#.the wife guy!! <3< /div> Explore tagged Tumblr posts

[eraserbread]

Sigh, thinking about Husband!Nanami coming home after work to his sweet wife and just being overwhelmed by his love for her. Cuteness aggression turned sexual? Because what reason does his wife need to have such an amazing smile if not for him to kiss her lips, both sets while he's at it!

...need i say more? nanami just loves his old lady.

➽─────────────────────────────❥

you tried out a new recipe, today. ken's a cookie guy - of course, he is. so, today decorated prettily on a plate he bought you, was a glazed ginger miso cookie. you spent hours perfecting the recipe, throwing out lots of expensive, unsavory doughs, and pining over flavor combinations before you landed on your jackpot.

then you waited for him at home, wrapped in a pretty lace apron that he bought you. for some reason, you were an especially good mood this morning - you had chatted on the phone with a friend for hours, received a surprise text from your perfect husband, and got to open another of his gifts that was painted on your lips.

a new, glimmering shade of lipgloss he so politely asked you to wear for him.

he comes home right at 6:30, spending time at the lock to allude you to his forthcoming arrival. work today had been especially annoying because there were no missions. he just went on a few training ones as a favor to satoru, but didn't break a sweat on the grade-4's he took care of.

all he thought to keep himself motivated was the feeling of seeing your soft, bright smile again. it was hard to leave your smaller, sleeping figure this morning, but he had to. he had to miss you sometimes to keep him excited.

so, he's so damn happy to see your stupidly beautiful face when he pulls the door open. you're waiting for him like a puppy, crossed hands and smiling so big, it renders him motionless upon impact.

"well, aren't you just the cutest?"

"i made you cookies!" you know to keep your voice soft for him after work, but your excitement is tangible. you don't typically bake for him, so when you do, he loves it. "don't worry, I made you actual food, too."

nanami stares at you for a moment, nose picking up on the delicious mix of scents filling his well-kept home. god, he wants to eat you alive.

he still finds time to pull his tie down when he approaches you, both hands reaching for you. you giggle when he captures your cheeks, squeezing them hard, and pulling you into a single, deliberate kiss.

"i just love you."

you two end up sharing a cookie, leaning over the countertop and feeding small, broken-off pieces between each others lips. ken focuses on the glisten of yours as you chew sweetly, making no sounds but a content hum. it makes him crazy - his stomach coils.

"i know this is so lewd, but I think I need you to sit on my face."

he's right. it's lewd - he's witness to all the chewed-up cookie in your mouth when your jaw drops.

but, you let him. no questions asked.

ken lays on his back in bed, already flushed to his neck and licking over his lips. he watches as you shimmy off your pants, under special request to keep the apron on. he just wants access to what's between your thighs, and he didn't make that vague.

you look at him for a second, suddenly conscious and slightly wary of his ability to breathe. he's given you oral countless times, but never like this. "ken, are you sur-

he fucking sighs and sits up, yanking you forward with a gentle, dominant hold on your ringed hand. "you think I can't handle my wife sitting on me?" you join him on the bed, crawling into a straddle so you two can kiss for a moment. he pets at your cheek, humming as he takes in your taste. green tea and ginger miso - what a palate.

but it maddens him even further. he needs you dripping on his tongue - there was no polite way to say it. he would not be polite when he eats you alive.

so, he sits back again, pulling you with him so you don't have a choice but to follow. with sexed eyes, he begs. "please, nanami baby."

that's what gets you this time. you take a breath and crawl up his body, holding it as you hover over his face. his big hands help you along, squeezing into your thighs and guiding you into the perfect position.

you reach down to tangle his messy golden hair between your fingers, giving him a look that kills him. he can't help that whenever you give him a look so pure and sweet, he has to squeeze you a bit harder.

"just follow my lead. pretend like you're humpin' my thigh, baby."

"mm, okay." still highly suspicious, but kinda turned on now, you nod. then, he guides your thighs down until you're fully seated over his head - all of your weight focused there. upon impact, he fucking groans and it sends a tsunami of vibrations through your eager cunt.

you bite down a moan. "ken-

as soon as you say his name, he's digging his fingers deeper and begins eating you alive, just like he wanted. one of his flexed, scratching hands slide against your back, urging you to ride him -- to actually treat him like a coined pony. so, you do... it's so unfamiliar and you're terrified of hurting him, but his thick tongue felt so good and so right smushed against your sensitive clit, that you needed to chase some friction.

he's vocal like you've never heard him before, obscene slurps and moans spilling out from between your thighs as he devours you. on every back thrust, his nose buries itself into your clit, forcing a cry from your throat. it was so overwhelmingly good - you felt him everywhere like your nerves were standing on end.

you cum for the first time embarrassingly fast, crying his name and unable to move, so he drags you through it. it's only on the break he gives you to even out that you see that crazy look in his eyes.

his entire face is soaked in... everything. you, him, more of him, and more of you. so erotic and messy, you hardly get to see him so spent with a ruby-red face and blown pupils.

so pretty...

"i should stop, but 's so addicting."

"no." you're breathless and halfway to death. "no, keep going I'm fine."

"i know you're sensitive." somewhere behind the mania, you can make out a bit of that husbandly worry. you admit that he has much better stamina, but with him doing most of the work, the only thing you have to control is not cumming everywhere all the time.

"keep going." you demand a bit too harshly, tugging his hair as you grind back down on his tongue. you can feel him chuckle against your messy cunt, but doesn't need to be told twice to swallow you again.

you two go on for hours until kento feels like he's going to pass out. these pants are nothing but trash now that he's came untouched. it's a spectacle you only notice when he flips you over to finally lay it down.

he peels off his pants with a wrecked face, tongue slipping from his lips every so often to catch another taste. his briefs are sticking to his skin, stained darker around his cock and unmistakable. you try so hard not to point it out, because you know he's embarrassed, but you can't not breathe out a chuckle.

"when did yo-

"shut up." he decides before fucking you into the bed for hours. no mercy, he's unrestrained and drunk completely off of your deep, familiar taste.

and when he leans down to kiss and love you after it's all said and done, you can taste the ghost of yourself over his lips, and push him to go wash off.

he does, but you catch him letting his tongue linger over his lips until he finally gives in and runs his face underwater.

[bravo666]

mdni • price x f!reader

captain price has a ritual and his men know better than to disturb. every time 141 gets back from an op and rumbles back to hereford, they unload, debrief, file the necessary reports and then some, all that dreary bureaucracy that needs to be done within the first couple hours of touching back onto english soil. and then, at the first opportunity, he fucks off. captain’s privilege, he says.

the others do too—on the town or to the bunks or to their own flats or wherever—but price never joins them. he has his own destination in mind and it’s a solo journey, so quit nosing about trying to find out, sergeant. he’s only ever gone for a few hours, six at the most, before he rolls on back to base, squares his shoulders, and throws himself back into work. at least he always seems a bit lighter when he comes back.

said destination is a pub not one, not two, but three villages over. the further from base, the less likely it is for him to run into one of his men, and he’d just hate it if that happened, would feel like a dog dragging mud in through the garden door, crossing his wires. he might not like it about himself, but john price is a greedy and selfish man, and the pretty little thing that’s been tending bar for the past few years is a morsel that he wants to keep all to himself, cradled in his jaw and savored.

the dingy pub is nondescript and uncreative, a local establishment that’s been around since anyone can remember and hadn’t changed a whit. price found the place back when he was first made captain and started looking for further out watering holes, looking for some peace and quiet away from the places where the recruits drank. he almost wrote the place off his lists of spots before he saw the flustered young bartender duck in for her shift.

since then, he’s been a regular—for a given value of ‘regular’, as much as a military man can be—ever since. started swapping conversation after the third or fourth visit. polite conversation turned friendly, then raucous with laughter, then warm and teasing.

that’s as far as he let’s it go, naturally. with a job like his, he’s married to his work; there’s no room, no time in his life for a sweet little wife, no matter what he dreams at night with his cock fisted in his grip or whose face he happens to see play the role. he tried the whole wife thing once, chased after it, even, and all price has to show for it is an alimony payment set to automatically go out every month.

(his ex-wife couldn’t handle him in the end. she was the type of woman who needed him at every hour to keep her love alive and couldn’t stomach the weeks alone while he was deployed, and even when price was home, she didn’t have an appetite to match his when he slipped himself off his leash. they both jumped into it without looking ahead. such is life.)

so he ignored the hungry need for a woman beside him, and even if he ever did go down that route again, it couldn’t be her. she’s young and bright and untouched by blood. playful flirting and occasional brushes of fingers hovered somewhere plausibly deniable as a service worker buttering up a favorite patron, or—and price only lets this thought loose for a moment before snatching it and shoving it down with a growl—a friend. he’s gone half the year anyway, or something like it. every time he comes, he carries the irrational, ugly fear that in she’s moved on, moved out, got a new job, left the country, got married—

when he shoulders through the door now, sawdust sticking to his boots, his girl’s—because that’s what she is, even if it’s only the sight of her that he lets himself claim and hoard—wiping down glasses behind the sill, the pub just about empty as all the old timers went home. his first thought is that she’s still there, thank god. his second’s that she’s changed up her hair. it looks good. price pointedly ignores the way the sight of her with her new hair and those pretty lips makes him chub up a little.

his girl’s eyes crinkle a little when she looks up toward the door. “john,” she says warmly, and before he’s even seated at his usual spot on the bar, she’s filling him up his favorite pint. “how are you doing, handsome? just got back from saving the world?”

a snarling, hungry, traitorous part of his brain tells him that his wife is being so good, keeping him fed and watered, and the only thing next on her wifely duties is to keep his balls drained. he tells it to go stuff itself.

“still working on it, sweetheart,” price says with a sip. maybe it was worth it, when she asked a while ago why he showed up so irregularly, to tell her that he was SAS, if only for the way she called it after. saving the world. that’d be nice.

this time, though, he notices something else that’s new besides the hairstyle, and it makes his beer taste like dust in his mouth. a glint in the light, on his girl’s left hand.

not really his girl anymore, is she?

price swallows down his mouthful and tries to quell the sudden heat that rises in his veins, a raging anger that feels, inexplicably, like he’s been stolen from. his molars clench together for dear life as he rearranges, tames, quiets himself. it was fine. it was fine! she’s just his bartender, is all. his friend. modern country and whatever, she could go meet whoever, get engaged to whoever, fuck whoever, and if she was happy, then—then price would have to be happy for her.

(she better be happy, he thinks. if whatever little boy she’s found isn’t making her feel like a bloody princess every god damn day then he doesn’t deserve the fingers he touches her with or the cock between his legs—)

this was good, even. with a ring on her finger, price’d always have a reminder that pretty girls didn’t owe him anything, don’t belong to him like a dog with a bone. kill the fantasy, keep his head on the missions. a better soldier. it’s that tightening thought that lets him calm himself enough to say “congratulations are in order, i assume?”

his gi—the—she furrows her brow in confusion, but she follows price’s gaze—how could she not, with him practically burning a hole in her finger with his stare—and laughs. “oh, that,” she says, easy as ever. “no, nothing’s happened.” she wiggles the ring off her finger and sliding it across the counter to price for his inspection.

under his touch, the tell is obvious: it’s plastic, cheap, almost gummy plastic. the faux diamond is cheap acrylic, only close to sparkling because she’s gone through and polished it up. it takes him a moment before he puts it together, but before he does, he briefly becomes so angry that he thinks he might actually kill a civilian for treating her this way.

“bought that online for five quid,” she keeps going. “just to stop some of the patrons from asking questions, or flirting, or, you know, trying to introduce me to their nephews and that kind of thing.”

a decoy ring. a dummy, a shield, something with no actual suitor attached to the other end. price is so relieved that he can feel every muscle in his aching body untense, and it pisses him off because he knows he shouldn’t care this much about his friend’s love life. “smart,” he says, his voice a bit thick before he clears it. “smart. though, you know, sweetheart, you could always try telling them you’re not interested.”

“please, john, you think i haven’t tried?” she shrugs. “no, most of them don’t listen without seeing a little proof that that seat is taken. always thought they could convince me otherwise. the ring shuts up most of them, and the few that still don’t get the hint, i end up having to tell them stories about ‘my husband’ before they piss off.”

the word husband coming from her mouth makes something rumble in price’s chest that’s becoming dangerously difficult to ignore. he tries a chuckle, tries to focus on the feeling of his beard bristling his own cheeks and not the way they would feel against hers, and tries to lighten the mood. “so, what, you just make up stories about this husband of yours? grand tales of romance?”

but she looks away, and—is his girl flustered? she picks up a rag in her hands and starts wiping idly at the counter, like she’s trying to avoid his eyes. “oh, you know,” she says. “i keep it simple. just enough to, er, get them to stop, and consistent, so they can’t pick holes. he’s—he’s in the military. leads a team.”

then, quietly, “he’s out there saving the world.”

the dog slips his leash.

when price finally leaves to make the long drive back to base, his shirt rumpled and his chin wet with slick, he keeps the plastic ring in his back pocket, not bothering to give it back. why would he? she doesn’t need it anymore, because he’s going to buy his girl the real diamonds that she deserves.

[zer0expektation]

The (almost) Perfect Assistant

[c3realkilluhz]

-

[ouroborosreilig]

ok tumblr can also have this chilchuck i drew overtop some image of a random guy

[kidicaruslover911]

fictional or not i love women and i might just perish if i don’t get to kiss one right now.

“wowzerz😰” i say wishing upon a star.

[rainbow-sunshine-unicorn]

Season 2

Kate: I’m leaving for India

Anthony: And it is not far enough

Season 3

Kate: I’m leaving for India

Anthony: And I’m going with her, ciao and toodles

[marciaillust]

I added some colours to her :)

[captain-hawks]

meian shugo is a relatively private man. with no personal social media accounts to his name, his presence on the internet starts and ends with msby's publicity.

his teammates know him as their captain. they know his leadership style and his tactics on the court. they know his favorite post-game izakaya and that he's a morning person. the rest of his life remains a mystery to the jackals.

—but everyone on the team knows that he's married.

there's a thick gold band that rests on his ring finger, methodically threaded onto the chain around his neck and tucked beneath his jersey in the locker room before each game.

atsumu catches him smiling down at his phone sometimes, lower lip tucked between his teeth in a boyish way they've never seen on the court.

bokuto swears there's always a hint of floral perfume that clings to meian's jacket before he shrugs it off.

hinata caught him buying flowers once—a enormous bouquet of roses.

and it's this one morsel of knowledge that has them all staring dumbfounded after a game as they catch their captain chatting with a journalist.

you're leaning into him as you giggle at something he says, and he doesn't pull away. he nudges one of your heels with his sneaker, one finger reaching out to hook on the camera strap that hangs around your neck. there's a pencil tucked behind your ear, and he plucks it out, grabbing the notebook in your hands and writing something down on one of its pages. you laugh again.

atsumu gapes. hinata and bokuto exchange alarmed glances. because yes, you're beautiful, and they'd all probably be tripping over themselves if you were interviewing and flirting with them, but—

"i wasn't expecting that," hinata blinks.

"they look a little...friendly," atsumu comments carefully, unable to look away as meian drags a hand through his sweaty hair and mirrors your smile.

sakusa's unimpressed voice suddenly interrupts their spectating, "i would hope so, considering the fact that she's his wife."

[localsamalicer]

The Distortion

[shepscapades]

Had to do a little doodle of the purple panda skins >:]

[oggieoligy-blog]

Teehee- no, I shan’t giggle. Not in front of the homies 👀

your husband, nanami, finally gives you the one thing you've been pining over

➽────────────────────────❥

nanami spoils you rotten. he's starting to see that, now.

you wanted a house? a week later he slid the deed to you over dinner.

that new egregiously priced sectional you've been eyeing? add to cart.

there was only one thing he fought you on.

"i'm sorry - just couldn't help but notice." ken walks into the bedroom where you're relaxing on your side of the bed, new fiction book in hand that you only just picked up. "is this your birth control? it was in the trash can..."

"oh." you reply haphazardly, flipping to page 28. "my doctor and I decided we'd take a few months off the daily's until my hormones even out."

poor kento - he has no idea what you're talking about, but he knows you never told him anything about hormones. "yes, I understand." no, he doesn't. "but what about contraception?"

"we'll be fine for a few weeks." you turn to the next page, deciding it being better not seeing his face right now. you wouldn't be fine - in fact, you're ovulating.

but, is it such a crime to have a baby with your extremely well-off, generous, yet supremely stubborn husband? the way he's acting, you would think so.

"i'm just supposed to not lay hands on you for a few weeks?"

"if that's what you feel like, yeah."

"hey." he suddenly crowds you, standing at your side of the bed and pushing your book down. "I don't like the nonchalant."

"just wear a condom, nanami." you flick his big hand away from your book, content just to rile him up a bit before accepting defeat.

you know what you're doing.

"nana..." he's repeating his name -- a name you never called him unless you were serious. "I'll give you time by yourself to cool off." he's at that tempered-state right before his self-control shatters; all he needed was another push.

"lock it behind you?"

"why do you need to lock the door?" you can see it as he faces your back to you, heading to give you some space before he's stopped by your words. this is a home of open doors- even if you're using the bathroom. it's a bit insulting that you'd want to lock the bedroom one now.

a flick of the finger finds you at page 30, and you smile as your main character is taunted and poked. " oh, nothing. just thought i'd try this new toy friend sent me."

"toy? are you trying to make me mad?" kento's glad to admit he's never even seen you whisper next to a sex toy when he's around. he truly is so spoiled.

the door in his hand he was about to close behind him, slams shut with a single push. it makes just enough noise to pull you from your relaxed state, lowering your book and furrowing a brow.

so, just imagine your ease and joy when he has you folded in a mating press a few minutes later, sweat dripping down the side of his face as he fucks you into the mattress. your knee is over his shoulder, thick, chiseled torso shining in the dull bedroom light under sex and sin. he looks so good like this -- eyes screwed shut and only blinking open to study your pained, but highly satisfied expression.

"you want a baby so damn bad, I'll give you a baby." he growls, taking your other knee in his strong hands to will you deeper into the position. you're aching already, and he was not the gentlest, but you loved every second of it.

it's nearly embarrassing just how wet you are, and ken can feel it as you squelch and weep for him. it's impossible to let up, you're fucking squeezing around his cock like you're trying to milk him dry, spilling out fitting endearances that lick over him, giving him reason to take you harder.

he's so hard it hurts -- it hurts because you're so beautiful and he loves you so much that he hogs all of his sweet, sweet seed for you all day until you're loose enough to take all of it.

but, you're so damn stubborn and you know how to frustrate him. he loves it. he lives for anything you give him -- it just gives him reason to fuck you a little harder after a long day. he knows you need that, so who cares if it takes a little bratting to get your way?

after all, he married you.

and it's pointed directly at your womb that he cums so fucking hard and deep. forcing himself to keep fucking you through it so he can pump his seed deeper and deeper until it has nowhere to go but up and out.

your stupid little plan worked. now, he has you bred and limp when he pulls out, leaving a sick stain of white between your thighs in his wake.

"you got what you wanted? happy now?" ken regards you with a glance over his shoulder as he scoots out of bed. you're staring at him unblinking, just taking in the way his strong back twitches with every move.

it's fucked-out and pliable that you give him a little nod, smiling soft at the corners, you mumble --

"...gonna have a baby... yay."

[agathabridgerton]

She wanted him to be proud of her. She wanted it more than anything in the world, more even than she’d wanted him when she’d watched him from afar.

— Chapter 19, ROMANCING MISTER BRIDGERTON

[iggyshippingcorner]

[ stone doesn’t say a thing, the first time robotnik graciously allows him to sleep in his bed and silently brings out a tattered heap of brown fabric from beneath his pillow. the doctor makes no introduction, just curls up with the time-worn, well-loved toy cradled to his chest, and grumbles, “you’re big spoon. if you snore, I’m going to smother you with a pillow.”

stone swallows around the overwhelming fondness threatening to choke him, and wraps himself around the doctor without a word. he can feel the synthetic fur brushing against his fingers as he curls one arm around robotnik’s ribs. he marvels at the staggering amount of trust the doctor is putting in him, in this moment, and closes his eyes. ]

hello! I’m here to share some gooey stuffed animal feelings :) I was struck by this idea sometime last week and just couldn’t get it out of my head. the idea of Botnik having few things that he could call his own as a child resulting in him clinging to those things as an adult…. gah. full image and a lone shot of the stuffed animal in question below the cut!

a bit of explanation: I don’t have solid ages for the robotniks featured here, but the general idea was (1) tiny baby botnik, (2) youth/teen, (3) adult, (4) somewhere around the time of s1. also yes stone did locate a replacement button for sir stuffins (hence the purple). it took a lot of gentle suggestion before robotnik even thought about making such a change, but ultimately he’s happy with the result.

[ he’s touched that stone takes his comfort creature so seriously, and has never mocked him for clinging to something so childish, even at his age. to have such a clear reminder of that every time he gazes upon his childhood companion is endlessly comforting :’^) ]

[dnncats]

slaying while slaying 🔪🩸

still + alt color:

[mohntilyet]

veilguard spoilers regarding a josie romance. but can we talk about the letter josie sends to a romanced inquisitor because. i’m sorry. fucking losing my mind at the fact that the inquisitor and josephine are close enough friends with the guy the inquisitor duels in her romance to be invited to meet his third child. implying they’ve been invited to the other two. at a baby shower and getting introduced as the one who dueled the baby’s father because he was trying to steal your girl. antivan romances insane.

NO LITERALLLYYYYY. AND HE’S AN IN LAW. ITS TOO FUNNY. i cannot imagine how they met and how yvette probably was like “teehee…. the man that my sister spurned…. has fallen in love with ME!” and the best/worst part is that ortranto really has. i like to think of them running around with each other and secretly meeting as though their families actually hate each other (they really don’t lol) . the ortrantos would probably be delighted to have their son actually marry a montilyet like they wanted, even better that they’re actually in love and it’s not arranged!

i have this image of josie going like “you can’t marry him. is this a joke, because it’s not funny. i almost embarrassed him! the only reason the ortrantos do not hate us is because he is a very kind man who saw that i was in love with the inquisitor! ….yes i suppose a very kind man like that could love you…….. yes of course i want you to be happy…… yvette gabrielle montilyet, i fear you are not hearing what i’m saying— DON’T SAY YOU ARE ALREADY AN ORTRANTO. DID YOU ELOPE? ah okay. don’t do that. i said don’t do that. yvette come back and listen to me” etc etc

of course i must believe that there was a big scene caused (once again) by a montilyet and ortranto that ends with lord ortranto making a speech where the publicly declares his love for yvette in front of all of antiva city to see and hear. so there’s no backing out from this one. in my mind there’s a rehash of the big “BECAUSE I LOVE HER!” (ortranto, desperate but genuine), “you do?” (completely aghast josie who has somehow missed the fact her sister has been giggling even more than usual), plus an “OF COURSE HE DOES!” (a thrilled yvette) that reminds josie so fondly of her own love story that she's immediately relaxed (and suddenly accepting) about this whole thing <3