it, grandma is just a bedroom away from grounding them forever, but it feels so right- and you don’t fight it. So, if there were any lines Caleb ever crossed, it’s okay because you did the same, no? It’s not so bad.

You get shaky when you’re embarrassed. He knows that. The way your figure trembles like a leaf on his lap makes his head spin, his only wish is that you don’t notice how hard he is under you. Trying to keep his composure, he licks his lips.

“We can start slow, m'kay? You trust gege, don’t you baby apple?” He coos, looking at you through his lashes and blinking innocently, his lilac eyes hiding danger behind his puppy-like behavior.

At your little childish nod and flushed cheeks, Caleb groans but continues, leaning closer to your face. “Can i, baby?” The hair on your nape stands up at the feeling of his hot breath so close to your face. Your lips part in a failed attempt to say something. Embarrassed, your hands, once clawing at your thighs’ skin nervously, cover your face shyly.

He pouts. “Oh no, baby… no hiding. ‘S just gege, baby apple. There’s nothing to be embarrassed about. I know everything ‘bout you already, don’t i, baby? Relax.” Caleb reassures softly, holding your wrists down with his hands so he can look at your distressed face.

Finally, you nod along to his first request. Caleb’s vision goes white.

Letting your wrists go, his hand slithers to the back of your neck, holding your head in place while the other rests on your waist, pressing your clothed core down on his boner. He grunts before finally pressing a gentle peck to your soft lips to see your reaction.

You lean in closer, hands turning into fists and holding onto his shirt, eyes fluttering close to avoid more embarrassment. You do the same, mimicking his movements and sealing his lips with a shy kiss.

Caleb smiles proudly against your lips, tilting his head to give a kiss to the corner of your lips and blow raspberries on your pink cheeks, igniting a girlish giggle from you. Sweet praises drip from his tongue with care and need, making your body grow hotter. “See pips? Nothing intimidating. Y’er doing so good, baby apple, can we go further?”

You peek through your fluttering lashes and there they are again, his lilac eyes look a little darker now but stare at you with the same need and want from before. “Please.’’

His lips meet yours again in a hungry kiss. A little surprised moan escaping your mouth is all he needs to swipe his tongue on your bottom lip before nibbling on it teasingly. His hips twitch up like a horny teen desperate for contact and all you can do is reciprocate with the same feeling, humping your clothed pussy on the tent in his sweats.

Your still shaky hands snake from his chest to his face, clinging to it as if you were afraid that if you let go, he’s going to slip away through your fingers and vanish forever. Meanwhile, his own hand, once on your waist holding you in place, slithers under your pajama top to feel your skin.

Caleb is grateful that your eyes are closed and can’t see how his purple hues roll back at any small touch. To finally feel you, be engulfed in your smell, to hear your awkward whines of embarrassment… He feels pathetic. He knows he should stick to the cool “older” figure a little longer but his mind is just so foggy with the thought of having you even if just for a moment.

You pulling away for air makes him whine, the stronger hand in your nape pushing your face closer to his for another kiss. This time, his tongue finally meets yours, provoking a moan to escape your lips for the nth time.

It’s messy, of course, but he doesn’t care. He can practice with you all day long if that’s what you wish. You shoot your best shot, sucking on his tongue unsurely but still trying to match his pace.

“Mgh- good girl, baby. Doing s’good f’me-” Caleb praises out of air, his lips never far from yours.

“C-caleb!-” You stutter and pant as the hand under your top squeezes your boob, the fat fitting just right under his big palm. You squeal at the moment he pinches your nipple, the sensation new, but not bad.

“Gege, baby apple. No Caleb, m'kay? Miss you calling me that.” He tuts and gives you a last, affectionate peck before rising from the chair none of you noticed squeaking under so much weight and movement.

Instinctively clinging to his torso as he walks around the hot room, Caleb plops you on his bed. You trust Caleb enough to not bother to open your eyes but curiosity bubbles inside you when you don’t feel his weight on the mattress beside you.

Caleb kneels down on the floor, pulling your legs just a little closer to the edge of the bed and parting them. A smile blooms in his face. He takes notes to buy you more of these stupidly tiny shorts. Your pussy, drenched enough to stain not only your frilly, pink panties but also the fabric of your pj’s, stares back at him, he swears his mouth waters at the sight.

“Baby, can gege show you something else? But promise you’ll stay quiet f’me.”

Caleb wasn’t sure when but he was sure that he crossed a line he shouldn’t have. And that his hots for you weren’t just a boyish hunger.

uhm is this anything...

#.littleapplle's pastries #caleb x reader #xia yizhou #caleb x you #lads x reader #love and deepspace x reader #love and deepspace #caleb xia #caleb x mc #lads caleb #caleb smut #lads smut

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xavierfan · 3 months ago

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SIZE? [CALEB / X.YZ]

warnings: size kink, explicit content, sexual content, pseudocest i guess (i use gege, but as a chinese person i lowkey do not think it's pseudocest but i will still tag it as such...), zayne mentioned, caleb's a fucking freak

summary: quick little blurb about caleb cause he's a freak like me ^^

it wasn't a surprise to find out about caleb's affinity with size in the bedroom. after all, you did grow up with him constantly telling you just how small you were compared to him, him always comparing the sizes of your hands, and him constantly wrapping his fingers around you wrists.

it's just you hadn't expected it to be such a big turn on for him, with the first time you made a comment about how he was so big making him cum on the spot. it hasn't gotten much better since then, instead he now begs you to tell him how big he is, how only he can reach that spot that you like, and how his cock is the only one your plush cervix has ever kissed. he loves pushing his cock into you fully, only to see the bulge he creates in your stomach, pressing down on your soft fleshy abdomen as his hips grind deeper into you, his hips snapping occasionally from just how good you feel.

he loves telling you just how tight you feel, his jaw clenching so hard when you tell him that he's just huge, and how he just fucking disappears into your sopping cunt. his jaw slacks every time as he watches himself sink into you— the sight is just so erotic to him.

"fuuuck," he draws out as he hears you whimper from him putting the tip into your soaking hole, his voice is gravelly as he's taunting you, "fuck, pipsqueak, i'm barely in you, you can't already be whimpering"

you jut your bottom lip out in a pout as you push yourself against caleb, your cunt sucking him in, groaning from the stretch, "ngh, you're just so big... even just the tip is so so good."

to you it's just babble, coherent thought being long abandoned, but to caleb this was like a siren's song. immediately plunging his entire length into you, his balls slapping against the backsides of your legs. he has his hands on the back of your knees to keep them up, alternating between hot and messy kisses with your swollen lips and biting, sucking, and licking at a spot just above your ankles.

"fuck. when'd you learn to talk like this, pip?" he thrusts into you between each word, grunting the question out. his grip tightens on the back of your thighs to the point where there will definitely be a bruise tomorrow but he's happy with that, seeing you all marked up by him.

all you can respond with is a whimper, the fullness causing you to be unable focus on coming up with a quip to respond with, instead you reach your arms around your legs, hooking around them to keep them up yourself. giving caleb better access to drill into you harder, deeper, faster.

instead of feeling his thick tip abusing your cervix, you felt empty. a whine leaving your mouth as caleb slaps his member against your pussy, using his hand to angle his cock in a way where his tip was brushing against your swollen clit. going back and forth between the actions of slapping and soothing your pussy with his cock.

"c'mon pip, tell your gege where you learned this from? who you learned this from?" he asked as he hovered over your body, admiring the view of you holding yourself open for him, "was it zayne? tell me i'm bigger than him baby, tell me only i can make you feel this good..."

you shake your head, your brows knitted together, and your voice shakey, "n-no one gege."

"oh? so you're just a natural fucking slut?" a smirk playing on his lips as he shakes his head, pushing his tip against your entrance, never entering, teasing you, "gran would be so disappointed..."

you groan at his comments, drool pooling at the edge corner of your mouth. when caleb's eyes see the light reflect off the dribble of spit, he cusses, his balls squeezing as he closes his eyes. he just can't believe how good you look under him, how small and meek compared to your usual boisterous and brave appearance, it causes him to dig the heels of his palms into the sockets of his eyes as he continues to rut into your cunt that he was practically drowning in.

he doesn't need to tell you that he's approaching his orgasm, you can feel it, his rhythm becoming a little messy as each snap of his hips feel more deliberate. driving his cock deep into your heat, whining as he pushes himself over the edge.

#lads smut #lads x reader #lads imagine #l&ds caleb #lnds caleb #caleb smut #caleb x mc #caleb x you #lads caleb #love and deepspace caleb #caleb x reader #caleb #l&ds x you #l&ds x reader #l&ds smut #love and deep space imagines #love and deep space smut #love and deep space x reader #xia yizhou

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kamitv · 1 year ago

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could you write about who you think are the most touch/affection-starved of the jjk boys? the thought of them crumbling at the slightest touch and savoring every second with us makes me 🥴🥴🥴

▷ Delicate

Sypnosis . Men who fold under your touch. / Pairings . (Separate) Nanami x f!reader, Choso x f!reader, Ino x f!reader / Content . afab!reader, established relationships, fluff, begging men, sensitive men, soft sex, filth, dirty talk, etc. / wc . 4.8k

A/N: Grieving over the loss of my man right now-- Gege I hate you and the air that you breathe. This was going to include more men but due to the loss of my lover, my mood was ruined and I couldn’t finish what I had for the others… Anyway, not proof-read, hope you enjoy! ^.^ [MDNI]

★ Nanami Kento

While it may be a bit... unexpected, yes, Nanami is sensitive to your touch. Each one lingers on his skin, seeps through his clothing, and tattoos itself onto him.

He's a very stoic and, usually, stern man but when it comes to you, he's almost like putty under your touch. It's intoxicating really, the way you're always caressing his arms, grabbing his hand to hold when the two of you walk or even during sex.

You're quite the touchy woman and Nanami can't say he doesn't love that about you.

When he comes home after a long day of work, you'd rush to the door to greet him, dressed in your comfort clothes from head to toe with that bright smile of yours latched to your face. Your hands are on him instantly, helping him rid himself of his coat, his tie, hell, even his shoes sometimes if you're feeling enthusiastic enough.

It's cute really. The way you help him undress as soon as he steps into the house, asking him how his day was and reciprocating with a not-so-eventful tale of your day. He's listening to your every word though, hanging off every syllable even, but you don't notice it.

Even as you guide him toward the kitchen to show him a surprise dinner you'd whipped up, you're rambling about something concerning your cooking process and he's hearing every word but, the way your fingers slip down his arms, curl around his wrist to pull him along, release him and then press into his chest to stop him from walking-- it was truly alluring.

Nanami swears he wasn't always this sensitive to touch. He doesn't know why exactly his heart swells in while you keep your hand flat on his chest, your attention on some nearby pot as you continue to talk.

You were explaining something but he'd stopped listening, his eyes all over the side of your face and soon trailing to your arm, and then to the hand you've got on him.

Nanami's hand would be moving before he even realizes, slipping so gracefully to your wrist and moving your hand off of him just to lean down a bit and plant a loving kiss across your knuckles.

"And then I almost-," His sudden kiss would make your brain freeze, head whirling in his direction to see your husband planting peck after peck before he shifts your hand to cup the side of his face and then meets your gaze.

Those gentle brown eyes of his would be so sappy and soft with you, filled with a love you can hardly comprehend as he rests his head against your palm, grinning at you. What a handsome man you've married.

You couldn't be happier as you look at him, even with the sigh that leaves you, "Kento..."

His brows would raise ever so slightly, "Hm?"

"Did you hear anything I just said?" You'd huff out. And there's this slight frustration in your voice but he loves it anyway, completely and utterly smitten for you no matter the situation.

Nanami nods, just barely, before turning his head and kissing the inside of your palm, "Mhm," He hums casually, "You were telling me how you almost burned our kitchen down."

"Yes, and..." Your eyes narrow at the man, watching how he just kisses and kisses your palm, almost as though he couldn't pull himself away, "Ken..." Your hand slips a bit and you caress his face, "Are you okay?"

His hand, much veinier and larger than yours, would come up and cup yours over his face, "Yes, yes, I'm fine. Your touch is just so... soft."

That earns a smile from you, "Is it?" You'd giggle amid your question, eyes lowering at the man before you.

"Yes, it is," Nanami responds simply. Then he begins moving your hand to the side of his neck and his head tilts as he looks at you, stepping closer and closing the slight space between you and him, "I love how gentle it is, how loving, how caring."

"Oh?" Your smile widens and you move your other hand away from the, now forgotten, pot and it goes toward the buttons of his shirt, "Should I start touching you more then?"

"I implore you to, yes," Nanami huffs out, his body leaning toward yours.

You bring your lower lip into your mouth and tip your head a bit, one hand toying with the buttons of his shirt and the other caressing the side of his neck, "Since when has my touch had you this... pleading," You question, words coming out slow as his eyes drop to your lips.

Your husband takes his other hand and grabs a careful hold onto your wrist, dragging your hand further down his body and making you feel against his abs through his clothing as he leans closer to you. His free hand then moves to your waist and he tugs you to him, closing any and all space left.

"Always," Nanami confesses to you, "Your touch makes me weak, sweetheart." He explains with that gentle yet deep voice of his, always so soft when speaking to you.

You smile, "Weak?"

"Yes, weak," Nanami whispers in agreement with a steady nod of his head, eyes doting on every aspect of your facial expression.

The man was so in love and his poured out of his every gaze, brown eyes lingering on your lips long enough to silently tell you what he wanted. So, your hand steadily undoes the first button on his shirt, moving your other hand from his neck to assist yourself.

Your eyes on his the entire time, you unbutton at least four buttons before taking a finger and grazing his bare chest, watching how his breathing stutters from something so light.

Smiling, "This, Kento..." Your voice is small in a sultry whisper as you drag your finger down and down until you pass his torso and reach the hem of his pants, "This makes you, weak?" You as tauntingly just before you begin unbuckling his belt.

His heart rate quickens and he swallows loud enough for you to hear, sighing as his head weighs to the side a little, "Hahh, yes, my love," Nanami tells you, face inclining down to your own.

Your gaze and his meet and the eye contact is heavy with tension, your fingers working his belt loose before you're teasing him by just barely unbuttoning his pants and making sure your fingers caress the area below his abdomen.

Nanami's lips twitch and so badly does he want to kiss you but he's too busy hanging off the slow words leaving your lips.

"Who would've thought?" You utter, smiling at your husband, "A serious man like you crumbling to your wife's small touches."

He tilts his head further and his lips are practically on yours as he speaks, "Small or not... they're touches from my wife." He emphasises just before giving you but a small peck on the lips.

You hum, "I suppose."

And then you're finally kissing him, lips molding into one another and his body melting to the feel of you. Oh how Nanami loves the way your lips part for his tongue to push through, the way you kiss him back with just as much passion as he approaches you with, and how warm and savory the inside of your mouth is.

Soft smacks emit from the two of your lips sliding over one another, your husband nipping at your lower lip and quick to kiss you like it's the last thing he'll ever do. Then his hands are grabbing a firm hold of your waist, silently telling you that you're his to hold and touch however he feels.

His fingers, large, veiny, and thick, feel you through the fabric of your top, unable to pry off of you once he's got you in his grasp.

Then, into your mouth so very lowly, h's grunting, "Undress me," Nanami orders as he slightly steps forward with you.

You step back accordingly and your hands are flying back up, unbuttoning the rest of his shirt and feeling him up afterward as you start slipping the item off of his body.

"Like this? Hm?" You whisper back to him as his shirt hangs off of him, his hands gripping onto you tighter and tighter whilst he walks you backward and out of the kitchen.

His voice makes your knees weak as his mouth detaches from yours and drops to your neck while you move to finally get his slacks off, "Yes, like that. Good girl," Nanami praises against your neck, soft but hot kisses making you gasp.

With your voice all breathy and your feet and hands stumbling with the large eager man before you, "C'mon Ken, at least make it to the bedroom," You murmur, his pants loose on his hips as he bulge brushes against your front.

"I'm trying." He groans, breath simmering into the crook of your neck before his tongue is felt against you.

You can't help but giggle, "You're trying?"

"Yes," He huffs out, voice hinted with this tune you rarely hear from him too often.

You're walking back and back until you bump into a wall for a second, your bedroom door now to your right as Nanami marks up your neck messily. Then you snicker, "Mmmh, I like you like this, Kento," You comment, to which he sighs.

Then he's off your neck and moving you to walk backward into your bedroom, clearly no longer patient.

Cocking his head to the side, "Like what?" Nanami asks curiously.

You shrug and the back of your legs hit the front of your bed, "Desperate, almost," You hum, brows furrowing a bit.

Nanami helps you settle yourself onto the mattress completely before he's crawling on top of you, shrugging his shirt completely off of his body and revealing his full chiseled physique to you.

"Starved?" He asks, trying to find the word you were looking for.

You shake your head and then it comes to you, your arms wrapping around his neck and tugging him down to you before you whisper, "Craving."

Nanami gazes at you for a long moment, simply taking you in before nodding his head slowly, "Craving, yes." He agrees.

Then, another long press of his lips to yours is made and your legs are adjusted to wrap around his waist, Nanami wanting any and all parts of you on him now.

His lips shift to the left a little and he kisses the side of your mouth, then your cheek, and then he drops to your neck again, making you do nothing more than smile as his hands work to get your clothes off of you.

Your top is soon removed, bottoms followed soon after, all of which is discarded to the floor somewhere before Nanami's kissing you again and forcing your hands to be on him.

"Run your fingers through my hair," He murmurs, directing one of your hands to his blonde locks of hair. Then, he takes the other hand and moves it to wrap around his neck, "Scratch my back while I fuck you," Nanami whispers, works making your breathing unsteady while he suddenly grinds his hard cock down into you, "Try pushing me away when it becomes too much, I don't care, just want your hands on me, okay?"

His directions had you hot all over, pupils dilated already, breathing heavy from his constant kisses, and your hands quick to run along his tensed skin before you nod with an obedient, "Yes sir." Leaving you.

Nanami just barely smiles and you feel his heavy cock twitch against you, "What'd I tell you about that?"

"I don't remember," You whipser, your fingers slipping down from his hair to caress his jawline and then pulling his face closer to your own, "Remind me, sir."

There's a smile on his face as his lips finally near your own again, "You'll be the death of me one day." Nanami utters to you lovingly.

And maybe one day you will.

But tonight?

Tonight you are nothing more than a hole for him to fill as he soon grunts into your ear telling you how good your cunt feels around him, telling you how pretty you look taking his cock, and moaning out how much he loves the way you touch him.

★ Choso Kamo

You always knew he was sensitive to your touch. Look at him. No, literally, look at the man. He's not sensitive to everything but your touch is most definitely his weakness.

You once gave the man nothing more than a handjob and he was cumming all over the damn place. You're not sure if you've ever seen your boyfriend so... whiney.

Choso had his legs spread like a slut for you as you sat oh so prettily beside him, fingers wrapped around his cock and stroking him torturously slow. Your thumb would caress his bulging veins, fingers would twirl around his fat tip, tap and slip in between the slit of his cock, teasing him.

And since you were sitting beside him, your breasts would graze the side of his arm, making him flinch over and over. You had him so tense, so sweaty, so loud.

Choso didn't even know he could moan this much just from someone's hand. He's jerked himself off plenty of times but when you do it, it's like blood rushes to both his head and his cock, his vision would blur, and his breathing would grow unsteady.

Maybe it's because of how you had teased him beforehand, running your manicured nails along his inner thigh as the two of you tried to watch a movie together. Only for your hand to accidentally graze his dick, somehow groping him through his clothing and then turning to look at him.

That was when he began to sweat buckets, cock springing up under your palm at one measly little touch and his breath hitching.

Then he was whispering a gruff little, "Baby," Making you smile as you did nothing but innocently bat your lashes at him. To which he'd tip his head back against the couch and swallow, "Stop teasin'..."

You then scooted closer to him, your thigh touching his as your voice neared his ear, "I barely even touched you, Cho," You had whispered, watching how even in the dim lighting, his face grew red and he struggled to keep his composure.

Turning his head to you, Choso was quick to meet your eyes with a low and desperate gaze, lids dimming, brows tensing, and breathing heavy. "Then touch me more, please." He requested quietly, deep voice making your cunt jump with excitement.

You quickly switched hands so that you could turn your torso to him, which was when your breast pressed into his arm and your hand then moved to work his cock out.

And yes, in minutes he was cumming in your hand, making such an embarrassing mess of your fingers. Your hand was so soft, jerking his twitching cock off so perfectly.

Choso was groaning into the air like he couldn't control it, "H-Hahh, aagh, baby-, baby fuck, y-your ha-hahh, hand-," His voice... squeaks? as he says that last word, pitching so deliciously that you have to squeeze your thighs together as you watch him tense up yet again, "S-Shit, m'gonna cum again," Choso breathed out through gritted teeth.

He was so sexy all sensitive and tense for you, making you smile as you watched his face twist up and his eyes flicker every time you focused your palm on his tip.

"Again, Cho? You're makin' such a mess, baby," You coo softly, breath just barely hitting his ear and adding on to the numerous things he was feeling.

His head was spinning at this point and he couldn't stop himself from watching your, much smaller, hand jerk him off, from quick pulls and tugs to slow drags and caresses, to twisting and rolling-- Choso was both in a daze and high off of watching you stroke his aching cock.

God damn you knew how to use your hand. You knew where he was sensitive, knew what to do and how to do it.

His cock was wet with cum and your hand just slide up and down and up and down, the sloppy sound filling the entire space and adding onto his arousal. Cum was slipping in between your fingers, all down to his balls-- shit, he really did make a mess.

It was nasty but... he liked it that way.

"P-Princess, fuuck, please," His voice was cracking, breaking because of you, eyes tearing up as your hand only got faster and faster, "Fuck fuck, please d-don't stop." He pants out, head flying back against the couch as his thighs closed and opened, almost like he wanted it all to end and yet continue at the same time.

Watching him had your body hot, there was a pulse coming from in between your legs and you had half the urge to get down on your knees and just suck him off since he was being so damn whiney.

But at the same time, you couldn't stop your hand. Not when he was about to cum again, not when you were about to drag the sound you were looking for out of him.

"Y'like that, Cho?" Such a simple question you murmured to him and yet it broke him.

Nodding all needily and fucked out, "Yes baby, yesyesyes," He gasps, abs tensing as your hand just would stop. You wouldn't let up on him for even a second and it was killing him, "F-Fuck I like it s'much-, I like you- love you," He corrects, struggling and stumbling over all his words, "Love your fuckin' hand-"

His jaw drops and the groan that leaves him comes from deep within his throat, "Ohmygoddd, fuck," Oh he was babbling for you, thoughts whirling, voice cracking and high pitched with you.

Then his lips quivered and that's when that noice came out. Such a cute, whiney, and filthily obscene whimper slipped out of his mouth, eyes at the back of his damn skull as he came all over your hand again.

And you had the nerve to talk him through it, whispering sweet, "That's it baby," To him and making him pant and his breathing stutter, your hand still going.

Choso couldn't formulate proper sentences with you anymore, barely chanting an almost silent I love you over and over until your hand stopped and his dick finally calmed down.

★ Ino Takuma

Is this even surprising?

Of course your cute boyfriend Ino is sensitive and affectionate starved. Sometimes he tries to act like your touch doesn't faze him but the very second it leaves him, he's giving you these doe-eyes and moving to put your hand back on him.

And it's just perfect for him that you enjoy touching him a lot. You're almost always hugging him or grabbing his face to pull him in for a kiss and he loves it.

So whenever you're away for a few hours, his body aches for you. You'd have your nails done too so that was something he enjoyed feeling more than ever, loving how your fingernails would run through his hair as he laid on your thighs or even in between them, face stuffed into your cunt.

Either way, Ino loved your touches and yes he craves it when you're not around.

So whenever the two of you do meet up, you're always running up to him, throwing your arms up and around his neck, laughing and smiling about how much you missed him.

Then you'd always tug that beanie off of his head, telling him how much you enjoy it when his hair is out and teasing him about looking silly with the accessory on.

He'd shrug off your comment and then as soon as you turn away from him, his arms are draping around your waist, chin resting on your shoulder and crotch pressing into your ass.

Your body would freeze in place as you feel something familiarly hard poking at your ass, turning your head to your boyfriend who you've barely even touched so far and raising a brow at him, "Takuma..." You'd utter softly, earning a grin from him.

"Hm? Somethin' wrong?" He'd ask casually, as if there's not a painful boner in his pants all because you'd hugged him.

"You tell me," You tease, moving out of his hold and turning your body around to face your boyfriend as you cross your arms.

He quickly raises a hand to the back of his neck to scratch, chuckling nervously, "I'm not sure what y'want me to say?" He hums plauyfully.

You tilt your head and him and sigh before moving to point at his crotch, "How about you start with explaining that."

Ino's head drops to look at where you're pointing to, laughing as soon as he sees himself, "Oh, that. Yeah, no, that's uh, that's nothing, really-," His head lifts and you've gotten all close to him again, head angled upward slightly to meet his gaze and your stare making him swallow all his words down with a loud gulp.

Your hand then moves in almost slow motion and you place but a single finger to his chin, tipping his face down some more to get a good look at him and then smiling. "Y'know you can ask me to help you, right? I am your girlfriend, remember?" You whisper.

He starts nodding like he's hanging off of your words, eyes set on your lips and his breathing picked up just because you've got a finger on his chin. "M-Mhm, I uh," He blinks a few times to gather himself, "I know."

You smile and step even closer, your body just barely touching his, "Takuma," You whisper yet again, causing a shiver to slip down his spine.

He was so nervous because of you, "Lover," He hums back.

A chuckle slips past you, "Lover? That's cute."

"Y'like that one? I've been brainstormin' pet names recently," Ino tells you happily, his voice soft with you due to the lack of distance between you and him.

"Yeah, that one's cute," You whisper as your lips near his, "But uh, we're not just gonna skip past this," You emphasize as your hand palms at his erection, making his breath hitch.

Ino's brows tense and so does the rest of his body, "Y'gonna take care of it, baby?" He whispers to you, eyes softening at you as you peer up at him so tentatively.

"You want me to?" You utter back, batting your eyes at him and feeling on his cock through his clothing.

"Yeah," Ino nods out, to which you give him this look and he swallows, quick to correct himself, "Yes... please."

Smiling, "How do you want me to take care of it, hm? On my knees? With my hand?"

Ino barely knows how to even answer your question, it always makes him nervous when you take the lead, not that it doesn't happen often but most times anything sexual between you two just occurs mutually.

There's not always someone in the lead and it's usually just the two of you trying to make the other feel good. Which is enjoyable of course but when you're like this? Asking him what he wants and yet telling him what you're going to do through your gaze?

Oh he's almost the one on his knees for you.

Which is how you ended up later sitting behind your boyfriend, head peering over his shoulder and arms wrapped around him so that your pretty hands could work up and down his cock.

He hardly remembers how he got into this position with you or what he said for you to even want to do this but, here he was; face red, moans pouring out, hips bucking up into your touch, eyes lidded and struggling to keep up with watching the way your two hands groped and jerked at his cock perfectly.

Your fingers and his dick glistened with spit and precum, the sounds of you giving him the best handjob he could ever have asked for loud throughout the room.

"Oh baby," Ino whines out, eyes nearly shut as he tries his hardest not to squirm too much, "That feels so fuckin' good, holy shit."

"Yeah?" You smile, "My hands feel good?" The taunting behind your words made his cock throb in your hands, slim veins bulging against your palms and making you snicker.

Ino nods his head needly, "M-Mhmm, fuck-," He gasps, voice lagging behind as he tries his best to answer you properly.

You start kissing the side of his neck and he swears his head is spinning. He doesn't even know what to focus on at this point. Your hands on his cock? Your lips on the side of his neck? Your breasts pressed into his back?

It was all too much for him, making his knees bend just for his legs to extend out seconds later, his mouth just open with moans of your name and not-so-silent whines slipping out. Did he want it to go on forever or stop as soon as possible?

Fuck, and then there was you heavy breathing against him, almost as if you were aroused by this too-

Holy shit you were. You were probably soaked just because you're busy getting your boyfriend off using those pretty hands of yours. Ino's on cloud nine just thinking about how wet your cunt probably is, his moans getting louder and louder as second pass.

Up until he can't take it anymore and he moans your name, "B-Baby, fuck, needa' feel you, please."

"Hm?" You giggle softly, though it's noticeably more breathy than usual, "You are feelin' me though?" You point out as your hands tighten around his cock.

Ino's head rests back a bit and he pants, babbling out his desperations more clearly for you, "No baby, your pussy, come put it on me, please." He huffs out.

You cunt twitches at his words and you whisper his name, "Takuma...."

"Please?" Your boyfriend begs, gulping afterward to catch his breath for a moment, "J-Just... oh fuck, let me feel you, taste you, fuck you, anything baby, please?"

"Shit, okay, okay," Is the last thing you say before you too folded under pressure and moved.

Then you were on top of him, his eyes glossy as he watched you above him. Neither of you are sure which was more stimulating, you jerking him off or what you're doing now.

Which was rubbing nothing more than his tip against your slick hole, dragging him back and forth and back and forth in between your sopping folds. His tip was glazed in your arousal and his own, both of you moaning softly at the tease of it all.

It was somehow almost better than sex itself. You liked teasing him like this and he loved being teased. Ino was in a daze, trying his hardest not to cum at the sight of you forcing his needy cock against your pussy.

Your cunt looked so fucking delicious, so wet, so warm, he wanted to be inside you so bad and that's what was arousing him right now-- the temptation to just thrust his hips up into you and finally sink his inches deep inside you.

There was a light wet and sloppy sound that followed your languid movements, his cock slipping inside of you every now and then and making you practically start drooling for it.

It was taking everything in you not to just plop down and start bouncing on his cock like you normally would but when you looked at Ino's face and saw him panting and quietly whimpering-- you knew he was about to cum and you didn't want to stop.

Rocking your pussy over his tip over and over and over and over again until he was struggling to gasp for air, hissing out a cry of your name over and over, trying to warn you.

But instead of stopping, you whine, "C'mon, cum f'me," And then he is, and his cock is leaking in cum before he can even comprehend it, never realizing how sensitive his body was to you until now.

You always kinda knew he was sensitive and sure, you rubbing his cock against your pussy was pleasurable but it really surprised you how much he came from the action.

Smirking as he comes down from his high, you then lean to him and kiss him before whispering, "Good boy," To which his jaw drops a bit and you're angling his cock to slip inside you, "Now, hurry up 'nd please your girlfriend," You huff out.

And he's nodding without a second thought, "Yes ma'am-, fuck, whatever you want, pretty girl."

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unintentionalseductress · 2 months ago

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Let Me Take Care Of It

Warnings: MDNI, pseudocest, inexperienced adult reader, mild corruption kink, reader calls Caleb gege A/n: ok ok...tbh idk how this would even work irl, where reader is a grown woman and doesn't know about her clit or being horny etc...point is IDC, this is like PWMP - p**n with mild plot, but honestly, I just needed a reason to write some filthy pseudocest so here we fucking are. Written with very little thought and not proofread. Part 2 maybe if this does well.

It started out as a strange feeling; blushing whenever Caleb patted your head, or when he held your hand while crossing the street. It hadn't affected you before, but now it was all you could think about.

It was a very odd sensation: flushed face, rapid heartbeat, a soft ache in your nipples, and most curious of all, a persistent throbbing between your legs. It went away with time, but everything seemed to reignite when Caleb was back in proximity to you.

Then he left for college. That was the longest you'd gone without feeling those peculiar tingles and uncomfortable jolts in your stomach. Then he'd visit and it all came crashing down again. It was more manageable after you started living in the dorm. Separated for longer periods meant you could live much more freely, and you prepared yourself for any visits to Grandma's place. You'd successfully avoided Caleb up until now.

So imagine your surprise when you open the front door and are greeted with an enthusiastic, "Hey pipsqueak!"

Your heart skips a beat, then a high-pitched squeal leaves your lips as you're lifted off the ground. Caleb envelops you in a tight hug as he picks you up and spins you around, just like when you were kids. The familiar scent of his skin fills your nostrils, and on cue, that throbbing between your legs starts again.

"Oh, it feels like I haven't seen you in forever!" He carefully sets you down and ruffles your hair, worsening the rising heat in your cheeks. "You've been so busy the last few vacations that I haven't seen you all year pipsqueak!"

Caleb casually slinks his arm around your shoulder, his hand just shy of brushing your breast and you feel your nipple hardening almost painfully against the fabric of your bra, feeling like it might chafe against the undergarment. You clear your throat and nod, hoping none of your symptoms were showing on your face.

"Yeah it's good to see you too..." you try to sound nonchalant as you push Caleb off you, pretending to be playful, and he grins, automatically leaning back against you like a game, annoyingly yet adorably resembling a puppy that wanted pets.

"No hug for me?" His purple eyes were pleading. "No I miss you? You've really become miss independent after leaving for college. Bet you don't want my homemade dumplings or brasied chicken wings anymore either huh?"

You instantly pout, the mention of food temporarily making you forget your embarrassing reaction to his presence. "I never said that! I always want your food!"

Caleb grins. "Oh I see. You only think of me when you're hungry. What a selfish little pipsqueak."

The sight of him smiling was making your stomach tie itself into knots. "I'm gonna put my stuff away. Freshen up." You quickly grab your suitcase.

"Are you ok?" Without warning, Caleb reaches out to cup your cheek between both his hands and your breath catches, the heat welling up inside to a point that you felt like you might burst into flames.

"You're awfully warm and red. You're not sick right?" Caleb's endearing method of checking for a fever, which used to make you feel secure and safe, was now making you squirmy and awkward.

Jerking your face out of his hands, you mutter an "I'm fine," before running as fast as you can to your room. Once inside, you sink down on the bed, trying to calm down, trying to think of anything to stop that uncomfortable little pulse of heat in between your most intimate folds. You let out a growl of frustration, then startle as someone knocks on your door. You scramble into a sitting position.

"Yeah?"

Caleb wanders in, looking concerned, and you feel like a trapped animal, fighting for space.

"I'm sorry, but I don't buy that you're ok." He sits down on the edge of your bed and you look away, blushing furiously.

"You've never avoided me like this our whole lives pipsqueak. Didn't we agree no secrets? That you can always talk to me no matter what?"

His words twist guilt into your being but you can't bring yourself to look at him. An awkward silence fills the room and Caleb scoots closer, and you're sure he's trying to give you a heart attack.

"What is it? Are you on your period?"

You know he means well, but you shrink from him, and your heart clenches as you see the disappointment in his face as you withdraw; you'd never rejected his touch before.

Caleb sighs deeply, then rubs the back of his neck. "Ok. I'm sorry. I'll give you some room."

He gets up to go but you instinctively grab his hand, eyes wide and pleading. "No, don't go." you swallow, trying to form the words.

"I don't want space from you."

"Then why are you being weird?" He allows himself to be pulled back onto the bed and draws you against him, and you feel like all your senses are focusing on reliving one thing and one thing only; the pulsating warmth of your sex.

"I'm not trying to be, but I don't feel good. But I don't think I'm sick." You try to explain as Caleb holds you. "I feel...all hot. And my body keeps getting these tingles, and I feel...like my heart's beating too fast."

"Since when?" Caleb gently pats the back of your head. "You should have told me. I would've taken you to the doctor."

"There's something else. And it's kind of...embarrassing."

"Embarrassing how?"

You swallow, feeling your face burn as you admit your problem. "I feel a weird kind of throbbing sensation."

"Is it painful? Where?"

"It's...down there." You finally admit.

A ringing silence falls around you and for a second you worry you've said too much, before Caleb asks, "Like...down down there? In your...?" he fumbles. "Your pussy?"

You let out a shriek of mortification and push him, hiding your face in your hands. "Don't call it that!"

"That's what it's called!" Caleb says earnestly, trying not to laugh. "And I think I know what's happening." He tugs on your wrist to pull you back to his side.

"You do?" Hopeful you peek at him, feeling shy as his eyes start to darken at the edges.

"I think I do. You're horny." he says it matter-of-factly, and you glance away.

"Horny? That's what this is?"

"Yup. I can check if you want."

Your heart skips a beat. "Check?"

"Yeah. Do you trust me?"

Nodding, you allow him to lay you back on the bed, resisting the urge to snap your legs closed as he settles between them. He carefully hikes up your skirt, trying to ignore the shudder that passes through him as he sees the drenched gusset of your cute little panties.

"Let gege take care of you," he murmurs hotly, and despite yourself, you nod.

"Gege knows what wrong with me?" you ask with wide eyed innocence that makes him want to rip off your clothes and take you then and there. Caleb settles for a nod.

"Yes pipsqueak. I do." He pulls off the soaked panties, dragging them down your legs and bringing them up to his nose to smell, the musky aroma making his cock harden painfully.

You're as red as an apple as you watch. "Gege why...?"

"Scent is an important part of making sure you're horny. Judging by these-" he dangles the drenched undergarment in the air before putting it into his pocket, "I'd say you've been this way for a while."

Your knees tremble but Caleb puts his hands on them, keeping them apart. "Be gege's good girl hmm? Keep your legs wide open for me."

You obey, then let out a tiny gasp as you feel his fingers on your cunt, prising them apart and stroking a calloused fingertip through the moist, swollen membranes. As he brushes closer to the apex, you moan and buck your hips, a sudden feeling of pleasure floating through you at his touch.

"Oh pipsqueak. Your clit is all swollen and pink. Are you a naughty little pipsqueak, getting wet when gege is near?" His question is a husky murmur, asked with a smirk that has you hiding your face in your hands again.

"I don't know." you whimper as the throbbing increases after the temporary respite of him touching it.

"Let gege help you. Just relax." You let out a helpless, breathy noise as he pets that little bud at the tip of your apex again, drawing smooth circles over it, your moans music to his ears. He inserts a finger into your tight virgin hole, hissing as he feels how smoothly it glides in, and when he pulls out, the digit is coated with a slick layer of your arousal.

"My little one...you're so pent up. You haven't touched yourself at all? Not even once?" he smears the fluid onto your clit, lewd squelxhing noises filling the air as he strokes you steadily.

The tenderly movements only aid in your growng arousal, hips automatically rocking in a primal rhythm to his fingers. "No..." you manage to whimper. "I didn't know this was what the problem was."

"Ssh..." Caleb silences you with a kiss on your forehead. "It's ok. Now you know. And gege is here to show you. Don't worry my little doll." Testing your limits, he reinserts his finger, followed by a second one, marveling at the stretch. "How does this feel?"

You nod your head. "It...it feels good gege..." your walls clamp around the invading digits and Caleb curls them up, running them along the upper walls of your channel until he finds a spongy little patch deep within. He strokes it with care as his thumb continues it movements on your clit, and your eyes squeeze closed, pops of color forming behind your closed eyelids.

"That's it...focus on feeling good. Can you do that for me pipsqueak?"

You nod tightly, feeling light, your whole body turning into a melting mess of pleasure as you mewl, your body responding so perfectly to his actions. Caleb can see your nipples poking through the thin fabric of your shirt and he curbs his impulses to rip the shirt off and suckle the little knots of flesh greedily, not when he knew you were so close to having a satisfying orgasm on his fingers.

The tension builds, a slippery coil of want tightening in your belly as your voice keens. You feel pressure building within, like your body was contracting and relaxing at the same time, almost like it was trying to expel something.

"Gege...I feel like...there's pressure..." You struggle to explain.

"That's normal pipsqueak. Focus on that. Trust me."

So you listen to him, tuning into the feeling and then, the world suddenly grows bright. The buidling pressure snaps, releasing an insane synergy of rapid delight, growing in your belly and radiating everywhere. Your clit and pussy flutter in tandem as you ride the wave of ecstasy, breath tearing from your throat as it ripples through you, filling you with gratification.

Caleb's fingers never cease through this event but his touch becomes softer, and once he feels your pussy start to relax, he removes his drenched fingers from your hole, licking them clean, much to your chagrin.

"That was so beautiful pipsqueak. How do you feel?" He gather you close, giving reassuring kisses to your cheeks and forehead.

"I feel...good. Like really good. And the throbbing is gone."

Caleb chuckles. "You'll let me know if it comes back? I'll always help you my little one."

Glowing at the relief, you snuggle into him. "Yes gege."

"That's my girl." He presses a final kiss to your forehead, moving away to give himself some room to gether himself, to take his painfully hard cock away from your pretty, half-naked body."

"Wash up pipsqueak. Dinner will be ready soon."

With one last look at your sated face, Caleb leaves in satisfaction. He can wait. He has all week.

@tokyorevengersrin @brekkersgf @ladyparamount @otomegamesforlife @shddyboo @supernaturalbaesduh @sweets-kozume @theimmortalbuns @venussakura @prisjean @laddelulu30 @lethargiccryptid @ravenclaw-jojo @redactedbimbo @crypt-0rchid @fattybattysblog @xinnn6 @xiaoderrrr @evansdmitri @ravenclaw-jojo @decileste @thesoftuglywrites @belt0-0 @snatched-bubblegum-bitch @wynter-lily @cordidy

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churipu · 1 year ago

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𐙚 THREE TIMES NANAMI MADE YOU CRY ⋆ ˚｡

featuring. nanami kento x reader

warning. referral to the reader as 'wife'

note. i just felt so mellow today — because a lot of sad nanami edits have been passing by in my fyp and i'm about to have a mental breakdown because of it, when i catch gege >:( a lil note, i cried writing this bcs i miss nanami so much help

✴ ONE : WHEN HE PROPOSED TO YOU

it took him a short time to realize that he wanted to spend the rest of his life with you — he sees you cooking breakfast at the crack of dawn just for him before he goes to work, and he realizes that, yes, you were the one for him.

"do you want to marry me?"

your head turned to him slowly, eyes following just a few seconds after and you blinked, "i'm sorry, what?" you ask him.

nanami's eyes raised up to meet yours, "do you want to marry me?" he repeats his question calmly.

it was a day like every other — the both of you sitting on the couch, the television on yet nobody's paying attention to it. nanami has his eyes on the magazine in his grasp, and you were on your phone, scrolling through social media.

"yeah, of course i do."

nanami takes out a velvet colored box from his pocket and opens it up, you stared at him in confusion; wondering if this was a joke or not, is he actually proposing to you while you were in your pjs? but that actually didn't bother you — it was the fact he is proposing to you.

"marry me." he murmurs out softly, taking the beautiful ring out of its place, waiting for your acknowledgement.

your tears began flowing out and it took nanami by surprise, "sweetheart, i'm sorry. was it too sudden? you don't have to—" you shook your head at him, wiping your tears away.

"i'm just so . . . happy, ken."

that was the first time he made you cry.

✴ TWO : HIS WEDDING VOWS

your wedding was a simple ceremony. it was filled with fun and laughter, your loved people were there — his loved people were there, gojo and his students were there. it was just, a one fine day, really.

when it comes to the delivering of vows, traditionally; the groom goes first.

"y/n, i'm not good with my words, but you know me better than anyone else, so i assume you know that as well. we met five years ago when i bought a casse-croûte in a bakery you worked in; and if you had told me then that we'd be standing here and i'd be spending the rest of my life with you, maybe i wouldn't believe in you and told you that you were saying nonsense.

first and foremost, i would never thought that a one stop shop in a bakery would lead me to the love of my life — that day, i decided to stop by the bakery you worked in because my usual place was closed for the day, when i think about that, i get so overwhelmed; if my usual shop had opened that very day, maybe you would be standing here with another man, another man who is not me.

y/n, you are the most curious person i have ever met in my life. and i am pretty sure you are asking yourself now, what is kento thinking of right now? the answer is you. i am thinking about you now, later, and forever. from the first day you asked me if i liked casse-croûte, i have not once stopped thinking about you.

i was never a person who sought for relationship or thought of it a lot in the past, but when you came into my life. i began thinking of my future with you, making our own happy family, having kids, traveling the world, all of that. the moment i saw you take your time to wake up before me to cook me breakfast before i go to work, i knew i just had to make you my wife. i want to spend the rest of my life with you.

you love me and completed me in ways i do not know existed, and my love — i promise you, that from here onwards, i will continue to love you and every piece of you and for who you are yet to become. i promise to be your husband, your best friend, your partner in crime as you always like to name it, and your number one supporter, also as you name it.

above all, i promise to show you how lucky i am to have you in my life. i cannot wait to start a new chapter in my life with you, i love you."

it was safe to say that everyone in the room was crying, including you (and gojo, who had to be escorted out by megumi because the male was straight up sobbing loudly).

✴ THREE : WHEN HE DIED

shibuya. october 31, 2018. god, how much you dreaded every single thing that happened in there — just the thought of october coming after that year made your stomach churn in sadness.

the day a lot of people lost their life, including nanami.

nanami is a strong man, and you know so. you believed in him, never did you once stopped believing in your husband; but the whole time nanami was fighting for his and everyone's life in shibuya, you were back at home with your few months old son.

"daddy is going to be okay, yeah? he's gonna be back soon," you cooed to your son despite the rising wariness.

but no, nanami never came back.

the one to break the news was no other than itadori yuuji himself, the sole witness to your husband's passing — he knocked on your door, beaten up, although his wounds were tended to. you knew the shibuya incident scarred the young boy with something that couldn't be closed off now or maybe ever.

"he's not coming back, is he?" you ask the teen with a sad smile.

itadori broke down on your porch that day. and you, nanami's wife was the one comforting him, after all, watching someone you care die in front of you was traumatizing. but itadori blamed himself for nanami's death — he was baffled when you pulled him into a tight hug, "it's my fault y/n-san! i killed him. he's dead because of me."

as much as nanami doesn't display his affection to itadori, you were a witness to how nanami really feels towards the young boy. telling you how he wishes your son would grow up to be just like itadori, bubbly and energetic. nanami cares about itadori like the boy was his own — although failing to show it.

"did he . . . did he say anything before he . . ?"

itadori cried in your embrace, "he . . . said he was sorry. for not coming back. and that he loves you and your son so much . . ." itadori was barely taking breaths in, he was hyperventilating in your arms, "he said he was sorry that he won't be able to accompany you to malaysia."

"okay." you didn't cry as itadori was breaking the news to you, you couldn't.

nanami's death quieted you — you didn't cry the first week, still not believing he was actually gone. finding yourself sitting on the couch, waiting for the male to open the door and to call out for you, "y/n, i'm home."

but it never happened. nanami was really gone. he's really dead.

grief is such an odd feeling, you relied on itadori to look after your son for the first two weeks as you didn't find yourself in the right mind to be capable of taking care of your own flesh and blood. a day before your son was going back into your care — you went grocery shopping, to buy things both nanami and you used to buy.

it was a mistake on your part not to use a basket or a trolley, putting all the stuff on the cashier counter was hard work. and as the baby food you put on top of the pile slipped through your fingers and dropped onto the floor, splattering the contents everywhere, you can't help but to let a few stray tears out.

your silent sobs turning into a full blown breakdown in the middle of a grocery shop as everything began coming in, a reality check.

that nanami was no longer going to be there with you again, you couldn't feel him anymore, you couldn't hear him anymore, you couldn't smell his cologne anymore.

but the world doesn't stop for that, it will keep going and you had to go on with your life without him.

#jujutsu kaisen #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk #jujutsu kaisen angst #jjk angst #nanami kento #nanami kento x reader #nanami kento angst #kento nanami x you #kento nanami #nanami #jujutsu kaisen nanami #kento x reader #i miss him so bad u guys :(#nanamin

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iinotinlxve · 1 year ago

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↪✩would they hold your hand?

⤷ characters: yuuji, megumi, toge, nanami

⤷ summary: How they respond and feel about hand-holding!!

⤷ a/n: jjk has officially ruined me. thanks gege

wc: 622

↣ yuuji itadori ☆

Yes. When he can't kiss you, he's always holding your hand. In the halls on your way to class, standing and talking to Megumi, casually doing anything and his hands are interlocked with yours. They're always warm, maybe even clammy-- you're always surprised when they're cold after he's been outside.

His favorite time to hold your hand is during walks. Both of you in casual clothing, looking at all the shops lining the street. The sidewalks aren't particularly busy, and the weather's perfect.

Yuuji is a really fast walker. He's always anxious about one thing or another, and slightly more active than the average person. But recently, he's tried to slow down a little more to enjoy the moment with you. And because you tell him to...

↣ megumi fushiguro ☆

He doesn't show it, but he secretly likes holding your hand. However, he rarely holds your hand in front of other people. And when he does, he doesn't bring attention to it. Usually it's you who grabs his hand, and he doesn't let go. He only regrets it later, when he gets teased by all his friends.

However, he loves holding your hand while making out with you. He'll interlock his fingers with yours as he kisses you, enjoying how you squeezed onto his hand.

Sometimes he'll hold your hand out of anger, if you can't walk straight. Or if you started to run off somewhere and couldn't stay on track. Overall, he's not physically affectionate, but that doesn't mean he doesn't enjoy it, especially if it's with you.

↣ toge inumaki ☆

Since he can't communicate his ideas in verbal language, he relies on other methods to express his affection. So yes, he enjoys holding your hand. Just casually, almost with a slight bit of intrigue and curiosity. Like he was fascinated by the fact you wanted to hold his hand.

He's quietly affectionate, leaning his head on your shoulder. Most exchanges between you were wordless, because he finally came to terms with the fact that you were okay with his silence. At first, he thought he had to try harder. To say something to you. But he soon found out that you didn't care all that much. As long as you were with him, that was all the communication you needed.

↣ kento nanami ☆

I don't see him as a hand-holding guy, but rather the type of person to put his hand on your thigh while you're sitting down at a restaurant.

Discreetly, under the table, almost like an absent-minded habit. He enjoys how your skin feels under his touch, finding a bit of comfort in just your presence alone. Plus, his hands are so much bigger than yours- in public, your normally just latch onto his arm and walk that way.

He'd also rest his hand on the small of your back, especially when you're wearing some sort of dress. Small, discreet hand placement while you're talking to someone, gently pulling you close to him. Sometimes he doesn't realize he's doing it. When you call him out, he just apologizes with a small smile. Although, you figure he's not really sorry...

↣ satoru gojo ☆

He's holding your hand all. the. time. Dragging you along, yanking you by your wrist towards him when he mentions you in a conversation. It's almost like he's bragging. He likes clinging onto you or staying close to you while focusing on something else. He turns off his Infinity, just for you.

He also really likes hugs, squeezing you for comfort. He likes spooning you in bed, and opening his arms with a small pout as he waits for you to hug him. And if you don't comply, he'll whine and complain until you do.

He's definitely outwardly affectionate, both in front of other people and in private.

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valentine-cafe · 1 month ago

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˖⁺. “ my sweetest girl ! ” :

﹙ rich yandere mad doctor x hyperfem reader. ﹚.𖹭 ݁

. . . verse 209 jingyi x female reader !! 🍓 : ﹙ yandere ˖ mad doctor ˖ snake monster character ﹚

your boyfriend is more than capable of spoiling your pretty little self rotten. he cant help but indulge you a little more each and every time too.

﹙ cws ﹚: explicit content ˖ handjob ˖ fitting room sex ˖ clothed sex ˖ rough sex ˖ creampie ˖ office sex ˖ yandere behaviour | wc : 0.9k

﹙ receipts ﹚: this man makes me wayyyy too weak . . . ough

꒰ other treats : guidelines ˖ m.list ˖ characters ˖ our lore ꒱

Never lets your pretty little hands touch a speck of work, why should he? In fact, those beautiful hands of yours are getting pampered and painted. Your phone's crooked against your ear and shoulder, a small smile on your lips as you ramble to your lover whose busy with paperwork. "What colour are you thinking?" He hums. When the answer is his favourite - red - his deep chuckle has you flushing.

"Does that mean I'm in for for a surprise later, darling?"

How are you ever to deny a man who treats you right? Spoils you rotten? You smile to the shimmer of gel polish on your coffin-shaped nails and coyly croon back.

"Who knows gege, maybe? You sent me here for a reason, didn't you?" Code for, wouldn't you like your dick wrapped up in your favourite colour?

Speaking about spoiling, his card? It might as well have your name engraved on it instead. It's placed in your hand the second you enter a store. His favourite thing after a long week is to whisk you away to the nearest boutique and have you try on whatever your heart desires. Your cute little dresses as you twirl before the mirror have him painfully hard in the fitting room. Good thing you're such a sweetheart and straddle his lap with your tight-fitted, pink velvet dress on, right? He'll grind on your wet cunt with his evident tent, groaning into your shoulder so deeply.

"No panties, sweetheart? My, aren't you bold?"

Large hands squeeze on your thighs as you so eagerly rock on his hard-on. You bite your plush lip, whine and slot your drippy slit right over his throbbing cock.

"Another little gift for you. Am I so wrong?" His fingers trail to the back of your neck, holding you there as his hips buck in tune. If you wanted it so bad, who was he to deny his dearest anything?

"Pretty little slut." The murmur to your neck is heated, his free hand works on his buckle. "Then get to it, won't you?"

His dick always feels better in public. The squeeze of your sopping pussy around his base is all the more sweeter when you're trying to keep your voice down. He intentionally rams up into you sweetspot and clamps a palm over your mouth. Fucks into you roughly, shallowly. Creams your pretty cunt so full of him, since you're such an eager girl.

His deep groan rumbles through your ear. "There you go sweetheart. All for this greedy pussy, hmm?"

His girl gets whatever she possibly wants. Of course he is going to help you with your hair in the morning. You'll be sat on the dresser in your white fluffy towel, chatting away about your week while he's stood behind you. Leaves rolled to his elbows, the hairdryer's in one hand and your favourite brush in the other. Three pins held by his lips as he so diligently styles and combs however you require.

Keeps a picture of you in his wallet. If anyone asks his cold, slitted eyes cast a blank glance over, before his ever-handsome smile curls to his lips. "Why, that's my darling girl. Pretty, isn't she?" The person better hope they agree in an appropriate way. Otherwise. . . Well. He can't have anyone taking you away from him, now can he?

Loves when your lipstick stains his neck. He'll be sure to wear them with pride as he ventures into his clinic. You have nurses watching in envy, patients all the more confused. Who cares for professionalism?

Especially when you wander into his office to surprise him for lunch. The second he sets his sights on you, your thighs are bundled up in his strong hands and you're plopped on his desk. Kisses dizzy you until you can barely breathe. He's messed up your makeup and you're all whiney when he pulls away to saliva connecting your swollen lips.

"Oh, poor thing. I simply can't help myself around such a pretty sweetheart. . . "

Worry not! Jingyi keeps extra makeup products for you in his top drawer. All you have to do is sit pretty while he snatches the small back, wipes away his mess and sets to work on dolling you up again.

The pucker of your lips under the lipstick has him biting onto his. You notice and giggle. The little jitter halts when he grasps your chin with his free hand and croons lowly.

"Stay still now. Lest you want me to mess it up all over again?"

There you go, batting those thick lashes at him? How is he not supposed to drop the lipstick and press you back into his desk? You brought it on yourself missy. Besides, you love when he shoves your underwear to the side and presses his cock in so eagerly. Love when he humps you against his desk so you squirt all over his paperwork. Leave the both of you panting and bundled up in his office chair at the end of it all.

Carries all of your shopping bags because he is here to spoil you, which really means he's here to worship you. Jingyi will have it no other way. Whether it's buying you an outfit every week, keeping up to date with your make-up, helping you out with your skin care in the middle of the night — who cares? As long as his pretty girl is happy. And as long as people keep their eyes off of her . . .

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#﹙ cupcake rush. ﹚: jingyi 209 𖹭 ݁#teratophillia #monster boyfriend #terato #monster fucker #yandere x reader #monster x reader #oc x reader #monster oc #x reader #reader insert #original character x reader #mad doctor x reader #naga x reader #snake monster x reader #jingyi 209 #fem reader #asterism

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calypsocolada · 1 year ago

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how the jjk boys ask you to be their girlfriend...ft. choso, gojo, nanami

authors note: saw the leaks. no spoilers in this fic btw. iykyk. gege is a criminal.

cw: fem reader, angst, lovey dovey, not proofread

wc: 2.7k

click here for my masterlist

One morning you wake up and stumble upon Choso in the kitchen, he was struggling with something, pots and pans scattered.

“Choso?” You ask, he spins around, looking slightly alarmed.

“You’re awake,” He stuns, his lips parted. You raise your brows, nodding your head.

“It’s almost 11, you let me sleep in.” You say. Choso turns as though he’s hiding something.

“I-- wanted to surprise you.” He says, seeing his face in full now you can see some white powder on his cheek and streaks of the powder in his hair.

“Surprise me?” You ask, walking closer. Choso looks a bit defeated as he moves to show you a scene of pure horror. He tried to cook you breakfast. Everything was burnt, even a cup of coffee, somehow. Your lips part in unspoken words as you try and comprehend this moment.

“Wow. Uh… Choso, this uh… this looks delicious.” Your words were the most unconvincing thing you’d probably spoken in your entire life.

“You’re nice. This is a disaster. I’ve never cooked before.” He explains. Yeah, you figured that.

“You were surprising me with breakfast?” You ask as Choso looks down at you, his once pale cheeks had the slightest hint of blush across them. He nods his head and you smile up at him graciously. “That’s very kind of you.” He looks away, slightly dejected.

“I can clean this up and try again.” He says. You reach up and wipe the powder from his cheek and it halts his actions.

“Or we can cook breakfast together?” You ask. He’s at a loss for words, your hand is still on his cheek afterall. You raise a brow and he blinks a few times as if coming out of a haze.

“Together?” He asks as you nod your head, letting your hand drop.

“Yeah, we’ll clean this up and I’ll teach you how to properly cook, hmm?” You ask, reaching for a rag.

“Then I’ll surprise you myself tomorrow.” He says, gaining a small laugh out of you.

“Not much of a surprise if you tell me, Choso.” You say, easing the tension in Choso’s body as he smiles warmly down at you.

The cooking was the easy part. Choso was a quick learner and though sometimes he had a hard time paying attention with you so close to him he still managed to flip a pancake or two. As you set the table, Choso grabbed you both some juice. You sat down, Choso choosing to sit in the chair next to you rather than the one across from you. You gave him a smile as you two ate in comfortable silence. That was until…

“Do you have a boyfriend?” The question was so out of left field you almost spit out your drink. You wiped your lip and turned to Choso.

“What?” You asked, even though you heard him you weren’t sure if you heard him correctly.

“Do you have a boyfriend?”

“A boyfriend?” You echo, Choso nods his head. “Like… a romantic thing?” Choso slightly smirks, nodding his head again. You felt silly for that question but you were slightly off balance at the moment “Uhm… I... Why do you ask?” You feel your heartbeat in your chest with the way Choso looks at you.

“So you’re single?” He asks, sort of doubling down on his question. You stare at him for a moment.

“Yeah,” You say finally. “There isn’t much time to date around at school, so…”

“Oh,” Choso says. You watch him curiously as he sort of calmly returns to eating his food for a moment. He leans slightly closer to you, his voice taking a slightly more serious tone. “Could you make time?”

“Make time… for a boyfriend?” You ask. Choso’s eyes flicker between your eyes and your lips as he nods his head.

“Yes.”

“I guess… it would depend.” You say, your heart in your throat. Has he always been this close? His eyes land back on yours and stay there.

“On what?”

“On who it is.” You answer and watch the corners of his mouth turn up just slightly in a small smile. He continues to hold eye contact, even as he takes a drink.

“How about me?” There’s silence for a moment. You're dumbfounded. Choso’s enthralled in you. Once things settle a bit in your mind an amused scoff passes your lips.

“Is this… Choso, are you asking me out?”

“And if I am?” He counters. Where did all this… confidence come from? You didn’t even think Choso knew what romance and relationships beyond family were. Nevertheless you blush at his remark. “I’m hoping you say yes.”

“I… wish I could.” You say, looking away. Choso notices your chance in demeanor. His smile fades just a bit as he asks.

“Why not?”

“I… lost a lot of people during the incident in Shibuya. I’m just afraid that if… you become any more important to me than fate will take you like all the others.” You say, looking back at your plate of food. Your words were bullshit, he was already very important to you, there was nothing you could do to change that but hopeless you tried. Tried to cling to the last bit of sanity you had left. The last bit of yourself that wasn’t consumed with grief. Choso’s expression softens at your words. He could understand exactly what you meant.

“I’m afraid of losing you too.” He says. There is silence before you look up, meeting his eyes. He takes in a breath and scoots just a bit closer to you. Just enough to speak in a quiet voice. “But I would much rather have a chance to be happy and live in that gnawing fear rather than spending my life alone thinking of what could’ve been.” Your heart swells at his words. A warm smile spreads slowly on your lips.

“That’s… that sounds nice, Choso.”

“Thank you. I guess I’m a bit of a hopeless romantic.”

“Not all hopeless.” You say and watch the blush just grow. He looks down at the smile on your soft lips and raises his brows slightly.

“Can I…”

“Can you?”

“Kiss you?” His voice is barely louder than a whisper, despite the butterflies raving in his stomach he keeps his eyes on you. You suck in a breath but after a moment you nod your head. Choso’s smile widens, his heart skipping a beat as he gently reaches out to brush a loose lock of your hair away from your face. When he’s sure he has your complete attention he leans in to you and presses his lips very gently against yours. After a serene moment he pulls back, pressing a kiss to your forehead before pressing his forehead to yours. “So… Can I be yours?”

“Did you have so much fun?” Was the first sentence out of Gojo’s mouth the moment you walked in the door. You ignored him, the man was clearly jealous you had gone on a date. You stripped off your jacket, hanging it on the coat rack near the door. Your hair was slightly wet from the rain so you wrung it out on the front door mat. You heard Gojo getting up from the couch and you sighed.

“Don’t you have your own place? Or at least someone better to annoy?” You sibilated as you kicked off your shoes.

“What kind of man lets his date walk in the rain?” He huffs.

“I don’t mind the rain. Nor do I mind walking.” You retort, looking up at Gojo. He looked… stressed to say the least. His hair is a mess, it looked as though he ran his fingers through it at least a hundred times.

“You might not mind but you could get a cold.” He says. You laugh, rolling your eyes.

“Alright, dad. I’m heading to bed.” You say, walking towards your room. Gojo catches your wrist as you walk by.

“Did you have fun?” He asks, the words sounding pained.

“So so much fun.” You returned sarcastically. It was a fine date, but that was all. It wasn’t remarkable and you probably wouldn’t go out again with him. Gojo swallows, biting on his lower lip gently.

“Where’d you guys eat?”

“A burger place.”

“You hate burgers.” Gojo points out.

“He doesn’t know that.” You sigh. “And besides they had other foods.”

“He should know it.”

“Satoru,” You demurred. Gojo’s eyes cut to yours and a moment of tension sparked. “I just met him.”

“Didn’t he take what you like into account.”

“Are you jealous or something?” You ask amused.

“Yes.” Gojo answers simply. You blink a few times. “Yes. I’m very fucking jealous.”

“Oh.” Is all you can say. It was surprising.

“Oh?” Gojo mocks, running his hand through his hair. “I thought I was making it very clear about my jealousy.”

“I don’t read people well. And maybe instead of pouting like a kid you could’ve just asked me out yourself instead of pestering me after each date.” You hiss, pulling your wrist out of his grip. Gojo raises his eyebrows as if he hadn’t thought of that. “You’re hopeless, Sat-” Gojo leans into you, pressing his lips to yours, cutting off your sentence. You jolt at the contact. The kiss setting fires in places that had been long waterlogged. You shiver as Gojo’s hand slides against your face, his other around your hip, drawing you closer to him.

“Will you let me take you out?”He whispers against your lips. "Please?"

“And the flights are all booked?” Nanami asks as you nod your head with a smile. Nanami smiles warmly back at you.

“Good girl, are you ready to go?”

“Uh huh.” You say as you reach for your bags but Nanami beats you to it, lifting them with ease. You thank him as you two climb into the cab. You pull up the flight information as Nanami buckles your seat belt.

“You look very pretty.” He whispers to you, sending chills down your spine. Your eyes cut up to his in surprise. You weren’t dressed up, just in an old sweatshirt he loaned you at the Christmas office party three years ago and your dad’s old sweatpants.

“T-thank you.” You return, your voice small. Nanami gives you another small smile. You look away, slightly flustered and back at your phone. For the most part you and Nanami’s relationship had been pretty professional. You were glad that he let your little mishap from two weeks ago pass after you profusely apologized. You had drank just a bit too much at one of his conferences and on the way back up to your guy’s rooms that were directly across from each other you kissed him. You were drunk and Nanami was a gentleman, he let you down very easily and helped you into bed before leaving for his own room. But… ever since that night Nanami had acted slightly differently towards you. Less professional, more open. He laughed more, smiled more. You two went out for dinner at least three times in the last week. And for this conference he’d sprung for everything nice, the biggest hotel room, first class and even planned to stay a few days after the conference so he could show you around his home town. Nanami had been treating you like something special for a while but now it was turned up a dial. He was constantly carrying things for you, buying things you merely looked at. It made you think how lucky the girl that ended up with him would be.

As you two landed and headed towards the hotel Nanami held the door open for you, even as he carried your luggage.

“Are you sure I can’t help carry something, sir?” You ask as Nanami just gives you a gentle nod of the head and drapes his jacket over your shoulder as you two walk out into the cold. It was winter and when Nanami grew up it was freezing. You blush as you slide into another cab, Nanami beside you.

“Warm enough?” He asks, noticing you slightly shivering.

“It’s cold here.” You remark as Nanami nods his head, moving closer to you, wrapping an arm around your shoulder. You freeze, heart lurching into your throat at the movement.

“Better?” He asks as you nod your head quickly. Nanami was like a personal heater and the moment you warmed up you dozed off. You woke up to Nanami’s calm voice as the cab pulled up to the hotel. “Let’s get you inside.” He says.

The hotel room was like an apartment. Two rooms, a pool on the balcony, though it was entirely too cold for that. There was a giant shared bathroom the size of your apartment back home. You marveled as you walked inside. It was nice and warm, the inside sort of like a log cabin, with warm wooden decor and buffalo check red and black curtains. It looked like something right out of a Christmas movie. Nanami ordered room service as you cleaned up. He set the table and by the time you got out of shower and changed the food was here. You sat across from him at the little table by the window as he poured you a glass of wine. You smiled at him, hunger twisting your stomach.

“You’re too kind. This all is very fancy.”

“You deserve it.” He says warmly. You can’t help but blush. You can’t help but wish you weren’t just his assistant.

“You make my job easy.” You say as Nanami chuckles.

“So do you.” He returns. You blush even harder as you eat, he got you your favorite food and favorite type of wine. If you weren’t his assistant you would assume he was being romantic. After a few glasses of wine you decide enough is enough.

“Sir… uhm.” You struggle with your words. “Can I ask you something?”

“Of course, darling.” He returns. His voice is like warm honey. It makes you crumble, makes your thought train derail.

“Uh… well um… I was wondering… do you or… I guess are you… seeing someone?” You bumble out. Nanami raises his brows and you suddenly feel embarrassed.

“I am. Seeing you, aren’t I?” He says. For a moment you're frozen and then you laugh.

“I meant… romantically.” You clarify.

“I know what you meant.” Nanami says. For a moment you stare at him. Trying to reel in this moment, trying to understand.

“I don’t… understand.” You say and watch Nanami laugh warmly.

“I was hoping you’d catch on yourself.” Nanami carefully reaches across the table. “You never had to apologize for kissing me, dear. I… have wanted to kiss you for a long while.”

“You what?” You echo as he brings your hand to his lips and kisses your knuckles. You blush like crazy.

“I have wanted to kiss you for years. You just beat me to it.”

“I… Uh. W-wow. I can’t believe I’ve been so stupid.” You laugh. “You’ve been taking me out on dates?”

“Uh huh.”

“And buying me things as presents.”

“Yes, dear.”

“I’m so stupid.” You laugh as Nanami shakes his head, standing up and walking around the table. He bends to his knees beside you, looking up at you. Your hand is still in his as he kisses you knuckles again.

“You’re not stupid. I should’ve just told you.” He says. You smile at him, biting your lips slightly.

“So… you like me back?” Stupid question but Nanami doesn’t say anything. He just slowly kisses his way up your arm, sending chills down your body. His lips meet your shoulder, then your neck and you gasp.

“I do, darling. Very much so.” He whispers against your jaw as he places soft kisses there.

“You want to date me?” You blurt out, your voice a husky whisper.

“So badly.” He answers. “It’s killing me.” His hand snakes up and he gently turns your face so your lips are millimeters apart. “May I kiss y-” You push forwards meeting his lips with fever.

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cherryapplefish · 1 month ago

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Summer Thoughts

Caleb x Reader

Rated: E for everyone

Word Count: 1.3k

A/N: yah you call Caleb ge/gege in here. no, it's honorifics because your character starts off as 8! view this in the way you guys read about girls calling older guys "oppa" please. it's not meant to be anything more than that. caleb and mc are written as children here half the time. hope this helps.

You never actually learn how to ride a bike.

And you don’t figure this out till you’re 13.

At this point in your life, you’ve only gone bike riding with Caleb. He was the one who taught you so of course he’s the one who takes you.

“Why do you need to learn,” he asks, brows furrowing together half in confusion and half in annoyance. You huff and stomp your foot. You’re eight and all the other kids in the neighborhood know how to ride a bike but you’re still sitting on the back of Caleb’s.

“You can just ride with me. I’ll take you wherever you need to go,” he continues. You roll your eyes, crossing your arms as you try to seem serious. Like a grown up.

Caleb just stifles a laugh as he tries not to look away but you can see the mirth sparkling in his eyes and it makes you want to reach out and smack him for being so mean to you. You want to be taken seriously and:

“The other kids left me because they didn’t have a seat for me and I didn’t know how to take yours. Teach me, gege.”

You whine, switching up tactics and latching your arms around his in an attempt to act cute. Caleb usually always gives in if you’re cute enough and when he doesn’t react, you press your cheek to his arm, squirming against him like the child you are.

“Please. Please. Please.”

Caleb sighs before a soft smile spreads across his face. He reaches out, fingers ruffling your hair before agreeing.

That had been then.

Now, you’re thirteen and stomping back inside with scraped knees and tears tracking down your cheeks. You purse your lips to keep them from quivering and head straight for Caleb.

He pokes his head out of the kitchen when he hears the door slam and alert him of your presence, his eyes bright.

“Hey pipsqueak- woah, what happened to you,” he says, setting down the wooden spoon he’d been using to stir the pot of braised pork he’d been making for dinner. He can see the way your cheek is redder on one side compared to the other and immediately makes his way over to you.

You meet him halfway there and before he can get another word out, you sock him in the arm. You barely leave a mark but Caleb hisses in surprise, rubbing the spot.

“Hey! What was that for? What happened,” he asks. There’s concern in his gaze as he reaches out to pull a leaf out of your hair. It’s clear you’ve taken a pretty bad tumble and for some reason, it’s his fault.

“You’ve been using your evol on me when we ride bikes haven’t you,” you ask and he freezes. You can see the guilt flash across his face before he schools it into a practiced smile. The jerk! That was confession enough!

“You caught me,” he answers, a cheeky grin on his face. He anticipates your movements before you do, fingers wrapping around your wrist that threaten to punch him once more. His grip is tight but not bruising and you huff as you try to pull away but he doesn’t let go and so instead you try the other one.

Caleb knows you inside and out so he stops that arm too and now, the both of you are standing in the middle of the living room. You, huffing with anger and embarrassment, and Caleb, guiltily smiling with both of your hands in his.

“Caleb! Do you know how embarrassing it was? I fell. As soon as I got on and tried to push, I fell because you didn’t bother to teach me properly,” you argue and you see the guilty look on Caleb’s face before he pulls you into his chest. He wraps his arms around you, patting the back of your head.

“Aw, I’m sorry pips,” he says but you can tell he’s trying not to laugh. “I just got scared every time I saw you leaning to one side so I used my evol. I didn’t think you actually couldn’t ride a bike without my help.”

It’s a half truth, he thinks as he bites back a laugh when you begin to hit his back. It’s fine. He’ll let you get out all your anger as long as you rely on him for help.

“It was so embarrassing, ge,” you complain before slowly you fist your fingers into his shirt. “I scraped my knees and fell on my face. It hurt a lot.”

Caleb knows. He’d seen it all when you came in and pursing his lips together, he pulls back to examine you properly. Normally, he’d cup your face and get a good look but he doesn’t want to risk hurting you more than you already feel.

With a soft sigh, he strokes your cheek.

“I’m sorry pipsqueak. I really am. I’ll make it up to you and actually teach you how to ride a bike okay?”

You look away when he pulls back, fingers still fisted in his shirt but you nod anyways.

As long as he actually taught you.

Caleb is a liar.

He still never actually taught you how to ride a bike and now, you’re 22 and staring Caleb down as he pats the backseat of his bike with a grin.

“Jump on, pips,” he tells you and you cross your arms, huffing as you turn your nose up.

You think back to thirteen and scraped knees and immediately get mad at him.

“Don’t wanna,” you argue and Caleb laughs. You’re tugged in by nothing but you’ve been around Caleb long enough now that you know he’s using his evol to pull you closer. You don’t even yelp as you’re lifted onto the seat but you do look away as you cross your legs.

It has Caleb laughing even more. He took pleasure in watching you be an absolute brat.

“You’re not still mad I never taught you how to ride a bike are you,” he asks and there’s that same sparkle in his eyes from all those years ago.

After he had promised, he had made excuses.

He was too busy to teach you. He was too tired to go outside and they could build models instead. He would just take you on the back of his to save time.

It’d been excuse after excuse and before you knew it, Caleb had gone off to Skyhaven for college and you still hadn’t learned how to ride a bike.

Could you have learned on your own? Yes but…but it was scary when you didn’t have Caleb around to catch you. And so you’d never learned.

Now, that unfulfilled promise comes back to mind when Caleb suggests a bike ride along the river.

When you huff in response, his grin widens.

“I’ll teach you next time,” he promises and you glare at him and he loves it because at least your gaze is back on him once more.

“You said that last time!”

“I mean it this time,” he replies, his grin wide and full of delight. You have to look away in case you melt and agree like you always do.

He leans over then, one arm wrapped around your waist to steady you as he presses a kiss to your temple.

“Promise,” he whispers softly into your skin.

You smack him away, a complaint on the tip of your tongue but you hold back and instead, your fingers curl into his shirt.

“Just pedal,” you grumble, forcing him to face forward as you press a burning cheek to his back. Your eyes glance over the glimmering river as the last of the sun's rays sparkle across it but you’re too focused on how warm Caleb’s back feels, the sound of his laughter vibrating in his chest.

You press closer, hold him tighter just as he had wanted, and inhale.

Somehow, even after all these years, Caleb still smells like home.

i don't know how to ride a bike and if caleb were real, this is exactly how i imagine caleb would react lmaooo

"You don't need to learn. Just ride with me."

excuses because he wants you to hug his waist hahahahah

#caleb #caleb x you #lads caleb #caleb x mc #caleb x reader #love and deepspace #fanfic #today on lilly shutup #also the gege thing is honorifics to me in this situation #caleb just adores mc because that his baby for the first 2/3 of this #no discourse on my blog i'm here for fun and wont be discussing any opinion on this #anyways while im still yapping in the tags #ive been really into writing #thanks for making this fun everyone #i hope you enjoyed my hc into a snippet of caleb and mc's childhood together

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linkspooky · 1 year ago

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So I was genuinely surprised last week when we were finally shown Megumi's mental state inside Sukuna and he was predictably at his lowest point ever, and instead of sympathy from the fans most of the responses on twitter I saw were people mocking him.

Which I am going to assume comes from a misunderstanding as his character. You see Megumi doesn't fit into the role of the black haired supporting protagonist / rival well. He's not Sasuke, he's not Uryu Ishida, he's not Yuno but he's not meant to be a rival or even a typical shonen character who's progress is only measured by a series of power ups. Megumi is perhaps one of the most subtly written characters in the manga, and perhaps he's hard to sympathize with because he doesn't fit into easy to udnerstand shonen tropes. Which is why I will try to explain his arc below and why Jujutsu Kaisen does it like no other manga currently running.

1. Meet Potential Man

Let me introduce you to the worst meme on twitter.

Megumi's inability to live up to his potential to reach his full power as a sorcerer is probably his biggest flaw, one that is rightfully called out by the narrative again and again, but apparently an intentionally written character flaw is bad writing.

It's covered in Gojo's "Swing for the fences" speech.

Gojo notices Megumi bunt in the baseball game and decides to confront him about it later. He highlights that while bunting is alright in baseball, and it's good to sacrifice yourself so your teammates can advance in a team sport that being a sorcerer is a solo sport. No matter what Megumi is going to reach a point where he's forced to fight alone, and instead of trying to push himself to be as strong as he can be he intentionally limits himself to cooperate with the sorcerers around him.

Basically, the opposite of Gojo who literally cannot fight with other sorcerers because he won't be able to fight at full strength as they just get in the way.

It's not just that Megumi can't use the ten shadows to its full potential, something pointed out by Sukuna, and then later again by Gojo, it's also that he always prioritizes either the group or someone else above himself when trying to decide how to act. Megumi is a semi-decent strategist so this is not necessarily a bad thing, but because of Megumi's tendency to care more about trying to live up to other people's expectations towards him, and what other people need of him rather than his own needs he doesn't have the attitude necessary for sorcery, especially since the strongest sorcerers don't take others into account at all and act like living calamities.

Megumi doesn't look at himself, he looks at the people around him. He judges himself based on what the people around him want from him, not what he wants. This is going to be a continual theme in his arc.

Sukuna is a living calamity, the definition of the attitude a strong sorcerer has, Gojo Satoru wields sorcerery only for himself, and is a sorcerer because he finds exorcising curses and using his god given talents to be fun for him.

Megumi's reason for fighting, his self worth, are all much, much less than the strongest characters in this series which is why he continually fails to live up to his potential. It's not because Gege is not good at writing or Megumi is a disappointing character, but rather he's been written as someone with tremendous potential under the pressure to live up to that potential but who continually fails to do so. Megumi's low self-esteem, low self-worth, and lack of self-identity explains both his failure to progress as a sorcerer something that requires selfishness and self-identity to reach greater heights in, but also his tendency to pick the suicide option with Mahoraga because Megumi genuinely believes compared to the others even just his classmates his life is simply worth less.

So potential man, is an intentionally written character flaw already called out in canon. The more interesting question is why does Megumi fail to live up to his potential.

2. Meet The Original Potential Man

So, I said that Megumi is not like a lot of characters in Shonen Jump but that doesn't mean he's entirely unique. To help explain Megumi's inability to live up to his potential I thought it would be helpful to compare him to a character he's clearly inspired by.

Killua Zoldyck, is the deuteragonist of a manga called hunter x hunter. You may have heard of it, Gege certainly has. Killua is born into a family of assassins who all have supernatural powers. The assassins inflict incredibly harsh training on their children from birth in order to raise them into assassins because their potential as assassins is all that matters. They also start with a "Z".

Killua is apparently the most talented Zen'in... I mean Zoldyck of this generation, though he's still young so he's weaker than his father and brother he's expected to easily surpass them one. Which is why Killua's family has already decided for him that he's going to be the next one to take over the family, Killua's opinion doesn't matter. Illumi and Silva are both setting him up for success by forcing their "help" upon him. Several other members of the family even point out that Killua probably doesn't have the attitude to be the head of the family, but what does it matter when he's got such great talent?

Killua is a complicated victim. He's a victim of many things, familial abuse is the most obvious one because the Zoldyck have a nasty habit of torturing their children, but the less obvious one is grooming. Not in a sexual sense, but rather the adults in Killua's life have decided to use their authority over him to manipulate him into becoming what they want him to be - the next head of the family.

What's insidious about this is the Zoldyck's don't just torture or beat Killua into submission, they will use any tool in their arsenal, familial love, emotional blackmail, threats, all to undermine Killua's agency and choices in order to make him not only do what they want to do but make him think he has to grow into the person they want him to.

Grooming not in a sexual sense, but definitely in a psychological sense, an adult using their authority as an adult over a child and their maturity to manipulate that child into becoming what they want them to be instead of letting that child grow naturally. When it's used in a sexual sense it's when an adult establishes a connection with a minor, and then uses that connection in the long-term to manipulate them into having a relationship and lower the child's inhibition. Think of that, but without the sexual part - an adult using their relationship with a child often in a long-term manipulation to lower the child's inhibitions and make them more malleable and raise them to do what you want them to do.

Killua has not been sexually groomed, but he has been groomed by both his parents and his brother to make him more suggestible to becoming the family head which is something he explicitly does not want to do. Not only did Killua's family only raise him for the purpose of becoming an assassin and taking over the family one day (raising him as a child into an adult, his emotional maturity, his health and well being are all secondary priorities to what Killua can do for his family) they also manipulate him into thinking he has no choice other than being an assassin.

Killua is a kid put through extremely harsh training from a young age, to do a horrible job that is being an assassin that doesn't let him make normal friends or have a normal life. On top of the physical abuse he's already endured, whenever he expresses a desire to do something else in his life, his parents send Illumi to emotionally manipulate him into thinking that not only is he a natural born killer, and therefore a bad person who deserves all the abuse he's been put through, to further convince him that his only path forward is to be an assassin.

Killua is a character who has a lot of power, but little agency. Agency, in fiction is the ability a character has to take action and make decisions for themselves. Despite Killua starting as a more powerful and more savvy character than Gon, he has little agency and is often very passive. He doesn't act, he reacts. Even running away from his family is a reaction. We don't really see what he wants in life, we just know that he looked at his family and went "NOT THAT". However, his entire identity is still formed in response to his family's abuse. Even when he gets farther away from them, Killua doesn't really do what he wants, he does what Gon wants, and follows around Gon.

However, it's very understandable why Killua doesn't act with a lot of agency, when Killua does try to make decisions his family always shows up to undermine him and make another attempt to emotionally manipulate him into doing what they want. It's not always Illumi showing up to spook him. Silva pretends to be a loving dad for five minutes and has a heart to heart conversation with his son, and lets his son go adventuring with his friends but that too is a manipulation. He only did so to make sure Killua would eventually come back, by giving Killua more positive memories that would make it harder to make the decision to leave the family.

With the extent that Killua's family goes to sabotage any decision he makes, it's no wonder Killua is so passive and afraid to make his own decisions. It's almost like a character flaw he's gotta work on.

Now here's where I'm going to blow your minds. Megumi is an incredibly similar character to Killua, they are both the victims of longterm grooming however people don't like to acknowledge Megumi's victimhood. That's because in Killua's case, his abuser looks and acts like this.

Killua's abuser Illumi is a creepy guy who looks like the girl from the grudge, telling him he's not allowed to make friends and giving off such rancid vibes that he's obviously a bad guy. Whereas, Megumi's groomer this this guy.

Gojo Satoru who is one of the most popular characters in the series, and who also gives speeches about how he wants to let children be able to live out their youths, which is why it's hard for the fandom to see that he has taken advantage of Megumi and stolen his youth away from him pretty much the same way that Silva / Illumi has for Killua.

Megumi, like Killua has no choice in who he wants to be when he grows up, or what kind of person he wants to grow into. Megumi, like Killua has been groomed for a young age and forced into an incredibly dangerous and life threatening job that he does not want to do, that denies him the chance of a normal life, and that does not really allow him to make many friends. Megumi is railroaded onto this path, not by his choice, but by Toji's choice, and later Gojo's choice... because he has potential. Megumi like Killua cannot leave his family and stop being a sorcerer, otherwise his little sister who is the only family member he cares about will be hurt.

Gojo doesn't show up with an evil aura looking like the grudge girl and telling Megumi that he doesn't have the right to make friends, and that he's inherently evil and a puppet that only exists to kill people though so it's harder to tell that Megumi is a victim of the same kind of grooming that has hurt Killua so thoroughly.

This is what I mean when I say a lot of Megumi's characterization flies over your head because his victimization is written really subtly. Gojo does the same thing that Illumi / Silva does to Killua, he may seem like a stand up guy compared to those two but Megumi has about as much choice about what he can do with his life that Killua has.

Not all grooming is Illumi showing up with his spooky eyes to intimidate and coerce Killua into submission. Silva shows up to give Killua the first fatherly talk he had in his life, and lets him go from the mansion.... not because he realized he was wrong for restricting Killua's life choices and giving him no choice but to become heir.

No, it was a ploy to guilt trip him into coming back because he knew if he held Killua there by force he'd just run away the next chance he got. Fear and intimidation wasn't working at keeping Killua in line, so they switched to love instead.

Gojo can encourage Megumi to make friends, let him hang out and spend time with Itadori, even honor his wish to save Itadori and in the end still be manipulating him into becoming a sorcerer and not letting Megumi choose what he wants to do with his life. Gojo just prefers the carrot to the stick.

This is something the databooks confirm, that Gojo hunts prospects like Yuta, Yuji and Megumi not out of the goodness of his heart, but because they are talented students he can recruit to his cause with the added bonus that by appearing as their savior, they "owe" him.

Megumi is also a character lacking in agency, he is someone who's had no agency his entire life and what little agency he did have was stolen away from him by the adults in his life.

Let's analyze Megumi's situation for a second. As soon as Megumama dies, Toji gives up on the idea of fatherhood entirely, and decides to sell his son, literally, like in the sense of human trafficking to be raised by the highly abusive Zen'in Clan.

However, before the deal could be completed his father died in the middle of a mission. Megumi apparently saw his father so little that he didn't recognize him on coming face to face with him years alter, which says a lot about what kind of role Toji played in Megumi's life before he was outright abandoned.

Not only does Megumi believe his father just left him to run away with his new wife (Megumi's stepmother and the mother of Tsumiki) but now he and Tsumiki had to live together in a household without supervision for an indeterminate amount of time and watch their money slowly run out.

When it looks like they're about to start starving, Gojo Satoru shows up to save the day.... or not.

Gojo seems like he's offering Megumi a choice, but it's a loaded one. There's no choice in this scenario where Megumi gets to be a normal kid. The option of calling social services so this orphaned child does not starve doesn't occur to him.

Megumi's options are a) go to the Zen'in Clan and be a sorcerer where Tsumiki will be abused, or b) be a sorcerer under me where Tsumiki will be safe. The unspoken part is that if Megumi rejects his offer not only will he just let the Zen'in Take him, he'll also probably just let Megumi starve. Megumi the uh six or so year old child at this point has to sign away the rest of his life as a sorcerer, and work in order to earn money to eat.

No adult is taking care of Megumi, no one is raising him, even the food and shelter Megumi is given comes with a price tag that he has to pay back by being a Jujutsu Sorcerer and attending Jujutsu High as a teenager. Gojo even kind of subtly uses Tsumiki as a hostage to get Megumi to join with his agenda, because his offer isn't really much better than the Zen'ins but he needs Megumi on his side because he needs to raise kids to be future allies to his political agenda.

At the tender age of six Megumi signed his life away to be a sorcerer and he hasn't looked back since. Considering his severe behavioral problems getting into fights constantly at school, I think it's safe to say Megumi is about as reluctant to be a sorcerer as Killua is an assassin.

Honestly, if Megumi had phrased it like this:

"I'm so tired of being a sorcerer, I just want to be a kid."

Megumi would have a lot more fans, and Gojo would have a lot of explaining to do, but I think the brilliance of Megumi's grooming is that it's not really as blatant as Killua's. Megumi doesn't talk out loud about how he wants to be a normal kid, he's just angry at the whole world, and prone to fits of violence because he's mentall unwell.

Another way in which he parallels Killua, by the way.

Megumi does not talk about his lost childhood out loud. Instead of knowing his thoughts on the matter, instead we are shown his behavior, the effects of having his childhood taken away from him and how unstable it makes him and left to ponder as the audience what Megumi himself thinks of this.

The same way that Illumi steals all of Killua's agency away, robbing him of the chance to be anything other than what the Zoldycks want him to be, so to does Gojo. It's just instead of Gojo using the stick, he uses the carrot. He is Megumi's benefactor, he's the savior, for whose help Megumi owes him, sort of like repaying a loan with interest.

Gojo tries to shape Megumi into Gojo Satoru 2.0. Or maybe a second Geto. That's more likely as it's Geto defection which inspires Gojo to go looking for him after neglecting to do anything about Megumi until a year after finding out about his existence. Gojo says that Megumi is going to have to work hard or else he'll be left behind, just days after Geto had left him behind. Megumi is helped by Gojo, he is protected from the clans by Gojo, he has been taken on missions alongside Gojo his entire life, Maki even refers to Megumi as a treasure that was raised carefully by him.

Gojo invests a lot of time and effort into Megumi and because of that Megumi is expected to "perform." However, he doesn't.

That's the thing, Megumi is supposed to be either Gojo or Geto 2.0 but he just can't be. THe reason why again is Agency. If Killua is limited because of his inability to decide for himself, then so to is Megumi b/c Nen and Cursed Technique Development both depend on things like imagination, ego and self-image to raise them up to their full potential.

However, Gojo has shot himself in the foot with regards to Megumi. Becoming a Jujutsu Sorcerer requires a strong identity, but Gojo by sabotaging Megumi's agency and ability to decide for himself every step of the way has robbed Megumi of the chance to form that strong identity.

Megumi, just like Killua has no sense of self and instead both judges himself according to others, how he meets their expectations, how he measures up to them - he also glorifies others while constantly putting himself down.

Megumi doesn't give speeches about how Yuji is like pure light, but he also refuses to let Yuji out of his sight post Shibuya, and even says it'd be better to be killed by Sukuna alongside Yuji if Sukuna does take over.

In the Chimera Ant Arc Killua defines all of his self-worth around being useful to Gon, and beats himself up for not being able to measure up to him - because Killua has no sense of self his selfhood has always been undermined by his family who wanted to make him more suggestible to what they wanted.

Megumi is flippant with his own life and very willing to lay down his life for another's sake, because Megumi has very little agency in his life and has been taught by both Gojo and his circumstances that he himself and what he wants does not matter. Megumi doesn't fight fate, and fight for what he wants because he's already been shot in the kneecaps by both Toji's abandonment, and Gojo Satoru, and he's having a difficult time just trying to stand with bullets in his knees.

Maybe, the reason Megumi is so willing to risk his life to summon Mahoraga and sacrifice himself if he thinks it will help his allies is because Megumi has been forced into a job where he's gonig to be expected to sacrifice his life for the greater good since the tender age of six years old and therefore everything in life has conspired to tell him his life is worth less than others.

Yuji isn't the first person in story to think of himself as a cog, that's Megumi. He doesn't even need Shibuya to beat him down to accept the cog mindset, Megumi is already there at the beginning of the story.

I think a lot of misunderstanding of Megumi's character comes from the fact that his grooming is more subtle and insidious, and not as blatant as Killua's, and also that it's done by a character well-liked by the fandom. However, if Megumi has all the same symptoms of Killua then it's logical to deduce that they share the same trauma

Even Megumi's summoning of Mahoraga has a tie to Killua.

There's a pattern of KIllua running away from stronger opponent that's established in HXH that's eventually revealed to be because of a needle that Illumi inserted directly into Killua's brain to mind control him to run if he faced someone that was too much of a threat.

Obviously, that's just continuing the metaphor of the fact that Killua isn't able to believe in himself to face people who are stronger, because Illumi has been constantly putting him down his entire life.

Isn't this essentially what Megumi does as well?

When Megumi is faced with an opponent that's too strong or a hopeless situation, instead of running like Killua he summons Mahoraga. He does this because he doesn't believe in his ability to surpass his limits and fight, because he doesn't believe in himself or his own potential.

When is actually able to think more freely and picture a version of himself who can surpass his limits and who can do these things - these are the moments he is shown to grow.

Megumi however, for the most part isn't free. He can't think of himself as free and he can't free himself, because not only does he still have no choice about what he wants to do with his life (even if he becomes the msot powerful sorcerer in the world Gojo won't let him quit, he's gotta pay off those student loans), but he's also internalized the idea that he's not free. Not only has Gojo raised him to be a cog, Megumi has also accepted the fact that he is a cog and what he wants does not matter - the most he can do is hope that his actions will protect the people he loves and give them a little bit of happiness.

Megumi doesn't need a needle in his brain to control him and make him run away from fights and more obedient, because Megumi has already done all of that to himself with the toxic and self-harming ideas he's internalized.

Megumi and Killua having given up on themselves, try to make others happy, the same people they put on pedestals in order to make themselves feel even worse in comparison.

However, from this point Megumi and Killuas arcs go in opposite directions. You see after the Chimera Ant Arc when Killua hits his lowest point and his codependent friendship with Gon is exposed for what it is, Killua returns home in order to try and rescue his sister Alluka who is probably the reason he ran away in the first place.

Alluka and Tsumiki are both at the start of the story taken away from Killua and Megumi respectively, and with them the only genuine familial affection they ever enjoyed in their lives is taken too.

However, Alluka and Tsumiki are inversions. Alluka finds her freedom and agency, and Killua is able to reform his connection with his sister by accepting both pats of her, Alluka and Nanika. Afterwards the two of them finally leave their family home together and go off on a journey together.

If Alluka finds her personhood, Tsumiki remains a plot device. She never awakens from her coma, she's possessed instead and then murdered.

Now, here is where I point out how unfair the audience is being to Megumi. If you're a hunter x hunter fan remember all the character development that Killua gained by reforging his relationship with Alluka, how much confidence it gave him to connect to the one person who's even unconditionally loved him as a family member.

Now imagine that Alluka is brutally butchered right in front of him, and Killua has a first person point of view, because somehow in this scenario Illumi used a needle to mind control him into killing Alluka.

Do you really think Killua would be able to stand after that?

Sukuna is really just the last in line of a long line of people who've stolen Megumi's agency away from him, in order to benefit themselves. Sukuna even saw the same "potential" in Megumi that Gojo did.

Sukuna physically posessing Megumi's body, is just what both the Zen'in Clan, and Gojo Satoru have been trying to do to him in the most literal way possible. Gojo wants to remake Megumi into Gojo Satoru 2.0 with no regards to who Megumi is as a person, what Megumi's wants and needs are. No he just wants to raise someone as strong as him and pass the burden of protecting society onto Megumi, this starving orphan Gojo decided to exploit.

People have always used Megumi as a puppet for their own agenda, Naobito wanted to make him the head of the Zen'in Clan because he had the technique, Gojo wanted him to become the next strongest sorcerer / Gojo Satoru and also to replace the elders with Gojo's political agenda. They all want Megumi's "potential" for themselves to use to their own ends. Sukuna just takes what Gojo did one step further by literally stealing Megumi's body away from him and using him as a literal puppet instead of a metaphorical one. Gojo took Megumi's childhood by making him work as a sorcerer, Sukuna kills the physical embodiment of Megumi's childhood innocence by murdering Tsumiki, the only thing Megumi had in his life besides being a sorcerer, his only family, the only person he grew up with in his childhood years, the only person who loved him for who he was.

Megumi coped with what Gojo did to him the same way Killua did, by building himself around his use to others, and by building his identity around protecting others but now that's all gone. Tsumiki is gone, Megumi is trying to kill his friends, and he's already butchered Gojo Satoru.

Yet the fans are surprised that Megumi doesn't immediately get back on his feet.

However, and this my slightly optimistic ending to the post. Perhaps, Megumi is going the complete opposite of Killua, because what Megumi needed to learn was not to grow strong and confident enough to protect his sister but to learn to fight for himself.

At this point Megumi has nothing else left. It's sink of swim. He either develops a strong enough identity to regain control of his body and push Sukuna out, or he loses and the anti-Sukuna team will just have to resort to killing Megumi along with Sukuna.

Even in that case.

Megumi not being saved by Yuji is a good thing.

Because a victim who gets rescued by a hero still has no agency.

Megumi told Yuji that he needs to start by "saving me."

However, it might just be the opposite. Before Megumi can save anyone else, before he can become a protector, he has to find his own power and save himself. He has to both accept thathe's someone worthy of salvation, and at the same time he can't just passively accept the hand that Yuji's offered to him he has to actively be the one to break free of Sukuna and save himself.

Megumi can't become the strongest sorcerer by becoming the next Gojo Satoru or being what Gojo or Sukuna wants him to be. THe only way Megumi can become the strongest, is by being himself.

#jjk meta #hxh meta #megumi fushiguro #killua zoldyck #gojo satoru #illumi zoldyck #ryomen sukuna #jjk spoilers #jujutsu kaisen spoilers

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