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#hyperfeminine!reader
fbfh · 9 months
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rodrick x hyperfeminine hcs pt 3: changes: the big prom: the sex romp: the season finale
wc: 2.2k
genre: angst and fluff, teenage dream
pairing: rodrick x hyperfeminine!reader
warnings: roddy has low self esteem, madison and heather are not good friends prom trope, happy ending
summary: you and rodrick are both planning on ditching prom because if you can't go with each other, you don't want to go at all. fate has other plans, and rodrick thinks maybe prom isn't that overrated after all.
song recs: teenage dirtbag - wheatus, wasting love - iron maiden
a/n: LAST PART IN THE RODDY X HYPERFEM ARC!!! send me roddy asks bc this boy deserves more love. also if you get the clone high reference in the title I love you
(optionally) the iconic dress
tags @dustyinkpages @the-snake-pit @inthehoneymoonwithconnorrk800 @followingthefanfiction @2220825 @marveldemigod17 @celootaku1 @stay-to-reblog @whos-mixxie @mikulovingtrash @inthemindofaweirdo @b0nes-phobic @myymmeloo @wanderlustingcastaway @debbi3-debaser @lubunnii @imaybewrongbutidoubtit @cloverhasnobrain @bessonasa @strangelysamantha @1-800-starkindustrie @brookeskitty @1ummcalhoody6 @always1s4youbitch-blog @citri-koi @vincentluvr444 @brunnetteiwik @melllinaa @reeces-pieses @mentamaree @jasontodd-artemisgrace4life @jinniy
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You’ve spent the last few weeks throwing yourself into the project of planning Heather and Madison’s prom outfits 
And hair
And makeup
And accessories
But that all comes with the territory of getting ready for prom
Once you decided to put them in soft pastels and flowy floaty ball gown dresses, word got out pretty quickly that that was the look for prom season in plainview
Everyone was getting the poofiest, softest dresses they could get their hands on
Soon selkie dresses and all their knock offs were sold out everywhere
Even white and pastel suits and tuxedos were selling like hotcakes 
Heather and Madison keep asking about your dress, but you don’t have the heart to tell them you don’t have one yet
Because you don’t plan on going
If you can’t go with Rodrick you don’t want to go at all
You don’t want Heather and Madison to be disappointed, so you haven’t told them that your real plans for prom night are to stay at home in your cozy pink pajamas and watch romantic comedies while you throw chocolates at the screen like a heartbroken Elle Woods
Rodrick has similar plans to blow off prom night
With less romcoms and pedicures, but he still has no intention of going
He managed to score Iron Maiden tickets for the friday after prom for him and the guys
Even though Ward is probably going to flake on them so he can spend the weekend with his girlfriend
Her parents are out of town then, so none of them can blame him
Rodrick’s been going out of his way to throw out every flier and leaflet about prom that gets sent to their house before his mom can see it
And it’s been going fine 
Until Greg decides to be a little asshole and get revenge for a harmless prank Rodrick pulled on him
Sure, Greg’s skin was stained blue for the rest of the week
But still
That doesn’t warrant showing their mom all the prom flyers and convincing her that Rodrick can’t possibly miss out on this developmental milestone 
Rodrick was desperate not to go
And he almost got away with it
But before he knows it, it’s prom night and his mom barges into his room with the flier insisting he goes
Rodrick tries everything he can think of to change her mind
“Mom, I don’t have anything to wear.”
She digs through his closet and holds up the only clean shirt and tie in his closet, giving him a look in response
“I don’t have a ride.”
“You can take your van.”
“I don’t have a date!”
That one gets him a 10 minute lecture about building character and planning ahead
“And I’m sure if you ask nicely there will be some girl who will dance with you. To real music, not that… screaming and thrashing and noise you’re always playing.” Susan says, pausing the spotify playlist he’d been blasting
Rodrick rolls his eyes at how out of touch she is
Everyone at school thinks he’s some loser punk
And now he’s going to show up late to prom with no date??
He’s glad prom is only for seniors, because he would never be able to live this down otherwise
Maybe it won’t be too bad
He can just sit in the parking lot and blast Green Day until it’s time to leave
“And don’t you think you can just go somewhere else, or hide in your van. You know my friend Linda?”
Susan doesn’t wait for Rodrick to answer
“Well, she’s a chaperone, and she’ll tell me if you’re not there. Okay? This is for your own good, Rodrick.” 
Fuck
Well, that idea’s out
“Fine, I’ll go…” Rodrick agrees, reluctantly giving in
Susan is delighted
She starts to leave so he can get changed, but he stops her before she can
“Can I borrow your eyeliner?”
A little while later, he’s sitting in his van in the school parking lot
He was already wearing black converse and ripped black jeans, so he just had to throw on the black button up and red tie his mom found
His hair was perfectly messed up from the nap he was startled awake from when his mom barged in
He shoves his headphones in his pocket, and after putting it off for as long as he can, he gets out and closes the door
Maybe it won’t be so bad
Maybe there will be some live music that’s actually decent
Ward and his girlfriend are already there, so maybe they’ll take pity on him and let him third wheel for a while so he doesn’t feel like such a total loser
He opens the doors to the gym, and is met with a hellscape of fluffy pastels and cutesy radio pop
Even the guys are in white and soft shades of blue and green and yellow
He feels like he’s going to throw up
He's in hell
This is what hell looks like
Among the hellscape of fluffy pastel tulle, Heather and Madison text you in a fit, wondering where the hell you are
You’re missing prom for god’s sake
You text them back the same thing you’ve been telling them all night
You’re running late, you’re having wardrobe malfunctions, but have fun and you’ll be there soon
When their dates leave to get them drinks, Madison sees someone sulking at a table
It’s Rodrick Heffley
She subtly takes a picture of him from across the room and texts Madison
🚨HEFFLEY ALERT🚨
He looks fucking pathetic lmao
Like how sad can u get lskjsldkfjd
Heather responds, laughing at what a loser he is
Only Madison didn’t just text Heather
She texted the group chat with Heather, her, and you
Your phone starts blowing up with more texts from Heather and Madison
You finally check their texts, assuming it’ll be more of the same
Your heart drops when you see a picture of Rodrick sitting alone at a table
“He couldn’t even get a date?? How pathetic 💀”
Your stomach sinks as you feel your heart break for Rodrick
He doesn’t deserve this
And neither do you
Rodrick should get to enjoy his prom
And you should get to have at least one chance with him
You have to see him
You have to crash prom and tell him you’ve been crazy about him since the moment you saw him
You have to ask him to dance with you
You have to try
Realizing how much you have to do in such a short amount of time, you throw yourself out of bed
You dig through your closet until you find your sweet 16 dress
It’s not at all on brand with the unofficial theme for prom, but it will have to do
You grab shoes and some matching jewelry and get dressed in a hurry
After throwing on the slinky, glittering, hot pink evening gown, you put on a pair of matching marabou heels
Your earrings and choker accent your glittering dress, and the high slit in the floor length skirt shows off your shoes perfectly
You finish pulling yourself together and rush out the door to get to prom as fast as possible
You feel like Cinderella rushing to the ball, hoping to meet prince charming
And you really feel like you have a shot at pulling this off. 
Rodrick feels like absolute shit
He didn’t think prom could feel this awful, but here he is
Alone at a table like a total loser while everyone else is dancing and having a good time
He looked around for Ward
And found him and his girlfriend hooking up under the bleachers
And in the bathroom
And in an empty classroom
So third wheeling is officially not an option anymore
He feels like everyone is laughing at him
Some of them literally are
And in a room full of poofy pastel dresses and suits, he sticks out like a sore thumb
His outfit does kind of look like Gerard Way in the music video for Helena
But that’s obviously lost on all his mainstream pop obsessed classmates
He’s in a crowded room full of everyone in his grade
And he’s never felt more alone
This is torture
He’s about to get up and leave when the doors open on the other side of the gym
Heads turn as a gasp fills the room, followed by low murmuring
The crowd parts like Moses parting the sea, and Rodrick looks over curiously
You emerge from the graveyard of pastel tulle in a gorgeous, slinky, hot pink dress that looks like Elle Woods and Marilyn Monroe combined
And you’re looking right at him
His heart starts pounding
You walk toward him as a hush falls over the room
This can’t be real
There’s no way this is real
“Hi, Rodrick.” you say softly
He’s confused as fuck and feels like he could cry 
You actually know who he is??
You know his name???
“...Hi,” he chokes out, unsure of where the hell this is going
You look up at him with your pretty sparkly eyes and he feels like dreaming
“I…” you start, and he realizes you’re looking at him the way he looks at you, the way he’s been looking at you since he first saw you
“I never got to thank you for playing at my party.” You say softly
Thank him??
You actually liked it??
Everyone is staring at you with their jaws on the floor, but neither of you notice or care right now
He manages to choke out a response that probably sounds really stupid, but you just giggle sweetly
Are you blushing??
“Would-” you start, finally deciding to swallow your nerves and bite the bullet 
You have to go for it
You’ve never liked someone as much as you like Rodrick and if you don’t try now you’ll regret it for the rest of your life
Rodrick’s heart is hammering in his chest
You look so pretty he could die
“Do you want to dance?”
The words are out before your nerves can take over
He looks at you in disbelief 
“Yeah,” he breaths, hoping that if this is a dream that it’s one he won’t wake up from for a while
You step closer to him, but you both freeze as the next song starts playing
It’s another oversaturated top 50 pop song
You grimace in unison 
Rodrick notices your mutual distaste for the overplayed song
If you really liked loded diper…
“Uh, here,” he pulls out his headphones and offers you one
“Thanks,” you say, trying to suppress the butterflies erupting inside you
It feels intimate, sharing headphones and listening to his playlists
You fight a giddy smile and pop in the headphone as he hits shuffle
A flash of fear that you’ll judge him for his music taste and this whole beautiful dream will be ruined burns through him
Your pause as the music begins to play
Rodrick’s fear vanishes as fast as it came when you look up at him with enthusiastic sincerity
“I love Iron Maiden!”
“Really?” he asks
He thought you couldn’t surprise him anymore than you have tonight, but this just keeps getting better and better
“Yeah,” you nod, smiling brightly as you place his hands on your waist
You sway softly to the beat of the song
You rest your head on Rodrick’s chest, a banger of a song playing in one ear, and Rodrick’s thudding heartbeat in the other
Neither of you are aware of the stares, of Heather freaking out behind you, of the whispers and the gossip or one of the teachers cashing in on winning a bet that Rodrick would actually dance with someone by the end of the night
Even if you did, you wouldn’t care
Rodrick holds you tight, never wanting this night to end
His heart starts pounding harder as he looks down at you, and you pull away from him enough to look up at him
He swallows, hoping this goes well
“Me and the guys are going to see Iron Maiden next friday and I have an extra ticket, would you want to-”
You’re already nodding
“Yes!” you beam
Going to an amazing concert with the hottest guy you’ve ever seen is literally what you’ve been dreaming of for years
Rodrick lets out a chuckle, overjoyed that this worked, that he’s dancing with you and you said yes
He makes a mental note to thank his mom for forcing him to come here
But he forgets it as soon as you stretch up, pulling his face down to yours
You press a warm kiss to his lips, one full of anticipation, one you’ve both been dreaming about
He pulls you closer, melting into your touch
He thinks maybe high school isn’t as bad as he thought
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sinsandsweetness · 9 months
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something about hyperfeminine reader x rick.... another anon said he'd adore pink nail polish & i so totally agree. maybe cause he's so rough and sharp edged? and it's the very opposite of him? so the pretty pink skirts & sweet perfume you always wear would make his brain fuzzy in the best way !! 🤧
using this as an excuse to write something extremely self indulgent 🤍 obsessed with this sweet, girly, almost bimbo reader that Rick can’t help but be a little extra soft with… <3
When he steps out of the shower and onto the bathmat, he can’t help but smile at the sight of you sitting on the sink, one foot up and crouched over, focused intently on the toenail you’re currently painting. And he can’t help but notice how cute it is that your tongue is poking out the side of your mouth.
Rick rubs a towel on his hair and then wraps it around his waist, walking over to the dresser in the bedroom and grabbing some boxers. You’re a little too immersed in perfecting the pale pink pedicure to notice that he even finished his shower.
“Need some help?” He asks, coming up to the sink and reaching into a drawer. Grabbing some shaving cream and a safety razor.
You look up at the sound of his husky voice. Taking in the sight of his wet hair. Curls forming and dripping onto his shoulders. His torso, glistening with little beads of water that are racing to meet the waist band of his plaid boxer shorts.
“Hm?” You say. The sight of him went straight between your legs, making you almost immediately forget his question.
“D’you need some help there, sweetie?” He nods towards the hand gripping at Essie’s ballet slippers.
“Oh. No, I just finished. Thank you though,” you smile up at him sweetly, screwing the cap back on the bottle and turning to let your legs dangle off the marble countertop.
He positions himself in between your legs and against the vanity, while you lean back on your hands. Watching his brows draw together in focus as he rubs shaving cream along his jaw, his chin and the bottom half of his face. Grabbing the razor, he starts to make long, languid strokes down his face and neck. The blade moving with ever curve of his jaw, so smooth and intentional. But he can feel you staring. Glancing from the mirror to your gaze and then back. Trying to fight the smirk from forming on his face.
“Is it hard?” You ask, oblivious to the teasing grin on his face.
“Shaving?”
“Yeah. Aren’t you scared you’re gonna cut yourself, or somethin’?” You ask, doe eyes wide and curious. And the sight makes him think about you on your knees, having looked up at him in nearly the exact same way, all sweet and eager and so fucking perfect.
Rick shakes his head, at both the intrusive thought and your question, “Not really. Don’t you shave your legs? It’s the same thing, sweetheart.”
“But this is on your face. And you’ve seen how many times I end up nicking myself.”
He smiles, knowing that it’s true. Watching you sit on the side of the tub, silky robe leaving very little to the imagination as you glide a razor up your legs, trying to go nice and slow and get every little hair. Turning sharply to look at him with wide eyes and a hand on your mouth when you both notice a crimson droplet, trickling all the way down to your ankle.
“Yeah. You aren’t so good at that are you?” He chuckles, pressing a quick peck to your mouth which you immediately wipe off because now there’s shaving cream on your nose.
It takes everything in his power not to kiss you again.
“So how do you always get it so good?” Your honeyed voice brings him back.
“Practice I guess. You wanna try?”
“And leave you with any more scars? No thank you.” You joke.
“C’mon. Give it a try.”
“You sure?”
He nods, urging the razor into your hand and leaning in for you, “Mhm. I trust you.”
You gulp at that comment. Hoping he can still keep that trust in a few minutes when you’re all done.
You try to copy what he was doing, going extra slow over the ridge of his jaw and the bump of his adam’s apple. He hums in approval and you take it as some kind of praise. Sitting up straight and a little more confident now that his hands have moved to your hips, pulling you to the edge of the counter. Panties now flush with his groin.
“I did it.” You say triumphantly, handing him back the razor and letting your hands slide around his waist, fingers interlocking on top of his tailbone. Cheek pressed to his chest as he leans forward to rinse the razor under the faucet beside you. Tapping the metal on the counter twice. The sound echoing through the room, before he places it on a folded towel on the other side of the sink.
He leans back up to look at you. Pretty eyes and pouty lips. Hair all soft and natural, and tucked behind the dainty gold jewelry dangling from your ears.
“Y’look so pretty.” You marvel, one hand coming up to his jaw. Freshly shaved, so smooth and warm. With just the tiniest strip of leftover shaving cream that needed to be washed off.
You are so much prettier, sweet girl, he thinks to himself. Unable to form a verbal answer now that you’re touching his face. His heart doing somersaults like it was the first time. It isn’t. But he loves feeling like it is.
Being with you in this moment makes him forget what was stressing him out before his shower. Completely unbothered by the tedious week he’d had helping the Tobin with the walls.
Now, all he can even think about is you. Your face. Your voice. Your long legs and the holy temple in between them.
He closes his eyes at your touch, soft and delicately tracing your way down his jaw. The attention sending a tingly, serene feeling up his neck and down his spine.
He can’t even help what he does next. Not that he really needed to. And definitely not that he wanted to. He pulls you in, tangling his fingers into the locks at the nape of your neck. Kissing your soft, plush lips and tracing a tongue over your bottom one.
You taste like candy. And you smell like a vanilla cupcake. And the combination of the two makes him want nothing more than to take a damn bite.
Gosh, you couldn’t be more different from him. So pure and soft and sweet. So fucking kind and perfect. And though he may be a bit biased given your relationship and all, he’s positive that not a soul in Alexandria would disagree.
Your breath hitches in your throat as he pulls your legs around his waist, and he can’t help but smile against your lips and think to himself how fucking lucky he is that he found someone who can be his escape. Who can make his brain feel all fuzzy and his heart feel way too full. Who effortlessly distracts him from everything that’s wrong with in the world, just by being your beautiful self.
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simonrillleyyysss · 6 months
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simon with a hyperfeminine s/o who has a bunch of stuffed anomals and makeup and just a generally pink covered room?
he doesn’t judge..outloud.
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it confuses him, pink walls with white curtains, pink bed, pink skincare supplies—pink everything, how could someone be so obsessed with one colour?
but, it makes you happy; though it makes him feel somewhat embarrassed at times, for himself.
he’s embarrassed when you catch him snuggled up against one of your large pink teddies, snoring his brains out before you giggled, causing him to leap up in a matter of seconds.
‘you were cuddling the teddy!’
‘dunno what yr’ talking about, go to sleep.’
honestly, he adores sinking into your mattress,covered by pink sheets and hello kitty teddies, while your long nails dragged over his head; purring into the soft fat of your stomach like a cat would, hand trailing over his outgrown buzzcut.
as for your makeup, he doesn’t really care— he’s mentioned that it’s bad for your skin in the past, but never deters you from it; as he knows you care about your skin and image heavily, so you must know what you’re ‘risking.’ (hes dramatic) uet continues to reassure you that you (could still get him hard without it ) look amazing without it!
he let you introduce him to skincare products after his skin broke out in rashes due to the constant rubbing of the fabricated mask on his face, teaching him how to exfoliate, moisturise and just treat his skin properly.
(would do your eyeliner for you, he is so good at it.)
he’ll watch you do your makeup most of the time, watching you blow on your thick lashes before glueing them on carefully, full lips pursed as your chubby cheeks puffed out.
sometimes, he lets you host little fashion shows for him to help choose your ootd, letting out hums and comments.
‘lookin’ good, dress is too short f’me. only i can see yr’ goodies.’
‘it’s meant to be short!’
‘wear that cute skirt y’have, the one with the white.’
he loves having a girly partner, makes him feel so masculine and is a HUGE EGO BOOST, he would kill for you
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frickingnerd · 1 year
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fumikage tokoyami with a hyperfeminine girlfriend
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pairing: fumikage tokoyami x fem!reader
tags: feminine reader, fluff, established relationship, petnames
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tokoyami and you are day and night. light and dark. the sun and the moon. whatever you want to call it
nobody had expected tokoyami would be into someone as girly as you
and nobody had expected you would fall for a boy like tokoyami
yet here you were, happy and in love with each other
just based on your looks alone people would always stare at the two of you. he's wearing all black, while you're wearing all pink
you're a positive and bubbly girl, someone who easily makes friends with everyone around her
and because of it, you often drag your boyfriend to social events and get him to open up to others as well
tokoyami appreciates that you are this outgoing, since it compliments his own personality. he isn't the type to approach someone as naturally as you do
you do tokoyamis make up. you're pretty good at so you give the greatest eyeliner he's ever seen and paint his nails black
in return, tokoyami always lets you borrow his hoodies. they look so big on you and it's amusing to see you in complete black for once, instead of your usual pink dresses
tokoyami will listen to you ramble about fashion while he brushes your hair. you even teach him how to braid it
he'll go shopping with you and lets you pick out some clothes for him. often times you just get him jewelry though - some nice rings and necklaces that compliment his outfits
tokoyami gives you sweet nicknames like "princess" or "angel", while you call him "my dark lord" or "fallen angel"
it was a joke at first but you just kept using those nicknames for him
plus, there is nothing funnier than watching people's faces when you answer the phone with a casual "hello my dark lord" 
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floralsandstrawberries · 10 months
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bookish barbie 📚🩷
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eddiesjeandiovest · 8 months
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@stevebabey’s steve x reader fics are the only ones I can read fr bc so many people mischaracterize steve and make him into this weird over-sexualized dude who is quite frankly so bad at dirty talking and is just hypermasculine and icky whereas ruby always makes steve into this caring, quick-witted, versatile character that feels v akin to steve’s real personality and feels much more organic
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lovedeathalice · 9 months
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Bro WHY is it that in mlm fics one of them is ALWAYS so heavily feminized😭
Like they're both men bro PLEASE PLEASEEEE for once let me read a fic where the fixed bottom is not feminized, godDAMN
For the love of god let a big tall muscular man fuck another big tall muscular man's brains out
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planetsano · 1 month
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if your agreeing with natmp3 that makes you a hypocrite because im sure the fic you have of bllk cast running a train on reader is not exactly definition of soft feminine black reader
Hello, anon! I personally don’t write for a specific race in particular, I never have! Hope this helps! ❤️
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letterstotheflre · 2 years
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omg on this theyll complain about highly feminine readers but then shit on writers writing the tomboy/hyper masculine like readers as well!!! and i domt eveb see the issue w feminine readers bc we suffered through the 'not like other girls' tomboy reader for enough years
either pick a side or write your own shit
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frogchiro · 7 months
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hi snookums 🙏🏽 could You do somthin like this with Ghost & reader . ? reader can be civvie or js.. in the Military also & this is Her flat when off deployment
I saw this yesterday and I love this so much :(( Also this is very much hacker girl!Reader coded!! She's a talented hacker and has an unusual knack for survival but she's also so feminine and soft all over so the hyperfeminine pink room is right up her alley :((
Just,, imagine Ghost, this huge, burly military man who could be called incredibly masculine with his being all strength and muscle, the body hair, scars and tattoos only add to the image, not to mention his huge veiny cock and large, full and low hanging balls; it all paints a picture of a man in his prime, the peak of virility, just all man.
And yet there he is, asleep and cuddled deep into your fuzzy, warm pink blankets, your numerous, fluffy, powder pink pillows surround his large form in a sort of nest, a place he came to associate with safety, love and warmth. At first he was reluctant, bordering on refusing all the small luxuries your position granted you, saying that it was 'too excessive' for him, but after you saw his room, basically barren and empty safe for the military issued furniture and bed you knew that you had to convince him to indulge, even if a little bit :((
Now you literally can't get Simon off of your bed, your playful efforts always met with a grumpy growl and usually (always) end up with you pulled back into his body under your fluffy covers where Si nuzzles into your neck and falls back asleep with your scent in his nose and your warmth against his chest <3
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fbfh · 7 months
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makey makeover - rodrick x hyperfeminine reader
wc: 1.5k
pairing: rodrick x gn hyperfeminine!reader
warnings: rodrick isn't used to being taken care of but only briefly mentioned at the end, rodrick does not know what hyaluronic acid is
summary: rodrick can never say no to you, but if it means having you straddle his lap while you use all your skincare products on him and listen to music together, he wouldn't want to say no anyway.
song recs: makey makeover - crazy ex girlfriend cast, jesus of suburbia - green day, perfect day - hoku
a/n: I started writing a kids book yesterday?? like I finished the first chapter and outline in one sitting???? it wasn't at all planned but when the muse strikes yk. Anyway I don't think it will take me as long to write so if you wanna read a chapter book about magic and girlhood and unicorns and other mythical creatures with bella sara vibes that's probs gonna be ready reasonably soon lol
tags: @yesv01 @magcon7280 @dustyinkpages @the-snake-pit @kiara7777 @inthehoneymoonwithconnorrk800 @followingthefanfiction @2220825 @Maggzsworld @xiaos_crustytoenails @ionlymadethisaccountbcihadto @strawberryjen124 @Isaentremundos @hxnbah
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Rodrick likes to think he's a pretty tough guy. Between being born and raised on the rebellious messages of pop punk music, and the nonconforming ideologies of emo and other alt subcultures, Rodrick knows in his bones that he'll never let the man break his spirit. He'll never bow down to someone just because they want him to do something. He's had countless opportunities to stand by these beliefs at school and at home, and he has never - not once - come close to doing anything for someone simply because they want him to. Rodrick has been confident in his ability to never give into other people’s orders, no matter how much they demand of him. 
Until now.
“Pretty please, Roddy…?” You pout your glossy lips at him, blinking up at him and batting your doll like eyelashes, and that’s all it takes to make him fold.
“...I guess, if you really-” He’s cut off by an excited squeal from you, and he’s glad that you’re too distracted to notice him blush. Rodrick has never felt his willpower give in so fast, but as he watches you rush around your room and smile, delighted that he’d agreed, he realizes that he’d do pretty much anything you tell him too. Ben and Chris would call him a pussywhipped simp, but… no, that’s pretty much it. He chuckles a little at the thought, watching the pile of stuff grow. He recognizes nail polish and tweezers, but that’s about it.
“Thank you thank you thank you!” You say, rambling happily as you settle down on your bed across from him. “I’ve been wanting to do self care stuff but I’ve done so many everything showers and self care nights there’s nothing left for me to do on myself. But you…”
You take his face in your manicured hands, moving him around to inspect more closely.
“You are in serious need of a facial.”
Rodrick doesn’t really process what you’re saying, he just loves when you touch his face like that. 
“...Uh, yeah totally.” He mutters absentmindedly, distracted by your sweet smell. After a moment, he processes what you said, and chuckles, leaning back into your silky pink pillows. “Babe, you can do anything to me, anywhere, anytime.” 
You giggle, feeling your face flush a little as you get all your stuff organized. Rodrick runs his hands up and down your waist, fidgeting with your soft fluffy pajama shorts and big loded diper shirt you wear all the time. He sees the little burn marks and worn out hems and realizes it’s the one you stole from him. He smiles softly, loving the way you look in it even more now. His attention is pulled back to you when you push something over his face, brushing his hair back. You adjust the fluffy cat ears on the headband, making sure you have access to his whole face. Rodrick giggles a little, knowing he must look a little out of place wearing a pierce the veil shirt and fluffy kitty cat headband. 
“I don’t think my forehead has been this exposed since like, 4th grade…” he chuckles.
“That’s good, you’ll have less sun damage that way.” You smile, putting some micellar water on a cotton pad. It’s a little cold to the touch, but after a moment, the feeling of you gently wiping over his face and neck ends up being way more relaxing than he had expected it to. You throw it away, and he hears it land in your trash can with a crinkle. 
“I’m gonna mist your face now, okay?” You say, and he nods. You spray rose water on his face, and Rodrick can’t get over how considerate you are to give him a heads up like that. Rodrick smiles a little as he adjusts to the subtle floral smelling facial spray he’s used to smelling on you. He basks in the quietness of your room, opening his eyes as he watches you sitting on his stomach and looking for the next product. You hesitate for a moment. You feel like something’s missing, but you can’t put your finger on it.
“Oh,” you say, reaching for your phone as you remember. You open up Spotify, and put your favorite playlist on shuffle - the one you and Roddy share. It’s full of both your favorite songs, mostly boiling down to early 2000’s pop punk and trashy pop. It’s chaotic but really does suit you both perfectly.  Rodrick smiles suddenly as he instantly recognizes the opening notes of Jesus of Suburbia begin to play. You take out your favorite serum, jasmine and blackberry hydrating jelly, and place a few drops around his face. 
“What’s that one?” Rodrick asks, picking up another bottle. 
“Hyaluronic acid.”
Rodrick looks at the little dropper bottle.
“Does it, like, melt the flesh right off your bones?” 
“No…?” You chuckle, massaging his cheekbones and jawline with your fingertips.
“Then why is it called hydroponic acid?” He asks rhetorically, “Acid is supposed to melt shit.”
You laugh again, and he makes a mental note to sample your laughter for a song at some point in the future. He doesn’t know which one yet, but he knows it will be his best one yet. 
You rub some cooling aloe vera gel into his skin, then take out your rose quartz gua sha stone. You tap your fingertips against his chest, and he looks at you with an amused smile.
“What does that do?”
He watches you work, eyes locked on you. He can’t remember the last time he felt this relaxed and peaceful. 
“I’m prepping your lymphatic drainage system.” 
That clarified absolutely nothing for Rodrick, but he trusts you implicitly. You’re so good at so many things, but Christ, you could write a book on all that girly beauty stuff. It’s way more hardcore than people think it is. You know about all these acids and drainage systems and the pink rock thing, and even though he’s impressed, he’s not at all surprised by how good you are at all this stuff.
You begin gently gliding your gua sha over Roddy’s skin, working from his forehead down to his neck and jawline. He stops talking as you work, and it’s like you melt all of the stress out of his body through his face. He could fall asleep with you touching him so gently like this. After a while you rub some more cream into his face, then place something under his eyes that feels like thinly sliced jello.
“What the fuck?” He asks, bringing another laugh out of you. He watches you take two more of the weird jelly things and put them under your own eyes.
“They’re under eye masks.” You answer with a chuckle. “They hydrate your skin, depuff, and get rid of dark circles.”
“Huh…” he hums in response, playing with the patches as they sit on his face. 
Once you’ve used half your arsenal of skincare products on him, you peel off his sheet mask and let him sit up. You hand him a mirror, and as he sits up and stretches a little, kind of wishing you had more to do, he feels like he just woke up from the best sleep of his life. 
“So? What do you think?” You ask excitedly. He can’t help but crack a smile at how cute you are. Rodrick takes the mirror you offer him. When he sees his reflection, he almost doesn’t recognize himself. 
“Oh my god…” he says with a soft smile. He’s glowing. He doesn’t think he’s ever looked this soft and moisturized and… cared for before. He doesn’t even have any crusty eyeliner from yesterday smudged around his eyes. He can never get it off all the way, but one wave of your magic wand, and it’s gone. He laughs again, touching his cheek. He looks up at you in surprise.
“My face is so smooth…” “I know!” You exclaim in delight. “So, do you like facials after all?”
You have a feeling you already know the answer, but Rodrick looks up at you anyway.
“Yeah,” he states, pulling you in for a kiss, his lips soft and exfoliated, topped with your favorite strawberry lip balm. You think Rodrick is right, it does taste better in a kiss. After he pulls away, it takes him a minute for his brain to stop short circuiting. 
“So… uh, are we doing this again next weekend?” 
You laugh at his hopeful tone of voice, how he raises his eyebrows a little. 
“Yeah.” You nod, taking him in for another kiss. You take his hands in yours, looking at the stick and poke tattoo he got of the heart you drew on his hand in chemistry class, his little calluses from drumming. “Next week I can do something about your cuticles.”
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sinsandsweetness · 7 months
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season 5 scary beard rick getting sweet, hyperfem reader on her knees for him, and her just looking up all sweet and obedient and docile, just about ready to do anything for him I FEEL LIKE ITD DRIVE HIM WILDDDD
“Are you okay?” She whispers as he tugs her behind the barn. Neither of them wanting to attract any attention from the potential threats out in the woods.
“Just need your help with something, princess,” his mouth starts trailing down her neck as he pushes her up against the barn. Rough wood with the threat of a splinter catches on her sweater. It’s stretched out collar falls off her shoulder and grants him even more access to her neck. Nipping lightly at her collarbone.
“With what?”
He doesn’t answer, tilting his head up, he catches her lips and grabs her hand, placing it against the front of his jeans. Tall and hard under the dark denim, she gets the hint almost immediately.
It doesn’t take long before she’s on her knees. So obedient. The very impractical mini skirt she wears is riding up above her hips and the sight of her soft bare skin drives him wild. He’s thankful that her pretty lace panties are only shown to the wood siding of the barn and not the forest behind them. He holds one arm up against the wall for support, doubling as an unintentional shield to their intimate act. His fingers lace with her unruly locks, guiding her close enough to kiss him through his boxers.
“Atta girl,” he says as her fingers trace at his waistband. The site in front of him nearly catches him in a trance. She’s so pretty like this. All wide eyed and willing.
He urges her on, “You know what to do.”
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pinkmirth · 7 months
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⸻ 𝒦ℰℰ𝒫ℰℛ!
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𝒮𝒴𝒩𝒪��𝒮ℐ𝒮 ˚୨୧⋆。˚ ⋆ you’ve fallen for your darling bodyguard, and you’re over the moon to discover that he feels the same. but this feels borderline forbidden . . . for just how long can you keep what you have with reiner under wraps?
𝒞𝒪𝒩𝒯𝒜ℐ𝒩𝒮 ˚୨୧⋆。˚ ⋆ ( 5k+ words of . . . ) bodyguard!reiner x fem!reader (black coded), fluff, nsfw, modern au, scion!reader (descending from a rich family/influential bloodline), hyperfeminine ‘girly-girl’ reader, reiner’s german, mutual pining, secret relationship / sneaky link, public display of affection (pda), food play, car sex (unprotected), slight dacryphilia, creampie, use of pet names ( e.g. mama, baby, honey, princess), reader calls reiner ‘ papa, ’ explicit language, lowercase intended, minors shoo!
𝓂𝓎 𝓁𝒾𝓉𝓉𝓁ℯ 𝓁ℴ𝓋ℯ 𝓁ℯ𝓉𝓉ℯ𝓇! ˚୨୧⋆。˚ ⋆ this post is an answer to an anonymous ask: ‘ what about secret dates (turned sneaky links) with body guard! reiner??? ’ oh. my. goodness! nonnie, you’re a sexy genius and you should know it. tagging the amazing @ramonathinks! she’s the one who even introduced this bodyguard!rei-rei concept to me, and for that i’m so grateful :) ramona my love, thank you again for all the delicious reiner thoughts you always send my way! now enjoy, xoxo ♡︎
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reiner’s your bulking shadow, always trailing not far behind.
he’s been hired by your parents to ensure your safety. nothing more, nothing less. he’ll follow your every step and drive you wherever you please; after all, it’s what he’s paid to do.
things started off the way they should— professional. from the very beginning, reiner knew to keep his distance, and that he did. but he soon realized just how hard that would become . . . you’re effortlessly gorgeous, sharp with your words and caring to a fault. his growing affection was only a matter of time.
nowhere on the criteria for the job does it say that he should be developing feelings. observing your habits, committing them to memory and predicting your behavior is the only thing he’s got any business doing. yet, he loves to feel the softness of your palm in his hand when he helps you into the backseat of your car, even if the contact is just for a split second at most. he finds himself peeking glances at you from the rearview mirror, soaking in how pretty you look when you’re unaware of his gaze. in truth, reiner wishes you didn’t have such an effect on him; that would make work-life much easier on his poor soul. well, love isn’t known for being simple, now is it?
it takes about four weeks on the job for him to grow a soft spot for you. reiner’s always been a hopeless romantic, oh-so quick to fall. he’d willingly lay down his life for the sake of your own, and not just because he’s getting a paycheck for it. thanks to the job description, his devoutness isn’t questioned.
before long, reiner can tell you’re becoming attached to him as well. on a fateful night, he even overhears the phone call between you and your friend, something about ‘ mister braun being so sexy that it hurts . . . ’ your bodyguard is nothing if not a man of dignity. he never meant to eavesdrop! it’s just that he's stationed outside your room for night patrol. he’s now especially glad about being up at five in the morning; he wouldn’t have been able to hear this otherwise. your confessions pry a subtle grin from his lips. there he stands, smiling to himself in the dimly lit hallway where nobody can see him blush like a schoolboy.
‘ nuh-uh, i can’t! that man works for my parents . . . he’s completely off-limits. it's a damn shame, isn’t it? ’ you release a sigh, one so exasperated that he can hear it through the other end of the door. call reiner crazy, but it sounds to him like you’re yearning to have him all to yourself. in a sudden moment, you're emerging from the room, donned in a tiny pink nightgown. cute, but thin as fuck. leaves nothing to the imagination, even. it’s the flimsiest thing he's ever seen you wear.
reiner’s cheeks burn so red that is downright embarrassing, thankfully you're unable to see him. he’s quick to lift his head and look towards the ceiling instead— much more suitable than ogling the tits of his very own client. you wouldn’t be able to catch him staring regardless, considering how the entire corridor’s tainted with darkness, but he wouldn’t dare try to steal a peek anyway.
what he can see, though, is your leisurely smile as you tell him you’re headed to the kitchen to grab a cool glass of water.
“would you like to escort me there too, mister braun? or can i go do something by myself for once?”
you’re playing with him, he realizes. just mere teasing meant to be absolutely harmless. your voice sounds much sweeter at this hour; soft and casual, coated lightly with fatigue from a busy day’s schedule.
“as long as we’re indoors, you can go anywhere you like, madam.” says reiner, “i’ll be here if you need me.”
you make your way to the refrigerator, prancing down the mansion’s luxe spiral staircase, and reiner’s rampant heart finally begins to calm. he wonders if you’d meant for him to hear you on that call. (by now, he knows just how cheeky you can be; it was definitely purposeful.) nevertheless, he's got a job to keep. neither your mother or father would respond kindly if they were to find out that he's become attached to you, or vice versa. he can hardly imagine playing the boyfriend when in reality, he’s supposed to be making sure nothing suspicious comes anywhere near a mile-long radius of you . . . it’s laughable! he’s sure your parents have more than enough money to make him disappear in the blink of an eye— that chilling fact alone puts him on his best behavior.
reiner decides to conceal it; the way he feels for you. keeps his back straight and arms folded to portray the unapproachable persona that got him hired in the first place. you eventually decide to question him over why he so-often wears that solid expression, ‘ like he doesn’t know how to smile, ’ is how you put it. it’s the very first time that you ever hear him laugh, and you turn out to like the sound. rumbly and full of bass. he couldn’t bring himself to admit that in every waking moment, it takes everything to suppress his smile whenever he sees you.
eight months of being in his company brings you to notice that reiner’s a decent listener. he makes for a great conversation, too. sure, he’s just your bodyguard, but he’s got a good ear and a smooth voice. your talks with him are always so lovely; he gives you the comfort to open up about things you’d never be able to tell your parents. pride washes over him when you admit that he’s the only one you genuinely trust. and in these moments, reiner allows himself to get vulnerable too. he tells you of his love for football as a youth, how he takes combat classes five times a week, and that he’s got tons of sisters, brothers and cousins back home in the countryside. the pair of you are so different that the contrast could almost be considered terrible. though, the longer you stay in each other’s presence, the less you can bring yourselves to care.
you and your bodyguard have grown . . . close, to say the least. the way you’re always latching onto his brawny form seems much more than friendly, especially to your parents. ‘ i feel secure with him! ’ is your claim. they’d beg to differ, but your wellbeing is enough to keep them satisfied. reiner excels at his job, and more importantly, the big blonde lug makes you happy. nobody they’ve hired in the past was ever able to get in your good graces; you utterly hated all your former bodyguards. they were much too controlling, lingered too close.
but mister braun was able to differentiate himself. he listens to your dreams and fears alike, treats you like a capable woman instead of some spoiled brat. it also doesn’t hurt that he’s incredibly easy on the eyes . . .
reiner can no longer take it. the woman of his dreams is right in front of him, and there’s not a damn thing he can do about it. the smoothest advance he can make is standing at your right side and slinking an arm around your waist, with claims of it being for your ‘protection.’ but the both of you know it’s only the proximity he’s chasing after. the way he looms beside you was always more self-indulgent than it was for safety. he just liked the closeness of it all.
he feels so much for you, and he’s virtually dying to tell you. but there’s countless reasons why he shouldn’t— particularly the risk of losing his job. every now and again, reiner chooses to be a little bit stupid, all consequences be damned. he works up the nerve to release his confession with slow and careful words. you quickly reciprocate, arms thrown around the back of his neck and tugging him into a cozy hug. he takes you by the waist and pulls you closer in— god, he’s been wanting to do this for so long. reiner hums when your manicured fingers ghost his nape, nails grazing the ends of his hair, with your tits pressed to his own chest. the pair of you fit better than he ever could’ve imagined.
you don’t know whether to call yours and reiner’s relationship ‘ official ’ — can it really be deemed as such when you’re the only ones who know? you dare not mention this to your parents, ‘cause he’s got a job to keep and you couldn’t possibly bear him not being around.
so, you’ve both decided that it’ll be a secret. shared only between you and him, so nobody’s able to intervene. dating your bodyguard is fun— brief kisses being shared when you’re the only ones in the room. the way he snugly hooks his arm around your body when escorting you feels tighter, a little more intimate. in a way, keeping things under wraps feels exhilarating.
your particular relation with mister braun isn’t verified to the outside world, but people are catching on. whenever you go out, reiner’s sure to follow. paparazzi-taken photos of you are occasionally uploaded to the internet, and it’s always a given that he’ll be included. after several months of being seen together time after time, it’s typical of people to assume that this so-called ‘ bodyguard ’ of yours is more of a boyfriend. they aren’t too far off, but you clearly won’t go out of your way to confirm their suspicions. you’re always captured in a picture of you clinging onto his burly arm with a glossy smile. your sweet expressions contrast nicely with his forever-furrowed brows. he’s handsome in this intimidating way, the tabloids say.
it’s a slow-moving thursday when reiner decides to take you on your first date with him. he waits a good hour and forty-five minutes for you to get ready. he’s used to this, of course. by now, he’s got nearly a year’s experience of waiting on you hand and foot. but tonight, his nerves get the best of him. you finish up when he least expects you to— for fuck’s sake, you even catch him pacing in the goddamn kitchen. the sight of you melts his concerns, just a little. you’re done up glamorously from head to toe, and reiner can’t contain his smile, nor hold back his stare. your light lashes are curled and wispy, with blush scattered along your cheekbones. your plush lips are pink with tint, and you’ve got on this figure-hugging outfit that he’d love to tear off of you.
you scan your surroundings, peering at every angle of your spacious home in search of your parents. after ensuring the coast is clear, you engulf him in your arms, wishing you could kiss him but you’re all dolled up and your lips are lined and glossed. reiner nuzzles his nose into the crook in your neck, inhaling faint traces of your most beloved vanilla parfum.
“god, you look so fuckin’ beautiful,” his whisper is soft against your warm flesh. you rub your hands along his broad shoulders, then slide them down his firm biceps. “and you look sexy in black,” you perk up at him, eyes round and gleaming. he loves you, he’s come to realize. and the last thing he wants is to screw this up . . .
he’s thinking too damn much. you can easily tell. it’s obvious in the way his thin blonde brows wire downwards like something’s wrong.
“reiner . . . stop it.” you order, voice serious. you only ever speak that way when you want his utmost attention. to that, he fixes his posture and stands tall as if he’s on patrol.
“stop what?” is his vague response, hands loosely positioned at either one of your hips. you lift your palms to cup his face, feeling the definition of his high cheekbones and firm jawline beneath your fingertips. he’s gorgeous, you think.
“for one, you’re clenching your teeth,” you mention, caressing his rigid jaw line until the tightness lessens. his stubble’s rough and scratchy, but it fits him so damn well. “and you’re frowing, baby.” next, your thumbs trail up to his brows, gently kneading at the creased arch. “relax.”
“m’sorry,” reiner lets out, tone low and pleading. his hands rub at your sides in an anxious pattern. “it’s jus’ that you’re so important to me . . . i wanna do this right, y’know?”
“i bet you will, rei. no need to worry, hm?” you shoot him a soft smile, and he returns it; one of the rare times you catch a glimpse of his nice and shiny teeth. “now show me a good time, papa.”
right before taking your leave , your parents have questions for you— almost too many. you don’t have any business meetings or mall trips on your schedule, so where on earth is he taking you to? rei-rei claims that he’s bringing you to a new restaurant that you’ve been meaning to try. he’ll drive you there and stay on patrol; or so he says. they decide not to question the unusually neat way his blonde hair is slicked back, or how his black dress-shirt and slacks look sharper than usual. hell, he smells amazing too. it can’t be denied that mister braun cleans up nicely.
see, reiner told a partial truth to your family. you’re on your way to a new german restaurant that’s about twelve minutes out, it’s just that you wanted to try it out with him in particular. on the drive there, you just can’t seem to restrain yourself from gazing at the man. reiner looks so put together like this, in a strapping black outfit that‘s snug against his arms, chest and thighs. his side profile’s flawless— he’s got a perfectly defined nose that slopes down to his lips, and you yearn to lick on his protruding adam’s apple. he’s got one hand on the wheel, merging into lanes and making u-turns, while the other that’s unoccupied intertwines with your softer, smaller one.
upon reaching a red light, he takes the opportunity to lift your hand up to his face, trailing his lips along the back of it. “lieblich . . .” he murmurs something in his native tongue that you can’t seem to understand, though you know its meaning is a sweet one. your grin makes him forget all about the risk he’s taking.
upon reaching your destination, reiner’s back in bodyguard-mode. that’s how he gets whenever you’re in public. yes, you’re on a date, but your safety will forever be his number one priority. he escorts you in with a large hand fit snugly into the small dip of your back as he confirms the reservation. his touch never leaves you, not even for a second. he does that thing; where he takes a brief one-over of the area, scrutinizing his environment before making the next move. you go one, two, three stories up, to the VIP floor where your dinner seats reside.
it’s a lot, he knows— the velvet floors, fancy cream-white seats and glass-like walls that showcase an aweing view of the city. you’re more than used to the finer things in life, so the only thing he wants to give you is what you deserve.
you’re raving on about how nice everything looks, leaning back into your seat as you sip on a flute of sheer-pink rosé. he’s relieved to know that he was able to make you smile tonight. a waiter presents themselves, and reiner effortlessly engages with them in german conversation. his words are smooth and fluid as he translates all the entrée and sides you asked for. even when placing a simple order, he’s still the sexiest man on earth. would now be a bad time to kiss the hell out of him?
the next three hours go by quick. you’re chatting and laughing and trying bits of each other’s platters ( though, it's mostly you eating a over half of the food from his plate . . . ) you got yourself salted-caramel ice cream for dessert, and reiner’s mischievous enough to lean close and lick the dripping residue off the corner of your lips. you gasp at him and deliver a playful kick to his foot from under the table.
“what? you had somethin’ there.” is the given excuse for his rascal behavior. naughtiness twinkles in his golden-brown eyes. there aren’t many people up here on the expensive floor, apart from two other occupied tables located on the other end of the room, and a handful of waiters that leave the kitchen every now and again. he’s lucky there isn’t anyone to catch you both.
“you’re crazy,” your laugh is infectious, “don’t make me return the favor.”
in a quick motion, reiner swipes a finger into the ice cream, his touch meeting a subtle cold. before the caramel gets the chance to melt all the way down the length of his digit, he smears some across his bottom lip. his tongue juts out to lick up the rest of the treat from his index finger.
“oh, please do.”
being away from probing eyes has made reiner bold as ever. you take him up on his request, tilting forward so that your tongue can eagerly swipe over his lips and wipe them clean. mostly sweet, just the tiniest bit salty. you want more of him already.
there’s isn’t a soul watching, so reiner escalates it. in an instant he’s got your lips merging, his hand squeezing your thigh from under the table, hot puffs of air escaping you both. “oh my god— you’re g’na get me in trouble, rei!”
“so be it,” reiner mumbles in reply, his words ticklish against your lips. from underneath his fingertips, reiner senses how tightly you press your thighs together, hungry for friction. he’s even beginning to feel worked up himself. but, the pair of you haven’t gone that far yet. the most you’ve done are hour-long makeout sessions on your king-sized bed in the earliest points of the day, when you have enough privacy to get away with it. but you wouldn’t mind feeling him in a new way tonight . . .
“you wanna get out of here, don’t you, mama?” reiner coos, cheeks rosier with his eyes slightly lidded. “mhm,” you’re quick to agree. so he puts the payment for the meal on his tab, takes your hand in his and leads you back down to floor one until you’re out of the building and back inside your window-tinted g-wagon.
mister braun is big. you’ve always known it from his appearance alone, but fuck, it holds a much greater meaning when he’s got you tucked into the backseat of your mercedes with his slacks pulled down to his ankles and your dress strewn sideways, making a slow attempt to press himself into you.
“fuck. let me in, princess,” reiner’s grunt is low, throaty enough to make you clench. your flesh feels hot and your pussy’s leaking all over the coffee-brown suede seats. he knows well enough to play around with your clit, reveling in the noises you make when his pressure increases. simultaneously, his lips suction at the smooth flesh of your neck. it feels like you’re burning up, and he’s the only one who can quench your fire.
experimentally, his hips tilt forward, and another two inches make its way in. he’s only got his fat tip and then some past that dripping hole of yours, but it’ll take much more to stretch you wide open for him. he’s groaning and muttering all sorts of profanities— about how tight you are, how good you feel, how fucking nasty this is of you.
“c’mon, woman,” reiner sucks a sharp breath into his lungs, goading you on, “lemme fuck this tight pussy.” he’s got you dangerously aroused, done by the effort of a few dirty words. wetness dribbles down from your slit to the place you and reiner carnally join, slicking up his girthy shaft as he continues to break himself past your tight rings of muscle. you claw at his solid arms, basking in the stretch. his size is imposing, forcing you open to accommodate all of him. it burns in the best way possible.
“m—more, papa,” you make out a pretty whine, knowing just how he loves your begging. you’ve got your lips agape, kissed raw from reiner’s earlier advances. you grow restless and begin to rock your hips, aching to take the entirety of him.
“mm, don’t worry, baby. i’ll give it to you so good,” it takes a little more of reiner bucking his pelvis, movements careful and shallow, for him to finally make it in. he’s bottomed out, and you can feel the throbbing from his underside. having you wrapped around him feels so incredibly right. you clench rapidly, enveloping him in an incomparable warmth.
by the time he’s made everything fit, you’re a darling little mess. your hair’s gotten frizzy and your eyes are all big ‘n glassy, with your lower lip tucked underneath your teeth. one moan after another escapes you, streaming into his ears like liquid gold. reiner throbs at the sound of every little mewl. he licks away your tears which you hadn’t even known began to fall, catching them before they can roll down the apples of your cheeks. you love the feeling, it’s just that there’s so much of him to handle at once— his fat cock, searing-hot tongue, large roaming hands . . . he's this close to consuming you whole, and you want him to.
reiner’s attentive with the way he fucks you. out, in, the pattern goes, hips drawing back before he slams back into your shaking frame all over again. he hits so unbelievably deep every time, like the width of him can’t help but prod against every spot you have. he manages to stimulate every inch of your walls, bumping every crook and ridge possible. not a part of you goes unattended to. reiner dips his head low to catch your beaded nipple between his lips, while his cock drives further inside and impels you to make more room, just for him.
as gentle as he may try to be, reiner’s undeniably a hefty man. taking it slow won’t make any difference; every deep plunge he makes into your cunt has the car creaking on its very own wheels.
“i fuckin’ love you,” he drops the heated words, punctuated with drilling thrusts; but the dick’s got you goin’ all dumb on him. it’s cute, he can’t deny, but reiner needs you to know exactly what you mean to him. so he grips at your chin from either side and lightly squeezes your cheeks together, tender with care but steady enough to make your eyes uncross and focus on him alone.
“you hear me? i— goddamnit, love you more than anything. love you so much,” the deeper he pushes in, the less you can manage to breathe. you feel the pulsing of his cock in your tummy, and it’s like the tip snags so deep that it nearly lingers in your throat. you feel yourself bounce against the seat, tits jiggling whenever he sinks inside, draws out, and snaps right back into you. your gut feels tightly wound up, and your pussy’s become impossibly more sensitive.
you’re close, he can feel it. your walls flutter with more ardor than before, squishing against the base of him with a tightness gratifying enough to spur moans from deep within his chest. you even bring your hands down to claw at his asscheeks, firm and round to the touch; the perfect source of leverage.
“r— reiner!” you cry out to him, and he’s sure his name hasn’t sounded so good up until now. he wonders if you can actually hear yourself and just how slutty you sound. “you’re close, aren’t you, baby?” to that you nod, head bobbing desperately. you don’t have to tell him, he knows. reiner’s knowledge is keen on the topic of you. what you like, what you don’t, and when you’ve had enough. now he’s truly taking his sweet time getting to know you from the inside out.
he presses a consoling peck to your forehead, maintaining that undoing pace of his. the repetitive ‘plat’ of his heavy balls smacking into your sticky cunt is dull compared to the huffing, panting and whining, but it’s there in all its vulgarity.
“ooh, i know exactly what y’need, princess. papa’s g’na take care of you . . . ” reiner doesn’t even say it above a whisper, just declares his devotion in the softest way he can. he slips a hand down the middle of your sweat-streaked bodies to bring some attention back to your precious clit, lewdly slick and much puffier than earlier. he gives swift strokes using the pads of his fingers, combined with the fluid roll of his hips, until you're arching into his broad chest and snapping your quivering thighs closed, trapping his wrist in between them.
reiner can unravel you with such ease, like he lives for the sole purpose of your pleasure and nothing else. you convulse against him, so he slows. but reiner hardly lets up. not completely, that way he’s able to ride you through it. he continues on, feeding you shallow thrusts to near his own high. his movements turn borderline erratic; thighs trembling, cock throbbing. he’s so close, “gonna cum,” his warning comes off as a groan, straight from the depths of his gut, erotic and primal. he’s clenching his teeth again— this time, for good reason. “where do y’want me?”
not a second is wasted before you plead, ‘ inside! ’ and with that, you’ve officially fucking broken him. never did he think his wildest dream would’ve come true by the very first date. lucky mister braun, getting to fill you up— especially when it’s what he’s been stroking himself to the thought of every other night. now, you’re practically crying for him to give it all to you. undoubtedly, he will.
he comes through one final, sloppy jerk of his hips. with a breathy grunt released into the car’s stuffy atmosphere , his warm seed spurts into you, tainting your womb. once reiner slips out, his thick cum pours down to present the most obscene view. it’s all so slippery, seeping down until there’s a wet puddle of your and his making beneath your ass. reiner’s body goes lax, thoughtfully balancing himself over you with his face propped onto your boobs. it’s only now that he realizes, legs cramped up, that he’s a bit too large for the backseat.
“ . . . i meant what i said earlier.” reiner’s voice comes off muffled, with his face stuffed between your tits and all. he looks adorable this way, gazing up at you with his lips curled into a slight pout. his arms loop your waist, snug and secure.
“mm, you said a lot of things earlier,” is your soft laugh, recalling his crude mouth and how worked up it made you. he allows you to rake your nails through his short blonde fringes.
“applying for this gig is the best thing that’s ever fuckin’ happened to me,” reiner makes an attempt to sit upright and show his conviction, but he ends up with his back hunched over in the restrictive space. he disregards his comfort and reaches for your hands, clasping them in his own. “i said that i love you . . . and i mean it.” his words are airy. he’s still winded from the sex.
“and i love you,” you mean it, too. with all your being. you love him in a way you've never loved anybody else. mister braun keeps you safe, sprinkles you with compliments, slips on your heels for you, puts you first. he makes you feel like this pairing has a chance, like you don’t have to hide it. besides, he deserves your all. you should be proud to call him yours, and that you are.
reiner always wants your kisses. in the morning when you wake, right before dinner, and as you’ve recently discovered, after sex too. you’re always eager to receive his lips pressed to yours. “i love you,” reiner adds in between pecks. he now says it like it’s second nature— he loves you. it makes your heart leap from beneath your chest. he kneads your bare thighs in his palms, slowly gliding his tongue into your mouth. without shame, you moan against his lips. slivers of spit tether you both even after you part.
“i want everyone to know that we belong to each other, reiner . . . my family, too.” you admit, peering up at his handsome face through your curled lashes. you’ve got your hands planted at his chest, feeling at the solidity of his pecs.
“tonight?” he asks, tone unsure.
“yes, tonight, rei!”
he adores your sudden zeal for honesty. he truly does, but—
“maybe another day would work better, princess,” reiner muses, “when your parents wouldn’t kill me for all those hickeys on your neck.”
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©PINKMIRTH! . . . all rights reserved! do not steal, plagiarize or repost any of my works. please and thank you! ୨୧
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kissforyouu · 5 months
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finding your boyfriend sleeping in your hyperfeminine pink room ! <3
ෆ˙ ᵕ ˙ෆ
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pairing : jungkook x sanrio girl!reader
genre : fluff
warning : nothin just pure fluff ����🥰 , oc babies him , reader calls him princess , he calls her nicknames (baby/princess) , he sleeps on her tits
unedited.
exhausted, tired, that's what you were.
you just finished tutoring 2 little kids. one of them was an absolute angel sent from heaven to make your shift easier, but the other, oh god, that little she-devil. don't get me wrong, you still liked the other kid, but she can really become a handful at times. doesn't matter, at the end of the day you get paid and at least one of them learns something. right?
right now, all you could think of was about your boyfriend who should be at your home right now. your parents aren't home tonight, so you figured why not invite your boyfriend in and have the whole house for you and him.
cute, right?
speaking of cute, you clip your hair back up into a messy bun using your newly bought my melody hair clip. jungkook, your boyfriend, always liked the way your overgrown bangs fell down to frame your face. and he also made sure to buy you all of the cute little hair clips he saw, because he knew you liked cute stuff. hair clips, plushies, figurines, clothes, make up — you name it.
jungkook always called it childish, though. you found it funny. and cute. cause he always got you anything you liked, despite his thoughts on it. hehe.
you make your way through your living room silently, eyes scanning around trying to spot jungkook.
what would he be doing right now? it's 3.03pm, the clock read.
"gguk?" you murmur while nibbling on your lower lip — a habit of yours.
shrugging your shoulders, you hum a small melody to yourself while making your way to your room.
the first thing you notice the moment you open the door to your room was the fact that the A/C was on. that could mean only one thing.
your eyes shift to your bed to find your boyfriend practically suffocated and wrapped up with all your blankets around him.
your heart just—melted.
the sight of your big, buff, muscular boyfriend on your bed, wrapped up with your pink blanket with flowers all over them, curled up in a ball hugging your cinnamonroll pillow. (look at the header.) made your heart squeeze multiple times.
the sheets were covering him from his chin to downwards. so all that was visible was his head and the outline of his arms and legs—oh, aWWW! his toes were also peaking out due to the blanket being not big enough to cover his entire body.
if you listened carefully, you could hear his soft light snores escaping. you scrunch your nose up, letting out a small giggle.
he is so cute!
you quickly pull your phone out to take a few pictures of your boyfriend. you're so gonna tease him about this later.
you walk to your bed, sliding your slippers off slowly get on the bed. you measure each of your movements, not wanting to wake up the sleeping beauty on your bed.
coming to think of it, you were quite sleepy yourself.
laying next to your boyfriend, you grab one of your kuromi blankets and throw it over yourself. grabbing one of your plushys that were placed around the bed, you hug it close before throwing your arm over your boyfriend's figure.
snuggling your face into the junction of his neck and shoulder, you gently kiss it, then close your eyes.
。ₓ ू ₒ ु ˚ ू ₒ ु ₓ。
you squeeze your eyes, slowly opening them after. you had woken up after your lil nap. squinting your eyes, you look around— oh yeah! hehe. your boyfriend! he was still sleeping like a baby, making you snort a little.
suddenly, jungkook shifts positions and turns around to your side. he was still sleeping, but his eyes were slowly fluttering, adjusting to the light after a long nap.
jungkook opens his eyes, nose scrunching as he licked his dry lips.
"baby?" his voice sounded so crispy.
"slept well?" you tease.
"oh." jungkook groans, rubbing his eyes. he takes off my flower printed blanket off of him as he sits up on the bed. he doesn't let go of my cinnamonroll pillow though, hugging it closer to his stomach.
"stop it." jungkook rolls rolls his eyes.
"no, you were cute!" you giggle.
"yeah, yeah, whatever" he murmurs, looking away from you.
"mhmmmm..." you hum with a sarcastic tone.
"have you, uh, always had that poster? is it a new one?" jungkook asks. he scratches the back of his neck. clearly he's trying to change the topic. cute.
"mmm, no, i've always had it."
"ah, really? never noticed."
the air was awkward for a few seconds, then you break the silence with a giggle. stop he's so cute.
you sit up on the bed and scoot closer to jungkook, throwing your thigh over his to balance your body over him. he is still looking away, the little annoyed expression on his face making your heart squeeze over and over (in a good way!).
kissing his cheek once, twice, thrice ;
"awww, ggukie. i love you so much!" you coo.
jungkook groans, his hand flying to your face to push it back, but you see the small smile creeping up his face.
you laugh, pointing at his face.
"see!"
"shut uuuupp! i had no choice but to sleep in your little princess bed, okay?" you watch him lazily rub his face.
"it's okay. you're my princess after all." you smile.
jungkook lifts his eyebrow at you, the corner of his lip curling upto a smirk.
"yeah? what are you, then?"
"me? uhhh, could be your princess. we can be princesses together, kook."
you probably sound so stupid right now. doesn't matter, it's jungkook whom you're talking with.
jungkook leans forward to grab your wrists to pull you towards his chest. his palms sneak under your skirt to settle on your ass cheeks, pushing your whole body up. strong.
"gimme a kiss, princess."
happily, you cup his cheeks press a big fat kiss on his lips. you pull away just to kiss him again, tilting your head to the side to deepen the kiss. jungkook's palms rub your flesh, squeezing it.
he leans to give another small peck to your lips once you pull away.
"bubblegum lipbalm?"
"mmhm! bought it, uhhh, last week? i think."
jungkook hums, nodding his head.
"lay on the bed, 'm sleepy" he signals.
you squint your eyes, confused.
"but you just woke up? why're you sleepy again?"
"just am— ah, top off."
ohhhh.
you proceed to take off your top but leave your bra, then laying on the bed. jungkook smiles wide, settling himself in between your legs and his head on your right breast.
you giggle, loving this moment. you pull up the cute flower blanket of yours over the both of you to cover you both up. jungkook clutches onto your cinnamonroll pillow again, hugging it with his arm as he drifted to sleep.
"best sleep i'm ever gonna have..." he mumbles.
cute.
⸜(。˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝
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(photo from pinterest)
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things we hide from the light by lucy score 🌷💕
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xo-cod · 6 months
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Can you imagine that for some reason reason or another, that hyperfeminine! Reader has to be the tech analyst for not only their 141 boys but for KorTac as well? Or maybe something happened and she was temporarily transferred to KorTac?
Either the way, the 141 boys are not happy and KorTac is getting the sunshine treatment from hyperfeminine! Reader.
aww i know 141 and kortac are technically enemies but this was so cute LMAO 🤎 it's v rushed and ooc !!
when kortac goes low, simon goes lower ‼️
"when does she come back?" soap's annoyed voice cut through the air of the barracks as he slumped down on the couch in the living room. this would've been the normal time after a mission he would've headed to your room. partly to annoy you but also to spend time together after a long day. he hadn't noticed just how much he craved your company, just how much he needed it
"she just went, soap. she's gone for the next few weeks" gaz sighed as he leaned back against his seat, the thought of kortac having access to you was grinding on his nerves but this was your job. you were the best at what you did, they had to trust you to do your thing. though it didn't stop the anger from rearing its ugly head at whatever kortac were making you do
"i don't trust 'em, god knows what they're doin. they should hire their own technical analyst" ghost spoke coldly, already pulling out his phone wanting to dial your number. the slightest change in your tone and he was already jumping in his car to drive recklessly to you no matter what. even if he had threatened könig beforehand and had to be physically restrained, he would bury the german 6 feet under if a single strand on your pretty head was damaged
"easy lad. könig gave us his word-" price began but ghost cut him off with a scoff. "and we're supposed to trust him?? the good for nothing faceless bastard?" ghost retorted, making the captain raise his brow at his unusual behaviour
gaz had pulled up pictures of the team, looking at könig with a raised brow which had caught the attention of ghost who immediately stiffened up in anger. he pointed a long finger at the picture, cursing under his breath at könig
"christ i hate him. look at his hood. only wearing it because he's ugly and he knows it"
"lt... you wear a mask"
"yeah and i wear it better. so what's your bloody point johnny??"
meanwhile at kortac
"so what's this?" könig had taken interest in your little figures, in your weird little knick knacks that you carried around as you worked on your laptop to help them solve their issues.
"oh it's just a fidget toy i made of ghost. it's cute, isn't it?"
"it's very ugly. but you should make one of me :D"
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