Tags: tamsy caines/gn!reader, no use of y/n, manga spoilers!!, fluff, spice, implied/referenced sexual themes, tension, shitty writing
a/n will be at the bottom :)
(all images on banner found on pinterest)
Lunch was always such a hassle for you. Nothing wrong with the lunchroom or the other Cleaners, or the concept in general, it just felt like a whole lot of effort most of the time, given that when you were off, other Cleaners and Supporters seemed to always be on missions, but whenever you were on missions, everyone else seemed to be off. How unlucky.
Semiu thought that you were lucky having so much alone time, and that you were deemed skilled enough to be sent out on missions alone, to which her words hold a truth to them, but that didn’t make you any less bored of the silent halls and stale air between you and the empty seat across from you.
“You look like a bit of a loser at the moment” a familiar voice pulls you from your self-pity and you glance up from the sandwich sitting on your plate to see who’s speaking. Tamsy Caines stands before you, an amused smirk sitting on his annoyingly pretty face. You’re surprised to see him here, usually he’s on missions or generally just not around you.
Unfortunately you had developed a little thing for the mysterious man.
“I feel like a bit of a loser at the moment” You chuckle lightly, glancing away from him when he makes eye contact with you, focusing back on your sandwich. To your surprise, he sits at the seat across from you, resting his arms on the table and glancing around the empty lunchroom.
“I can’t exactly blame you, this place is just depressing” He murmurs, gazing around once more before his eyes land on the sandwich you have. “Mind if I have the other half?” He asks casually, as if this is a common occurrence. You’re very briefly dumbfounded until you remember people talking about similar things that happened to them. That’s just Tamsy – apparently.
You blink at him before sliding your plate towards him. “Oh, yeah. Go ahead” you say, your voice slightly too nervous and shaky for your liking. Stupid nerves.
Tamsy takes the untouched half of your sandwich with a grateful nod, watching as you avoid eye contact with him and shift nervously in your seat. Cute. He finds your nerves entertaining, even if it is just your natural demeanour. He’s surprised he hasn’t talked to you outside of group settings before, you seem like someone he wouldn’t mind conversing with.
Not that he really has any use for you, which is likely why he’s never spoken to you.
“Pray tell” Tamsy begins, his voice causing you to focus on him instead of your usual fleeting gaze. “Why are you not… on a mission, or something of the sort? I understand I am not either, but you seem… accustomed to this routine” he observes thoughtfully, wiping some dressing from his bottom lip with his thumb. Your eyes follow his movements carefully. Are you just observant like himself, or is there more to it?
“I get missions almost every day” you tell him easily, shrugging as you finish the last of your food, resting your folded arms on the table. “I’m just always finished by lunch. They only send me, sometimes one or two Supporters if needed but only for the difficult or sketchy missions.”
The air hangs quiet for a moment as Tamsy takes in your words. You speak so easily, despite your skittish demeanour, as if you’re just waiting to be talked to. Needing to be talked to. You’re a lot more interesting than he initially thought.
“So you’re quite skilled with your Vital Instrument then?” He asks, eyes fixed on your face in that intentionally unnerving way, however, the way your eyes light up when he asks his question completely cancels out the way his gaze pierces into your soul.
You begin talking about your Vital Instrument, explaining its technique and relation to you, enjoying the attention somebody is actually putting into you and the genuine look of interest in his eyes. You ramble for a while too long, eventually catching yourself when you notice the clock on the wall. “Oh lord… have I really been talking for almost an hour? I’m so sorry! You should’ve said something!” You begin to apologize profusely, quickly adapting that timid persona again, shoulders slumping as if you are trying to shrink yourself.
Tamsy shakes his head, holding up his hands in a placating way, chuckling smoothly. “Nonsense, I was quite enjoying the passion behind your words. I have a fondness for passionate people like myself and you seem to fit that description perfectly” he soothes, a smile sitting gently on his face, eyes staring deeply into your own. “If anything, I should apologize for not realising such a fact sooner! I’m embarrassed by my own lack of perception.”
His words work exactly as he needed them to, and he is being truthful in them. He’d wished he had seen what an interesting person you seem to be sooner, but later is better than never, right? And with such an interesting and powerful Vital Instrument, too? You prove to be more and more useful to him by the second.
You sigh heavily, scratching the back of your neck with a sheepish chuckle, a slightly flustered haze in the way you glance around. Adorable. “I’m glad I didn’t completely bore you, then” You say, unsure with your response but not wanting to leave the room silent.
Tamsy just smiles, eyes closing with the expression, his head tilting slightly. “We should chat more often” he stands from the table, voice light and cheery. “Don’t be afraid to come find me, by the way. I'd hate to always come searching for you, now” he teases lightheartedly, offering a friendly wave through the oversized sleeve of his Cleaners uniform before turning and departing the lunchroom, leaving you more than a little confused, and slightly flustered.
You had completely misjudged Tamsy! He’s so nice and friendly! And here you were intimidated by his mysterious nature, how silly of you!
You leave the lunchroom and head to your bedroom, almost giddy after the encounter. Finally, somebody who seems to want to be your friend. You can’t stop grinning.
Some pessimistic part of you thought that Tamsy was just being nice, and that you weren’t actually going to talk again, but this wasn’t the case. In fact, you guys ended up talking much more than Tamsy himself had initially assumed.
You gained confidence in the friendship rather quickly, and he only had to seek you out a mere few times before you started finding him first. How perfect. You were following the steps of his plan so perfectly he could almost cry.
During your conversations, Tamsy couldn’t help but notice the smaller details in your mannerisms, the flutter of your eyelashes when you got confused, the crinkle in your brow when you were annoyed, or the way you twisted the ring around your middle finger with your thumb. He found these things intriguing, and a part of him wanted to figure out why you did these things. Was it a habit? Restlessness? General unease?
Wanting to figure out what made you tick was crucial to his great plan, and he would do anything he could to figure these things out, even if it meant leading you on. Which wasn’t preferred, but possible if necessary.
“I wonder if people on the Sphere ever feel like this” You sigh heavily during one of your conversations one day. The both of you are seated in the library, reading your own respectable books. Being in the presence of one another but not engaging in overt conversation was a favoured activity by the both of you.
“Do you intend on indulging me in the feelings you are referring to or am I supposed to guess?” Tamsy responds in his usual teasing way, glancing up from his own book in your direction, watching the way you slump against the couch and exhale with a kind of defeat.
“Boredom” You reply, resting the open book on your chest and rubbing your face with one hand. “But like… extreme boredom. Like the realisation that all I’m going to do for the rest of my life is fight trash beasts, maybe raiders, eat lunch alone, and grow old and eventually die one day kind of boredom” you explain, throwing your hands up in exasperation. “Unless I get killed earlier, of course.”
Tamsy is actually kind of taken back by this sudden comment, hesitating on his next words momentarily before speaking up. “Existentialism? I’d imagine everyone experiences that in one way or another, even people on the Sphere,” he replies, his tone rather lacking in sarcasm for once. “I didn’t really think you were one for existentialism, my dear.”
The nickname you’ve gained never fails to fluster you a bit, but you’ve learned to play it off quite well. “Neither did I” you grumble in response, closing your book and resting it on the coffee table in front of the couch. “Maybe I need to find something to spice up my life or just something out of this dreadful routine I've gotten used to.”
Tamsy just hums, flipping the page of his book, one of his legs crossed over the other as he leans against the armrest of the couch.
“I wish dating was easier” You exhale heavily, picking at the chipped nail polish, chipping at it even further. Your words make Tamsy perk up a little, an unusual distaste setting on his tongue as his brows furrow slightly.
“Date?” He chuckles lowly, glancing from the book briefly to watch you sulk. “Your thought process never fails to astonish me. How does one go from nearing an existential crisis to complaining about the Grounds terrible dating pool?”
You roll your eyes, sinking into the couch. “It makes sense to me–! Actually, y’know what? Nevermind, it’s nothing.” Waving your hand dismissively, huffing a stray bit of hair out of your face.
Tamsy reciprocates with an eyeroll of his own, snickering at your display of exasperation. “Oh, come on now. You know what I meant to say,” He nudges your knee with his own, prompting you to keep complaining in your annoyingly endearing way. He looks down towards your pathetically slumped figure, his milky saturn eyes travel the expanse of your body, leaving you feeling like you’re being examined on a petri-dish.
“Sit up, it’s bad for your back.” He grumbles, eyes narrowing in on your face, focusing very intensely to avoid his gaze falling back to your thighs in such an obvious matter. That would be very unlike him, and he can’t afford any slip ups. “It’d be a shame for you to die because your back was tweaked during a mission. Certainly not something memorable.”
Rolling your eyes, you adjust your seating to keep him from making another comment. With a satisfied hum, he turns his gaze away from you, clasping his hands together. “If you’re lonely in a romantic sense, why don’t you go out with me?” Tamsy asks, though it comes across more as an obvious statement. Like he’s confused on why you didn’t think of him as an option yet.
The bluntness flusters you, cheeks warming uncomfortably. Why hadn’t you thought of him? Was it because you thought he wouldn’t be interested? Likely. He’s never seemed to be the romantically inclined type, honestly.
“Uh…” You stammer, staring at him dumbly. Is this a joke? You really can’t tell yet.
As if reading your mind, he cuts your stupid stammering off. “I’m being serious. If that is what is causing you to gape your mouth at me.” He exhales sharply, pinching the bridge of his nose.
Finally finding some words, you speak up again. “I’m not.. Completely against that idea.” You murmur, staring at the space between you both on the couch, the creases of leather suddenly very fascinating.
“Do we have to talk about this right here though? I know it’s late, but I’d rather go somewhere more private” You add, casting a nervous glance over your shoulder. Tamsy nods in agreement, standing up quickly and offering you a hand, which you take gratefully. You follow beside him to his quarters silently, stewing over the conversation you just had.
Looking over at him, you see him once again in the light you did when he first arrived, the nervous and unsure excitement that comes with a crush rushes back as you witness him for the first time all over again. Long, two-toned hair, half clipped up messily, as it normally is when he isn’t on missions, caramel coloured eyelashes framing his deep, swirling eyes, a flurry of beige and white, his lips beautifully accented with the silver ball of the piercing below his bottom lip. Even the scar that runs along the side of his face seems to be perfectly tailored to him, just as the rest of his features are. His skin seems so soft and the constant waft of gourmand sweetness only adds to his gentle allure.
The fluorescent lights of the HQ hallways even manage to fall along his figure perfectly, casting an almost angelic image to the man before you.
“Come now,” His gentle voice pulls you from your transfixed haze. Blinking quickly, you follow him into his room, ignoring the quiet chuckle he gives towards your previous staring. “Make yourself comfortable,” Tamsy nods towards his neatly made bed, gesturing for you to sit.
Sitting down, you take in the clean, neat organisation of his room. You had expected nothing less. The room, rather empty for someone who has been working with the Cleaners for so long, still manages to capture his persona effortlessly.
“Uhm..” You clear your throat, adjusting your seating to face him a little better. “As I said, I’m not against the idea… I’m just..” Your eyes dart around the room, struggling to keep eye contact with him.
You don’t even really notice him getting closer to you until the scent of salted caramel overwhelms your senses, eyes focusing on his slowly approaching face. “You’re just what..?” He whispers, voice taking on a slight raspiness as he looks at you through half-lidded, predatory eyes.
It suddenly becomes very clear what sort of tension has been building between the both of you all these weeks spent together, and the fact you had been oblivious to it until this very second.
Breath hitching in your throat, the room grows thicker with an increasing heat emanating off the both of you. Heart beating loudly in your ears, any words you had been hoping to say dissolve on your tongue, replaced by the sticky sweetness of the desire you feel.
Sensing this realisation you’ve come to, Tamsy gives your arm a small tug, bringing your mouth against his, reveling in the warmth it brings and the quick inhale of surprise you make the second your lips brush.
Eyes closing, your hand slides up to the back of his head, gently grasping onto the silky strands, holding his mouth against yours while his hand slides up to your waist pulling you closer than before.
His tongue slides along the seam of your lips until they part enough for him to go further, resisting the urge to shudder at the small sound of pleasure you make in response. He knows he’s enjoying this far more than he should, but he’s more than happy to indulge in this feeling for a while longer.
Feeling your hands start to explore a little more, he gently pulls from you, eyes searching your own for a moment while you pant, out of breath.
“Getting rather bold, are we?” Tamsy teases you between his own heavy breaths, smirking as your face flushes. “Do you really want to go further, my dear?” He asks, thumb brushing under the skin of your shirt slowly, testing the waters.
You nod, holding his gaze with a confident look of your own. “I want to.”
Satisfied with this response, he leans in again, kissing you again but with more intention behind it. He knows where he wants this to lead and he will ensure it gets there.
a/n: woah holy shit im alive guys! i got a rq for something tamsy related a while ago and im sosososososo sorry i havent been able to respond, lifes been kicking my ass lately and i havent had the energy or motivation to write at all.
nonetheless, i have not abandoned this blog!
also, idk if you can tell but i started writing towards smut at the end, then realised i cant write smut to save my life, so i cut it a bit early. if i somehow manage to write sum ill repost the story :p
