𓆩❤︎𓆪 MDNI. 18+ modulo!yuuji loves playing with his girl’s tits.

it’s hot. worst, your apartment’s ac has been dead and your ever so loving older boyfriend, yuuji refused to hang around his place instead of yours saying it’s already a trouble when you have a fan in your place anyways.

you told him not to get close to you because you are getting sticky from the sweat despite doing almost everything—being in front of the highest setting fan, balcony door wide opened, and sprayed some cooling mist. 

yet.. here he is, in front of you, playing with your breast through the thin tank top you are wearing with no bra. his both index and thumb finger pinched your nipples until it pebbled through the fabric, making you whimper. 

“ngh—it’s too hot for this right now..” you said as your breath shakes from the way his rough hands cupped your tits. his thumb brushes over the hardened nipple. 

yuuji hummed, “no need to move, just stay there.”

his hands squeeze the flesh before massaging it in a circular motion, eyes focused like this is some important matter. yuuji glanced up to your face, crumpled with pleasure just from being groped by him. your breaths are louder, knees drawn together as you squirm from his touch. 

yuuji flicked your nipples harshly causing you to whimper his name. “yuuuuuji, what are you trying to do?” 

“just trying to appreciate your pretty tits, is that bad?” yuuji asked as his thumbs smooths over your nipples like he’s soothing them from the previous pain he inflicted. “do you not like it, hm?”

“n-no.. it’s good—ah!” you moaned out as he tugs it then rolled around his fingers.

“so cute, my girl is so cute,” yuuji smiled, “want more?”

you nodded meekly, looking down at him. you expect him to take off your top or shove his hands inside your shorts but yuuji lowered down his head. his mouth latched on your covered nipple, sucking the flesh from it. 

yuuji pulled away with a pop. his saliva coats your tank top, causing the fabric to be sheer and show your hardened nipple. your chest heaves as yuuji dives back into the other side, his lips desperately suck on the clothed nipple. 

one of his hands settled on your back as if he was pushing your more to his mouth as you arch, his other hand plays with your other nipple, trapping it between his fingers to roll it around.

yuuji looked up from his lashes to see your mouth open, panting. he flatten out his tongue, licking you over the fabric as he smiled wickedly and leveled his face on you. 

“you good? you look like you’re getting too hot” he leaned a little too give your lips a peck. 

you exhaled, breath fanning his lips. “please.. yuuji, need you” 

yuuji moved to look at your tits again, both nipples are perked up on the damp tank top that his mouth caused. his hands cupped your boobs again, pushing it together before fondling it. 

“but you said it’s hot,” yuuji hummed, not tearing his eyes away from your breast as he caressed them. “i remember you hate being sweaty, always complaining about it”

“i don’t care,”you whined, shaking your head. “not anymore, please.” 

yuuji lowered his head again to put one of your tits in his mouth, he repeatedly sucked on the flesh despite feeling the textured cotton fabric of your clothes. he genuinely thinks it’s hotter than pulling down your top. 

“yuuji, come o—fuck! ahh!” yuuji trapped your nipples between his teeth, softly biting and tugging. 

yuuji sighed with a smile on his face, his lips peppered kisses on your neck and throat. “i’ll think about it, maybe if you ask for more." 

notes. first time writing for yuuji.. lowk scared. ik it's not obv but it's modulo!yuuji on my mind writing this.

18+. the many times you & higuruma get caught at work.

I. case one: the evidence locker ( 8:12 PM )

higuruma hiromi is dark pressed suit, two rings on his long fingers & a moral compass that always points north. you’re a paralegal with skirt 3cm below the dress code & a magnet in your molars that has hiromi’s compass swiveling south.

you’re tugging on his tie now. “come onnn, ‘ruma. please?”

a paralegal should not be referring to their boss as ‘ruma. they also should not be dragging him into the evidence locker at 8PM to look for a ‘missing file’ he swears doesn’t even exist. you’re currently doing both. and higuruma lets you.

your lips are summer sticky & far too hot. your hand’s in his hair now, nails on his nape, his palm bunching at the folds of your skirt. your breath’s ridiculously hot in his mouth as you huff & puff against his tongue, shoving him against the lockers. hiromi slaps your ass when you dare to let out a whine.

BANG !

the loud sound jolts your bodies apart. higuruma’s palm is still on your thigh—“hiromi ?!”

“the auto-lock,” his palms drag over his face. he breathes, “it’s eight-thirty. the basement seals automatically till the morning shift.”

he lets out a low, frustrated groan that vibrates through your rib. even now, you’re still pressed against him, half-clothed tits pressed into his chest as his thumb grazes circles on your hip. he dials a number with his other hand, ignoring the sloppy, gloss-drenched kisses you leave on his jaw as he speaks to the security desk at the end of the line.

half-an-hour later—after higuruma’s stewing & you calming him down with apology head, complete with your hair tied in a sympathy bun of course—the heavy metal door drags open. a security guard armed with a flashlight walks in. he’s greeted with the sight of higuruma buttoning your shirt, sympathy bun long come undone.

you’re free. and you’re in so much trouble.

★ Y/N L/N ⎯⎯ DISCIPLINARY RECORD.

offense: UNAUTHORIZED AFTER-HOURS ACCESS & BREACH OF SECURITY

punishment: Written warning & $500 Penalty fine for Emergency Override.

issued by: Levi Ackerman, Chief of security.

CC: Higuruma Hiromi, [Y/N] [L/N]

‘the evidence locker is no place for ‘private deliberations.’ and keep in mind all audio is recorded. in no world should the word ‘tight’ be moaned in an emergency distress call.

the office door clicks shut behind you, softer than it should for how much attitude you carried through it.

your dad’s best friend, hiromi doesn’t even look up from the deposition transcript he’s marking. red pen scratches another line. “you’re supposed to be downstairs. with the others.”

“they’re boring.” you hop onto the edge of his desk anyway, thighs parting just enough that the hem of your skirt rides indecently high. “and you’ve been ignoring me for three hours.”

the pen pauses. his jaw flexes once. “i’m working.”

“you’re always working.” your foot nudges the inside of his knee under the desk, slow, deliberate. “thought you said you’d take a break when i asked nicely.”

he exhales through his nose. still doesn’t lift his eyes. “that wasn’t asking nicely. that was grinding against my thigh in the elevator like a cat in heat.” he corrects.

heat climbs your neck but you don’t back down. instead you lean back on your palms, arching just enough that your tits push against the thin cotton of your top. no bra and making sure he noticed that the second you walked in.

“maybe if you paid attention i wouldn’t have to resort to desperate measures.”

the pen finally drops, clatters against the wood and when he finally looks at you his eyes are dark, tired in that way that makes your stomach flip, like he’s already decided how this ends and he’s just waiting for you to stop pretending you have any control.

“get off my desk.”

you don’t move.

he stands slow, his body towers you. one big hand wraps your ankle, yanks you forward until your ass is right on the edge and your legs have to hook around his hips to keep balance. the other hand fists the front of your shirt, drags you upright until your mouths are a breath apart.

“brat,” he mutters, almost fond. almost.

then he kisses you like he’s punishing both of you for it. after all you’re his closest friend’s daughter. you both shouldn’t be doing this.

he, of all, should not be doing this to you. for fucks sake.

the kiss however? it’s messy. teeth and tongue and the faint metallic taste of the coffee he’s been living on since six a.m. his fingers find the hem of your skirt, shove it up to your waist in one rough motion.

you’re already soaked through the cotton of your panties; he groans low in his throat when his thumb presses against the damp fabric. “fuck. wii you look at that.” he pulls back just enough to watch his own hand work between your legs. “you always make this hard, y’know that. filthy little thing.”

you try to roll your hips but he pins you with a forearm across your stomach. “stay still.”

“hiromi—”

“no.” he hooks two fingers in the side of your underwear and yanks them to the side. the cool air hits your clit and you whimper. “you wanted my attention. you’re getting it.”

he doesn’t ease in.

one thick finger slides inside you, then two, curling immediately against that spot that makes your thighs shake. his thumb circles your clit at the same time with a steady pressure and of course, no mercy. your head tips back, mouth open on a silent cry.

“quiet,” he says against your throat. “thin walls.”

you bite your lip so hard you’re sure you’re tasting copper.

he fucks you with his fingers until you’re clenching, fluttering, right on the edge—then pulls out completely. you whine desperate, hips chasing nothing.

“shh.” he’s already undoing his belt, the metal clinking loud in the quiet office. “you’ll get what you want. just not how you want it.”

his cock springs free, heavy and flushed dark at the tip. he doesn’t bother with a condom; you’re both too far gone for that conversation again. instead he notches himself at your entrance, drags the head through your slick once, twice, coating himself.

then he thrusts in to the hilt in one brutal stroke. both of you making small, barely a whisper, inhumane sound.

your nails dig into his shoulders. the stretch burns in the best way, fills you so completely you can barely breathe. he doesn’t give you time to adjust. just grips your hips and fucks into you hard against the desk, papers sliding, pen rolling to the floor.

every thrust shoves you further across the wood. your skirt’s bunched around your waist, panties stretched to the side, tits bouncing under your shirt with each slam. he watches it all with half-lidded eyes, jaw tight, sweat already beading at his temple.

“this what you wanted?” his voice is low, wrecked. “hm? wanted me to fold you over my work and fuck the attitude out of you?”

you can’t answer. every time you open your mouth all that comes out is a broken moan.

he angles his hips, hits that spot again and again until your vision whites out at the edges. one hand leaves your hip to wrap around your throat—not squeezing, just holding. you know hiromi would never hurt or make you uncomfortable in any way.

“look at me.”

you struggle when your eyes snap to his.

“good girl.” his thumb strokes along your pulse. “now come. make a mess on my desk so i have to think about it every time i sit here tomorrow.”

that does it.

you shatter around him, clenching so hard he curses under his breath. your orgasm rips through you, thighs trembling, back arching off the desk. he fucks you through it, relentless, chasing his own release.

when he comes it’s with a low, guttural sound, hips stuttering as he fills you deep. hot pulses that make you whimper all over again. he stays buried inside you for a long minute, breathing hard against your neck.

then he pulls out slow, watches his cum leak out of you and leak onto the polished wood.

“look at that,” he murmurs, almost to himself. “ruined my desk.”

you’re still catching your breath when he tucks himself away, fixes his tie, smooths his shirt like nothing happened.

he leans down, kisses you once and it’s soft this time, almost sweet.

“next time you want attention,” he says against your lips, “wait for my lunch break.”

he straightens himself. picks up his pen from the floor. sits back down.

and goes right back to marking that fucking deposition like you aren’t still leaking him onto his case files.

you stay there another minute, legs shaking, heart hammering, then you slide off the desk, fix your skirt, and walk out.

knowing full well you’ll be back tomorrow.

same time, same attitude.

ꨄ︎ NSFW ALPHABET ꨄ︎

𓏲ּFeaturing𝄢 Tamsy Caines

𓏲ּCW𝄢 NSFW | MDNI | it's a NSFW alphabet, there's a bit of everything.

🪽Dove's notes: GRAAAH TAMSY GRAAAAAAAHHH

A = Aftercare

Tamsy is not an overly affectionate person by default, but he would always clean his partner after sex and dress them. It's part of his own aftercare, a ritual of sorts if you may— The routine and control that comes with being responsible for what happens to your pliable body brings him gratification to an emotional level.

He will also demand that you stay after and sleep with him. If you had plans? Too bad, they're automatically cancelled. No exceptions.

Although subtle, Tamsy tends to linger much more often around you for the next two days without even realizing.

 B = Bondage

Where to even start with this one.

The biggest AND best rigger out there. His partner must be a rope bunny otherwise it won't work.

Tamsy likes to have you at his complete mercy when in the bedroom and is not above using less...conventional methods to hold you still. He is personally a fan of Bowline knots for the sheer amount of uses it provides, Hishi Karada because it makes his bunny look absolutely lovely, Sheepshank to provide his partner both the illusion of being able to move around and a bit more comfort, Ladder ties to hold you in place when he needs and he usually mixes labbing and playing for aesthetic purposes.

Something worth highlighting is the fact the entire process is arousing for him. From picking the material and color to wrapping them around your body with calm and precision, relishing how you look when tied up. The rope burns and bruises left behind is also something he loooooves to see, like he's obsessed with, and each time they peek out of your clothes in public he feels rush run through his body.

 C = Crying:

Absolutely gets off on watching you cry and whimper. That iron will of his won't crack regardless of how many tears roll down your cheeks or how much you plead. Unless you call a safe word/use a sign there is no mercy from him.

 D = Dominance:

Very much a dom and he enjoys grooming his partner to fit his vision of them.

I'd like to make it clear Tamsy has no need to raise his voice or be aggressive to show he's the one in charge. His dominance lays in the way you're subtly and carefully trained every day to abide to his requests— From small things such as deciding what you wear or where you sit to offering your body obediently for him to tie with a simple gesture of hands from him.

 E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

He doesn't come off as someone with no experience to me. Though I think his partners are chosen veeeery strictly by standards that only make sense to him.

 F = Favorite position(s):

Reverse cowgirl with a reverse prayer knot and a tight leash around your neck, which he will tug on it occasionally to “help” you stay upright.

Strappado with a spreader bar so he can fuck his partner's little mouth while they have a vibrator or dildo shoved inside them.

Missionary but with a frogtie and elbow restraint so his partner is helpless when he rams his cock into them.

 G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

Tamsy is serious in the strict sense. He may have a calm poker face on and speak sweetly, but he is not letting you fool around. Your focus should be only in this very moment and jokes will not be well received during sex.

 H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

For personal reasons only I like to think he has a biiit of hair on his carpet. Nothing much though, just for aesthetic purposes like always.

He also has a personal taste for a well groomed partner just like himself because being able to see every little detail when you're spread out for him is important. He will shave his partner himself if you let him and takes it upon himself to be responsible for how you look. (He loves this sort of thing.)

 I = Impact play:

Hitting you is not necessarily his thing, but is also not completely off the table. Tamsy wouldn't use his hands when he does it— He'd opt for some type of tool like paddles or floggers.

Although I'd like to add this type of play is reserved strictly for partners that are actual masochists and he would use it more often for their pleasure rather than only for punishment. (he has much crueler punishments for misbehaving bunnies.)

 J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

He is not too keen on having fun by himself and considering how busy he is Tamsy forgets that's even an option. He prefers to wait until someone he likes appears than playing by himself.

 K = Kissing:

was also be covered —here—

But to add to that, during sex his kisses are treats you need to earn. He will give them everywhere except for your mouth, waiting patiently for the moment where you're about to cum to press his lips against yours and won't pull away until you ride out the wave of orgasm, swallowing your moans and gasps. 

Something unique about his kisses is that he uses them as emotional regulators. During your training, your body is taught to relax when he kisses you and assimilate them to comfort so that even during more intense plays where he's speaking a bit more harshly or pushing your limits you still feel that small gesture of affection. 

 L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

Always somewhere private where he's confident no one will walk in and with a sturdy headboard and comfortable mattress. He is not doing any deed on some flimsy old bed.

 M = Masochism:

Sadist, and a big one at that.

His favorite thing is watching his partner struggle and submit to him. He loooooves a good breath play as well and if his partner is a M then those desires of his will come out much more strongly— He will indulge in much harsher degradation, humiliation and advanced plays. He needs someone that can match his level of freak.

 N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

He is not a sub in any shape or form nor would he enjoy being placed into that role.

Overly bratty/natural brats. Like I said, he likes to train his partners and although some defiance most certainly is welcomed at first, actual brats NEED to be brats to get off (if thats not obvious) so that's a no for him.

He also couldn't have a vanilla partner and someone that's overly sensitive is an automatic turn off for him.

 O = Oral

He enjoys a good blowjob as much as the next person. Tamsy likes to receive them when your arms are tied and his body is the only thing you can rely on to support yourself without tipping over, taking his cock deeper into your mouth until you choked on it.

Being eaten out by this man is a treat. He will do it while your body is at the mercy of his ropes and your eyes blindfolded so that you're surprised when you feel his mouth sucking and licking you. He is a slow eater— Tamsy will edge you a handful of times with his mouth before you're allowed to cum and when you do he'd fuck you with his tongue until you cum again.

 P = Patience:

Looooots and lots of denial.

He will only reward you if you can hold back your orgasms until he gives you permission. Of course he makes it basically impossible to on purpose to see you fail and punish you.

 Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Not his thing. He likes to have the time and space to torture pleasure his partner.

 R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

Natural risk taker. A rule of thumb for him is that he is willing to try anything at least once IF his interest is peaked enough.

If remote vibrators were a thing then he would have the time of his life playing with you under the strict rules that you absolutely could not let anyone find out or he'd never play with you again. (He may or may not be joking, who knows with this guy). 

Tamsy will also have you wear a variation of knots under your clothes during the day to see how well you can maintain his gift until he comes back to check.

 S = Sleepy sex:

Do NOT bother him when he's sleeping. That's the quickest way to upset him.

That rule also applies to you because he won't bother you when you're resting. Tamsy likes his partner and him to be completely present during sex and resting time is strictly for resting.

 T = Top or bottom:

Vers! and a power bottom.

He enjoys both giving and receiving and looks for a partner open to switching whenever he wants to. Being on top with Tamsy is something you'll have to work for it— He doesn't let others touch him willy-nilly and it's a reward you need to prove be worth of.

 U = Underwear:

He appreciates soft and flowy fabrics, particularly so if it gives him easy access to you. Silk robes, matching lingerie. Oh and if you want to earn extra point then you have to color match him. Go for dark blues, whites or a soft yellow when picking out a piece.

He is also big on picking out clothes for the ones he loves and you can trust him to make you the prettiest, sexiest version of yourself.

 V = Voyeurism:

He can't say he's completely uninterested when he watches some other couple get it on. It's the same rule as everything else: If his interest is peaked, then he will indulge.

Were the situation arise and he's not yet completely emotionally invested in you then Tamsy would certainly be interested in watching you in the hands of others. Whether he may interrupt in the middle or not depends on his affection level.

 W = Wild card: (A personal headcanon that can be considered unexpected)

I feel like this whole thing has been a wild card lmao. But if I had to choose then although he is very self-centered Tamsy's pleasure is directly driven by his partner's. If you're not feeling so good you struggle to even think straight and is just bearing through it then he also won't get much into it and will quickly grow bored. He is not someone that can complete disregard his partner's feelings in the bedroom, though he looks like he would.

 X = X-Ray:

I ain't doing this LMFAO sorry pookies dick anatomy is not for me. yk, a dick is a dick. Just know it's probably the prettiest dick you've seen and circumcized.

 Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

His sex drive is not overly high or too low. He usually fluctuates between them because he rarely has a partner around to soothe them anyway. With someone fixed though he can be quite active in the bedroom.

 Z = Zones (His sensitive spot/s)

Pulling on his hair will make him hard without fail, especially when you do it a bit rougher by accident. 

His back is also very sensitive so scratches of nails or/and kisses are both veeeery welcomed by him.

Tamsy Caines x f!Reader

summary: Tamsy can't stop staring at your choker.

warnings: 18+ minors/ageless/blank blogs dni, smut, tamsy (the warning is tamsy), no manga spoilers but possibly manga vibe spoilers (if that makes sense?), tamsy is a freak, pretty graphic depictions of choking/fantasies about choking, noncon/dubcon, tamsy is jerking off on the reg to the mental image of you and your choker, tokushin being used as god intended, minor blood kink but only as it relates to possessiveness, mentioned human trafficking, tamsy is really out here trying to trigger a ptsd episode, submissive!reader, sadist!tamsy bc duh, manipulative!tamsy bc duh, yandere!tamsy bc duh

notes: tumblr didn't like my original title for this so I had to settle for this less good title and I'm sad. ofc my first fic in over a year was never going to be easy.

words: 4k

minors, ageless, and blank blogs do not comment, like, or reblog

Chokers are so universally worn on the ground that they hardly warrant a second glance. Some people try to turn them into a true accessory by attaching charms. Others wear them as bracelets rather than around their necks. But no matter how people dress up or style their chokers, there’s nothing remarkable about them.

And yet, Tamsy finds himself unable to look away from yours. At first, he thinks it’s as simple as wanting to savor the sight of something wrapped around the elegant column of your throat. He’s spent countless hours imagining it’s one of Tokushin’s ropes circling your neck instead of the communicator. He’s spent just as many hours fisting his cock and imagining taking Tokushin’s rope once it’s around your neck and tightening it with his bare hands until your teary eyes roll back as you lose consciousness. 

But for as much time as he spends fantasizing about your throat, his hands, and navy rope infused with Anima, he knows it’s something more than that.

So then, he thinks it's because he's the one who gave it to you when he found you, when he saved you, and recruited you for Team Eager. Just knowing that an object he gave you is constantly hanging around your neck, and that it carries his blood, is enough to make him hard — especially when he thinks about how your blood is imbued in the choker around his own neck.

you're soaking the ring around his middle finger, staining his sleeve with your arousal, but zanka doesn't stop.

he pushes and prods at your inner walls, inhaling sharply at the way you squeeze and tighten around his fingers, your hips jerking in search of more.

more — of this, of zanka fingering you languidly, his index and middle fingers crooked up to push against that spot that makes you gasp. your legs wrapped around his waist, your hands tangled in his hair, your voice cracking over the syllables of his name — "zanka, please, i'm so close."

"mm," he grunts, feeling his cock throb, ignoring it, too intent upon watching your every twitch and squirm. "you're — lovely."

that earns him a halfhearted kick, your foot prodding his back as he sinks his fingers in deep. "zanka," you whine, "please, please fuck me already."

"wanna make ya cum first," zanka breathes, pressing a kiss to your jaw. he leans back to watch the slick gliding down his fingers, the way you swallow him down to the knuckle, your chest heaving. your hands loosen from his hair and you grip his forearm instead, nails biting into his sleeve. "wanna — wanna see."

"you — ngh —"

you fall apart and he picks the pieces up, kisses you hard and groans into your mouth, fingering you through it as you squeeze and squeeze and squeeze.

zanka shares your breaths, collapses into the cradle of your legs as his cock kicks in his pants. "fuck," he gasps. he takes a moment, tries to gather himself, and then — "ya really know how ta make a guy feel special."

suguru cums in your panties ₍ᐢ. .ᐢ₎

suguru has a weird problem, one that can’t be stopped and that’s making you wear your panties with his fresh cum in them. 

it’s more territorial than anything but he likes knowing he’s with you all day. 

“suguru please, i’m late for work.” 

he huffs a laugh, one hand on your hip to keep you steady in place and the other stroking himself while you hold your panties down. 

“i know baby im working as fast as i can.”

a strand of his hair falling from his bun, a bead of sweat slowly dropping down onto the floor. 

he’ll hold your whole schedule up for this, it was almost flattering in a way. 

it all became worth it when he actually finished, streams of cum leaking onto the fabric, a low groan rumbling in his throat. 

“oh fuck baby, you gonna keep it there all day for me?”

you softly gasp watching it. 

your eyes are fixated on his dick, how pretty it looks, how each vein becomes more prominent when he’s finishing and the flush on his tip that looks sensitive. 

“mhm.”

suguru smiled a little at your small response,  the last stream of his cum leaking on the middle of your panties. 

he swipes the tip of his dick and tuck himself back in then pulling your panties up which makes you squirm a little. 

“wear them all day, don’t even go to the bathroom.”

then it starts. 

it starts warm, the wetness coating your soft folds then it quickly turns cold. 

whenever you sit you can feel some it slip between your folds some, then you get used to the sensation. 

if he’s feeling nasty he’ll lay you down and jerk off over your pretty pussy, softly rubbing your clit while he does it, making sure you’re wet to the furthest extent. 

“you like that hm? keep those thighs spread mhm there we go.”

letting you get wetter and finishing all over your pussy, taking in the sight then helping you put your panties back on. 

he wants his cum coated all over you as long as you can hold, he doesn’t care if it eventually crusted or left a stain that’s hard to get out after the fact, he just wants his place known. 

even going as far as to finish inside of you, just letting it leak out inside of your panties instead, letting it soak down into the fabric, having you feel his cum coat your wet walls and slowly leak down throughout the day. 

it all depended on he wanted to go about it that day, sometimes he did both.

had you soaking in him, being reminded every time you sat down, walked, moved a certain way that he was right there warm against you.

when you come home he’ll check them, softly pull them down your thighs and see his cum still coated over you but crusted and your panties stained. 

you’ve gone through so many pairs of panties that are now permanently stained with them that he had to buy more that he eventually stained too. 

⟢ bf!tamsy who always accommodates for what you lack in height whenever you want to kiss him or touch his face—leaning down without complaint, but only after watching you pout a little first.

“careful now, angel,” he murmurs, “you’ll strain your achilles.”

🀥 bf!tamsy who lightly taps your cheek with his index finger when you zone out, head tilting as his gaze softens.

“…are you paying attention, hm?”

⟢ bf!tamsy who sends you off to missions with a feather-light kiss pressed to your temple, gentle enough to barely linger—while, unbeknownst to you, his tokushin slips an almost impossible-to-notice thread around your finger.

for safety purposes, of course.

🀥 bf!tamsy who, after enough nagging, finally gives in and lets you see the scars spread across his chest, eyes softening despite himself as you trace the jagged edges with the light drag of a fingernail.

⟢ bf!tamsy who takes one look at the tear in your clothes and doesn’t even consider sending you to august. absolutely not. he quietly takes them from your hands, needle already threaded, because there’s no way in hell he’s going to allow that scatterbrained man lay his fingers on fabric that’s been against your skin.

🀥 bf!tamsy who lets you curl up on his lap without a word, you pepper soft kisses along his cheek, and he waits—patient, indulgent—as they drift closer to his lips. when your bottom lip brushes his labret piercing, it catches just enough to remind you it’s there, cool metal against warmth.

⟢ bf!tamsy who feels the moment you lose focus, fingers coming up to toy with it instead, curiosity overtaking intent. a quiet chuckle slips from him at that, fond, as his finger brushes against your hip.

🀥 bf!tamsy who sings you lullabies when you tell him you feel restless. his slight accent catching onto the tips of his melodized words. the cadence deems itself unfamiliar to your ears, however, it’s hard to care when you drift off within minutes every time.

⟢ bf!tamsy who always makes sure you end up seated beside him in the car whenever enjin ropes team eager into another mission with team akuta. he lets you rest your head against his collarbone—but only on the ride back, when the job is done and you’ve already worked yourself thin doing exactly what was asked of you.

🀥 bf!tamsy who fights the muscles in his face, forcing them into stillness even as a shadow of a grimace threatens to slip through when your weak, fevered body clings to him in desperation. the mission he’s dispatched to is mandatory, but before he leaves, he gathers what little composure he has left and presses a careful kiss into your clammy palm, (despite all the germs he’s sure are wandering the surface).

⟢ bf!tamsy who lets you fuss over his injuries, deliberately steering clear of eisha just so your pretty hands can tend to him instead. he tilts his head, quietly amused, listening to you ramble about him needing to be more careful next time.

“now, now, my dear.. there’s no need to get so worked up.”

🀥 bf!tamsy who lets you braid his long, pretty hair to your heart’s content, patiently allowing you to intertwine his locks into a two-toned braid. he has one condition though, you have to face him while you work, so he can watch the adorable little expression you make when you’re concentrating—his words.