#WHEN I CATCH YOU OUTSIDE GEGE

[blackunecorn]

gege count your days 😭 i swear i can’t take it no more! to use him like that! i just-

[gojoest]

[syluses]

june seems too late

caleb (xia yizhou) x female reader (mc)

for your graduation, caleb takes two weeks off to visit. things don’t go like they should.

▻ cw. noncon elements, pseudo-cest, light smut/nsfw, dark themes, caleb is a yandere what’s new, lots of pining and unrequited love, characters are 18+

▻ notes. hey yall so caleb’s mullet is actually killing me in catch-22. anyways heed the warnings & do enjoy 🤍 you can read this on ao3 (username caked) if you prefer that :3 homeboy is actually insane but i love him he’s precious . 10k words slowburn buckle up. im planning to post lotssss of caleb, raf, and sylus stuff so keep an eye peeled!! :P

𝒉𝒆𝒂𝒓𝒕𝒔 + 𝒓𝒆𝒃𝒍𝒐𝒈𝒔 𝒂𝒓𝒆 𝒂𝒑𝒑𝒓𝒆𝒄𝒊𝒂𝒕𝒆𝒅 (๑´ `๑)♡

June comes at a breakneck speed.

Before they step out the door, she’s fussing all over the wrinkle in her robe and worrying that the cap will sit weirdly on her head.

In the car, on the way there, she doesn’t voice any more of her fears lest they intensify, but Caleb spots them all as if they’re written on her face. She fidgets and does not notice the way he looks at her.

Probably for the better, he thinks.

When they part, he gives her a pat on the shoulder (as opposed to rustling her meticulously-styled hair) and tells her not to worry. She’ll do great. This is a big day for her; he pleasantly remembers his own ceremony and urges that hers will be just as smooth.

It seems good enough for her. She’s dragged off by her friend, skipping hand-in-hand, and her nervous giggles ring in his head in a building full of noisy people. It might as well be a little pin dropping in a quiet room.

Sometimes Caleb almost forgets just how much stock that girl- his precious little meimei- puts into him and his words. It stirs something tender in his heart, and then he recalls his true feelings and it twists. Twists like a knife or the bitter truth.

There’s only a couple years between them, and yet during her graduation, Caleb can’t help but feel a sense of pride tug in his chest alongside something deeply bittersweet.

She’ll for sure be spreading her wings now. She’ll for sure be leavin’ him behind.

And he’ll have to say yes to it, that it’s fine with him. Pretend like he doesn’t care. He’s got a natural talent at dissimulating his intriciate, troublesome feelings, but it doesn’t mean he enjoys it. No, sometimes he just wishes she’d… see him. See him for what he truly is and not run in the other direction screaming, who are you and what did you do to my gege?

But that’s selfish, isn’t it? He huffs with a small, wry smile.

While waiting for the event to commence, Gran eagerly watches the stage, and Caleb lowers his head.

She’ll be spreading her wings for real, an inner voice murmurs again, rubbing it in his face. And then she’ll fly away. Never come back to you. Leave our nest to make a new one.

That, oh, that thought— Caleb’s not a generally angry person, but that has choler flaring in his chest... Imagining somebody standing by her side that isn’t him fills him with a darkness he cannot label. But he’s trying to be good, a good older brother. He’s been… trying for so long, and…

Even if he knows deep down that if he doesn’t do something, she’ll fly away—

“Beautiful, isn’t she?” Gran says beside him. She tucks her hand in the crook of his strong arm and he returns half the dimpled smile on her face.

Her words cannot be truer. His little sister is breathtaking; it’s the kind of beauty that will bring a man to his knees and plant soft longing in his heart. Evidently, though, it’s not the kind of beauty to bring a dog to heel…: she’s like a bowl of kibble and something rotten in him salivates at the smell of it.

It’s funny, you know, how much of a hypocrite he is. He gives her the saddest puppy eyes to get what he wants but there’s a big mean dog hiding in his heart. Barking and wanting.

Caleb curses himself. On the outside, he hums fondly. “Always. Hm… To be able to say I’m her big brother feels like an accomplishment in itself. I’m real proud’a her.”

Gran’s not looking at him; all eyes in the auditorium, including his, are leveled towards the stage and the spotlight raining over students shuffling in gowns. Caleb is thankful for that. Caleb has had a distinct self awareness since middle school, and he knows better than to let the love in his eyes- the kind that’s not entirely brotherly- reveal itself to any onlookers.

He’s kept on his toes by all the secrets he walks with. He’s kept on his toes by her.

“I can’t believe this day has come,” the elderly woman beside him (not tied to him by any biological means, but he loves her regardless) holds a tissue to her eyes and fights a teary smile. Caleb, utterly entranced by the familiar figure slowly inching closer to the podium and administrator, gives a noncomittal hum to show he’s heard, but his heart is knocking at the sight of his little sister. He can’t stop it. He can’t even slow it.

“Ah, my sweet girl…” (And why her sorrow-tinged, doting words echo some of the ones he keeps to himself, Caleb stopped caring.)

Gran, still not glancing at her adopted boy (albeit, there is close to nothing about Caleb that now resembles a boy), takes his large hand in her wrinkled one. Her free one dabs away an elusive tear.

“It’ll be even harder to see once she moves out and all. I’m sure she’ll want to keep exploring the world. I just… I just hope she visits more than you do, dear,” her voice warbles with sadness, but she’s only teasing him out of love.

A breathy, uneven laugh escapes his pursed lips. Caleb swallows thickly, “Yep. But that’s natural, wantin’ to find new opportunities and such... She’s really coming outta her shell, isn’t she? And… she’d better visit,” he says playfully, “The dinner table would feel awfully quiet without her during the holidays, huh?”

He’s not conscious of half the things he’s saying, operating under autopilot: robotically, he speaks in the voice of a teasing, somewhat protective older brother and nobody bats an eye to it.

On the inside, his feelings experience endless turbulence.

But he’d miss her if she left, that’s for certain. Words could never do him justice. He’s never exactly deserved that, though, has he?

He smiles to himself. Pathetic.

He told a nosey friend, once, that he had lost his marbles long ago. He’d said it with a smile- a genuine one, too- and as if it was no big deal. Because Caleb reconciled with his sin nature long ago.

He’s so proud of his meimei. So caught up by her.

Wants to marry her. Wants to blow all his pilot earnings on a big glittering ring for her precious little finger, wants to make all those childhood games, the ones where he played the dad and she the mom, come to life. Oh, if he’s being perfectly honest, he wants to—

“Caleb, honey, are you coming?”

A papery hand gives his bicep a gentle squeeze beneath his button-up. He’s pulled from his reveries and he blinks, noting the crowd as it begins to thin out and the stage that meimei has stepped off of. “She’ll be waiting for us, I’m sure. And nervous,” she explains with a light laugh, “but I think she’s very excited, too.”

(So excited to start your new life apart from me, huh, sis?)

The lower half of his face reshapes into a small smile as he looks down at Gran and nods with reassurance. He’s so good at providing consolation to others but somehow consistently fails to do so during his lone moments of self-reflection.

“I’d promised her I’d treat her to some ice cream at that new stall that just opened up,” he chuckles, and this time it does harbor some real mirth there, his eyes lighting, “I honestly think she was more excited for a special dessert than her own graduation.”

Gran laughs at that, too.

Then, he’s led away. Led to her and happy as a child.

After the ceremony ends, his very real fears of her suddenly leaving are put to rest for a moment when she leaps into his arms- just as she did when they were younger- and locks him in a hug.

He’ll always be a willing prisoner, in that regard. A slave to her affections and the strange sickness that rears its head in the pit of his stomach even when he tries his best to drown it.

She’s his lifering. The one thing keeping him afloat.

He looks over his shoulder, back at the shore. There’s a striking realization that he’s been dragged so far from it… And then he looks back out to sea.

Sometimes, Caleb thinks he’s closer to the point where the waves converge on the endless horizon than he is to dry land. And that’s fine with him. Because Meimei is holding his hand, doggy-paddling beside him.

He knows he shouldn’t try to drag her under. But sometimes, that’s all he fucking wants. For her to feel this way, too.

What a selfish gege.

✷✷✷

Caleb’s frame is hugged by an intense, golden light. Windchimes tinkle in the breeze and bring a nexus of soothing sounds.

The air is balmy. Unsmistakably summer.

You kick a pebble from your shoe and look over to Caleb with a small smile, his long legs keeping an even pace with you despite your slower one and all the dillydallying. The sun flares off one side of his head and it’s so bright you have to squint.

“It’s nearly time for dinner, you know,” even as he reminds you, he can’t fight off the grin playing at his own lips. It’s not exactly like he wants to truncate this moment with you, but hunger is creeping up on you both just as sundown is, and this brisk walk is urging it out. Your belly has voiced as much. After his laugh had died down, Caleb showed his concern but sighed when you brushed it off.

“It’s fine,” you tell him again. “I’m not fully dependent on snacks, you know,” and a dirty voice in the back of his head, a very dark corner, accuses, then what do you depend on? “We won’t starve if we eat one hour later... I mean, how hungry are you?” You poke.

(A lot. So much, Meimei.)

A casual smile curls his lips. Everything about him is so outwardly relaxed when he’s with you; it’d take some intense scrutiny to pick up on the little tells of restlessness he constantly shoehorns down inside him.

Anything to protect you though, right? Even if that means from himself.

He replies with thought, “Ehh… I guess walking a little farther wouldn’t hurt,” he shrugs with one shoulder, a teasing edge to his voice because those old habits die hard.

“Just don’t tell me to carry you if your feet start to hurt, pipsqueak.”

“Hah. As if! You know, I’ve been training a lot. Those hunter exams might even be harder than the Aviation’s.” Your light banter is rewarded with a small, incredulous laugh and a playful raise of his brow. Right now, he looks so boyish, youth lighting his face even as you pass under the tinsel-like leaves of a shady willow tree. “I’m serious, Caleb! My body’s probably more endurant than yours now.”

A challenge is brewing, and the signs are obvious. The anticipating glint in his eye, the slight posturing in his steps and the downright valorous grin you pin at him— all are suggestive of an upcoming game. He just has to throw his own hat over the wall to officially mark its start.

Of course, he does just that.

“Oh, really now?” He smiles and his eyes crinkle with amusement. He gives his head a tilt. “Are you trying to provoke me, sis? ‘Cause I’ll have you know that these muscles aren’t just for show...”

With a pout, you give his arm, thick and fully exposed under the frayed fabric of his tank, a harmless shove. Caleb’s heart has an anomalistic skip and his bicep tingles. It takes a considerable amount of effort to not snatch your little wrist up and force you to do it again.

“Oh, c’mon, you may be all big and strong now, but all that muscle will just slow you down.” (You’re getting him all sorts of riled up today, aren’t you? It’s good to know you look at him, that you acknowledge the man he’s become.)

“Do you wanna test that theory? We could do a race,” he suggests simply, a fluctuation of excitement in his voice betraying itself. “Because I’m ready to go right now.”

You huff, competitive as ever. “Oh, we’ll see about that!”

You roll your cropped sleeves an inch over your shoulders (as if to replicate his sleeveless tee) and Caleb watches with humor as they unfurl immediately. You dart your head around and land on a streetlamp at the end of the quiet, cobbled path.

”There,” you point, “that light over there will be the finish line. You have to touch it before the other person does or you lose. You’ll be a rotten egg.”

“You’re so childish.”

“You’re racing too, y’know.”

“Alright, alright,” he easily surrenders, lifting his palms up. Truthfully, he has no intentions of backing out now, try as he might to pretend he’s not equally invested in this as you. He sets his feet behind a crack in the paved stone, right beside yours, and nonchalantly prepares himself for liftoff. “But when I win—“

“Your toe’s in front of the line, Gege! Don’t think I didn’t see it!”

“—Don’t go cryin’ to Gran like old times and ignore me for the rest of the day, okay?”

A fleeting pink colors your cheeks, flowering across your face like a bruise at the mention. “Geez,” you deflect bashfully, “You’re so caught up in the past, Caleb.”

The accusation isn’t unwarranted. Your older brother has this strange penchant to keep all your childhood traits like a bag of tokens in his back pocket, forever ready to pull one out on a whim.

His gaze lowers for a moment at your innocuous teasing, and you watch with a mix of confusion and guilt as an offhand sadness weighs in his expression.

You open your mouth, about to find something to remedy the ever so slight shift in the air, but he lifts his head and his eyes are cheerful. Sunny and bottomless.

He looks at you infinitely. It’s as startling as it is endearing.

Your brow relaxes when you give him a once-over and sense no lingering sorrow there, or any evidence that it even appeared to begin with. Maybe it’s just the heat getting to you.

“Well,” he smiles, teasing to a fault. “You ready, or… do you plan on chickenin’ out? I’ll let you if you admit defeat right now. Otherwise, don’t be a sore loser.”

You wave him off and level your eyes forward. “Psssh, sore loser….” Thrill beats in your ears with a rushing current of blood. You plant your hands to the gritty cobblestone and lean forward.

“The moment you agreed,” your little grin sparks back to life, “you lost, Gege.”

Oh, and he is just the rotten egg, isn’t he? The perverted dud and the lying, selfish asshole.

The wormy apple.

✷✷✷

There’s just some things in life you can never quite wipe from your memory.

Here’s one: The first time Caleb was called a sister-fucker.

He remembers that day and how condemning it felt. Like he’d been made the object of some irrevocable curse. It was unwarranted, it was: some stupid playground bullies were mouthing off after he rushed to your rescue for the umpteenth time, and the word flew like a witch would on a broom. Caleb was not prepared for that stab in his little heart.

That was in middle school, and he was angry. Ashamed, too. All sorts of clashing feelings, really. Those little brats said the f-word in front of you, his innocent little meimei, and to make matters worse, Caleb was not sure if the majority of his anger should lie with their accusation or his inability to determine whether it was grounded or not.

He was hardly fourteen, then, and you were twelve. He never laid his hands on you that way. No, never thought about it. He hardly had the capacity to, at that time.

At that time.

But that moment stayed with him,… and that dirty, dirty epithet was one that remained around the block until one day something peaked in him- that shame climbing to its point- and he beat it from their mouths.

It never did end up getting back around to you. For a number of reasons, Caleb is glad for that. Just to name a couple: It saved him from the flaming red ears, and the awkward chat the bird-and-the-bees topic surely would have been.

When it got around to Gran, though…

‘Caleb, dear, is there…’ The elderly woman, for all her experience in fostering children, was not exactly sure how to broach the subject- which was oddly risqué, and downright horrifying it if were to be true- with her young boy.

But she didn’t think it was true: sure, the two were exceptionally close, she trailed him like a lost puppy and he had some underlying impulse to anchor himself beside her at any given time, but they laughed and played and Caleb was always the archetype of a- sometimes cheeky, sometimes clingy- older brother.

Their behavior was considered very normal for their circumstances, she’d thought. They seemed inseparable upon the first meet. With their close bond came the occasional spat and meaningless argument, but that only served as more proof of their strictly sibling dynamic, too.

Gran thought about it for only a moment before finding her peace, and shortly after her words.

‘Why are those boys saying such things? What did you do to make them have it out for you?’ She was gentle but firm with him. Caleb was not afraid of her; just maybe the awful, creeping feeling in his gut that told him he was in the wrong after all.

‘N-Nothin’, Gran… They got upset because I wouldn’t let them pick on Meimei… Don’t worry though, I covered her ears so she wouldn’t hear them.’

But it’s not like he ever imagined actually laying his hands on you— L-Let alone fucking. Even as a boy, he had the sound-enough subconscious to shut away those fleeting, invasive thoughts and put some space between you two when he was feeling… extra confused.

Caleb’s twenty-one now, though. And you’re nineteen and things are different. Those tender, innocent feelings of love from your shared youths- the one-sided romance of your bond- has by now fully realized itself. It’s bled out into ruby-red fingers of desire like watercolor on a page, and they grasp Caleb tight. Refuse to let go. He’s not a boy anymore. And he’s not particularly kind anymore, either. His softness is a luxury that only you’re entitled to but every touch feels like a beatdown because of it.

Yeah he might be overbearing sometimes but you’re just as abrasive. You cut him in ways you could never know.

But Caleb’s not a sister-fucker. He’s not.

And he’s not all the shame associated with that title and the big fat cluster of intricate emotions like guilt, loneliness, and terrible, terrible longing… H-He’s not.

No— He hasn’t even fucked you yet.

✷✷✷

Two weeks. Caleb is allotted two weeks off from his responsibilities at the Aerospace Academy to spend the start of summer with you.

Late June marks your graduation and the beginning of an exciting break the both of you had been planning for months to share. Between a taxing schedule and study papers that pile up if he so much as thinks about holding off on them, Caleb is a bit pressed for free time. He’d been counting down the days until he arrived back in Linkon.

Now that it’s finally here- your mini summer ‘vacation’, as you’d called it- he won’t take any of it for granted.

He’s savored every little moment with you since childhood- no stranger to the sentimental. But as you emerge from your bedroom with a cute bikini with a white frilly skirt that hardly covers your ass, Caleb decides this memory needs to be given a little extra care.

You flutter past him and down the hall, sheepishly nodding for him to follow, and he realizes he’s been staring a little too long without saying anything. He plasters on a nonchalant grin and sticks his hands in the pockets of his swim trousers. “Okay, sis…” He compliments in his tone.

“You, uh… you ready to go now?” He asks, propping himself against the kitchen arch to watch you pour yourself some water. He reminds that there’s juice in the fridge and you quickly forego the tap. He chuckles at that.

You try to hide a shy smile from him, too much energy in your heels to not sway as you move around the kitchen. There’s a small ball of nerves in your belly and you can’t help but feel a bit naked in your two-piece. You bought it because you’d thought it was adorable, but truthfully you feel a bit out of place- under scrutiny, maybe- as you uncap the fruit juice.

“I’m ready,” you announce casually. “But did you see my bathing suit?”

“W-What about it? Yeah, it… looks nice.” He answers a bit breathlessly.

You look over your shoulder before picking up your glass and marching over. His gaze flutters when you do, like he’s bracing himself for something. In stature, he’s nothing like the round-faced kid you grew up with, standing over six feet tall with lean muscle to hug his broad frame, but right now, he looks almost boyish with anticipation.

On the way to him, you stuff down that inexplicable kernel of unease. You pretend your pulse isn’t fastening, too.

A quasi reaction of fight-or-flight stirs in your chest. For the life of you you don’t know why. Maybe you don’t wanna know.

You smile. Gege, solid arms folded over his muscled chest, regards you with a strange look. It disappears under a veneer of brotherly charm— gone like a feverish hot flash of something unreal.

You stop a few inches in front of him. “See?” You chirp, piking your shoulder up for him to observe. “The red polka dots are actually apples. Since you like them so much.”

After a pause- one that seems to stretch infinitely but is actually only brief- you watch Caleb’s cheeks turn to rubies. Heat flares at his ears.

He sets his jaw and lets out a small scoff, eyes flitting everywhere. “W-What are you sayin’, pipsqueak? You got it… just for me?”

“Ugh, no, Caleb!” You giggle with a hint of disbelief. “I just thought it was cute but wanted to show you.”

With an annoyed pout, you spin away from him and head for the island. On top of it, a cooler sits, its lid open. You nurse from your icy drink as you wedge a variety of cold beverages and the sandwiches he made at the bottom.

“Yeah, yeah,” he recollects himself and joins you at the counter, coming to your aid without prompting. “Well, I think it’s cute too. But don’tcha think it’s a little… showy? I’ll be sweating bullets the whole time we’re at the beach.”

You laugh under your breath, only half paying attention. Certainly not to the intense glint in his eye as he watches your profile, anyway. “Why? And you won’t be sweating if we’re in the water.”

“I don’t want any guys gettin’ the wrong idea,” he lilts, but there’s a notable tinge of seriousness there. “Thinkin’ my pipsqueak isn’t off limits.”

A soft pink warms your cheeks this time. “It’s fine, Caleb,” you murmur, dutifully ignoring his gaze- which you are now exceedingly aware of. “Everyone’ll be minding their own business- they’ll hardly be looking at me.”

Wryly, Caleb closes the cooler and raises his brow.

“Doubt it.”

He seems as if he has a lot more to say, but apparently holds off on it.

When you return home, it’s close to five and Gran has finished her errands. She sits in the living room on the lovechair, holding a cushion on her lap as she watches the news.

You hardly have time to greet her on the way down the hall: you bump shoulders and race with Caleb for the bathroom shower. Maybe he’s going a little easy on you (per usual), but you’re too tunneled in on reaching it in time to scold him for it.

“Ladies first!” You say with victory, grinning through the crack in the door as it groans with pressure, halfway open. Caleb crams his elbow in it to show he won’t give up so easily. You’re met with his bunched brow, his sun-dried, messy hair and a grudging smile he can’t quite fight off.

“Be a good gege and wait your turn!” You tell him.

The title weakens him. His hand falters and you manage to shut the door. The lock clicks softly.

“Alright, alright,” his voice sounds muted from the other side. His footsteps, retreating down the hallway after a belated few seconds, emit defeat.

Maybe some frustration, too.

Either that, or his feet have just gotten heavy.

“But if you use up all the hot water,” he warns, “I won’t let you help me with dinner. Just remember that. And let’s be real, I know you’re hungry.”

Well, he has you beat there. Maybe he knows you just as well as you do him.

It’s an endearing thought, actually; as the warm water pours, you slough away the sticky layer of sea salt and the sand glued to it with a smile. Once these two weeks are over, you’ll go right back to your normal life: your brother will return to the clouds and you’ll have to pretend, between a steady stream of pining texts and phonecalls meant to check in on you, that you don’t miss your gege. Even if sometimes, all you want is to leap back into time and hold his hand, cower behind his shoulder to escape the daunting fear of growing up.

You have responsibilities now. Dreams you’re meant to follow. You’ll train to be a hunter and then officially enroll into their program. Caleb will become a bonafide pilot within a couple months, achieving his lifelong dream, and might leave you in his proverbial contrails.

It’ll be just you and Gran, until you pack your boxes for an apartment downtown closer to your future workplace. Family will become a distant memory, a fading speck on the horizon or a phantom pain that tugs at your heart.

But… maybe that’s just what growing up means. Letting go of everything behind you. Caleb would certainly be able to relate with the sentiment that- other than each other and Gran- there was little to hold onto in the first place.

But… You’re not so sure about all of it. Maybe you’ll have to ask your gege for advice around the dinner table. You have no clue what will happen a month or year down the line, and to be perfectly honest that terrifies you, but for now—

You’ll make the most of this break with him and Gran all together.

✷✷✷

Half of it flies by in a blur.

Movie nights with buttery popcorn and long strolls by Bloomshore turn into fuzzy lines as soon as you look back at them. Once-quiet suppers with just you and Gran are revived with the cheerful presence of your brother, and the cabinets are filled with new snacks the two of you buy on impulse to test out.

You chase him around your cozy, childhood home demanding he deletes those awful pics of you- and the woman who took you both in as children calls from the couch for him to stop terrorizing you already.

He always swears it’s in good fun, but submits to your whining. Not without a flick to your forehead, though. It never hurts, but you make sure to stick your tongue in his face.

Evenings are spent on the floor by the coffee table.

Caleb busts out an old, wooden box from the closet and speaks in a wistful tone as you pass nostalgic photos and yellowed notes between each other. You’re about to poke at him for being so sentimental, but you spot a little mist in his eyes, so you refrain.

There’s six days left, tonight.

Neither of you remind the other of this ticking clock of sorts, but sometimes it will get quiet after a bout of laughter and you think you can feel it in the blanketing tension— the wordless countdown to zero.

X amount of days until I leave for Skyhaven. And, X amount of days until Caleb leaves us again.

You can hear it snicking like a stopwatch- and not the one Caleb wears.

A fan on the floor cools the balmy evening, but just a little.

You lie on your belly- utterly stuffed from another delicious meal- on his bed while he assembles a model. It’s some aircraft that you can’t hope to remember the name of, but he’s always gravitated towards that kind of thing, in more ways than one.

You kick your feet and moan with boredom when his eyes take on a very concentrated look and he hunches over the figure in his hands. He pokes his tongue out the corner of his mouth, he’s so engrossed.

Many minutes seem to pass. “Are you almost done, Caleb? We were ‘sposed to watch a movie tonight.”

Without glancing up, he chuckles lightly. “Be patient, pipsqueak. You know, it’ll go faster if you help me out here,” he suggests, nodding towards a few wayward pieces on the edge of the mattress. He scoops them up before they call fall off.

”Or are ya just gonna watch me do all the work?” He looks up to you and smiles. It’s soft. Smitten, almost.

You huff. “Fine. Okay, I’ll help.”

“Knew ya wouldn’t leave me hangin’.”

Seemingly pleased, his purple eyes stare for a moment longer before lowering. They remind you of the nebula sometimes: all bottomless and resplendent, and sometimes they get a little starry if you catch them for too long.

You’ve seen them darken like black holes before, though; some deep chasm taking over whenever his protectiveness flares up or he asks you, with his hand held tightly in yours, who made you cry. Then, he’s a force to be reckoned with, devoid of warmth and sharp-edged.

“Caleb, can I… ask you something?”

Caleb glances up immediately. Noting the sobriety of your expression and the lack of playfulness in your tone, he gives a quick nod. He lowers the half-constructed model- the one his hands absolutely dwarf- as if it’s no longer important.

“Of course,” he says. He gives his head a little reassuring tilt. “If there’s anything you’re curious about, you can tell me.”

You let out a small sigh. “Will you visit again? Visit more, I mean?”

He blinks and appears contemplative for a few seconds. Yet, you get the strange feeling that it’s less him trying to formulate an answer and more like he’s trying to figure out just what prompted your asking in the first place.

“Sure, whenever I get time,” he answers with a simple shrug. “You know I wish I could be here all the time, sis… For you and Gran,” but mostly you, he doesn’t clarify, “but the Academy is no joke. I need to work hard if I want to get in.”

His endless scores of A’s and A-pluses reflect his convictions. It’s really only one subject he can’t find it in him to master: Those damned, annoying mental wellness checks. (He thinks that all those less than reputable scores— they don’t reflect him, they reflect you.)

He smiles. “Then, I’ll be able to really support us.”

“Yeah…” You sigh softly after a beat. “But, like… what if you stop visiting? You’ll find a girlfriend and then never come to see me and Gran again,” you mask your very real concerns with a weak laugh.

Caleb’s brow gives a little twitch.

His expression falls, then, like swirling grey clouds that nudge aside white fluffy ones. Something in your chest seizing, you understand it’s disgust that rewrites his pleasant visage.

You just… don’t know why.

“Why would I get a girlfriend?”

You stare on with confusion. For a moment, you feel stunned because you’ve never seen him make that face before.

It takes an extra second or two to lasso in your rationale and laugh. “Well, you’re like twenty-something now. Isn’t that just what happens? You’ll find a girlfriend and I guess I’ll find a boyfriend. I mean, I bet Gran will be happy too if one of us brings home some babies—“

A derisive scoff cuts you off. “Babies?” He throws back, peering up at you through long lashes. He takes on the perfect Kubrick stare.

The scathing sound of his voice and the shadowy look in his eyes is more than enough to zip your lips. “Don’t you think we’re a little too young for that? Besides, we don’t have to do anything right now… If we want to stay single, that’s perfectly fine.”

A few moments of uninterrupted silence pass and leave you with no choice but to reflect on your actions. You inwardly ask yourself if you did something wrong. It certainly feels that way.

You give your throat an inaudible clear. “I was just teasing, Caleb, geez,” you brush off his intense stare by looking down.

The aircraft model looks big and unbreakable in your grasp, a far cry from how it appears when held in his. You distract yourself from the startled beating of your heart by rotating it in your hand.

“Y-You can dish it out, but you can’t take it?”

You don’t meet his eye when saying that, not when he’s regarding you like you’re little more than prey or tomorrow’s dinner. No, you don’t dare to.

Gege is reliable by nature. But you suppose he can exhibit his fair amount of ‘intimidating’ when need be.

You feel an unseen weight lift off your shoulders (when they became cowed, you don’t know) when Caleb heaves a sigh.

He’s apologetic, “Sorry, sis. You’re right. Talking about it just… freaks me out a little. I mean, I barely have the time to even think about it, let alone prepare.” He pauses for a moment, as if waiting for your input.

When you look back up at him, it’s as if nothing ever happened. As if he never changed.

His eyes beam like indigo gems, sunny and unaffected. He leans forward to pat your head and it takes a strangely high amount of effort to not flinch under the weight of his palm.

If he notices, his mild expression doesn’t betray any signs.

“Why, what’s up?” He quirks a playful brow. “You’re not… Seeing someone, are you?” Caleb questions with a light laugh, hands moving to fold over the plastic plane in his hands, though his gaze remains level on you. Glued there like he physically cannot take it off until you provide him with an answer.

“Did my pipsqueak fall in love with some boy while I was gone?”

A harsh gust of wind escapes you at that. A laugh, you realize, or what’s supposed to be a laugh. You resume inserting pieces into place, adamant on building the miniature aircraft.

Your cheeks feel toasty. He’s managed to make you feel startled, ashamed, and bashful all within the span of a minute or two. It’s as impressive as it is whiplash-inducing.

Your gege is watching you very carefully as you lower your chin and purse your lips. “No…” you say sheepishly. “If I did, I’d be spending the summer with him instead of you,” you tease.

That proclamation rings loud in Caleb’s ears like a gunshot bang.

She’ll spread her wings, and fly away.

He should be joyous that there is still an absence of that ‘special someone’ in your life, that he indeed is the one spending the prelude to summer with you.

But all he feels is a lump of dread forming in his belly.

It fattens and makes it hard to breathe. She’ll spread her wings and fly away. Leave you in her dust and all the memories. All the love.

”Yeah? Well, consider me lucky then.”

Something in his chest plummets. Too rapid to catch it. Too monstrous to hope to.

He lets it sink. Feels himself going with it. It’s getting so hard to hold out, Meimei. But don’t look at him with those eyes of wide startle. It’s still the Caleb you loved from your childhood, your beloved Gege.

Just with a whole lotta love that you couldn’t even begin to fucking fathom.

…Six days. Six days left.

He’s been granted a final, measly six days to change your mind and convince you that he’s still got a place in your life, in your heart. That it’s reserved only for him.

An uncanny smile warps Caleb’s lips.

“I’ll always visit,” he assures. “And don’t worry, sis… Once I get a girlfriend, you’ll definitely be the first one to know, okay?” He chuckles, a pleasant sound.

A pretty smile smooths out the remnant lines of uncertainty in your face. “Okay. And… I can visit you in Skyhaven, too?”

Delirious excitement blips across purple eyes, his grin too bright.

“Sure,” he cheerfully agrees. “Even better.”

✷✷✷

White dots his vision like a light leak seconds before you barge in.

That tight knot, the one that had been wrapping his stomach in threads of want and frustration and need, begins to unfurl at full pelt, and Caleb quivers as it happens.

Those academy girls could never quite compete with his pumping fist or the swirling thoughts in his head he gets himself off to. But he supposes they served their purposes where they could— in those moments of foolish thinking where he thought they could heal him and needed to at least make an attempt. To clear his conscious, if nothing else.

(Spoiler alert, a humored voice in his head says dryly. They didn’t. And of course they didn’t. They were never his precious little Meimei. That’s no one’s fault but his own for believing he could get ‘better.’

No. ‘Better’ is you. It always has been.)

He’s learned from all that, though. Played all those games- and people- ‘til they tuckered him out.

Relief bowls through him. That’s just what he needs, isn’t it? A little help. He’s never considered these short-lived sessions of fucking his fist a way to summon pleasure, no- although that is very much present when he does- but rather as a kind of damage control.

He’s too pent up and needy. He needs to take the edge off, somehow, lest some of that frustration teems over when he’s talking to you and he messes up. Messes up in a way he can’t fix.

After all, he’s entitled to his own self-soothing mechanisms, isn’t he?

Or… what, is he just meant to deny himself of that, too?

Caleb bites down on a deep moan and shakes.

Pleasure courses through his veins and builds to a high peak, certainly not one he can hope to climb down from in the short time it takes you to run down the hall and into his bedroom.

“Caleb, guess what—“

And, you know, it’s already embarrassing as is, being interrupted in a personal moment and caught in such a compromising position, but what makes it worser is when it’s your own little sister who walks in to find you with your cock in your hand.

What makes it… mortifying?

When she hears you saying her name during it.

When she gasps, her eyes losing their initial glitter as they flit down, his cock gives a shameless throb and Caleb can’t decipher if the lurch in his belly is from disgust or newfound arousal.

Either way, he realizes his nakedness and scrambles to fold the sheets over it.

(Bit too late for that though, huh?)

With labored breaths, he makes a sound akin to a whimper, voice thin and pained, and lets his jaw hang dumbly.

You seem to cotton on to reality once more, because you finally take a step back- a shaky, belated one- and begin to retreat into the sunlit hallway.

Evening casts a cherry-orange glow on the white walls that flickers when you backstep into one of the beams filtering from the window. It makes you look fiery and almost hellish. But he’s a sinner. A sinner by nature and so you’re inviting.

(And he came to terms with his sin nature long ago. Sometimes it just feels like he’s waiting on you.)

His love— so deep and fervent, spread in the pit of his being like apple seeds, tearing him apart from the core— brings endless guilt, maybe, but not regret. No, nothing is regrettable about you. And he’s sorry, he’s so fucking sorry, Meimei, that he’s a monstrous liar and he desperately wishes it wasn’t like this, that you could see him separate from a brother, but—

He can’t stop. He can’t stop.

And there’s a certain instant… where he’s had to pause and really look at himself and ask if he truly wants to.

What he feels for you is suffocating. Like an eldritch river beast snatching his ankle and dragging him down hopeless, louring depths. But he pictures your face in perfect peace and wears your locket close to his heart. He loves you endlessly. Would do it all for you.

Just… Maybe pretending he doesn’t feel what he feels for you isn’t apart of that equation.

He senses your departure with a stab of inexplicable panic. “Meimei,” he quickly stammers, reaching out with his free hand.

His other hand, the one with wet, dripping knuckles, sticky with his own seed, darts to hide behind him, placing a proverbial cloth over his sin.

He has half the brain that already wants to mitigate this situation as it plays out in front of him in real-time, and he’s all but praying a ‘clean-up’ of sorts is viable here...

The scale doesn’t quite seem to be tipping in his favor though and honest to God, he’s not surprised. He deserves it if anything, for being such a selfish, awful big brother. Oh, doesn’t he know.

You look horrified, and you are. It feels as if you’ve been splashed with cold water. Your chest warms like a hearth and tightens, but your limbs frost over. Icy-hot shock keeps you moored in the threshold of his bedroom door with wide, fluttering eyes.

“Wait, don’t go, i-it’s not—“

A feeble lie. Wholly unconvincing.

You’re naive to a fault, that’s been true since you were kids, and too kindhearted for your own good, but this is not a matter wherein you can feign ignorance... It’s not one where you’re running into his arms, either.

No, you look… afraid as you back away from him. Like his arms come dead last on the list of places you want to be.

Paired with the mute horror is abashment. A vivid pink glazes your cheekbones and Caleb, guiltily, thinks you look very pretty (albeit, he can’t remember there ever being a time where he didn’t think that).

You recollect just enough of your composure to pick up your jelly legs and maneuver them out.

The door clicks shut and the sound is too soft to warrant the tempest gusting through his chest. His heart thrums at racehorse speeds.

He said your name, Meimei (or more accurately, moaned it), and you heard it. He came, and you saw that, too- fountaining over the backs of his fingers like white water rapids. You… saw it all. Saw him.

A niggling feeling stirs inside him. Filthy and blinding but brief. It passes like a car in the night, there and then gone.

A voice purrs to life in the back of his head, one of greed and frustration. One of miserable longing. He listens to it for a moment, and it brings him catharsis.

The loneliness constantly enveloping him like fog at a mountain’s foot seems to thin out, but just a little... It allows some wiggle room for a warped sense of accomplishment to settle.

Because you saw him.

(And isn’t that all he ever wanted?)

Slowly, Caleb licks his dry lips and hazily notes the twitch of his cock against his wet abdomen. It’s flushed an angry red as it crawls back to life, but Caleb tucks it under the waistband of his boxers and contemplates his next move.

You’ll be in disarray, in shock, in a boiling pot of disgust and the likely, self-sabotaging questions of, is this somehow my fault? Maybe he’ll even capitalize off them— screwed-up, pathetic gege he is.

But you saw him and there’s just no denying it and now there’s no hiding place for him either. Not anymore.

This truth… you can both navigate it together.

There’s a pulsating mix of terror, guilt, and scorching excitement that takes the breath from his lungs as he lies back down. Relief moves in a thin undercurrent in his blood, reassuring him that it’ll be okay. Somehow, it will.

Little devils perch on either of Caleb’s shoulders. He feels a very odd sense of calm wash over him. You saw it. So…

Do you accept it?

He thinks you might just have to. For your gege’s sake, if nothing else. Because Meimei, this has been killing him for far too long.

Relieve him, why don’t you?

✷✷✷

His vacation of sorts is coming to a close.

Caleb blinks, and a few days scurry underfoot like mice— too quick to stop or comprehend. He steps on the tail ends of them, but they escape anyway.

You’ve been avoiding him.

Stowing yourself away in your bedroom and locking the door just in case he tries to come in; you don’t exactly expect him to come barging in like you did, especially not after what you’d seen, but you’d rather be safe than sorry.

You’re not afraid of your gege, you’re not. You never have been. But these past few days have felt nothing short of hellish.

You tell Gran you’re not feeling well when she asks why you’ve been skipping family dinners. She leaves a water bottle by the door with a tiny orange pill on top and believes you.

Sure, you told your tall tale or two growing up, and Caleb always had your back when you needed to cover up a small wrongdoing, but this is… different. To pretend that nothing is happening right now- or that it’s all fine- would be more than just a white lie.

Something is wrong with your Gege. Terribly.

You… don’t know what to do.

You love him. And you hate him, hate him in a way you never could when he used to steal your snacks as a child or conveniently forget to unlock the attic hatch.

These battling feelings only serve to complicate the situation further; your stomach is a war-ground of guilt, sorrow, and a disgust that viciously razes your wellbeing to the dirt.

How could you do this, Caleb? You think to yourself, curled up on your side, nuzzling into a heap of pillows. You’re under the illusion that this was an overnight thing. That he up and decided just a couple days ago to do the unthinkable- the reprehensible- and vocalize your name in the act. You don’t why he did it. What he was thinking. But whatever the reason could be, perhaps you don’t want to know.

Your own Gege….

Anger beats in your chest. Fear, too- making your belly toss with sickness. Now the future is more blurry than ever, and the one person you always leaned on for counsel has all but spat in your face. That’s what it feels like, at least. Like betrayal.

Hours drag by and you fall victim to endless swarms of butterflies, but not the good kind. The anxious kind. They fly in droves and absolutely piece you apart.

Guilt lances at your heart as you curse him in your head, and you hate that despite it all, you still feel the undercurrents of love for him.

For the entirety of your childhood, he was your shield. Your best friend, your protector, and the one person in the whole entire world you could always count on- perhaps more than Gran- to be there for you. Your teasing but well-meaning older brother. Now, you realize just how strong that sentiment is, because it stubbornly remains. Even now as you clench your teeth and hold back tears.

It’s buried under layers of hurt, though. A feeling of betrayal that pierces bone-deep and spreads all over.

He’s sick. Depraved. A voice in a dark cranny of your brain whispers, bitter and scared. But these new, scathing adjectives you assign your gege are just as surprising as they are uncertain, because no matter how many times you mentally call him a sick monster, your heart sings a weak song against it.

No. No, he’s not a monster. He’s your Gege.

Maybe you can fix this, somehow.

Maybe… Maybe it was a misunderstanding after all! Some rotten delusion you experienced fueled by the summer heat and the humid haze of late June. Even if it wasn’t- maybe you’d just be content to pretend it was. You’ll seal your little pinky with his and he’ll make a vow to never bring it up again; you’ll accept a lie, even, if he says it never happened to begin with.

You’ll do it. You’ll pretend. The two of you will go back to normal and he’ll leave for Skyhaven and you’ll eventually send in your final admission to the Hunter’s Association. You’ll be accepted in and you’ll forget him. Forget him until he pays his one or two occasional visits during the holidays. By that time, though, you’ll already have gotten your new place and it’ll serve as an excuse to never have to fucking see him again—

You don’t want to see him again.

A little sob escapes you.

You feel sick to your stomach. Nausea churns in your gut like milkfat in a butterbell. You shut your eyes desperately to bat away a flurry of intrusive, bitter thoughts, but it hardly works.

How could he do this to the both of you—?

Could you confide in Gran about this? If you told her, would she find help for Caleb or spank him like old times-? or would she start looking at you with cold, repulsed eyes as if it was your fault?

Is… Is it your fault?

A sequence of knocks sounds at the door.

For how gentle they are, you really shouldn’t flinch so hard.

Your breath hitches. Your fingers curl around your blankets and tighten.

“Y/n,” the voice on the other side of the door is honeyed and low. You note the sadness in it and immediately wish you didn’t as a throbbing sweeps through your chest. “It’s…. It’s me. It’s Caleb,” he sighs out. “W-Will you… let me in?”

Your response is quick. “No,” you say dully, feigning meanness. “I don’t feel well.”

“What’s hurting?” He seamlessly chirps in a light voice, concerned. You’re just thankful he hasn’t tried for the knob yet, despite knowing you’d locked it anyway. “You still have your meds out here… I guess Gran left them for you, huh? Do you want me to bring them to you—“

“Just- go away, Caleb,” you manage to say his name, but it’s in a gritted, forced breath. Something in your heart does a 180 degree twist as the title leaves your mouth. A salty tear rolls in and wets your tongue.

You take a shaky breath in and try to mask your sorrow. That’s near impossible.

“L-Leave me alone.”

A pause.

For a second, you’re almost dumb enough to believe he’s turned around and left.

A palm, large and worried, presses to your bedroom door. “Are you crying? Meimei- let me in, please,” comes his fretting voice. “I need to see you.”

Meimei. The title, once wrapped with affection and warmth, sends a cold chill down your spine. You ought to open that door just to give him a black eye and a wake-up slap to reality. He needs that— and desperately.

A wave of anger, frothy and hot, rides over that feeling of disgust- but just for a moment.

You sit up in bed and sneer at the locked door, “I need you to leave. Go, Caleb! I don’t wanna see you anymore, don’t you get it?!”

It’s a strange thing, how you’re currently blind to his expression but you can clearly imagine it regardless: anguish bunching his brow as his whole face falls. You’ve seen that face before, and now you’re seeing it in your head. It’s paired with a very real, pained sound he makes.

You hate the guilt that hits you, barreling through you at the sound of his strained voice. Growing up, there was always a reason why he called you a cry baby, why Gran told you to guard your heart. Because it’s fucking weak. Prone to your gege.

He leans his full weight against the door. Fists planted there as he hangs his head.

“Don’t say that!” he forces out. “You don’t mean it. Let me come in. I’ll explain to you what happened— a-anything you wanna know. Just…” He pauses for a moment, exasperated.

“I only have three days left to see you. Don’t leave me like this.”

Three days…

You force your eyelids shut. Your nostrils flare.

“Please,” he says, and drives the final nail in the coffin home. Your, coffin.

You’re about to get up from your bed, plastering on a cool face as you prepare to untwist your limbs from your blankets. You drag one leg up from your sheets before a mental image- one you never want to acknowledge as real- stops you in place.

(Meimei, he moans. Meimei meimei meimei, nmmph—)

You stoop your head and cry harder.

“Dammit, sis,” his voice warbles opposite the door. “Let me in, you’re not okay- don’t cry, don’t cry,” he hushes, but you cut off his tender, admittedly effective tries at consolation with a sharp shout.

“Tell me,” you grit. “Tell me you didn’t mean it! That all of it was just some- some- I don’t know! Just tell me it won’t happen again,” you whimper, “That it never did.”

“Please, Gege.”

His reply comes quick. After a loud, shuddering breath that rattles the last of your wellbeing and oozes confidence.

“No,” he says lowly, assured. “It did. It did happen, sis. It’s been happening. You just… didn’t know.”

Revulsion lands a punch to your gut. Direct and vomit-inducing.

“N-No—“

“I’m sorry,” he interjects sadly. A very deep convinction bleeds into his words a second later, though, strengthening them. “I never meant to hurt you. But I don’t regret the way I feel. I love you, Y/n. I love you more than you could ever know. So… let me in. C’mon- Let your Gege see you just one more time, or will you send me back to Skyhaven without so much as a goodbye?”

Furious, you shout for as loud as your frightened throat will allow.

“NO! Leave, Caleb! I don’t wanna see—“

The door makes a sound. It echoes around the four walls of your cozy bedroom and you watch in mute horror as the knob, with the tiny slat lock and all, begins to turn.

Without using his hands, Caleb pushes the door open with his Evol.

He takes a proper moment before stepping in- almost as if preparing himself- something flashing across his face before withering away. You think it takes some piece of him with it.

But when he does take that first stride in, you get the cold, unshakable feeling that he is no longer your Gege, not anymore.

Some monster in him has been fully realized: it’s sloughed its skin- the sweet, doting face of your older brother- like a snake and embraced its scales. It can only crawl on its belly and it only crawls towards you.

(And now, all there’s left to do is place that apple in your hand—)

“It’s gonna be okay, sis. I’m right here. Gran doesn’t have to know. And if she finds out- it doesn’t matter. I’ll take you someplace else. Fly you far away, if I had to—“

“C-Caleb, stop,” as he nears your bedside, you demand your legs to move but they won’t- anchored in place like bags of sand. Tears path down your cheeks and put a chink in his armor; his brooding face faltering.

You know, just between the two of you, growing up, he was always a bit soft, too.

“It’ll be just the two of us and no one’ll lay a hand on you, I pinky promise. I’ll be a pilot within a month and get you anything you could ever dream of,” his quivering lips curl into a smile- a genuine, manic one- as he takes your smaller hand in his own and kisses the back of it.

You try to tug it away to no avail. You suppose he was right, a handful of days ago, saying his muscles weren’t just for decoration. If he wants to overpower you, he can, and that’s a terrifying thought you don’t want to believe in but it’s looking like you might have to grow out of this blind trust you always held for him. It’s looking like there’s no better time to start that than now.

Your lungs heave, “Caleb, what are you—?”

“Remember, when we were younger? you’d called me selfish once or twice,” he chuckles, a light sound. “And you were right, Meimei. I am selfish. But you should take a page from my book sometime, too. I’ll let you, ya know. Just say the word, and—“

Panic taking control of you, you regain feeling in your bones and launch a foot at him.

It’s seized, instantly. Suspended in midair— floating unnaturally without so much as a touch or grab. He’s holding it up, keeping you pinned beneath him, with his gravity manipulation skill and you realize with another sob that you cannot escape your Gege, not in heart and not in body, not ever.

His eyes trail to yours after a thick moment, indigo irises dancing with darkness, impatience, and the smallest beat of hurt. As if this pains him more than you.

What an asshole. A lying, selfish— manipulative asshole.

The sweet, kindhearted boy Gran raised to be your brother—

“Are you… tryin’ to hit me?” he laughs, lifting a deceptively flippant brow. “Hm, that’s alright. I can tell what you’re thinking, Meimei, that you don’t recognize me at all right now, right..?”

His fingers, long and slim, do close around your floating leg, then. They draw your calf to his face and he peppers a chaste kiss to it. It lingers and makes you feel sick— butterflies erupting in your stomach at the way he looks up at you, lashes framing a reverent look that borders on delusional.

Mortification settles when you realize they’re not just the anxious kind, those butterflies: Your body seems to be just as traitorous as the brunette hunched over you.

“But it’s me, Caleb. Your own gege,” you wonder if it’s a scoff, the little breath he looses, or something else, but he appears almost disappointed with himself for a fraction of a second—

Gone.

“So let me take care of you. If you don’t let me now… you’ll just be delaying the inevitable. Might as well just… rip the bandaid off, right? It’ll be okay, just have a little faith in me. I- I can’t keep pretending anymore. But it doesn’t have to end with you crying,” he reasons with furrowed brows, hands descending to pin yours to the bed and entwine your fingers with his. He hovers over you and nuzzles his nose into the crook of your neck, sighing with deep content. It’s a mockery of a lovers’ embrace.

But to Caleb, it’s the real thing.

“I want us to be happy. Just let go, Meimei. Let go and let me take care of you. I… always have, haven’t I?” He murmurs, lips planting a kiss- the first of many- to the thumping column of your throat.

(—All there’s left to do is place that apple in your hand, and watch you take the bite.)

[jeontasy]

Endless Summer

pt.1

word count: no idea, i wrote this feverishly on my phone at 2am pls

♡ : a little Caleb write so i can fulfill my own lil fantasies

setting: summer vacation + grandma isnt home + caleb realizes youve grown up + making out + some touches

perspective: caleb x afab reader

enjoy :)

edit: this was meant to be just a quick write of inspiration from the newest Caleb trailer cause he was giving hella forbidden love x Gege vibes but I will be now adding a part 2 which will be basically smut :}

Part 2 (m)

gif credit: kiiseru 

The night Summer breeze whistles through the trees outside the window, there’s a dim white light shinning from inside the kitchen where Caleb was grabbing a popsicle from the freezer. He hums a tune as he rips the wrapper open and puts it in his mouth.

“Caleb! Did you use up my facewash again?!” You yelled from the upstairs bathroom when you realize your facewash was nearing the bottom; again. This was your first week back for Summer vacation and you’re already regretting not bringing skincare back from the dorm. Gentle footsteps clicked down the halls and you see Caleb leaning against the bathroom door flashing a sly grin at you before taking his popsicle out his mouth. “So what if I did? You always have the best stuff anyway.” He laughs heartily when you groan and try to pinch his face but he’s able to duck from every launched attack.

This guy!!, you thought to yourself. You let out an annoying sigh before wrapping your freshly washed hair in a towel and closing the bathroom lights. The bathrobe clung onto your wet body uncomfortably as you walk back into your room to dry up and get dressed. Caleb lets out a laugh at your annoyed expression and taps the top of your head, “How about I make you a sundae and we can watch that drama you’ve been wanting to finish? Hmm?” He tilts his head and flashes a gentle smile, hoping to make it up to you. You pout and look away, not wanting to fall for his tricks everytime he does something annoying but those shiny lavender eyes were impossible to deny.

“Fine.” You mumbled under your breath before slapping his hand away, “I want strawberry flavor and a looooot of whipped cream!” Caleb raises a brow and laughs at your request, “Anything you want, princess.” He turns around ready to go downstairs, “I’ll wait for you in the living room.”

You watch as his shadow slowly disappear into the darkness, you can hear him taking things out from the fridge and preparing to make the sundae. “I’m making him buy me a new facewash tomorrow..” You mutter to yourself before changing out of the bathrobe.

Caleb tops the sundae off with a bunch of whipped cream and strawberry slices as a finishing before smiling to himself proudly. She’ll love this, he thought. “She must hate the food over at the university.” Caleb chuckles while thinking about it.

He hears footsteps coming down the stairs and he turns around with a smile, eyes widening when he sees what you’re wearing.

The air is penetrated by the smell of your soft peach lotion and you were wearing one of his old oversized tshirts that he couldn’t fit in anymore. Caleb’s ears flushed hotly when he realizes you weren’t wearing anything underneath. The ends of the white tshirt flapped slightly with the wind as you walked and he gulps at the way it grazed against your thighs. He looks away with a blush as you walked down the stairs, careful to not catch a glimpse of what’s underneath that loose shirt. You fanned yourself as you strolled into the kitchen, regretting not turning the A.C on. “Is my sundae ready?” You taunt him teasingly, “Y-yeah, here.” Caleb picks up and shoves the bowl into your hands before coughing and walking away to the living room.

What’s with him?, You raised your brows before grabbing a spoon, walking to the living room as well to get ready for your show. You plop down on the couch and cross your legs, watching as Caleb frantically navigate the TV. You laughed at the sight and leaned in close to him, your voice laced with tease, “What? Our big pilot doesn’t know how to use a remote anymore?” Caleb turns and glares at you playfully, his skin turning hot. “S-shut up. Eat your ice cream.” You hummed and leaned in closer to him, resting your back against his bare arms and trying to get more comfortable in your position. Caleb freezes and tries to not look at your way, knowing he won’t be able to control himself if he sees your naked thighs.

“I wonder if the male and female lead kissed yet, all they do is fight Wanderers together.” You complained about the show, looking up at Caleb trying to see what his response is. “What do you think?” You scooped up some ice cream and put it in your mouth, the sweet strawberry taste melts inside and shakes a cold feeling down your throat. “Hmmm, that’s so good..” You let out a satisfying sigh and scoops up a bite for Caleb, sitting yourself up before trying to feed it to him. “Wanna have some too?”

Caleb turns and stares at you and the melting ice cream, the TV was the only thing keeping the living room lit up and he can smell the strawberry flavor on your breath. He clears his throat and leans in to take the bite you were offering, face close to yours and staring into your eyes, you gulp a little bit.

“W-what?”

Before you can say anything else, Caleb drops the remote and you feel the cold ice cream bowl float away from your grasp and land on the glass coffee table. You let out a gasp when you’re suddenly pushed back onto the couch without warning, Caleb’s hot breath coming down onto your ears as he traps you down. You can feel his beating heart through his tank top and the touch of his searing skin. The room was completely silent, with just the cicadas chirping outside the patio.

“It’s not fair.” He whispered.

“H-huh? What’d you say?” You try to wiggle out of his grasp but he just leans down on you heavier, he inhales in your scent and lets out a long sigh. His deep voice trembled through your body as he breathed right next to your ear, that musky scent drifting into your nose and captivating you. You feel one of his hand snake around your waist and lifting your body up into his, while his other hand cups the nape of your sweaty neck. “Caleb, what’s wrong?” You whispered, trying to rub his back in comfort. “Did something happen in Skyhaven?” you asked him with concern.

She smells so good..why does she smell so good? Caleb was lost in his own thoughts and lets out a low growl before lifting his face and looks down at you. He can’t help but realize how much you’ve grown ever since you left for college. The way your wet hair clung onto your neck and how his tshirt was slowly drooping down your bare shoulder.

“Nothing’s wrong. I just wanted to do this.”

He leans down and gently plants a hot kiss on your neck. The sudden impact sends a jolt down your spine and you let out a low whimper.

“C-Caleb, what are you-“

He holds your nape and suddenly pulls you in for a deep kiss. Your eyes widen as your lips touched his, you can feel his hot skin steaming against your own as his hair sweeps over his hooded needy eyes. He pulls back for a split second, “Don’t say anything.” he breathes out before pulling you in for another kiss.

You let out a quiet moan as he kissed you deeply, pulling you in so close that it doesn’t give you a chance to protest. It’s as if he was in a desert without water and you were the only bottle left. You hear Caleb whimper into your mouth as you shift your legs up underneath him, which makes his body flinch a little. He pulls back and a wet trail entangles between both of your mouths. "When did you suddenly grow up? Hmm?" He whispers softly, your mind was going blank from his touch. Unable to answer coherently, you let out another pleasured gasp when he growls in the depths of your neck. You feel his hand slowly move from your waist and down the sides of your hip.

"Caleb, w-wait..Grandma is-"

"She's not home." Caleb inhales deeply before moving his attention back to your lips, hungrily nipping at your soft skin and letting his hand move down further.

-♡-

To Be Continued in Part 2...

-♡-

disclaimer: Part 2 is definitely rated m HEAVY so please do not read if you're a minor!!! ;u; thank you!

[monster-effer]

Rafayel the Jealous Fishie - Rafayel x reader

Summary: You have been hanging out a lot with other people lately and Rafayel feels more jealous (and petty) than he’d like to admit. How will the two of y’all resolve this? Content: MDNI, smut, Rafayel and the reader are dating, Sylus, Xavier, Zayne and Caleb mention, jealousy, a smidgen of angst, hurt/comfort, switch!Rafayel, orgasm denial, edging, oral - m receiving, pet names: my love, baby, cutie, Raf (3.3k wc) A/N: This idea came to me as I was salivating over how good Rafayel looks with the new wolf cut hairstyle. He was my first bias in LADS, so I tried my best to depict him in this because he is such a complex character. I hope y’all enjoy!

Although you two text, call and video chat regularly, Rafayel has noticed that you haven’t spent much in person time together lately. He is aware that your career as a hunter keeps you busy most days and you have an active social life. But he still yearns to have you, his partner, girlfriend, muse, by his side.

He’s would never admit this out loud but knowing you spend so much time with handsome men makes him feel woefully self-conscious.

This all started a few weeks ago…

Caleb

You have spoken at length with him about how the loss of Caleb and your grandmother affected you. He’s witnessed the sleepless nights you’ve had due to your research into who was behind that tragic “accident” and the nightmares that stemmed from it. Rafayel has held you close to his chest as sobs wracked your body while you clutched Caleb’s necklace in your hands.

Since Caleb has returned from the dead, he’s been a popular conversation topic between you. Which Rafayel begrudgingly understands. You have been reunited with your gege, and you have some catching up to do with one another.

You’ve sent him countless breathtaking selfies of yourself in an aircraft that’s mid-flight. And Rafayel has used your selfies to create a few paintings that capture the hues displayed in the sky and oceans featured in the background of them. He tries not to ruminate over wishing he was the cause of your radiant smiles in said pictures.

Xavier

Xavier’s presence in your life isn’t anything new. But you two have grown closer after the undercover mission where you both posed as college students. When you and Rafayel text on weekday nights and he asks what you’re up to, you often answer that you’re out eating with Xavier, training with Xavier, or compiling reports…with Xavier.

He was getting sick of that name being a common term in your text threads. And he’s had to stop himself from throwing a fit because he knows Xavier is just a coworker of yours. So, he fights to push aside his feelings of dis-ease.

Zayne

Rafayel would describe your bond with Zayne as occasionally strained because you don’t take your health seriously at times, but it is also strong.

He questioned, never out loud, why you were going on trips to the arctics and spending so much time with your healthcare provider outside of Akso hospital. But surely this must be breaking some type of medical code of ethics??

When Rafayel first saw the snowman Zayne made for you, the prickly tendrils of jealousy gripped his heart. But watching your face light up as you recall how a cat at the café rejected the doctor’s offer of friendship and the dangers you faced together during your work trip, his insecurities slipped out of his mind once again.

Sylus

Sylus…was the tipping point.

Of course he knows of the Onychinus leader who resides in the N109 Zone. As a wanted criminal himself, Rafayel uses his network of contacts to keep him well informed of anyone who may pose as a threat.

When you were trying to get your hands on the aether core and called him for help, he felt compelled to help you. He wanted to keep you as informed and safe as possible. And to do so, he offered the idea of you acting as bait when you met at the Nest. And this was your ticket into the N109 Zone.

When you finally got back in contact with him after getting back to Linkon, Rafayel almost wept with relief.

During that phone call, you described what you went through and who you met in that lawless land. Rafayel felt his breath catch in his throat because he knows how dangerous and ruthless Sylus can be. It initially worried him how uncharacteristically kind he was to you during your time there. And he feels sick to his stomach when you begin to spend more time with that red eyed devil.

Rafayel hesitates to call himself jealous. Because on the surface, he and Sylus are opposite sides of the same coin. They are both well off, have unending connections within their network at their fingertips, and they won’t hesitate to spoil you at any given moment.

Rafayel has salivated over the form fitting dresses that you don when you go undercover with Sylus at nefarious underground auctions in the N109 Zone.

He’s almost collapsed onto his studio floor when someone in his network sent him pictures of you and Sylus filling the role of a couple just a little too well at the galas you attend together.

Rafayel also hasn’t missed the longing in Sylus’ eyes when he gazes at you. Like you’re his, like you belong together.

His resolve snapping may as well have been audible.

Your boyfriend knows you would never cheat on him because that’s just not the type of person you are. Instead of making his insecurities known, he practically begs invites you over to his house to spend the weekend with him.

♡ ♥︎ ♡ ♥︎ ♡ ♥︎ ♡ ♥︎ ♡ ♥︎ ♡ ♥︎ ♡ ♥︎ ♡

As the week before your arrival slogs along, various scenarios plague his mind.

He worries that you may find Zayne’s stability more appealing. Or maybe you were charmed by Xavier during your last mission together. Perhaps you have been harboring a crush on your gege since childhood, and now you have the opportunity to act on it. Or, the worst option, you’re equally as enamored with Sylus as he is with you.

All these scenarios floating in and out of his mind hurt, so he decides to distract himself by throwing himself into creating more artwork. He ends up producing so much that Thomas calls, texts and e-mails him to make sure he is doing okay. Rafayel skillfully avoids the attempts his friend makes to reach him and continues this pattern until the weekend mercifully arrives.

♡ ♥︎ ♡ ♥︎ ♡ ♥︎ ♡ ♥︎ ♡ ♥︎ ♡ ♥︎ ♡ ♥︎ ♡

You arrive mid-morning at Rafayel’s home by the beach and let yourself in with your key. A big smile spreads across your face when you find him in his studio, sitting in front of a mostly blank canvas on an easel.

“Raf my love! I feel like I haven’t seen you in so long. I missed you,” you say sweetly as you pull him in for a hug. Rafayel chuckles and encircles your back while nuzzling his nose into your hair. He basks in your presence before replying.

“Well, since someone is constantly busy we haven’t had a chance to spend time together. Reddie and I were starting to feel neglected,” he says while pouting.

You huff and pull back from the hug so you can gaze into his eyes. “I have been all over the place lately, haven’t I? Let me say hi to Reddie first. Then we can make up for lost time.”

Rafayel hums in agreement before taking your hand and guiding you over to Reddie’s tank. After cooing at the red fish and admiring the accessories added to his tank, Rafayel strolls back over to his paintings.

You two spend a few hours in his studio as you have Rafayel explain what inspired the painting he’s completed since you were last in his studio. During his explanations, he leaves light, fleeting touches all over your body. They’re light enough to be perceived as unintentional, but noticeable enough to leave you flustered.

By the time he reaches the last painting, you are craving a more direct touch from him. Since you haven’t been around each other for weeks, your fingers and toys have been your best friends. But they could never come close to satisfying you like your boyfriend does.

You are captivated as you watch Rafayel talk about his artwork. His alluring features have always drawn you in. You’ve joked around and called him a siren before, but in this moment, you start to feel like you may have been closer to the truth than not.

Because everything about him lures you in, his melodic voice, his lavender eyes and the feeling of something brimming behind his lax demeanor and quick wit.

You feel like a guppy in the face of a shark, ready to be consumed, but you can’t find it in yourself to fight back. You’re snapped out of your daze when Rafayel says “Am I boring you cutie? You looked like your mind was miles away.”

You feel your face flush and you clear your dry throat before speaking. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You avert your gaze away from the amused expression on his face as you look towards the window in his studio.

Rafayel noticed your attention straying farther and farther with each delicate touch he left on your body. He can already tell you’re turned on and in need of attention just from the look in your eyes. But he wants to tease you for a little longer, so he changes the subject, for now.

“Do you want to take a walk on the beach with me? My hermit crab friends have been asking about you.”

You agree eagerly, grateful that you escaped his teasing for the time being. You walk to his bedroom to rummage through your drawers before selecting the bathing suit you want to wear today.

It is a pastel lavender two piece that reminds you of your favorite fishie’s eye color. After changing into your bathing suit and slipping on a cover up, you find your flip flops before meeting Rafayel at his front door.

“Let’s go cutie, before my friends get restless.” You silently nod in reply.

As you two reach the beach and begin walking on the sand, you remove your flip flops and let your toes sink down into the perfectly warm sand. You stand still for a moment and soak in the feeling of the sun enveloping your body. After getting your fill, you continue on your walk.

You aren’t sure if the tension you’ve felt since arriving is legitimate or if Rafayel is teasing you on purpose.

You can practically feel Rafayel’s heated gaze on your figure as you two walk hand in hand close to the ebbing and flow of the tide.

He’s grabbed you around your waist to guide you in the direction of his hermit crab friends.

When you witness the sunset together, he holds you close to his front and huffs warm puffs of air on your neck as he whispers in your ear.

Either way, you feel a weird combination of antsy and aroused after your time at the beach.

You walk back to his home and shower before relaxing on his couch to watch a movie. Currently, you are cuddling on his couch. Both of you are laying on your sides with Rafayel laying behind you.

Your boyfriend has been texting you about this artistic indie film that came out a month ago and now you can watch it with him. You follow the plot in the beginning of the film, but you aren’t able to focus for long.

While you both watch the film Rafayel is touching you once again. You fixate on his fingers slowing inching under the waistband of your pajama shorts where he rubs tender circles on your hip. You can’t help but squirm because his fingers are not where you want them to be.

Your unsubtle movements catch Rafayel’s attention. He pauses the film before asking innocently, “You’ve been distracted all day cutie, is there something you need?”

You stop squirming as you try to come up with an excuse. “I just feel a little restless my love, don’t mind me though. Let’s continue watching the movie.”

Rafayel does not seem convinced by your answer. “You seem more than restless to me. I think you’re feeling needy.”

You sputter at his observation.

“Am I wrong? Don’t you want me to take care of you?”

You feel your insides clench at his offer.

“Yes please.”

“Mmm,” is the only response you receive before you both settle down to cuddle again and he turns the film back on. Instead of continuing to rub your hip, his fingers dip inside of your shorts and begin to head towards your throbbing clit. You feel like you’re going to vibrate out of your skin with anticipation.

You feel a jolt run through your body as he leaves feather light kisses on the exposed column of your neck. His agonizingly slow journey ends with him circling your aching clit. You let out a small moan at the sensation, but it is not enough.

 “You’re interrupting the movie,” he says before continuing to teasingly rub his fingers in a circular motion around your aching clit before finally rubbing on it directly.

You muffle your cry of relief as Rafayel uses the slick that’s accumulated between your folds as lubricant. The pleasurable friction quickly pushes you towards climax because you’ve been so tightly wound up all day.

Just when your tummy tightens and your toes begin to curl, Rafayel abruptly removes his hand from your clit. He slips his hand out of your pajama shorts and licks his fingers clean of your essence.

You whine out in protest. “Why did you stop?”

“Pause the movie for me.”

You shakily grab the remote and press the pause button before he speaks. “I’ve been thinking…since you’ve prioritized other people over me lately, do you really deserve to cum?”

Your heart was already beating fast from having your climax snatched away from you. But now it is accelerating for an entirely different reason.

You sit up and turn around to face him. His face is blank and the storm roaring in his darkened lavender eyes is tumultuous. You can tell he is upset.

A sense of dread builds up in your chest along with the strong pulse in your clit. You don’t often see Rafayel drop his usual lackadaisical attitude. But when it does drop, he could be a completely different person.

“W-what do you mean? I haven’t been spending less time with you on purpose. There has just been a lot going on.”

Rafayel’s face remains blank as his eyes meet yours. A small smirk overtakes his pink lips.

“You didn’t answer my question. Since you clearly prefer being in the company of Caleb, Xavier, Zayne and Sylus, instead of your loving and devoted boyfriend, do you deserve to cum right now?”

You feel a light tremble overtake your body at how his voice has deepened with his change in demeanor.

“I want to cum, but I also want to resolve this misunderstanding between us.”

Rafayel considers your words for a moment, letting the tense silence fill his living room.

“There is no misunderstanding, I know what you’ve been up to. Since you seem focused on resolving this, I have an idea on how we can do that.”

This is how you end up hovering over Rafayel in his bed, on your knees with his cock filling your mouth. You bob your head up and down his length as you maintain eye contact with him. His hand is gripping your hair as he lightly guides you to the base of him. There is drool leaking from your mouth and you are moaning weakly as he uses your mouth.

Usually, you are the one teasing Rafayel and making him bend to your every whim in the bedroom. Having these roles reversed makes your brain short circuit. The feeling of him thrusting up into your warm, wet mouth combined with the sound of his panting breaths has made you an unbearably wet mess.

Your eyes begin to glaze over as you start to feel cock drunk from this treatment. You move your unoccupied hand down to your core so you can rub your clit. But Rafayel’s grips on your hair tightens just enough to snap you back to reality.

His face is flushed and his eyelids are lowered, but his voice remains firm as when says, “I didn’t give you permission to touch yourself.”

You whimper around his length and move your hand away from your throbbing clit. Instead, you proceed to give him the sloppiest blowjob you can muster. You need to focus your pent-up energy on something if not yourself.

Before long, the pitch of Rafayel’s moans reach a new height as he frantically thrusts into your drooling mouth. You run your tongue over the veins of his cock and fondle his balls before he’s cumming down your throat with a melodic groan. You swallow every last drop before letting him slip out of your mouth.

As he fights to catch his breath he looks towards you and says, “I’m not done with you yet, come ride me.”

Scared that he’ll change his mind, you quickly scramble to rip off your shorts and straddle him. You are beyond turned on from being teased and unable to touch yourself the entire day. As you grab his cock and place it against your sopping opening, Rafayel grips your hips, stopping you from sinking down.

You feel tears well up in your eyes because you don’t think you can take being denied again.

“Do you love me?” Rafayel asks so quietly that you almost miss it over the beating of your own heart.

“I do,” you whisper back without hesitation.

“Does anyone else turn you on this much?”

“No baby, only you. I promise.”

Seeming satisfied with your answer, Rafayel uses your hips as leverage to help you sink down onto him. Your eyes clench shut at the euphoric feeling of having your boyfriend inside of you.

You keen and feel your walls flutter around the intrusion as your juices soak his cock. Rafayel groans when your hips finally meet his. Once you’re firmly seated you open your eyes and see a vulnerable look in your boyfriend’s eyes.

“I may or may not have felt envious over the quality time you’ve been spending with your friends lately. I just don’t want you to forget me,” Rafayel mumbles as you both adjust.

Your heart aches at him even thinking that he could be so easily replaced. You press your upper body flush against his then cup his face tenderly before running your thumb along with bottom lip.

“You have nothing to be jealous of Raf. You have my heart and no one can change that.”

A flush spreads to the tips of his ears before he pulls you into a kiss. You both sink into each other as your hips find a slow and sensual rhythm, grinding your hips in a circle on his lap.

Your lips part to take a breath and Rafayel looks up at you with utter devotion in his eyes. You use his chest to push yourself upright on his length.

“Has the thought of leaving me for someone else ever crossed your mind?” he asks in a small voice, as if he’s afraid to ruin the mood.

You lift yourself up to the tip of this cock then let gravity take the wheel as you slam down hard onto his lap, practically knocking the breath out of him.

“No Raf. Our connection is special, like we knew each other in another life. I would be lost without you.”

Rafayel groans at your heartfelt declaration feeling his climax rapidly approaching.

“Touch yourself, please. I want to see you cum for me.”

Overjoyed, you rub your clit and begin to bounce on in his lap. You feel your climax approaching, “I want to cum for you so bad, only you. I’ve been so pent up these past few weeks.”

Rafayel’s eyes are shining as he takes in a sight he will never tire of. You are more breathtaking than any painting he’s created when you’re close to release.

“Then cum.”

You do and he follows closely after.

♡ ♥︎ ♡ ♥︎ ♡ ♥︎ ♡ ♥︎ ♡ ♥︎ ♡ ♥︎ ♡ ♥︎ ♡

After that weekend you try your hardest to diminish Rafayel’s insecurities. Even though you can’t visit him as often as you’d like, he has started to stay over at your apartment so you can share meals together and bask in each other’s company during the work week.

He is your beloved boyfriend, and you never want him to feel forgotten again.

[chanelrolls]

PART XII. caleb's series

n. it's advisable to read all parts of the series. cw: pseudocest

"to you through the screen"

you, 17 | caleb, 19

you liked to sit by the window when it rained.

and so, caleb knew this even though he was already two cities away for college.

he watched from the tiny screen nestled beneath a textbook on his dorm desk, volume muted, rain flickering on his side of the window too. but instead of the outside world, he watched your world. a quiet living room, soft yellow lighting, and you curled by the window, your knees tucked up, a book in your lap you barely read.

you always looked like you were waiting for something, or maybe someone.

his fingers curled against the desk.

“you’re being weird again,” his roommate had said the other night, waving a hand in front of his face. “staring at your phone like some guy in a long-distance relationship.”

caleb had just smiled. no, he wanted to say. it’s not like that. but also- yes. maybe it was.

you didn’t know why you kept checking your phone these days.

he used to text you constantly stupid things. blurry photos of his late-night ramen, videos of airplanes roaring overhead, voice notes of him humming random songs in the shower. but ever since the semester had gotten harder, the messages slowed.

he still texted sometimes, always when you needed it most.

but what you didn’t know was that caleb always knew when you needed it most.

even now. curled up by the window, you sighed into your sleeves and whispered, "i miss you, gege." not realizing your voice, your sigh, your entire posture - had already been recorded by the hidden mic he installed in your room under the excuse of “upgrading the wifi router.”

he heard you. every time.

he watched you that night when you stayed up too late, when you ignored three calls from some boy named zayne from your physics class. when you stood in front of the mirror and tried on the new cardigan, twirling half-heartedly.

his blood ran hot when you smiled at yourself, even just a little.

and colder when you sighed and folded it away again.

it had started with just one camera, then a tracker in your phone, then a hidden app on your laptop.

he told himself it was for safety. only for safety.

but then he’d started saving your photos, screenshots of you reading, you painting. even the blurry ones from the kitchen cam when you cooked instant noodles at 1am.

he didn’t know what scared him more; how much he missed you, or how much he needed to know you still belonged to him.

on a tuesday night, you left your window open by accident.

and caleb, who hadn’t planned to call you - not when he had an exam in twelve hours - found himself dialing your number anyway.

you picked up in one ring.

“gege?” your voice was laced with surprise. you never expected him anymore. never waited, even though you always did.

“you left the window open again,” he said quietly, the warmth of his voice threading through your speaker like he was there.

you blinked.

“…how did you—?”

he could hear the shuffle of your footsteps, the soft slam of wood, your breath.

he didn’t answer it.

“you’ll catch a cold, pip,” he murmured instead. “it’s late.”

“…i was just thinking.”

“about?”

“…you, gege.”

and there was a pause. his hand tightened around the phone.

“yeah?” his voice lowered.

“mm.” you lay back down on your bed, smile faint. ���i miss you.”

he swallowed.

“…i miss you too.”

a pause again.

then, you say- “do you think i’m being silly? always missing you like this?”

caleb’s lips parted. his other hand reached unconsciously to the keyboard, the open tab of your location blinking quietly at the edge of his screen.

how could he tell you? how deeply, violently, possessive he had become. how much he watched, how often he checked.

he didn’t speak for a moment.

then softly, “no. i think it’s perfect.”

“you do?”

“mm. because i miss you the same way.” then quieter- “…maybe even more.”

you went silent. and on his end, the rain kept ticking against the dorm window like a soft metronome.

you didn’t know you were being watched. you didn’t know he had been watching for months. but you did know, deep down, that caleb was still wrapped around you like a ribbon - even if the knot had begun to twist into something you no longer recognized.

“i love you, gege,” you whispered.

and from miles away, with a dozen hidden screens and all the wrong reasons, he whispered back, “i love you more, pipsqueak.”

then slowly, he closed the tab.

but not for long.

because when he tells himself it's just this once, it always ends up being the nth time. when he watches you through the sceen, keeping track of what time you took a shower, he takes his time working himself off down there to the sight of his sweet little girl.

pleasuring himself, watching you, trying to swallow the guilt in his throat while grunting your name in a breathless haze.

it was wrong, yeah.

but he couldn't help his hormones. caleb was a growing man, and he needed to stop the ache especially when he was stressed.

and he found nobody else as pleasant as you. you were the only choice.

so, just this once, this is the last time.

gege promises.

[inabsolutions]

swallowed whole.

in short: thigh highs and caleb having to take off said thigh highs because i'm a degenerate.

based on this thought. cw for use of gege. slight nsfw toward the end

———

“Better now?”

Caleb asks as he kneels to help you take off your heels. Then he massages your ankles, and you sigh at the warm sensation of his hands through the thin socks.

“Yeah,” you sigh in relief as you flop back against the bed. “Thanks.”

After an entire day of playing outside, your feet were killing you. Heels are cute and all, but the pain from wearing them too long is definitely not. Caleb had carried you in his arms the entire way home, bumping his forehead against yours in reprimand when you tried to protest, Set me down, this is so embarrassing.

If I have to get on my knees in public to beg you to let me carry you, it’ll be even more embarrassing for you.

His eyes had twinkled with mirth, and you scowled as you laid a light punch to his shoulder. He’d do it in an instance if you keep refusing, you know. Caleb is a bully.

Because you let me, he teased.

That shut you up real well. You gave in, not wanting to kick up a fuss—and your throbbing feet thanked you for it.

Which led to Caleb carrying you to your bedroom in his house in Skyhaven. And he’s still kneeling there, massaging your foot. You sigh at the pressure of his thumbs as they knead into the arch of a sole to work out the knot of tension there.

“You’re so good at this, it’s unfair,” you say.

“Had a lot of practice,” he says. “Who always had to give a certain someone a massage after her runs before?”

You wiggle your toes, a smile playing at the corner of your lips. “That someone must not be me,” you say smartly. “You volunteered.”

“Only because you’d be whining about your muscles being too sore the next day if I didn’t.”

“I can also give you a massage if you want,” you offer.

Caleb shakes his head in amusement. “Given past experiences, you’d only be up to no good.”

You flush slightly. Well, you’d meant to help him out with a massage at the beginning, you really did. It’s not your fault that his, ahem, body was so interesting to explore. One thing led to another, and the massage was still a massage—just in an entirely different way.

It’s not like you hated it. Nor what came after, as much of a tease Caleb had been in the aftermath of your little venture in trying to discover how much you can push him. How low his voice could go.

Upon seeing your expression, Caleb chuckles. “Thinking of something naughty again?”

There’s a gleam in his eyes, as though he’d known what you were thinking.

This isn’t good. You’re losing the upper hand here. You catch the trail of his gaze up your legs and it reminds you of how the whole day, he’d been glancing at your legs. A slight bob to his throat whenever he swallowed. Every time your skirt rode up, his eyes wandered.

You don’t wear socks with your skirts often, but the weather was slightly chilly today, so the occasion seemed appropriate. And somehow, it just ended up that the pair you’d chosen ended right in the middle of your thighs, right below the skirt.

Tara had assured you they’d be cute when you went shopping together with her. You find yourself grateful for it, if only because you have more ammo now.

“Come here,” you say while you pat the spot on the bed next to you.

Caleb tilts his head—like a confused puppy, you think fondly—but does as you ask. Upon sitting next to you, you swing your legs in his direction, draping them right over his lap.

“I think these socks are a bit too tight,” you say. You scoot a little closer to him. “It’s affecting the circulation of my legs.”

Caleb clears his throat. “...Are they?”

You gaze at him meaningfully.

“They are,” you say. “So they should be taken off.”

“And I suppose it’s up to me to do it?”

“My hands,” you say dramatically, “they’re so tired.”

“From picking up chopsticks at dinner, I’m guessing,” Caleb says. You pout and he laughs as he ruffles your hair. “All right, all right, I never said I wouldn’t help you.”

Said casually, but his eyes have darkened into the indigo of a sky at dusk. The open window of your bedroom soaks the room in a blood-orange, leaving the two of you in a hazy boundary between day and night. A realm where no one would be the wiser to any misdeeds. Caleb’s fingers skim up your calves, touch landing light and delicate over the layer of fabric over your skin, and the contact leaves behind a tingle that spreads like a heatwave in July.

“Take it off carefully,” you say slowly.

“Mm. When have I ever been anything but careful with you?”

You could list a few times. More than a few, actually. Mostly in situations just like this—in bed. Him at your mercy, and you at his. Victory and defeat has always been a two way street when it comes to the two of you.

You sigh as his hand slides up and rests at the top of your socks. Fingertips pressed right against your bare skin, rough and warm. You shift in place, the blue of your skirt riding up as its hem meets his wrist.

Any higher, and his hand would be right between your legs. Knuckles brushing against more than just the skirt.

But he doesn’t reach any higher. Instead, he plucks at the cuff of a sock before hooking a finger inside. And just like you demanded, the slight friction of fabric as he drags it down is slow and intentful. Nails skimming against skin as he pulls your sock all the way down. One down, one to go; however, he seems to have gotten distracted in the process though, because he’s rubbing soothing circles into your calf muscle again.

“Your skin is so soft,” Caleb says, voice tinged in a slight awe, as though this is still the first time he’s touched you so intimately.

“It’s because gege raised me with a lot of tenderness,” you say lightly. “Though the way he’s looking at me right now… It feels like he’s about to reap what he’s sown.”

Caleb looks at you. There’s a downward slant to his mouth, and for a moment, he resembles more a guilty schoolboy caught skipping school. Your mouth dries, and the volatile heart in your chest quivers. “Not without your permission,” he says. “Never.”

“I know,” you breathe.

“Do you hate it?” he asks. “When he’s like this? When he wants so obviously.”

Caleb’s hand withdraws from your skin, but you pull it back. Your fingers are so small compared to his, but he’s weak to your wills and lets you do as you want, no resistance at all against the force of you. You settle his hand against the leg with the sock yet to be taken off. Palm pressed right against your thigh. His fingers curl up, a slight resistance there—as though he’s afraid to touch. A pilgrim enticed by a statue of a goddess, anticipating the burn of holy fire.

“I hate it,” you say, “when he thinks he’s hated. When he draws away from me. When he doesn’t listen to me because there’s still one sock left on my feet, isn’t there?”

Caleb swallows. Again, just like he’d done when you purposely swished your skirt so that it rode up your leg as you skipped ahead of him on the street, tugging him along. His gaze stuck to the slip of skin between your skirt and your socks before his eyes cut away to the side of the street, faking preoccupation in the street signs.

“You’re right,” Caleb says finally. “My job isn’t done yet.” With that, he peels the other sock off you too, fingers just as delicate as with the first one. The cool air landing over your bare legs makes you sigh. “There. Did I do well?”

“Yes,” you say, lips curling up. “But the way you put it makes it sound like you’re expecting a reward. Do you want a reward, Caleb?”

“If I say yes,” he wonders, “will I regret it?”

You’re being mean. You know you are. But Caleb just makes so fun, you couldn’t help yourself. If you knew wearing thigh high socks would be able to get him so distracted and excited, if taking them off is enough to have him so obvious with his desires, you wouldn’t have worn them—

That’s a lie. You would have worn it way earlier, if given the knowledge.

You rub your foot slightly against his lap, hiding a smile when you feel him harden. A gentle pink spreads across his cheeks, hard to tell in the dim dusk, but you know it’s there just from experience.

“Really? From just my foot?”

Caleb grunts in response as you up the ante, heel of your foot digging into the rising bulge in his pants.

“You’re a bit of a pervert, you know that, Caleb?” you say offhandedly.

“And you’re a bit of a tease,” Caleb says. His voice has dipped low and quiet, gaze following your lips. There’a a predatory hunger to him, wound up and ready to pounce. How much further could you push him before he breaks?

“There’s worse things to be,” you say. You reach for his hand and drag it over your body again, up and up and up until it reaches the apex of your thighs where you’ve dampened your underwear, and you know he feels it because he swallows and goes very, very still. You manipulate his fingers against the wet seams of your folds, rubbing his knuckles against the soaked fabric there, and he just watches you the entire time, shadows playing over his hooded eyes. You shiver as you stroke his hand up and down, grinding over him, but it’s not enough. You’re almost there, but not all the way, and trying to reach the peak without his active involvement makes it that much harder. It’s only when you’re panting, “Ge, it’s not enough”, that he finally stirs, lips pressed thin—

Then lunges.

“Hey!” You cry out in surprise as you land back against the bed, Caleb towering over you, hands caged around your head. His shadow looms like the overwhelming shade of an overgrown tree, and there it is, the snap of an elastic band stretched too thin to sustain itself.

“You asked for this,” he says, “so you can’t regret it, okay?”

Caleb shoves your underwear aside, and before you can even protest, two of his fingers have already slipped inside with ease, entry facilitated by the slick dripping from the entrance. You jolt. A pool of heat settles in the pit of your stomach, making you leak even more onto his hand. Perhaps you should have been satisfied now, having accomplished exactly what you’ve set out to do, but the indulgent tone of his voice reminds you of when he’d fucked you to the point of tears even though you’d begged and begged.

Ah. Maybe you did go a little too far.

Caleb seems to recognize your apprehension, because he smiles. It doesn’t reach his eyes. “Scared?” Caleb says.

“No, but is it too late to apologize?” you say weakly.

“Not really,” Caleb says lightly, as though he isn’t in the process of stretching you out his fingers. You arch your back, moaning as he hooks them just the right way, so casual in the knowledge of exactly where you like it best. The only other person who knows you best, next to yourself. “Doesn’t mean I’ll stop though.”

“Then I’m—hah—definitely not going to apologize!”

“That’s fine—I have other ways of making you say sorry,” Caleb says. “That’ll be enough for my reward.”

[accio-victuuri]

cpn catch-up: of interview clues, mushrooms, flowers 🍄🌸

at the rate cpns are raining down on us, you only blink and boom you missed alot. lol. so this is my attempt at catching up before weibo night comes in tomorrow.

gege had a really good interview for his portrait magazine interview! it’s nice to know his thoughts on certain topics. he is definitely calm and in a good space. the next month/s will be chaotic for him due to loch promotions but i’m confident he can deal with it 🫶🏼

for his wonderful interview, i wanna list down a few cpn-y points…

1. in the beginning he was talking about what changed and he said he was more composed/calm and self-focused. adding that before he was conscious of what others thought of him, but now, he relies more on his own judgment. this is ( atleast to me ) exactly how yibo has been lately, especially with being calm. you can totally see that during live events and in just the way he expresses himself.

yibo has always been someone who didn’t care much about what others think of him, and i’d like to cpn that this kind of attitude transferred to xz. their relationship also influenced that, they are secured with who they are so none of the outside voices matter anyone.

love that for them!

2. both of them exercising for strength and not necessarily to be thin.

3. i like how fans are playing up the real life yizhan AU of xz as a bakery owner and yibo as a race car driver.

4. there was a part of him talking about his best when he experiences challenges in acting. that kind of drive, they are so similar! they are not afraid to do things over and over again till they get it right. and no matter what happens, they know they did their best.

5. when xz said that he is lucky and happy 💕

of course there are a lot of factors that contribute to that. i will not disregard his own growth as a person from his personal experiences cause he went through ALOT for the past five years. but it surely helped that he has someone on his side to help him.

there may be more but as a fan this was such a good interview. proof that he is happy with where he is right now, it’s not perfect. he still has fears of failing but his disposition is so much stronger now.

from something serious, let’s move to clownery. the mushroom in the loewe shoot 😂😂😂 if you saw their ig post about yibo that was included. makes us think of the mushroom that wakes up at 4:00 AM

do they know about this? HAHAHAHAHAHA!

and lastly, yibo sent a flower arrangement to Hu Jun as a gift for his play. and we noticed that one of the flower/s is the same as what xz received before. is it a type that he likes to send for congratulations?

-END.

[echochqmber]

@here4hualian kissmas day 11: true love's kiss

When Hong-er was young, he had a favorite fairytale.

It was never a story his mother told him. No, this was a story he heard from outside an open window on a cold night, looking in on something he thought he could never have.

The fairytale was about a young man, cursed to appear as something hideous. Everyone who saw him scorned him, except a young maiden who took pity on him. One day, that maiden gifted the young man with a kiss, and when she pulled away, she saw that her love had transformed him into a handsome prince.

That old fairytale was the fuel for many of a teenage Hong-er's daydreams.

Which is why he doesn't hesitate to recite it when Xie Lian asks him what his favorite stories were as a kid.

Xie Lian nods. "I can see why you liked it."

"Well, that should be a given." An ugly thing turned beautiful by true love's kiss? What wasn't desirable about that?

Not that that had actually happened for Hua Cheng. He'd been kissed plenty of times by the love of his life, but he still saw the same face looking back at him from the mirror. Which, he doesn't blame or doubt Xie Lian for. There's only so many miracles a god can perform.

"It's a metaphor, isn't it?" Xie Lian's voice pulls Hua Cheng from his thoughts, and the ghost starts.

"What?"

"The story. That just one person can be enough."

"I... suppose."

Xie Lian smiles, leaning forward to place a lasting, gentle kiss on Hua Cheng's lips. When he pulls, he gazes down at his husband with the sort of fondness Hong-er could have only fantasized about. "You're beautiful, San Lang," he whispers.

A breath he doesn't need catches in Hua Cheng's throat. "If... if gege says so."

Xie Lian laughs. "I don't just say so, silly boy. I know so."

[gojonanami]

do you think any of the men can sing really well? i’m kinda curious honestly.

oh when i got this ask i had soooo many thoughts

gojo: it's established by gege that he's good at anything he tries, so this man is effortlessly good at singing. he can hit those low and high notes all day long - and he's so good that karaoke with him is almost no fun lol. but when he sings to you on those rare moments alone at home on the couch, or in bed cuddling, or just in the car -- it's perfect.

geto: oh i think this man can sing but he's super humble about it. he's like no, i really can't. but when you hear him sing in the shower or in the car or wherever he thinks no one can hear him, his voice is so soothing -- especially with those low notes. his deep voice would be so calming (i mean listen to his japanese va say 'satoru' and tell me he wouldn't be good at singing).

nanami: he also has a nice voice, but doesn't like to sing in public or in front of anyone. the first time you catch him singing is when he's up cooking breakfast before you, and you come out of the bedroom to find him with his back turned as he cooks, and he's humming and singing a song that stuck in his head. after that you're constantly after him to sing for you, and he obliges here and there, especially when you're tired and you insist his singing is just the thing to put you to sleep.

choso: this man doesn't know how to sing - he barely knows anything outside of curse culture and his priorities are his brothers so music and singing are not even on the list. but when you start to play more music and sing around him, he wants to join in -- so you try to teach him how to sing, and it doesn't go so well at first. but once he gets the hang of it, he likes to learn songs for you, especially your favorite songs so he can sing them for you.

yuta: yuta has a really nice voice, but gets really flustered so when you ask him to sing, there's a lot of blushing and a bit stuttering involved. but as he gets more comfortable with you, he's singing along to your favorite songs and even singing in the shower above a whisper.

hiromi: he's tone deaf. don't ask me why, he just looks like a man who doesn't know how to sing. he likes to act like he does, but all he has is a low baritone voice that he can carry a tune in here and there. but he literally can't do anything else (but he knows it).

[quinnyundertow]

Ahhhhh the commission I ordered for “When I catch you Gege” Chapter 6 was just completed! So excited! Yuta and Junpei ❤️❤️ Art done by the amazing @elsartzz

Excerpt from Chapter 6

It took every fiber of your being to not follow him the last twenty feet to the shed. You doubled over gasping heavily trying to catch your breath from the long sprint. You could hear the sounds of Junpei being beaten as the door to the shed was ripped from the sliding track it was on. Your eyes were wide in shock as the metal doorway was thrown through the air like a scrap of paper in the wind. The weight of it only showed when it crashed to the ground and impaled itself into the mud of the grass field.

Various yells of surprise were heard at the dramatic opening of the supply building before the sheer chaos of hell itself devolved in front of you. Hellish screams escaped through the now gaping maw of the open entry. Pure unbridled fear escaped the men who had beat Junpei as Rika laughed hysterically. You heard the crunch of bones and the squelch of flesh being pounded into the ground. One of the men tried to make a break for it. He appeared from the shed in an attempt to escape retribution. He had almost made it into the light of the outside world when a massive white hand reached out of the dark and clasped itself around the man's leg. Black nails punctured into the fat of the bully’s calves as the special grade curse Rika dragged him back into the interior darkness screaming. His face twisted in terror as his hands scrabbled against the dirt uselessly before he disappeared back into the shed.

A moment later, from the darkness emerged another form. Junpei came flying out of the pitch black, his outfit damaged and his face bloodied from the beat down the bullies had given him before Rika and Yuta emerged into the dark. Upon seeing him you started crying, calling out his name. His eyes met yours as he startled at you being here. You rushed into him throwing your arms around his neck before burying your face into his shoulder. He looked down at you. The fear he felt mixing with new concern and confusion, “Y/n? What are you doing here?! We need to get out of here!”

Junpei’s arms wrapped tight around you as you sobbed into him, “It’s okay Junpei, that’s my friend Yuta. I’m so sorry we were late, I almost failed you again.” Junpei froze his face in an expression of awe as he looked back towards the small shack.

Only silence was heard from the shed now. It was broken by Yuta in a cold and remorseless tone, “If you or anyone else so much as looks at Junpei the wrong way again you won’t escape with your lives.” There were some noises of understanding in the form of moans before Yuta emerged from the shed back into the light. A smattering of blood was on his white school shirt and on his cheek, his clothing only slightly ruffled.

Junpei stared wide eyed at the newcomer as you turned your crying face from where it hid in Junpei’s shoulder to look where Yuta stood. “That’s…your friend?” Junpei asked speechlessly.

You nodded into his chest, your arms letting go from around his neck to wrap around Junpei’s middle tightly. “Junpei, are you okay? I was so scared, did they hurt you badly?”

You and Junpei had your eyes on Yuta who stood somewhat awkwardly in the background. Yuta tried to make his expression disarming with a small smile, his eyes closed. It didn’t really work considering the blood covering him and Rika’s ominous presence; but Yuta couldn’t look more beautiful to you than he did in this moment.

Junpei returned his gaze to your tear stained face. He flushed hard at the concern for him he saw there. A heat went through him as your body pressed tightly up against his own. “Y/n, listen, don’t cry, I'm okay. They’ve done way worse before. Besides, your friend made sure that won’t happen again…”

You nodded, sniffling, letting Junpei go reluctantly before you moved towards where Yuta stood. Rika lurked behind him a wide grin on her face as she examined her claws sprayed with blood. You looked at Rika first knowing she had done the brute force of the job, “Thank you Rika.” You bowed to her in gratitude. You turned to Yuta now, fresh tears starting to fall at his kind expression, “Thank you Yuta.”

He smiled down at you before putting a hand on the top of your head, “Hey, everything is okay now. Please don’t cry.” He lifted his other hand to your cheek to use his thumb to wipe the remaining tears off your face. “You did a great job Y/n we made it just in time.” the hand on your head stroked your hair lightly in reassurance.

You nodded, turning slightly to include Junpei, “Junpei this is Yuta, the friend I wanted you to meet.”

Junpei nodded behind you before bowing in gratitude as well, “Thanks..”, the fear from earlier was no longer in his expression, just a deep curiosity. This shouldn’t surprise you given Junpei had a similar reaction to Mahito killing his bullies in the theater in a much more violent way. Junpei looked down at his feet before continuing, “Can you teach me how to do that?”

Yuta blinked in surprise, shocked that the new boy wasn’t terrified of him. He barked out a laugh in response before saying, “No clue, but I guess we can find out together.”

[ajmasch]

@here4hualian kissmas day 6: a kiss that turns heated

mature content ahead~

Xie Lian was determined: Today was the day he was finally going to have sex with his boyfriend. He had the perfect plan. Classes were over for the semester, but he and Hua Cheng had a couple days before their flight back to visit Xie Lian’s family, and most importantly, Mu Qing, his roommate, was leaving today. He bought all the ingredients to make Hua Cheng’s favorite food, got a recommendation from Shi Qingxuan for a movie that would be romantic enough to set the mood, and invited Hua Cheng over.

It had been snowing for a couple hours already by the time Hua Cheng arrived.

“San Lang!” Xie Lian greeted him excitedly. “Your cheeks are all red!”

“Gege, Gege, it’s so cold outside, your poor San Lang’s face nearly froze off on the way here! If only there were some way to warm him up…”

What else could Xie Lian do but cradle his face and kiss him after that?

Hua Cheng praised his cooking as usual (“though, maybe add a bit more salt next time?”) and Xie Lian moved on to stage two of his plan. The living room window in his apartment was slightly busted and tended to let in cold air, which maintenance had yet to get around to fixing, so convincing Hua Cheng to put on a movie and cuddle under a blanket was easy.

“San Lang, do you mind waiting a moment before we start? I want to put on something a little more comfortable first.” Xie Lian was currently wearing a sweater he had gotten while shopping with Shi Qingxuan, and while it was very cute it was also somewhat scratchy.

“Of course. This San Lang would never want his Gege to be uncomfortable,” Hua Cheng replied, stretching out across the sofa. “I will await your return with baited breath.”

“San Lang,” Xie Lian chuckled at his ridiculous boyfriend and ducked into his bedroom to change. As quickly as he could, he threw on a pair of pajama shorts and an oversized hoodie he stole from Hua Cheng and walked back out.

“Gege…” Xie Lian heard Hua Cheng’s breath catch when he saw him and smiled to himself. He climbed on to the sofa, half next to and half on top of Hua Cheng and pulled the blanket over them both.

“Let’s start the movie!”

As the opening scenes began to play, Xie Lian focused on the feel of Hua Cheng behind him. His boyfriend was tense, clearly trying not to show too clearly his reaction to Xie Lian’s outfit. It felt good, knowing he could have this effect on the usually-composed Hua Cheng.

He shifted back slightly, pressing more of his body up against Hua Cheng and barely suppressing a giggle when he felt him stiffen behind him.

“Gege, what are you doing?” Hua Cheng whispered.

“I’m cold,” Xie Lian replied. “Won’t San Lang warm his Gege up?” The choked off noise he received in response would live in his brain forever. Still, Hua Cheng complied, wrapping his arm around Xie Lian and pulling him close.

“Mm, San Lang smells good,” Xie Lian praised, twisting around so he could nose at Hua Cheng’s neck.

“Gege, this is getting dangerous,” Hua Cheng warned.

“I was hoping it would,” Xie Lian answered, wiggling his hips against where he could feel Hua Cheng’s growing interest pressing against him. Hua Cheng inhaled sharply.

“Gege-”

“I want it, San Lang. I want you.”

A moment, and then- Hua Cheng’s lips were on his and he was finally being devoured in the way he wanted. A hand slipped under the hoodie and traced a line along his side and he broke away to gasp.

“Cold!”

“Apologies, Gege. Allow this San Lang to warm you up.” He lifted the edge of the hoodie higher and began to trace the path his fingers made with his mouth. The contrast between the chill of his fingers and the sudden heat of his mouth sent shivers through Xie Lian’s entire body and he couldn’t help the moan that escaped him at the sensation.

“Fuck, Gege,” Hua Cheng said against his skin in between kisses. “Do you know what you do to me? Walking in here dressed like that, making all these beautiful noises for me-”

“That was- ah- kind of the point,” Xie Lian panted.

They were so caught up in each other than neither one noticed the sound of a key in the lock or the door opening. It wasn’t until the shouting began that they realized they weren’t as alone as they’d thought.

“What the fuck! On the couch?!”

In his shock, Xie Lian ended up shoving Hua Cheng away from him, causing him to tumble off the couch onto the floor.

“Mu Qing?” It came out as an embarrassed squeak. “I thought your flight was supposed to be leaving!”

“Check your texts,” Mu Qing scowled, unable to fully make eye contact with Xie Lian. “It was canceled because of the snowstorm.”

Xie Lian groaned and hid his face in the blanket.

“I’m going to go to my room and try to forget I ever saw this. I’d better not hear anything freaky from you two!” Mu Qing warned. He stormed off and closed his door forcefully behind him.

Xie Lian waited a moment then unburied his face to look at Hua Cheng, who was still on the floor where he’d fallen. They stared at each other with matching expressions of bewilderment for a second before bursting into laughter.

“His f-face!” Hua Cheng wheezed. Xie Lian laughed along with him until his face and stomach hurt and he had to gasp for air.

“I’m sorry, San Lang,” Xie Lian said once they’d calmed down some. “This isn’t how I meant the night to go.”

“I don’t care,” Hua Cheng reassured. “As long as it’s with you, it’s perfect.” He climbed back onto the couch and they spent the rest of the movie chatting away about anything and everything. Outside, the snow continued to fall, but in each other's arms, the cold couldn’t touch them.

[namazunomegami]

emperor!geto x imperial concubine!reader

a/n: I’ve spent way too much time to research about chinese imperial concubines, playing with Royal Chaos during my highschool years and I had a boring shift at work. This is the result. Probably out of character as hell but hey, I wrote this for my enjoyment.

This is part 1 of a lil historical AU drabble series. I’m already finished with Sukuna, Gojo is in the works, and I got some ideas for Choso and Toji but don't think too much about it, ideas are just ideas.

I was so close to write reader as gender neutral but reader owns a type of traditional chinese headgear used exclusively by noblewomen so... yeah, reader is afab if you squint (very hard).

Likes and reblogs are appreciated, mwah <3

wc: 1011, I initally wanted a few headcannons but I got a full ass drabble

cw: suggestive, false accusations, implied murder, mentions of whipping, choking (not the kinky kind), yandere behavior

credits: renmakia for the gorgeous fanart and my dear @notveryrussian for proofreading and just putting up with my massive jjk brainrot every day, luv ya darling <33

MDNI, if you do, I'm gonna catch you like I'm gonna catch Gege.

He’s a monarch who considers his mind a weapon and information as a whetstone despite being born in relative peace. Spending his leisure time reading Sun Ce, the scripts of Confucian and Taoist scholars, sharing afternoon teas and long walks around the gardens with Buddhist priests and conversing about reaching enlightenment. As if he desperately wanted to understand how the world he was meant to rule works. His mandate of heaven brought prosperity, a flourishing economy, a strong connection between allied realms, a good education system that produced more scholars than in any other time before.

Competing for his attention is not an easy task. You almost gave up, bracing yourself for a long and uneventful life where you can only admire him from afar. You sit in the shade of a willow tree with a board of xiangqi, your playmate having left you not so long ago and you were trying to figure out which tactics and strategies they should’ve used to defeat you. You’re so lost in your thoughts you can’t notice him standing there, in the presence of his guards. You kowtow to him, excusing yourself for daring to bother him, pleading for his patience while you pack your things and leave. He likes that your manners are spot on, and he rewards you with a command to stay, to play with him, since xiangqi is a game between two people. And based on the positions of the pieces on the board you’re an experienced player.

Of course, he defeats you with ease, but he’s grateful you showed him everything you’ve got and didn’t let him win. He tells you that his victory lies in applying the teachings of Sun Ce to his playstyle. Your eyes light up and you beg him to elaborate further, maybe he can help you improve your tactics in the next game. He’s such a well-read man, so hungry for knowledge, so desperate to understand people. You’re sure he wants to figure out your thoughts too, what you think about the world, what values dominate your heart. And the secret to win him over is to shower him with all the details and even politely disagree with some of his beliefs and explain your point of view. That’s what gets him going, knowing your place in the hierarchy but not being afraid to stand your ground. Mindless obedience, at this point, bores him. That’s probably the reason why he slowly starts to favor you, your conversations refresh him, inside and outside of his bedchambers.

You may think that earning your place in his heart is a lengthy and hard process, but when he becomes sure that your infatuation comes from an honest place, he generously rewards your efforts. He showers you with gifts, each more thoughtful than the other. He sends you scripts from his personal library about topics that interest you, fulus he received from his priests to protect you and your chambers, phoenix crowns so elaborately adorned with pearls, sapphires, small dragons, and phoenixes made from solid gold. Gowns embroidered with clouds, cranes dancing around them, gifting you a small piece of the sky itself he descended from. He elevates your rank quickly so you can accompany him during events. Letting the whole court look at you, wrapped in everything he gave you, standing so close you can see him stealing glances at you from under the twelve tasseled crown. He rewards your family with money, grain, rice, political power. If he lifts you up, he does the same with everyone important to you.

But Geto’s court is highly competitive. It’s certainly not easy to be his favorite. You can literally smell the stench of jealousy eminating from the other consorts. Their gaze pierces your skin deeply when the eunuchs drag you around the Palace of Heavenly Grace with a brocade blanket hugging your naked figure. They must endure the sight every other night and they have no idea that the son of heaven is ready to serve you and do as you please behind closed doors and not the other way around, as tradition dictates.

Though he can comfort you, outside of his chambers you fear for your life. You needed a food taster now and never dared to walk the gardens without at least four guards in your proximity. You begin to doubt the trust between you and those you’ve befriended, because they can only blame you for his negligence towards them.

And then, the first accusation about you begins circulating around the palace. Some concubines claimed that you were guilty of witchcraft. So many of them are against you, with so much made-up proof you cannot do more than spend the night crying, believing that at dawn, guards will come for you and throw you into a well. You have no idea where Geto is or how you could beg him for protection.

The next day, strangely, a new set of officials deem you innocent. What boggles you even more is that he comes to your residence instead of having you delivered to him. Even his scent is not like it usually is, there’s something metallic, salty, and musky mixed in with the incense smoke.

That night he cradles you, shushing you, promising to keep you safe at all costs. Keeping it a secret how brutally he disposed of the rumor mongers, how he had some of his officials whipped bloody for not believing your testimony or about the thinly veiled threats that he’ll make anyone’s life a living nightmare if anything happened to you. Your heart skips a beat and simultaneously sinks deep in your chest when those of higher rank than you lower their head, trying their best to not look at you as they pass you by. With dark marks staining the skin below the neckline of their gowns, not even the empress consort being an exception.

It's not easy to be his favorite. It’ll never be easy.

But he’s a god, the son of heaven, and heaven will forgive him and so will you.

[robedinredandwhite]

🦋 Butterflies Between Worlds

🦋 TGCF x MDZS Crossover Fanfiction

📖 Slow burn | Found family | Emotional depth | Crossover AU

Chapter 2: A Whisper Beneath the Moonlight

The moon hung low that night, a pale lantern suspended in the dark sea of stars, its glow casting silvery light over Puqi Shrine. The crickets had begun their gentle song again, a lullaby to lull the mountain to sleep. Inside the humble shrine, the scent of wood smoke and herbs lingered faintly in the air, the echo of a warm dinner shared between two immortals.

Xie Lian sat quietly on the steps of the shrine, his legs drawn up loosely as he gazed into the night. His hair was pulled into a loose tail, a few strands swaying in the breeze. He rested his chin on his knees, robes fluttering faintly in the wind. The quiet should have soothed him. He had always found peace in this place, especially with Hua Cheng nearby. But tonight, his heart stirred with something unfamiliar.

Behind him, soft footsteps padded onto the wooden floor. He didn't need to look to know who it was.

"Gege," came the familiar voice, low and tender. "You're still awake?"

Xie Lian smiled faintly. "Couldn’t sleep."

A pause. Then Hua Cheng sat beside him, close but not intruding. Their shoulders brushed, ever so slightly. The contact, though light, grounded Xie Lian instantly.

Hua Cheng followed his gaze to the horizon. “What are you thinking about?”

Xie Lian hesitated. Then, as if caught in the soft lull of the night, he whispered, “Just wondering... what it would be like.”

Hua Cheng tilted his head, his crimson eye catching the moonlight. “What what would be like?”

“To have a child,” Xie Lian said softly.

Hua Cheng blinked. There was no mockery or disbelief on his face. Only quiet attentiveness. “Do you want one, gege?”

“I don’t know.” Xie Lian laughed under his breath, a little awkward. “It’s not possible anyway. We’re both men. It's not like we can…" He waved a hand, then quickly dropped it into his lap. "Besides, I was just thinking. Don’t take it seriously.”

A beat passed. The wind picked up slightly, carrying with it the distant sound of a night bird’s cry.

“I see,” Hua Cheng murmured. “But… if it were possible, would you want one?”

Xie Lian turned his head slightly. The look in Hua Cheng’s eye was calm, unwavering, yet tinged with something almost… hopeful.

“I’m not sure,” he admitted. “I think I just like the idea of sharing something beautiful together. Someone to teach, to protect, to watch grow.”

Hua Cheng smiled. “You’d be a good father, gege.”

Xie Lian’s cheeks warmed. He laughed lightly and stood, brushing off his robes. “Enough of that. Are you hungry again? I have some sweet buns left.”

He turned to head inside, but paused when he saw Hua Cheng still seated, gaze unwavering. There was a softness in the way he looked at Xie Lian — not as a Supreme one or a Ghost King, but just a man. Just his gege.

“I’ll join you,” Hua Cheng said finally, rising with ease and following him.

—

The next few days passed peacefully.

It was the ordinary kind of peace Xie Lian had come to treasure: mending a broken roof tile, buying fresh vegetables from a passing merchant, watching a village child tug on Hua Cheng’s sleeve with admiration. He wasn’t expecting anything grand or world-changing.

But one morning, everything shifted.

It was just after dawn. The light filtered through the trees in shafts of gold, warming the courtyard with a gentle touch. Xie Lian had just stepped outside with a broom in hand when he stopped short.

There, at the edge of the shrine’s stone path, wrapped in a worn but clean blanket, lay a child.

A very small child.

Barely more than a baby.

He had soft black hair, wild and sticking up in tufts. His tiny hands gripped the edge of the cloth, his eyes closed peacefully as he slept.

Xie Lian froze. His breath caught.

He dropped the broom.

“Hua Cheng!” he called, voice tight.

In a flash, Hua Cheng appeared at his side, eye sharp, hand resting near his waist as if prepared to summon his scimitar. But he halted when he saw the bundle.

Xie Lian stepped forward hesitantly. Kneeling, he reached out with a trembling hand and pulled the edge of the blanket away.

The baby stirred, making a tiny sound — a small, grumbling whimper.

Xie Lian’s heart twisted.

Hua Cheng stood behind him, silent. Then, he crouched as well, his long fingers brushing the baby's forehead, as if checking for injuries.

“There’s no note,” he murmured.

“No curse marks either,” Xie Lian added, quickly scanning. “He’s… healthy.”

The baby yawned.

Then opened his eyes.

And stared right at Xie Lian with a vivid, curious, greyish gaze that seemed far too intelligent for a newborn.

In that moment, Xie Lian felt something shift deep in his chest.

“Gege,” Hua Cheng said quietly, his voice more solemn than before. “It seems someone has left him in our care.”

Xie Lian reached out with both arms and gently lifted the child into his embrace. The baby didn’t cry. He blinked, then nestled against Xie Lian’s robes like he’d belonged there all along.

The weight was light, but the feeling was heavy — full, overwhelming, unreal.

“Do you think…?” Xie Lian started, barely breathing the words.

Hua Cheng placed a steady hand on his back.

“If it’s what you want,” he said, “then we’ll raise him. Together.”

Xie Lian looked down again at the child in his arms — this mysterious, abandoned infant that fate had delivered to their doorstep only days after he had spoken of such a wish.

The child cooed softly, tiny fingers wrapping around one of Xie Lian’s.

He smiled.

And without realizing it, he whispered a name aloud: “Wei Ying.”

---

End of Chapter 2

---

[#butterflies between worlds] ⬅️ track this tag for updates

[rainboneish]

i lied, i can’t wait until the official release, so have an absolutely massive text dump about what i think about chapter 267 and what i think could happen from here considering the newest developments:

okay i’ve decided… i like the fact that nobara is back, and i do think that it doesn’t contradict anything that has been previously established (her survival was very deliberately left as a possibility in a decently believable way)

the way she went down (and what Nitta said about her status) was open ended enough, no complaints there (especially comparing her “departure” (to quote gege) to Nanami’s and Mahito’s line wondering if he could drop her with one hit since he couldn’t do that with Nanami if he wasn’t already on the verge of death, it’s more than a bit of a Checkov’s gun, which is why so many people were already theorizing that she would return the way she did)

i also think that Megumi and Yuji’s conversation about her being as ambiguous as it was is not outside of the realm of realism, since it was only a couple days after she went down (so around 2 months earlier than the point when she woke up) so if her status at that moment was “comatose on life support and very unlikely to wake up”, so almost the same status Yuji last saw her in (plus considering the time Tsumiki spent in a coma makes it more likely for Megumi to sort of struggle to state the fact out loud)

however…

while I understand that gege might have deliberately avoided mentioning her status so that she would surprise us the way she did Sukuna, i think that it would feel less like a deus ex machina if they had mentioned her at least one more time, either by having Yuji (or anyone) visit her sickbed during the month’s preparation for the showdown, or by having Gojo allude to SOMETHING at any point where Yuji wasn’t present (be it at the airport, while talking to Ijichi before the fight, the same way that Yuta said that he would put Inumaki to work set up the recorder scene)

it didn’t have to be anything that would necessarily confirm her status or a direct mention of her, it could have been an unlabeled hospital bed at some point or something equally vague

i just personally would have liked having another connecting dot for her return around the time when seeds for similar surprising events were planted to make it fit a tad better

anyway, all that said and done, now to the return itself: Loved it, the whole chapter was very well executed and the build up in the chapter itself was very good

it does feel a little out of character for the tone of the series itself (gege has a habit of not letting the good guys win anything without it feeling bittersweet or pulling the rug right from under them (and us) at the last second (the fight against the death paintings with Yuji’s grief after, Mahito being absorbed, Kenjaku starting the culling games just as Yuki’s appearance gave people hope, the whole Tsumiki twist just when we thought they were getting out, the way Gojo died just when they thought he won etc)

because of that i am SO SCARED RIGHT NOW (which i’m sure he did on purpose)… everything looks like we are lined up for 3 to live (if gojo stays dead, which i hope he does, as much as i love him, the guy’s last words are that he is happy he went out the way he did and that he hopes his afterlife vision is real, LET HIM REST, he wouldn’t want to survive in exchange for Yuji or Megumi’s death (also having another character come back from the “dead”, especially one that is properly established to be dead, at this point feels like it would cheapen the concept of death in the series))

now, if this is how it ends, and this chapter was officially announced as the climax of the battle in advance so that’s likely, especially with the condition sukuna was in at the end, you won’t catch me complaining (i’m not THAT kind of shonen fan, griping over on twt about how it’s bad writing if we get a happy ending, these kids have been through ENOUGH, let them have time to grow older together, they never even managed to get to first name basis)

however: we do have another 4 chapters left…

and that leaves us with the option that if gege decides to be evil (like he often is) we could dramatically go from having unexpectedly reached the final “3 live 1 dies “ configuration, giving us a sense of security, to a fear of reaching the dreaded “only one survivor” option

Now, I previously made a different too long post about why either of the boys being the lone survivor would both be equally good story telling for a bittersweet ending to this story (see here)

now, i’m going to exclude the option of Nobara dying because her coming back just to be killed a chapter or two later would be stupid (plus the only way i can see that happening is if Uraume suddenly shows up at the dam after having killed Hakari and taken a train which… yeah… ), so that would automatically make her the lone survivor (again, already talked about the reasons why either of they boys dying works, though i will say that her return would strengthen Megumi’s will to live)

Nobara is more independent as a character than either of the boys, as far as her motivations go. She is the one character (out of the three of them) who viewed being a sorcerer as a job (think about her asking Momo is her life is just a job during their fight), more than having it directly tied into her purpose in life, which is something a lot of the adult survivors have in common. She has people outside of jujutsu society that she would like to see again (to be blunt, she has other friends and family, unlike the other two, plus she didn’t go through the additional trauma that made the other two cling to each other even more)

while she would definitely grieve them immensely, she has the resilience to grow around that grief, if both Megumi and Yuji should somehow die with Sukuna.

Again, i don’t think this is the most likely outcome, especially considering that gege said that he hopes the ending will make people happy which dead main characters don’t tend to do, but i do think that this is definitely an option i can’t dismiss out of hand until Sukuna is officially dead

edit: another point in favour of the happy ending is of course, the whole "jjk is about breaking the cycle" theory, which is reinforced by the "cycling curse" line on the second to last page of this chapter

[kasarasun]

Five Eyes (Buddhist Concept) vs Six Eyes (JJK or smth)

I feel brave again, because sleep deprivation has stolen all of my sense.

(Note that Eye and Eyesight are used interchangeably, and that while some of the symptoms of the Six Eyes are known, the exact mechanisms are not.)

Is it strange to say that the Six Eyes may have been named after the Five Eyesights of the Buddha? No, because there are a lot of references to buddhism in JJK.

Are they similar? How are they similar? I know that the Five Eyes exist. What does each eyesight represent?

I use this source mainly and some others, though this is a tumblr post about jjk so I cannot bring myself to credit my sources properly, like something being percieved as too oily to eat: https://www.baus.org/en/publications/dr-shens-collections/the-five-eyes/

I'd like to say that although it's longer, it says what I'm trying to say much better, and worth reading.

Physical Eyes: The eyes of me and you, the fly on the wall, the bird outside the window, and so on and so forth.

Heavenly Eyes: The eyes of gods and goddesses, though obtainable by me and you. It's like using a microscope, or looking at pictures of nebulae, or watching the news about a country a ways away.

Wisdom Eyes: With the Physical and Heavenly eyes, the world may seem fully complete, unbearably physical, and the only real thing. The wisdom eye allows one to see that this is not the case: the world is incomplete, and this perceived world is impermanent, and not 'real'.

Dharma Eyes: The wisdom eyes may lead to an attachment to emptiness. The Dharma eye sees that all of these forms, both empty and existent, exist with equal validity due to their unique realms and modes of perception. At the same time, it's an all encompassing compassion.

Buddha Eyes: its hard to describe, and I honestly must say that I don't know enough to describe it. The eyesight of a buddha is something of a buddha. What can I say? I don't know quite enough to say anything.

and finally,

what of the Six Eyes? What does this extraneous mode of perception percieve?

It could be cursed energy, but would cursed energy fall into the realm of the heavenly Eyes, as does the perception of infrared and ultraviolet light? Why six instead of five in the first place?

To be honest, I don't think I know enough to answer this question, but I had fun trying to answer it. Maybe I can just say something silly, like 'Gege when I catch you Gege' and cope and seethe forever because a comparison of the existing five modes of perception and the 5+1 eyes would have much more value, in terms of investigating the connection between Buddhism and JJK.

It's 6am.