“𝐦𝐨𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐲”
a/n: i want tamsy caines.
i know damn well what he does in the manga since i’ve picked it up, but i STILL can’t hate him UGHHHHH I NEED HELP 😭 CAN WE AGREE HE’S WELL-WRITTEN THO???
also, do i condone pulling hair? no.
did i write it anyway? absolutely.
edit: i made a pt. 2 bc people were asking 😭
you’ve been dancing around tamsy caines for weeks.
and by dancing, i mean snapping at each other like feral cats trapped in the same alley.
every mission it’s the same. he’s too reckless. you’re too careful. he moves before thinking, you think before moving. he calls you annoying. you call him an idiot. neither of you ever actually leave the other’s side, though. funny how that works.
everyone notices it.
enjin once mutters something about “sexual tension ya could cut with a knife,” and tamsy immediately tells him to shut up while you pretend not to hear it, heat crawling up your neck.
the thing is – tamsy looks at you like he’s constantly holding himself back. like he’s biting down on words he doesn’t want to say, like his jaw is always tight when you’re around. like you’re a problem he can’t solve by using his tokushin.
which, honestly? terrifies him.
the mission goes sideways. of course it does.
you’re covered in grime, adrenaline still buzzing under your skin, lungs burning as you finally make it back to a half-collapsed building to regroup. the others scatter, loud and chaotic, leaving you alone with him in the dim quiet.
bad idea.
tamsy turns on you the second the noise fades.
“you didn’t follow the plan,” he snaps.
you scoff. “i saved your ass.”
“i didn’t need saving.”
“yeah? then why were you two seconds from getting crushed?”
his eyes flash, sharp and furious – and not all of it is about the mission. you’ve known that for a while. he steps closer, towering just enough to be annoying, presence overwhelming in the way only he can manage.
“you don’t get to decide that for me,” he says lowly.
you tilt your chin up, refusing to back down. “someone has to, since you don’t care if you get yourself killed.”
that does it.
something in him snaps – not loud, not explosive. quiet. dangerous. the air between you tightens like a pulled wire. his hand slams against the wall beside your head, not touching you, but close enough that you feel the vibration in your bones.
“you think i don’t care?” he mutters.
your heart is pounding now, not from the mission. your voice comes out softer despite yourself. “you don’t act like it.”
for a second, he just stares at you. really looks. like he’s memorizing your face, like he’s deciding something irreversible.
then he kisses you.
it’s not gentle. it’s not sweet. it’s all pent-up frustration and unspoken tension, mouths colliding like you’ve both been waiting for permission that never came. you gasp into it, fingers fisting in his coat without thinking, pulling him closer like you’re afraid he’ll disappear if you don’t.
he makes a low sound in his throat – surprised, wrecked – and suddenly his hand is in your hair, gripping tight at the roots. it’s not enough to hurt, but it’s enough to make your breath stutter, enough to send heat straight down your spine.
“shit,” he mutters against your lips, like he didn’t mean to do that. like he absolutely did.
you kiss him back harder, all sharp edges and reckless emotion, weeks of tension bleeding out in messy, desperate movements. he crowds you against the wall, forehead pressed to yours when you finally break apart, both of you breathing like you just ran another fight.
his grip loosens, thumb brushing your jaw like he’s grounding himself.
“… we’re gonna talk about this,” he says, voice rough.
you laugh breathlessly. “yeah. later.”
for once, he doesn’t argue.
he just leans back in, slower this time, like he’s finally stopped running from it – and maybe from you.
and honestly?
about damn time.
© 𝐤𝐱𝐬𝐚𝐠𝐢
a/n #2: anything for angie pookie <3
