just reread your rodrick x hyperfem reader AND IT HAS ME BACK INTO THE GOOD OLD CHOKEHOLD
so if you do still write for him (ignore if you dont <3) maybe some headcanons of them after the prom? 😋
(devon bostick is so FINE)
oh FUCK yes babes. lemme tell you something about roddy and hyperfemme reader. almost immediately after your song finishes and you lock lips in a kiss that rocks both your worlds and blows your minds, it's over for you. you're joint at the hip and locked at the lip every moment after that. both of your friend groups are pissed because whenever they're looking for you you're either sitting on Roddy's lap doing his eyeliner (and putting a little glittery highlighter here and there) or making out in the back of his van. you are completely a package deal, if someone wants one of you they are GOING to get both of you. after the last time roddy insisted on you sleeping in his room or threatening to run away and elope in vegas, Susan decided you know what? this could actually be a lot worse! at least most of Rodrick's energy (or lackthereof, please get this boy some antidepressants) is directed at you instead of harrassing his brother all the time. he still harasses Greg, but that's more of that brother stuff Susan doesn't know about. and that's how you in all your sparkly pink "what like it's hard?" lip glossed glory end up at the heffley's house more often than the actual heffleys.
Older boyfriend!bobby always let’s Hyperfeminine!Reader put ribbons and bows on him. Reader pins the bows on his suit jacket pocket, his shirt, or on his pants pocket but only when he has a campaign or speech to do. Ribbons are the ones Reader wraps around his wrist and tie into a bow for special events like gala’s, depending on what suit he’s wearing picks the color of ribbon he gets. “Alright darling what color matches” he’ll say as Reader pulls out a satin light blue ribbon.
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.
tags: typically feminine reader, wholesome fluff, established romantic relationship, silly & cute petnames
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"
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
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.”
I love your writing sooo much, was wondering if you could write a hyperfeminine reader × daryl one shot or sum like that!
ok apologies, this is actually Rick & Daryl x reader 🤭 if you have something slightly more specific for just Daryl I’m sure I can write it too💗
“I feel ridiculous.” Daryl grumbles, scrunching his nose as you place the white sheet mask over his face. The cold wet serum taking him by surprise as you use the pads of your manicured fingers to shape it to his skin. Smoothing out the little bumps and ridges.
“Well you look adorable.”
You hear Rick snort a laugh from the dresser, where he’s folding laundry neatly into their respective drawers.
“What?” You ask. Curious as to what could possibly be so funny.
“Oh- nothin, baby. He just needs some cucumbers on his eyes, then it’d be like a real spa.” Rick jokes, turning back around to fold another shirt.
“Hmm…” You turn back to Daryl, placing both palms on his chest. He must see the glimmer of idea in your eye and decides to shut it down real quick.
“No. No cucumber.”
“But-“
“No.”
“Ok. Fine.” Your brows furrow into a playful scowl at the man in front of you. He does look a little funny. White sheet mask clinging to his cheeks, only able to see his pretty lips and those ocean eyes.
You’re sitting on top of him. Thighs straddling his waist. Wearing a low cut tank top that cups your breast so delicately. Perky nipples peaking through the thin fabric. And when he lowers his gaze, he’s met with your tiny cotton panties. White ones with these little red hearts all over them. It is laundry day after all. And you’re panties are so perfectly pressed up against the bulge growing hard in his jeans. His hands are on your hips, rubbing mindless little circles onto your skin with his thumbs. And the feeling of your soft skin under his touch, really isn’t helping his situation.
“It’s too slimy.” He complains, one hand coming up to pick at the corner.
“Mkay… we can take it off if you really don’t like it. But just let me rub all this stuff in. Give you a little massage,” you explain, peeling the mask off his face by the corner and tossing it in the bin near the bed.
His skin is glistening wet as you take your fingertips, gently massaging the serum into his skin.
“You really gotta moisturize more. You’re already getting frown lines, D.” Your index finger traces the crease between his eyes.
Daryl can’t help the look he shoots towards Rick, who has to bite back his own smile at your amusing commentary.
Daryl sighs and shakes his head with a smirk. Gosh you two couldn’t be more opposite. Him, dressed in all black and leather. Rough and quiet and even a little mean at times. But you… well you’re perfect. To him at least. To anyone really. Not only with the way you look. Always prim and proper. Frills and bows adorning your flirty sundresses and mini skirts. But the way you act too, regardless of all the shitty situations you and everyone else has been through. You remain bright and kind and soft and sweet and there’s no one else who’d say any different. And there’s definitely no one else who he’d let baby him the way you do. The way you coddle him and cling to him non stop. The fact that you’re giving him an at home “spa treatment”… that alone is enough to prove how much he likes you. How much he adores you. If it were anyone else, he’d tell them to fuck right off. But not you. Not his perfect, pretty princess. The only one who can make him melt into putty the second you get your hands on him.
You can feel his hips slowly gyrating underneath you. A distracted and mindless attempt to catch the littlest bit more friction against you. His cock twitches as his blown pupils linger on the swell of your breasts.
“D,” you scold, eyes going wide and displaying your bashfulness. Though Daryl doesn’t seem to care. Eyes darting up to meet yours as he pulls his lip between his teeth. Biting back his smile at getting caught.
“Sorry,” his gaze shifts to the man behind you; An unspoken invitation.
Soon enough, you feel Ricks knee dip into the mattress, planting himself behind you both, and pressing a sweet kiss to your shoulder. Hands resting right above Daryl’s on your waist.
“You two almost done over here?” His kisses move up to your neck while Daryl’s hands make their way to your ass, pulling gently and forcing you to start rocking back and forth.
You let out a sigh, tipping your head back and basking in the attention from both men.
“Think we could probably take a break…” you breath out, pleasant tingles starting to erupt down your spine at their combined touches.
Daryl pulls at the band of your underwear, the elastic snapping back against your skin, making you jolt foreword with a gasp.
Both him and Rick let out a huff of amusement. Pulling on the thong yet again. Getting their hint across as clear as day.
“Why don’t you take these off and let us give you a real massage, huh?”
