Saw an ad on my way home from work today. "Hire A Hubby". Disappointed to report that it is a home maintenance service and not a service which provides you with a hired himbo to stare at for a while :(
i cant for the life of me get my own brain juices going so--tamsy x ftm reader w cannibalistic tones/"i would crawl into your skin" type vibes. if this isn't detailed enough im sowwy im half asleep rn </3
PARASITIC
╰┈➤ tamsy caines x ftm reader ੈ
warnings: creepy af tamsy, non-sexual knifeplay, gore, tied-up, dissection, freak4freak, vivisection, death
A/N: wouldn’t recommend holding my hand it’s constantly sweaty. i appreciate the sentiment however
tamsy caines is not a person who fits the description of ‘normal.’ reserved, sadistic, scheming- not traits you’d generally want in a mutual relationship. you, however, are also not a normal person.
raised in graffiti town after being tossed out by your parents, you made a living stealing and reselling high-value trash. the only item to your name was your mothers wedding ring, a dented platinum thing given to you before she died.
having heard tell of a faction called “the cleaners” and their vital instruments, you had poured as much love as you could into that stupid ring, hoping one day, you’d get out of this shithole. you wore in on a necklace so it could be close to you at all times, clutching it close on bad days.
nothing ever happened though. so you moved on.
eventually, you grew up, keeping the wedding ring on its chain as a reminder of your dreams but settling down as a freestyle graffiti artist.
sometime, though, that had changed.
a man with long blonde hair and piercing blue eyes had walked into your store and never really left. his presence was more common than his absence, always lingering in the back of your mind.
“don’t fuck with my display,” you’d bark, and he’d just shrug with a foxy smile. you’d glare, and he’d cover his mouth with his sleeve to hide a laugh.
“you’re cute when you’re angry,” he’d tease, dodging a tin can thrush his way.
you couldn’t pinpoint the exact moment he had settled under your skin, a constant, itching presence. maybe it was when he started existing in your store rather than visiting. how his banter was missed more than it agitated.
somehow, it ended with his arms around yours in the early morning, legs intertwined and faces red from the heat. dust rattles against the windows, the radio blathering about some impending sandstorm. it all registers as static in your brain, slipping away like soup in a slotted spoon.
tamsy traces lazy patterns on your skin, eyes focused intently on the rise and fall of your chest. you shrivel under his gaze, and he laughs, throaty and humming.
“i want to try something different,” he whispers into your ear, running a finger across the apex of your shoulder. you nod, leaning into the touch.
“shoot.”
“i want to tie you up and cut you open.”
you breath lodged in your throat, trying to process his words. you didn’t necessarily want to be cut open like meat on a butchers slab, but also… it’d probably be really hot.
“okay,” you sigh, lazing off the bed as you stretch. when you turn, tamsy’s vital instrument is already in his hand, eyeing you intently. it’s almost.. predatory, his gaze taking in every part of your body. covered in bites and love marks, possession more than emotion.
he helps you to the floor after much lamenting about getting blood from the sheets. the corded ropes of tokushin burning against your skin as they tie your limbs taught against your body, thighs tucked close and arms stiff against your side.
“be gentle, tamsy,” you chide, and he tsks, kneeling in front of you. his index finger lifts your chin so you meet his eyes, a scalpel blade resting against his palm. “don’t be snippy with the one holding the blade.”
rolling your eyes as tamsy straddles himself on top of you, letting your body rest against the floor and his thighs cradle your navel. the blade of the scalpel brushes your sternum, making you breath sharply.
tamsy presses the finger holding the scalpel to your lips, a drop of your blood landing on your tongue. “shh,” he whispers, “let me work.”
nodding as much as you can manage, tamsy resumes; scalpel sinking deeper into your skin. you cry, torso on fire from the pain. blood seeps in rivulets down your stomach, pooling at your thighs and under your shoulders.
tamsy’s hand dig into you- hot bolts of fiery pain that make tears gather in your eyes. it sprays in bursts, landing on your face in gory spatters. you can feel him inside you, raw and visceral and wrong. a choking sensation with no oxygen to spare.
the pain is horrible, white bolts of agony making your vision swim and nausea gather at your throat. you swear he hooks a finger against your ribs, tugging slightly and making you cry in pain.
your sobbing now, his fingers groping in your chest cavity. everything hurts, you can feel nothing but the awful warmth of you and him and oh god it hurts-
the world goes quiet, hearing turning to ringing and vision narrowing into nothing. you hear frantic calls of your name, but it’s far, far off in the distance, something echo-y and incomprehensible to your pain-addled brain.
everything goes dark as a single tear lands on your cheek.
you die with your heart still grasped in his hand.
The concept of trusting someone enough to let them dig around inside of me... Only for that trust to be so clearly misplaced and lead to a tragic but somehow still romantic twisted end... Delectable
Maybe you guys have been working together for a long time. Hell maybe you joined up around the same time. So of course he's seen your ups and downs. But still he's always seen you as an absolute unstoppable force. Always admired you. Always loved you. He was kind of like a puppy. Clinging to your side. It was easy to assume that maybe it was just his sense of camaraderie even if it seemed more extreme with you.
Of course he never confessed, admitted it or did anything about his feelings. No. He was happy to just watch... Just witness the wonderful force that is you.
Watching you tear through the battlefield... That was enough. Blood smeared across your features. A sight which should be sickening. Frightening. But instead he finds beauty in all you do. The blood is never your own of course... Until the day it is.
Until you get injured. Nothing too major, not to you of course. Just a few days, maybe a couple of weeks, of bed rest and you'll be back on the field. But to him... Suddenly his unstoppable deity has been hurt! He's suddenly faced with the idea of your mortality... And he can't bear the idea of a world without your light. He can't stand the idea of you being harmed and taken away from him.
It breaks his heart. But he knows it has to be done. He has no choice. He has to make sure you can never return to the line of fire. Never be put in danger again.
So he has several plans. First he tries to pull some strings. Ask higher ups to put you on indefinite leave. Even tries to just have you outright discharged for every possible reason he can find. Going so far to try and frame you for things so you would be dishonourably discharged. Yet somehow his plans don't work.
So... He gets more extreme. Eventually ending up with an "accident" on the field. It was torturous to him to need to go to such extremes ... To hurt his one and only light? The purest being of all? But it's necessary. Sure, maybe it'll be torture for you. To suddenly feel like you can't serve your purpose... Suddenly be unable to do what you've been so good at for so long. But can't you see ... It's better now!
All you have to do is stay at home. A nice little place you share deep in the isolated woods (he tells you it's because you just aren't suited for civilian life anymore). Just let him come back home to you to keep you company! Help you do all the things you can't anymore.
Of course you're upset at first... But can't you see that so is he!? It breaks his heart that you both won't be able to enjoy missions anymore! Can't you see he's probably even more upset than you are!? He doesn't get to watch your incredible work anymore! Deprived of witnessing your greatness... But it's ok! You get to be safe now! Nothing can hurt you! I mean at the end of it all he's suffering more! He doesn't get your company any more! Doesn't get to witness you at your best! But it's ok! He isn't mad at you. No no no! He could never be mad at you. If anything he's grateful that he gets to take care of you! It's such an honour!
Now perhaps, if you behave, he'll allow some "enrichment". Reenacting some of your field missions by giving you some chances to "escape". Of course despite what you initially might think, it actually is all very well planned and thought out by him. There's never any true danger. No he'd never allow that!
Now the type of "enrichment" obviously depends on the status of your captivity. If you're oblivious then he is sure to never let you know that he's behind these things. Leading you to believe that instead those attacking you are enemy soldiers who somehow managed to track you down for some kind of revenge. They'll break into your place, "try" to kill you. None of it will be too obvious. Always pulling punches but only enough to make it seem like they're just stupid or weak. Not knowing how to properly take down an enemy of your calibre. Sometimes he'll arrive suddenly to help! Other times he's "away on a mission" and gets back a day or two after to "nurse you back to health" after the ordeal. Always stressing that you "shouldn't exert yourself" and fussing over the old injury which lead to you being unable to serve anymore.
If you're aware of your status as a captive however then there's two options.
Option one, you're willing. Sure maybe you're not happy about being held captive by him but you don't exactly try to escape. In which case, similar to when you're oblivious, he will stage some break ins, a few random attacks and similar things. Just to help keep you occupied and "entertained" as he would put it. In this case he uses these to manipulate you further as well. Always letting them be just a bit harsher to try and convince you that you just aren't fit for the world nor the force anymore. Always stressing the fact that there are bad people after you. That your injury means you just can't do what you used to anymore! (Even if he's the reason for that... Even if you should be still capable of at least some of what you used to be... But he's been drugging you to keep you weaker...)
Option two! You actively try to escape? Oh well this might just be his favourite! He gets to be the one to hunt you down! He gets to be the source of your entertainment! He spends weeks setting up traps in the woods. Subtly "forgetting" to lock the door some nights. Or saying he's going to be on a "long mission" when in reality he's just camping out in the woods, waiting for you to try and leave. Once you do? Then the hunt is on. It's just like the old days. He's watching you from afar as you try to sneak through the woods. Try to make your way to civilization. It depends on the day. On how willing he is to let you have "fun". To "share" you. But just like the other scenarios he might just get a few people to pretend to be guards. Have them try to stop you. Just so he can witness you in full glory again. Let you feel the adrenaline rush once more. But of course all good things must end. So eventually the trap closes around you. Whether he takes you on head on. A one on one fight. Or if he simply uses some kind of tranquilizer from afar. The truth of it is... You'll never escape. But hey! Wasn't it fun!? Didn't it make you think of old times!? Oh he's so happy to get to have seen you in action again! Aren't you happy too!?
Not even realising he has feelings for you until suddenly you mention going on a date and he's all like "you're admitting to cheating right to my face...?" With the same expression as always. And you're just like... Huh??? We're dating!?
Or or or!!!
Not having a single clue who this guy is. He always keeps to himself. You notice him around every now and then sure, but you don't ever realise he's actually always around... Problems are solved before you even knew there was one. It must be a complete coincidence that suddenly when you started to notice the same man around your life just got easier... Right?
Every time he interacts with you, you assume that he doesn't know anything about you, that he doesn't *feel* anything about you... But of course you're completely wrong. He just doesn't express his emotions. But he would do absolutely anything to ensure you live a safe, long and relaxing life.
Work gets too stressful? Suddenly your boss isn't on your ass as much and your workload is reduced...
Financial struggles? Suddenly you're getting a pay rise without even needing to put in extra hours! Or getting a bonus. Or hell! You even suddenly win some kind of gift voucher for your favourite shops just for being such a loyal customer!?
Though you do start to notice people distancing themselves from you... Even your friends start to stop inviting you to things. You used to go out drinking a lot? Or simply just make bad decisions when around them? Well in his mind they were horrible influences. Drinking so much is bad for you. He can't keep scaring off everyone who even glances your way when you're out drinking. He hates to see you get all *touchy* with other people just because you're drunk...
Maybe he'd slowly integrate himself into the friend group. Try being the "voice of reason". You don't really remember who he befriended first or who introduced him... You just remember one day he was there like he always had been. You could've sworn he wasn't around for that inside joke, yet he nods along as if he understands perfectly.
His eyes are always searching your expression. Making sure you're comfortable. But of course whenever you look at him you just assume he's being calculating as always. He comes off as cold but based on how he always seems to remember things about you, surely he isn't actually cold. He's just bad at expressing how much he cares. You know that he actually does though. Why else would he hang around so much? Why else would he always make sure you're ok? Why else would he know so much?
Of course you don't realise he doesn't allow anyone else so much space in his mind... All the random facts he seems to know? He only knows because they're relevant to you. Why he's always hanging with the friend group? Well it's simple. Because he cares about *you* of course. So if for now he has to share your precious time with those who don't deserve it... Fine he will. For now.
Now of course when one day things start showing up on your doorstep... Things you mentioned wanting once or twice in private... You're scared. But you assume it's a prank. Your friends maybe sending you an early birthday present? Now when they deny it... You're a bit more concerned. Double checking your bank accounts to make sure you didn't accidentally buy it for yourself. But of course. Everything seems... Fine. Just as perfect as always actually. But the perfection is what starts to slowly feel so off...
Your friends always seem to have troubles. But you can't even recall the last time your boss got mad at you. They start needing to work more often. Leaving you to just hang out with cold Yan instead. Which is fine. But still... You miss your friends.
But he lets you speak about whatever you want. Calmly encourages you to complain, rant, just say whatever you need to. He actually makes you feel *heard*! He's just such a great listener!
Now of course you start to feel a bit depressed when all your friends seem to avoid you. Coworkers never going out of their way to speak anymore. So maybe you stop cooking for yourself so often. Make less "healthy" choices. But no fear! Suddenly cold Yan seems to be showing up at your door any time you don't feel like cooking. It's like he just knows when you're feeling bad! Showing up with everything he needs to make your favourite dishes. Who would've guessed he knew exactly how to make your favourite curry just like the place you remember when you were young!? And when you mention how it's so similar he just nods. A very faint smirk at the corner of his lips. "Of course. I had to make sure it was just how you like it. So I called up the place and requested the recipe." Now of course you don't remember ever mentioning the name of the place... Or where you grew up... But you must've! Right...?
Slowly but surely... He will worm his way into your life. Into your heart. Until finally you can't imagine a life without him. Until finally he is as vital to your survival as you are to his.
He just needs to be patient... Even if it's getting so difficult...
Need a feral, scary wolf boy so I can pamper and train him into being a pathetic mutt for me and me alone. Show him the wonders of some sweet words. How delightful it can be to allow himself to be small, even when he fights back and tries to scare me off. Treating him like a pathetic puppy even though he's "totally capable" of caring for himself (poor thing... We both know your tail wags at the thought of a head pat or finally being called a "good boy" for scaring everyone away instead of being scolded for his rude behaviour)
And so I can let him go absolutely feral on me as a reward whenever he's been particularly good...
“Haha remember when murder-hornets were gonna be a thing? What a nothingburger.”
Yes, because the Washington state government activated like a sleeper-cell and ruthlessly, systematically hunted them down and annihilated them.
“Y2K came to nothing amirite?”
Yes because an army of software engineers working around the clock, losing sleep, and busting ass till the last minute prevented it from happening.
“Remember the hole in the ozone layer?”
You mean the one that was fixed through rigorous world wide government action?
One of the root problems of our society is a refusal or inability by media to articulate that all those “it’s gonna be an apocalypse” disasters were not disasters because we collectively did something about them.
The good news is this is actually quite correctable. I maintain my firm belief that we as humans are capable of solving almost all of our problems, when we decide to do so.
And I still think that’s going to happen. I don’t know when or how, but I do know that abandoning hope won’t help bring it about.
And I refuse to let the cynics own a chunk of my heart.
The type of yandere who has no problems scaring off others away from their Darling wether it be threats or getting their hands dirty, yet becomes a nervous mess when their Darling is around. (Even if they don't show it on the outside.)
The type of yandere who'd get turned on from their Darling's smell alone.
The type of yandere who'd have no issues getting on their knees for their Darling to show how much they love them.
The type of yandere who cries while having the most gentle sex ever with their Darling because it just feels too good.
The type of yandere who comes across as intimidating and cold towards others but becomes a needy mess the second they find themselves alone with their Darling.
The type of yandere who gets all giddy and warm after their Darling gives them the smallest attention.
The type of yandere who becomes the most clingy person ever after finally getting their hands on their Darling.
The type of yandere who's so lovesick that even if they invented some sort of medicine to try and tone it down, it just wouldn't be enough.
I mean nothing (and I mean NOTHING!!) is more attractive to me than someone crying during sex because it just feels so good! Like that is sososo fucking hot to me! Like huh!? What do you mean you're so obsessed with me and so fucking lost in the bliss that you're literally crying!? That you're willing to just become so pathetic for me to swoon over?!?!
Because while everyone else flirted loudly, chased clumsily, and burned out quickly… he just stayed. In the same spots. With the same heavy-lidded stare. Like a cat that decided you were its human three weeks ago and saw no reason to announce it.
The first time you caught him, he didn’t even flinch.
“…you’ve been following me,” you said.
“…yeah.”
“Seriously, you won't even try to deny that?”
“…too much effort.”
You should’ve walked away.
Instead, your absolutely unhinged brain went: finally, someone interesting.
The real confirmation came later.
Not from anything dramatic, but from a pattern that was just off.
Your water bottle started appearing filled even when you forgot. Your notes got rearranged into neat piles you definitely didn’t make.
You cornered him about it.
“Are you touching my stuff?”
“…sometimes.”
“Why only sometimes?”
“…I get tired.”
You stared at him.
“…you’re selectively obsessive?”
“…I prioritize.”
You laughed. You shouldn’t have. That was the exact moment you confirmed your freaks in front of him
You wanted him to snap.
That’s the embarrassing truth.
You wanted the dramatic version. The locked doors, the possessive words, the undeniable proof that you mattered enough to be wanted that badly. Perhaps the guy who flirted with you to have broken bones or something.
So when he finally invited you over, you walked in like someone about to watch a long-awaited performance.
The door shut behind you.
He stood there.
You stood there.
Silence stretched.
“…are you buffering?” you snapped.
"No"
“Then do something.”
“…like what?”
Your eye twitched.
“The kidnapping? The threatening monologue? The bare minimum??”
“Oh.”
He turned, shuffled to the door, and locked it.
Click.
“There.”
You stared at him like you were reconsidering your entire life.
“That’s it?”
“…yeah.”
“You didn’t even look at me when you said it!”
“…I’m looking now.”
“YOU LOOK HALF DEAD!”
“…I’m trying.”
Still, you stayed. Like he had the potential he just needed some pushing and perhaps a bit of exercise to fix lazy habits.
And then there was the basement.
He showed it to you like it was a proud art project.
“I made this.”
You walked in, heart racing in excitement expecting horror.
Instead you find soft lighting, clean floors, absurdly comfortable blankets stacked like a luxury hotel.
You pressed one.
“…this is nicer than my bed.”
“…yeah.”
“This would not even feel like kidnapping, everything here looks so.....comfortable??”
“Yeah it really is.”
You narrowed your eyes.
"Did you test this?”
“…slept here.”
You let out a sigh
“Of course you did.”
One evening, you decided to escalate things yourself.
You stood up abruptly.
“I’m leaving.”
“…okay.”
You paused.
“…that’s it?”
“…you’ll come back.”
“NO I WON’T??”
You marched to the door.
Grabbed the handle.
It didn’t move.
You froze.
Slowly turned.
"You locked it.”
“Yeah.”
“When??”
“The moment you entered.”
You blinked.
“…you predicted my dramatic exit?”
“You do it a lot.”
You opened your mouth to say something buy closed it due to the embarrassment you felt on being called out like that, then you opened it again to loudly announce
“I hate you.”
You go sit beside him as he automatically leans against you in a comfortable position, ready to take nap as you continue.
“You’re seriously so disappointing.”
“…mm.”
“I expected chaos, proper stalking, to be kidnapped and confined for the rest of my life"
I'm so embarrassingly obsessed with this idea!! Like holy fuck the concept makes me so feral. Like it's the perfect excuse for a bratty reader/darling!?!
"show me you actually love me or I swear to god I'm leaving!"
"... Ok...? I'll see you later I guess...?"
"I'm never coming back!"
And yet always returning... Cause maybe he sent a quick message while you were on your way home and you stopped by the shops...
"don't forget to buy yourself (insert that drink you like)... You're all out."
And that's all it takes... Cause he knows your favourite drink and he knows that you don't have any left! Something you didn't even remember! Which means that he does care! And he knows exactly what's in your home!
I can give it all to you, little one. Safety when you've only known fear. A place to be soft when you've had to remain tough through it all. I can adore every scar that's on your skin or in your mind and handle any bratty attitude or ounce of anger that hides in your voice.
need to wrap my hands around someone's throat while I ride them. I want to just squeeze and watch their eyes roll back while the only thing they can do is buck up into me.
especially if they hold my wrists or forearms, keeping me from pulling away and the only sounds they can get out are broken moans and gasps.
I want to feel them cum inside me as they get closer and closer to passing out, and I would just let go barely long enough for them to breath before going back to choking them, repeating it until I'm finished with them.
blakekathryn
prguitarman
