#i used to like meimei

[seiwas]

JJK top 5 GO!

NONIE 😮‍💨🏃‍♀️😥

g..o…j…o……….. (sigh)

nanami (i love me a dependable man 🤧 and his hands… god his hands …. 😭)

megumi (my baby 🥺 he was my first love !! even before that blindfolded sundae head 🤧 there’s just smth abt him !!! that’s so !!! devoted i think … and pretty)

yuuji (my golden boy oh my goodness !!! literally the kiri of jjk !!! my everything boy !!!! he must be protected !!!)

shoko / utahime (i love them both omg i cant choose ! i think both care deeply in diff ways 🥺 and i wish they had more screentime gRRRRRRR)

i also rlly like choso!!!! i love his character development omg and his tandem w yuuji sososoosmuch i think i am 🤏🏻 this close to being a choso fucker 😭 roma ( @kentoangel ) will probably convert me into one soon 🤧

what about you nonie?? who are ur faves?? 🤧

send me ur top 5 from any anime !! let’s talk abt them !! 🥺

[pekodayz]

18! ppp and 2 other ocs that r there too wow

[shadowthief78]

I think Gege should have given Yuki a baseball bat and Inumaki a knife

[blossoms-phan]

i ran a social experiment by logging into my old phannie ig account to see if i would get the tit ad there and did not expect the things i seent

[cutiefulism]

that boy is a monster !

cw. smut, wolf!caleb, bunny!reader, unprotected, p i v, brief headlock, knotting, pet names (honey, princess, pipsqueak) caleb is rough, both of them r freaky and crazy for each other, breeding sorta, use of gege n meimei, soft towards the end, uhh caleb cries idk

wc. 2.3k+

a/n. uh this was supposed to be longer but the old draft was js dragging on so here it is! a genius req by lovely anon, i hope i did ur req justice if not pls don't send me to the gulliotines 😓 ALSO yes ik this is ooc for him but also i kinda dgaf. any n all interactions is loved n appreciated!!

wolf!caleb who is nothing like your sweet puppy.

that caleb is kind and gentlemanly, holding you gently and slathering you in soft, adoring kisses and licks. that caleb kisses the very ground you walk on, wags his tail at every praise or gorgeous smile thrown his way, and begs to eat you off the bone.

he puts your pleasure first and foremost, always heeding your instructions when you tell him to slow down or speed up. he lets you come to him first, he lets you put the collar around his neck and tell him to be a “good boy” with red cheeks and bright eyes.

but this caleb, the one that’s pistoning into you from behind, thick bicep and forearm squeezing your head, does absolutely none of that.

“ungh, caleb, s-slow down—”

another protest from you, one he promptly shuts up with a rough snap of his hips and a flex of his arm. your breath catches in your tightening throat, and tears pool in your hazy eyes as your fingers scrabble at the sheets for purchase.

“you’d wanted this, remember?” caleb whispers in your ear, voice ragged and dangerously low. “goin’ on and on about how you wanted to see what changed and why i’m so different.”

admittedly, it was a little agitating.

not that he was irritated with you, per se, but more with your naivety. did you really, honest to god think that caleb was strictly submissive? that he’d always obey you, never think to unlatch the collar from ‘round his throat, never take off the rose-tinted sunglasses and realize that there is so much more?

you are no fool. surely you knew that your weak charade wouldn’t last for long, no?

you’ve been hiding his keys — tucking them into some niche, undiscovered cranny of his own fucking home. when you two go into public and there’s a group of women staring far too long at him, your bright mood sours, and you spend the rest of your vacation with him inside.

(you would hate to know the sort of looks he gets when he goes to the gym.)

you’ve even gotten to the point where you use facial recognition and scan his face while he’s sleeping to go through his phone. just to make sure there isn’t anyone willing to cut his leash and let him run free.

and, y’know, caleb has to applaud you. seriously. if he were any dumber, he might’ve kept those glasses on, might’ve let himself fall so far into you that there was just no way out.

as a matter of fact, he would have.

but he can’t keep you safe that way.

he has to be the one putting a collar around your delicate neck, keeping you within his own, hand-crafted sanctuary and never letting you leave, because you are far too kind.

if caleb ever expressed the want to be free, then you would let him. you would settle for being just friends with him, just being the colonel’s meimei.

and he couldn’t do that, not again. he’s already spent over two decades of his life just being your gege — now that he has you and that you have him, why would he ever allow you to let go?

no. no, he is yours, you are his, and that is something caleb will never, ever let change again.

this is how caleb has always been, underneath that docile facade.

it takes a manipulator to know a manipulator, as they say.

with every brutal thrust of his hips, his heavy balls slap against your puffy clit, drawing a broken whine from your throat and loosening the knot in your gut.

nothing about this should turn you on.

it’s disgusting and taboo and gross, letting caleb fuck you like a cheap, inflatable sex doll. he should be treating you with love and kindness, worshipping every inch of your body and murmuring sweet, reverent praises into your floppy bunny ears.

and he has. caleb has made love to you more times than you can even count — the quiet summer nights in the backyard on a red checker blanket or the early winter mornings where your sweet pussy has kept his cock warm all throughout the night.

you love those. you cherish those.

but you also like when he gets rough, when that sweet, prince charming mask slips just a bit, and his grip on you is a little too tight in public, or he’s staring at you a little too long when the both of you are supposed to be asleep, hands wandering dangerously close to your boy shorts.

that caleb gets your blood pumping, mind racing and pussy throbbing.

“maybe — s-shit — i was never different, pips. maybe i was always like this, always wanting to fuck ya dumb, and you just didn’t know.”

his hot, sweaty chest is pressed against your back, heart pounding in time with yours, and the delicious coolness of his necklace sends a shiver right up your spine.

your abused walls clench down on the veiny girth of his dick, and caleb groans, a loud sound that filters directly into your ear and makes your open mouth water even more.

drool trickles past your swollen lips and out the corners of your mouth, running down your chin and onto the bicep that’s tantalizingly close to cutting off your airflow.

he chuckles and cranes forward a little, enough to lick the spit and tears from one side of your face. “greedy lil’ thing. always bitin’ off more than you can chew, and then runnin’ to me to complain about it.”

it’s funny how some things never change. you used to do the same thing when the two of you were younger, too.

“caleb, can you finish my burger? i don’t want it.”

“caleb, go on the rollercoaster with me? please? it’s scary.”

“caleb, do you have some gold? i lost a bet . .”

caleb, caleb, caleb.

he will never grow tired of you saying his name, whether it be in the throes of pleasure or the depths of despair. if you can say his name, then you’re alive, you’re safe, and that’s all he can want from you.

that’s all he needs.

you, of course, want to protest. even when his bulbous tip is battering against your cervix, you want to defend your dignity. “i-i don’ . . i don’t do that, hah—!”

a pause, and his hips slow, just a little, big, fluffy ears drooping. “. . no?”

he’s moving before you can even manage a quip. caleb leans back, his arm deserting your face before his claws wrap around your ears, yanking them like reins while his other hand digs into the fat of your hip.

the most pathetic of squeaks falls out of that pretty mouth, and caleb grins — which, really, is more him bearing those pearly white canines than actually smiling.

you don’t get the chance to adjust to the stinging pain of him tugging on both your sensitive ears and your scalp before he’s slamming home again and scrambling your thoughts.

“what did i tell ya about lyin’, honey? your gege always knows the truth. ‘m n-not one of your friends you gotta pretend around,” he sneers, an odd mixture of ecstasy and disdain underlying his playful tone. “just be honest wimme and save us both the— o-oh fuck . . the time.”

your eyes hopelessly slide into the back of your skull, and his hold on your ears is the only reason you’re somewhat upright. your thighs tremble, legs practically noodles attached to your torso, and the need to cum again is almost reaching its limit.

you don’t even know how many orgasms it’s been, brain far too scrabbled and focused on caleb to worry about something so trivial. caleb has turned you every which fucking way but loose, making you cum on his clothed thigh, then his fingers, then his mouth, and, most recently, his cock.

a creamy ring of white encircles his swollen base, a beautiful testament to all the work he’s put into claiming your body, and he’s not going to stop until you’re nice and swollen with a pair of twins. or triplets.

bunnies are prone to having lots of kids, and caleb has no doubts about his fertility.

you’d be such a good mama. he knows it.

your hips wriggle back in a weak attempt to meet his, and he coos.

oh, his desperate girl, constantly wanting to milk him dry.

since you want more of his dick so bad, he guesses he has no choice but to indulge you. you just never learn.

caleb tightens his grip on your fluffy ears as his hips smack into the jiggling fat of your ass. there’s barely any pauses between them, a consistent ovation like your body is applauding him for fucking you so good, for treating you so right. “w-where’s that — ngh — smart fuckin’ mouth, princess? huh? haven’t shot a load down y-yer throat yet, so there’s no, mm, excuse why ya can’t talk.”

you swear you try to talk — the sentence forms in your hazy mind and everything — but all that comes out is a long moan, some sort of jumbled praise that has caleb snarling.

he tugs your ears, and more tears pour down your cheeks. “try again.”

“ow, mmngh!”

caleb tuts, and this time you’re prepared for the punishing tug. “third time’s the charm, honey.”

your throat works to swallow down all the saliva that’s pooled into your mouth, lubricating your dry throat. “cum— i w’na cum! ah, fuuckk, ‘m gonna cum, caleb, mmph—”

of course you are.

he’s noticed the trembling in your legs, the constant fluttering of your stretched hole around his shaft, how difficult it is for you to stop moaning long enough to get coherent words out.

and despite the haze in your mind, you know caleb is just as close. no amount of stoicism can hide the tightening of his breeder balls or the slight whine underneath the rugged gruffness in his voice. his pace is sloppy — he isn’t even punishing you by pulling out all the way anymore, just sharp, full thrusts that smooch your cervix and strike your g-spot every time.

“there w-we go, that’s what — ooh, shiiit — i wanna hear from my pretty girl. k-keep talkin’, and we can . . we can cum together, alright?”

he lets go of your ears just to wrangle you onto your back, pushing your knees up to your ears and making them pop. the new position has you feeling all thick, nine inches of your boyfriend’s (and future baby daddy’s) cock like it’s molded itself to your insides, all deep and snug in your tummy.

your hands slide up his arms so that your nails can dig into his back, leaving long, thin red lines like a personal brand. “y’re soo deep, o-oh my god—”

the praise does exactly what you expect it to do, and you hear his tail thump happily against the bed, brows drawing together in pleasure.

“cum with me, caleb. f-fill . . fill me up, breed me, ngh, do w-whatever—”

you don’t have to tell him twice.

it only takes a few more sloppy, frenzied thrusts from caleb to push you both over the edges, a scream of his name and a whimper of yours following after.

you’re squirting, juices spraying all over the sheets and his abs and that almost curly patch of dark hair right above his swelling knot.

it trickles down as caleb literally trembles with the force of his own orgasm, thick, goopy spurts endlessly filling up your empty womb and precious cunt. combined with the fact he’s impossibly deep inside of you, your stomach bulges, just a little, like it’s trying to tease him.

just as cheeky as ever, even unknowingly.

your worn-out body flops back against the soft mattress, and caleb slumps against you, thick arms wrapping around your smaller frame.

he holds you close, chest to chest, heart to heart, as he lathers you in those familiar licks and kisses, the ones that are full with unwavering infatuation and affection.

he knows he’s supposed to be the big bad wolf, but he can’t help but revert back. you deserve princess treatment, because that’s what you are: his princess. his honey, his pipsqueak, his everything.

you are what gets him up in the mornings. you are what guides him home after long, grueling expeditions. you are what he fights for, what he kills for, what he lives for.

you are his northern star, his evangeline.

tears blur his vision, and he tucks his face further into your neck, nuzzling against marked skin as his chest squeezes.

even post-orgasm and in the low, warm light of his bedroom, you can see caleb’s broad shoulders shaking. is he . .

“caleb?” you call, voice raspy but soft, filled to the brim with concern he sometimes thinks he doesn’t deserve. “are you okay? was that too much?”

he immediately shakes his head, and his fur tickles your skin. “i just . . fuck, you’re perfect.”

and caleb doesn’t think those words do you any justice. you’re so much more than perfect, so much more than the human language could ever be capable of describing that it gnaws at him to not be able to express it to you through words.

that’s what his body is for.

he sniffles and pulls back to look at you, big hands holding himself up off of you and glassy sunset eyes locked onto yours. “i . . i love you so much.”

he probably says it more than enough, but he’ll never grow tired of saying it either. finally being able to properly express his love for you through words, and not small actions that you seemingly didn’t ever pick up on is beyond freeing, like someone lifted a boulder off of his back.

you smile, gentle hands coming up to cup that flushed face, and your thumb brushes away the tears that have fallen free from his waterline. “i love you, too.”

til death do we part.

[prettyboykatsuki-moved]

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

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

♡ wc ; 23.3k (kill me)

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

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

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

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

extended authors note. | caleb playlist | ao3 | tipjar

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

__

At ten, you give up celebrating your birthday. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

They even decorate the house with balloons and streamers.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Open it,” 

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

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

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

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

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

Your dependable, kind older brother. 

__ 

At thirteen, you take your first field trip overnight. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

His voice softens instantly. “Somethin’ happen?” 

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

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

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

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

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

“Maybe I should just hang up on you,” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Wait, how did you—” 

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

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

 “Yeah. Okay. Night,” 

__ 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

(Maybe not at all.) 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It’s like something in you collapses. 

You give into it without any effort. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Ready to talk about it?” 

You fidget. “Aren’t you busy?” 

He shakes his. “I’m all yours.” 

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

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

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

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

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

“Nn,” You nod. “Yeah. I’m sorry.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

__ 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Caleb grins at you. “How lucky.”) 

__

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Shit, your head is throbbing. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

A text appears at the top of your screen. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

A woman this time. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Your stomach churns. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Where are you runnin’ off to?” 

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

“Let me go,” You mumble. 

He holds you a little tighter. 

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

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

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

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

“Take them off,” 

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

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

“My feet will get dirty from the pavement.” 

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

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

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

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

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

“It can wait a bit.”  

“Hmph.”

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

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

Caleb just greets them as normal.

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

“Are you feeling uncomfortable?” 

“No, but—”

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

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

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

“You don’t need to—” 

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

“Do they fit okay?”

“Mm,” 

You nod. Caleb hums. Holds his hand out. 

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

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

“Yeah. While we talk.” 

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

“Okay,” 

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

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

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

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

“I see. Let’s check out then, hm?” 

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

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

Of course, you do. 

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

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

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

You take it from him and drink. 

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

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

“You still haven’t asked me anything.” 

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

You nod.“You’re not upset?” 

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

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

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

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

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

“...Mm.” 

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

“Why’d you run off?” 

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

“...I dunno.” 

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

“Nothing happened but you—”

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

You bite your tongue. Caleb is lost in thought. 

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

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

“Then?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Will it make you feel better?” 

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

“Yeah,” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Wanna stay here. Just for a bit.” 

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

__

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Things have changed. Caleb has changed.

You have changed, most of all. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You wake up the next morning almost inconsolable. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It makes you feel like you live together again. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You’re home early.”

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

“So are you,”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah?” 

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

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

“How generous of you.” 

“Right?” 

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

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

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

You frown. “What kind of injury?” 

“It’s really fine,”

“Caleb.” 

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

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

“It’s not like that,” 

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

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

“Yeah.” 

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

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

“It’s different,” 

“Is not,” 

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

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

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

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

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

You elbow him. Caleb laughs. 

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

It’s like he reads your mind.

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

You purse your lips. “No shit.” 

“Don’t cuss,” 

“I’m twenty-two!” 

“So?” He raises his eyebrow. 

“You make me want to strangle you sometimes.” 

“If you succeed I’ll be impressed.”

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

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

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

“Do I smell bad?” 

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

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

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

He hums. “Just checking,” 

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

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

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

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

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

“You’re so interested in that,” 

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

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

“Yay!” 

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

“Go shower,” 

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

__

You watch your drama late into the evening. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You want me to help you look?” 

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

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

“You aren’t?” 

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

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

“You feel… fine.” 

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

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

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

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

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

“Hm?” 

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

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

“Does it matter if I am or I’m not?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“So are you… used to it?” 

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

“That’s…” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

You don’t give him a reply. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He laughs good naturedly. “Maybe I am.” 

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

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

“I didn’t mean to k-kiss you,” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Silence falls between you. 

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

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

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

“But that’s…” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Caleb, I’m too—” 

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

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

The realization makes you nervous. 

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

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

“This is embarrassing,” 

“You’ll live.”  Caleb hums. 

“I hate you,” 

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

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

You pout. “Sorry,” 

He laughs a little. “It’s okay,” 

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

“You taste like beer,” 

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

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

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

“Quit that,” You whine.

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

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

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

You look up at him. 

“What do you wanna do to me?” 

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

“Tell me. I want to know,” 

He laughs breathlessly. “That’s unfair,” 

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

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

“I won’t get scared,” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

You look at him for a long time quietly. 

“I dreamt of you.” 

“Hm?” 

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

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

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

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

His voice is hoarse. “Yeah?” 

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

“I already said sorry about that,” 

“I didn’t say I didn’t like it,” 

He swallows. “Oh,” 

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

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

“You’re squishing me, Caleb.” 

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

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

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

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

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

“More comfortable this way, right?” 

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

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

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

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

“Regretting it?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Can I kiss you?” 

“We’ve kissed before,” 

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

“I don’t have any experience,”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Mm?”

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

“Feels good,” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Better?” 

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

You nod. “I want it,” 

“Gonna lay you on your back, okay?” 

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

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

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

“That’s…” 

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

“Why would that scare me?” 

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

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

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

“Well that’s….” 

“Do I make you nervous?” 

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

“So what if you do?”

“It’d make me happy,” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Harder,” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I don’t at home,” 

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

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

“Take a guess,” 

“I just don’t get it,” 

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

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

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

“Stop staring,” 

“...I don’t know if I can.” 

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

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

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

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

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

“Caleb,” 

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

“‘Mm?” 

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

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

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

“Don’t—Caleb. Please,” 

“Did you want something?” 

Another groan leaves your lips as his smile remains unfaltering. 

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

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

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

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

“Stop holding back.”

He looks surprised. “I’m not—” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You see it in his eyes when something clicks. 

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

“Don’t regret it,” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Kiss?” 

“Even after all that?” 

You nod sheepishly. 

“Jeez. How cute can someone be?” 

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

“Open your mouth,” 

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

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

Your face feels hot. “...Maybe,” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“This what you wanted?” 

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

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

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

“Want it inside right now,” 

His breath hitches immediately. “Yeah?” 

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

“Please,” 

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

“You’re gonna kill me,” 

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

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

“Caleb,” You whine and he laughs sympathetically. 

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

You melt. How embarrassing.”...Fine,” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You find out fast that you can’t. 

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

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

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

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

“A little more. Hang in there, okay?” 

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

“Enough,” You whisper hoarsely. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Might not last,” He says hoarsely

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

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

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

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

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

“Gonna c-cum,” 

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

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

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

“I-s it all in?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Caleb—” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Tell me it’s okay to fuck you hard,” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Cum in me,” 

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

Pure euphoria floods your entire nervous system as Caleb bottoms out one last time. His cum fills your pussy in thick, long spurts. It feels hot as it takes, makes you shiver with how it feels. Disappointed at the idea it’ll flood back out. 

Caleb, still balls deep - continues suddenly. Where you think he’s gonna pull out, he doesn’t. Instead he fucks you again, this time more clear-headed as he rubs your clit - a hand between your bodies. His voice is shot. 

“Sorry. Don’t wanna be selfish. One more nice and easy, then we’ll clean up?” 

You have no room to protest. After all, Caleb is nothing but relentless when  it comes to spoiling you. You let him fuck another orgasm out of you until you’ve got nothing left to give. 

He collapses on top of you after your pussy milks what's left of him

You kiss when he does, sweaty and tired. You look at his blissed out face and kiss his nose with affection. 

“I love you too, Gege.” 

He pauses then laughs. Brightly. Hopelessly. 

“You’re gonna be the death of me,” 

__ 

You aren’t sure when exactly you pass out. 

You remember lingering with Caleb in his bed before limping into the bathroom. And a bath too, if your memory serves you right. You must’ve fallen asleep in the tub with Caleb, the broad warmth of his chest lulling you right to sleep. You’ve got good endurance from being a hunter, but you’re tuckered out just thinking about earlier. 

Also a little embarrassed. 

You wake on the couch of the living room. Cleaned, changed, and tucked into with a blanket over you. There’s a scent and the quiet sizzle of a pan. Your limbs feel heavy as you pick your head up. It’s still dark out but it seems like morning. 

You rub your eyes as you swing your legs over and place them on the floor.

Standing to your feet, you find slippers at the end of the couch and feel your heart swell ten sizes. You put them on before padding into the kitchen. 

Caleb is at the stove like you thought he’d be. You flush seeing his back covered in scratches and a bite or two - none you remember leaving. You know your body is in the same state if not worse.

You walk up to him and wrap your arms around his middle, pressing your face against his broad back. Your voice is small, embarrassed. Everything feels brand-new. 

“G’morning,” 

Caleb turns the heat down and puts the spatula on the counter top, turning to face you. He looks down at you with a boyish grin. Unfairly handsome, making you pout. 

“Morning, sleepyhead. Feel okay?” 

You tuck your face into his chest and nod. “Just a little tired. I don’t hurt or anything.” 

“That’s good, then,” 

You make a little mm sound and stay there for a while. Caleb is content to hug you until you pull away. 

“Caleb?” 

“Hm?” 

Your face feels warm. “...Kiss?” 

He stops, then beams. Dips his head down to catch your lips in a kiss that feels romantic and practiced, but doesn’t make you feel strange in a bad way. You’ve never had a boyfriend, not a real one. Does everyone feel butterflies like this? 

Maybe there’s something wrong with you. He pulls away and presses a kiss to the corner of your mouth. 

“You’re less moody than you usually are when you wake up,” Caleb teases. “Good to know. An effective way to deal with your attitude is always welcome.” 

You frown at him, feeling furious for more reason than embarrassment. It’s really unfair how flirtatious he is. “Shut up,” 

Subconsciously, your hands are fisted as you cling to Caleb’s chest. With no shirt to hold onto you, your muscle memory finds it the most steady. They’re clenched hard from embarrassment and a flood of other feelings you need soothed. 

Caleb grabs your hand and unfurls them for you. Strong, warm, big hands grasp yours in their palm and open them both softly - fingers interlocking until you’re no longer so tense. Just melted away. 

“I’m right here,” He says. A wave of emotions passes over you. 

You hold his hand and squeeze it. Once, twice - it has a steadiness the grip of fabric doesn’t. 

You smile to yourself. Helplessly happy. Overwhelmed with pure, unrelenting love. 

“Yeah,” You say, more to yourself than anyone else. “You are,” 

[cherryredstarz]

Hush Meimei

A/n: Caleb’s a dirty perve. ☺️

Cw: NSFW, psuedocest?, use of pet names, breeding kink of you squint

Caleb, bending you over your childhood bed, his hands sliding under the soft fabric of your little pink night dress. You were visiting Grandma Josefine for Christmas—and your dear grandmother was asleep down the hall.

You’re struggling to stay quiet as Caleb’s large, warm hands grope at the plush of your tits, his thumbs rubbing around your pert nipples. You can feel a very prominent bulge against the curve of your ass, and it makes you flush. “Caleb!” You whisper-shout. Your nails dug into the mattress, and in the back of your mind, you were worried about ruining the manicure you’d paid for just days before.

“Hush, pipsqueak. Don’t want to wake Grandma up, do you?” Caleb rasps into your ear. One of his hands travel down your body and stops at your hip, pulling at the straps of your panties as he kisses and nips your neck.

“Don’t ruin my panties again, Caleb!” You mewl. You were beginning to regret wearing your good pair—the pale pink one with a white floral pattern and lace.

“I’ll just buy you another set.” He whispers. You squeak softly as you feel your panties being brought down to your ankles, and hear the distinct rustle of thick fabric, likely Caleb pulling down his sweatpants,

You gasp as your pussy is exposed to the cool night air, and whimper when you feel the swollen tip of his cock notch between your pussy lips. Caleb’s dick is disgustingly large. There is absolutely no way your grandma won’t notice you walking funny in the morning.

“So wet for me, pretty girl.” Caleb nips your earlobe as he lazily rocks his hips, watching as his dick rubs back and forth between your thighs, against your clit. You bite back a moan, and receive a light snack on your ass. “Let it out, pipsqueak. Right into your pillow if you gotta’.”

Feeling one finger enter you, you moan into the pillow, your thighs clenching around his hand as he adds a second and a third finger, pumping in and out of your tight hole. It feels so good.

You let out a frustrated cry when he removes his fingers, sticking his fingers into your mouth. as he thrusts his cock into you. You go crosseyed, tongue mindlessly sliding around his fingers at the taste of your juices.

“So tight..” Caleb moaned, biting your neck and leaving another hickey. He gives you a brief moment to relax and adjust before pounding into you. Your bed frame creaks with each thrust of his hips, tapping against the wall. You pray your grandmother took her hearing aid out before going to bed.

Caleb’s cock just rubs your gummy walls so well—the friction is delicious. His tip repeatedly kisses your cervix and your g-spot. Heat pools in your belly. The sounds you both are making is lewd. Wet slapping has filled your childhood bedroom, and you’ve already squirt on Caleb’s pelvis twice. “So damn wet baby..” Caleb moans into the soft skin of your neck. The bedsheets beneath you both are already soaked with fluid and cum.

Caleb covers your mouth as your moans get louder; you can feel your orgasm rapidly approaching. “So good, huh, baby? You like it when I wreck this tiny hole?” He tilts your head back, nipping at your cheek—he expects a response. You desperately nod, incredibly close to seeing stars.

“M’ gonna fill this pussy up. It’s mine, huh? Gonna breed her. She’s gonna look so cute filled up. Bet she wants a baby, no?” You know Caleb’s about to bust by the way he’s rambling, but you’re sure he’ll keep his promise.

You nearly scream into your pillow when your orgasm rushes over you, your cunt spasming around his dick. Caleb moans as hot cum spurts from his cock, filling your pussy to the brim. His hips keep jerking as you both ride out your highs.

By the time you come too, Caleb flips you over onto your back, and pulls your thighs over his shoulders. Your dazed expression amused him.

“What? You think we’re done already?”

It’s gonna be a long night.

[shouyuus]

hello rain!!! no pressure but i was wondering if you happen to have any thoughts about caleb being younger than us? <3

FUCK IT. we bAWL -- 18+, mdni, slight age gap, rough-ish sex pls note that in chinese gege/jiejie/didi/meimei are often also used in romantic connotations and do not denote incest!

younger!caleb who gets huffy whenever you call him "kid" or "kiddo", and even after you see him again, even after he's become colonel, the fact that you still see him as little boy from your past irks him. because how is it after all these years, after everything he's done to climb the ranks and prove himself to you, that you still see him as... the same little kid that used to follow you around like a lost puppy?

younger!caleb who's not afraid to get whiney, to call you jie jie... and drag it out, because he knows that you've never been able to deny him. and sure, he's got like a solid foot on you now, but he can't help the tug in his chest or behind his navel whenever you smile up at him, reach up to pat his cheek and tell him that he's doing a good job. he wants to nuzzle into your palm like he used to, fish for more praise, like he used to.

younger!caleb who has zero compunction with cornering you up against the wall, pinning your hands to the sides of your head, bearing down over you, and when you ask "c-caleb -- what're you doing?" whispering "c'mon, jiejie, you're a smart girl.. you tell me what i'm doing... can't you tell? after all this time? how much i've wanted you?"

younger!caleb who still whimpers when he kisses you for the first time, because god, he's dreamt about it for so long, imagined it so many different ways. he's pictured it in a million different scenarios, but the real thing trumps all of that, outdoes it by miles and miles and miles. he thinks he can kiss you forever, wouldn't mind never taking a single breath again if it meant being able to kiss you like this.

younger!caleb who teases you, when you're finally together, pulls you into his lap and asks "jiejie... don't be shy -- tell me, have you thought about this too?"

younger!caleb who coaxes you into his bed, so gentle with you till he's got you pinned, right where he's always wanted you (and he has always wanted you) -- and then, you see the switch flip, the darkness flicker across his eyes as his grip tightens, and suddenly, all your limbs feel just a bit heavier than before, your breath coming in short, abortive gasps. you keen against the pressure of his thigh slotted between yours, and he watches you with hooded eyes.

"gods... you're so beautiful like this... even better than i imagined..."

somewhere in the haze of want and half-caught memories, you try to push back against him. he only grins, a sadistic slash of his lips, an expression you barely recognize.

younger!caleb who is just a bit rougher than he'd like to be, but he can't really control himself, not when he's dreamed about it for so long -- his fingers digging into your hips, your body rocking with every single one of his thrusts. and you're perfect, so fucking wet and tight for him, the way you whine over his cock as he'd bullied it into you the first time, the way you bit your lips, your gaze almost reproachful as he rubs a thumb along your cheek the way you used to with him, wiping away a smudge of dirt, soothing some other unseen hurt.

"fuck -- jiejie -- you feel so good --"

"c-caleb -- mm -- n-not so hard --"

"ah... sorry, am i hurting you? i -- i didn't mean to but..." he groans, burying his face in the crook of your neck, rocking his hips into yours, tugging your thighs to hike them higher around his waist, "c-can't really help myself -- not when you're sucking me in like you want more --"

younger!caleb who wipes you down after with a hot towel, is so attentive, and just a tad bashful, clearing his throat as he helps you tug your panties back on.

"i... i got a little carried away -- i didn't actually hurt you... did i?"

you rub at your wrists, peering up at him before letting out a soft laugh.

"no, you didn't but... then again, you were always misjudging your strength, even when we were kids."

he chuckles, dropping onto the bed next to you, knocking his shoulder against yours.

"yeah... there was that one time we were play-fighting and i shoved you way too hard --"

"-- and that time you were trying to push me on the swings and ended up almost launching me into space --"

caleb groans, dropping his face into his hands.

"i thought granny was gonna murder me -- thank god you only sprained your wrist."

you laugh, nodding, lost to the tide of memories rushing in. you cast him a sidelong glance.

"caleb?"

"hm?"

"have you... i mean -- all these years... are you still..." you trail off, uncertain of how to ask him the thing you really want to know.

younger!caleb who knows implicitly what you want to ask, who smiles, leaning in to cup your cheek and press his forehead to yours.

"am i still the caleb you knew from all those years ago?" he asks, his voice low. you suck in a breath, holding it still in your chest as he sighs.

"no... i'm not. but..." he pulls back ever so slightly, his eyes a star-shattered sea, "if that's what it takes to make you stay with me this time then... i'll be whatever you want me to be."

you hiccup, watching as his expression changes. a flutter of something settles in the base of your stomach -- be it fear or trepidation or just the gnawing feeling of uncertainty.

you shake your head, pushing the feeling aside.

"i just want you to be... you, caleb. that's all i've ever wanted from you."

he's quiet for a long moment. and then --

"only if you promise... you won't love me any less."

the flutter in your stomach builds into something a bit more ominous -- bigger and darker and all-consuming. there's a hollowness in his eyes that you think has always been there, but you've just been too naive to recognize.

greed, or maybe hunger.

you don't know how to answer him.

you just tug him down, and kiss him instead.

[deikshen]

Shen Yuan concept without being a NEET just because my sister and I thought of this and lol we had a good time

So Shen Yuan is this rich kid and all, but he actually has this hobby that started taking up 80% of his free time: designing clothes. He started out as a cosmaker, can you blame him? Cosplays are so poor quality these days. And Shen Yuan is used to good quality clothes even if they are just simple t-shirts. So when he started realizing how pathetically expensive some cosplays were compared to their quality, he just... Well, he had to design his own!

Little by little, he evolved. And one day his wealthy family found him this job designing clothes for xianxia dramas, and Shen Yuan, a little delirious, accepted. It's okay! He designed a lot of sketches inspired by arts, historical research here and there, things that also looked nice and realistic. Shen Yuan enjoys his job almost as much as he enjoys criticizing each new PIDW chapter. How is it possible that they've been thirty chapters into that subplot and there have been more papapa scenes than a resolution?! Outrageous!

Shen Yuan designs a lot. He still works as a cosmaker, as he really enjoys doing embroidery. It's a time-consuming job, but he gets paid well and his cosplays are the best in the entire community. His family is happy that he has left his lonely life and has this job and this new business experience, they congratulate him on his new achievements, they urge him to enroll in some university fashion or clothing design.

Shen Yuan dismisses it. He misses his life as a NEET a little, but in reality on his days off he just plays around and does nothing, which is the same thing he does on his work days, except he embroiders and sews or draw on those work days. Days so busy, they are not.

So Airplane ends PIDW like absolute shit, Shen Yuan drowns and dies.

And he opens his eyes. Well, what the hell. It doesn't take long for him to discover that he transmigrated into an NPC. Tailored, apparently, because he's an no-name NPC apprentice to a spider demon seamstress!

He has a lot of knowledge about all of this, so it doesn't take him long to put it into practice. His teacher congratulates him and he makes a lot of sales. Soon, he gains a very good reputation. Maidens from other kingdoms come to Shen Yuan to design clothes for them for festivals, for dances, for family celebrations. Shen Yuan designs, sews, embroiders. It's not far from his old life, although he misses Project Sekai and caffeine a little.

He opens his own workshop almost a year later, with the goodwill of his demon teacher. She warns him of something: Shen Yuan is a thread woven to another soul. And soon, his soulmate will come for him.

Shen Yuan is a little nervous, but, oh well! A soulmate! If only!

He knows, for a fact, that that's impossible. They're in the disgusting world of PIDW, and at least half of the dresses he's made have been for Binghe's future wives. Some would even be torn apart without any care! What a waste of his time and effort!

He doesn't think about it too much. Shen Yuan just focuses on his work. He designs, sews, embroiders. He sleeps little but enjoys the smile on the faces of the Meimei's when they hug the pretty fabrics. It is, despite everything, a good life.

Then, Emperor Luo Binghe arrives at his door.

In person. Not with servants, not with a letter, not with an invitation. It is Emperor Luo Binghe who arrives at his door.

Of course Shen Yuan is going to make robes for the emperor! There's no need for him to ask or offer to pay for them! He's nervous and a little scared, but Luo Binghe is... well, he doesn't seem to have no kind of threatening aura or any kind of charm. He asks him for the designs of some robes and stays there while Shen Yuan makes the first sketches. Luo Binghe gives more directions, more corrections... And Shen Yuan discovers that Luo Binghe is requesting Qing Jing robes from him, if the fanarts are accurate. He tears off that sheet of paper, starts another sketch with Qing Jing's exact robes without uttering any words, leaving Luo Binghe speechless as well. Luo Binghe nods, correcting details of length and shape, not even asking or saying anything about designs of cultivators clothing, and Shen Yuan has to move on to the... er, awkward part. He has to almost strip Luo Binghe to take his measurements!

Ignore that part. His face is very red when he finishes, but he has the exact measurements of his back, his arms, the size of his fit, his length and width, everything necessary to work with the first molds.

Shen Yuan has no idea why Emperor Luo Binghe wants Qing Jing's robes. He won't ask either, he values his tongue very much. So, he just decides to continue his work like a good professional, embroidering every detail to perfection (he has done two Ning Yingying cosplays in the past, so, it was easy to him remember the embroidered patterns).

Maybe he makes it too perfect.

Luo Binghe is looming over him, his new robes on display, eyes red with fury, zuiyin shining on his forehead.

"Cang Qiong has been burned for more than two hundred years. How can a weak mortal like you recreate these patterns so perfectly?"

Shen Yuan has three options, honestly.

a) Tell him he's a transmigrator. He doesn't have any fucking System, and maybe telling him he's from another world will save him from his imminent death... But he highly doubts Luo Binghe will believe him.

b) Telling him that he's a reborn soul! That he may have worked for the sect in the past! It's not a bad idea, and it's actually quite common, isn't it? Some souls are reborn with some memories, huh, not bad...

c) Not saying anything and playing dumb.

Shen Yuan chooses to play dumb, only because he doesn't have enough brain cells and is so panicked that he can play the reborn.

"I don't know what Junshang is telling me! I just followed the directions and patterns in the design given by Jungshang!"

Luo Binghe does not strangle him. Makes things worse.

Luo Binghe carries him over his shoulder and carries him away. This is kidnapping?! Shen Yuan is being kidnapped from his own shop in broad daylight!? And obviously no one is going to stop him!!

And so, Luo Binghe simply puts him in a room somewhere in the palace, gives him some papers and many tools so he can draw and tells him to design something that he like. And he leaves.

... That is, a kind of test? Is Luo Binghe testing him in some way? Ah, he hopes his customers will be understanding. He's sorry for the delay in their dresses, but Emperor Luo Binghe has kidnapped this seamstress, but he hope to get back to business soon!!

(Luo Binghe is having the closest thing to astral travel. Why does that boy who looks like a young and sweet version of Shen Qingqiu know the patterns of Qing Jing so well? Is he his own "kind" Shen Qingqiu in this world? So why does he act like this and not like a haughty teacher? What should he do?

At least he brought him to his palace. He's not sure if he's the person he's looking for, but, well... he's not really going to let him out of his sight. Just in case.)

[rafayelxsylusho]

The first time he heard you 🫲🏻 yourself...part 2

Finally done with this one!!

TW: SMUT

and also Caleb calls us meimei a couple of times

Enjoy!!!

"Did you call for me pipsqueak? Did you moan my name because you needed me?"

Your heart races as you tug your hands away from your sensitive flesh, a rush of embarrassment and shock coursing through you.

You can't help but let your gaze rake over Caleb's form, tall and imposing. His eyes are dark, almost black in the dim light of the room, and you feel pinned in place by his intense stare. Your heart hammers wildly in your chest as you sit up, the sheets rustling loudly in the sudden silence.

"Caleb," you breathe out, voice trembling slightly as you try to gather your thoughts. "I... I didn't know you were awake. I thought..." You swallow hard, realizing there's no way to explain what he just saw. What you were doing.

Embarrassment colors your cheeks a deep, telling red as you quickly tug his shirt down, trying to cover more of your bare legs. Your hair is messy around your face, a clear indication of your recent activities. You feel the lingering heat between your thighs, the dampness that coats them, and pray that Caleb can't somehow sense it, that he can't guess at the filthy thoughts that were running through your head just moments before.

You feel your heart leap into your throat as he approaches you, dominating the space around the bed. His eyes, dark and intense, never leave yours as he closes the distance between you. You can't look away, trapped by the force of his gaze.

His large hand reaches out, fingers brushing against the fabric of the shirt you're wearing. The shirt that was once his. The one you "borrowed" without asking, loving the way it smells like him. Like home.

"Pipsqueak," he murmurs, his voice is low and rough, sending shivers down your spine. "You moaned my name." It's not a question, but a statement. A realization. His fingers curl into the fabric of the shirt, fisting it slightly.

"And I heard you," he continues,he is so close you can feel the heat radiating off his body. His other hand comes up, cupping your chin, tilting your face up to look at him. "I heard you moan my name, princess."

His thumb brushes over your lower lip, a gesture that's almost tender. Almost loving. But there's something else beneath it. Tension. Hunger.

"No wonder I couldn't find this shirt," he says, giving the fabric a slight tug. "It was here all along. With you." His eyes bore into yours, searching. Seeing. Knowing. "Were you thinking of me, pipsqueak? Is that why you were touching yourself? Imagining it was my hands on you instead of your own?" His voice drops to a whisper. "Making you come undone?"

You try to speak, to form words, but your throat feels tight, your mouth dry. Caleb's proximity, his eyes looking at you, has rendered you speechless. Your heart pounds wildly in your chest, echoing loudly in your ears as you stare up at him, eyes wide. He's so close now. Too close. Close enough that you can feel his breath on your face, smell the faint scent of his cologne mixed with something uniquely him. It's intoxicating. Overwhelming. Your head spins slightly as you try to process his words, the implication behind them.

His hand on your chin, his fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt that you're wearing, it's all too much. Too intense. Too...everything. Your body feels hot, your skin tingling where he touches you, where he's not touching you. You're aware of every inch of you.

You swallow hard, trying to find your voice. Trying to deny his accusation. But the words won't come out. Because deep down, he's right. In your mind, it was him. His hands, his touch, his body. You were imagining it was him bringing you to the brink of ecstasy, his name on your lips.

Your tongue darts out, wetting your dry lips, and you see his eyes follow the movement. Your breath hitches, chest rising and falling rapidly as you struggle to maintain some control. But it's a losing battle. You're losing yourself in his dark eyes, drowning in the intensity of the moment. All you can manage is a breathless whisper, a single word that hangs heavy in the air between you. "Caleb..." It's a plea. A question. A prayer. You don't know what you're asking for. But you know you need it. Need him.

Caleb leans in even closer, his nose brushing against your hair, inhaling deeply. He breathes in your scent, his lips curling into a smile against your temple. "You smell like my shirt. Like you've been wearing it all day, maybe hoping I wouldn't notice." His hand slides from your chin, fingers trailing down the side of your neck. Your pulse jumps beneath his touch and he feels it, of course he does. Nothing escapes Caleb's notice.

"What were you thinking about?" he murmurs, his voice low against your ear "When you had your fingers buried deep inside your little cunt." His other hand moves from the shirt, his palm pressing flat against your stomach, fingers splaying possessively over your belly. "Tell me what had you so worked up, princess. What dirty thoughts were running through this pretty little head of yours?"

His lips press against your neck, just below your ear, and he nips lightly at the sensitive skin. Not hard enough to break the skin, but enough to make your body jolt with pleasure and pain. You can't hold back the moan that escapes your lips as his teeth graze your neck, your body arching into his touch involuntarily. "Caleb," you whimper, his name falling from your lips like a prayer. But before the sound can fully register, he's hushing you, his finger pressing against your lips.

"Shh, keep your voice down," he warns, his own voice a low rasp. "Grandma's sleeping right next door. Wouldn't want to wake her." Despite his words, there's a glint of dark amusement in his eyes, as if the idea of being caught together like this appeals to some primal part of him. His hand on your belly moves to your inner thigh. He can feel the heat radiating off your skin, growing more intense with each inch he covers. As his fingers reach the apex of your thighs, he pauses, brows furrowing as he encounters an unusual texture. He glances down, noticing the damp spot that has formed on the sheets and shirt beneath you, a clear indication of your arousal. His eyes widen slightly, understanding dawning on face. He looks back up at you. "Pipsqueak," he murmurs "You're not wearing anything under my shirt, are you?" His fingers press lightly against the drenched fabric of the shirt.

"You're fucking drenched," he says, "Were you this wet just from thinking about me? From touching yourself to the thought of being with me? Fuck," he groans, his own arousal growing, straining against the confines of his pajamas. "If this is what you're like from just touching yourself, I can only imagine how soaked you'd be if it was really my cock buried inside of you"

You squirm beneath his touch, feeling the heat of his hand so close to your aching pussy. Deep down, you know this is wrong. Dangerous. "Caleb, we... we shouldn't be doing this," you manage to say, your voice barely above a whisper. "It's not right, not with Grandma right next door..." Your words trail off, lacking conviction even to your own ears. You want to push his hand away, to put an end to his sinful, tempting touch. But your body remains still, frozen in place, trapped between the need for him and the knowledge that this is a line that can never be crossed.

Caleb ignores your protest, too consumed by your body's response, the damp patch on the shirt growing with each passing second. His thumb finds your nipple, touching the stiff peak through the thin fabric of his shirt. He circles it slowly, teasingly, feeling it harden even more under his touch.

"Shouldn't be doing this?" he whispers, a smirk playing on his lips as he watches your face, taking in every expression, every hitch in your breath. "But your body's telling a different story, pipsqueak."

His hand leaves the heat between your legs, trailing up, slipping underneath the shirt to cup the soft weight of your other breast. He squeezes gently, kneading the supple flesh.

"Look at how hard they are for me," he whispers, his voice a low rumble against your ear. "Look at how much your body wants to be touched by me. Tell me to stop then," he challenges, his eyes dark and intense. "Tell me you don't want this. That you don't want me."

As Caleb pinches the nipple, he is touching under your shirt, between his thumb and forefinger, a jolt of pleasure shoots straight through your core. Your legs part instinctively, knees falling open to expose your dripping sex to the cool air of the room. At the same time, your back arches, pressing your chest further into his touch, silently begging for more. He takes advantage of your body's display, bending his head to capture the stiff peak of your nipple between his teeth. Even through the thin, damp fabric of his shirt, you can feel the heat of his mouth, the way his tongue swirls around the sensitive bud. He suckles hard, the wet patch on the shirt growing as your nipple hardens even further from the intense stimulation. "Fuck, the way you respond to me," Caleb groans around your nipple, his words muffled but still clear. "Like your body was made for my touch. Made to be claimed by me." Your fingers tangle in Caleb's hair, tugging him closer as he lazes his tongue over the sensitive peak of your nipple. A needy whimper escapes your lips, your chest heaving with each ragged breath. Your thighs tremble, legs falling open even wider, inviting, offering yourself up to him.

Caleb's hand touching you under your shirt moves down and hovers, once again, dangerously close to your dripping sex. He teases you, not quite touching, his touch maddeningly close but not close enough.

"Tell me what you need, pipsqueak," he murmurs, his breath hot against your nipple, his words vibrating through your core. "Tell me to touch this pretty little pussy. Beg me to make you come all over my fingers."

"Caleb...please"

He bites your nipple softly, your fingers tighten in his hair, your body trembling with need beneath him. "Please what?" he murmurs, his voice a low, teasing rumble. "I need you to say it. To tell me exactly what you want." Your hips twitch, trying to close the minimal distance, to grind your aching cunt against his hand, but Caleb pulls back slightly, denying you the contact you crave.

"Tell me to touch this desperate, dripping cunt," he demands, his tone leaving no room for misunderstanding. "Tell me how badly you need my fingers inside you, filling you, fucking you until you scream my name."

His thumb brushes maddeningly close to your clit, making your body jerk and your breath hitch.

."Please, Caleb, please touch me," you whimper, your voice breaking with desperation "Please I need you inside me" Your hips buck upwards, trying again to close the remaining distance between his teasing fingers and your soaked, aching sex. "Please, I can't take the teasing anymore. I'm so fucking wet for you, Caleb. I'm dripping all over your shirt. I need you to touch me." You look up at him with hooded, lust filled eyes, your cheeks flushed a deep, needy red. "Please, Caleb," you breathe out.

Before Caleb can act on your desperate pleas, you suddenly yank the shirt over your head in a desperate motion. Your naked breasts bounce free, the cool air of the room pebbling your hardened nipples. Caleb takes in the sight of your bare flesh, his gaze raking over every inch of exposed skin.

"Fuck, look at you," he growls "Desperate to be touched, to be claimed. Desperate to have my hands all over your body."

He leans down, taking one nipple into his mouth once more, but this time, there's nothing between his lips and your skin. He suckles hard, his tongue swirling around the sensitive bud and at the same time, his hand moves, finally closing the distance between his fingers and your dripping sex. He cups your pussy, feeling the heat radiating from your folds. A low groan rumbles in his chest as he feels how wet you are, your arousal coating his fingers, making them glisten in the low light.

"God, you're fucking soaked," he murmurs against your breast, his fingers teasing along your slit, not penetrating, but close enough that you can feel the promise of what's to come. "Is this all for me? Are you this desperate for my cock every time you touch yourself, imagining it's me fucking this tight little cunt?"

"Yes, it's for you, it's always for you" you moan, spreading your legs wider.

Without warning, he plunges two fingers deep into you. Your walls flutter and squeeze around the sudden intrusion, trying to draw him in deeper. Caleb groans against your breast, the vibrations rumbling through your chest as he starts to pump his fingers in and out of your needy sex.

"Fuck, you're so goddamn tight," Caleb grunts, feeling your walls clench and ripple around his plunging fingers. "I can barely get two fingers inside your pretty cunt."

He starts to thrust faster, his fingers curling to rub against that sensitive spot deep inside you with each pass, his mouth moves from your breast, trailing open mouthed kisses across your collarbone. His tongue, hot and slick, drags up the column of your throat until he reaches the sensitive skin behind your ear. And then Caleb's thumb finds your clit, circling the swollen nub with ruthless precision. The combination of sensations, his fingers pumping into your dripping pussy, his tongue laving your neck, his thumb teasing your clit, has your hips bucking up to meet his touch.

"Caleb," you whimper, your fingers tangling in his hair, holding him close as you grind yourself against his hand. "Oh god, Caleb..." He leans in close, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispers, "Keep your voice down, beautiful."

He pulls his fingers out from your dripping sex, leaving you whimpering at the sudden emptiness. Before you can protest at the loss, he's settling his broad shoulders between your thighs, his mouth mere inches from your core.

Your body tenses, anticipation and nerves coursing through you as you feel his hot breath ghosting over your sensitive flesh. You bite your lip hard, trying to stifle the needy whine building in your throat. He looks up at you, his dark eyes glinting with mischief and a dark promise. "I'm going to make you scream my name, I'm going to make this pretty little pussy come so hard, you'll forget your own name. The only name you'll remember is mine."

With that, he leans in, his tongue parting your folds in one long, slow lick. A moan tears from his throat at the first taste of your arousal, the sound vibrating against your flesh. Your back arches off the bed, your hands fisting in the sheets as pleasure crashes over you.

"Oh fuck, Caleb," you whimper, your voice barely above a whisper. Your thighs tremble, the muscles quivering with the effort of staying still, of not closing around his head and grinding your sex against his face. Caleb plunges his fingers deep inside you once more. He curls them just right, rubbing against that sensitive spot that makes your toes curl and your eyes roll back in ecstasy. His tongue, hot and slick, laps at your clit, circling and flicking over the swollen nub in a rhythm that has your hips bucking uncontrollably.

Your moans grow louder, more wanton, despite your best efforts to stay quiet. The combination of his fingers pumping in and out of you and his skilled mouth devouring your pussy is unlike anything you've ever experienced. You've touched yourself, imagined this scenario countless times, but the reality of Caleb's touch surpasses even your most vivid fantasies.

Caleb feels your body tensing, your walls fluttering around his fingers as your climax approaches. He doubles his efforts, fingers thrusting deeper, tongue flicking faster, determined to send you hurtling over the edge into blissful oblivion. Your hands fly to your mouth, trying to stifle the scream of rapture that threatens to escape your lips as your orgasm crashes over you.

He doesn't let up, continuing to thrust and lick, drawing out your pleasure until you think you might pass out from sheer ecstasy. The feeling is indescribable, a mind-blowing explosion of sensation that eclipses anything you've ever experienced alone.

Caleb slowly withdraws his fingers, bringing them up to his mouth to lick them clean "Fuck, you taste even better than I imagined" He crawls up your body, his eyes dark and hungry as he takes in your flushed skin and heaving chest.

As his face comes into view, you find yourself acting on pure instinct. Leaning up, you capture his lips with your own, pouring all the pent up desire and longing from years of secret admiration into the kiss. Your lips move against his with a fervor that surprises even yourself. He kisses you back, his lips moving against yours with a familiar hunger that sends a jolt of memory through you. The memory of a stolen kiss, years ago, in the dim light of the garage. A kiss that tasted of forbidden fruit, a kiss that you swore never to speak of again. But as your lips move against his, the memory comes rushing back, as vivid and intense as the day it happened. The feel of his lips, the scent of his skin, the way his hands gripped your waist and pulled you closer. It was a moment of teenage passion, a moment that you both knew was wrong but felt so right.

Now, as adults, that kiss takes on a new meaning. It's a promise, a vow, a declaration of intent. Caleb's hands slide up your sides, cupping your breasts, kneading the soft flesh as he deepens the kiss. His tongue pushes past your lips, claiming your mouth, exploring every inch of you.

You can feel his arousal pressing against your thigh, hard and insistent. The knowledge that you've reduced him to this state sends a thrill of power and desire coursing through you. You know you should put a stop to this, but you can't. You don't want to. The need to be one with him is overwhelming.

Caleb breaks the kiss, his breath hot against your lips. "Tell me you want this," he demands "Tell me you need me as much as I need you."

"I need you," you breathe out, your voice heavy with desire. Your hands fumble with the hem of his shirt, trying to tug it up and over his muscular chest. Caleb helps you, pulling the shirt off in one swift motion and tossing it aside. Your eyes widen as you take in the sight of his bare torso, the muscles and lean lines. Caleb smirks at your appreciative look "You like what you see, pipsqueak?" he teases, flexing subtly under your touch. "This body is all yours, for the taking. All you have to do is say the word."

He leans down, capturing your lips in another kiss as his hands roam your naked body, caressing every curve. You can feel the heat of his skin, the power in his muscles, and it makes your core clench. He breaks the kiss to trail his lips down your neck, his teeth grazing your pulse point.

Caleb grins against your skin at your eager movements, he feels you struggle to remove his pajama pants. "So impatient," he teases, but he helps you anyway, lifting his hips to allow the fabric to slide down his muscular thighs and calves. His cock springs free, long, hard and throbbing, the thick shaft pulsing with his racing heartbeat.

His smile fades as your small hand wraps around his thick cock. He inhales sharply at the contact, his hips jerking slightly. "Fuck, your hand feels so good," he grunts, his voice strained. But then he pushes you back down onto the bed, his large hands gripping your shoulders.

"No, not right now, princess," he says, shaking his head. "Right now, I need to be inside you. I need to feel your tight little pussy wrapped around my cock. I need to make you mine." He settles himself between your thighs. The thick head of his cock nudges against your folds, slipping through the wetness and leaving a trail of your arousal in its wake. Caleb's eyes lock with yours, his gaze intense and full of unspoken promises.

"Tell me you're ready, meimei," he demands, his voice low and rough with desire. "Tell me you need me inside you, stretching you, filling you up. Tell me you want me to fuck you" He doesn't push inside, not yet. He waits for your permission, for your confirmation that this is what you truly want.

"Please, Caleb," you whisper, your voice trembling with need. You reach down, gripping his ass, your nails digging into the firm flesh and you guide him to your entrance, the head of his cock catching on your hole for a moment before you push him forward, urging him inside.

Caleb flips your positions in a swift, smooth motion, leaving you straddling his lap. He grips your hips, his large hands spanning your waist, and lines himself up with your entrance.

"Set the pace, princess," he murmurs, his voice a low, rough rumble. "Take what you need, what you want. Fuck yourself on my cock until you're satisfied."

His eyes are dark and intense as they lock with yours, filled with a mix of desire, love, and something more, something that says he wants to watch you claim him, to take your pleasure from him without holding back.

"Fuck me, meimei," he growls, his fingers digging into the soft flesh of your hips. "Show me how much you need it. Show me that this is what you've been dreaming of, what you've been craving. Show me that you're mine, now and forever." He doesn't push up into you, doesn't force you down onto his thick cock. He leaves that power in your hands, trusting you to take what you need, to set the rhythm and the pace. His heart pounds beneath your touch, his chest heaving with each breath.

Caleb inhales sharply as you sink down onto his thick shaft, his eyes fluttering closed at the exquisite sensation of your tight cunt engulfing him. He grips your hips tighter, his fingers digging into your soft flesh as he fights the urge to thrust up into you, to bury himself to the hilt in one powerful thrust.

Halfway down, you pause, a soft gasp escaping your lips. "It's too much," you whimper, your voice tight "I feel so full, Caleb. So incredibly full."

Caleb's eyes snap open, his gaze intense and concerned as he takes in your expression. He can feel your walls fluttering around him, clenching and unclenching as they struggle to adjust to his size. He knows he's stretching you more than you've ever been stretched before, knows that the feeling of fullness is almost overwhelming.

"Shh, it's okay, princess," he murmurs, his voice low and soothing. "You're doing so well, taking me so deeply. Just breathe, meimei. Breathe through the sensation and let your body adjust."

His hands slide up your sides, cupping your breasts, his thumbs brushing over your nipples. "You feel incredible," he breathes out "Like you were made just for me, like your body was made to take my cock."

He sits up, pulling you flush against his muscular chest. His arm wraps tightly around your waist, holding you close as he starts to guide your movements. He doesn't force you to take him any deeper, respecting your need for adjustment. "Like this, princess," he murmurs, his lips brushing against your ear. "Nice and easy, just like that. You're doing so well, taking me so beautifully."

He rocks your hips with his, helping you establish a gentle rhythm. The new angle allows you to slide up and down without feeling overwhelmed, the drag of his cock against your sensitive walls sending sparks of pleasure shooting through your body. Caleb's hand slides up your back, his fingers threading into your hair. He tilts your head to the side, his tongue traces the line of your jugular, feeling the way your pulse jumps and flutters at his touch. "Your body is incredible," he breathes out against your skin, his voice rough with desire. "The way you move on my cock, the way you take me in..." His other hand slides down your stomach, his fingers finding your clit. He starts to rub the sensitive nub in slow, deliberate circles, matching the pace of your hips. The added stimulation makes your walls clench and ripple around him, drawing a low moan from deep in his chest. As you continue to move on his lap, finding your rhythm, you start to take him deeper with each downward thrust. Caleb's breath grows ragged, his quiet moans filling the room as your walls grip him tighter and tighter. The feeling of you enveloping him inch by inch, your pussy engulfing his throbbing cock, is almost more than he can bear.

"Fuck, princess," he grunts, his fingers digging into the flesh of your ass. "You feel so fucking good. So tight, so perfect around my cock." He starts to meet your thrusts, rolling his hips up to drive himself deeper into your core. The new angle allows him to hit that special spot inside you with each surge of his hips. "Am I hurting you?" he asks, his voice strained with concern and desire. "Tell me if it's too much, tell me if you need me to stop."

But he doesn't stop, can't stop, driven wild by the way your body is consuming him. He buries his face in the crook of your neck, his teeth finding your pulse point. He bites down, marking you, claiming you, as his hips thrust up into yours, driving himself deeper and harder with each passing second.

"Fuck, I can't..." he pants out, his voice wrecked and raw. "I can't hold back much longer, meimei. You feel too good, too fucking perfect. I need... I need..."

Caleb's eyes flutter open as you still your movements, meeting his gaze. Before he can speak, you capture his lips in a searing kiss, your mouth moving against his with desperate hunger. He kisses you back just as fiercely, his teeth nipping and tugging at your bottom lip.

"I love you," he breathes out against your mouth, the words tumbling from his lips like a sacred vow. "Fuck, y/n, I love you so much. You're mine, all mine." Hearing those three words, feeling the raw emotion make a new wave of emotion crash over you, and you start to move again, taking him to the hilt this time. You sink down onto his cock, your walls clenching and fluttering as you envelop him completely. You roll your hips, rising and falling, as you ride him with wild abandon. Each downward thrust drives him deeper, each upward roll of your hips bringing you back to the brink of ecstasy.

Caleb's hand slides from your hip to your stomach, feeling the way it bulges and stretches around his thick cock. He presses down on it, feeling the shape of himself inside you, the hard length of him pulsing and throbbing against your womb.

The sensation is too much for him. With a quiet moan of your name, he surges up into you, burying himself to the hilt. His cock jerks and twitches as he starts to come, his hot seed spurting deep inside your core.

"Fuck, y/n! Fuck, I'm coming! I'm coming inside you" His fingers dig into your hips, gripping you hard enough to bruise as he holds you down, forcing you to take every last drop of his release. His eyes squeeze shut, his head thrown back, lost in his climax.

The feeling of his hot cum painting your insides, claiming you from the inside out, pushes you over the edge. Your walls clamp down around him as your own orgasm crashes through you.

"Caleb!" you silently cry, not able to hold back anymore" Fuck...Yes, yes, yes!"

Your bodies shake and tremble together. The pleasure is so intense that it borders on pain. You cling to each other, riding out the waves of your releases, lost in the heat and the haze of your passion

Caleb hugs your waist tightly, his strong arms wrapped securely around you. He buries his face between your breasts, his panting breaths hot against your sensitive skin. His face is flushed, a deep rosy hue painting his cheekbones, proof of the intense pleasure and release you've just shared.

"Don't move, princess," he whispers against your skin "Let's stay like this for now. I want to feel you, all of you, wrapped around me."

"Do you feel that meimei?" he asks softly, "The way our hearts are beating together? The way our bodies fit, like two puzzle pieces made to interlock? Don't ever forget this moment," his gaze intense as he stares up at you. "Don't ever forget the way I feel inside you, claiming you, loving you. You're mine now, princess. Truly and completely mine."

Part 1 here

[fuckyeahchinesefashion]

OP: When I posted about Caleb and forgot to block my elder brother

Cnetizens discuss the disastrous misunderstanding caused by the word Gege哥哥 lol

(Context: Caleb is a very popular character from love and deepspace, and he is MC's gege because they are adopted by the same person but they are not blood related or raised up like siblings. Gege is a chinese term literally meaning elder brother but is actually used as a term of endearment among men, including your brother, cousins, boyfriend, crush, your fave idol, a male friend who is older than you, sort like oniisan in japanese and oppa in korean. BTW the prounciation isn't Ge in George but G in Gwen so it's incorrect to say it like gigi. The term depends enormously on context as it isn't necessarily romantic and often just be nice and respectful and polite by default e.g. A Chinese girl will call the son of her mother's best friend who is elder than her "Gege" or "His name-gege" such as LiShen gege, QinChe gege, if his name is three words or more, then they won't use the full name + gege, only the last two syllables - gege, like Xinghui gege or Yizhou gege, that's the convention. Many people think Gege is a bit cutesy and they prefer to go by Ge or Name-ge when calling their normal male friends or cousins they grew up with to show familiarity. Gege is usually used by children and girls, while women over 25-35 use ge more often, unless they are really close to the male or they just like the male very much to imply emotional intimacy, or they indeed are intentionally trying to flirt with him (Not 100% sure, a case-by-case analysis). Most people will just use ge哥 when calling their elder brother to avoid any possible ambiguity caused by gege. Sometimes people also use 'ge' as a general informal honorific on men, commonly used by salespeople to address VIPs. So Gege can be romantic or cheeky or flirty sometimes depending on who you're addressing and the situation. Also Chinese women would never call a male collegue gege in the workplace, don't ever do it, it would be very forward and cringy and unprofessional, but they may call him lastname-ge to show respect, such as "Zhang Ge, Chen Ge, Xiao Ge". )

ps Jiejie姐姐=elder sister, Meimei妹妹=younger sister, Didi弟弟=younger brother, Saozi嫂子=your elder brother's girlfriend or wife, Jiefu姐夫=your elder sister's boyfriend or husband, Dimei弟妹=your younger brother's girlfriend or wife, Meifu妹夫=your younger sister's boyfriend or husband. Chinese maintains a sharp distinction between relatives on the mother's side (cognates) and relatives on the father's side (agnates), and has all kinship terms covering each different relative in the extended family.

[pretend-i-don-t-exist]

anyway photographer!shen yuan bc i got to take pretty pics of gorgeous landscapes earlier and now im considering to shift to an art major

sy likes taking pictures of his siblings and parents. it isn't for any deep reason like recording their most cherished memories to look back on in the future; he just likes taking pictures. his parents got him an expensive camera meant for professional photography with accompanying lessons, and sy absolutely loved it.

he didn't do much outside of photographing his family and friends and whatever caught his eye— he wasn't planning on using it as a side hustle or starting a business or anything. he did, however, create a social media account to share his best works. it did not have a large following or anything; it was just a space for sy to share the things he's passionate about.

sy did make sure that it was very, very far away from his peerless cucumber account, bc he's not going to bring his literary criticisms and analyses of objectively trashy novels to his carefully curated, beautiful artwork.

he is content with that, until his meimei begs him to help her friend with a photoshoot. an up and coming model, apparently, whose photographers dipped from the face of the earth and back-up photographers unavailable due to sickness. his meimei suggested him, bc sy is a professional photographer, just unemployed.

sy has spoiled his sister as much as he could. naturally, he accepts.

the model— going by the name of liu su mian hua— thanks him when he arrived at the set. it's a photoshoot with historical and wuxia elements, so miss liu is wearing a hanfu from her sponsor with a sword and a fan as props. sy's nerdiness and inspiration kicks in and he takes the pictures with gusto, focused on taking the most perfect picture he can.

he and miss liu are both happy by the end of the shoot. sy doesn't think that it would happen again, but it does. apparently, miss liu appreciated how he focused on the shoot itself rather than making passes at her. since sy is... well, an unemployed twenty-something year old with pretty much nothing to do, he accepts whenever miss liu requests him as the photographer.

he meets her brother three photoshoots later, who is as beautiful as she is. he seems mistrusting of sy at first, before slowly warming up. sy offers to take pictures of them both (they look so beautiful! so gorgeous! flawless!) and smiles so much at the results. the siblings are photogenic, and easily understands his instructions. truly the best subjects sy can hope for!

(lmy teases lqg when he gay panics bc he wants to ask out the pretty photographer. she's also taking down notes for her latest fanfiction.)

[yukinohiko]

something about caleb faking his amnesia, observing your response to his offer of a fresh start. he watches as you set up a potted rose on the kitchen table.

“what’s that for?” he asks mildly, softening the edges he thought you retaliated against.

“an analogy.”

“an analogy?” that sparks something; he straightens up slightly, eyeing you with something breaking past his act. “of what?”

“well, it is, technically, room decor.” you grin, before meeting his gaze. “but it’s also an analogy. of us, to be specific.”

“how so?”

“the vines.”

he watches as you curl your finger around two rose vines, showing how they’re intertwined around each other, coiling like two snakes. the flowers bloom together, one slightly larger than the other, folding the smaller within its petals. the visuality makes something tighten in his chest; makes honey churn in his stomach.

“just like us, don’t you think?” you say, still under the impression that he’s lost his memories. still thinking you have some sort of upper hand here to manipulate his thoughts and feelings.

he had thought there was a chance you might run; might create lies; might try to break down everything between them. he was wrong.

you coyly bite one fallen rose-red petal between your teeth and meet his eyes from under dark lashes. “gege, what do you think?”

he swallows, saliva collecting heavily under his tongue. “of what?”

“my analogy.” a sly glint in your eye. “my flower.”

he wonders if he ought to ditch his act now. pretend to regain his memories now; grin in the face of your bullshit; twist those vines around his own finger. he wonders if you’d gasp and fuss, affronted by his deception, or if you’d whine and mewl, petulant but never too upset with your gege.

he fights to control his simmering emotions. soothes them along with an easy, indulgent smile. “I think it’s sweet. you’re very sweet to your gege, hmm? what a good meimei.”

you preen at his words, as he knew you would. his fingers twitch on the table, and he swiftly fists them and leans his cheek on his knuckles, disguising his own pleasure.

“the best,” you say, baiting for more praise. his spoiled girl.

“the best,” he agrees, and catches the petal between his own teeth when you blow it at him like lovers blow a kiss.

[flowersdiceandlove]

Inspired by @sunderwight cosplaying Shen Yuan posts

No transmigration. cumplane.

People obviously take pictures of him when he goes to cons and posts them. They get a lot of attention. People are always in awe at the accuracy and amazing quality of his costumes. The people he commissioned them from get a lot of business afterwards. He pulls off the crossplay really well because of his pretty face and slim body. He just has to add padding in the right areas and learn makeup from his meimei and online tutorials. Sometimes people really can't tell he's a guy it's so good. Especially his Liu Mingyan cosplay that he does the most. She's his favorite of the wives after all and one of the few he thinks close to worthy of Binghe. He's done multiple different outfits for her. He never cosplays Luo Binghe, though. He doesn't think he could pull it off, Binghe is just that amazing. (But obviously he can pull Binghe's peerless beauty wives off.)

His PIDW cosplays make their way to the forums and people talk about them. It is a known fact in those forums that Peerless Cucumber will roast them to hell and back for their inaccuracy and shoddy craftsmanship. So, it is very strange that he never comments on these cosplays. Yes, they're amazing, but surely Peerless Cucumber could find at least one thing wrong with them. Eventually someone tags him in the comments or makes a post asking about them. He replies with something like "I'm the one who designed those. do you really think I would go out like that without them meeting my expectations?" but with more scathing remarks and saying he's not like the others who are fine with cosplay inadequacy.

That spurs many people to go look back through all of this cosplayer's previous cosplays, not just the ones from PIDW, and collectively think "oh wow, he's so pretty." It's a total shock through the entirety of the PIDW forums and fandom. They all thought Peerless Cucumber was some ugly dude behind a computer screen. They're a mix of feeling bad about themselves because when Peerless Cucumber tore them a new one in the forums they comforted themselves with thinking "You're just like us! Just some dude reading trashy novels! Nothing special! You're just mean cause you have nothing going for you!" and also the Peerless Cucumber fanclub growing because he is just that pretty and going feral over it.

His gender comes into question because a good number of people are convinced he's actually a girl. When he catches wind of that he responds with "Of course I'm a guy you idiots!! WTF!? Have you gone blind after reading all of Airplane's stupid writing!?" He's giving gender envy to a lot of people.

Some people are still unconvinced that the cosplayer is actually Peerless Cucumber because how can someone that pretty be Peerless Cucumber? They think he's just trolling everyone or something.

In the newest arcs of PIDW some very pretty ladies with cutting words and biting insults and criticisms are introduced. The ladies all have very high expectations of what their spouse should be like and have turned away every man seeking their hand in marriage. Of course when Luo Binghe enters the scene he meets all their expectations and requirements and sweeps them off their feet. A lot of readers who are keeping up on the Peerless Cucumber cosplay saga make the connection. Shen Yuan does not, and tears the new wives apart about how mean they were to Binghe at first, and then about how weak and pathetic they are, and then their clinginess, and so on. With every new day, Peerless Cucumber's criticisms are rectified as the arc continues, but he always finds something new wrong with the women. The other readers have varied reactions to this development. Some think that Peerless Cucumber should just shut it and let the Great God Airplane do his thing. Some of the people who Know about the cosplay saga and made the connection just want this time of Airplane making Peerless Cucumber into one of Binghe's wives to be over because this is a stallion novel. They don't want to read about Bingge seducing fem fantasy Peerless Cucumber. Just give them the normal women back. Other readers who Know are excited for the eventual sex scenes. Shen Yuan is just happy that his critiques are finally being taken into account, hoping that maybe at this rate Binghe will get an actually good wife and not just another useless beauty to throw into the harem garden.

Eventually Shen Yuan starts criticizing even the current to-be-wife's name, and so Airplane goes on and asks "Well what would you name her then if you've got so many ideas?" and generally just trying to bait him. It works, and Shen Yuan give a very beautiful name actually that fits her character and background. It is revealed in the next chapters that the name they've known her by so far isn't her real name and her actual name is the one Peerless Cucumber came up with.

The seemingly endless amount of chapters continues and the pretty but scathing wives get added to the harem and the story goes on. However, those wives get brought back out to go on adventures with Binghe and are otherwise reoccurring characters in the story. If one was paying close attention and looking for it, they would notice that the wife makes an appearance after Peerless Cucumber makes a particularly harsh comment or scathing criticism. People take to trying to bait Peerless Cucumber into doing it so they get more of those wives and especially the one he named which is becoming a fan favorite. Fanart gets made of her and people tease Peerless Cucumber about it. He critics all the fanart with his known ruthlessness about canon accuracy.

Some people have dropped it cause they don't want to see Peerless Cucumber get wifified any more, some people get even more invested because of that. A good number of people still don't think Peerless Cucumber is the cosplayer.

It comes to a head with an upcoming con in a few months. Airplane has a panel there. People are also asking if Peerless Cucumber will be going in cosplay. He says he's thinking about it and has some ideas on what character to go as, but is still deciding. Of course people instantly hone in on that and tell him he should go as the wife he practically made. He says no at first, but then Airplane comes on and says he'd really like to see him do that cosplay. Shen Yuan decides to take that opportunity. You see they have met, briefly, in the past at cons, but Airplane always finds a way to bail when Shen Yuan really starts laying into the critiques. Shen Yuan wasn't in cosplay those times and he had a face mask on so he wasn't recognized that way but no one could mistake Peerless Cucumber's reviews. Airplane also doesn't do cons very often, choosing to focus on writing the story instead.

And so, the following conversation occurs in the forum:

Peerless Cucumber: I will if you stop running away from me at cons.

RandomUsernameI'mTooLazyToComeUpWith: oh shit, oh great god airplane do it! do it!

RandomUsernameI'mTooLazyToComeUpWith2: yeah i gotta se this fuck itll be so hot

Airplane Shooting Towards the Sky: you got a deal. you wear that cosplay and you can say whatever you want for however long you want. it'll even be in character.

RandomUsernameI'mTooLazyToComeUpWith: oh hell yeah!!! whooo!!!

Peerless Cucumber: You better mean that because I will bring printouts with notes and highlighted sections.

Airplane Shooting Towards the Sky: bring whatevr you want so long as you wear that cosplay.

With that, the PIDW fandom holds even more excitement for the upcoming con because not only with the Great God Airplane be there they'll also get a peerless beauty of a cosplayer in a sexy outfit. The wife in question's outfit isn't the most revealing of the wives because Peerless Cucumber always critiques the practicality of that, but it's still the world of Proud Immortal Demon Way so there is some skin showing.

The con rolls around and the PIDW fans are on the lookout for someone dressed as That Wife. For the first couple days, Shen Yuan makes rounds to booths, not in cosplay, getting merch and volumes as he goes because he has a lot of things to say to Airplane and wants to get the bulk of his shopping done first so they have time and he doesn't hold up the line of people to see Airplane.

On the last day of the con is when he dons his cosplay of That Wife and get his character-accurate bag with the printouts and evidence of Airplane's failing as an author in it. He still makes stops at other booths on his way to the official PIDW one. He gets stopped to take photos and gets compliments on his cosplay. Eventually the PIDW fans find him go even crazier about it. Some say things like "I can't believe it's really you!" and word gets around the PIDW fans that Peerless Cucumber is here and he is in That cosplay and he does look fucking hot. Shen Yuan stays in character of the icy beauty as he interacts with the fans which only fans the flames. Before he even makes it to Airplane's booth he gets swarmed with PIDW fans, some are mean to him and want to knock him off his high-horse, but they get a verbal smackdown from Shen Yuan (still in character) and shoved aside by his own fans who start calling out their online handles asking for Shen Yuan's honest thoughts about them. And he does so either tearing them apart with words, saying they honestly didn't leave enough of an impression for him to even know, and in very rare instances offer some praise.

Shen Yuan finally makes it to the PIDW booth Airplane is at later than he wanted, but he makes it there with an entourage wanting to see the showdown. There are also guys hanging around the booth who have been waiting for this. When Airplane finally sees Shen Yuan in his cosplay, he thinks "Fuck. He's even hotter in person." and is more than happy to listen to all of Shen Yuan's complaints and looking at the highlighted parts of his novel and citations showing how historically inaccurate that is and the discrepancies within his own body of fiction.

Shen Yuan is still going and isn't even close to being done when they announce that the venue is closing and asking for everyone to start making their way out. Shen Yuan glares up at the intercom, still wanting to continue his triad.

"Well, I did say you could keep going however long you wanted so long as you wear that cosplay. I didn't say it had to be at the con," Airplane says, and Shen Yuan looks at him with considering eyes.

"Hmm. That is true, and I still have a lot to go through..."

They end up going to a restaurant for dinner (Shen Yuan's treat), and Shen Yuan continues all through the meal. When he still has more to say when the restaurant says that it's closing, he gets the most expensive suite at the most high-end hotel in the area with his richboy money because that's the only room left with the con going on. Shen Yuan figures that after spending so much time with Airplane today (along with reading so much of his writing) he has a pretty good grasp on the guy and doubts he's gonna get murdered by him so gets the hotel room. Airplane is in awe at all the fancy shit and money that Shen Yuan spends like it's nothing.

They stay in the main living room of the suite where there are couches. Shen Yuan lays his printouts out on the table, and even pulls up webpages on the rooms tv. There are pjs among other items reserved for the high-end rooms. Airplane ends up changing into the pjs and marvels over them being silk. Shen Yuan ditched his shoes and some smaller parts of his cosplay, but keeps the bulk of it on due to the agreement. Despite the dinner, Airplane also snacks on the room's food while Shen Yuan continues his verbal assault.

At one point, though, Airplane interrupts Shen Yuan, clutching his arm, looking at him with tears in his eyes. "Bro... Cucumber-bro... You... You're like an actual angel, dude. I died and this is heaven."

"What the fuck are you talking about?" Shen Yuan asks, annoyed at the interruption, he was just about to connect another point.

"The food. This room. The silk pjs. Bro. This is heaven."

"No it's not. And stop crying!"

"Bro..."

Shen Yuan ends up patting his back for awhile while Airplane cries on his shoulder. His hand migrates up to Airplane's head and pats his fluffy head of hair that is actually really soft (Airplane took a shower and made sure his hair looked good since he knows how scathing Shen Yuan is and hot he was gonna look in the cosplay).

They eventually start drinking a some of the alcohol in the suite's fridge, but don't get too drunk. Nothing really happens, but they do end up sleeping in the same bed and cuddling in it because they fell asleep while Shen Yuan was still criticizing him.

The next morning Shen Yuan finally can't take the cosplay and makeup anymore and takes a shower while Airplane sleeps in. Airplane wakes to the sight of Shen Yuan in a hotel bathrobe, finishing drying his hair with his glasses on(he'd been wearing contacts and only switched to his glasses late into the night), and the sunlight from the window shining on him.

"Oh, fuck," Airplane says, staring at him.

"What?" Shen Yuan asks, not sure why Airplane is staring. He's not doing anything weird! He's just drying his hair! There's nothing wrong with wanting a shower after being in that getup for so long! He's just a normal dude right now! What's with that blank stare!?

"It's not just the makeup..." Airplane mumbles and face-plants back onto the bed with a groan. Shen Yuan is left confused, but eventually throws a room service menu on the bed asking what he wants for breakfast.

Before his shower, Shen Yuan had called home and asked his family's butler to bring him a change of clothes because he doesn't want to put all of his cosplay back on. This is why, after breakfast, Airplane sees Shen Yuan dressed in another well-tailored outfit, this time much more modern and male, made up of pale greens and creams looking like he just walked off a fashion runway.

"Brooooo... How do people like you exist?"

They end up exchanging some contact info because even though Shen Yuan talked until they fell asleep, he still has more to say. Airplane does agree to listen and says Shen Yuan only has to be in cosplay for the really harsh stuff.

Clips fans had recorded of Shen Yuan's triad at Airplane at the con get circled around and the PIDW fandom is on fire with it. People are going crazy over it. Shen Yuan's Peerless Cucumber inbox gets flooded with people requesting different cosplays along with sexual jokes and comments. The next chapter of PIDW has a dedication at the top to Peerless Cucumber and thanks. The next arc in the story is about Luo Binghe getting stranded in a place where fighting is outlawed, without any money, strict societal structures, and needing to recover from a battle. The love interest who helps Luo Binghe in his time of need is the daughter of a very wealthy family who starts off as cool and astute that can give a verbal lashing better than anyone is slowly revealed to have a soft spot for Luo Binghe in his weakened state. She takes care of him and even takes to giving him gentle pats on his head. When Binghe ends up getting into a physical fight with one of the villains of the arc, she comes to his defense against the society's court vouching for his good character. They place him in her custody due to her family's good name and she sets him up in a lavish living space with anything he could possibly need. When they find out that the love interest has a younger sister only a few years younger and not just two older brothers, the fans think she's gonna get haremed as well, but, surprisingly, the little sister doesn't join the harem with her elder sister. Peerless Cucumber praises the decision to leave the little sister be, happy that Luo Binghe is finally showing discernment of who to let into the harem.

After a couple more arcs, Airplane posts a notice that says he'll be slowing the pace of updates as he starts planning out the arcs leading up to the end of the story and hopes his fans understand. While the updates do lessen in frequency, the word count of each chapter does not and the quality improves, plot holes being filled and storylines being flushed out.

Within a well-furnished and kept apartment in the city is where Airplane works on all of this having moved there on Shen Yuan's dime when Shen Yuan learned the reason for the atrocious writing was that he was trying to make money to live and had to pander to his readers. The fridge stocked and living space confirmed, Airplane is now able to actually write quality verse the quantity. He even has a brutally honest beta reader who seems to spend more time here than at his family's estate.

While Shen Yuan never says it, Airplane is pretty sure they're dating, even if they aren't that physical with each other other than Shen Yuan running a hand through his hair while he reads, leaning against each other, holding hands when their out "so they don't get separated in the crowd"(there is no crowd Cucumber-bro), a hug when meeting and leaving each other, and the occasional cuddle session when Airplane is having a Time of it or Shen Yuan is dealing with medical issues or Shen Yuan spends the night and they a share the bed. He feels this suspicion is confirmed when Shen Yuan introduces him to his parents and they ask Airplane to take care of their son. So Airplane takes to hugging Shen Yuan more and despite a little grumbling about clinginess, doesn’t stop him and will even pat his head or arm or shoulder or even hug back.

Once PIDW is completed after a harrowing four years, Airplane takes a break to plan out his next story then shocks everyone by writing a fantasy novel featuring two men as the main couple. The writing itself is so different from PIDW with well thought out storylines, character backstories, and complex characters and settings. It gets in the top five on the website it's posted on and Airplane even gets a contract with a publisher. Shen Yuan couldn't be prouder of him.

Shen Yuan still cosplays. He even commissions outfits to be made of Airplane's not yet published characters so Airplane can see how they look irl and Shen Yuan can prove a point that something is not realistic.

They also have a deal that if Shen Yuan is gonna give some especially scathing constructive criticism that Shen Yuan has to wear a cosplay of Airplane's choosing and stay in character for it. It's a good thing that characters that aren't afraid to give a good verbal beatdown are becoming a common occurrence in Airplane's novels.

[shishuri]

I honestly think Lakan's character design is smart.

Lakan's character design was made to be sus AF. When he was introduced, either in the manga or in the anime, the first thing you would have thought was "this guy looks sleazy", or there is an immediate reaction of, "i hate this guy". Because he has a generic design for an actual sleazy, character, you know that character in any anime that with one look, you know he is the bad guy. It also adds that Maomao's response to hearing that he is nearby or she could possibly meet him was with wary or fear, in case of the anime, that one jumpscare scene of angry Maomao.

And then we finally get to see him in action, he presented himself as this drunkard high official that seems like he would take advantage of anyone and everyone, he would take the woman he is infatuated with, with force. He invokes hate and disgust, it is fueling the 'hate bonfire'. we would never root for this guy, we hoped that he would never get Maomao ever.

And then we get the chapter Balsam and wood sorrel, Lakan and Fengxian's history, we got slapped so hard with their reality, and all that hate bonfire got immediately doused in one swoop. He was the opposite of everything we saw him as the audience.

He never forced himself upon Fengxian, he loved and respected her too much for that.

He wanted to marry her, it was against his will to just up and leave her after they had their first night.

Finding out that Fengxian was gone broke him.

She was the only person he could see her face and she was gone.

And then he met Maomao, he sees her face too, he described her as like a Wood Sorrel, the nail polish Fengxian used, this was their child and all he wanted was to be with her and raise her.

After all that the biggest gut punch for us the audience is when he was about to choose the Courtesan to redeem, without getting Maomao's hidden message. Meimei bless her heart, she was also inlove with him but she still led him to Fengxian, after all those years and all the damage to her face due to Syphilis, he still recognizes her voice and her face, she was still the most beautiful person he has ever met.

We the audience judged him right away from the moment we met him, but all along we were so wrong in a way. He is just a doting father to his children and loves his wife no matter what.

If this doesn't invoke the iconic

You need to check if you still have a heart 😂

He is admittedly sleazy when it comes to his job as a strategist,but that's besides the point cause that's his job lol..

[ddejavvu]

can I request a drabble or fic about Curtis sister getting bullied?

sigh. writing curtis!sister stuff is so nostalgic and personal to me. inside of me lives a thirteen year old girl who desperately wanted them to be my brothers. this is for little meimei <33

send me requests for the outsiders!

--

You'd been expecting Steve to pick you up from school, but there must have been a rush at the DX, because it's Two-Bit's creaky old car that chugs along the back street. That's fine too - you could use a laugh after today.

There's a certain level of teasing that you've come to expect because of your social status, but lately some of the older girls around school have made it their personal mission to go above and beyond the standard. Just today they'd begun making fun of the keychain attached to your bookbag- a mickey mouse pendant that had been a gift from Two-Bit himself. Stolen, of course, but not from just any corner store. No, that one had come from a big fancy Disney store, in a big fancy mall hours outside of Tulsa.

He'd been grossly proud of himself when he'd given it to you for your birthday, but according to those older girls, Mickey Mouse was for kids, and that made you one.

You'd tucked it safely into the front pocket of your bag, but Two-Bit notices its absence when you slide into the front seat like there's a neon sign advertising it.

"Hey, kid, where's the keychain?" He nods at your bag, "Did it break off already? Damn Disney, makin' cheap, lousy shit."

"No, it's- it didn't break." You settle into your seat, "I just- took it off."

Two-Bit's hands tighten slightly on the wheel, and he clears his throat, attempting to remain nonchalant.

"Oh. Any reason?"

You think you've hurt his feelings. He's quiet in a way that he usually isn't, and there's no trace of his signature brand of playfulness.

"It's not that I don't like it, Two." You reassure him, reaching over to brace your hand against his leg briefly. He glances at it, throwing you a smile, albeit a wounded one. "I just- I had it on my bag this morning, but then- I dunno, some girls were teasing me about it. I just wanted to avoid trouble."

You'd been attempting to relieve him of any hurt, but now he looks like he wants to hurt the girls you're talking about. He doesn't go to school very often, choosing instead to bum around at your house with a beer and a slice of cake. But you have a sinking feeling that he's going to have perfect attendance from now on, as your personal bodyguard.

"They're pickin' on you?" He asks, glancing over at you from the side of his eye as he tries keeping his focus on the road.

"It's not that bad," You lie, shrugging and reaching into your bag to put your keychain back where it belongs, displayed proudly on your zipper, "They're just high school bullies, Two. Don't worry about it. And don't- don't tell Darry. Please?"

"I don't know, kid." Two-Bit's jaw tightens, shifting as he turns a corner towards the east side of town, "I don't like this. No one should be picking on you. And not to brag, but I know how much you like that keychain. If it's bad enough for you to hide it..."

"It's not that bad, I just- I'm trying to make sure it doesn't get worse. I'm fine," You vow, but there's still a pool of dread in your gut whenever one of the girls' faces flashes in your mind.

"I'm comin' with you tomorrow to school," Two-Bit decides predictably, "And I'm gonna see it for myself, and if they're really layin' into you, I'm rallying the whole gang. Including your brothers. Let us help you, kid."

"No, please-? I don't wanna make it a big deal," You gush, "Two-Bit, everybody's stressed enough. Darry barely has any time to sleep, Soda's worryin' all day about Sandy, Ponyboy's gotta study or Darry'll be on him, just- I don't need to make things worse."

"You aren't makin' anything worse." He frowns, pulling over to the side of the road to turn towards you without the threat of crashing, "Those girls are. Listen, kid. Your brothers care about'cha. We all do. And all of us'd be happy to stick up for you. You know how much fun me 'n Steve would have rippin' into a bunch of mean girls?"

"Don't tell them yet." You insist, but you feel the sincerity of his speech, "Just- wait and see tomorrow. You'll probably scare 'em off anyways."

"I'll wear my best Mickey Mouse shirt," Two promises, his usual shit-eating grin now triumphantly returned to his face as he merges back into the road, "And by that I mean my only one- 'nless you count the old gym shirt my sister drew on."

--

You're nervous about walking back into school with the Mickey Mouse keychain hanging from your bag once more, but you're flanked by an unknowing Ponyboy on your left and a determined Two-Bit on your right, so you know no harm will come to you. Two-Bit is, in fact, wearing his Mickey shirt beneath his leather jacket, practically a dare for anyone to come and say something to him about you.

You think you're in the clear until the three girls you'd been cornered by the day before spot you, and neither Two-Bit nor Ponyboy notice their expressions, but you feel their gaze on the back of your neck. You're sure your keychain is bouncing around in plain sight from the movement of your stride, but with your two bodyguards around none of them dare to say anything.

Two-Bit drops you off at the door to your first class, raising his eyebrows knowingly but subtle enough that it slips past Ponyboy.

"'Kay. I'll meetcha here after class. Wanna sit with us for lunch, kid?"

You nod, thankful that he phrased it as an invitation so that Pony is none the wiser. In reality, you'd been planning on clinging to Two-Bit's leather jacket the entire lunch period. You're glad you have an excuse to do so, now.

You're lucky enough to have B-track classes today, which puts you in different groups than yesterday's A-track. It means that your only possible encounters with the three girls are in the hallways, but Two-Bit makes it impossible for anyone to pick on you by tailing you to each of your classes.

You think you've made it out alive- hopefully forever, by the end of the school day, and the ride home in Two-Bit's creaky little car feels miles better than it had the day before. Ponyboy's silent in the backseat, but that's usual for him, and you think nothing of it as you enjoy the ice cream that Two-Bit buys for the three of you.

It's when you're home that things really go downhill, sitting quietly around the dinner table when Ponyboy speaks for the first time all night.

"Y/N, why didn't'cha tell us you're getting picked on?" He raises the question quietly, but it's just for show- you know he's irritated, and Darry and Soda both straighten in their seats.

"What?" You feign innocence, digging your fork through the spaghetti on your plate, "What are you talkin' about, Pony?"

"These girls were talkin' about you in my history class." Ponyboy grumbles, and shit, you hadn't even considered the possibility of them sharing a class with your brother. You know he's smart for his age, that he was placed a year ahead of his grade level, but you hadn't connected the dots that they'd be in the same classes.

Darry's focus is on you now, but you know him and Soda are both still waiting for Ponyboy to continue. You avoid all three of their gazes, scrutinizing your spaghetti instead.

"They said they were planning on cornering you today. But they said since Two and I were with 'ya, they couldn't. Why didn't'cha tell us they were bothering you?"

Darry shifts forwards in his seat, more intimidating than he means to be. He's worried, you know that, but that's what you'd been trying to avoid.

"It's nothing serious, Pony." You try placating him, the whole table for that matter, "They're just mean girls. I'm handling it fine, really."

"They were talkin' about cornering you?" Darry finally speaks up, his voice unconsciously booming, "Y/N, I don't think you could've handled yourself then. Now I know you don't like makin' a scene but they could've hurt you. How many of 'em are there?"

"Three." You mumble, "Darry, I- I would've got out of it okay, really! They're real preppy, put-together girls, they probably wouldn't fight. Pro'lly just wanted to call me names or something."

"I don't want someone callin' you names, either." Soda frowns, his own plate forgotten as he focuses on you, "Did you tell a teacher about it?"

"No, it's- it's not that bad! Really, guys, you're overreacting. It's just high school drama. It sounds worse than it is."

"I don't like it." Darry decides, a note of finality in his voice that you're not happy about, "That ain't okay. And you know we'd back you up, kiddo. Pony, Johnny and Steve are there every day, and if you told Two-Bit, I'm sure he'd show up too."

"I did tell Two-Bit," You admit reluctantly, and rush to finish before your brothers get offended, "He got it out of me on the way home yesterday. That's why he came today, to make sure none of 'em got a hold of me."

"See, you do need a bodyguard," Soda reasons, leaning back in his chair, "Maybe I oughta take a day off from work. Drop you off tomorrow, give 'em the death stare or somethin'. If you want, I can have Dally tag along, that'll really scare 'em."

"No! No, don't take the day off, and- and don't show up! Especially not with Dallas," You groan, "This is why I didn't tell any of you guys. You have enough to worry about, you don't need to get involved in girl stuff."

Darry kicks your foot under the table, not hard, but reassuring, "Don't say that, kiddo. It ain't just 'girl stuff' if you're gettin' cornered at school. And we'd be more worried if you came home with a black eye. Now you let us all pick you up from school tomorrow, m'kay? Keep the boys with you, and Pony, keep an eye on those girls in class to see if they talk any more about Y/N."

"I will." Pony vows, and Soda finally relaxes, going for another bite of spaghetti at the same time that he tries speaking.

"Steve and I'll whip 'em if they act out," He promises through a mouthful of food, eliciting a sickened laugh from you, and two groans from your other brothers.

"Chew your food, Soda," Pony grimaces, and Darry elbows Soda unimpressed.

"Thanks, guys." You mumble, bashful for needing help but grateful your brothers are so willing to step into the ring for you, "It's- it's really not that bad but thank you for helping me anyways."

"Anytime, kiddo," Darry promises, a rare smile crossing his face, "Can't have the best of us gettin' beat up at school."

"Hey! The best of us?" Ponyboy glares at Darry, stabbing his spaghetti, "What happened to my big brains?"

"I dunno, I think you lost 'em when you fell from the top of the drive-in fence," You smirk at your youngest brother, still older but easiest to tease, "You hit the ground pretty hard."

Soda erupts into laughter at the memory, and Ponyboy continues his vicious assault on his dinner while Darry smothers a laugh, trying to keep the peace.

"But we mean it." Darry looks at you again, a hint of that former sternness crossing his face again, "If you need muscle, you got it. Ain't nobody gonna mess with my kid sister."

"'Specially not if Dallas shows up," Soda snickers, "Them girls'll go runnin' for the hills when they see him helpin' you in the car."

"Tell him to behave himself," You groan, "I don't need to be called into the office 'cause my brother's friend flashed a heater 'round the parking lot."

"He never behaves himself," Pony scoffs, "But if them girls are smart enough, they'll stay away from you before he has to get crazy on 'em."

"They'll stay away from you," Darry vows, and you believe him with the way the muscles in his strong arms flex as he leans forwards on the table, "Or they're gonna have to worry about somethin' worse than Dally."