Tamaki In My Clothes (3)

my fave arrancars back on screen in 2024 !!!

I still think it’s hilarious that the remaining population of notable arrancar in Hueco Mundo is just a bunch of lesbians and also Grimmjow.

thinking about boob man tamaki…

The door creaked softly behind Tamaki as he let it fall shut behind him, the sound barely audible over the gentle hum of the stove and the aroma of simmering soup. He was home earlier than usual from his patrols, and he could tell you hadn't noticed his arrival. He had been looking forward to this moment all day, wanting nothing more to wrapped in your arms.

As he walked into the kitchen, he was hit by the warm and cozy atmosphere. You stood at the stove, your hips swaying gently as you hummed and stirred the soup with a wooden spoon. Your hair was tied back in a loose bun, eyes were fixed on the pot with a focused expression. You were completely absorbed in the task at hand, oblivious to his presence.

Tamaki couldn't help but smile at how cute you looked. He quietly approached you, his footsteps muffled by the soft carpet. As he reached your side, he pressed his body against yours, his hands snaking up to mold your breasts. You didn't flinch or react, too engrossed in cooking dinner to notice his sudden proximity.

"I'm home, momma," Tamaki whispered into your neck, his voice tired and husky from the day's patrol. You put the lid back on the pot, your movements slow and deliberate. "How was my baby's day?" you asked softly, feeling his warm breath fan your neck.

Tamaki's hands tightened their grip on your chest, as if he was reluctant to let go. "It was good," he admitted,"I missed you, a lot." He buried his face in your neck, his nose twitching as he breathed in the scent of your perfume.

You smiled to yourself, feeling a warmth spread through your chest. You reached out and took a spoon from the drawer, holding it out to Tamaki with a gentle smile. "I'm making Ojingeo-guk for dinner," you said lightly. "Want a taste?" You asked, noticing how his eyes lit up at the prospect of food.

Tamaki nodded eagerly, his mouth watering at the thought of the spicy soup. He took the spoon from you and dipped it into the pot, savoring the rich taste in his mouth.

"I think it needs a bit more salt," he said, his voice tinged with a hopeful tone.

"Got it, sweetie," you purred, grabbing the salt shaker and giving him a sly smile. His knees always grew weak when you called him that. He couldn't help but nuzzle his head into you neck, his warm breath sending shivers down your spine.

“missed you today," he whispered yet again, his voice laced with longing, as if he expected you to notice the obvious erection pressing against the curve of your back. His words were accompanied by a gentle rocking motion, as if he was trying to convey his emotions without being too obvious.

You chuckled lightly, amused by his antics. "I can tell," you said, playfully teasing him. "I bet you want a bath huh?" The suggestion was met with a nod, his ears flushing with embarrassment as his grip on you tightened.

Been thinking about writing a fic for 7E staff Tamaki who slowwlyy catches feelings for a college student reader who happens to be a regular there,,,

isn't your cat love your clothes?

🎁

pairing: mydei x reader genre: fluff fluff wc. 253 a/n: hihi lovelies! ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡ this is inspo from game of thrones! that one line from "“you have no right to a braid, you’ve won no victories yet.” anyways enjoying reading hopefully i get to post more abt him soon <3

victory.

a word he knows all too well. it is etched into his bones from years of battle and carved into his skin. the braid in his hair once symbolized triumph, a warrior’s mark earned through sacrifice, pain, and relentless perseverance. 

but those years of battles are over. the battles have quieted. the meaning of his braids has changed.

tiny hands reach up to his hair. his daughters stand on either side of him as he sits patiently, their little brows furrowed in concentration, tongues peeking out in focus. they giggle whenever the strands slip loose and cheer each other on to finish. 

he sits still, his heart full, letting them weave as they please. determination. he wonders if they get it from you or him. they are quite determined to make it as pretty as his braid but he reassures them that his braids will be nowhere as pretty as theirs.

mydei has fought many battles. he has claimed countless victories. but no victory can compare to this. waking up to the soft golden morning beside you, holding you close as the sound of his children's bubbling laughter echoes through the castle halls grow closer and closer before they tumble into bed with you both.

he would stand against the world, if it meant he could cherish more moments like these with his girls. these braids, woven by his daughter, are a sign of victory— a victory greater than any he has ever won in battle.

he has won in life itself.

BLORBOS (˵ •̀ ᴗ - ˵ ) ✧

i'm not really in the mood of finishing anything so i give you the only thing i can my babies