cherryapplefish

[cherryapplefish]

cw: blowjobs lol, dubcon, gagging/choking, pseudocest, sex, female reader | 1.2k words | Caleb x You

crossposted on my X and ao3

you're sliding down caleb's body before he realizes it, too lost in the pleasure of your hands tracing over hard muscle to register the fact that you're mouthing at the hem of his jeans. the sound of his button popping goes in one ear and out the other and it's only when he feels your mouth, hot and wet, against his briefs does he hiss and scramble up.

"wait-"

"please," you interrupt, eyes wide and lips pursed into a pout. it's devious, the way you stare up at him. you know he's always had a hard time saying no to you but even more so than before, it's difficult for him to deny you when he's hard against your mouth and his mind is clouded with pleasure.

"i haven't showered," he argues weakly and your lips purse together harder, stubborn as you begin to peel down his briefs.

"i tell you that all the time," you grumble. though he's not even fighting you any longer, just letting you do as you please. "yet you still always go down."

he can't help but huff out a laugh because you're right. you do always protest about being dirty when you've just gotten back from work or exercising and yet caleb will still throw your leg over his shoulder and work his mouth over you.

"okay," he relents but you've already got him naked from the waist down anyways. cock springing out and leaking against his stomach as you toss his clothing somewhere in the room.

he welcomes you back up with a soft hum, combing his hands through your hair as he pulls you closer. he bites back a grin when you stare incredulously at it before tugging you closer, encouraging.

"go on," he coaxes. "you wanted to try, didn't you?"

your cheeks heat up as you look back up at him, a stubborn look set in your eyes. you're never one to back down from a challenge and especially not when it's a challenge coming from caleb.

you lean forward and take him into your mouth, huffing through your nose as the taste of salt, sweat, and caleb hit your tongue. your eyes dilate, moaning around him before you push forward, trying to take him deeper into your mouth

you’re only halfway down when you gag, eyes watering and then you look up to see caleb lost in pleasure and shaking. your eyes go wide, as he groans, fingers pressing down onto the back of your scalp and pushing.

"meimei," he moans and you feel it shoot straight down to your core, heat licking between your legs. your thighs squirm together in an attempt to satisfy the desire for friction but that does nothing and so instead, you cant your hips forward and rub yourself against caleb's leg.

"look at you," he whispers, thumb stroking over your temple as his hips roll further into your mouth. you do your best not to gag again but cry out in protest when the head of his cock brushes against the back of your throat. you choke around his cock and pull back to rid yourself of the feeling of your throat closing and trying to push caleb out.

"shh, it's okay," he coos. mean and mocking. how can he go from sweet and indulging to a bully within seconds?

"you wanted to take it. let gege give it to you. relax."

you're half tempted to bite down and lord knows he would deserve it. you don't though. of course.

instead, you relax your throat the best you can and take him further into your mouth. he's hot and heavy, your jaw aching around him while your tongue moves pathetically along the underside of his cock.

"fuck. yes, just like that."

the encouragement spurs you on and slowly, you begin to bob your head. your eyes stay on him as you move up and down his cock in the slow, familiar way he likes to fuck you.

he's huffing beneath you, panted moans that almost sound like whimpers but sounds you always revel in nonetheless. when you get to the tip, you swirl your tongue over the head, tasting the precum that gathers there and he lets out another groan.

"who taught you that," he asks, a hint of irritation in his voice but you just grin and refuse to answer him, competition in your mind as you fill your mouth with him once more.

no one taught you that. how could you ever care to put your mouth on anyone else when your gege is the only one you've wanted all these years? if anything, you'd fantasized of it. of this, tasting him, having him in your mouth, having him come apart under your mouth and hands.

besides, why answer him when you're eager to make him cum? it's a competition but both of you will be winning at the end of this.

"meimei," he calls, brows furrowed together. is it irritation? is it frustration? is it him trying to keep himself from spilling down your throat too soon?

"no one," you finally breathe out when your mouth comes off with a pop. you mouth down the sides, watch him him deflate in just the slightest and yet tense immediately after as you tongue at his balls. "i just want you. i've always wanted you."

the hands in your hair are suddenly pulling you up and your mouth is no longer on his cock but pressing to his. eager hands push themselves between your legs and the next thing you know, your panties are being pushed to the side and he's bringing you over his cock.

"gege," you whine when the head nudges against your entrance, dripping with your arousal. "i wasn't done."

"sorry," he whispers and yet his tone is anything but. "need you. you can't say that and expect me to not."

there's no need to stretch you. not even with the size of caleb's cock and he proves this when his fingers dig into the back of your thighs and pulls you down, down, down.

you cry out into his mouth, keening as your walls squeeze around him. your teeth catch around his bottom lip in retaliation of suddenly being entered and he groans, laughs into your mouth before his tongue forces it's way inside.

"sorry," he says again but you know he barely means it. he's not apologetic at all as he fucks up into you, pace quick, needy, wanting nothing more than to feel you around him.

and then, "-love you. i love you. i love you."

you barely process it. this time, it's your turn for the words to go in one ear and out the other. all you can register is the feeling of caleb's cock pressing against your sweet spot and the sound of his thighs hitting yours every time he fucks in. and yes, maybe the faint chants of caleb's affection for you burn themselves into your brain.

"ge, gege, ge."

you call for him stupidly. you call for him in hopes that he'll understand but that's the great thing about your gege isn't it? gege knows everything about you. he knows how you like to be kissed, how you like to be touched, and he knows when you're about to cum on his cock.

"i know," he shushes. "i know. gege's here. cum for gege."

he brings this on with fingers to your clit, rubs quick and hard circles into you over and over again until you're clenching around him and crying, milking his own orgasm right out of him with yours.

[cherryapplefish]

[Translated Comic] Caleb's Shyness

Original artist: 短腿球砸

Source ll Permission

❀ Please do not repost ❀

[cherryapplefish]

😍

[cherryapplefish]

cw: pussy slapping/impact play (?), dacryphilia, gege mention at the end

The first slap of Caleb's hand to your pussy has you jumping in surprise, draws a surprised moan straight out of you as your eyes shoot open in shock. Your hands immediately scramble to his biceps, needing to touch him, needing to ground yourself.

Your gaze meets violet eyes, mischievous and daring before he does it again. This time, the sting travels up your hips and your walls clench around air.

"Caleb," you call but you're not sure if you're scolding him or asking for more. All you know is that Caleb's unable to wipe off the smirk donning his face, studying you, watching to see how far he can push it.

"What," he asks, mocking in just the slightest. His fingers press into your folds, dip into your dripping mess and then drag the wetness along your cunt. "Do you want me to stop?"

You can only purse your mouth in response, tongue between your teeth as you bite back a "yes" because the truth is, you don't want him to stop. But you don't want to admit that you want him to keep going. How could you dare to let him win?

It's a losing battle anyways. (Is it?)

Caleb laughs at your silence and then brings his hand down once more. Harder. Hard enough that tears spring to your eyes from impact.

He swallows the cry from your mouth with his own, tongue slipping in to taste your sweet whimpers as he fucks his fingers into you until you’re reaching your peak.

He leans in after, tongue sliding up your cheeks to clean the tears that trail down them.

“Shh, it’s okay. You’re such a good girl. Gege is sorry. Xia Yizhou shouldn’t be so mean to you.”

[cherryapplefish]

tags: pseudo-incest, non-con, light bondage, rough fucking

Stepfather Sylus dragging you into his & your mother’s bedroom as soon as your mother leaves for a trip. His agitation is obvious with the way he fucks you with little prep, covering your squeals with his hand as he pinches and rolls your sensitive nub between his fingers before he impatiently spreads your folds wide to shove his thick cock into your cunny.

He wanted to take you apart slowly, to show you how fathers are supposed to cherish their daughters with a gentle touch and a patient tongue. But your bratty attitude and loud nos had him at the end of his patience which led to the rough fucking as his own outburst. He purposely situates you in front of the mirror while he pounds into your cunt from the back. Your grappling arms restrained with his tie and your mouth full with his tongue. He pauses to lick your tears as he becomes even meaner when you don’t stop pleading for him to please please take it out-

His hands tweak at your nipples just a tad harshly , more punishment for not being a good daughter who should listen to what her father says. It’s inly when your body grows slack to accommodate his brusque pace that he finally kisses you deeply once more as he fills your tight cunt with his kids

[cherryapplefish]

Caleb x You | Touch of Sin | 2.9k

DDDNE!

Rating: Explicit

CW: pseudocest, dubcon, fingering, slight toy usage

Grandma is supposed to be gone for the weekend. Something about a trip to visit an old friend and, “Are you sure you don’t want me to ask Caleb to come home? I won’t be back until Monday.” 

You wave her off with a smile, toes tapping against the doorframe as you bounce. Antsy. 

You’re eager to send her off and get the house to yourself for the weekend. Especially now that the package that was delivered yesterday is waiting to be opened. 

You watch her until the taxi drives off, wait for five minutes in the living room to make sure she doesn’t come back, and then you run for your bedroom. Even though no one is home, you make sure to lock your door. You can never be too careful about what you’re about to do. 

Pulling the box out from under your bed, you begin to unwrap it. 

Inside is a little pink dildo. Just something small but something that was supposed to be enough. 

You’d bought it on a whim.  

Your friends had been huddled together talking about having sex now that you were all in college and when it’d come to you, you’d merely given them a sheepish look before they teased you. Everyone had a boyfriend, someone who had touched them with an affection you’ve yet to know. 

When they asked if you had someone you liked, you’d said no but if galaxy colored eyes came to mind, you didn’t breathe a word. 

Instead, you’d gone home that night, entered incognito on your phone, and placed an order. 

Whatever. Was sex even that good? Was…touching yourself even that good? 

Well, you were about to find out.

The silicone feels…different against your fingers. You touch the tip of it, run your finger down the length, testing. Were you just supposed to put it inside? 

Nervous, your gaze flickers from the door down to your shorts. Your teeth worry around your bottom lip before eventually, you give in. Your shorts are shucked off, thrown somewhere in your room and then your underwear follows. 

The tip of the dildo is cold as you press it to your folds. Your walls flutter at the touch, clenching to keep it out and you bite your lip in determination. 

You want to try. You want to know what all the hype’s about. You want to feel good. 

You think back to your conversation with your friends, try to remember their experiences as they described having sex. 

“It was so wet and loud,” your friend whispers, her mouth covered to try and keep the conversation amongst yourselves. “The bed was practically soaked after.” 

Wet, you think to yourself. God, this was humiliating. What the hell were you supposed to do? 

With a huff, you squeeze your eyes shut and press forward. 

Part of this could be resolved by doing some further investigation but there’s no way you’re going to get caught watching porn on grandma’s WiFi. Caleb checked it enough that you were scared he’d see what you were looking up. 

Determination at the forefront of your mind, you press the head of the dildo in, pink silicone fighting to get past your walls and yelp as pain shoots up your spine. Without realizing it, you fight it, core clenching to keep the dildo from pressing in. 

A knock on the door has another yelp falling from your lips, your eyes snapping open as you toss the dildo on the blanket. 

“Pipsqueak?”

Caleb’s voice is muffled through the door and yet it’s still enough to set you off in a panic. 

“One second,” you shout back, burying the dildo beneath the blanket. You scramble to grab your shorts in a haste to get to the door, kick your underwear off to the side in hopes that he won’t realize you’d been naked from the bottom down just seconds ago. 

“Are you alright in there? I thought I heard you hurt yourself,” he says. The doorknob shakes as he tries to open it and you thank yourself for having locked it. 

“I’m fine,” you grumble out before your fingers turn the lock and open the door.

Your face burns as you look up at Caleb and yet, you can’t even really find the guts to look at him? Who even dares to stare at their older brother after having just tried to masturbate?

”What are you doing here? I told gran you didn’t have to come home,” you grumble. Caleb just laughs, reaching out to fix the strands of hair that are out of place on your head. 

“When she told me you’d be alone, I thought to come check on you anyways,” he replies. His fingers linger as they skirt down the side of your cheek. You miss the way his eyes study you, how he catches the light sheen of sweat on your skin. 

Eventually, his hand drops and he leans against the doorframe. His eyes flicker behind you to your room, always taller, with the advantage to snoop and see what you’re up to. 

“What were you getting into? Guess it’s a good thing I came to check on you. Sounds like you were about to hurt yourself,” he teases. 

“Nothing,” you shoot back. Too quick. Too defensive. 

Caleb knows you better than you know yourself. Of course he knows you’re lying but at this moment, even an idiot would know you were up to something.  

“What? Got a boy you’re hiding,” Caleb asks. He’s all smiles as he says it but you’re too panicked to realize how tight it is as he forces his way in. 

Oh brother. What did he take you for? 

“I’m not hiding a boy,” you argue, palms pressed to his chest but your elbows give in without much fight as he steps his way into your room and glances around. 

“You’re being awfully secretive,” he continues to tease as he walks over to your closet. The door opens with a swish but no boy. While he’s distracted, you scramble to your desk, grabbing the package the toy came in and hiding it behind yourself.

“And you’re being awfully nosy. Get out of my room, ge,” you argue. 

You hear him huff out a laugh as he scans the room. His eyes don’t falter at the lump under your blanket and you let out a sigh of relief when instead, they fall onto you. 

Except maybe you relax too soon because suddenly, your hands feel light when moments ago, the packaging had been in them. 

To your horror, Caleb is floating the package over with a smirk on his face. 

“So you are hiding something,” he says and he looks all too delighted as the package plops into his hands. You make to grab for it when suddenly, an invisible weight presses you back against the desk. 

“What’d you buy, pipsqueak? Something for me?”

Dread floods through you as Caleb pulls open the tabs of the box and then stills. 

For a second, he says nothing and then his gaze darkens as it flickers over to you. Your breath catches in your throat as the blood rushes to your cheeks. 

The both of you stand there in silence, the tension suffocating the both of you and then you feel the weight of his evol loosen. You surge forward to grab the box out of his hands but he’s faster, catching your wrist and pulling you in. 

Something inside of you stirs. 

Being this close to Caleb has never affected you before and yet now, your skin burns where his hand touches. The arm he wraps around your waist to steady you leaves your body tingling and when you lock eyes, you wonder what he’s thinking.

“What do you have this for,” he questions, gaze searching yours. His breathing is slow but heavy, as if he’s trying to keep himself from losing control at any moment. 

“Are you trying to have sex with a boy? Meimei, you shouldn’t be having sex. You should be focusing on-“

”I’m not trying to have sex,” you interrupt, embarrassment flooding through you as you look away. You can feel your pulse quickening, thrumming as you try to squirm out of Caleb’s grip. 

“I just- I was just trying it. I don’t know. Don’t ask, ge.” 

Caleb huffs out a laugh but his grip doesn’t loosen. If anything, he pulls you impossibly closer, presses your wrist to his chest so you can’t escape him.

“You were just trying,” he asks, brow cocked as he leans in. His face is inches from yours, breath hot as it fans across your cheek.

Something shifts and suddenly, you understand what your friends were saying when they had mentioned being wet. 

“I just— I was just— I wanted to know how it felt,” you whisper. Your gaze drops down to his lips. They’re dry because Caleb never knows how to bring a tube of chapstick around and yet you still find yourself wanting him to lean in. 

“They said it felt good. I tried it but I couldn’t— it just didn’t feel good, ge.” 

You’re breathless as you finish your last sentence and when you look back into Caleb’s eyes, they’re still dark. For a moment you think he’s angry but his brows don’t furrow like he is angry. Rather, it’s a look you’ve never seen before. One you can’t read. 

“You touched yourself,” he asks, thumb stroking along the inside of your wrist. His head turns, nose brushing along your palm. Your breath hitches as you wait in anticipation, wondering if his lips will accidentally skim along your wrist. 

“Yes,” you breathe out. Small. Obedient. 

A good meimei always listens to her gege. 

“But it didn’t feel good?”

His cheek finds its way into your palm and you can feel the heat of his skin. Your eyes shift back and forth. When did Caleb get flustered? Why was he breathing so heavily? 

“No.” 

His heavy exhale reaches your collarbones, teasing the skin there. 

Heat licks between your legs as you stare at him, waiting. 

What is going on? Where is this going?

”Do you want gege to teach you,” he asks. His face turns just slightly and this time, his lips do brush along your wrist. It makes you whimper and you nod without a second thought. 

There’s no hesitation. 

Not when Caleb’s offering to help you. Not with his body hot and hard against yours. Not when you want him so badly. 

“Alright,” he exhales. “Gege will teach you how to feel good.” 

You don’t know how it happens but before you know it, Caleb’s got you with your back to the headboard and your legs spread. You watch him as he crawls between your legs before his fingers brush at the hem of your shirt. 

“You’re okay with this,” he asks and yet he’s already lifting up before you can even nod. You don’t find yourself protesting though. Instead, you just nod for confirmation. 

Caleb takes the consent to reach out and grope your breasts.

The air between the two of you is stiff and yet the tension breaks the moment his fingers pinch your nipples. 

A yelp passes your lips, eyes fluttering shut as he flicks his fingers along the buds and then the worst part comes. 

“You need to start off slow, meimei,” Caleb whispers. “What were you doing? Did you try to put that dildo in you without prep?” 

You don’t dare look at him but you nod. The fact that he knows you immediately rushed into it is embarrassing enough but to have him touching you all the while?

He clicks his tongue and then pulls again, drags a sweet moan out of your mouth as he continues to tease you. 

“Next time, work your way into it, okay? I wouldn’t want you to hurt yourself.” 

His hands drag down then, finding the waistband of your shorts before dipping underneath. You hear his breath hitch when he feels bare skin and then he pulls as if to confirm his suspicions.

Nothing. 

There is nothing underneath your shorts to cover the way your folds glisten with your wet heat and you’re tempted to shut your legs but Caleb’s already between them, finger dragging down your pussy. 

“You can’t just push things inside of yourself without stretching yourself open, baobei,” he whispers. You squirm under his touch. Even just this feels a hundred times better than what you tried earlier. 

Caleb hasn’t even slid a finger in and you’re already delirious with desire. 

“See how wet you are though? You gotta be just like this. Then you can go inside.” 

His fingers gather up the slick along your folds, spreading the essence around obscenely so until it trails along your inner thighs. And then:

“Like this,” Caleb exhales before he slithers a digit inside, watches your cunt flutter around it. His breath catches in his throat, gaze flickering to meet yours. 

You look beautiful. Strung out, mouth dropped open, face flustered, and eyes glazed over with desire. He has half a mind to kiss you, lean in and delve his tongue into your mouth until you’re moaning into him but he holds back. 

This isn’t about him. This is about you. 

His curious little meimei. His sweet girl who’s so desperate to find pleasure that she’s allowed him to pump his finger inside of her. 

“Gege,” you stutter, breaking him from his train of thought. Caleb’s finger inside of you is odd and yet welcome, your legs parting to show him you’re ready for more. “Can you- please. Need it.” 

Fuck. He almost cums right there. 

Instead, he bites back a grin and places his free hand on your hips, keeps you still with a click of his tongue. 

“Shh, I’ve got you princess. Gege will give you what you need.” 

He intends to make good on his promise too, he thinks as he curls his finger up inside of you. You’re so wet around him, walls clenching his finger as if it’s not enough. 

His thumb slips up your folds, underneath the hood of it to find your clit. With just the slightest brush, your hips jolt into his touch. There it is. Beautiful. Perfect. All for him. 

“Gege.” 

“Gege’s right here baobei,” he coos, pushes another finger in, watches your eyes widen with surprise before you let out another moan. It echoes through the room, buries itself into Caleb’s mind. Sounds he’ll remember the next time he’s got a hand fisted around his cock. 

“See, it feels good right here, doesn’t it?”

His thumb circles your clit, slow and easy, feels it throb underneath his touch. His breath catches in his chest and he urges himself to continue. 

“If you touch here and then push your fingers far into yourself and curl them-“

A strangled breath as he narrates his actions. Another satisfied grin to hide. 

“-it’ll feel really good. Stimulates the inside and outside. Twice the pleasure.” 

He’s so sure you’re barely listening though. How could you be paying attention to anything but the feeling of Caleb’s fingers fucking you open as your own curl into bed sheets? His fingers are so long, you’re convinced you’ll never be able to reach the places inside of you that Caleb has. 

The slick sounds of Caleb’s fingers spreading you open fill the room, matching the volume of your moans every time Caleb fucks in. You can feel the slick trailing down your thighs and every time your hips even remotely drop back onto the bed the wet spot beneath it meets your ass. 

“Gege,” you cry again and it’s the only thing you find yourself really able to say in all of this. How else should you call for your brother who touches you so sweetly? What more can you say to let him know you're beyond satisfied with the things he teaches you? 

“I know, baobei, I know,” he whispers, fingers flicking faster, harder, deeper. He stretches open your core eagerly, as if his life depends on it. 

“Cum for me. You can let it all out. Gege will take care of you,” he drawls. He can feel it, your orgasm peaking. You tighten around his fingers every time they press deep inside. Your hips rise to meet his movements. Your moans escape from your lips louder.

You cum with an arch of your hips, legs spread like an offering and he coaxes you through it. Unable to stop himself, he mouths along the flesh of your thigh, catches just the slightest hint of your honeyed essence in his mouth. 

His tongue laps at your slick, hopes you don’t notice how he’s taking when he’s supposed to be giving. Maybe you’ll think this is part of the pleasure. Maybe you’ll begin to crave more than just his fingers inside of you.

“There we go. Just like that. Gege promised he’d teach you how to feel good didn’t he,” Caleb murmurs into your thigh. His fingers eventually slow before he finds himself crawling over your deflated form, pressing a kiss to your forehead. 

“Sleep,” he whispers, “I’ll take care of you.” 

You hadn’t even realized you were tired but with your body sinking into the bed sheets, and Caleb’s body warm over yours, you find yourself lulled to sleep.

[cherryapplefish]

Fate's A Funny Thing

Caleb x You

Red strings of fate are supposed to be myths.

At least that's what you've always believed.

Nobody's ever actually seen the string, linking one ring finger to another. On the digit that's said to hold the vein of love. (Which is silly because all fingers have veins that lead to the heart.) And yet one day, you wake up with a string tied to your finger.

You stare at the thin string, follow its lines as it curls into an eternal knot around the crease of your finger. You blink the sleep away before you sit up, confusion etched into your face as your brows furrow together.

Was this some kind of sick prank?

Who'd snuck into your apartment in the middle of the night to do something so creepy and cringey?

You're snapped out of your thoughts when you hear a knock on your bedroom door. Funnily enough, where the trail of string leads to. For a moment, you wonder who it is but then comes his voice.

"Pipsqueak, you gonna get up? Breakfast is ready," Caleb's voice calls softly and huh. Maybe he'd done something silly and snuck in in the early hours of the morning to tie this string onto you. He'd apparently already snuck in to make you breakfast.

You jump out of bed only because the smell of food is much more interesting than wondering why the string of fate has appeared. Especially this early in the morning.

And you don't think much of it. Why would you? Except when you pull open the door to your room and find Caleb standing on the other side, you don't expect to find the little string on your hand connected to his.

[cherryapplefish]

The Touch of a Father

a/n: this is a part of the applecrow father-brother au ive had in mind. ive been wanting to finally finish this so enjoy!

relationship/s: (background caleb x reader) x sylus

tags: piss, non-con fingering, sylus forces reader to call him ‘daddy’ lol, attempted escape

1.4k words

Caleb’s anger is quiet and it scares more than you realized.

His stare as Sylus carried you into his home-your home-as they insisted, was dark and intense. As angry as he appeared to be, he stayed silent when they settled you back into your bedroom and locked the door. You heard their voices, stern and frustrated, so monotone you couldn’t figure who was who. It’s when you heard the word “punishment” that your heart started beating fast again. So unlike the moment Sylus had found you.

When Sylus retrieved you from the streets, you’d been too shocked to struggle at first. You had packed a measly backpack, threw in whatever you could think of the moment, and left with the address of a friend in mind to escape to. You just couldn’t handle it anymore, the way your already small world had suffocated you with Sylus and Caleb’s overbearing presence. Their grip on you was nearing to inescapable, so you had to leave, as much as it hurt you to leave Caleb as it would hurt him when he finds out.

The sun was still up when you climbed over your window and escaped. Sylus shouldn’t have known you slipped away but he did. His car pulled beside you before you even made it out of your block. All he needed to do was grip your wrist then you were all but helpless.

The voices had stopped, you hear footsteps fading but another approaching your door. You expected Caleb, his disappointed gaze and his usual scolding at the tip of his tongue. But it was Sylus that you see when the door opened, a glass of water in hand and a book in the other. His gaze shifted to the floor you were curled up in, then closed the door behind him.

He had always been quiet, but now he’s being too quiet. His anger is barely visible but you can still sense it. The tick in his jaw and his furrowed brows betray his suppressed fury. He crouches in front of you as if approaching a scared animal, and in a way he was.

He holds the glass to your face, “drink.” He commands. His voice didn’t allow any room for questions, so you reluctantly follow his order.

You’re halfway into the glass when he tips the glass upwards. “Finish it.” You don’t want to, but his curt words are scaring you. When you finish the glass he holds out his hand for him to take it.

His palm is firm but soft when he pats your head.“Stay, kitten.” He says as he stands and walks to the lone chair in your room to read his book. He feigns indifference, but his body faces you and the doorway. Alert as a guard dog despite not looking at you.

Being ordered to stay on the floor like a wild kitten who didn’t know better for herself was dehumanizing. It made you feel small, even worse that you’ve gone against their imposed rules. Caleb had always been patient, always on your defense whenever Sylus thought you needed to be “disciplined.”

By betraying him, he’s no longer your last line of defense against Sylus.

You don’t know how long you sit there. Sylus reads in the same room as you, as if you were ready to leave the house again if he so much as leave you alone for a second. He might be right.

Sylus periodically leaves the room for only a few minutes for another glass of water. Again, and again, he pushes the rim of the glass to your lips when he beckoned you to sit in his lap, already tired of the distance between you both.

Your question is at the tip of your tongue, but you can’t bring yourself to even let out a squeak when Sylus is just so angry. He pours another drink into the glass, but the sight of it makes you squirm.

Another? You think despairingly as he raises the glass to your lips. You open your mouth to protest, but he gives you no chance to even question his actions as he urges you to drink once again.

He sets the glass down and continues reading. His hand that rests on your hip now draws circles on your thigh. You feel the familiar pressure on your lower stomach. You realize with a sinking feeling that you needed to ask Sylus for permission. For something quite embarrassing.

You needed to go to the bathroom.

The clock on the wall lets you know it’s been almost two hours since he’s had you sit with him while he reads. Two hours of not moving, with a couple full glasses of water now begging to be released from your bladder. You needed to go now.

It takes every bit of your desperation to swallow your pride and to address Sylus nicely. “Sylus?”

He flips a page in his book. “Princess, that’s not what I asked you to call me.”

Damn him and his delusions. “Daddy?”

“Yes dear?” Your nails are embedded in your palms.

“Can i go to the bathroom?”

“In a minute.” The book he was reading is set to the side in favor of turning his full attention on you. His hands work to reposition you further into his lap, your back to his chest, minimal space between you two. Just the way he likes it.

His voice slinks from behind you as you feel the button of your jeans open. “You were so eager to leave your brother behind,” he tugs down the zipper. “After all he’s done for you. Did you believe I couldn’t take care of you like he can?”

“Wait-“ your hands are weak against his grip but you still fight it when he pulls down your pants. “Sylus, please. I’m sorry-“

“Tsk. Still can’t remember how to address me properly, but not to worry-“ you feel a slight chill in the legs as the jeans are dropped to the floor. “Your dear brother gave me full permission to discipline you as I see fit.”

You look at him in alarm. Caleb, your brother? Hands off when it comes to you? You can barely believe it, but remembering how angry he had been when you tried to leave him , it seems as though he’s taking it pretty hard.

There is a tightness in your chest as his fingers slip beneath your panties. Sylus’ breath is warm against your neck, but his fingers are a tad colder as he prods at your core. Just when you thought it couldn’t get any worse, his other hand slips under your shirt and presses on your lower stomach.

Your knees tremble at his touch, and the feeling of his tongue on your neck accompanied by the ministrations of his fingers has you gripping his arms, pleading for mercy. You’re not enjoying this-you’re not enjoying this, but you’re painfully aware of your body’s growing arousal.

“Sy-daddy please. I’m sorry I’m sorry! I won’t try to leave again, so please! Don’t make me-“ his palm presses even harder.

“Shush, let me take care of you.” You feel it, the rising peak to your release- but you don’t know which. All you know is your body’s begging to reach your end and to just let go. “You’ll feel so much better if you just give into it. I’ll clean you up after, so don’t be scared to make a mess sweetie.”

“I-“ at a flick of his wrist, it arches your back further into him and his hard bulge you barely even notice. Each movement of his hands draws tears that blurs your vision, which he licks away like a gesture of comfort. When a finger breaches your entrance, you jolt. His palm rubbing against your clit and him making you full with his thick finger rattles your delicate bladder.

You try to keep it in, to hold it in longer. But soon enough, you came undone at his touch. An awful warmth leaked through his fingers, your underwear, then eventually making a mess on the floor. You’re barely aware of him nuzzling his face further in your neck, or his cooing as you sob and mentally retreat into yourself.

“You did so well for me. So good, so good for daddy. I told you I’ll handle it, hm?” If it wasn’t already humiliating enough, he adjusts your underwear back in place. You think he’ll carry you into the bathroom so you can forget this ever happened but he straightens you up and leads you to the door with a hand on your back.

“Your brother wants to speak with you soon, so try to behave and show him how sorry you are.”

[cherryapplefish]

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ you almost sound convincing, when you assure caleb that you’re happy for his new relationship

„I’m so happy for you“, you whisper in his ear when he wins the basketball game. he hugs you so tightly you almost wish he never lets you go, inhaling his musky scent. 

„I’m so happy for you!“, you scream when he gets accepted at the aerospace academy, finally making his lifelong wish come true. 

„I’m happy for you“, you say to him, when you visit him at the academy, him introducing you to all his new friends. your voice doesn’t sound convincing this time. it almost breaks, when you see the girl who is taking his hand, pulling him on the dancefloor.

„I’m so happy for you“, you grind out when he tells you the two of them are together now. 

„are you really?“, he says, a smile tugging on his lips when he gets closer to you, cornering you. 

„I only want happiness for you, caleb“, you reply. 

his smile grows into a grin. „that almost sounded convincing, pipsqueak. try it again, this time with more enthusiasm.“ 

you can’t hold it in anymore, shoving him. but his chest is hard as a rock, not moving one inch. „what do you want from me?“, you blurt out. 

he gets even more close to you. you can feel the heat of his body, when he moves his mouth to your ear. „honesty, little apple.“ his lips tickle your earlobe. „I want you to tell me the truth.“

you clench your teeth. „it is the truth. I want happiness for you. even …“ you gulp. „even if it’s not with me.“ 

caleb lets out a shaky breath. „finally.“ 

before you know what’s happening, he takes your face in both his hands. then he lowers his mouth on yours. he kisses you soft, deliberate, and for a few seconds, you don’t react. then it really sinks in – caleb is kissing you. again, you shove him.

„what’s with that girl?“, you ask.

he shakes his head. „she’s just a friend, helping me out. I told her all about you.“

you blink. then you cross your arms in front of your chest. „you did this on purpose?“

he just shrugs. „I thought it would accelerate the process of the inevitable“, he says, his thumbs caressing your cheeks, then the lines of your jaw. „you and me. together at last. if you want this too.“ 

your anger evaporates with every single touch of his skillful fingers. „yes, I want this. I want you“, you breathe. 

now it is you who’s kissing him, a little more assured, even though his methods make you angry. but on the forefront stands this: caleb wants you. and you wanted him as long as you can remember. 

„are you happy?“, he whispers between two kisses.

your smile comes from deep within as you nod. „I’m so happy for us.“ 

your mouth doesn’t leave his for a long time. 

[cherryapplefish]

「Where the Wind Left Us」 Caleb

       ↳ He died in the war- or so you thought. Years later, he returns with no memory of you, and you're forced to face the man who once loved you like forever... now looking at you like a stranger.

Caleb had once been a fighter pilot, sharp, brave and deeply in love. Before the war, before duty stole him away, he was yours. Have a love rooted in hope, built during quiet moments in the chaos of wartime. But when the war escalated and he was called to serve, to protect the country and to protect you.

You had written to him. Countless letters. Words filled with devotion, with trembling wishes for his safety. For his return. With each letter, you tried to remind him that he was still loved, that you are still here, waiting for him. But the war ended, and he never came back.

You stood among crowds of reuniting lovers, heart clenched, eyes scanning every face that was not his. In your fist, a handkerchief crumpled tight with tears. They handed you a uniform. A final gesture. They said his plane had been shot down over enemy lines. No body. No wreckage. No closure. He had been declared missing in action and then, eventually, dead.

Years had passed. Then decade. Still, you remained alone. Something inside you had died the same day he did. If not in body, then in memory. You could not bring yourself to move on. His absence was a shadow you had lived beside. And then-

"Ouch!" A small voice snapped you out of the daze. You looked down to find a young boy who had fallen in front of you. Without thinking twice about it, you knelt beside him, concern pushing through the numbness. "Are you alright, sweetheart?" You asked. But when the your eyes met, something inside you cracked. A ghost of the past but this time, his eyes resemble somebody else. Someone long lost. You couldn’t breathe. You couldn’t look away. It was like seeing a ghost, not of the boy, but of someone you once knew better than yourself.

Later, you found yourself seated in a familiar little ice cream parlor. One that hadn't changed much over the years. Once, it had been the setting of the happiest date of your life. And now, across from you, sat the boy with his apple-flavored treat. "Are you sure you're okay?" You asked. "Yes! I'm a big boy now. Not even a scratch can make me cry!" He beamed. And that smile, that smile nearly identical to another's from so long ago. "Say, kid" You asked gently "Where are your parents?" "Oh!" He paused mid lick, then looked up like he'd just remembered. "Probably looking for me! We just got back here because this is my father's hometown!"

It was almost cruel, how easily your heart twisted. Once upon a time, there was a love story. A foreign soldier lost in a strange land, memory fractured by war. And a medical nurse who found him, pieced him together. They met. They bonded. They fell in love, not knowing that time and fate had other plans. And now, you are left with nothing but the ruin of a fairytale that was never meant to last.

"Oh, it's Dad." the child mumbled as he looked out the window. And there he was. Caleb. Alive. Whole. Smiling that same hesitant smile. Though now touched with worry as he spotted his son. So you look away and turn around. "I need to go" You whispered almost to yourself. In the end the child pout, the same way he once does causing you to chuckle despite the pain, despite the heartbreak. Despite the realization that the two of you were in fact, never meant to be together. But it was alright. 

"I'm afraid I'm quite running late for my errands young man." You smile fondly at him. "But-" He was cut off by the sound of his father calling him from the distance. "Well then, goodbye." You stand up, bidding your goodbye to the young child. "Wai- wait! What's your name?" You thought for a moment and look back slightly at the child. "No one, just a ghost from the past." You whispered along the wind. You never look back. And by the time Caleb reach the child's side, you were already long gone. 

♡

It's been a while since you've clean up your lawn. Its been a while since you have done such a thing ever since the revelation that your former lover. The one you thought was dead for the past few years was in fact, alive and breathing. And has a son, a family. It took you a while to pick yourself up from pieces. For years, you mourned for him, loved him in silence. Lit up a candle for a man declared dead with no body to bury. But then, like a cruel twist of fate, he appeared. Alive. Well. And with a child.

You tried to tell yourself it didn’t matter. That too much time had passed. That you both moved on even though you never truly had. And that he was someone else's now. That he had a family, and your part in his story was long over. But it wasn’t grief you were feeling now, it was betrayal. Not because he had lived. Not because he ha didn't tell you. Because he had come back into your world as if you were a stranger, not the person who once waited for his letters like they were lifelines. Not the person who loved him enough to mourn him twice.

You clenched your jaw, yanking a weed from the dirt with more force than necessary. Why were you so broken over this? He hadn't done anything wrong. No one had. And yet, deep in your chest, a sharp ache remained. You would’ve preferred he stayed dead. It was easier than this.

"Hello!" You pause, something that you tried not to show too much as you turn to face a familiar child. "Hello sweetheart." You tried to smile, really. The child did nothing wrong. Hell, no one did anything wrong. At the same time it really hurts you to be around this child as time went on. "Are you lost sweetheart?" You ask, setting aside your things to talk to the child properly. You haven't seen the boy in days, and now that he was standing right in front of you, it was clear that what happened wasn't a dream. It was true, he was back and you don't know it that was for better or for worse. "Are you okay?" The boy asked catching you off guard. "Of.. course. I'm okay sweetheart. But! but more importantly, Why are you alone again? where are your parents?"

Starting to get pissed off. The Caleb you knew was responsible, a man with taste. You knew who ever we has with right now would be a perfect good match for. But come on! Who lives their child alone?! This isn't the first time this happened, this child also happened to be away from this parents the first time you've seen him. Why are people so irresponsible with their children? Doesn't he love children? He never told you that of course, but you knew he always wanted one and you knew he would be a good dad. So where in the world is he right now-

"My paren-" "Pipsqueak! you little-!!" He pause, you watch him. You watch him watch you, your eyes slowly meeting half way. You did not want to see him. You were doing everything in your power not to see him.

These days, you moved differently. You rarely left your house and even if you did you took side streets, crossed early at lights, pretended not to notice the ache in your chest when someone said his name like it wasn’t a ghost curled inside it. He was back in town, for good, you knew that. But you aren't expecting to see him again, not now. Probably not ever. 

The way he was looking at you. The way it send shiver down your spine. He doesn’t know, you reminded yourself. He doesn’t remember you. He’s not looking at you because he knows you. You told yourself, trying your best to stay calm as he kept looking at you. Why was he even looking at you? He came to pick his son right? Right!

"You" You spoke, sharper than you meant, "Really need to learn how to watch your kid." You did not know where did you get that, words just came out of your mouth before you knew it. Caleb blinked like he wasn’t expecting you to speak first. Or maybe he just wasn’t expecting you. But then he stared at you again, this time, really stared.

The way you tried not to notice how his gaze lingered. The way it clung to your face like it recognized something but couldn’t quite name it. How it made your heart squeeze and your chest ache with things you’d buried long ago. You hate how he still looked at you like that. Like you were something soft in a world gone harsh.

"I- yeah" He replied, finally. "I didn’t know he snuck out again. He’s been doing that a lot lately." "Well, maybe he’s trying to get attention" You snapped, folding your arms. Where did that sassiness came from? "You know, since you're busy with your wife... or whatever." You tried to sound nonchalant, you really do.

But you saw it the moment the words left your mouth, the way something flickered in his expression. Confusion. A little hurt. "My what?" "Your wife.” You repeated, biting down the bitterness. "Look Mister, you've got a family. I get it. But maybe someone should be making sure your son doesn't keep ending up on strangers' lawns."

The way he looked at you like you just accused him of murder. The he said carefully "I don’t have a wife." You thought your ears were playing tricks at you. "I'm not married” He added, frowning. "It’s just me and this little guy over here." You opened your mouth then closed it before opening it again. "I saw you, at the ice cream parlor. You look like family." "We're not" He said simply, eyes softening. "Not like that." You look away. This isn't how you wanted this to go. You weren't even supposed to be talking to him.

Just when you felt like running away. The boy tugged at your sleeve. "Can we still go to the park?" The park? when did the two of you started talking about a park? You glanced down at the boy, then back at Caleb who was still staring at you. Like you were something fragile and familiar. Someone strange all at once. You cleared your throat. "Look, I don’t know what this is. But this little guy right here shouldn’t be wandering off." You smile gently at the boy, gently prying off his hand of your shirt "Next time it might not be someone nice who finds him."

Imagine just when you were about to turn around and walk away for real. "You’re right" Caleb said, voice steady. "You're completely right." What is this guy playing? "So maybe you should help me keep an eye on him. Just for today. Park trip?" 

You hesitated. This man, this stranger who still managed to look at you like you were everything, was asking you to walk beside him again. Even if he didn’t remember. Even if it shattered you. Just then, his son grabbed both your hands and squeezed. "Please? I can hold on both of you this time!" You sighed, you could almost feel a headache forming. "I swear" Caleb spoke quietly. "I’m not trying to make this harder for you." He added. "I just... something about you feels like I’ve known you forever." You didn't answer.

Instead you turn to his son who was looking at you with hopeful eyes. Oh those puppy eyes, who could ever say no to them? "Give me a minute darling, I'll clean this up in a bit." "Oh. Oh! I could help!" You laugh, ignoring the way his stare linger. With your heart pounding, trying not to fall apart as the man who once promised to come back to you followed behind. With no idea he already had.

♡

It began in fragments. A shared walk beneath rusted leaves. A passing smile from across the yard. A quiet lunch in the sun, where the child spoke the most and the two adults sat guarded, orbiting each other in silence.

For you, it was cautious. Your heart, once cracked open by his absence, had been stitched closed over years of grief. And now that he stood right before your eyes, not a memory, but a living echo. With his laugh the same, his presence still magnetic. But his eyes were new. Unknowing. Which honestly made it worse. You didn’t know how to touch a ghost who didn’t remember haunting you.

He was gentler now. Or perhaps he always had been, had you simply forgotten how it felt. He watched you like you were something steady, something quiet. Like he was trying to place you in a dream he couldn’t quite recall. And you tried not to look too long. Not to stare when he leaned back on his hands, when he ran a palm through his hair the way he used to when deep in thought. You tried not to remember how his touch had once been a promise. Now, it was unfamiliar. Unwritten. A beginning that mocked the ending you had survived.

For Caleb, it was instinct.

The pull towards you was natural, like a rhythm he already knew. He could not understand why but it lingered in his chest every time you were near. Like a compass buried deep inside him had found true north. There was something in the way you looked at him when you thought he wasn’t watching. Like you were mourning while he breathed. Like he had hurt you without meaning to. Like he had once been your world, and now you didn’t even know how to stand close without burning.

You were kind, but careful. Present, but slightly too still. He noticed the way you never leaned in too far. The way your hands stayed folded, as though holding yourself together. And yet, somehow, you two kept finding each other. A cup of tea offered without words. A shared glance when the little guy laughed too loudly. The comfortable silence of two people who knew how to sit with something unspoken.

For you, it was terrifying. To feel the old ache inching back slow, quiet and cruel. To fall for him again, when he had no idea you were simply picking up where he had left you broken.

For him, it felt inevitable. Like he was falling toward something he couldn’t name. Something familiar. Something that felt like home. Even if he didn’t know why.

♡

Caleb hadn't meant to visit.

He was just dropping off for his son's hat. Left behind again after your impromptu park trip. But when you opened the door and offered a gentle, "Come in for a minute." He stepped inside, telling himself it was polite. Just polite. And then he saw it.

First, the jacket. Hanging by the coat rack. Old, military-issued, a bit scuffed. Familiar. Too familiar. Then the model planes. Dusty but lovingly displayed on a shelf, and one of them, one specific fighter jet had a scratch on the left wing. And then the mug. Sitting quietly by the window, like a ghost of a morning ritual. Chipped. Faded. Still readable, Return With Honor. He stared at it like it had slapped him.

His chest tightened. His brain did math. You said you lived alone. That you never married. Yet this place didn’t feel like yours alone. It was layered with someone else's presence. And Caleb, who, despite his calm exterior, had an ego thoroughly capable of jealousy, was not immune.

"Nice place." He said, eyes still glued to the jacket. Boyfriend? No. You said you aren't seeing anyone. But maybe someone from the past? Someone important, judging by the shrine level energy in the room. "Thanks." You replied, walking toward the kitchen. "It's quiet. Suits me." "Yeah. You into aviation or something?" By his question, you paused. "A little." He nodded like that explained everything, but the knot in his chest was winding tighter.

"Those models." He said, referring to the planes. "They're vintage... Collectibles?" "They were someone else's." He felt an ache. "Someone close?" He asked and your silence was enough. Caleb cleared his throat. "Boyfriend?" "What's it to you?" You almost glare at him but ended with a sigh. "Nothing." He said too quickly. "Just curious. Not judging or anything. Totally healthy to you know... keep stuff from a boyfriend." He almost cringe at his own words. Nonetheless he tried to play it cool. "Even years later. It's fine."

"Wasn't a boyfriend." "Oh." He looked relieved then paused. "Husband?" You didn't respond. His jaw clenched. "Okay. Cool. So just- was it serious?" It was entertaining, really. To see him acting like this. Still, "Very." He exhaled slowly, pretending it didn't bother him. Pretending the idea of some air force Romeo haunting your house via jacket and coffee mug didn't sit like a boulder in his gut. "Is he… still around?" He asked.

You turned slightly, enough for him to see the flicker of something in your eyes. Not anger. Not sadness. Something older. But then you blink and it disappears. "No." You said simply, too nonchalant. "He died. Years ago. During the war." Caleb blinked. "Oh. Sorry. I didn’t mean to-"  "It's alright."

Caleb, in all his complicated grief and confused feelings, nodded gently and then exhaled the kind of breath no normal person should ever exhale after hearing about someone's dead lover.

Relief. An actual, horrible, shameful relief. "So... you never moved on?" Why does he even asked this questions? "I tried." You said, sighing. Looking back, you never truly get over him. Even before this, you carry him with you. "Didn’t stick."

He looked away, heart weirdly heavy. And relieved. Which was so wrong. He barely even knew you. "I'm not saying I was jealous." He muttered under his breath. Clearly wasn't very jealous. "But I just think it's a little unfair that a dead guy still has better closet space than me." You pause, looked at him and then choked on a laugh. "Excuse me?"

"Nothing. I mean. I didn’t say that." He tried to recover but found himself already walking toward the jacket. "That tear in the shoulder? Looks like something from field duty. Enemy fire?" There was a moment of silence before your voice was heard. "Crash." Ah. Damn. He looked back at you. "Did they recover him?" You shook your head, mind replaying the day you received his uniform. "No. The plane was downed over enemy territory. No body. Just..." 

Caleb swallowed, then turned back to the jacket. His fingers brushed the edge of the inner collar. And there, faint but stitched in, was a name. Caleb. His own name.

He blinked. Huh. "That's weird." He whispered to himself. "What is?" "Nothing." He let go quickly, stepping back like the jacket burned him. "Just thought it looked familiar." "You probably knew someone like him." You said, looking at the jacket. "You were a pilot too, weren't you?" He nodded slowly.

The silence that followed was thick with something he couldn’t name. Finally, you turned to him, brows raising. "You okay?" "Yeah. I'm fine. Just..." He looked back at the shelf of planes. "Trying to figure out if I'm feeling haunted or just wildly insecure." You gave him a long look. "Don't worry. You're not the first man to get jealous of a ghost."

♡

It didn’t hit all at once.

Just a flicker. Later that evening, after he returned home and set down his keys. Caleb sat in silence for a long while. Hands resting on his knees, his mind somewhere far behind him. His son asleep upstairs. The house was quiet. But his heart wasn’t.

He couldn't stop thinking about the jacket. The way it had felt under his fingers. The fraying of the collar. The weight of it. Familiar, like a favorite song he hadn't heard in years. And then… the name.

Caleb

His name. Same spelling. Same placement he would have asked for, had it ever been his. And that particular kind of patch stitching, he knew it. Not in theory, not from others but he remembered doing it. Sewing that rip in the field. Threading it clumsily, cursing the cold, using his teeth to pull the knot tight.

The memory was sharp. Real. Immediate. He jolted. For a split second, the sound of wind filled his ears. Rotors. Heat. A hands pressing against his chest. A medic’s voice shouting. The taste of blood. The voice- the voice. Laughing. Crying. Then it was gone. He stared at the floor, breath unsteady, as something ancient and half buried inside him cracked open. He didn’t know the name. Not yet. 

But suddenly, he knew the jacket. He had loved someone once. And he had left them behind.

♡

It had been a while since Caleb last visited. Life had a way of stepping in, work, obligations and the silent ache between two people who used to know each other like breath and now barely touched the surface. He hadn't come by in days, and though you told yourself it was a relief, the echo of absence sat heavily in the corners of the house.

Still, his little boy came. He had a way of showing up with grass in his hair and stories far too big for his age. That afternoon, he sat cross-legged in your living room, babbling about paper airplanes and how he could totally build one that flew to the moon if he wanted. And you listened, smiling through the heaviness.

Then, in the soft lull of conversation, you asked a question that had lingered for too long. "Your dad... what's he like?" When you asked that, the boy shrugged like it wasn't complicated. "He’s kind. And quiet sometimes." He giggle. "He forgets things. But he always remembers the important stuff."

You hesitated before asking, you don't want to get hurt. "Was it always just the two of you?" The boy tilted his head. "No. My real parents died. In the war. Dad, Caleb, was their friend. He says he owes them everything."

The world tilted just slightly beneath you. He wasn’t his son. Not by blood. Caleb had taken the boy in. Raised him. Loved him. Not because he had to. But because it was the right thing to do.

You watch the little boy rummaged through his small backpack and pulled out something you hadn’t seen in years, a small box, worn at the edges. "He gave me this." He said, opening it like it was no big deal. Inside sat a ring. Their ring. The one pair Caleb had with him the night before he left for the war. The one you thought had been lost with him forever. You breath caught.

"He said it was for someone important." He added gently. "That he didn't remember who, not really. But he knew it was meant for someone. That he'd given it to them before everything." The air went silent with something unspoken. "He said that's why we came back here." The child said simply. "Because father- my first dad, told him he had left something important in this town. Someone.”

The ring sat there between them, heavy with memory.

You did not reach for it. Not yet. Because hope was a dangerous thing. And love, especially a love that once had died, was terrifying when it tried to live again. You turned your head, blinking quickly, steadying yourself. You could feel it, fate pulling at the thread. Winding them back toward something unfinished. Caleb didn’t remember you. But somehow, his heart still did.

And yours? Still afraid. But still beating for the same man.

♡

It came to him like a storm. No warning. No slow unraveling. Just a breath, then the world tilted. 

He was standing by your the porch, hand raised to knock on your door when his eyes flicked to the side window. There, through the curtain, he saw you. Front facing him and staring at the ring.

That ring.

The one he had carried through fire and blood and years of unknowing. The one he couldn't part with even when his memories scattered like ash in the wind. The ring he had told himself it was a symbol of something lost, of someone important.

And in that moment, it wasn't just important. It was you.

He staggered back a step, unsteady.

The noise of bombs, of roaring engines, your voice flooded in. Your hands on his uniform, trembling the day before he left. The taste of your kiss. The promise he made with that ring pressed between your and his palms. The letters. The laughter. The ache of missing you so badly that it bled into his bones.

The crash. The fire. Your name screaming on his throat. Your face, framed in smoke, reaching for him as everything fell apart. He remembered it all.

The weight of your head on his chest after long shifts at the field. The curve of your smile when you handed him that ridiculous mug. The way you looked up at him like he was something worth returning for.

He remembered loving you. And the unbearable grief in your eyes every time you met now soft and guarded. Like you were terrified to reach for what had already died once.

His breath came out broken. You didn’t know he remembered. Not yet. But standing there, staring at the one who had waited for a ghost, who still wore that love like an old scar, Caleb realized something. He did not just fallen in love with you again. He never stopped. And now, he finally remembered why.

♡

You noticed it first in his silence.

Not the awkward kind, it was the silence of someone searching for words. The kind that felt like knowing. Like he was seeing you for the first time. Or maybe remembering how he used to.

The way he looked at you had changed. Less like curiosity. More like memory.

He didn't say anything when you offered him tea in the same chipped mug, the one with the faded letters he'd once picked out himself. He just smiled. A Small, soft and took it with both hands, like it meant something. And it did.

You could feel it shifting from within, the weight of unspoken things settling into the space like dust. You did not ask if he remembered. You didn’t dare. Because what if he didn’t? Or worse, what if he did and chose to forget again? You were terrified of loving him twice only to lose him all over again.

He sat across from you, watching you with the same steady calm that used to unravel you within seconds. Like you were a place he had once called home. And now, was again. And still, you held back. Because time had turned your love into something cautious. Because you had built your life around the absence of him, and now, with his presence sitting in your kitchen again, it felt like you were grieving in reverse.

He reached into his pocket, pulled out the ring box, not dramatic, not rehearsed, just... instinct. He held it between them without opening it. And you stared. Your heart cracked. "Why are you carrying that?" You asked, voice barely above whisper. He did not answer at first. Instead, he looked at you like someone who had finally, finally found what he had spent years trying to remember. Then he quietly said. "Because I remember who it belonged to now."

You breath hitched. You did not cry. You wanted to but there were no tears left. Just silence, fear, and the tender ache of almost believing him. "You don't have to say anything." You finally spoke. "You don't owe me that." You added.  "I do." He replied. Quiet and steady. "I left you once." There was a pause. "Not because I wanted to, but because the world forced me to." He looked at you. "I won't leave you again."

And you looked away, blinking rapidly. "But what if you forget again?" Fear. "What if I lose you twice?" You don't know if you would be able to handle that again. He exhaled. A breath full of pain and love and all the words he never got to say the first time. "Then I'll come back again." He said, eyes looking for yours. "And again. And again. Because it’s you. It’s always been you. Even without my memories, I found you." You finally looked at him. And in his eyes, you saw him.

Your Caleb.

Not just the man he used to be. Not just the man war tried to erase but the one who had always, in every version of himself, loved you. And in that moment, you don't need the ring. You don't need the memories. You don't need the promises made in uniforms or letters. You just needed this The quiet truth between them. The forgiveness in your heart. And the love that had never really left.

You did not kiss. Not yet. There was no sweeping declaration. No grand reuniting. Just the ring resting between you two. Two hands meeting across the table. And a slow, steady heartbeat that finally, finally felt like home.

[ⓒdark-night-hero] 2025°

Letter Never Sent

My dearest love,

If this letter reaches you, then I’ve made it back, whole, in one piece, and still yours. And if I haven’t… then let this be something that stayed behind, even when I couldn’t.

There’s something I wanted to ask before I left, but the moment kept slipping away. I was too busy memorizing your smile.

So here it is, written plainly and tucked into these folds of paper like a promise:

Will you marry me?

I don’t ask for forever. Just ust for the chance to return to you. I’ll chase every sky, every mile, every storm, if it means finding my way back.

No matter where the wind takes me… I know where it will leave me.

With you.

Always,

Caleb 

[cherryapplefish]

It’s summer when he gets down on one knee.

Summer when eyes like the sunrise you watched together this morning look up at you with hope and love as if he shouldn’t already know the answer.

Summer when your throat closes up, tears brimming in your eyes, and whether it’s the heat of the sun or the blood rushing to your cheeks, your face burns.

And it’s always been summer. Always been summer when you’ve made your most cherished memories.

Melted popsicles on small hands. Sweat running down the back of your neck. Caleb by your side.

It’s always been summer when he took you by the hand and dragged you out to watch fireworks. It’s always been summer when you sat under the stars while he babbled about the different constellations and going beyond the deep space tunnel. It’s always been summer when you looked up at him and realized that you want him by your side for the rest of your life, whatever that means.

It’s summer when Caleb gets down on one knee, a velvet box holding a silver ring in one hand, and asks:

“Will you marry me?”

[cherryapplefish]

[Translated Comic] Time of the Month

Original artist: 一口一个团几

Source ll Permission

❀ Please do not repost ❀

[cherryapplefish]

──── SUMMER DAYDREAM

╰ 𝑪𝒂𝒍𝒆𝒃 LOVE AND DEEPSPACE: NO-RETURN NIGHT

note: I thought the countdown was neat! 🥹

[cherryapplefish]

Waking up with Caleb’s fingers down the front of your underwear is a common occurrence.

Your back to his front, body turned ever so slightly towards him so he has better access. One of your legs thrown over his hip, spreading you wider so his hand can move freely below the cotton of your cute panties.

His nose nuzzles your cheek, your jaw, your neck. His lips hot and soft against your burning skin. Large, calloused hands are playing with your cunt. Aiming to bring you pleasure but also memorizing the feeling.

“C…Caleb…” the blankets are still draped over your bodies, masking the heady scent of your arousal just beneath. Caleb’s mouth waters as the idea of dipping his head under and being enveloped by it while he eats you out.

“Hush now, just relax.” His fingers slip between your slit, bumping your clit just to slip past the fluttering muscles of your entrance. “Fuck you’re soaked…” he drives the point home by wiggling his middle and ring finger, eliciting a slick squelching noise from below the covers.

“Playing with this pretty pussy gets you so wet, cute.” And he’s drawing back entirely, holding his hand out where you can both see. They’re soaked, your arousal clear and sticky as he spreads his fingers apart to show you just how much there is. “Look at that, pretty girl. You’re so turned on.”

You’re whimpering, a weak cry of his name as your cunt throbs. His hand is slipping back under the covers, finding your slick folds and continuing his downward. “Want me to finger fuck you? Make you cum all over my hand?”

You can barely answer him, hips squirming as he plunges two fingers back into your tight cunt.

“I’ll take that as a yes.” And he’s moving them, a mix of rubbing and thrusting and fuck his palm grazes your swollen clit every movement and you’re seeing stars.

Coming before you can even process it, or warn him for that matter. But Caleb feels it, feels you soak his fingers, his palm, and he’s moaning with you.

Birthday Specials for the birthday boy! I’m going to try to post something for Caleb every day until his birthday! Hope you enjoy!

[cherryapplefish]

cowboy!caleb who teaches a cute city girl like you how to ride a horse.. when you try to get on and forget you're wearing a skirt, he takes off his hat and covers you in order to make sure your dignity isn't compromised.

you're nervous, and his mare, ambrosia (rosie), senses it and starts getting agitated — so he hops on behind you to calm the two of you down. he wraps his hands around yours, holding the reins and softly speaks, "whoa girl, you're scaring the lovely lady on your back."

somehow, the firm hold he has on your hands and the warmth of his chest against your back is grounding, and you're confident trying to give the mare a command again. "jog?" and the mare starts trotting suddenly — causing your back to collide with caleb's chest. you're quick to apologize, but you're met with a chuckle and a sultry whisper of "all good, doll. i think rosie likes ya already," against the shell of your ear.

you desperately need to thank your mom for pressuring you into joining her on her countryside trip.

[cherryapplefish]

bouncing on it while he yaps about airplanes

caleb’s a fucking mess under you, sprawled on his creaking bed, your slick pussy swallowing his cock as you bounce hard, each slam making his eyes roll back. he’s trying to talk about airplanes, clinging to some shred of control, but his moans and filthy thoughts keep spilling out, his hands groping every inch of your body like a desperate perv.

“the 747’s—fuck, so fucking tight—got a, ngh, thrust-to-weight ratio—” he chokes, a guttural moan cutting him off as you grind down, your wet cunt clenching his throbbing cock. his eyes are wild, darting from your bouncing tits to your sweat-slicked thighs, drinking in how your body jiggles, pussy lips stretched around him. his hands are everywhere—one gripping your hip, fingers sinking in the soft skin, the other squeezing your ass cheek so hard it’ll bruise, pulling you down to take his cock deeper. “shit, you’re milking me,” he groans, voice raw.

he tries again, panting. “wingspan’s like—oh god, fuck—200 feet or—” another moan rips through, his hips jerking up, cock slamming into you, hitting so deep you gasp. he’s staring at your dripping pussy, the way it sucks him in, slick coating his base, and he’s losing it. “wanna fill you up so bad,” he blurts, not even thinking, his hand sliding to your lower stomach, pressing where he can feel his cock bulge. “fuck, look at you, taking it like a champ.”

his words are sloppy, half airplane facts, half depravity. “jet engines—shit, so wet—push 60,000 pounds, but your pussy’s—” he cuts off, whining as you roll your hips, grinding your clit against him, making his cock twitch. his other hand roams, grabbing your thigh, then your waist, fingers brushing the slick mess where you’re joined. “gonna cum so hard in you,” he mumbles, eyes locked on your bouncing form, obsessed with how your ass slaps his thighs, how your pussy drips down his balls.

“don’t even know—fuck, fuck—cruising altitude’s nothing compared to—” he’s babbling, moaning louder, thrusting up sloppily to meet your bounces. his hands grip harder, one sliding to spread your ass, staring at your tight hole in the opposite mirror as he imagines fucking it next. “you feel so good!” he rasps, voice breaking, too gone to care how pathetic he sounds. he’s humping up, cock pulsing, hands groping frantically, lost in your body and his own filthy, incoherent thoughts.

a/n: you can tell I had to do research for this one☝🏼🤓

[cherryapplefish]

Imagine handing divorce papers to your arranged marriage husband Zayne because the past 3 years of this marriage have been nothing but a farce and you're tired of chasing scraps of affection from a husband who's almost never home.

You leave the documents (signed from your end) in his office at Akso and skip on your way home, treat yourself to a luxury dinner, self care, a good soak in the bath all while humming under your breath. You go to bed, relieved that you'll be a free woman by the end of the week.

Except Zayne shows up in the middle of night still in his hospital scrubs kneeling by your bed (the first time he's entered your bedroom in a long while)

He clutches your hands in a death grip, tears in his eyes, begging you, "please don't leave me."