`Hi! I wanted to ask the Love and Deepspace team to keep Valko's launch. I agree he deserved more time in the spotlight before the launch, deserved more build-up, but genuinely I've been so excited for him. Please reconsider your decision on removing him. For all the negativity, there are so many more people out here who do want him around. Don't give up on us!`
`Valko was a highly anticipated addition to the game and many Global fans find this decision to remove him to be poorly thought out. We love him already and want the love and care that his artists and writers poured into him to be made available to his fans. Please reconsider and bring Valko back! Especially out of respect for the artists, writers, and his voice actors!`
`Dear Love and Deepspace Team,I'm writing because I'm deeply disappointed by the decision to cancel Valko.I understand that the team is responding to community feedback, but many players were genuinely excited for Valko and were looking forward to his story. It feels unfair that the support for him was overshadowed by the backlash.I have supported Love and Deepspace every month by spending money on the game because I truly love it. This is the first time I have ever seriously considered quitting because of a decision like this.Please reconsider bringing Valko back. We need him as part of the six love interests. Without him, the game feels incomplete.Thank you for your time, and I sincerely hope Valko will return.___________主题：关于敖尹的玩家心声——恳请重新考虑亲爱的恋与深空团队：感谢你们在这段艰难时期倾听玩家的声音。我知道过去几天对所有人来说都不容易，也很感激你们的团队愿意直接回应玩家的反馈。我想以一个对取消敖尹这一决定感到非常心痛的玩家身份，给你们写这封信。从他第一次公布的那一刻起，他的设计和身世之谜就深深吸引了我。在长时间等待新角色之后，他重新点燃了我对这款游戏的期待，我一直很期待了解他的故事，看他如何融入这个世界。我理解大家的不满。已有角色的长期未更新剧情确实需要被重视，这些诉求是合理的。但我不认为敖尹本身是问题所在,取消他并不能解决这些问题，反而让另一部分期待迎接他的玩家感到失望。我也想到了所有为他付出心血的人：编剧、美术、动画师、程序员、音乐制作人、配音演员们，他们投入了大量时间和精力才让这个角色得以呈现。如果这些努力最终无法让玩家体验到，实在令人惋惜。恳请你们考虑除永久取消之外的其他方案。哪怕他的上线需要推迟，等现有角色得到应有的剧情更新之后再说，我也愿意等待，相信很多玩家也是如此。恋与深空一直以来都致力于为玩家创造难忘的回忆，而敖尹在我们真正与他相遇之前，就已经在很多人心中留下了意义。无论你们最终做出怎样的决定，我都希望你们能记得，有许多玩家曾经为他感到期待，也仍然希望有一天他能在恋与深空中找到属于自己的位置。感谢你们读完这封信。`
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`Hello IGN team,I wanted to send a tip about a major developing controversy in the Love and Deepspace fandom.Today, the official Love and Deepspace account announced that Valko, the game’s newly revealed sixth love interest, has been canceled.This is especially notable because Valko had only just been announced as the game’s sixth male lead, with his debut planned for Version 6.0. His reveal triggered intense backlash, particularly from parts of the Chinese player base. Much of the criticism focused on his appearance, his “Westernized” design, and the belief that his addition would take resources away from the existing love interests.However, the backlash appears to have gone far beyond normal criticism. Players have been circulating reports and screenshots alleging death threats, harassment, funeral-themed protest items, cow dung being sent to or left near the company’s HQ, and discriminatory comments aimed at the character’s perceived Western appeal and werewolf-coded/queer-coded presentation. There have also been widespread accusations from global fans that some of the backlash included racist and homophobic rhetoric.The reason I think this is newsworthy is that the company appears to have fully capitulated to the most hostile side of the backlash. By canceling Valko outright after his reveal, many players feel Love and Deepspace is effectively rewarding harassment and discriminatory fandom behavior rather than drawing a line against it. Fans who were excited for Valko are now upset not only because the character was canceled, but because the decision seems to validate the harassment campaign against him.This could be a significant story about live-service games, otome fandom, Chinese/global player-base tensions, and what happens when companies respond to extreme fan backlash by removing announced content.Thank you for looking into it.`
Further email options and actions: https://docs.google.com/document/d/1vCH71CCf6JzcmicrC01xO20AhOArl7eg8SVMV0Owh0w/edit?usp=sharing
With the cancellation of Valko I know we are not the main fan base and we are just global, but we still have a small voice. We should use it.
If you haven’t filled out your in-game survey please fill it out now and let them know how you feel about the cancellation of Valko.
Please go to the App Store and leave a one star review and write inside the review bring Valko back.
Please leave a comment on all their social media outlets and then unfollowed them.
I know it doesn’t seem like much and it may not work at all, but they should hear us. The people who want this cancellation aren’t the only ones with the voice. They may not even be the majority they were just really loud. So let’s be just as loud.
As the days slip by in a blur of Caleb’s hands, mouth, and fingers, you start to notice a pattern.
Your pleasure is a frequent focus—waking to the heat of his tongue between your thighs, falling asleep with the ghost of his touch on your sensitive skin.
But you’ve only tasted him once, and despite your insistence that you want more, Caleb always finds ways to redirect your attention back to your own pleasure.
It’s not that you’re keeping score—okay, maybe you’re keeping a little score—but there’s something about the way he seems to prioritize your satisfaction over his own that both warms your heart and frustrates you to no end.
Tonight is no different.
Caleb has you pinned against the couch, his weight pressing you into the cushions as his mouth works its magic along the column of your throat. His lips find that spot behind your ear that makes your toes curl, then travel down to the sensitive junction where neck meets shoulder.
Your fingers tangle in his dark hair, gripping the soft strands with increasing urgency as his teeth graze your pulse point, sending shivers racing down your spine.
“Wait,” you gasp, tugging at his hair until he lifts his head to look at you. His purple eyes are half-lidded, pupils dilated with desire, lips parted and slightly swollen from kissing you senseless.
“What’s wrong?” he asks, voice rough with arousal as he pushes a strand of hair from your face with unexpected gentleness.
You steel yourself, choosing your words carefully. “I want you to teach me how to make you feel good.”
The surprise that flickers across his face is quickly replaced by a smile. “Pips, you make me feel good all the time.”
“You know what I mean,” you insist, refusing to be distracted by his deflection. “I want to learn how to please you—not just with my mouth.”
Caleb’s hand finds your waist, fingers spreading to span your ribs as his thumb traces small circles on your lower stomach. “Watching you fall apart when I touch you pleases me more than you know.”
It’s such a quintessentially Caleb response—selfless, generous, infuriating—that you want to scream. Or kiss him. Or both, in rapid succession.
“That’s not what I’m talking about,” you huff, pushing at his chest to create some distance between you. “I mean I want to make you cum the way you make me cum.”
The words hang between you, and you watch as something darkens in Caleb’s expression—hunger and reluctance warring in his purple gaze.
“It’s not just about that,” he says finally, his voice dropping to that register that sends heat pooling in your core. “Seeing your pleasure is enough for me.”
You narrow your eyes, suspicion dawning. “Wait a minute. Is this because you’re a raging celibate virgin? Don’t get any when you’re at Skyhaven? Is that why you don’t want me to make you feel good? Because you’re afraid you’ll lose control?”
To your surprise, Caleb laughs, the sound rich and warm as his head drops to your shoulder. “Is that what you think, mei mei?” he asks, voice thick with amusement. “That I’m out there saving myself for marriage while I’m gone?”
“Well, you’re certainly saving yourself from me,” you mutter, crossing your arms over your chest in what you hope is a convincing show of pique. “Saint Caleb, patron saint of self-control.”
Instead of rising to your bait, he simply cups your face in his hands, thumbs stroking your cheekbones with maddening tenderness. “You have no idea how much control it takes not to devour you the moment I walk through that door.”
You’ve been building to this confrontation for days, watching Caleb bring you to screaming orgasms while remaining frustratingly clothed and composed.
“So you just—what? Beat off in the shower thinking about your sister like some kind of pervert?” The words are deliberately crude, calculated to get a rise out of him.
You watch the muscle in his jaw jump, a flash of something dangerous crossing his features before he reins it in. “Y/N,” he warns, but there’s no real heat in his voice.
“What? That’s not it?” You press on, sensing a crack in his composure. “You’re not a perv? Not a creep? Not a sister-fucking—“
“Enough,” Caleb cuts you off, but there’s still no sign that you’ve truly pushed him past his limits. If anything, he looks amused by your antics, which only makes you more determined to break through.
Your mind races, searching for the one button guaranteed to get a reaction. And then it hits you—the one person who can truly get under Caleb’s skin.
“If you’re not going to teach me,” you say slowly, watching his face carefully, “then maybe I should ask Gideon for lessons instead. I bet he’d be more than happy to show me how to make a man feel good.”
The change is instantaneous and terrifying. Caleb’s body goes rigid against yours, his hands flying to your shoulders to grip them with bruising force. His expression transforms—all traces of amusement vanishing, replaced by something primal and possessive.
“Don’t,” he growls, the single word vibrating with barely contained rage. “Don’t you fucking dare.”
“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” you taunt, your voice dropping to a whisper as you lean closer, knowing exactly what you’re doing now. “If I asked your best friend to fuck me instead of you? If I let him make me scream the way you do?”
Caleb’s eyes narrow, his fingers digging into your flesh hard enough to leave marks. “You have no idea what you’re playing with right now.”
“Then show me,” you challenge, your heart racing as you press your advantage. “Show me what happens when I push you too far.”
For a long moment, Caleb just stares at you, his purple eyes so dark they’re almost black. You can practically see the calculations happening behind them—weighing options, measuring control against desire.
And then, with a speed that leaves you breathless, Caleb moves.
You barely have a moment to catch your breath before Caleb moves with that lightning-quick precision that reminds you of his military training.
His arms—thick, powerful things that make your stomach flip—suddenly wrap around your waist, trapping you against his chest as he settles back onto the couch.
“Ge ge, what—“ you start to ask, but your question is cut short as his hands position you with deliberate strength.
Caleb’s big hands grip your waist, thumbs digging into the soft flesh above your hips as he lifts you effortlessly, arranging you so you’re straddling his lap. Your knees press into the couch cushions on either side of his thighs, your ass settling against the hardness still evident through his sweatpants.
“That’s better,” he murmurs, satisfaction coloring his voice as he looks up at you from this new angle. “Right where you belong.”
You’re still catching your breath from the previous intensity, your legs trembling slightly from both exertion and the sudden rush of new arousal. Caleb notices immediately, his hands running soothingly up and down your sides, though his eyes remain hungry.
“Feel better?” you ask, voice still rough.
His only response is a low growl, a sound that vibrates through your entire body where you’re pressed against his chest. And then his head dips, burying his face in the soft valley between your breasts.
You gasp as his hair tickles your chin, your hands automatically flying to his shoulders for balance as Caleb’s face presses firmly against your chest. His eyes close, nostrils flaring as he takes a deep, deliberate inhale, his breath hot through the thin fabric of your tank top.
“Mmm,” he hums against you, the vibration traveling straight to your core. “Fucking love how you smell, Pips. Always have.”
The admission sends a blush across your cheeks, though there’s no one here to witness it but Caleb—and he’s already seen and done far more intimate things to you than smelling your tits.
“Sweet,” he continues, nuzzling deeper between your breasts, his nose tracing the curve of one and then the other. “Mine.”
His arms tighten around your waist, keeping you securely in his lap as his face continues its exploration of your chest.
“Such pretty tits,” Caleb murmurs, voice muffled against your flesh. “Always knew they’d be perfect. All those years of wondering.” He pulls back slightly, looking up at you with eyes gone dark with hunger. “Worth the wait.”
You want it too—want everything he’s willing to give you. “Please,” you whisper, your hands sliding up to tangle in his hair. “Please, ge ge.”
A smile curves his lips, slow and predatory. “Since you asked so nicely...”
With deliberate slowness, Caleb leans forward, his teeth catching on the neckline of your tank top. The wet heat of his mouth against your skin makes you gasp, your fingers tightening in his hair as he uses his teeth to tug the fabric down, revealing the top curve of one breast.
He doesn’t stop there, working the neckline lower and lower with a combination of his teeth, lips, and the occasional use of his tongue. Each new inch of skin exposed to the cool air is immediately warmed by his breath, his mouth, until finally the neckline has been pulled down enough to reveal both your nipples.
“Fuck,” Caleb breathes, his eyes fixed on your exposed flesh. “Even prettier than I imagined.”
Before you can respond, his mouth is on you—no teasing, no gradual build-up, just the wet heat of his tongue lapping at your left nipple while his hand comes up to squeeze your right breast. The sudden sensation draws a startled cry from your throat, your back arching to push your chest more firmly into his hands.
“Such sensitive tits,” Caleb murmurs against your skin, his tongue making another broad swipe across your nipple. “Getting so hard for me already.”
He’s right—your nipples have pebbled to tight points at the first touch of his mouth, aching for more contact. You find yourself nodding frantically, unable to form words as Caleb switches his attention to your other breast, his mouth moving to capture your right nipple while his hand takes over the left.
“That’s it,” he encourages as your hips rock forward of their own accord, seeking friction against the hard ridge of his cock beneath you. “Show me how much you like it. How much you need me.”
His free hand slides up to cup the back of your head, fingers tangling in your hair to guide your face toward his. You follow his lead without hesitation, your lips meeting his in a kiss that tastes of salt and musk.
Caleb’s tongue pushes into your mouth, mimicking the way his cock had pushed into your throat earlier in the week. You moan around the invasion, your own tongue rising to meet his in a dance that leaves you breathless.
When you finally break apart, gasping for air, Caleb doesn’t give you time to recover before returning to your breasts. But this time, he does something different—he releases his hold on you, using both hands to cup your breasts instead, pushing them together to create a valley between them.
“Fucking perfect,” he growls, his eyes fixed on the sight of your breasts in his hands. “Look at these tits, Pips. Made to be played with.”
To your shock, he gathers saliva in his mouth, then deliberately spits directly onto your exposed cleavage. The warm glob lands between your breasts, some dripping down toward your stomach while the rest coats your skin with a glistening sheen.
“Caleb!” you gasp, too surprised to be properly scandalized.
His only response is a wicked grin before he’s leaning down again, his tongue making a broad swipe through the spit he just deposited on your skin.
“Fuck, that’s good,” he murmurs against your flesh. “So sweet. So fucking perfect.”
His tongue makes another pass, this time focusing on your nipples, each one receiving a thorough licking before he pulls it between his lips, sucking firmly enough to make you gasp.
“Look at you,” Caleb says, his voice rough with arousal as he glances up at your face. “So fucking responsive. Just from playing with these pretty tits.”
He switches breasts, his mouth moving to the one his hand had been attending while his now-free hand squeezes the spit-slick flesh he just abandoned. “Imagine how you’ll react when I get my mouth somewhere else.”
“Please,” you whisper again, no longer caring how desperate you sound. “I need more, ge ge.”
“Mmm, I know you do,” Caleb agrees, finally releasing your breasts to wrap his arms around your waist again. His hands slide down to grip your ass, fingers digging into the soft flesh hard enough to leave marks. “Such a greedy little sister. Always wanting more than I give you.”
“Only because you make me feel so good,” you admit, your hands moving to frame his face, thumbs tracing the sharp cut of his cheekbones. “Can’t help wanting more.”
A slow smile spreads across his face at your words, pride and hunger mingling in his expression.
“That’s my good girl,” he praises, pressing a kiss to your palm. “Always so honest with me.”
His hands on your ass suddenly tighten, pulling you forward until you’re pressed flush against his chest. Your breasts, still exposed from your pushed-down tank top, make contact with the hard planes of his pectorals, your nipples rubbing against the fabric of his t-shirt.
“Fuck, feel that?” Caleb growls, his hips jerking upward so that his hardness presses directly against your core. “How wet you’re getting just from me playing with your tits?”
You nod, beyond words as you grind against him, seeking more of the friction your body craves. “Please,” you gasp again, the single word encompassing all your desperate wants. “Please, ge ge.”
While Caleb’s mouth continues its relentless assault on your breasts, his right hand suddenly breaks away, reaching up to grab your wrist. His purple eyes lock with yours, pupils blown wide with lust as he slowly, deliberately guides your hand toward his lap.
“Feel how hard you make me,” he murmurs against your sternum, his free hand still working your breast with practiced skill. “Just from playing with these perfect tits.”
Your palm makes contact with the thick ridge straining against his sweatpants, and you can’t help the gasp that escapes your lips. Even through the fabric, the heat of him is intense—like touching a living furnace. And there’s a damp spot where the tip of his cock has leaked enough precum to soak through the thin material.
“So wet for you,” Caleb continues, voice rough with need as he guides your hand to rub up and down his length. “Always so fucking hard and leaking whenever I’m around you. Hasn’t changed since we were kids.”
“Wanted you for so fucking long,” Caleb admits, his lips moving from your breast to your neck, teeth grazing the sensitive skin beneath your ear. “Every night, lying in bed, thinking about touching you. About you touching me.”
His words make your core clench, another gush of wetness soaking your panties as you continue to rub his cock through his sweatpants. The fabric is growing damper by the second, evidence of just how much he wants you.
“Please,” you whisper, your hand trembling slightly against him. “Can I touch you for real?”
A dark smile curves his lips, satisfaction evident in his expression as he finally gives in to your pleading. With his free hand, he reaches down to the waistband of his sweatpants, tugging it down just enough to free his cock.
“I’ve been dreaming about this,” Caleb says, his voice dropping to that rough register that makes your stomach flip. “Your hand on my cock. Finally giving my little sister what she’s been begging for.”
The first touch of skin on skin draws a groan from deep in his chest, his eyes closing briefly as your fingers make contact with his cock.
He’s even hotter than you expected, the skin velvety soft over the steel-hard shaft beneath. And he’s so wet—precum already coating the head and upper shaft, making your hand slide easily along his length.
“Fuck,” Caleb hisses, his hand tightening around yours as you experimentally stroke up toward the tip. “Your hand feels so fucking good, Pips. So small and soft.”
He’s right—your hand is comically small compared to his cock, your fingers unable to fully wrap around his girth. You’d need both hands to properly encircle him, and even then, your grip would be loose.
“Look at that,” Caleb murmurs, his eyes fixed on where your hand disappears around his shaft. “Your tiny hand can barely hold my cock. Always knew you were made small, but fuck, seeing it like this...”
He guides your hand in another stroke, this one starting at the base and working all the way to the tip, where a fresh bead of precum is already forming. “That’s it,” he encourages as your thumb brushes over the sensitive head. “Get me nice and wet for you.”
As you continue to stroke him, Caleb’s mouth returns to your neck, teeth grazing the sensitive skin where your pulse jumps beneath the surface. You know what he’s doing—leaving marks, staking his claim—but you don’t care. You let him mark you. Let everyone know exactly who you belong to.
“That’s my good girl,” he praises against your throat, his lips moving to a new spot just below your collarbone. “Taking such good care of my cock.”
His mouth latches onto your skin, sucking hard enough to leave a mark—the first of what will undoubtedly be many by the time he’s done with you. The slight pain mingles with pleasure, your hand moving faster on his cock as he continues his possessive assault on your neck and chest.
“Caleb,” you gasp as his teeth scrape over a particularly sensitive spot. “Feels so good.”
“Mmm, I know it does,” he agrees, pulling back to admire the darkening bruise he’s left on your skin. “You like being marked up? Like everyone knowing you belong to me?”
You nod frantically, too far gone in pleasure to be embarrassed by your eagerness. “Yes. Please, ge ge. More.”
His smile turns predatory as he lowers his head again, this time targeting the upper curve of your breast. “Gonna cover you in marks,” he promises, lips brushing against your skin with each word. “Gonna make sure you remember who you belong to every time you look in the mirror.”
As his mouth works its magic on your skin, his hips begin to move, rocking up to meet each downward stroke of your hand. The rhythm is intoxicating—his cock sliding through your grip, his mouth leaving a trail of pleasure across your chest, his free hand squeezing your ass to guide your movements against him.
“That’s it,” Caleb encourages, his breathing growing ragged as your hand moves faster. “Just like that, mei mei. Show me how badly you want to make your big brother feel good.”
“Fuck, you’re so fucking wet,” Caleb groans, his hand sliding from your ass to between your legs, fingers pressing against your soaked panties. “Just from touching my cock? Such a greedy little slut.”
Each pass of your palm over the slit gathers more precum, making your strokes slicker, smoother.
“Right there,” Caleb hisses when your thumb brushes a particular spot on the underside of his head. “Fuck, that’s perfect.”
You focus your attention there, making sure each stroke includes that sweet spot. The effect is immediate—Caleb’s head falls back, a groan tearing from his throat as his hips jerk upward more forcefully.
“Gonna make me cum if you keep that up,” he warns, though there’s no real concern in his voice—just anticipation and hunger. “You want that, Pips? Want to feel me shoot all over your hand?”
“Yes,” you gasp, your own need making you bold. “Please, ge ge. Want to feel you cum.”
His free hand suddenly grips your hair, pulling your head back to expose your throat to his hungry mouth. “Such a good little cocksucker,” he praises against your skin, his teeth grazing your pulse point. “Taking such good care of me.”
The wet sounds of your hand sliding along his cock fill the room, obscene and thrilling.
“That’s it,” Caleb encourages, his voice rough with arousal. “Just like that. Show me how much you love your big brother’s cock.”
You’ve never done this before—never touched a man like this, never felt the power of reducing someone to desperate moans with just your hand. But instinct guides you, your body responding to Caleb’s reactions, learning what makes him groan, what makes his hips jerk, what makes his fingers dig into your flesh hard enough to leave marks.
“So fucking good,” Caleb gasps as you twist your wrist slightly on the upstroke, adding a new sensation to your rhythm. “Your perfect little hand on my cock. Been dreaming about this for years.”
How many nights has he spent wanting you? How many fantasies has he built around the two of you?
“Did you touch yourself thinking about me?” you ask, your voice barely above a whisper. “While I was sleeping down the hall?”
Caleb’s eyes darken further, his hand in your hair tightening almost painfully. “Every fucking night,” he admits, no shame in his voice—just raw hunger. “Stroking my cock to thoughts of you. Wondering if you’d be as tight as I imagined. If you’d take my whole length or if I’d have to go slow.”
His words paint vivid pictures in your mind—Caleb alone in his room, hand wrapped around his cock, imagining you spread open beneath him. The thought of him wanting you for so long, of him corrupting himself with thoughts of his little sister, makes your hand tremble against his length.
“Fuck, the way you’re looking at me right now,” Caleb groans, his free hand coming up to cup your cheek. “Like you’re finally seeing what I am. What I’ve always been.”
“A pervert,” you say, but there’s no judgment in your voice—just acceptance and a hint of pride that you’re the object of his obsession. “My pervert.”
Something flashes in his eyes—probably relief, gratitude, or maybe hunger—before his mouth crashes against yours in a kiss that’s more possession than passion. His tongue pushes past your lips, claiming your mouth as thoroughly as his cock claims your hand.
When you finally break apart, both gasping for breath, Caleb’s hand returns to guide your movements on his cock. “Not gonna last much longer if you keep that up,” he warns, though the smile on his face makes it clear he has no intention of stopping you. “Too fucking good with those hands, Pips.”
“Then don’t last,” you challenge, emboldened by his reactions. “Cum for me, ge ge. Show me how good I make you feel.”
His response is a groan so deep it seems to come from the center of his chest, his hips jerking upward to fuck into your grip. “Fuck, when you talk like that...” He shakes his head, seemingly unable to complete the thought.
You take his reaction as encouragement, your hand moving faster, grip tightening slightly as you focus on the sensitive head of his cock. Each downward stroke ends with your thumb brushing over the slit, gathering the copious precum there to ease your movements.
“Right there,” Caleb hisses, his free hand squeezing your ass hard enough to leave bruises. “Fuck, that’s perfect. Just like that, Pips. Don’t stop.”
His praise fuels your determination, your hand establishing a rhythm that has his breathing growing more ragged by the second. You can feel him getting harder, the veins along his shaft standing out more prominently as blood rushes to his cock.
“Gonna cum,” he warns, his voice breaking on the words. “Fuck, Y/N, I’m gonna—“
His warning cuts off in a groan as his cock pulses in your hand, the first jet of cum shooting up to land on his stomach. You don’t stop, your hand continuing to stroke him through his orgasm, milking every drop from his sensitive flesh.
“That’s it,” you encourage, watching in fascination as more cum spills over your fingers. “Give me everything, ge ge.”
Caleb’s head falls back, a guttural sound tearing from his throat as his hips continue to jerk upward, chasing the pleasure your hand provides. More cum spills from the tip of his cock, some landing on his stomach, some coating your hand, making your strokes even slicker.
“Fuck, Pips,” he gasps when the worst of the tremors have passed, his hand covering yours to slow your movements. “Too sensitive.”
You reluctantly ease your grip, though you don’t release his cock entirely. Instead, you continue to hold him, feeling the gradual softening of his flesh, the occasional aftershock that makes him twitch in your hand.
“Was it good?” you ask, suddenly shy despite the fact that you’re literally holding his softening cock in your hand.
Caleb’s laugh is warm, tinged with the slight breathlessness of post-orgasmic bliss.
“Was it good?” he repeats, reaching up to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear with surprising tenderness. “Fuck, mei mei. That was beyond good.” He shakes his head, apparently unable to find the right words.
Caleb’s hand between your legs stills suddenly, his eyes widening slightly as he feels just how soaked you’ve become. His lips curve into a slow, predatory smile as his fingers press more firmly against your panties, gathering evidence of your arousal on the fabric.
“Holy fuck, Pips,” he murmurs, voice rough with renewed desire despite his recent orgasm. “You’re absolutely drowning down here.”
You shift your hips, seeking more pressure from his hand, but Caleb keeps his touch teasingly light. “Please,” you whisper, beyond pride now. “I need more.”
His smile turns wicked as he leans forward, his mouth brushing against your ear. “You need to keep working my cock,” he instructs, his free hand guiding yours back to his softening length.
While your hand works his length, his free hand returns to between your legs. But instead of pressing against your panties as before, his fingers slide beneath the elastic waistband of your panties, slipping underneath to make direct contact with you.
“Fuck,” Caleb groans, his eyes closing briefly as his fingers make contact with your cunt. “Even wetter than I thought.”
“Look at you, getting so fucking wet just from touching my cock. What would people say if they knew what a slut you are for your brother’s dick?”
“Please,” you gasp as his finger makes a slow, deliberate pass through your slit, gathering your wetness on his skin. “Need more, ge ge.”
“Patience,” Caleb chides, though the strain in his voice betrays how affected he is by your eagerness. “Good things come to those who wait.”
Despite his words, his finger makes another pass, this time circling your entrance without pushing inside. The tease is maddening—so close to what you need but not quite giving it to you.
“Caleb,” you whine, your hips shifting to try to force his finger inside. “Please.”
His response is to lean forward, capturing your mouth in a kiss that’s more possession than passion. His tongue pushes past your lips, claiming your mouth as thoroughly as his cock claims your hand. When he finally pulls back, both of you are breathing hard, a strand of saliva connecting your lips for a moment before breaking.
“Since you asked so nicely,” he murmurs, his finger finally pushing forward to breach your entrance.
The sudden intrusion draws a gasp from your throat, your inner walls clenching around the single digit as it slides inside you. You’re so wet that there’s no resistance, just the delicious stretch of being filled, even if it’s only by one finger.
“Fuck,” Caleb breathes, his eyes fixed on where his finger disappears into your body. “So fucking tight around me. Like your pussy was made to take my cock.”
“More,” you beg, your hand still working his cock but your attention now entirely focused on the point where your bodies connect. “Please, ge ge. I need more.”
Caleb shakes his head, a smile playing at the corners of his mouth. “Greedy little thing, aren’t you? Not even giving me a chance to enjoy this before demanding more.”
Despite his teasing, his finger begins to move, establishing a slow, deliberate rhythm as it pushes deeper with each thrust. Your inner walls flutter around the intrusion, your hips rocking to meet each forward push.
“That’s it,” Caleb encourages, his free hand coming up to cup your breast through your pushed-down tank top. “Take it. Show me how much you love having part of me inside you.”
His finger curls slightly as it pushes deep, the new angle allowing him to press against your front wall. The change draws a startled cry from your throat, your back arching as pleasure shoots up your spine.
“There it is,” Caleb murmurs, satisfaction evident in his voice as he focuses his attention on that spot. “Your sweet spot. The place that makes my perfect little sister lose her mind.”
He’s right—each press against that bundle of nerves sends electricity racing through your system, making your thighs tremble and your breath catch.
“Fuck,” you gasp as he adds a second finger, the stretch immediate and intense despite your abundant wetness. “Caleb, that’s—oh god—“
“Too much?” he asks, though he makes no move to withdraw. Instead, his fingers remain still inside you, giving your body time to adjust to the increased fullness.
You shake your head frantically. Relief flashes across his features, quickly replaced by hunger as he begins to move both fingers in tandem.
“Look at you,” Caleb murmurs, his eyes fixed on where his fingers disappear into your body. “Taking two of my fingers like you were made for it. So fucking perfect.”
“Caleb,” you gasp, your free hand flying to his shoulder, fingers digging into the hard muscle there as you seek an anchor in the storm of sensation. “I’m close. So close.”
“Already?” he asks, surprise evident in his voice despite the satisfaction coloring his tone. “Just from my fingers? Such a sensitive little thing.”
He doesn’t ease up—if anything, his movements become more deliberate, more focused on that spot deep inside you that makes your vision blur. His thumb finds your clit, circling the sensitive bundle of nerves.
“That’s it,” he encourages as your breathing grows more ragged, your hips rocking to meet each thrust of his fingers. “Cum for me, mei mei. Show me how good your big brother makes you feel.”
“Caleb,” you warn, your voice breaking as pleasure threatens to overwhelm you. “I’m gonna—“
“Let go,” he commands, his free hand coming up to grip your chin, forcing you to meet his gaze. “I want to see it. Want to watch your face when you cum on my fingers.”
The order is the final push you need—the tension breaks, pleasure crashing through you in waves that make your entire body convulse. Your inner walls clamp down on his invading fingers, your back arching sharply as your climax tears a cry from your throat.
“Fuck,” Caleb breathes, his eyes wide with wonder as he watches you come apart. “So fucking beautiful like this. Taking my fingers so well. Cumming all over my hand like the perfect little slut you are.”
You’re dimly aware of your hand still wrapped around his cock, though your movements have grown erratic, uncoordinated as your focus narrows to the point where his fingers fill you.
“That’s it,” Caleb encourages, his fingers continuing their relentless assault on your sweet spot even as your inner walls pulse around them. “Give me everything. Show me how much you love having your brother’s hand inside you.”
When the final pulses of your orgasm begin to fade, Caleb slowly withdraws his fingers, bringing them to his mouth with deliberate slowness. His eyes never leave yours as he sucks your release from his skin, humming appreciatively at the taste.
“Sweet,” he murmurs, voice rough with renewed desire. “Just like I knew you’d be.”
As your orgasm begins to fade, you turn your attention back to Caleb’s cock, still hard and pulsing in your grip. You notice immediately how your movements affect him—each stroke drawing a different reaction, teaching you what he likes, what drives him wild.
A firm upstroke makes his breath catch; a twist of your wrist on the downstroke has his hips jerking forward; a thumb circling the sensitive head draws a groan from deep in his chest. It’s like learning a new language—one written in the tensing of muscles and the catching of breath.
“Fuck,” he hisses, his free hand flying to your wrist as if to stop you, though he makes no actual move to pull you away. “Jesus Christ, Pips. Warn a guy.”
“Did I hurt you?” you ask, concern momentarily overriding your arousal.
Caleb’s laugh is strained, his eyes dark with a hunger that borders on desperation. “No,” he assures you, his thumb brushing across your pulse point in a gesture that’s oddly tender given the obscene situation. “Quite the opposite.”
“Please,” you whisper, your hand moving faster, grip tightening further. “I want to see it, ge ge. Want to see what you’re really like when you stop holding back.”
Encouraged by his reaction, you shift your focus to the head of his cock, your thumb brushing over the sensitive slit where precum continues to bead. The change in technique has an immediate effect—Caleb’s entire body goes taut, a strangled sound escaping his throat as his head falls back.
“That’s it,” you encourage, circling the ridge where head meets shaft with deliberate attention. “Show me how much you like it.”
A drop of saliva escapes the corner of Caleb’s mouth, trailing down his chin before he can catch it with his tongue.
“Fuck,” Caleb gasps, clearly embarrassed by his loss of control even as another drop forms at the corner of his mouth. “Sorry, I—“
“Don’t you dare apologize,” you interrupt, your hand moving faster on his cock. “It’s hot. So fucking hot to see you like this.”
Caleb’s hand returns to between your legs. But this time, there’s a new urgency to his touch—his fingers pushing into your entrance with less finesse than before, driven by the desperate need your hand on his cock has awakened.
“Too much?” he asks, though he makes no move to ease his pace, his fingers establishing a rhythm that has your inner walls fluttering around the intrusion.
You shake your head frantically. “No. God, no. It’s perfect. Just like that, ge ge.”
“Caleb,” you gasp, your hand moving faster on his cock as pleasure threatens to overwhelm you. “You look so... fuck, I can’t even...”
He seems to understand without further explanation, a dark smile curving his lips as he watches your struggle for words. “This what you wanted to see?” he asks, his free hand coming up to frame your face with surprising tenderness. “Your big brother completely losing his mind over you?”
You nod frantically, beyond words now as his fingers find that spot deep inside you that makes stars burst behind your eyelids. “Yes,” you manage between gasps. “Please, ge ge. More.”
His smile turns wicked as he leans forward, his breath hot against your ear. “Since you asked so nicely.”
Without warning, he adds a third finger, pushing it alongside the two already buried inside you. The stretch is immediate and intense, drawing a startled cry from your throat as your inner walls struggle to accommodate the increased fullness.
“Fuck, ride them,” Caleb encourages, his free hand coming to rest on your hip, guiding your movements. “Show me how much you love having your brother’s hand inside you.”
You follow his direction without hesitation, your hips beginning to rock against his hand, taking his fingers deeper with each downward movement. The change in angle allows him to reach spots his previous technique missed, sending fresh waves of pleasure crashing through your system.
“That’s it,” Caleb praises, satisfaction evident in his voice as he watches your face. “Use my hand however you need. Take what you want from me.”
“Caleb,” you warn, your voice breaking as tension builds at the base of your spine. “I’m gonna cum.”
“Let me feel it,” he demands, his voice rough with need. “Cum on my fingers, Pips. Show me how good your big brother makes you feel.”
Your inner walls clamp down on his invading fingers, your back arching sharply as your climax tears a cry from your throat.
“Fuck,” Caleb breathes, his eyes widening with wonder as he watches you come apart. “So fucking beautiful like this. Taking my fingers so well.”
He doesn’t ease up—if anything, his movements become more deliberate, more focused on that spot deep inside you that extends your pleasure with each careful press. More wetness gushes from your core, coating his hand and making obscene, wet sounds that fill the room.
“Can feel you cumming,” Caleb groans, his voice strained with his own need. “So fucking tight around my fingers. So wet for me.”
Caleb grabs your wrist, stopping your strokes. His eyes, dark with hunger, lock with yours as he brings your cum-slicked hand to his cock, using your combined fluids to coat his length.
“Fuck,” he groans, his head falling back as your slick palm makes contact with his sensitive flesh. “So fucking wet. Your perfect little pussy making my cock all nice and slick.”
“Want to feel your hand milking every drop from my cock while I watch that pretty face.” Caleb admits, his voice rough with need.
“Going to cum,” Caleb warns, his voice breaking on the words. “Fuck, Y/N, I’m gonna—“
His warning cuts off in a groan as his cock pulses in your grip, the first jet of cum shooting up to land on his stomach. You don’t stop, your hand continuing to stroke him through his orgasm, milking every drop from his sensitive flesh.
“That’s it,” you encourage, watching in fascination as more cum spills over your fingers. “Give me everything, ge ge.”
Caleb’s head falls back, a guttural sound tearing from his throat as his hips continue to jerk upward, chasing the pleasure your hand provides. More cum spills from the tip of his cock, some landing on his stomach, some coating your hand, making your strokes even slicker.
“Fuck, Pips,” he gasps when the worst of the tremors have passed, though he makes no move to stop your hand. Instead, he tightens his grip, guiding your movements to a slower, more deliberate pace. “Too sensitive. Too good.”
You ease your grip slightly, though you don’t release his cock entirely. Instead, you continue to hold him, feeling the gradual softening of his flesh, the occasional aftershock that makes him twitch in your hand.
“That’s it,” Caleb murmurs, his voice taking on that rough, satisfied edge that only emerges after intense pleasure. “Keep going. Milk every last drop.”
To your shock, he’s not done—despite the copious amount of cum already coating your hand and his stomach, more continues to spill from the tip of his cock with each downward stroke. It’s like he’s been saving up for this moment, his body producing more than seems physically possible.
“Holy shit,” you breathe, eyes wide as you watch another thick rope of cum join the mess on his abdomen. “How are you still—“
Caleb’s laugh is warm, tinged with the slight breathlessness of post-orgasmic bliss. “Told you,” he says, his free hand coming up to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear with surprising tenderness. “Only for you, Pips. My body knows exactly who it belongs to.”
As if reading your thoughts, Caleb’s smile turns wicked. “Now,” he says, his voice dropping to that dangerous register that makes your stomach flip, “about this mess.”
Before you can ask what he means, he’s capturing your cum-covered hand, bringing it to his lips. But instead of cleaning it himself, he guides it to your mouth, his eyes never leaving yours as he pushes your fingers between your lips.
“Clean up,” he instructs, his thumb brushing your lower lip. “Show me how much you love the taste of us together.”
The command should shock you, should make you pull away in disgust. Instead, you find yourself obeying without hesitation, your tongue making a broad swipe across your palm to collect a drop of the mixed fluids there.
The taste is complex—bitter and sweet, musky and tangy, neither purely his nor purely yours but something new created from the combination. It should be disgusting. It’s not. It’s intoxicating, addictive—like the man currently watching you with hungry eyes.
“Fuck,” Caleb breathes, his eyes darkening as he watches your tongue work between your fingers. “Look at you, taking it so well. Such a good girl for me.”
His praise fuels your determination, your tongue making another pass, this one focused on cleaning between your fingers where the evidence of your shared pleasure has collected. You work methodically, making sure no drop is wasted, no spot untouched.
When your hand is mostly clean, Caleb captures your wrist again, guiding your still-damp fingers to his chest where a large glob of cum has landed. “Here too,” he instructs, his voice rough with renewed desire. “Can’t let any go to waste, can we?”
You follow his direction without hesitation, leaning down to lap at the mess on his chest. Your tongue makes a broad swipe through the puddle, gathering the thick, white fluid and swallowing it with deliberate slowness.
“That’s it,” Caleb encourages, his hand coming to rest on the back of your head, fingers threading through your hair with surprising gentleness. “Such a perfect little cleaner. Always so eager to please your big brother.”
You continue your careful cleaning, moving from his chest to his stomach, making sure no drop of his release goes untouched. Each new area presents a new challenge—the flat plane of his abdomen, the sensitive skin just above the waistband of his sweatpants, the trail of dark hair leading downward from his navel.
Throughout it all, Caleb watches with hungry eyes, his breathing growing more ragged as your tongue works its magic on his skin.
By the time you’ve cleaned the last visible drop, his cock is beginning to harden again, the tip emerging from the foreskin as blood rushes back to fill it.
“Fuck,” he groans, his hand tightening in your hair as your mouth hovers just inches from his now-half-hard length. “You’re going to be the death of me, Pips.”
You smile against his skin, pressing a kiss to the sensitive spot just below his navel. “Only if you’re lucky, ge ge.”
His laugh is warm, tinged with the slight breathlessness of post-orgasmic bliss. “Always so fucking mouthy,” he says, but there’s no heat in the words—just fond exasperation and a hunger that never seems to fully abate. “Even with my cum on your tongue.”
You sit back on your heels, suddenly aware of just how obscene the situation is—you on your knees between your brother’s legs, his cum on your tongue, his cock still exposed from his pushed-down sweatpants.
“Was it good?” you ask again, unable to keep the smug satisfaction from your voice.
“What now?” you ask, suddenly uncertain despite the intensity of what just transpired between you. Are you done? Is this all he wanted from you? The thought sends a pang of disappointment through your chest.
As if reading your mind, Caleb’s expression softens, his hand sliding from your cheek to cup the back of your neck. “Now,” he says, his voice taking on that gentle tone reserved just for you, “we rest.”
You little brother just doesn't know any better. Or does he?
cw: pseudo!incest but actually real bone i think now, didi caleb/jiejie mc, dub!con/non!con, jealous paranoid unhinged caleb, pussy inspection, just the tip, xav sort of appears again hence the previous, choking (not the sexy kind), emotional blackmail, soft launch of caleb's mommy complex/kink, mc should not have been the one raising caleb,
Caleb tries to calm you down in the days that follow. He keeps insisting that it isn’t a big deal, and that the girl hadn’t heard much. That she was just pissed off that she couldn’t get him off and he had to do it himself in her bathroom.
But you know better. You have seen the comments spreading across the DAA’s social media platforms like wildfire immediately after that night. The posts featuring Caleb in his flight gear looking like a movie star as he stands in front of his aircraft went from being flooded with smitten comments and endless praise for the handsome young pilot to questions and mocking remarks about his suspected incestous tendencies.
Is that the guy who gets off to his sister?
He’s so hot, but don’t bother. Total siscon.
Isn’t his sister older than him? Wonder what she did to him to make him turn out this way.
I’ve heard he jerks off to his sister. Is that true?
Why are all the hot ones such freaks?
So this is why he can’t stay with a girl for more than two dates. She gotta be related to him or his dick goes limp lmao
I’ve met his sister before. She basically plans his entire life for him. Poor guy.
Heard she literally called him in the middle of sex because she was jealous he was with someone else. What a psycho.
Damn, she must be insanely hot if he’s that obsessed. Anyone got a picture of her?
Though the comments only stay up for a few moments before they’re scrubbed clean, with the posters receiving warnings from the faculty about spreading harmful rumors, they still send you spiraling. Not just for Caleb who still doesn’t seem to understand the gravity of the situation despite this shitstorm, but for yourself too. People are asking questions about you, their curiosity to know more about this older sister that has fractured the image of the DAA golden boy is dangerous. If any of this leaks beyond the academy and reaches your coworkers at the Hunter’s Association, your job could be in jeopardy. The thought alone makes your blood run cold.
Caleb tries to tell you that none of it means anything and that it will all blow over soon. It fucking drives you up the wall. How can he still downplay the severity of the situation? People know now! Your lives could be ruined forever! What will it take for him to finally get it?
But to your shock and utter disbelief, he’s mostly right.
After the initial flood, the comments taper off. The deletions and warnings do their job. What remains are only occasional stray remarks here and there, quickly dealt with. Caleb has no shortage of admirers, and they quickly take over the narrative, painting him as the victim of haters who can’t compete with him, can’t have him, or are simply jealous of him.
Soon, the tide shifts back in his favor and his fans fawn over him even more for oh-so-bravely weathering this hate campaign.
Caleb relays all of it to you in the hopes of convincing you that it’s all over now, but you know better. You know these things never truly die. You know people are still talking about you, just amongst themselves and behind his back. But he doesn’t care. If anything it’s as if the idea of it spurs him on. He doesn’t shy away from mentioning you. He talks about you even more openly now, daring anyone to question him. Nobody does. And his college life carries on as usual.
But you can’t do the same.
Those comments were only a taste of what your life could become if your secret is found out. You would spend the rest of your days plagued by judgment and suspicion, even if no one ever learns the full truth—that seed of doubt is like a weed, once its roots have dug in, it’s impossible to get rid of.
If this ever breaches the confines of campus gossip and gets into the real world, would you be able to hold on to the few friends you've managed to make for the first time in your life? If Tara or Simone hear about this, what will they think of you? Will they understand why you’ve had to do it or will they absolve themselves of you? Will you be able to find a partner? How would anyone tolerate such rumors about their lover? Especially when all they need is to take one look at how Caleb behaves around you for all their suspicions to be confirmed?
Yet despite it all, you know you can’t solely blame Caleb for this. You know this mess is as much your fault as it is his. You should have told him no that night. You should have ended the call as soon as you realized where he was and what he was doing. But you were hurt, your pride was wounded, and some ugly, starved part of you had wanted to be wanted so badly, you were blinded by it.
But it’s not just that. You shouldn’t have started any of this in the first place. The problem is, you can’t even pinpoint when it truly began. Agreeing to jerk him off that first time had pushed the floodgates wide open, but the water had been rising long before then. He had told you as much. Had it started in your teenage years? In childhood? Had the current always been there inside him, waiting to sweep you under? Or had you been the one slowly feeding it, drop by drop, until it could no longer be contained?
Your thoughts rise and churn, turning more tumultuous by the day, and yet Caleb isn’t the slightest bit phased. Once the worst of the storm had passed and he was still standing tall, he stopped trying to calm you. His tone shifted from flippant reassurance to reckless excitement, maybe even triumph.
“See, jie?” He says happily, pulling you into his arms with a bright smile. “Even if they know about us, nothing bad will happen. We can be together. No one will stop us. I’ll make sure of it.”
Your stomach drops. Nothing bad will happen? Is being ostracised as incesteous freaks nothing bad? Is the chance of losing any existing or potential meaningful relationship outside of each other nothing bad? Is spending the rest of your life whispered about, judged, and isolated nothing bad?
“I don’t want that, Caleb.” You answer in frustration. This is not what he’s supposed to learn from this. He’s meant to realise how wrong this is and snap out of it, not grow bolder in his delusions. “I don’t want to live a taboo life. I don’t want people smiling to my face and cursing me behind my back.”
“So this is what it’s really about, huh?” His tone turns accusatory. “It’s not about me or what’s best for me. You’re just ashamed of what being with me will bring.”
And so what? Are you not allowed to not want to be a pariah? Is that such a terrible thing to him? Must you throw everyone and everything else away to make him happy? You would lay your life down for him in heartbeat, but to be forced to live in ridicule and isolation… that may be too much for you to bear, even for your precious didi.
“It’s about both of us.” You snap back defensively, “You’re fine with this now, smug even, but how long are you going to tolerate being ridiculed? Being abhorred? Having everyone look at you like you’re some disgusting freak?”
“Forever.” He says without hesitation, his gaze burning into yours. “As long as I get to have you.”
Guilt wells up in you at his simple answer. You hate yourself once for making your little brother this way, and twice for then not being strong enough, or selfless enough, to sacrifice everything for him the way he wishes you would.
But this is for him. He may think he wants this now, but years down the line he will come to resent you. He will see everything he’s lost—all the love, relationships, and community he could have had, and he will hate you for it. And then neither of you will have anyone else to turn to. Your anger and bitterness will build and build until you—
You rub your forehead, a pounding headache throbbing behind your eyes. “I don’t have time for this. I need to get ready for my work social.”
“Then let me come with you.” He springs up quickly.
“No.” You hiss at him with all the ferocity of a cornered kitten. “This is my work, Caleb. I can’t let you fuck it up.”
He regards you with offense, his jaw tightening. “You think I did it on purpose? I wouldn’t have even been there if you hadn’t forced me to do it under the threat of leaving me!”
“Oh, cry me a river, Caleb.” You retort, your frustration and guilt making you more unkind than you’d ever wish to be to your baby brother. “You could have controlled yourself until the next day. But that’s impossible for you, isn’t it? Golden boy Caleb can’t go a single day without getting off to his big sister.”
He barks out a bitter laugh. “I controlled myself my entire life living around you while you were flaunting your tits and ass in my face.”
You flush hot, the emotions burning through you so fierce they all meld together, kicking your instincts into overdrive. Here he goes giving voice to your worst fears again—It's all your fault. You did this. You've broken him and now you can't fix him. Dammit, why won't he let you fix him?
“Well, if you were fucking normal, you wouldn’t have been looking!” You lash out at him in your frenzy.
“Normal?” He breathes out with a strained smile. “What am I then, jiejie? A freak? A disgusting pervert? Is that how you see me?”
The fire in you wanes and almost gutters out. “No, baby, you know that’s not what I meant—”
“But the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree, jie.”
You flinch back. “What is that supposed to mean?”
“If I’m a freak, what does that make you, jiejie?” His smile turns cruel.
“Don't.” You warn shakily. You can't handle this right now, but Caleb doesn’t stop pushing.
“You’re the one who raised me.” He says it like he’s delivering your sentence.
“Stop it, Caleb.” You bite out, voice rising with panic.
“What kind of sister lets her brother sneak into her bed at night?”
“You were having nightmares.” You justify yourself. What’s wrong with providing your baby brother comfort? Maybe it was more intimate than what most other siblings would have done but how could you have been expected to turn away his scared little face?
“What kind of sister helps her brother shower into his teens?” He counters, and your breath hitches. Your defense sounds more tenuous this time. “You refused to clean up after basketball unless I helped you!”
He cocks his head to the side, and his teeth glint like fangs within his gleeful smile. “What kind of sister lets her baby brother suck on her tits?”
You feel yourself choke. The memories come flooding back unbidden. You had almost forgotten all about that, blocked those memories out of your psyche for the sake of your sanity, and hoped the years had stolen his away too. But the world isn't so kind, and neither is Caleb.
You… you had both been so young. You weren’t sure what you were doing. You didn’t know the first thing about caring for yourself, let alone a baby brother. All you knew was that Caleb was prone to anxious fits. He would cry and cry sometimes over the littlest things. You knew from a young age that the only way to shut him up was to give him something to occupy his mouth. You’d witnessed it in the way he would suck at his own thumb, soothing himself despite your grandma's discouragement. He had been much too old for that even back then, but he never outgrew it, perhaps because as a baby he never got to experience the comforts that only a mother can provide, and he had to make do with what he's got—Josephine who was too old to give him what he needs and you who were too young to know what that was.
For a long while he had contended himself with his self-soothing, but as he grew older and his world filled up with more than just you and your grandma, there were more things to stress him out—fear of failing a class, or losing a game, or someone else stealing your attention from him…
And suddenly he didn’t know what to do with himself anymore. His thumb was a poor substitute for the nurture he needed. In his frustration, he started biting down on the digit, and pulling at his nail, trying in vain to calm himself down. When you had seen that first drop of blood, you’d panicked, replacing his finger with yours, and braced for the pain. But it never came. He didn’t bite you. Instead he sucked on your finger gently, and slowly settled down.
You should have stopped there but the way he had looked at you then, like you were the solace he had been seeking, had you doing it again and again. For a long time, it worked like a charm, though you had to do it behind your grandma’s back after she scolded you harshly the first and only time she caught you doing it.
Until you started middle school and had to leave him behind to go to a different school. He fell into one of his fits again, worse than any you’d ever seen, and neither your fingers, nor endless promises of walking him to school, picking him up, and spending every after-school hour and weekend with him could calm him down.
Caleb had cried so hard, his face had turned red and his tears had gone dry, yet he still wouldn’t stop. You held him in your arms and rocked him for what felt like hours with no relief. His tears and saliva had soaked completely through your shirt when his listless mouth found one of your nipples through the fabric and latched on. Suddenly, he had quieted down, distracted with his desperate, hungry suckling as if he’d be able to pull something out of you if he tried hard enough. You would have said something—you should have said something—but he had cried so much, he had worn both of you out and you were just happy that you’ve finally managed to make it better. So you just held him close, stroking his hair and whispering that everything would be okay until he finally went to sleep.
For some time after that, it became your well-kept secret, your last ditch solution to calm him down, the only thing that could soothe his anxious fits when all else failed—though he had tried many times to get under your shirt at the smallest inconvenience or upset.
Deep down, you always knew it was wrong. That's why you made sure your grandma never found out about it. The shame had burned hot in your chest even then. But it worked so well! He always became so calm, sweet, and obedient in your arms whenever you allowed it to him. He listened to you. He went to school. He did his homework. He attended his practice. It was like your secret weapon, and you used it more often than you’d like to admit.
You only stopped when one day he had sighed into your chest and said something unthinkable.
“You knew what you were doing.” Caleb scoffs, “You made me this way… mommy.”
Your hand flies up before your mind can catch up. Your palm meets his cheek with a loud smack, his head snapping to the side from the force. For half a second, he stands there frozen, head tilted to the side, a red mark blooming on his cheek. Then his head whips back around and he surges forward, kissing you hungrily, almost violently, as if he’s avenging himself.
You push at his chest, trying to shove him away, but he’s stronger than you and it takes everything in you to get him off. His knees hit the bed as you push him back, and he topples onto it. You try to step back, but before you can escape, his arms fly out and grab onto you, pulling you on top of him on the bed.
“I am exactly how you raised me, jiejie.” He tells you miserably, “Why are you running away from me?”
You slap a hand over his mouth to silence him, but he opens his mouth and kisses your palm filthily. “Stop it.” You demand, almost pleadingly, but he ignores you, grabbing your hips and pushing you down against his hard cock.
“This is what you’ve always done, Caleb.” You hiss down at him bitterly, “You never let me say no. You keep pushing and pushing until I give you what you want.”
He moans against your palm, as if proud of his doing, and his hips roll up again, rubbing his hard cock against you shamelessly.
“Are you listening to me?” You ask desperately, begging to be heard, but he just stares up at you with heavy, needy eyes—wanting, wanting so much from you, always wanting.
“Fucking listen to me!” You snap, anger and despair taking hold of you, awakening your darkest thoughts and giving them grotesque shape. They puppeteer your body, making you surge forward and wrap your hands around his throat.
For one terrible second you feel relief as he finally stops, his eyes flying wide open in shock. You’ve done it. He’s finally looking at you. He’s finally listening to you.
“Jiejie?” He chokes out, and the vibrations of his voice, of the air struggling to pass through his windpipe, shock some sense into you. You blink and the haze of fury melts away to reveal your baby brother’s face, and what you see there—shock, worry, confusion, fear—smothers every tendril of rage licking up your body, freeing you from its murderous blaze.
You fling yourself away from him and stumble to your feet with a horrified gasp, your hand burning where it had just gripped his neck.
“I need to go.” You wheeze, your entire body shaking. But Caleb stops you, his fingers locking around your wrist as he too rises, chasing after you like a moth to flame. “Take me with you.”
“I already told you no.” You tell him raggedly. Please, please, get away from me. Just this once.
“I won’t make a scene, I promise.” He begs pitifully, still seeking comfort in you despite the unforgivable pain you've inflicted. “Please… I can’t be alone right now. Not after this…” His hand drifts up to touch the sides of his neck where your fingers had been moments ago. “I’m scared, jie.”
You heave in a choked cry and reach out to cradle his face in your hands, your knees buckling when he flinches ever so slightly.
“I would never hurt you.” You vow, guilt strangling you the same way you'd strangled your baby brother. “You know that. You just… frustrate me so much.”
He shakes his head. “You want to kill me.”
“No!” The word bursts out of you in scream as if it could banish the troubling thoughts away. “No, never!”
“You keep pushing me away.” He insists, tears gathering in his eyes like storm clouds breaking the skyline. “That’s killing me.”
“Baby, stop it…” You plead, drowning under his tears.
“If you leave me, I’ll die.” He tells you, his voice surprisingly steady in its condemnation. “You know that, jie. You know I can’t live without you.”
“You’re being so unfair.” You lament. All you want is a good, well-adjusted, happy life for him—a normal life where he has a lover and a sister that aren't the same damned woman.
“I don’t care about fair. I only care about you.” He says as if you ever needed to hear that. You knew it all too well, that Caleb will continue to fight that perfect future you dream for him every step of the way.
_______________________
To your surprise, Caleb is on his best behaviour at the gathering. His tears have dried, leaving his pretty eyes shiny and full of stars, and his broken voice has taken on that boyish, inviting lilt that disarms everyone who meets him.
He’s dressed up in one of his nicer shirts and a pair of tailored dress pants. They’re nothing fancy but you’re not used to seeing him in something other than his sweats and tanks or cargo pants with a million pockets and three jackets on, and you don’t like the way this unfamiliar outfit shows off his physique. The shirt emphasizes his broad shoulders and muscled arms and the fitted pants draw attention to his thick thighs and round bottom. Even his hair is slicked back neatly, revealing his forehead and thick eyebrows, and you wonder what the purpose of the new look is.
To you, he still looks like your baby brother putting on a grownup’s skin, but to others he must look like an alluring young man they could sink their teeth into, because they gravitate towards him like flies. Most of them content themselves with stealing glances they think go unnoticed, however some braver ones—or perhaps more idiotic—gawk openly, while a brazen few come up to speak to him directly.
Your coworkers take to him faster than they ever did to you, and you swallow back the complicated emotions that bubble in you in response, and that you refuse to name.
For most of the night, he stays close by your side, chatting up your coworkers who come up under the pretense of wanting to talk to you, only to end up directing most of their attention toward him. And when they learn he’s your brother, they coo and fawn, praising you for raising such a charming, well-mannered young man.
Caleb keeps one arm wrapped securely around you the whole time, his smile growing wider with each compliment, and his chest puffed out as if he’d achieved some secret goal he’d set out to prove.
“I like playing brother and sister more than boyfriend and girlfriend. But I think I’d like it more if I could kiss you right now.” He whispers in your ear the moment the two of you are left alone. “They wouldn’t mind right? Your friends all love me.”
“That’s not funny, you little shit. You promised you’d behave.” You scowl at him. So that’s why he’s dressed like this and acting this way. He thinks your friends liking him as your brother will make them accept him any more as your lover. It’s almost endearing how delusional he can be sometimes, his way of thinking so child-like it makes you wish you could protect him from his own misguided beliefs.
“Besides,” You say with a sickening sense of deja-vu. ”They’re not my friends.”
“Really, what about Tara? I thought she was your best friend.” He pushes back, recalling all the times you’d told him about her. “She loves me too. You saw how she invited me to come along on the camping trip next month.”
“I’m going to text her tomorrow and tell her you can’t make it after all.” You glare at him. Really, what was he thinking accepting her invitation? That he’ll impress them all so much, they’d overlook the fact that he’s your brother? That he’d be so amazing, they’d congratulate you for being with him?
“But I want to come.” He whines.
“And I said no.”
“But jiejie—”
“I’m going to get a drink.” You snap at him, already turning away. He immediately starts to follow, but you put a hand out to stop him, pointing to the floor where he is standing. “Stay here.”
“Jie—” He pouts but you don’t wait to listen to his whining.
It’s probably not the smartest idea to leave him unsupervised and surrounded by a bunch of your coworkers, but you desperately need that drink if you’re going to survive the rest of the night and the whirlwind of emotions that bringing him into the your workplace have conjured up… and it’s not just because you’re afraid of what he might do and how he could cost you everything if he so wishes, but also because he’s once again invaded the one place that belonged only to you.
Your little brother has never really been good at letting you have anything that didn’t also involve him.
“So that’s your little brother, huh?” Simone’s voice makes you jump out of your skin as you’re pouring yourself a drink, and you almost drop the cup to the ground.
“Yeah.” You mutter, a little unfriendly, not really in the mood to discuss him when you’ve finally managed to get a couple of minutes away from him.
As if she can hear your thoughts, she laughs. “He’s… clingy, isn’t he?”
You snort in response. “What gave it away?”
“Well, for one, he’s currently staring at you like a dog waiting for its owner outside of a shop.”
You throw a glance back towards him, and his sad face perks up for a second as your eyes meet before you force yourself to look away.
“He seems like a good kid.” She continues, and you feel a pang of guilt in your chest as you almost contradict her. Instead, you force out a small smile. “Yeah… he is.”
“Is everything okay?” She frowns, finally noticing your gloomy mood, and you kick yourself internally for failing to control your emotions.
“Yeah. He’s just a bit of a handful.” You wave her concern away. What can you even tell her? That he was a good kid up until he started demanding you give your body to him? That you don’t know how to control him anymore? That… your own little brother scares you a little bit?
Instead, you plaster on a bright, fake smile. “But you’re not wrong. He’s like an overexcited puppy—very needy and high maintenance. He wouldn’t even let me come today if he didn’t tag along.” You spin it in a humorous way and she laughs again. “If he’s that needy, why don’t you get him a girlfriend so he’ll bother her instead?”
“Believe me, I’ve been trying.” You mutter, and pretend it’s the drink you’re sipping on that is the cause of your sour expression.
“Is he into jiejies?” Her question catches you off-guard, and you choke on your drink, the alcohol burning your nose as you cough. “What?”
“Does he like older women?” She repeats with a knowing smile that almost brings you to your knees. But then she continues, “Because if so, I think Christine is trying to gobble him up.”
You snap your head to where she is looking to see your brother cornered by Christine, one of the Captains at the association, her hand gripping his bicep and her tits practically shoved against his chest.
“Better go save him before the poor boy has a heart attack.”
You barely hear Simone’s amused voice over the ringing in your ear. You discard your glass, uncaring that it topples over and ruins the tablecloth, and march quickly towards them.
“Didi, there you are!” You exclaim, tiptoeing up on your already high-heeled feet to wrap an arm around his shoulders, pulling him down in an exaggerated sisterly manner. “What are you up to, you little rascal?”
“Jie…” He whines as you mess up his hair. “Stop.”
But he’s smiling down at you, happy to have your attention again. You stare up into his bright eyes, his height still taller than you even with the uncomfortable hunch you’ve forced him into, and suddenly you’re pushing his hair down, fixing it back into the boyish banged look he has always sported, your anxiety only settling when he’s all patched up and back to being your baby brother.
The sound of someone clearing their throat makes you jump, but Caleb’s own hands around your waist stop you from pulling away from him completely. That’s fine. You’ll let him have this for now. You have more important things to focus on, like pinning the older woman down with a fake smile.
“Oh, hey Christine. I see you’ve met my baby brother.” You tell her pointedly, hoping she'd get the hint to back off.
"Oh, he’s your brother? I didn’t know.” She lies horribly, and you fight to keep the ugly scowl off your face. Bullshit. Caleb has been proudly proclaiming to anyone and everyone who will hear him that he’s your little brother. No way she didn’t know.
“Gosh, you’re a pair of good looking siblings, aren’t you?" She chirps, and you don’t miss the annoyance in her eyes at you interrupting them, before her gaze flits back towards Caleb, sliding up and down your brother’s figure brazenly. And god how you wish you could throw your body over him to hide him away from her lecherous eyes. "Bet you're as popular with the ladies as she is with the guys."
You feel Caleb tense against you.
"Is that so?" He turns towards you, still smiling but you can see the start of a fire in his eyes. "Are men bothering you, jiejie?"
And suddenly you feel like you’re the one being warned.
"She's just flattering me." You wave your hand in the air, trying to dispel the tension you feel building up. But Caleb isn't satisfied with that answer, and Christine keeps running her mouth, "Nonsense. She's such a heartbreaker, your big sister. She’s got so many admirers but they’re all too scared to approach her because they know she’d coldly brush them off.”
What the hell is she talking about? Men don't approach you because you're not the type of girl they like. You’re not fun and bubbly like Tara, and you’re not cool and charismatic like Simone. You're not sweet or nurturing either—it’s hard to be when all your supply of those goes towards caring for your full grown brother. You just go to work and focus on your job and get on with your day. The only men who ever talk to you are Xavier and Nero, and that’s probably because they have to.
“Now I know why. She is just too busy spoiling her little brother.” The woman laughs obnoxiously, and you feel queasy by how close her little joke is to the truth. “Maybe I can keep her brother busy so she can finally have time to date."
"She's not interested." Caleb says curtly, no longer smiling. "She needs to focus on her work. And I also need to focus on my studies. I'm still in college, you know."
Despite her cluelessness, whether real or feigned, Christine gets a little thrown off by the sudden change in Caleb’s demeanor—sudden for her anyway. But it seems she doesn’t know when to quit.
"But you're an adult, right?" She asks shamelessly, "Besides, she already seems to have her eyes on someone."
"Who?" Caleb barks, all pretense gone now, and you feel a dragging sensation in the pit of your stomach that you know isn’t just your nerves.
Christine’s smile turns anxious, and you know she must feel it too. But she has no fucking survical instincts because she keeps going. "Xavier, her mission partner. They're always together, talking secretly about god knows what. The sparks are definitely flying."
"We're just discussing mission details. It’s classified intel." You interject, but the stupid woman rolls her eyes and winks at you. "Suuuure. Missions. Is that why you were grinding against him at the club the other day? Did his—ah!”
Her eyes widen as you feel the force of Caleb’s Evol crushing down on all of you.
“We have to go!” You squeak, grabbing his arm and frantically attempting to pull him away, every step heavy as if you’re wearing boots of lead. “Caleb, stop it!”
But he’s not looking at you. Instead, his eyes are darting all around, searching the crowd for a face he doesn’t know. “Which one is he?”
“Don’t.” You plead with him, gripping his arm tightly. “Caleb, this is my workplace. You’re making a scene.”
"Oh, I haven’t even started yet, jiejie." He spits out and finally looks at you, his gaze dark and spiteful. "You wanted me to date so you can be free to fuck him, huh?"
You gasp, panic flooding your veins as a few curious heads turn in your direction. You quickly press your palm to his chest, catching him off guard and forcing him to resonate with you, allowing you to finally move him. You yank him toward the nearest exit, muttering hasty excuses to your concerned friends about your brother not feeling well and you needing to take him home right away.
The second you’re out of the main hall and away from prying eyes, Caleb pushes you against the wall, his breathing comes out fast and heavy as his large frame cages you, like a rabid animal waiting to pounce.
“Did you fuck him?” He demands, the rage in his voice making you tremble, and you shake your head vehemently. “No.”
But your denial doesn’t calm him down.
“Let him eat your pussy?” He asks and you flush. “No!”
“Sucked his dick?”
“Caleb, no!” You whisper furiously, mortified at his wild imagination that is getting him all worked up. “I did none of that!”
“Just grinded against him in front of all your coworkers?” He spits out and you cower, suddenly not feeling so righteous anymore.
“We were just dancing.” You insist weakly, the fear of being caught by one of your coworkers with your little brother in this compromising position, and the mortification at having been caught by Caleb for your drunken fuckup twisting together so tightly around your throat until it’s hard to breathe. “She‘s exaggerating.”
“So you were dancing with him.” He latches onto the wrong part, his eyes narrowing down at you. “Why?”
“It was a work outing, just like this one. Everyone was dancing.” You try to justify yourself but Caleb will not let this grave sin against him slide. “You could have danced with Tara or Simone. Why did it have to be him?”
“I don’t know!” You lie, all the humiliation from that night flooding back in. “I was drunk, okay?”
“You were drunk?!” Caleb barks, incredulous. “You know how useless you get when you drink. Why the hell would you do that around strange men? What if you were so out of it, you didn’t even know what he was doing to you? What if he took you home and fucked you while you were passed out?”
“Is that why you used to try so hard to get me drunk?” You bristle, refusing to let Caleb chastise you. He has done so much worse than drink and rub against a coworker. He has forced you to defile him again and again, and now he’s mad at you for the one thing you shouldn’t feel guilty for.
“And what if I did?” He sneers, not even denying it.
You falter, shocked at how brazen he’s being. ”That’s disgusting, Caleb.”
“That’s what I am, isn’t it. Disgusting.” His lips curl around the words bitterly, “But this isn’t about me. This is about you getting wasted and rubbing your ass against some other man in front of everyone.”
“I told you I didn’t do that!” You lie through your teeth. This is about him. Everything in your life has always been about him, even your stupid decision to dance with Xavier.
A strange expression suddenly takes over your brother’s usually sunny face, and you have nowhere to run as he leans down, trapped as you are between him and the wall, unable to escape from the darkness in his eyes and the unsettling smile on his lips. “You think he’ll still want you if he finds out what you’ve been doing to me?”
You gape at him. What is he saying? Doing to him? Everything that has happened between you was to try to contain his desires. You didn’t want any of this. He made you. But who would people believe? The precious, little brother who loves and trusts his jiejie so much or the reclusive, unfriendly older sister who never had a man in her life and barely has any friends? You had to have been the one to latch onto him, to blind him so he can only see you, to sink your claws into his heart so it bleeds for you, to break his bones so he could only crawl into your arms.
“Are you threatening me, Caleb?” Your ask, your voice wavering. “How could you?”
“You’ve left me no other choice.” He says it like it hurts him more than it hurts you.
“You’re unbelievable.” You hiss at him, feeling your heart stutter at his betrayal, and you know it would rather stop all together than believe he’d ever do such a thing to you. “After everything I did for you. I let this go on for so long because I didn’t want to hurt you, and now you’re threatening me?”
“Liar.” He snarls, “You’re hurting me! You don’t give a shit about me!”
“What are you talking about? I do!” You whisper harshly, “I care about you so fucking much!”
“You left me!” He cries, “You abandoned me again and again, and every single time I was the one who had to run after you. I was the one who followed you to your college apartment, and I was the one who followed you here, even though it takes me hours to get to you and back, yet I still do it every single week just so I can see you!”
“I didn’t ask you to!”
“I know! Because you don’t care about me!” He says, eyes wild now as if he actually believes his own words. And you don’t know if you should be hurt for him because you’ve somehow made him doubt your love towards him or hurt for yourself because he refuses to see all the things you’ve done for him. “You never even tried to contact me after our fight. Would you have never talked to me again if I didn’t reach out first or if I refused to get into the DAA?”
“Don’t be ridiculous.” You scoff, “You’re my brother.”
“And you sent me away!”
“So you could pursue your dream!”
“My dream means nothing without you.”
“Don’t say that.” You protest. It can’t all hinge on you and this forbidden love. There has to be hope still. You need to believe it, otherwise you don't know what you'd do with yourself… or him.
“Do you love me?” He asks and your reply is instantaneous. “Of course, I do.”
“Then how could you bear to force me to be with someone else?”
“Because ours is a different kind of love.”
“Then I don't want any other.” He says with conviction, “You can be everything for me. You are everything for me.”
You shake your head. “Caleb, please. I am your sister. I can only ever be your sister. You need to get that through your head.”
He scoffs and looks away for a moment, the pain clear on his face even with his head turned away.
“Baby—”
His eyes snap back to yours, and you take in a shuddering breath at the vulnerability you suddenly see in them. “Do you find him attractive?”
You hesitate for half a second too long. “I—”
His face twists in anger. “Did you let him touch you?”
“I told you, I didn’t.” You lie again.
“How can I trust that?”
“Caleb, me and Xavier aren’t even together.” You try to convince him but he snorts derisively.
“And we’re apparently not together but you’re letting me touch you.” He mocks, and as if to make his point, a hand comes up to palm your breast as he presses his body flush against yours. “If you’re letting your own brother touch you like this, why wouldn’t you let a man you find attractive do it too?”
“That’s low, Caleb.” You growl and try to push him away but he doesn’t budge. He’s using your over-indulgence of him against you, treating you as if you’re just giving it away to anyone, and not like it’s taken everything in you to give him what you thought he needed because you love him that much.
“Do you love him? Is that it? You found someone better and now you're throwing me away?” He interrogates you, and the fury and pain you see in his eyes almost pull you under. “What do you like about him? Is it the way he looks? The way he treats you? His voice? His profession? I can change. I can be anything you want me to be, jie.”
But you can never not be my brother.
“I don't love him.” You insist, pained at seeing the way your little brother is so willing to mangle himself in order to try to fit into a mould he thinks you might want. “We barely even talk, Caleb.”
“That’s not what that woman said.” He mutters accusingly and you frown. “It’s what I’m telling you.”
But like anything you’ve tried to tell him lately, it goes into one ear and out the other.
“I won’t let you make a fool out of me, jie.” He shakes his head, a mirthless smile twisting his lips. “I only hooked up with that woman because you forced me to. That doesn’t mean I’ll let you fuck around with other men.” He spits out, his gaze hardening. “If I find out you’ve been with him, I’ll—”
You feel it before he even finishes his sentence… the harsh, oppressive weight of his Evol pressing all around you, making your spine creak, your muscle ache, and the air in your lungs feel like water.
“I haven’t! I won't!” You proclaim frantically, not trying to defend your right to a hypothetical date you know would only end in disaster.
“Prove it.”
You look up at him helplessly, and croak out, “How?”
__________________________
“Caleb, please, I promise, nothing happened.” You plead, laid back on your bed with nothing but your underwear on. The same underwear he’s now tugging down your legs.
“I don't believe you.” He grunts, peeling them off completely. The moment they’re off, you instinctively press your legs together, a rush of embarrassment flooding through you. But Caleb’s hands grip onto your thighs and shove them apart. “Let me see, jie.”
You bite your lip and look away, squeezing your eyes shut as your heart hammers wildly in your chest. For a long moment, he’s completely silent. All you can hear is his heavy, uneven breathing as he stares down at your exposed pussy. You can feel tears stinging your eyes, moments away from flowing freely, exposing your shame to his greedy eyes as bare as he’s exposed your body.
He hates it. He doesn't like how you look. He’s disgusted by you.
But then his voice comes out soft and awed. “You're so pretty, jiejie. Better than I ever imagined.”
You gasp, daring to sneak a glance at him, fully expecting to see a mischievous smile on his face as he mocks you. But he’s not looking up at you at all. Instead, he’s staring down between your legs like a starving man.
“Look how wet you are.” He bends down, his warm breath ghosting over your sensitive skin, sending tingles racing up your spine. “Is that because of me? Or him?”
You bite down on your lip harder, and stay quiet.
“Tell me, jie. He demands, and you feel his fingers digging into the flesh of your thighs. “Or I’ll be really mad.”
You shiver, recalling his threat from earlier. Swallowing harshly, you taste your own blood, metallic and nauseating, just the same as your shame. “It's you, didi.”
A pleased sigh escapes him. “I knew it. I know you want me just as much as I want you.”
You feel yourself drowning in self-loathing as his fingers trace over your slick folds, unable to deny your unforgivable desire when the evidence of it is right at his fingertips that spread you open so he can commit every debauched inch of you to memory.
“So pretty for me, jie.”
“Just get to it.” You squirm, your cheeks burning with a flush that spreads down your neck and into your chest at how closely he’s staring at this very intimate part of you—a part of you that no one else has seen before, and yet once again you’d given it away to your little brother.
“So demanding.” He huffs as if you’re the one who wants it. But you don’t dare contradict him. You just lay there quietly and wait to be vindicated so you can finally put this behind you. You’ll never try anything with another man again, not until Caleb has moved on and whatever this is between you is dead and buried six feet under.
Caleb gathers your slick on his fingers, coating them generously before pushing one inside of you slowly, only managing to get to the first knuckle before it meets a tight resistance that makes him groan low in his throat.
“Fuck, you’re a virgin.” He breathes, and you can hear both the relief and arousal clearly in his voice.
“There you go. I'm untouched.” You mutter in resignation, feeling so mortified and helpless at having had to prove it in this humiliating way. But it's your fault really. You should have never danced with Xavier. And you should have raised your brother better.
“You should be touched. You’re perfect. Prettier than any pornstar. I knew you would be.” He sighs dreamily.
You open your mouth to scold him but you're cut off when he lowers his head between your thighs, his mouth descending on you eagerly, his lips enveloping your slick folds and his tongue dragging along the full length of your pussy.
You feel more than hear him groan in appreciation, his lips and tongue working to lap up every drop of your arousal as if just that could sustain him for the rest of his life.
“Caleb!” You squeak, flustered by the sight of your little brother between your legs, kissing your pussy the same way he kisses your lips.
He looks up at you, not shying away from staring you dead in the eyes as he pulls his face back every so slightly so you can see how his tongue sticks out to flick at your clit, the wet sounds of his saliva and your juices squelching in your ears.
“Baby, baby, wait—” You plead out, feeling yourself hurling towards a nauseating orgasm. You cannot handle the way he looks up at you, so blissful and hungry like he’s finally where he wants to be, and you fucking hate how sinfully arousing he looks doing it.
Will any man ever want you as much as he does? Did you do this to him because deep down you knew it would be the only way to get the love and attention you so desperately needed? Is this a trap of your own making?
“Didi, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry!” You cry out as you cum, soaking him in more of your sin. But Caleb is not interested in your pathetic pleas for forgiveness. He feeds on your guilt and arousal like a ravenous beast come to collect your soul.
And he keeps feasting even as your shameful cries of pleasure turn to sobs of pain. “Please, didi, stop, it hurts.”
It all hurts so much.
He finally pulls back with a whine, taking his mouth off your pussy so he can climb up to kiss your lips, feeding you your own sin, the taste of it sour and bitter on your tongue but Caleb moans around it as if it’s the sweetest nectar.
“Baby, it hurts.” You repeat, whimpering when you feel his finger continuing to prod at your hymen, pressing against it again and again as if to make sure it’s still there.
“Yeah? It’s because you’re so tight, jie.” He blames you once again. “So tight I don’t know how you’ll fit my cock.”
You squirm uneasily, trying to get away from his persistent finger. “Stop it, Caleb. I don’t like it when you talk like that.”
But he’s not listening. He pushes your hips down with his palm, keeping you still. “It’s okay. I’ll make it fit. I was made for you,”
And then he’s reaching for his pants, fumbling with the zipper in his haste as he stares hungrily at the spot where part of his finger disappears into your heat.
“Caleb, no!” You cry out in panic and try to snap your legs shut, but his Evol slams down on you, making you yelp in pain as your legs are suddenly forced back open, your thighs spread for his scrutiny and his cock that now rests against your pussy.
You’ve seen it many times before. It has always been impressive in length and girth, but seeing it resting on your pussy now, the length of it reaching all the way to your belly button makes you break out in a cold sweat.
“Baby, what are you doing? Please, don’t do this.” You tear up as he rubs his cock along your slick folds, coating himself in your wetness, preparing for something terrible.
“Caleb, stop it!” You yelp when he presses the large head right at your entrance, your pussy screaming in protest as he tries to force his way inside.
“Shh, it's okay, jiejie.” He leans forward to kiss away the tears that escape you. “Just the tip, okay? Even your little pussy can take that.”
You shake your head harshly. “Didi, please, don’t do this. This is wrong.” You try to reason with him but your words only bring back that anger that started it all. “What's wrong is you sending me away and pushing me onto other girls so you can whore around with him.”
“You—” You shout, but your words come out garbled as he shoves himself inside you, forcing your pussy to stretch around the flared head.
“Stop, stop!” You hit his chest repeatedly as he continues to push, bullying more of himself inside. You feel him reach your hymen and then press further, the pain of it making your head spin.
You stare up at your little brother, his angry face swimming in your vision, and you wonder if you’ve truly lost him.
But true to his words, he stops. “F-Fuck, jiiieee. You—ngh—feel so good.” He moans, his head falling down to the crook of your neck as he pauses to catch his breath, his entire body shaking.
“Why?” You croak out, the fire between your legs nothing compared to the ache in your heart.
“I can't let anyone else—hah—have you, jiejie.” He pants, covering your neck in wet kisses.
You shiver, and reach your arms out to wrap around him, seeking solace but knowing you can only hope to find it in the same boy, no… man, who hurt you. Your baby brother who used to cry if he even mistakenly upset you, has somehow turned into a man who takes what he wants regardless of how you feel. And he wants you intimately, profanely. “I told you I didn’t do anything with him. I proved it.”
“You only proved that he hasn’t had you yet.” He grunts, and pulls back to stare at your bodies where you're so precariously connected, his expression turning desperate as his eyes flick back to yours, and you feel queasy seeing the same look your little brother always gives you when he asks for something he knows he shouldn't, but also knows you wouldn’t deny him either. “Fuck, do I have to wait? I don’t want to wait. I want you so bad. What if I wait and you fuck him. I'd go crazy.”
As if he’s not already there.
“I won't, Caleb.” You promise with all the conviction in your rotten soul. You won’t. You won’t. You never want to see him like this ever again.
“I wish I could believe you.” He murmurs sadly, his gaze locked with yours as he pulls his hips back only to thrust forward again, the tip of his cock barely slipping out before he's burying it back inside you. You don’t hold back your whimper of pain from him, and he doesn’t hold back his vengeance from you. “Holy shit…That woman said you’re with him all the time, hiding away from others. She saw you rubbing against him in front of everyone, yet you won't even let me kiss you in public.”
“It’s not true, baby. She’s lying.” You deny, still hoping it would save you from an even worser fate.
“Why would she lie?”
“Why would I lie?” You implore the part of him that trusts and respects his jiejie, hoping it's still alive. But the smile he gives you is not that of your doting little brother. “Because you know I'll chop his hands off and feed him his own dick if he touched you.”
Bile rises in your throat. You can't tell if he really means it or if it's just the heat of the moment, and that fucking terrifies you. Would your brother really try to hurt Xavier if he finds out the truth? How far does his obsession really go? Is there any remaining hope at all?
“It didn't happen, okay?” You cower, unwilling to face the possibility of your precious baby brother doing something so violent, even as he unleashes some of that same violence upon you. “I promise, di.”
“I want to believe you, jie. I really do.” He sighs, his hand gripping your chin tightly as he stares deep into your eyes, trying to seek out the truth. “I will lose it if I find out you’re lying to me.”
You cradle his face in your hands and pull him down for a passionate kiss, coaxing him to soften for you. “I’m not, baby. I promise.”
Let me in. Don't do this. Please, come back to me.
And he does, his face crumbling into the needy look you're so familiar with, his eyes shining wet and pitiful with yearning. “I love you, jie.”
You sigh in relief. “I know, baby. I love you too.”
“You don’t. Not as much as I do. Or you wouldn’t keep saying no to me.” He whines, and sits back on his heels, his hands gripping your hips as he resumes his thrusts, watching the head of his cock disappear in and out of your hole again and again. “I want you s-so much, jie. I wanted you before I even—hah—knew what my cock was for.”
Because there is something seriously wrong with you, didi.
And there is something seriously wrong with me.
And I can’t tell which one of us had this sickness first.
But the disgust that his confession brings up in you does nothing to dampen the pleasure you feel as your pussy slowly starts getting used to the intrusion, moulding around his cock in order to accommodate him. Every part of you will always yield to your little brother, even this.
“You were made for me.” He moans and your pussy flutters around him in answer, producing more slick that makes the slide of his cock easier. It sucks him in hungrily, and suddenly you can feel just how empty you are inside.
Do it. He can fill up that hole inside you. He feels it too. Just give in. Take what you both need.
A voice calls out from deep within your mind, the sound distant and muffled as if buried under layers of rubble. Something in its enthralling tone seems so terrifyingly familiar to you, like a desire you'd long buried but has now returned from the dead to drag you to hell.
But you resist its call. It’s not your little brother’s duty to fix what you lack. If you have influenced him to think he needs to then you must correct him before you ruin him completely.
"Does it feel good for you too, jie? Tell me, please..." He whimpers, the anticipation and worry on his face almost have you spilling to reassure him. “It feels so good for me. This is where I belong. Fuck, do you feel it too, jie?”
His thumb brushes over your clit, the friction making your hips rock against his hand involuntarily, mindlessly chasing more of that pleasure.
“Please, say it, jie.”
You shake your head, trying to rebuke both your brother's delusional pleas to join him in his lunacy and the incriminating demands coming from your own mind.
This is not right. He should have never known what the inside of you felt like, let alone think he belonged there. It would have been less abominable for him to dig his hand into your chest and stifle the life out your heart that you'd already given to him so many years ago.
Caleb sees your denial for rejection. “If you can’t feel it then maybe I’m not deep enough.” He grunts, his thumb flicking over your clit more roughly now as he pushes his cock further inside you, the head of it painfully stretching your hymen. “I need to go all the way inside you. I need to feel your blood that runs through my veins dripping down on my cock.”
You don't know if it's fear or arousal you feel at the thought of the blood that you both share staining your little brother's cock after he takes you in a way no other man has, and no brother ever should… but whatever it is, it pushes you over the edge. Your back arches off the bed as you scream, an overwhelming pleasure ripping through your body.
“Fuck, jiejie—” He groans, his hips twitching as he tries to fuck your pussy, but it clamps down on him, mercifully preventing him from acting on his threats. “Shit—shit—you're milking my c-cock, jie. You're gonna make me cum… fuck, please, jie, please—I need—I’m cumming! I’m cumming!”
Amidst your violent orgasm and his frenzied reaction, a rational thought somehow makes it through the swill of shame and pleasure, and you yelp out. “Caleb, pull out. You need to pull out, baby. I'm not on birth control.”
You hear nothing in return but his delirious babbles of ‘I love you. I love you. Jiejie, I love you so much.’
“Caleb, did you hear me?” Your voice rises with panic, “Pull out!”
Though his eyes are locked on you, he doesn’t acknowledge your frantic pleas.
You feel his cock twitch.
Oh god.
Your little brother is going to cum inside you. You're going to get knocked up with your baby brother's child. Your lives will be ruined forever.
But at the last second, he pulls out, and you feel his hot cum land on your pussy, covering you in his seed that thankfully wasn’t given the chance to take.
“Fuck…” He groans, staring down at the mess he made of you as if mesmerized. “You… you bled a little.”
Your eyes snap down to see the ever so small streak of your blood marring his otherwise pearly white cum.
He must have slightly torn your hymen when he tried to go all the way. Shivering, you think of how close he got… and that emptiness inside you yawns wider.
“Shit, jie.” He sucks in a harsh breath, his fingers smearing his release over your swollen lips. “You came so hard on my cock. Did you like hearing what I want to do to you?”
"No, Caleb." You croak, voice strained as you shake your head weakly. “I didn't—I don't like it.”
“Liar.” He purrs, grabbing his still-hard cock and dragging the thick head along your soaked folds, coating himself in the mess of your blood and his cum. “I felt how tight you got around me when I said—”
“You were playing with my clit.” You snap quickly, “That’s why I came.”
Caleb shakes his head as he slides his cock lower and lines the blunt tip up with your entrance once more. “That’s not what happened. You want it, jie. You want your little brother’s cock—”
“Stop it, Caleb!” You push your legs shut and kick at his hips, trying to shove him back. “I don’t want to hear it. It’s fucking disgusting!”
He catches your legs easily, forcing them back down onto the mattress as he climbs over you again, caging you beneath his larger body.
“You can deny it all you want, jie, but I know the truth. I felt it.” He growls, and you cower into the sheets, but you have nowhere to run away from this frightful version of your little brother he blames you for.
“Caleb, you’re hurting me.” You tell him meekly, and worry if that even means anything to him anymore.
“What about me?” Caleb counters, pressing his hips forward so the thick head of his cock stretches your sore entrance again. The burning overstimulation makes you whimper, your abused pussy clenching involuntarily around him. “You hurt me every time you deny our love.”
“Caleb, please… don’t do this.” You plead, the jagged pieces of your broken heart cutting up your throat. “Not this way.”
He glares down at you, his entire body taut as his wants and desires battle with his need for your acceptance and approval.
“You don’t want your first time to be like this.” You press on, trying desperately to reason with him.
“Our first time.” He hisses, jaw clenching so hard you can see the muscle jump. But, finally, he pulls his cock out, making you both shudder, and you tell yourself it's from relief. “You’re mine, jie. You can’t run from it much longer. You’re my sister… my best friend… and my mother.”
You frown, opening your mouth to protest, but he pushes his thumb between your lips, pressing down on your tongue to silence you.
“And one day soon, I’m going to take your pussy and make you my woman too. Then you’ll be all mine and no one will ever take you away from me. Not even you, jie.”
A/N: didi is really starting to lose it now, however will mc control him now (she won't). i need to know what you think of the mommy aspect bec mc is in a way his mom. i won't go too heavily into it, it will still mostly be jiejie kink but during moments of extreme duress or when he's trying to get to her he'll use it. also next chapter is the dreaded other woman entrance that will really throw jiejie for a loop. how do you imagine another woman can fit in caleb's jiejie obsessed life? and will jiejie feels when another woman seems to finally challenge everything she's been telling himself and her?
oh btw there are only 2 (maybe 3) chapters left!
follow me on twitter @/Wildernessunto1!
taglist for all my caleb fics: @mcdepressed290, @monoidmango, @seraphineash, @lewdcifer778, @strayy-kidz, @virtualdonutcashdeputy, @airachniide, @deceptive-solitude, @mimiluvzu2, @smmnlz, @secretarykitten, @fukyachickennuggets-blog, @joannafaustus, @rose3heartzzz, @unadulteratedtranquility, @pixiu-palindrome, @iwillstealyouruwus, @lilkittenskiss, @remnantsofgildedcages, @cinnabean3, @pookiei-bookie, @cembreeee, @ariapok, @bypanana, @the-shape-of-water, @applecrow613, @heesitation, @calebsmyapple, @valiantchaosvalkyrie, @letharue, @salynaa, @bebiappl3, @muttwithnoname, @big-juicy-yap
i know tag ettiquette is dead on tumblr at this point and ive just been ignoring it like a disgruntled but resigned grandpa, but i feel like considering new updates yall really need this reminder (and i want to share this to as many people as i can but thatd be too many tags, so im just doing this in the lads tags)
DO NOT, I REPEAT DO NOT TAG YOUR RANT POSTS IF YOU "ARENT LOOKING FOR A FIGHT"
if you rant about apple, then you tag your post with "apple", who do you think is gonna see that? obviously its the apple people.
IF YOU RANT ABOUT A THING THEN YOU TAG THE THING, YOU ARE SHOWING YOUR RANT TO THE EXACT PEOPLE YOUR RANT IS AGAINST. OBVIOUSLY THERE WILL BE FIGHTS.
you know how we dealt with fandom rants back in the day?
ranting in the tags. make a post where the content is JUST a "." or a short sentence ex "just wanted to rant", then put all your ranting in the tags. DO NOT TAG THE FANDOM YOURE RANTING ABOUT IS2G
put the post under a readmore, then DO NOT ADD ANY TAGS. you can tag with smth personal like your personal rant tag.
"but i wanna tag it for my own blogs organization!" USE PERSONAL TAGS.
"i wanna just share my feelings about apple products" GIRL (gn), USE A TAG LIKE "the fruit company" DONT TAG APPLE PRODUCTS YOU ARE PICKING A FIGHT WITH THE APPLE PEOPLE
