#dub!con

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.”

You peek into the oven and smile to yourself as the smell of mellow herbs takes over the kitchen. The scent is familiar, reminding you of home: the meal the kind you make when you want to feel close to someone again.

The past few months have been hard. Since four rifts cracked open through Hawkins, everything has felt off. Steve tries, he really does, but he's distant in a way people get when they don't know how to talk about grief without drowning in it. You don't blame him, but you miss your fiancé. 

You miss how things used to be between the two of you.

Your fingers wrapping around a lemon, you bring its bright yellow peel to meet the sharp ridges of a zester. The fine curls of peel stick to your skin, yet as you hear the front door opening and closing and rush to clean your hands in your apron, you don't worry about the way the fabric would smell like citrus for days to come.

"I'm in the kitchen," you call, barely managing to bite down the soft excitement in your voice. You have missed this: soft, domestic moments like these. There not to impress, but to mend.

As he steps into the kitchen, eyes twinkling as they meet yours, it's a touch of confusion that travels through you. 

A touch of uncertainty as your lips part and a knit forms between your brows.

"Smells heavenly," he murmurs as he closes his distance to you. His fingers fall to the small of your back to lead you closer to him, his other hand moving to cradle your cheek.

As the name passes your lips, your voice is barely louder than a whisper. "Henry."

Confused—though why would you be?

His voice is warm with amusement as he tilts his head. "Were you expecting someone else?"

Were you?

"No," you chuckle. "No, I just—" You glance at the clock above the fridge. "What time will he be—"

"What time will who be?"

"Steve," you manage, yet suddenly the name tastes foreign on your tongue. Wrong, like your mouth has forgotten how to form the sound.

"Steve?" Henry's thumb brushes against your cheek, soothing. "Sweetheart, that was before."

Before?

"Before I reminded you that you don't need to be lonely."

The word rings through you like a fracture untreated.

You had been lonely. 

The quiet of the house when Steve had been gone had been deafening. You had sat in front of a clock, counting down the hours, minutes, seconds until he'd be back, only for the void between the two of you to greet you in the place of your fiancé. 

Until he had filled it.

Subtle and slow, all while as certain as the rising sun, filling in the gaps of emptiness Steve had left behind.

As warm and comforting. 

As right, all of it leading to this moment: to you being home, with Henry. 

"Of course," a breath passes your lips and you shake your head with a chuckle. "I'm sorry, Henry, I don't know how I—"

His thumb moving to brush against your bottom lip silences you down. "Shh, darling. It's alright. You always mix timelines when you're tired."

"I do, don't I?" Your laugh is a breathless sound, and Henry smiles as if you had said something he had heard a thousand times before.

"It's alright," he repeats, his hand on your cheek leading you closer to him until his lips are brushing against yours.

So soft, so warm.

The kiss he guides you into so sweet. Thick with adoration and love, and the sense of belonging.

"There you are," he chuckles against your lips as you pull apart, his forehead moving to lean against yours. "My perfect wife."

"Yours," you beam, a laugh slipping from your lips as he steals a kiss and another from you. "You're distracting me, you know?"

"What could possibly be more important than this?" He chuckles. "Us."

"The food, for one," you tease. "I have to check on it, Henry."

"Then go," he murmurs, a smile tugged at the corners of his lips. "I'll set the table."

Your smile comes easy to you as you yank open the oven door and wave your hand to dissolve the steam. 

The chicken is golden brown and your stomach rumbles as you pull the dish out, careful to not burn yourself. Rosemary needles cling to the skin of the chicken, glossy with butter, the scent thick in the air, comforting. 

The thought that passes through you is fleeting: the dish is cooked to perfection, and yet it couldn't have been more than fifteen minutes since you'd slid it in. 

A knit forms between your brows, and you turn to glance at the clock above the fridge. 

It reads the same as it had the last time you'd checked it. The time before then, and the time before then. 

"Don't do that."

You turn, your lips parted. "What?"

"Look for reasons to get upset." His voice is so soft, so gentle. His fingers land on your waist to trace mindless patterns on your skin through the fabric. "I built this. For us—remember?—so that you wouldn’t have to worry anymore."

Built. 

The word lands heavy.

"Our life, together," he hums. "It doesn’t matter how you ended up here. It doesn’t matter what your life looked like before this. What matters is that you’re here." His hand lands on your chin as he makes you look at him. "Where you belong. Safe."

His finger brushes over your cheek, wiping away a tear you didn't realize you had shedded.

"You do that sometimes," he hums. "When you’re close to remembering things you don’t need."

"Henry—"

He kisses you.

Not slow this time. Not indulgent. The kiss is firm, consuming, his hand sliding to the back of your neck as if to anchor you in place.

Your doubt dissolves into nothingness, your protests dying down on your lips as he seems to breathe life back into you.

When he pulls back, your thoughts feel smoothed. Like all their rough edges have been carefully sanded down, sharp rocks turned into pebbles by the waves.

"There," he murmurs, his thumb brushing against your bottom lip. "That's better."

"Better," you echo him, breathless. 

His smile is satisfied as he tilts his head ever so slightly, something darker—not dangerous—waking up in his eyes. "What do you say—," he steals a kiss from your lips, "we forget about dinner for now?"

"Won't it cool down?"

"You know that it won't," he chuckles as his hand slips into yours, the warmth of his skin against yours grounding.

It is the hand of which every mole and scar you have learned. The hand that has caressed you so many times before. 

The hand that now leads you into your shared bedroom, laughs passing both of your lips as you stumble into the room. Your kiss is sloppy, your lips too eager to pause for a breath, and it is only to guide you onto the bed that Henry breaks the touch between the two of you.

"God, you're beautiful," he murmurs with a shake of his head. "I can't believe you're mine."

"You better believe it," you beam as his fingers unbuckle his belt and unzip his pants. As he climbs on top of you, his hand caressing your cheek. 

And he sinks in. 

"Henry—" The breath that passes your lips is thick with lust, deep with love. "God."

"That's it, sweetheart," he breathes out against your lips. "Feel it all for me."

You do.

You feel the warm and soft caress of the sheets against your skin. The subtle bounce of the mattress as Henry slides out, only to ease back in.

You feel each inch of him filling you up, stretching you open in a way that feels nothing short of meant to be. As if you are made for each other: to find pleasure from the arms of one another.

No.

Purpose.

"There you go—"

"Henry—"

"You're perfect," he nuzzles your cheek with his nose, his voice so warm it sends shivers down your spine. "My perfect wife."

"Yours."

"Say that again."

"I'm yours, Henry," you breathe out as he picks up the pace. He's brushing against your cervix by each gentle thrust, the man drinking up every moan and breath slipping from your glossy lips. "I belong to you."

The words surface from somewhere deep down, passing your lips with such ease that makes you feel like you have spoken them a thousand fold.

And each time you have meant them.

Haven't you?

"Stay with me," he coos against your lips, his hand on your cheek guiding you to look at him. "Focus, darling. On this—," he slides out of you, just to bottom out: drawing a warm breath for a name from your lips. 

The sound rings wrong in your ears, and yet it's not until you see Henry's eyes darken that you understand.

It's not Henry's name you had spoken.

"He abandoned you," he murmurs, and despite the darkness in his eyes, his voice remains soft and warm as he continues easing in and out, the pleasure of each thrust rippling through you. "When you needed him the most, you became invisible to him. And the more you begged and the more you pleaded, the more distance he took, until Steve—" Henry's hand on your jaw guides you to look at him. "Left."

Your brows furrow. "Steve left?"

"Steve left you." His eyes remain soft. "There's nothing for you out there, darling. All that you have—," his lips brush against yours. "All that you are is right here, with me. I saved you."

"Henry—"

"This is where you belong," his voice takes a nearly hypnotic quality. "Safe. Protected. Loved and adored."

It is a touch of warmth that wakes up inside you from his words, and yet as you shake your head, it is tears that well in your eyes. "But he loved me."

"No, darling. But I do. I do. And unlike him—" he coos against your lips as he eases into you once more. "I will never leave you. I will never let anything come between us."

"Henry—"

"Not even you," he murmurs as he pulls out of you, just to flip you over on the bed. 

You bounce on the mattress, a gasp passing your lips as his body pins you against the soft sheets. And with that, he sinks in from behind.

"Henry—"

"That's it, sweetheart," he purrs. "That's better. You feel every inch now, don't you?"

You do.

God, you do: the thick weight of him is filling you up in a way that makes the words echo through your clouded mind once more.

This is meant to be.

As he thrusts in you, you feel your grasp around your worries loosening. Around the doubt.

The fear.

The confusion.

"Henry," the name slips from your lips once more, thick with arousal. You can already feel it: your pleasure coiling up at the pit of your tummy. Your fingers wrap around the sheets as you look for something to hold onto.

Anything to ground you, only for his words to send you spiraling.

"Tell me."

You don't even blink before the words have slipped from your lips. "I belong to you."

"That's right, darling," he murmurs into your ear, his lips so warm and soft as they brush against your earlobe. "Stay with me. Belong to me."

"I do," you moan out. "Henry, I do—"

"I know," he chuckles. "I know, sweetheart. So let go. I got you." 

His voice is so gentle, so warm.

"I got you."

So soft as it weaves its tendrils around your mind. 

"Show me that you're mine, and mine alone. Mine to have, mine to keep. My wife."

God, please—

"Cum for me."

Your pleasure shoots through you, hot and blinding, and with that, you're sent crying out his name again and again like it's the only word you know.

No, it is the only word you know.

The only word that matters.

His lips are so gentle as they press kisses along your jawline. His voice is so soothing as he hushes you. "I got you, darling. That's it—"

"Henry—"

"I'm right here," he murmurs. "I'm not going anywhere. I'm here."

He guides you into his arms, and you breathe with him until your body remembers the rhythm without effort.

Until your chest is rising and falling with breaths, gentle and calm.

"That's it," Henry murmurs, lips pressing a kiss on your forehead. "Just rest."

You try, just as the thoughts try to resurface. A name. The food. The clock, and yet each thought comes apart before it fully forms.

Henry’s thumb traces mindless patterns along your arm. "You don’t need to think anymore," he says softly. "I’ll do that part for you." 

"I know," you whisper, and he smiles against your skin.

In the kitchen, the clock still reads the same.

It always will. 

"I need a favor," Kate asks, and there is a part of John that knows that Kate does not ask for small favors.

"How big of a favor are we talkin' about here?"

""Keeping an Omega from dying” big.”

John is already putting the pieces together.

“And you are asking me on her behalf, because?” He feels he knows the answer, but wants confirmation of the situation at hand.

She’s not exactly asking him to fuck off to the other side of the world and risk life and limb, but she is asking that he fuck a heat-addled Omega who’s in no possible position to make decisions for herself.

“Her suppressants failed, and every single medical intervention they’ve attempted to bring down her heart rate and blood pressure has failed also. She has a 9 month old baby at home and she’s going to stroke out if we don’t figure something out.”

The natural solution might be the only one, then. It’s not often but it happens- and John’s not going to waste time asking stupid questions like where’s the Alpha who fathered her first baby? because he knows Kate well enough to know she would have thrown him in the room with her if that was an option.

“This is a fucking disaster waiting to happen- you know that, don’t you?”

John is sure that a heat-addled Omega on the verge of heat stroking is going to be more than receptive to him in the moment. But 72 hours from now, when the haze ends and the fog lifts?

“She signed an advanced directive after her baby was born,” Kate starts. “It was very detailed.” That clears up some of the grey area but this is still muddy waters.

On paper is an entirely different reality to waking up lucid on the knot of an Alpha you don’t know.

John has done some heinous things in his career. But jumping an Omega he’s never met?

He keeps his conscience clean by saying he is the one to take the gloves off when necessary. To get dirty when the world needs cleaning.

An Omega with an infant to care for is a far cry from a terrorist cell brutalizing civilians.

“Steve’s not gonna stop,” was the voicemail Nat left, following the fight at the airport. You knew what that meant. You were never going to sign the accords or fight in this no matter how much both sides asked but you weren’t going to stand idly by while they killed each other either.

You had followed Stark to the location, hanging back but even farther back when you saw some guy dressed like a giant cat.

When you finally intervened Bucky was on the ground visibly unconscious and his Vibranium arm across the room.  Your eyes quickly diverted to Steve and Stark battling it out. Stark was on the ground with the Iron Man helmet smashed off his head you knew it was time to step in.

Just as Steve moved to slam the shield against the Arc Reactor you brought your hands on the sides of the shield standing above Stark’s head. It took all your superhuman strength to keep him there, a mere inch from the chest piece but your strength would not hold up to Steve’s.

“You can’t fight him Steve, please” you voice barely above a whisper. Steve’s eyes widened and you could feel his pressure against the shield falter a fraction. It was enough for you to shove the shield down on the ground.

“Even the golden boy’s girl knows what side to be on. Nice to see you finally picking a side and step out of the side lines,” you grimaced. You wanted to explain that was not what was going on at all but this was not the time.

“You don’t understand, he’s going to kill Bucky.” Steve looking at you desperately as you both remained above Stark.

“No it’s you who doesn’t understand Cap, he killed my mom. He won’t walk out of here.” Stark responded quickly. There was so much pain and malice.

You shut your eyes tightly, just then you heard Bucky groan out in pain.

The sound plasma hand cannon readying was the only warning you heard and before you could intervene Steve had the shield back in his hands deep in Stark’s chest piece. The hum of the suit dying was chilling enough to bring tears to the corner of your eyes.

Steve breathed heavily and looked up at you as you loomed over them both. His eyes pleading you to understand or forgive him, you weren’t sure which. You did understand, it was Bucky how many nights did he stay up telling you stories about the two of them.

It didn’t matter how many times they brainwashed him, he was still Bucky. You couldn’t abandon Stark just like you couldn’t betray your love to Steve.

“Don’t make me choose,” you took in a ragged breath trying hard not to break down. He closed his eyes for a moment then stood up, pulling the shield out of the Iron Man suit as he did.

He moved over to Bucky, helping lift him up to his feet and began to walk away.

“That shield doesn’t belong to you.” Stark called out as he tried to get up right.

“Tony,” you scolded him. That was Steve’s more than it was anyone’s but he ignored you and continued.

“You don’t deserve it, my father made that shield.” Steve looked at you and then down at the shield. Without a response Steve dropped the shield and continued to walk off with Bucky leaning on him.

It hurt seeing the bruises forming on the sides of his face. You were forever grateful to Stark but could you really just let Steve leave without talking? Turning to Stark you helped him get to his feet within the dying suit.

“Who do I need to call?” you asked, making it clear you weren’t going to help him get back home.

“If you go with them you’ll be a wanted woman.” He warned.

“I already am, remember I didn’t sign.” He grunted. “Oh yeah, you and your ‘I won’t sign and I won’t fight’ bullshit. See what happens? Capsicle can’t think right without you.”

“Tony, who do I call, Rhodes?” He looked away and tried to stand on his own but the weight of the suit was off balance from all the damage and he faltered. You quickly helped him stay upright and then guided to a wall he could lean against.

“Does anyone know you are here?” He bitterly chuckled and that was enough to tell you clearly no. What a mess this had turned into.

Shaking your head in disbelief and pain at how it had all turned out you pulled your phone out and speed dialed.

“Nat? Yeah… No things did not go well at all… they’re all 3 alive,” You looked at Tony and frowned at his bleeding face. “…not without damage though.”

“Follow the gps on the phone, come get Tony and keep it discrete.” Nat disconnected after your instructions and you handed to phone off to Tony. He looked down at your hand then back up, dazed.

“I’m not staying here, and I’m not keeping that on me. You know you mean so much to me and saving me from…you know.” A deep sigh escaped your lips and he glared at you. You sat the phone down on the ground.

“You are going to go after him?“ He called out your name when you turned your back to him, "After what you just saw him do to me, to us, and protect that Hydra Murderer! He killed my parents! My Mom!” Stark’s voice rose with each word as you ran off.

By the time you caught up they were already at the Quinjet and the cat guy was talking to them both outside the jet.

Bucky was the first to notice you, the other two looking your way to see what he was looking at. Steve sucked in his breath through his teeth with wide eyes. He did not expect to see you again, honestly that stung.

The man in the Cat suit had I his mask off, it was T’Challa. You cocked your head to the side, this situation was all sorts of fucked up. Maybe one day you’d get all the details but now you had to talk to Steve.

Bucky lifted his arm out from around Steve’s shoulder and T’Challa helped him get inside the jet as Steve walked towards you pulling off his helmet. You speed walked towards him, slamming your body into him not caring about the painful grunt he made, he was a super solider he could take it.

His arms wrapped tightly around you, almost bone crushing as you wrapped his arm around his neck and pulled him down to kiss you. It was rough and full of the need you two always felt for each other. It was a few minutes before you both pulled away from such a tight embrace.

“I won’t ask you to come with me,” he spoke softly against your lips. You almost wish he would but you knew he would never ask more of you than you could give. He kissed you again but it was softer this time. You pulled away.

“Is that how you kissed that Sharon girl?” his cheeks flushed and muttered “Sam,” under his breath. You smirked.

“I intended to tell you before Sam… It was to get the suits, she was doing a favor and there was a sense of duty to-”

“To kiss a girl who you had been leading on? Oh okay.” you teased him as he fumbled to explain. You weren’t the jealous one out of the two of you.

“Stop playing with me. I have to get Buck somewhere safe.” He stressed and you nodded in agreement.

“You have Bucky, get him the help he needs.” You kissed him again but he frowned.

“I want you too.” he pulled you away from his embrace, his hands resting on your shoulders looking you in the eyes. His swirling blue eyes held so much pain, desire, guilt, anger…there was too much as always.

“Then ask Rogers. You just gotta ask.” The hum and heat of the Quinjet starting up pulled you out of each other’s gaze. “Times up,” you smiled at him as you removed his arms from your shoulders.

“I’ll find you,” the confidence and unsaid meaning in those words sent a chill down your spine.

“I’m counting on it old man.” You watched him walk into the Quinjet, turning around to look at you his mouth opening as if he would ask. You knew better, he was always too late. You started walking away to make your own escape from the chaos that had ensued.

8 months later

You stood in front of what had to be at least 1980’s A/C window unit. You hated the heat. You let out a groan as noise rose from outside the bustling city street of Agadir, Morocco.

The motel wasn’t the worst you had been in so far while on the run. Mercenary work was giving you extra cash to move up from D Grade motels to C Grade. It was certainly easier than your earlier years.

Shaking you heard trying to cool down you knew you just needed to get out of the room, maybe the beach?

Your eyes narrowed while looking at the people on the street then nodded your head agreeing with that idea.

You looked around pretty sure you found the least crowded part of the beach. Walking towards the shore a gentle breeze blew your hair and long thin robe you wore over your bikini. You used to care about showing this much skin, the scars and all imperfections would have made you self-conscious but that was before Steve. Before he instilled in you the confidence and encouraged your self-discovery.

Setting your bag down as you neared the shore you sighed; you missed Steve, desperately at night. Giving him space with Bucky was more important to you than having Steve between your legs every night.  

You were pretty sure he was in Wakanda but getting there was proving a task given it was only you. Stark spoiled you with all his means and connections over the years. You looked out, the light blue of the ocean reminded you of his eyes, those eyes that would burn with desire and need for only you.  

Cool ocean water brushes back and forth on your feet took you out of your thoughts. That’s what you needed, this was better than that ancient A/C. You began to walk further in pulling the bottom of the robe up however yelling started behind you.

There was panic and pointing to a young gentleman running with a floral bag in his hand, as he came across your bag he grabbed it. “SHIT!” you were too trusting or as Steve would say “Head in the clouds”. Without thinking you launched after the guy not caring about your lack of shoes or clothing.

The man looked behind him and his eyes widened, you were gaining on him and fast. He ran into the street dodging cars, you followed ignoring the gravel and fiber glass your bare feet picked up along the way. When he saw you were still following he quickly turned down a side road leaving the main road facing the beach.

You kept at him and your feet kept picking up more but you pushed through, you needed your bag! You smiled when he ran down a small alley way, fool.

When you turned down you saw him get closed lined by a large arm falling to the ground and slamming his head against the pavement. You looked at the man who had helped you, he had a ball cap on with sun glasses and a short full face beard.

“Thank you,” you said slightly winded as you walked up to get your bag, starting to really feel the pain in your feet now that you’ve stopped running.

“Your feet,” the man muttered pointing behind you to the bloodied foot prints you left. The voice it was so familiar…

As you got closer you starred at his face intently and it clicked.

“Rogers?”

No sooner the words left your mouth he had you up against the alley wall holding your cheeks and kissing you with fierce abandonment. You pulled his hat and sunglasses off let them fall to the ground.

It caught you off guard, the force and wildness as your lips crashed and his tongue demand entrance to your mouth which you gladly allowed. As he was mapping your mouth his arms began to trail down gripping your ass roughly. On instinct you wrapped your legs around his waist, he gladly held you up.

You pulled away to catch your breath and the moment you took another breath he was on you once more, biting your lip pulling a soft gasp from your mouth. He groaned grinding his pelvis into you, both you feeling the dampness in your bikini bottoms.

You could feel him against you, hard and hot. Just as you started to feel dizzy from his demanding kisses he kissed his way down your neck, biting then gently caressing the bite mark with his tongue only to then suck on the same spot. His beard rubbing against your skin in just the right way, you couldn’t help but whimper and dig your nails into his deltoids.

He called out your name, voice deep and gravelly against your neck.

“Please,” you gasped out, not sure what you were pleading for, more or less? His touch was so rough, so much more forceful than any time before. His hands were continuously kneading your ass and helping roll your hips into him with great force.

You felt his breath against your neck, it started shallow but you could feel it begin to slow, his hands just holding you.

Finally he pulled his head out from your neck and looked you in the eyes. There was an unsettling darkness in his look, something unfamiliar to you.

He opened his mouth to say something but a groan from the man he knocked out stopped him. You both looked toward him, his eyes remaining closed but head moving a little. Steve let you down to your feet. Once on them you gasped at the forgotten pain from glass and gravel in your feet.

Steve glared at you, “How could you chase after someone without shoes on and in only a bikini?” sounding like a parent scolded a child.

“My shoes and clothes were in the bag. Might I add I have a robe on!” you matching him with tone of a petulant child.

He rolled his eyes “See through robe,” he picked up the side of you robe to make his point, “What do you think was going through those men’s minds as they saw you chase after this thief?”

“Look at that girl run?” You tried to joke but it was met with a seething glare.

“They were looking at what’s MINE and ogling it.” You could feel the bass in his voice, it scared and excited you. What was going on with Steve?

Before you could vocalize your thoughts he put his sunglasses and ball cap back on, then grabbed both bags the thief had and held them out to you. You took both and squeaked when he lifted you up with one arm under the bend of your knees and the other under your upper back. You placed both bags in your lap and wrapped an arm around his neck.

He began to walk further in the alley way shadows before you spoke up “These aren’t both mine!”

“You’ll have to get the other one to its rightful owner after you’ve put some actual clothes on and I’ve treated your feet.” You nodded silently, his tone still rough.

He took you back to your motel room, how he knew it was yours was bothering you. What was even more bothersome was his silence as he sat you at the edge of the bathtub, robe tossed on the floor and he began to run water while sitting on the toilet seat adjacent.

“Steve…” you broke the silence.

“How long have you been following me?” He cleared his throat and focused on cleaning out your feet.

“How long have you been trying to…” you winced as glass was being pulled from your feet “…find me?”

He pulled the last of the glass from your left foot and looked at you directly.

“You made it hard to find you, never staying in one spot for long,” he went to work on your right foot avoiding your gaze. “I was impressed; you never lost your edge for hiding huh?”

The implications related to your past were not lost on you. A past you worked hard to keep from most, but not him.

“I’m not as good as Nat but I certainly can stay hidden until I want to be found.” Silence encased the bathroom as he worked on your foot and you worked hard to ignore the feeling.

“8 months.” He spoke so softly you almost missed it. He had finished cleaning your feet and started wrapping them in gauze.

“Hm? 8 months?” He didn’t respond until he finished bandaging your feet and pulling them in to his lap.

He stared down at your feet, caressing your ankles. “We got to Wakanda,” you were right, “and Bucky wanted to go back under while they worked out how to reverse the effects of Hydra’s brainwashing.”

He raised his head to face you. “I started looking for you the moment he went under. I regretted not asking you to come with me.” He leaned forward placing his hand against you cheek, you immediately nuzzled into his hand keeping eye contact.

“When Nat heard about mercenary for hire making way along the coast of Morocco I had a suspicion it was you. I found you here a week ago, checking into this motel.”

“Why did you wait so long to talk to me?”

“Things have changed, I have changed. I’m not Captain America.” You slid into his lap, his hand gripping our thighs as you steadied yourself.

“You never were Captain America to me…” You push his hair falling onto his forehead to the side. It’s so disheveled; it was weird seeing him without it in perfect condition but you liked this more.

“We’re meant to grow Steve, it’s okay if you changed.” You kept gently caressing his face.

“I almost fucked you in that alley way. I would have too had that thief not started to wake up.”

You gasped at his words as he moved his hands to your hips sliding you closer to him in his lap, pushing you pelvis against his.

“In fact I think I would have liked him to have woken up, seen my cock buried deep in your tight pussy.” you whimpered as you grinded on him, his words scaring you as they were not him but excited you none less.

“Know this body belongs to me,” his hands smacked both your ass cheeks and pushed you flush to his hot confined throbbing cock. You gave a startled yelp that turned into a moan.

“That YOU belong to me,” he stood up, your legs wrapping around his waist again.

“You belong with me, by my side, forever,” the last part he spoke with hope, as if he wanted you to agree.

“Just ask,” you implored as he laid you on the bed, your knees bent and legs spread to make room for his giant body.

His eyes narrowed at you.

“I’m way past asking permission,” he growled and ripped your bikini top off, you moaned as you felt the fabric tighten then snap against his strength.

“Steve,” you tried to get him to talk to you more but he ignored you in favor of pulling his own shirt off then attacking your neck as he was in the alley.

This time instead he was roughing sucking on your neck while his hands roughing massaged your breasts.

You responded by wrapping your legs around his waist and pulling his hips down to grind against you. His rough attention was driving you insane.

To be without him for so long and come back with this force, this possessiveness nearly made you cum.

He continued to suck on your neck working to leave a mark, a reminder of what he told you. One of his hands moved inside your bikini bottoms.

Slowly rubbing a few circles around your clit you gasped and dug your nails into his shoulders, the sensation was too much. Just then he plunged two of his fingers inside you and curled up, continuing to rub random patterns against you clit with his thumb.

You lifted your upper body up, mewling at the sensation.

“Look at how responsive your body is to me, your pussy aching for me.” he growled into your ear, stopping his ministrations on your neck.

“Tell me, have you been taking care of yourself while I’ve been gone?” He lifted his head up looking you in the eyes a darkness there that was daring you to lie.

Your cheeks were already flush with arousal but you could feel them warm even more with embarrassment. “Ye-yes.” you got out meekly.

He chuckled, it was a dark chuckle, something you’ve never heard from him before.

“Did you think of me nightly doll face?” he continued thrusting his fingers into you at an increasing pace. You cried out gripping his forearm, it was almost too much.

“Oh no no,” he growled and increased his pace, curling his fingers ever so slightly reaching for your special spot. “You’re so tight around my fingers,”

“I missed feeling you wrapped around my cock.” He began to unzip his pants while speeding up his rubbing of your clit and adding a third finger inside your dripping pussy.

“Yes, you know what I want,” your finger nails dug into his arm. “You’re going to give this to me.”

Your eyes widened as you felt the pressure build up inside you. It was too much, this was nothing compared to what you could do for yourself. It was almost better than how it used to be between you two.

“Steve,” you gasped out the pressure building up at a scary pace.

“Yes doll face? What do you need?” A smirk played at his lips.

“Please-” but you couldn’t finish as you felt the dam release. It was over powering as your eyes rolled into the back of your head your hands going limp against his arm.

You could feel the wetness seep out of you.

“Fuck, you’re always so good for me.” you barely heard Steve’s words as the blood was rushing loudly through you, your body not able to come down as he continued to rub your clit but remove his fingers from inside you.

“Too much!” You gasped out, your hands trying to pry his hand off you. Your legs start to flail.

“No!” He ordered and you stilled. He pulled his cock from his pants, it was red and you could almost make out the throbbing veins from above.

You knew after 8 months without him it was going to be a bit of an adjustment given how long and thick he was.

“8 months you made me search for you,” you felt the head of his cock pressing against your opening. His words full of frustration and indicating he had been thinking about the time between as well.

Before you could express your concerns he plunged in. When you both felt him bottom out a mixture of moans and gasps were released between the two of you.

His fingers stopped rubbing you clit letting both of you revel in the feeling of finally being together again. He shifted his hips and you moaned out his name.

“That’s it, you know who you belong to.” he pulled himself out until just the tip was inside you.

You wrapped your legs back around his waist trying to pull him in. He made a sound of disapproval and pulled both your legs from around his waist and in front of him bending you in half.

“This is how I’ve wanted you,” his voice was graveled again, you saw the darkness in his eyes as he starred down at you. His body completely covering you.

“Helpless beneath me, all mine, and not pushing me to ask for it, but letting me take it.” He plunged back in at that, you cried out at the force of his thrust.

“Not too loud doll face, you don’t want to cause any concern have someone see you like this,” he smirked again, “or do you want someone to see you like this.”

You whimpered at the thought, finding it scary and turning you on even more at the same time.

He started a punishing pace, staring right into your eyes, as you held your legs together to the side of your face. His look was relief mixed with anger and that raw desire you were used to from him. You were trying to hold back your cries. He placed his hands on the back of your lower thighs, using it as leverage to continue his pace.

“Please,” You whimpered out, “Steve.”

He looked down at you raising an eyebrow.

“Come on,” he spoke your name tauntingly, “All you have to do is ask right?”

You groaned out, using your words against you. With every moment you were seeing a different side of Steve. You weren’t sure yet if it was good or bad but it certainly lead to a lot of pleasure.

“Cum, I want to-” you gasped out as he started rubbing you clit.

“Do it, cum on my cock,” his force was wearing down the bed frame, it began to creak and shake with each thrust.

You closed you eyes the intensity too much for you to even look at him, this was four times as intense as the last one. You tried to grasp anything you could to ground yourself.

You opened your eyes as he grabbed one of your hands, pulling to his face he kissed the back of your hand. Never breaking eye contact as he continued to thrust and rub your clit through your orgasm.

“Be good for me now, I want to feel you cum on my cock again,” Your eyes widened as you tried to shake your head no but it was too late.

“Remember I’m not asking,” he warned.

Another orgasm crashed over you unexpectedly from all the over stimulation.  Suddenly his pace picked up with urgency.

“I’m gonna cum in you doll,” you shook your head no. You knew it wasn’t safe.

“Steve, wait I’m-” he kept his pace up.

“I know, and I don’t care,” you felt yourself edging towards another orgasm at his words. What was wrong with you?!

“I’m going to fill you up with my seed,” he groaned at the image in his mind. “Your stomach round with OUR child. That’s what I want.”

You came again, it was too much, HE was too much, you felt your vision swirling.

“No, stay with me.” He quickly pulled your legs back around his waist. His hips movement becoming erratic and desperate.

He groan out your name as he came inside of you just as he said he would. His hips jerked as he continued to cum in you.

When he was spent, he didn’t pull out. Still hard he remained inside you.

“Steve, I can’t-”

“Sssh, I know I know.” He rolled over pulling you with him, staying inside of you.

A soft whimper escaped your lips as you sat up, feeling him shift inside you. He groaned and griped your hips.  

He bent his knees behind you and you leaned back on them. He thrust upwards once, watching your breasts bounce with the movement brought a smile to his face.

You giggled softly at his actions. The sensations making you giddy from all the endorphins running through you.

He felt like a drug induced dream almost. You frowned slightly, what if he wasn’t real?

You bent down towards him and kissed him hard, running your fingers through his hair.

“Please don’t disappear on me,” you pleaded against his mouth.

He looked at you in shock.

“What are you talking about?“he sat up pushing you up with him.

"What if they find you? Or Bucky again? You’ll go off and I don’t want to come between you two but-”

He kissed you gently, his hand caressing your cheek.

“You are mine and I am yours.” he flexed his hips proving his point and causing you to let out a moan.

“Prove that I’m yours,” he goaded you as he laid back.

You smiled at him as you placed you hands on his chest, and started to move your hips back and forth. The groans he emitted empowered you to speed up your movements.

Even with your current speed it wasn’t enough for Steve. He started thrusting upwards, you gasped in shock, everything was still so tinder.

With his feet planted flat on the bed and knees bent he started thrusting up into with precision. One of his hands shot up to grip your neck gently and the other began rubbing your clit.

You started to squirm and moan on top of him. It overwhelmed you but you didn’t want it to stop.

He tightened his grip around your neck, you went almost limp letting your weight fall on it and he smiled.

“Someone likes to be choked?” His words were accusatory but his tone was pure desire.

You meekly nodded your head followed by a struggled moan as he quickened his pace on your clit.

“Please, please,” you hoarse out within his grip.

“Don’t worry, I’ll give you that baby,” he started pounding into you from below.

“I can feel you tighten around me at the thought, I’ll give you my seed, but you have to be good.”

You immediately started cumming, pulsing around his cock as he continued his brutal pace.

“You really want it don’t you?” his hand left your clit to rub your lower abdomen.

“Do you feel me right there?” He pushed down and you flooded his lap cumming again. He groaned not expecting you to spasm around him again, he could take no more and with one final thrust he filled you again groaning out your name.

This time as the darkness began to swirl your vision it embraced you fully.

When you came to you first felt a warm damp feeling brushing over our inner thighs and groin. You slowly opened your eyes to see Steve still naked wiping you down with a warm wash cloth.

He looked up and smiled sheepishly when he saw you were awake.

“I may have treated you too roughly,” he admitted remorse clear in his voice.

“I’m sorry I lost control, after I kissed you the first time I could think of nothing but possessing you in every way possible.” He looked down as he continued to clean you.

“We can shower in a little bit once your energy is recouped.” He set the wash cloth on the bedside table and crawled up next to you and pulled you into his chest.

You curled up into him enjoying the rhythmic beat of his heart.

When you awoke again it was dark. Steve was walking about into the room, fully clothed and with food.

You smiled at him, sitting up in the bed causing the bed sheet that covered you to slip down. He hummed when he saw your chest.

You went to pull the sheet up but he spoke up “Don’t cover up, I love to see what is mine,” he growled.

“You better feed me before you start that up again.” He chuckled and sat the food down on the bed.

You two ate in silence, enjoying the food and each other’s company.

Once you were both finished it was time for a much needed shower. You wanted to shower together but that tiny bath tub proved to be ill accommodating to a super solider plus one.

You lay in the bed satisfied watching Steve put on his boxer briefs and get into bed with you.

“We’re heading to Wakanda tomorrow, any loose ends you need to tie up here before we go?”

You looked at him scandalously; did he just TELL you what you were doing?

“Steve, I have a few things may take a day or two-”

“Find a way to do it in one, our rendezvous is at 1900 hour tomorrow,” he looked at you with a stern gaze.

You went to voice your protest but before you could he shut it down.

“I’m not leaving you behind, I’m not asking either.” He laid back and pulled on top of his chest.

“Do you need help?” Caleb wanders closer, peering over your shoulder at the bubbling pot, and you throw him back a smile. “Nope. You’ve done enough. You don’t have to stay. I’ve got it all handled.”

He ignores you, stepping right up behind you until his chest brushes your back. “Surely that’s not right.” He hums, breath warm against your ear. “My big sister is preparing this nice dinner for us… At least let me keep you company.”

You roll your eyes, even as you feel your body stiffening up. “Whatever.”

His arms slide around your waist, pulling you back against him in a tight hug. “Hmm… smells good.”

“It’s your favorite dish.” You say hoarsely as his nose nuzzles into the side of your neck. “Yeah… it is.”

You clear your throat. “How has work been treating you? Are you sleeping well? Getting enough rest? Any big missions coming up?” You blabber, your last question choked out as one of his hands drifts slowly down your front.

Caleb chuckles, the sound vibrating from his chest into your back. “Couple of missions next week, nothing too intense. After that, I’ll have some time off.” His voice is sweet as his fingers play with the waistband of your leggings. “Girlfriend’s been talking about taking a weekend trip to some cabin up north. She thinks it’ll be romantic.”

“That sounds nice.” You manage, mouth dry as you shift in his tight embrace, the anxious energy making you squirm against him immediately snuffed out when you feel his hard length poking against your ass. 

“Mm, yeah. She’s been really excited about it.” His hand slips inside your pants, warm palm pressing over your underwear first, then sliding beneath the fabric. You bite your lip and grip the edge of the counter. “She seems good for you.”

Caleb hums, circling your clit in lazy strokes. “She is sweet.” His voice stays perfectly casual, as his fingers play with your pussy, and when they dip down to gather the unbidden wetness weeping from your hole, you jerk, thighs pressing together instinctively.

“Easy.” He chuckles, nudging your legs apart with his knee. “Clumsy jiejie.”

“Caleb, honey… time’s running out.” You say, voice strained as you clutch the counter tighter. “You gotta go pick up your girlfriend.”

“Hmm… in a bit. She texted earlier saying she might be a little late. ” He grunts, pressing a kiss just below your ear. “We got time.”

Still, he withdraws his hand anyway and you let out a sigh of relief. But it’s short-lived, quickly replaced by dread as hooks his fingers into your pants and underwear, shoving them down just past your hips. You hear the sound of him spitting into his hand before he presses it between your asscheeks, rubbing the spit around your entrance for a second then sinking two thick fingers into your pussy. The sudden stretch stings, but you’re no stranger to the pain. Your little brother has put you through worse. 

“She wants me to meet her family properly soon, you know.” He continues, his voice growing huskier as he pumps his fingers in and out of you, scissoring them to force you open. “Thinks we’re getting serious.”

Dread bubbles in your chest and your pussy tightens around his fingers as you hear the sound of a zipper being undone.  Then you feel the hot press of his cock against your ass, the tip smearing precum as he rubs it over your skin.

“Yeah?” You whisper, barely able to focus on the conversation. “That’s good, didi. I’m happy for you two.”

“Are you now?” Caleb scoffs, withdrawing his fingers from you and your heart rate spikes up. You know what comes next. 

“The food is almost ready.” You speak up quickly, “You should go pick her up now or you’ll be late and the food will get cold.”

“Don’t worry, traffic’s light this time of evening.” He brushes you off, lining his cock up with your pussy from behind. Before you could protest again, he pushes inside you in one harsh thrust.

Your eyes squeeze shut, a broken whimper slipping past your lips as he forces you open on his cock. He’s always been big, and no matter how many times he does this to you, your body never quite gets used to the stretch. You feel every inch, every vein, as he sinks deep until his hips are flush against your ass, buried inside you to the hilt.

“I won’t let your effort go to waste, jiejie.” He promises, voice already a little shaky. Your mouth falls open in a silent cry as he starts moving in deep thrusts that drag against every sensitive spot inside you. Your pants and underwear are still bunched around your thighs, trapping your legs and making you feel even more exposed and helpless.

Caleb leans back slightly, one hand leaving your hip before you hear the soft click of his phone unlocking, followed by the unmistakable sound of the camera shutter.

It's not the first time he's done this. His phone is filled with hundreds of pictures of you going back years. 

“Just a little keepsake.” He whispers cheekily, “For when I’m missing my favorite girl.”

You don’t say anything as he puts his phone away and leans over your again, chest pressing flush to your back, caging you against the counter. It’s always better to let him do whatever he wants. Makes it go quicker. 

“Fuck… you feel so good.” He groans, the words slipping out between thrusts. His breath comes out hotter now as his pace picks up, rocking you forward with every snap of his hips. “So tight for me… even when you’re pretending you don’t want it.”

You bite down hard on your lip to keep your mouth shut. Just let him say what he wants. Don’t contradict him. Be nice and quiet and this will be over soon. You repeat those words in your head like a mantra. They’ve gotten you through so much worse. 

But Caleb isn’t satisfied with your quiet surrender today. One of his hands slides up under your tank top to squeeze your breasts roughly, while the other slips between your legs, playing with your little clit the way he has mastered over the years. 

“Right now, she’s probably back home trying to pick out a nice dress to impress her boyfriend’s big sister, all while you’ve got me balls deep in your tight pussy.” He pants, mouthing at your neck in wet, stinging kisses. You’ll have to wear a high collar tonight. It’s okay. You’ve got a collection of them thanks to your didi who is fucking you more roughly now, his pace turning punishing at your continued silence. “You like that, don’t you? Like proving who I really belong to.”

You shake your head despite yourself, and immediately regret it. You know better than this. 

Caleb’s hand fists in your hair and yanks your head back. “Don't lie to me. Look at what you're wearing. You wanted it.”

You let out a helpless mewl. You know you should've changed. You're such an idiot. 

You bite down on your tongue, tasting blood as you hold back from shaking your head again. He scoffs, driving into you harshly, making your knees buckle as the strength goes out of your body. He catches you easily, arm wrapping around your waist to hold you up as he drives into you faster, and angles his hips to hit that spot that makes stars burst behind your eyes. 

“Still won't admit it? You like to pretend I'm taking you against your will? Is that what turns you on, sister? I can feel how wet you are around me, dripping down my balls.” He mocks and you wish he would just cum already. Why is he being so cruel today? “But it hurts my ego, jiejie. Hmm… maybe I should cancel that weekend trip and spend it with you instead. We won’t go anywhere, just stay here and I can fuck you on every surface of this damn apartment until you admit it. How does that sound, jie?” 

You panic. “No, Caleb. We had a deal, remember, baby?”

“I remember. Do you?” He asks gruffly, hips still snapping into you. “You were supposed to let me visit once a week, but you kept cancelling. Wouldn’t even answer my calls or texts. I almost called the whole thing off.”

So this is what it’s about.

“No, no, I’m sorry.” You whimper. “I was just busy—”

You weren’t. You had hoped that now that he got a longterm girlfriend that you can finally start to wean him off his sick fixation on you. Clearly, it was too soon. 

“Liar.” He whines, suddenly sounding like your precious little brother that you’d do anything for. Anything. Even let him cross a line that should never be crossed between siblings. “You were being a bad jiejie. Trying to get out of your duties to your little brother.” 

“I’m sorry, baby. Sorry for being bad. I won't neglect you again, I promise.” You choke out, your pussy burning from the rough way he’s treating you. Luckily, you know how to push him over the edge and end it. “I missed you, baby… I missed your cock inside me. Please, won’t you cum inside jiejie and fill her up?”

His hips stutter.

“Yeah?” He groans, leaning over you, breath hot against your ear. “You want it, jie?”

“Yes, baby.” You moan, giving him exactly what he craves. “I want to take care of you. Let go for your big sister.”

“Okay, jiejie.” He whimpers, “Whatever you want. Gonna give it all to you.” 

Caleb’s thrusts grow erratic, his hips snapping against your ass desperately, until finally he buries himself deep one last time, his grip on your waist tightening painfully as a loud groan tears from his throat

“Fuck, take it. Take every drop.” He rasps against your ear.

You feet the hot, thick pulse of his cock as he comes inside you, rope after rope of warm cum flooding your pussy. Your walls flutter around him helplessly, your own orgasm hovering just out of reach, leaving you trembling and needy, but you’re not going to ask him for release.

“Fuck, I love you, jie.” He moans, turning your head to the side and slotting his lips against yours, his tongue pushing past your lips. You let him kiss you, drooling into your mouth as he grinds against your ass, his cock hardening again inside you. 

“Baby… baby, the dinner.” You plead desperately against his mouth and he grunts in dissatisfaction, biting down on your bottom lip punishingly. You flinch back with a hiss of pain, feeling a warm drop of blood trickling down your chin. His eyes fixate on it, pupils blown wide as he leans in and licks it away, groaning at the taste, his cock twitching inside your cum-filled pussy.

“Caleb.” You repeat, trying to sound firm but your voice comes out shaky. You know you can’t let him lose himself again. 

He huffs in frustration but finally pulls out. The wet, obscene sound of his cock leaving your soaked hole makes your cheeks burn with shame, as does the maddening emptiness it leaves inside you. You barely have a second to steady yourself before he yanks your underwear and leggings back up your thighs, tugging them into place haphazardly. The fabric presses tight against your dripping pussy, trapping his warm cum inside.

“Don’t shower, okay?” He tells you, voice still rough from his climax as he tucks himself back into his pants and zips up. “Keep it all inside you.”

You balk, eyes widening in horror. “I can’t sit across from your girlfriend like this!”

Caleb turns you around and pins you against the cabinet with his body, one hand reaching up to gently brush a strand of hair behind your ear. He has a serene smile on his face, but his beautiful sunset eyes are dark and stormy, and it makes your heart ache. Oh, how you’d give anything to bring sunshine back into his eyes. 

“You will.” He says, thumb tracing your swollen bottom lip. “Because you’re the one who wants this little show to continue.”

You open your mouth to speak, but he pushes his thumb between your lips, pressing down on your tongue to silence you.

“After we have dinner and I go to drop her off, you will wait for me in your bed. You can pretend to be asleep all you want, but that won't stop me. And if I come back and find you’d cleaned up…” His voice drops low, and you shiver. “I’ll send her the pictures of you stuffed full of my cock.”

Your stomach turns with dread, and you stand there paralysed as he pulls his thumb from your mouth and replaces it with his tongue, more gentle this time. When he pulls back, his voice is soft again.

“Be good for me tonight, okay? You’ve got a lot to make up to me, jie.” He brushes his wet thumb across your cheek, then flashes you a sweet smile when you nod obediently. 

“See you soon, jie.” He presses one last soft peck to your lips before he turns and walks away. The front door clicks shut behind him, leaving you standing alone in your kitchen, pants still slightly crooked, thighs pressed together, and your brother’s cum slowly seeping out of your aching pussy.