it goes back to just about three days ago. the first time you ever really interacted with little dear santa happened to be helping him fix a broken piece of tech he found. you’d spent 20 minutes showing him how to solder a tiny connection. just as tamsy came in, leaning against the doorframe to watch, the boy’s project sparked to life. all three sets of eyes widened as the little boy rolled up his baggy sleeves and reached his palm out for a high five.
it was just a simple act of kindness. a wholesome one. yet it made him imagine just a little too much. how would it feel to see you helping out your own child instead? god, one that looked just like him? maybe while another one of his is cozy in your belly too? it’d be perfect.
it would have plenty of benefits too. the few times he brought it up, you always shot the same excuse over and over: “babe, this is the pit. i’m not raising a baby here.”
well, according to tamsy, it was quite the opposite. he believed it would keep you safer. you’d be occupied indoors with a baby all day. protecting you from the outside would be tamsy’s responsibility.
and that’s how you found yourself here. all glassy-eyed and hands clawing at tamsy’s arms as he’s sloppily drilling into your cunt. his eyes roll back at the feeling of your spongy, warm cunt.
it’s the first time he’s in there raw. luckily it didn’t take much to get in either. you always ask him if he’s wearing a condom—a small precaution. and you did the same today. all he needed to rasp out was a quick “ ‘course, angel.” it’s just a little white lie, you won’t know that though, will you? you’re too wet to notice if he’s actually wearing one anyways. it has your starving pussy stretching either way.
the uneven gasps and winces pulled out from you echoed off the walls. the thought that this could give you a permanent symbol of his love drives him over the edge. you’d be bound to him forever. it’s too much for him. all too much. the way you wince and lock your legs tighter around his waist whenever his tip repeatedly nudges your cervix. fuck, if this keeps going he might just—
“f-fuck, don’t let me pull out” he buries himself to the hilt with one last guttural groan, his load filling you up as he tries to push in more so it won’t leak.
it’s not long before you feel his cum sticking to you. “tam, condom! wh-where’s the condom?” you shake tamsy by the shoulders, concern taking over you.
oh yeah, that’s right, he lied to you. “the condom . . yeah. yeah—i-i think it ripped,” he says sheepishly before pressing a lazy kiss to your forehead. “sorry, angel.”
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yandere!tamsy who kidnaps you far away from everything you’ve ever known. well, it’s not exactly kidnapping, more like moving. you knew sticking close to him was trouble so when things started heating up around his name, you weren’t that surprised. he said it was safer for the two of you to move far. deeper into a sector you don’t know anything about. without telling anyone your whereabouts. he also said it was safer if your name didn’t end up anywhere official. so you stayed home. well, now you’re unemployed!
yandere!tamsy who makes you ditch your old number soon after moving in. it wasn’t exactly sad — quite . . peaceful, actually, living tucked away with your sweet-ish boyfriend. you two fall into a routine oddly quick. he brushes your hair when you’re half asleep, you wash dirt out of his clothes. morning kisses but he’s out of the house by 8:00 am. you clean. scroll on pinterest. bake sometimes. his arrival time is unpredictable. sometimes at 5 with a lazy grin on his face, sometimes with delmon asking for dinner, sometimes even later. and you never quite know which version of him you’ll get today.
yandere!tamsy whose sturdy walls start to feel blurry and see-through sometimes. within those walls you remember your parents. one day you start thinking about them and suddenly you can’t stop. god, they must be worried to death. you wonder if they’re searching their sector. what if they think you’re dead? the pit grows in your mind day by day.
yandere!tamsy catches on quick that something’s wrong. he asks you during dinner. so instead of beating around the bush you tell him. he’s been nothing but good to you, he’ll take this well, you’re sure of it.
“i was thinking about my parents,” you say sheepishly, handing him his food. “do you think they’re worried about me?”
“they’ll be fine . . they’ll manage, love.”
yandere!tamsy replies with a nothing answer. he couldn’t care less about it, you thought. so you drop it. but tamsy doesn’t. actually, he has a plan to fix it. he’s not sure how to get you to stop missing them but he has an idea on how to make them stop worrying.
yandere!tamsy has your knees scraping the rough carpet the next day as he rocks your head back and forth on the handful of hair he had grabbed. all you can feel was his dick repeatedly slamming into your throat. you didn’t even realize when he had pulled his phone out and aimlessly threw it on the couch next to you, getting whatever angle he could. the phone was back in his pocket before his load was fully out.
yandere!tamsy later that night, with you asleep against him, pulls out his phone once again. with a few clicks the video is sent to your mom’s inbox.
well, to his dismay, now they’re even more worried!
ノ[ 𝟏𝟖+ ]ㅤSYN.ㅤgrowing up, it was obvious to everyone you were a third wheel to caleb and mc. always just the annoying little sister. so when you see a crack form in their relationship, you take a chance at trying to take anything you could.
TW.ㅤpseudocest, nonmc!reader, brat taming, like one shot of alcohol, degradation, pussy slaps — wc. 1.7k
brat!reader who grew up alongside caleb and mc, but not exactly with them. you were in the periphery, always trying to include your dolls in their tea parties. but there were only two cups, not three. and there were only two chairs. not three.
brat!reader who thought her gege caleb was just so cool. he was a star in college, a star within his friend group. he shined brightest when mc was with him. you tried being a star too, you tried asking him to walk you home but apparently mc needed more safety. you tried to cheer for him at his games, but he just seemed to hear mc’s cheers better.
brat!reader who wears outfits so skimpy around caleb that he has to act like he doesn’t see her perky nipples through the thin fabric of her top. you’d bend over right in front of him to pick something you “accidentally” dropped, frolicking in your mini skirt. you always managed to dip down even lower when your panties were red — his favorite color.
brat!reader who knew caleb was a farspace colonel quite a while before mc did. did caleb tell you on his own will? no. did you call him and beg want to meet up while he was on duty? yes.
did you tell mc? no. why would you? whatever she didn’t know about him that you did made you feel . . useful. to this day she doesn’t know that you knew before her.
brat!reader who is ecstatic when she gets a call from mc, voice shaky, as she vents about the argument with caleb she just walked out from. something about him offering to build her a house and how she won’t have to see anyone ever again.
well . . all that extra info goes in through one ear and out the other as you’re already sliding on a miniskirt and tossing her a lame excuse, followed by you hanging up on her before even giving her the time to reply.
and just like, you have a reason to dilly-dally your way to his apartment!
the slate door, that mc fortunately hadn’t locked when she left, flings open under your arrival. you’re greeted by caleb’s eyes already faltering at the sight of you — hope dying as he realizes you aren’t who he was waiting for.
“whaaat, not happy to see me?” you slightly shake the bottle of red wine you bought with you, the pair of shot glasses clinking in the plastic bag hung on your pinky. “mc told me what happened. jus’ wanted to see how indirect rejection was treating you.” you croon, voice too sweet for a jab that just made his unmoving glare deeper as he watches you cross the room and step into his kitchen to uncap the wine.
as you walk to the couch, a few feet away from him, he finally says something. “if mc was the one who told you,” he grumbled, shooting you a sideways look. “then why’d you come to me?”
you pour the red liquid evenly into the two shot glasses. “because she’s crying about a cage she doesn’t understand.” just as you were about to push one glass towards him, his upper body pulls back.
“now’s not the best time for a drink.”
your brows furrow, choosing to push past his refusal and nudge the cup closer to him again. “and you’re here pretending you’re not hurt she ran away from it.”
“i don’t want a drink, for fucks’ sake!”
the sudden outrage made you flinch, grip tightening on his glass you were still holding. you exhale, letting go of his cup. “okay, okay.” you take your shot instead, letting the liquid burn a trail down your throat.
“caleb, look . . i know you’d tear apart an entire galaxy or whatever for her. but she looks at you like—” you hesitate, your nose scrunching at the thought. “. . a brother.”
he seems quiet. with the assumption that he’s warming up, you scoot a bit closer to him, eyes on your small, empty cup. “she doesn’t get it, caleb. she doesn’t get you. not anymore atleast. but, i think i . .”
your voice was oozing with certainty, like someone was finally hearing you out. until you looked up and met his gaze, already on you, sharp enough to cut. he was glaring daggers that you could feel cutting in. “don’t get ahead of yourself. and don’t talk about her like that.”
and there it is. it’s always been second nature for him to defend her. no matter what. no matter the context, no matter who was talking. it’s burned you to your core for years. the hurt flashes across your face before you can stamp it down, and a nasty, desperate part of you takes over.
“at least i wouldn’t run!” you snap, slamming the glass on the coffee table. “at least i’m not—not scared of you!”
his eyes widen, a flash of festering animosity cutting through. for a second you think he’s gonna give in and just take the shot still waiting on the table. instead his hand shoots out, grabbing your upper arm in a grip that makes you wince before he shoves you away from him. “get out.” he snaps. “get the fuck out of my apartment.” your gaze follows his finger as it points firmly towards the door.
you jolt up from the couch instantly, left hand squeezing the throbbing spot where he grabbed you. yeah, you’re mortified, but a sick thrill runs through you. you got to him. you cracked the colonel's facade. you turn and stalk towards the door, your hand on the handle, but you pause. there’s silence behind you.
there’s gears moving and turning in his head. moving in directions he doesn’t want to. your sickly words—”she doesn’t get you”— replaying over and over. you might be annoying but you’re not stupid, and you see the crack forming where your little attack lands.
“fuck it.”
his voice is rough, ragged. you turn your head slowly, brows already inching upward in triumph.
“since i’m so hurt by mc . . let’s see if you can make me feel any better, yeah?” he taunts, a challenge and a surrender all in one. the sudden shift of mood ironically makes you feel a tinge of uneasy.
your bravado falters for a second, a flicker of uncertainty in your eyes before you mask it with a sly smile. “. . mhm? and how exactly could I do that? I'm not a mind reader, you know.”
“ride me.”
the command sits in the air, stark and heavy. you hesitate just long enough before he frees himself from his trousers, pulling the waistband below his shaft. he’s big, and watching it grow felt stupidly exciting. gosh, you’ve never rode a dick before, let alone seen one this girthy.
yet you push your panties aside and climb onto him anyway.
the first inch makes it hard to breathe. the second makes your hands curl uselessly at his shoulders. by the time you’re halfway down, already a grunt-fest, caleb’s looking down where you two are connected, hands crossed over his chest, waiting for you to at least start moving.
once you’ve finally sheathed him completely, you awkwardly sit there trying to move. your hips stutter instead of rolling. it’s impossible to ride this thing. a frustrated whine escapes you before you can swallow it. he lets you struggle.
“what’s that?” he murmurs, almost curious. “that’s you riding me?”
heat floods your face. “i just . . need time picking up pace, wait!” as another pathetic grind is given to him.
caleb snorts, calloused hands suddenly coming forward to grip your hips, fingers digging into your flesh. he guides you to slide up and down slowly. too slow. once again you’re rendered useless.
he drags every inch out on purpose. “you’re the one who’s supposed to be helping me right now,” he mutters near your ear, unimpressed. “try again.”
you’re silent. you know better than to embarrass yourself again. “i . . can’t.”
it’s just a smidge above a whisper but caleb acts like he can’t hear it anyway. “you what?” he asks, acting all confused.
“ugh, i can’t!” soon after your plea he’s manhandling you over as your back hits the leather couch, spot warm where he was sat previously.
he’s still agitated, but his mind’s somewhere else now. it’s not mc. it’s on you, and it’s on how to make you stop being so fucking annoying. “you’re a useless brat, y’know?” he taunts, kneading your sensitive nipple just enough to make you squirm in your spot. “bitchy little baby sister.”
your poor pussy’s spasming around nothing as caleb keeps slightly brushing his tip on your entrance. it infuriates you how his words alone make slick pool down your folds, and how caleb can see literally all of it.
“c-caleb, plea—”
“please what?” he cuts you off and finally stops teasing you, only to lean his face closer to yours, his warm breath against your ear. “please what, meimei? please finally put you out of your misery and fuck you? is that what a useless thing like you needs.” the thick head of his dick grinds against your soaking cunt. not pushing in, just applying pressure. a choked sob’s pulled out from you.
before you can form a response, his hand leaves your breast, and his his knees back away. the cold air slaps your cunny half a second before caleb’s hand does. your body jolts at the unexpected slap, desperately trying to grab onto his forearm.
“you liked that, didn’t you?” he does it again, another wet smack to your swollen, sensitive flesh. “you think i ignored you that much? like i didn’t see you sulk when me and mc—”
“please,” you interrupt. “. . don’t think about her while you’re with me.”
for a split second, you think you said too much, again. but, to your luck, you see a grin forming on caleb’s face. he grabs your chin, forcing you to look at him as his dick lays above your stomach, tip just below your belly button.
“you’re right.” he agrees. “she wouldn’t like this, any of this. but you will, won’t you, baby?”
