!?

"enough, you. i am trying to watch this." sukuna hisses, pushing your socked feet away from his face for the umpteenth time. you keep rubbing the fuzzy fabric against him because it makes him shudder. you never thought he, your hulking, strong, worryingly resistant-to-pain boyfriend would be all sensitive and ticklish to some fuzz, and yet here you are.

"why? it's cute, kuna. im just showing you somethin'." goadingly, you nudge the clean fabric under his chin, hoping to rile him up further, and he grabs your ankle and drags you forward, snarling at you and grabbing both of your feet, holding them in place against his lap.

oh.

oh.

he must underestimate you.

slowly, you rub the soles of your covered feet back and forth against his crotch, feeling the bulge twitch and throb at the attention inflicted on it. now, sukuna's trying to save face, staring stubbornly at the tv and pretending his dick's not overreacting to some faint touches.

you laugh. "you're so sensitive. think you can cum just from this?"

"i haven't the faintest idea what you're referring to."

you laugh and turn your feet so that your soles are placed together with his chubbed bulges in between. you rub up and down and side to side slowly, rolling his dicks and pressing them together in the thin sweatpants he's wearing tonight. hideous thing, he thinks. he only wore it because you bought it for him after he'd been wearing robes around your home.

wanting him to have more casual, comfortable clothing, you bought him a couple pieces of loungewear - mostly in gray - and gave it to him, reassuring him tht nobody's meant to see him in it but you.

and here you are, taking advantage of his love for you and willingness to wear the thin fabric that makes the print of his dick visible through it, an easy way for you to watch his cocks grow and react whenever your feet rub on them just right.

with how hard he is, there's little space in his sweats and even less in his custom-made boxers, so the friction you're giving him is just causing his cocks to press together, mixing pre-cum leakage since his tips are touching.

sukuna tips his head back. "fuck, what are you doing, human? this is obscene," he pants, unable to stifle his sounds. the remote control in one of his four hands clatters to the sofa cushion as he focuses on your feet between his strong thighs, not even interesting in playing it cool anymore.

the fabric of his sweats bunches and stretches over his thickening shafts, pressing against all the ridges and veins and heightening his sensitivity. it's different from if he were bare, or if it were your hands wrapping around his dicks. there's so much stimulation with both your feet on both his cocks through his clothes; that he just can't hold it in much longer.

the heads of his cocks keep rubbing quick circles against each other with each pump of your feet on him, having created a large wet spot on the front of his pants. you laugh softly, and he grits his teeth with embarrassment, a dark flush spreading across his cheeks. "do not- hnghh- mock me..." he tries to get out, but just manages to slur all his words together as his groans take over.

you continue moving your feet up and down in a long, rhythmic, stroking motion, the precum leaking out of him smearing along his dicks and acting as a heavy lubricant. the heat and mosture is trapped between fabric and skin.

you increase the pressure, squeezing his cocks together and curling your toes around the swollen heads, the movement a heavy, dragging sensation that makes his hips twitch upwards involuntarily. "you havin' fun, kuna?" you tease upon seeing the fucked out expression on his face, and he grits his teeth with aggravation.

"ill get you - fuck - back for this in just a moment, believe me..."

he breaks off into another heavy groan.

by now, the entire front of his sweatpants are soaked from pre seeping out of both his tips.

sukuna's close. close to cumming in his pants from some foot rubbing. so pathetic.

you pick up the pase, feet moving in frantic, inconsistent motions so that all of him is stimulated at once, effectively milking his cock through his pants. at some point, he shudders, grabbing fistfuls of his pink locks to keep himself calm. but its hard when you keep rubbing your toes on his sensitive tips, squeezing and rolling them against one another, while your sole and heel press into his shafts.

sukuna uses two of his hands to press your feet together a little harder, lifting them up and down on his dick quick and rough; making them press all up on his cock until finally, a fresh bout of wetness spreads on his pants.

he grunts your name as he cums, keeping your feet on him while he bucks up into them, his other two hands gripping the back of the sofa to keep him stable as he cums from both of his swollen tips.

convulsing, more and more cum pumps out of sukuna, your feet squeezing it straight out of him.

your feet keep grinding the hot release into the cloth of his pants, mixing it with sweat and the patch of pre from earlier, making a sticky mess all over the pants. some even seeps out and rests on the outer seam because of the thin fabric. you've made such a mess of him.

"What's your problem, huh?" he snaps, holding you down without much struggle even as you kick and thrash under him like a wild animal. "You don't listen. If you just behaved yourself, this could've gone so much better for you." you struggle to get a breath in, spluttering and choking helplessly as caleb squeezes your neck firmly. He's growing fascinated at the way blood rushes to your face and tinges it with color, while your pupils dilate. His cock twitches a bit in his pants, excited by the look of helplessness crossing your face.

randomly did that 'power of light and shadow' art trend but with tamsy

I have a lot of Tamsy writings in my notes and some Enjin… should I post them all soon? And sorry if he’s ooc… I tried to display what his true personality would be like if he was comfortable enough to do it with another person. My inspo? I saw two Metalhead Tamsy fan arts that made me feral.

Context: Rich metalhead Tamsy. Normal AU.

Warnings: AFAB Reader. He does drugs lwk... It's implied though. Implied relationship... idk fwb? Smut at the end. Will be separated. Tamsy’s mind wanders off to noncon for a moment since I was thinking about exploring his personality.

Word count: 4.7k

Dark, thrifted clothing with every stretched out thread and hole imaginable lining the edge of his baggy shirt, pants nearly three times the width of his legs, and held up securely by a studded belt–it all somehow looked ethereal yet grounding. Probably due to his angelic appearance, you think… yeah, that’s part of why. He’s a naturally pretty boy.

His two contrasting looks: the sweetest round face and cutest button nose known to man, and flowing, nearly platinum blond hair, and a darker under displaying his true nature: all depravity. The picture-perfect embodiment of what would be worshipped at the altar. The savior you’d see in your dreams, and the kind of man you only saw once in your life and never again.

“Still don’t want to?”

“…you cannot be serious.”

The plastic baggy is held between an index finger and thumb as he sweetly smiles at you, golden eyes crinkling. The powder displaces itself as he shakes it–the very white powder.

White like his pristine home, excuse me, mansion. Amazingly pristine and enormous. Multiple rooms with a specific, arbitrary purpose. He even had a spiral staircase in the damn place.

His room? It somehow reflects the utopia of his home and the rugged uniqueness of how much he adored metal. It was a room that was regal enough to have a canopy, shielding you both in the sanctuary of his king-sized bed, and a chandelier, while also having stands and display cases for his multiple collected possessions–all sorts of guitars and knick-knacks.

A prized guitar on the wall too. It had the charm of being an outsider when compared to his room, having a golden and white aesthetic. He made sure to keep it cleaned at all times. Yet, his status of being on the higher end of society showed with his bookshelf, nearly its own mini library, and walk in closet. Clothes and accessories you haven’t even seen online, yet it was somehow thrifted.

And with all that money he naturally had access to? He mostly spent it on cheap thrills. The one-time experience of a certain narcotic, but, interestingly enough, never on smokes or marijuana. The real shit, however? His band T's and collectibles? He made sure to get that through hard work from his admiration. No posers allowed, no matter if he was a spoiled kid.

“Like? Why do you even have that shit, dude.”

“Curious.”

“No, I’m not curious–“

He pops open the bag as he plops down beside you, legs stretching along the dark quilt as his back lies pressed on the pillows. His smile widens more, and you immediately cover your nose with a panicked expression.

“It wasn’t exactly a question. Here, sniff it.” Trails of blond slowly spill over his shoulder in strands as he leans toward you, hand gripping the sheets as his eyes darken with mirth.

“Get that shit outta my face, Tamsy.”

“You know, I’ve tried it before,” his expression sours for a moment as he lowers the bag and obviously ignores your discomfort. His fingers on the dark bedding slowly itch towards your form, then quickly cup the back of your neck.

There’s a brief shock to your system from how cold his fingers are, and he, surprisingly, doesn’t force your nose to take a dive in the bag dangled between his fingers. The hint of mirth in his eyes are replaced with disgust as his lips run to a tangent, the air spiked with hostility.

“I think whoever formulated the slightest idea of cocaine should jump off a building.”

You sigh annoyed, and his fingers tug on the curls on your neck.

“Okay, now you’re acting like you’re on meth, and nobody told you to cope that stuff neither.”

Torrents of blond and blue pour onto your lap as he lies his cheek on your shoulder, the portion that has the discolored scar, and the rest of the long strands fan his bedding. He stares at your profile through his thick lashes as the tense air smoothens into a soft, relaxing stillness once more. “Should I try methamphetamine next then?”

“No. Stop chasing a high.”

He smiles again then finally tosses the dastardly bag on his nightstand.

The scarred male's rough fingers whisper along your nape in a teasing rub, and you instantly arch away from his touch. His eyes follow you as you wriggle away from his hand. 

He frowns, but it clearly doesn’t reach his eyes as you maneuver from his touch. His lips pull downwards, but his eyes crinkle more with a different story, one that decorates his fair features with amusement.

“First you reject my offering then you reject my affection?”

You snort. “You were tickling me.”

His voice is soft, naturally velvety, really, as he hums. “Would’ve been nice to see you laughing. I like the noise.”

You tilt your head down to his face still propped on your shoulder, nose pushing against his upturned one.

“Noise is a negative way to describe something you claim you like.”

Immediately tempted, he presses his lips against yours before you can blink, a taste of his plushness, then he pulls back. There’s silence between you two in the moment his golden irises clash with your depths, letting the heat simmer for a moment. His lips then hungrily meet yours again, abruptly as his fingers cup your nape, forcing your lips down to his.

He gradually lifts his head off your shoulder as his lips move quickly against yours, the quick and quiet noise piercing the silence of his room. They’re warm and soft with just the right amount of moisture–perfect, really. 

His plump lips increase their fever, and you feel the ghost of his labret touching your lower lip. There’s a constant passing of coolness on your lower lip while his own continues moving against yours–the neediness exhibited in his unreasonable hurriedness. He could take his time with tasting you, and he could savor every slow tug and press of softness.

But his heart pounds faster and reaches heights not even the drugs could touch when he’s devouring you.

…

“Come with me.”

You stand in the little bathroom of your apartment as he leans against the doorway. Dressed in his oversized shirt, you don’t bother turning your head to the male as you focus on flossing, eyes making conversation more with the mirror rather than him.

“To?”

His hair flutters behind him as he enters the bathroom and stands beside you. He takes two of the thick scrunchies on the counter and pins up his hair; thick hair like his needs more than one flimsy little hair tie to keep his mane in place. 

He then turns on the faucet while staring at you through the mirror, the squeak of it a bit grating. “A concert I plan on going to.”

Your eyes remain locked on your jaw as your slide the thread between your teeth. “And when?”

He cups his hands under the faucet then leans over the counter hunched, “tomorrow,” and casually splashes his face with water.

You immediately pause your repetitive movement. Your eyes avert from your teeth to the male dampening his face as he twists the water off. The flossing pick gets debated on being thrown or not as he opens his eyes and reaches for the cleanser, clicking open the bottle and lathering a dollop in his palm.

“Are you dead ass?"

He immediately cracks open an eye with a smile as he rubs his palms together, evenly spreading the facial soap, then places them on his face, hands moving in circular motions.

“Hmm? Don’t want to go?”

“There is no way you invited me last minute.”

He shrugs as he stands upright and gazes at his reflection, washing the cleanser into his skin with the mirror’s aid. His face is immediately caked in white suds as his eyes avert to yours in the mirror.

“There isn’t. It’s next week. Thursday.”

You glare at him; the casual rage baiting doing its work. 

You spit venom back at him as you wave the tiny flosser. “I should put hot sauce in your cleanser one day.”

Yes, he's constantly at your apartment to where his entire skin care catalogue takes up the space in your home.

Tamsy doesn’t falter in his practiced movement as he hunches over the counter again and flicks on the faucet once more. The running water answers you first, then his response, nonchalant but not hiding the amused lilt. His eyes glance at you from over his shoulder as a pretty lock briefly passes in his vision, gracefully submitting to gravity but subdued by the streaming faucet’s water. 

“You little sadist. Is it to see me cry over my ruined skin or to suffer from the burn?”

You roll your eyes at his feigned ignorance. “How about a consequence for always trying to egg me on?”

He closes his eyes as he splashes his face a couple times then scrubs away the remaining suds. “I don’t think that’s fair.”

“No, it is.”

He stands up with eyes closed as droplets of water trail down his dripping face. His eyelashes are beautifully curled as the roundness of his cheeks glistens. You watch as a droplet escapes and plops itself on his shirt, then sigh as he blindly reaches for the fluffy rag on the rack to dry his face. 

You cup the back of his wrist to stop his wandering hand then grab the rag for him. Your hand then slowly guides him to face you, and you begin to dab his face dry.

“Thank you, dear.”

“Shut up. You use that when you’re lying.”

He smiles and leans down more into your hands dabbling away the moisture. Feeling dry enough, the male then pulls away and slides open the medicine cabinet to pull out cotton pads and face toner.

“Don’t you want to come, dove?”

You place a hand on your hip as you place the rag back on the hanging rack.

“I didn’t say no. I just didn’t want you asking me something important last minute.”

He clicks open the bottle with a flick of his thumb and tilts it over the cotton swab, and a chemical smell wafts in the air for a moment. The liquid quickly bleeds into the white pad and drenches it, and he pats the Apple of his cheeks first as he stares at the mirror. He's quite the diva for a man who headbangs first in the morning.

“So, are you still coming?” His voice is soft and light, almost sounding innocent in its request, but you can easily hear the hint of impatience in his voice, wanting a true confirmation from your lips rather than an implicit statement. The nerve of him. 

Exasperated, “Tamsy, yes.”

He dabs the pad on his forehead and chin, “Good. Match with me.”

You place your hands on your hips, growing more annoyed at his demands, then falter, knowing you couldn’t reject anything he wanted. “As in wear your clothes or actually match with you?”

“Wear my clothes,” he dabs the damp pad on his button nose then covers the rest of his face that’s untouched.

You lean on the counter, staring at his side profile, and admire his Cupid’s bow from the side, every angle of his face worthy to be mindlessly stared at. You’re tempted to touch his face, but you know he’d grab your wrist in an iron grip before it could even hover towards his cheek. Pretty, proper metalhead boy doesn't like it when his routine is disturbed.

The treacherous freed lock from his bun lingers wetly aside his cheek, and you brush it behind his ear without a second thought. The male pauses from your impulsive, considerate gesture, since the blond strand is wet enough from the faucet. He slowly pulls his gaze from the mirror. His lips then curl as his eyes become half-lidded, amused, and speaking with his usual amusement.

 “What is it, Tamsy?”

“Moisturize my face.”

You take your hand away as he flicks the used cotton pad in the tiny bin beside the sink. Its purpose was served well for a pedantic man. 

Sighing, you grab the face lotion from the medicine cabinet and pop it open with a flick of your thumb. You squirt a reasonable amount on your palm and lift your eyes only to smile at the comical sight he displays. 

Tamsy, with quick motions and eyes closed, is fanning the toner dry on his face with his hands. He turned his face side to side to catch all angles for the manmade wind to reach. You immediately laugh at his prissy nature, the thing only you get to see, and set the moisturizer down. 

With your freed hand, you, too, quickly fan the toner dry on his face, and he smiles more at feeling the extra coolness caressing his skin. “Sweet, you are. Especially after my continued pestering.”

“I guess I love you.”

His smile is gone within seconds, flattening into a line, and his eyes slowly crack open. The gold in his eyes somehow glows with a calculating glare, and you immediately turn your head away, not wanting to face his passive aggresive wrath. Though it was hard to ignore the grin creeping on your face.

The very last thing he likes to hear is you challenging your love for him. It wipes every trace of lightness in the air; Tamsy makes sure to have you uncomfortable and squirmy for souring his mood… buttt you’ve gotten used to his moody antics and always use a quick little side comment to rile him up. Payback, it is.

You immediately scurry away from him and towards the bathroom door, feeling the sudden drop in temperature, but thin, yet solid, arms quickly cage you to his chest. 

They squeeze your soft sides, and you slowly crane your neck upwards with an innocent smile. His front pushes against your backside as he stares down at you from narrowed eyes, and his adorable nose.

“Don’t go leaving now. Say it again.”

You laugh, “I guess I like you.”

A hand slowly ghosts upwards, and his slightly damp fingers graze your chest. His hand cups one of your breasts, and you try to look away as his fingers slowly squeeze it. “Mmm... That isn’t what was said. Repeat it correctly.”

You look back up at him with a smile, and his gaze is still darkened, but his testing, faux smile is gracing his lips. Before you can respond, his thumb and index rub the nub beneath your shirt between his fingers–the clash of the harsh fabric of the shirt rubbing against it, along with his unmerciful movements. A puff of air is sucked into your nose at the action, and you cup the back of his hand from the mixture of pain and small inklings of delight sparking from the harsh touch.

“C’mon, that hurts. Let me just moisturize your face.”

He lowers his face and presses his chin atop your head, “Repeat what was said.” His finger then flicks the nub, sending a small shock to your system from the brief pain.

You jolt underneath him, finally correcting your statement, “I-I guess I love you…”

The tall male pauses his fingers, then cups both of your breasts. They overflow in his palms, and he looks over his nose with a delighted expression, “So you can listen.”

“Dude–“ You then immediately suck in a breath as his teeth unexpectedly bite, not nibble, bite on your ear. Thankfully, it wasn’t enough to pull a boxer’s move, but just enough to have you let out a gasp of pain.

“Who are you calling 'dude', hm?”

You grit your teeth and try to focus on the cool wetness still on your palm rather than the slow indent from his mouth. “Should I say bro then-ow!” 

His teeth grind more into the sensitive skin, and more pain throbs on the side of your head, but his hands moving on your chest, slowly groping the weight of your breasts, has you leaning more into him. His thumbs rub your nipples as they continue kneading your chest.

“Do it right.... Say it properly.”

You squirm with a smile, “Master?”

He immediately pulls his mouth away with a deadpan and stops kneading your chest. “Ew…” 

You instantly giggle and take it as a chance to turn around in his arms. The male’s expression doesn’t change as you take advantage of your opening, and his hands rest on your back as you face him. 

You finally swipe a portion of the moisturizer onto two fingers and rub it into his cheek first in circular motions to evenly distribute the product. “So prissy. How are you even a metal head?”

“How are you even handling one?”

You snort, “I like the juxtaposition of your home life and genuine interests,” you swipe another glob and rub it into the other cheek. He leans into your gentle motions as his eyes remain locked onto yours, his honeyed gaze, sweet smile, and round face all hypnotizing.

“Incubus, stop looking at me like that…” You apply the lotion to his forehead and chin with your two fingers. You rub it into his silky skin.

“That’s quite insulting.”

“You are one.”

He hums, his polite shadiness bleeding through the conversation, “I’m not a certain umbrella weirder.” 

You immediately laugh at the snide remark as you place your palms on his cheeks. He closes his eyes as you rub the remnants of the lotion into his skin, your fingers squishing his cheeks and pulling on his pretty face. Unnecessarily exaggerated with rubbing it into his skin, but he knows it’s you taking advantage of touching him again. 

“Finished.”

You pull your hands away, and he immediately reaches a hand behind his head. He pulls his thick strands free and floods of blond and navy overflow past his shoulders. The side of his face is obscured by the blond of his hair, and he slowly pulls it to the side with the back of his hand as he smiles, scarred side of his face and pretty eyes exposed once more.

You scoff. “You’re such a flirt.”

He tosses the scrunchies back onto the counter, “All I did was free my hair.”

“Doing it flirtingly. With your eyes and that face.”

His hands reach out towards you, and he places them on your waist. He tugs you towards him and squeezes you closely to his chest. The pretty man's head tilts downwards to meet your gaze better, and you’re both curtained by his two-toned hair.

His face is soft, both skin and expression, as your hands cup his cheeks. Your thumb momentarily brushes the cool metal under his lip, and his lips kiss the pad of your thumb, golden eyes holding court and keeping you stationed.

“…like, how can you deny being a flirt?”

His lips pull away from your thumb, and he bunts his forehead against yours.

“Perhaps this Incubus should use his powers now?”

“In what way?”

His fingers tap the counter of the sink, and you immediately try to tug away from him with a slow flush rising at his hinted implication. His hand presses more into your form as you try to tug yourself away more at his suggestion. 

“No. I don’t feel like cleaning the counter when we’re done because I barely finished brushing my teeth. We can fuck somewhere else, Tamsy.”

His hand reaches down to your thigh and slowly hooks the back of it, gradually propping the leg on the counter, “Then multitask.”

You snort and immediately hold onto the counter for balance, “Excuse me?”

“Brush your teeth now while I fuck you.”

“I am actually going to kill you.”

۶۟ৎ⠀ ⠀𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 . . . smut mdni, modern au, pet play / puppy play, p in v, collaring, leash tugging, no plot (kinda), breath control mention, dumbification, hitting, and d/s dynamic if you like squint lowkey, slight toxic tamsy, sadomasochism (?)

۶۟ৎ⠀ ⠀𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 . . . i lovelovelovelovelove tamsy with the idea of him having a pet just makes so much sense soo here you go and enjoy! lots of people requested this so hopefully this feeds yall (definitely won't be the last time i post this dynamic tho hehe) however, ty @girlwithoutajob for reminding me of this drabble i had for puppy play x tamsy muehehee. ENJOY ♡

tamsy never thought he would enjoy pulling you around on a leash. he saw it as quite a waste considering you could walk around yourself and that you could operate perfectly fine whilst following behind him like a lost puppy. and he was too busy to really care about you in some dog ears on a leash. he thought the pet-owner dynamic wasn't all that, but he entertained it just to grant you the smallest bit of enjoyment.

that was his mindest... until he heard you whine when he tugged you along the rough carpet of a rug in the living room. it caught him off guard at first, he had heard you whine before out of desperation but never out of discomfort. that's when he realized the true intention of this dynamic. it was all in a slight masochistic nature for you.

you liked the degradation of being demeaned to being treated like a dog. a mere pet for him. you knew he would enjoy it sooner rather than later, enjoy the power imbalance he had over you. enjoy the fact that he could control his puppy. so, when you let out that whine. he never stopped pulling you around everywhere. in fact he would be the first to suggest you to wear your collar and leash out on dates along with your ears, and tail if you were up for it.

god, he always looked so eager to hear you say yes to him.

“well you don't have to if you don't feel like it, pup,” he would always say at the end of asking, practically almost begging you to wear your collar. he knew it would get under your skin. would make you so willing and so eager to please him. that's your job as a pet, is it not?

and when you sweetly agree, his smile is one that does meet his eyes. something about that makes it more intimidating than when his smiles don't.

it wouldn't just be at outings though when he would suggest you to wear them. he would constantly check when you had the gear on and when you didn't. to the point it became routine for you to just automatically wear it after breakfast. he would make sure to tug a few times before he left for work. sometimes even ask for picture updates while away to see you in your collar.

and you being you, sometimes you would even send videos of you tugging yourself around. today, one of the videos you sent you happened to let out a small cough, admitting to choking yourself accidentally.

when tamsy opened the video, his cock twitched in his slacks. he rewatched it a couple times, taking a while to message you back because he kept replaying the way you coughed. obsessively waiting for it every time he replayed the video.

you wondered if you had done something wrong, he never usually takes this long to respond. you nervously start tapping away at your keyboard before you see his bubbles appear.

‘do it again.’ the text read.

you quickly asked what he meant. ‘do what again?’

however before you could ask for specifics, he quickly sent; ‘actually, don't. wait until i am home.’ and so you waited.

you were sitting on the couch in the living room, minding your business. then the familiar jingle of keys was heard unlocking the door. you perked up, making your way over to the door. you carefully descended onto your knees, your hands resting carefully in your lap.

tamsy entered, his expression quite serious until his eyes fixed onto you. “somepuppy was waiting for me again, hm?” his tone was as teasing as always. it had that softness though that made you feel immediately safe around him.

you simply nodded, waiting for his command to speak and for him to motion you to stand. it was a silent thing you two agreed upon, not needing a big conversation about it.

“stand up.” his voice was firm but still soft, that light and airy tone that made you listen immediately. he watched you rise to your feet, hands coming to his shoulders.

your hands reached out to help him discard his coat and get comfortable for his return home. as you did his hand snuck up to your leash, tugging you even closer to him. however, it was harsh. the tug made your balance unstable, and a small strangled sound escaped your lips. you went to say something but the pressure on each side of your throat didn't let up.

tamsy's grip didn't let up either. he wrapped the excess leash around the back of his hand, tugging again. it was slowly removing the airflow from your throat. your hands landed on his wrist, eyes wide and scared as you stared up at him. but a slight rush of excitement travelled down your spine.

tamsy leaned down, a large smile displayed on his lips. his lips brushed against your ear for a split second before they grazed the side of your face and down to your jaw. he placed a soft pattern of kisses along your jaw and then lower. “i missed you today, pup.”

you again wanted to say something but every word got caught right in your throat, but its not like he allowed you to speak yet anyway. until he finally eased up his grip, smiling. “you may speak now.” you gasped for air immediately, small coughs escaping. you blinked a few times, adjusting your gaze. “i missed you, sir.” you replied, your hands slowly dropping from his wrist.

tamsy pulled back slightly, his gaze unwavering as he watched your reactions. he brought his free hand up to your cheek, stroking it softly. you leaned into his touch with ease which made him let out a soft sigh, one that was almost amazed by how much you trusted him. this whole dynamic was built on that. trust. he tugged you closer again, his lips ghosting over your own. he almost closed the gap but slightly pulled back, only to be a tease.

you looked up at him through your eyelashes, whining a little. not the whine of discomfort, but of desperation. both made him react.

he let out a small groan upon hearing you whine before he closed the gap, pushing his lips against yours. the feeling of your soft lips meshing with his almost sent him in an early frenzy. but he quickly calmed himself. being gentle with you at first, keeping you tame in his control for now. the first couple of kisses with him were always soft. he was gentle when it mattered to be. occasionally it felt calculated, like he wanted to manipulate your trust in him to see how much he could bend the boundaries.

but maybe you were making things up? who knows?

you were the one to break apart the kiss, resting your forehead against his. “was today a long day, sir?” asking innocently like you didn't know where the conversation would exactly lead to. a small smile crept up onto your face which gave you away so quickly.

tamsy gave in however, and played your game. he sighed softly and nodded. his free hand slid down your body carefully until it cupped your hip. “such a long day, cleaning up people's messes is never easy you know.” he hummed.

“surely it can't be that hard.” you giggled, leaning in to kiss him again. by happenstance your fake tail was on and happily wagging due to the motion sensors. as you and tamsy share a much more desperate kiss than before.

the next leading events get very much blurred with time. your bodies make it towards the bedroom, the foreplay lasting quite a while. at first it was just grinding against each other, swearing that will fix the ache. then the both of you claimed your hands slipped into each others bottoms but they were in the way anyways.

now you were straddling him, hands splayed across his chest and your cunt sweetly gripping onto his cock. you slowly slid up before sinking yourself right back down, nudging him all the way in to the hilt. your head lulled back, pleasure spreading through you. you could feel his hands holding your waist tightly, his fingers pressing hard enough to leave bruises.

knowing his sick and twisted mind he loves the idea of bruising his puppygirl up, marking her in one way out of many others. his hips started to thrust upward slowly into you, a grunt slipping out from him. “such a needy girl, leaking all over her owners' cock like this. making such a mess.” he purred, emphasizing his words with slightly harsher thrusts.

you gasped, your nails digging into his chest. your hips started to bounce on their own, riding him properly now. your lips fell open as you drooled on yourself, moans coming from your throat when you least expected them to.

tamsy paused on his thrusts, using his hands to guide you to ride him. he started to move you against him at a faster pace, moaning as he felt you clench around him every time he got all the way, buried deep inside of you. his eyes never left your figure. watching your tits bounce, the way your thighs trembled, the way the little ears you wore bounced in your hair. he loved it. he loved breaking his pup down to nothing but being cock drunk.

one of his hands slid off your waist before he twisted the leash around his hand, tugging you down harshly, coming face to face with him. he pulled on it tighter, watching you eyes flutter once again before he eased up his grip. hearing you gasp in between broken moans made him twitch. he couldn't resist but thrusting into you again but at a much more relentless pace. “good puppies can handle anything right? are you a good puppy? c'mon⎯say it. tell me⎯mnfh. that you're a good puppy.”

your eyes were wide and practically rolled back, your cunt gushing around him now. you barely could even say anything without it turning into incoherent moans. especially not when he was fucking up into you like this. your hands moved and gripped onto his hair, sobs of pleasure escaping you instead. “mmph⎯ah⎯tamsy!” is all you could get out.

the longer you took the more tamsy got impatient. his hand still on your waist moved down and slapped your ass harshly. “dumb pup can't even speak properly to her owner, hm?” his tone was so mocking it sent a rush right down to your core. he tugged on the leash once again, making your moans get caught in your throat.

swiftly, his hand travelled up to your face, holding your cheek before landing a slap across it. he felt the area he just hit warm up from the stinging sensation before he slapped you again. he loved watching your face contort from a state of pleasure to trying to differentiate the pain. a sly smirk was displayed across his face as he took one good look at your face.

teary eyed, drooly lips, and that little pout. the truest part that made you his puppy. not the gear, not the dynamic. but the way you looked at him. he couldn't get enough of it, of you. he wanted to frame that exact look in his mind.

the way your skin met his due to his pace filled the room, he never paused and never faltered. he was so consistent that you could barely take it. your mind was fuzzy trying to focus on all the different stimulations going on around your body. your eyes could barely stay open and focus on him, his dick was absolutely breaking you down into nothing but mush. and then that tightness started to build in your gut.

“ohh fuck! close⎯ngh!” you cried out, your fingers tangling more and more into his hair, desperate to get as close as you could possible to him. you felt his harsh breaths and grunts vibrate against your ears but fan across your neck, the desperation was clear in the both of you that you guys had been close.

tamsy's hands came up to the sides of your face, holding you right above his, foreheads rested together now. “cum for me, make a mess all over my cock.” he talked you through it, your walls fluttering every thrust around him. his teeth dug into his tongue as he moaned hushed.

your gasps and sobs were short every couple of seconds, eyes open and staring into tamsy's. the eye contact was so strong and it was intimate the way he was whispering through gritted teeth, helping get you there. and you did. your back arched, chest pressing against his, thighs squeezing at his sides. “c-cumming!” you cried, head dropping into the crook of his neck as you rode out your high.

his thrusts slowed only a tad, wanting every last bit of cum to drip from your cunt onto his cock. he felt his own orgasm approach before he quickly pulled himself out, dick twitching along the curve of your ass and cum landing on your lower back. his body trembled as he breathed heavily into your hair, his orgasm subsiding slowly.

your body slumped against his and you carefully remove the clipped in dog ears, setting them beside you. the tail didn't survive and it came off with your clothes earlier. the leash though remained. your hand traced down tamsy's chest, a low hum leaving your lips as you watched him calm down. his breathing matching with yours.

“did that make your day a little better?” you asked to which now he hummed.

“of course it did. you always know how to make me feel good, pup.” he chuckled, leaning down and pressing a kiss on your lips, soft compared to the rough sex you both just had. his fingers spun the leash around one another, softly pulling to get a good look at your collar. it had the words ‘tamsy's pup’ on it, the gray and blue aesthetics matching nicely with the gray leash.

it was a true branding to know that you are his. you'll always be his puppy, yet he couldn't wait to dumb you down even more until you were nothing but that. a dumb little follower of his, a dumb pet that never dared to question him. this was more than a dynamic to him, it was a lifestyle he was going to make sure to follow through.

۶۟ৎ⠀ ⠀𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 . . . mdni, fem reader, stalkerish behavior, masturbation mention, age gap briefly will be mentioned, tamsy is like 51 btw for these specific headcanons, sleeper build tamsy mention, second person pov, no use of y/n, i pictured reader to be in her 20’s, lengthy headcanons oops, not proofread.

۶۟ৎ⠀ ⠀𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 . . . first post yay! these are just how i see tamsy for this trope / au and this of course will be a little ooc but i tried to keep it as accurate as possible. please know that i do not condone any of these actions in real life in unconsensual instances. this is strictly a fantasy poured into my fiction, i do not condone actual stalking unbeknownst to anybody and or creepy behavior towards anybody.

creepy older bf!tamsy that looks lanky with his oversized clothes and silverfox looking hair but he still of course keeps the navy blue peekaboo under layer but his build is slowly growing more reformed. a sleeper build to keep it simple, his muscles only showing when he's working out. he works out quite a lot to mainly stay healthy and mobile for his age. (totally not in case he needs to chase or hurt anyone! he probably would have a couple tattoos as well to make up for half of his body absolutely scarred but i will leave that to your guys imagination.)

creepy older bf!tamsy that met you in a small liquor shop, you happened to be in front of the champagne he was trying to get and his eyes never left you after that. his eyes sparkled just a tad, like he had just found a piece of treasure in front of him. those few moments of listening to you shuffle around and pick the one you wanted, his brain was slowly tickingm it never stopped ticking as he got older, in fact it got worse the less company he had around him... and it had been awhile since he ever felt drawn to anyone. you just had this way about you that intrigued him. he wasn't sure if it was the simple smile on your face when you turned and walked past him or if it was the buzzing scent of vanilla ice cream radiating from your perfume; either way, he knew he had to have you.

creepy older bf!tamsy who overheard you whilst in line, talking on the phone with a friend about a birthday party of some sorts. that was when he heard you spew the words “do i have old taste for a 21 year old? im getting champagne of all things,”. he was a little shocked, he knew you had to be younger than him but almost 30 years apart? he noted that information mentally.

creepy older bf!tamsy stalking you slowly but surely. after seeing you in that liquor store, he took note of the type of car you drove and even the little keychain you had hanging from your rearview mirror. and then when you started to drive off he took a glance at your license plate not expecting to memorize it.

creepy older bf!tamsy following the route he saw you take when he too left the liquor store and fortunately for him the traffic was backed up and now he was a lane over from where you were. he could see just a bit through the window, seeing how you sat, how you mumbled things to yourself, seeing how blissfully unaware you were of his presence.

creepy older bf!tamsy that followed your car practically all the way home, not too close but never far. he acted like he was driving in the neighborhood and going a complete different way after you parked at your house. as you were getting out you saw the car slowly pass by and your heart dropped a little. but slight relief settled when you saw him turn down another street and didn't spin back around.

creepy older bf!tamsy that slowly started to appear everywhere you did. first it started with a very local coffee shop, he was behind you in line and claimed to have recognized you, you had a small conversation with him about how the shop was recently opened before going on about your day. that interaction replayed in his head for hours since then. but then next he showed up at the clothing mall near your house, and then even the restaurant that you were at with your family, sitting by himself at a solo booth and eating the same dish you ordered for yourself.

creepy older bf!tamsy who knew his presence was invading but he couldn't get enough. when he knew you were aware of him now it honestly spurred him on more. that night after the restaurant he parked near your house and watched you through the window. the way you would slip on your pajamas made him to eager. he just kept wanting more and more. he wanted to be closer, to see it for himself.

creepy older bf!tamsy started sneaking into your house while you were gone. he loved rummaging through your clothes and specifically stealing your panties and babydoll dresses. he would exit your house with pockets full. some to jerk off with and some to stay neatly folded in drawers next to his to feel like you lived with him. he would always leave your room exactly how you left it when you were gone. however, everytime you came back there was something just... off.

creepy older bf!tamsy spending hours and hours at home whether when working from home or up until right before he is about to leave to go somewhere, he is always touching himself to your scent, covering one pair of panties with cum while smelling another pair.

creepy older bf!tamsy leaving gifts outside your front door for you like bouquets of flowers and boxes of luxuries. it unsettled you though because it felt wrong, it didn't feel like an admirer it felt like a stalker. which it was, yet you always accepted the gifts. how could you not? they were always so pretty and always matched your sense of style.

creepy older bf!tamsy who never once showed up to your door but you knew it was him. you knew since that unsettling gaze he had at the coffee shop and when he followed you to dinner. he was always there, always watching. you couldn't tell if you hated it or... if a part of you, a sick and twisted part of you enjoyed being paid attention to.

i quite like this guy (alt ver under cut)

tamsy caines x female! poc! reader

you just wants to take her scheduled mid day nap but lacks the noise she needs to drift off. tamsy comes just to soothe you.

[ regular au, fluff, slight yandere themes, tamsy is in love with you in his own way, tamsy and you have a history, slightly toxic, unestablished relationship?, !POSSIBLY ooc!, tamsy calls you angel, not proofread ]

word count: 949

while there’s crows outside cawing and some noise, there’s no noise downstairs.

none of that whistling and wooing, yelling, and whatnot that you’d typically hear. it’s irritating you.

you’re in your room currently trying to sleep. keyword, trying. you can’t fall asleep to the quiet.

you groan and whine in annoyance.

you’ve practically given up on trying at this point. your mid day nap is just gonna have to wait.

you slam your head down in frustration. when you’re not paying attention, the door to your room cracks open slightly.

whoever it is was trying to be quiet but unfortunately, due to its older hinges, the door squeaks catching your attention.

“who is that?”

“don’t be so hostile, it’s me.”

you recognize that soft tone. it’s tamsy.

“oh. you’re back from your mission.”

“yes and i assumed you’d be asleep by now. don’t you have a mid day nap?”

“it’s too quiet.”

“figured.”

“what were you trying to sneak in here for?”

tamsy steps in and shuts the door behind him. despite knowing you’re already/(still) awake, he’s doing his best to be quiet. he approaches your bedside.

“can’t i just visit my favorite cleaner?”

“am i really your favorite?” you joke tiredly.

“of course you are.”

“heh.. i don’t know if people usually inflict pain on the ones they love.”

it’s a small joke about your past with tamsy. he goes quiet with reception, and you figure he didn’t appreciate that too much.

“joking, joking,” you say to reel the man back in.

“hilarious.” he says plainly.

you roll over on your back, clutching the previously over your head pillow to your chest, to make room for tamsy to sit.

he does calmly, ultimately deciding not to take your dark joke seriously.

“anyways, what did you actually come in here for?”

“i know you’re feeling restless since no one’s here.”

“‘m flattered you know me so well~”

“of course i do.”

“you wanna serve me some background noise until i pass out?”

“if that’s what you’d like.”

your cheeks plump up with the small smile across your face.

you’re content in tamsy’s lap. you even find it comfier than your own bed.

the side of your face pressed against the edge of his thigh giving you the perfect angle to be below tamsy and stare up at him.

he’s such a beautiful man from below, you wonder how tamsy lucked out with his genes. there isn’t a single time where tamsy looks bad to you. call that opinion a result of your adoration or devotion, who knows.

“you’re staring quite a lot, hm?”

“caught me. i’m admiring your face is all.”

“the one you see everyday?”

“is that a crime?”

“no, of course not, do it to your heart's desire.”

“honestly, what would make this sight better would be if you had hair down all the way.”

“my hair down? angel, you know that only happens privately.”

“we have a decent amount of privacy here.”

“you shouldn’t tempt me.”

you hum in acceptance. “it’s up to you. i wanna go to bedd~”

you rub your face into tamsy’s leg. thankfully he’s not ticklish through the fabric of his clothing so he doesn’t throw you off.

instead he just watches you.

his deadpan stare leaves everything to the imagination. you aren’t looking through his eyes but even if you tried, you wouldn’t be able to know what he’s thinking.

he could be irritated with your actions. happy. plotting to do something toward you, good or bad. spacing out. hell, he could even not even be thinking about you or the position he’s in right now and could be thinking about something entirely different.

who knows? clearly you don’t.

what tamsy will tell you is limited. even if he trusts you enough (which is already a lot) to be his true sadistic self around you, he won’t share what he genuinely thinks when he sees you.

in no way are his thoughts bad though.

the creepily smug look that tamsy has on his face is proof.

looking at you, tamsy’s mind runs wild.

in this very moment, his feelings for you are strong.

feelings of pride mixed with pure love take precedence. lust and sadistic urges lay somewhere behind.

this sight of you just laying here, in his lap, in his control is just very appealing.

quietly entrusting him with your body and mind, letting whatever happens next with you two in this room be determined by tamsy himself.

tamsy wouldn’t do anything to hurt you. not in this moment. in prior moments that was not true. initially, his intentions with you only fulfilled his sadistic urges.

that isn’t the same case now. not after tamsy came to realize how much you and him were alike. and how much he loved you.

you understand him better than anyone else. like you always say, it takes one to know one. tamsy’s sure that same logic would apply if you saw the look currently upon his face.

but you can’t. not while you’re sound asleep in his lap, breathing and snoring softly.

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.