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#୨୧ — isla writes
pinkmirth · 10 months
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begging you for more cowboy reiner smut 🧎🏾‍♀️
i’m absolutely loving the way y’all adore cowboy rei-rei as much as i do! 😩 im currently working on lengthier fics/requests for him, but im gonna spew out some of the dirty lil thoughts i have in the meantime:
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this farmboy is a nasty man, i tell you! cowboy!reiner can, and will, take you at any given time of day. to him, every location on this barn is a suitable place to fuck. sometimes he’ll dick you down near the hay bales, or six-nine with you in the little cottage that he hand-built last summer; hell, he’ll even raw-dog you in the goddamn kitchen on his momma’s favorite countertop— he doesn’t care. he’s always this close to bending you over the counter, pulling down his custom denim jeans and making a complete and total mess out of you. though the rounds are satisfying, they usually go by fast ‘cause he knows he’s got chores to get back to afterwards. that’s why he fucks you like it’s the end of the world— no time to waste when you need to feed the cattle by 3pm, right? rei-rei’s a feen for quickies, okay! then later on, when the day’s work is done and he finally has time to himself, he’ll use the opportunity to handle you thoroughly, and do all the things he didn’t have the time for earlier. by the next morning, you’re still feeling the linger of him on your body. the dull ache around your hips reminds you of the countless positions he folded you into, all his dirty words . . . quite a nasty man, indeed!
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pinkmirth · 1 year
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What do you think Reiner and his s/o would argue about in a relationship? I can't imagine it would last long
BACK TALK, reiner braun !
SYNOPSIS — just a fluffy lil drabble about reiner wanting to take care of you. he doesn’t want to argue, but you’re just so stubborn…
CONTAINS — 1k words of . . . fluff, fem!reader (black coded), “girly-girl” reader, reiner feeds you, lowercase intended, just sappy stuff with this caring gentleman <3 (kinda sorta self indulgent!)
this is a tough one, nonnie…. only because maturity is reiner’s best attribute! picking a problem with you is the last thing this man wants to do, and he’s very slow to anger. you’re right about any disputes not lasting long! even if he tried, reiner can’t stay mad at you.
the most that could happen between you and him are petty squabbles about preferences, something dumb like waffles over pancakes! the pair of you ultimately laugh it off and end up cuddling once all is said and done. It’s hard to envision a topic that could stir such a reaction from him to the point where he’s arguing with you. i think the only thing that would get him going back and forth in an “argument” is if he’s worried about you, but you decide to be stubborn with him.
for instance, you’re tired and have been studying all day, and he just wants you to allow yourself to relax. but! you’re persistent on finishing up your assignments. he’d probably grow upset and insist that you deserve a break . . . (veryyy self indulgent ‘cause i’ve been studying for a gajillion tests lately!)
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dull thuds of reiner’s heavy footsteps upon carpet announce his entrance into your room. he strolls around your cozy little home-desk, the one he helped you build a couple months back when the school semester first began. it’s adorned in sanrio stickers galore and polaroid pictures of you and him, nostalgic square photos secured with baby-pink thumbtacks. reiner circles you with a brooding silence, flitting his eyes from the slideshow on your laptop screen to your scribbled notes. you feel him linger behind your chair, but opt on saying nothing.
“baby, c’mon…” reiner calls out, his tone borderline pleading, “you’ve been here for hours.” from behind your seat, he inches in until he’s close enough to rest his weighty hands on your stiffened shoulders. reiner’s warm palms rub along the junction of your neck. it’s helping— he can see it in the way your body slackens in your swivel chair.
“i gotta prep for tomorrow’s test,” his touch brings you to release a lax hum, but you don’t allow yourself to dwell on it for long. the fleeting moment of bliss he provides ends too soon, as you smooth out your oversized baby-pink tee-shirt and begin to refocus on your work.
“have you eaten?” he asks. the shake of your head brings about his frown. you could surely get your work done without depriving yourself of basic needs… all he wants is for you to be well taken care of. “no, not yet.” you spare him a glance before looking back over your laptop.
reiner’s hand shoots out, grabbing your chair and turning you halfway-round to face him. the closeness of his face to yours makes it seem like the perfect opportunity to press your lips to his and linger there for a while. instead, you remain still, choosing a safer route by stealing glances of his handsome attributes. your eyes run across his prominent collarbone peeking through his low-neck sweatshirt, the slight clench of his firm jaw, most especially the raw concern swimming in his honey-golden eyes. “why not?” reiner questions, with his brows drawn tight in worry. you whirl back around, for the sake of your own resolve.
“because i’m studying, reiner.”
“no, you’re cramming.” he corrects. reiner can read you like a damn storybook; it’s almost as though he knows you more than his very own self. “at least i’m drinking water,” you raise a bottle from your desk for emphasis. water sloshes in the cylindrical confines as you set it back down, “happy?”
reiner rolls his tongue and prods at his inner cheek. he decides to pay no mind to your little attitude. “water’s fine, but you need food.”
“a meal would be too heavy for me... i’d probably end up falling asleep.” you haphazardly shoo his suggestion, scribbling bullet points onto your notebook.
“so a snack would be better, then? your favorite fruit is in the fridge downstairs.” reiner turns on his heel, intent on coming back with a bowl of nicely-cut strawberries and mangoes. you reach out, clasping onto him forearm before he zips out of your room and descends the flight of stairs. “it’s okay, reiner.” you assure. the ends of your manicured nails ghost his wrist.
“is it really? ‘cause it’s hard to believe that you don’t want me to get anything at all.” he quirks up a thin brow as he says it. reiner knows just how much you need his support— you’re simply choosing to act like you don’t.
“i’ll get somethin’ to eat later, i promise.” with the twirl of your ballpoint-pen, you’re back to writing. this is his third time checking up on you, and you give him the same answer with every visit. all this stubbornness has gone on long enough.
“you may be busy, but you’re also tired.” he's quick to snatch the pen from your hands, right in the middle of you scrawling a sentence onto lined paper. “hey! reiner, give it—”
“nuh-uh. stop bein’ difficult about it.” he plants a large hand onto the back of your macbook and shuts it closed. you do an over-exaggerated huff, make a pout, throw in a bratty eye roll— he doesn’t care for it. what you need is to allow him take care of you. he can’t let his darling work herself to death, now can he? not in a literal sense, but he wouldn’t forgive himself for allowing this to continue.
“i’ll be right back, okay? and for the love of god, don’t open that goddamn laptop.” he makes his leave. you hear the faint hum of a microwave. it doesn’t take long for him to return, with a steaming plate of food in hand. reiner takes joy in replacing that stupid notebook of yours with the reheated dinner that he cooked up for you over an hour ago.
he pulls up a seat, scoots in close, and brings a hot forkful up to your mouth. “don’t argue. just eat, baby.”
this sly man knows that it’s your favorite food. you have no energy left to brush him off. finally, you give in. with a soft ‘ah’, you allow reiner to feed you. there’s a satisfied gleam in his eye as he stuffs your mouth with bite after bite.
“it’s good?” he softly asks. you cover your mouth while chewing, giving him a sheepish nod. “mm-hm.”
“you feel better, don’t you?” reiner nudges your shoulder with his broader one. you don’t try to fight the smile overtaking your lips. “i do…” you relent, looping your arms around his neck. he firmly hugs you in one arm, and uses his unoccupied hand to hold onto the ceramic plate. over half of the food’s gone.
he hears your quiet, sincere ‘thank you’ murmured into his chest, feels your frame relax against his. “good.” reiner sighs into your hair. he wants you to put yourself first, every single time. “that’s good.”
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pinkmirth · 1 year
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MUSCLE MOMMY MIKASA . . !
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mikasa’s the kind of girl who doesn’t draw the slightest granule of attention. she keeps to herself and stays unnoticed, sitting at the very back of the lecture hall. she lives in her own little bubble, with chunky headphones blasting indie rock into her piercing-adorned ears. mika subtly taps along the desk with ink-black stiletto acrylics, shortened black bangs swaying over her steel-gray eyes. in truth, you hardly see much of mikasa ackerman outside of classes, aside from catching notice of her long patterned skirts and striped long sleeves when she’s walking to the library or grabbing lunch at the mess hall with eren and armin.
on an especially productive day, you head for the university gym to break a sweat and make progress on building your glutes. it’s upon arrival that you see mikasa, toned body sheen with sweat. exercises that would be considered strenuous to others, she pushes through with the utmost ease. it’s your first time seeing her in a sports bra, and you’re close to audibly gasping— has she always been this fucking ripped? you never would’ve thought that such a defined pack of tight abs belonged to her. it must be the magical work of all the layered clothes that cover up her physique and leave you none the wiser. you’re almost entirely sure that she has just as much muscle as the campus jock, reiner.
in awe, you eye the flex of her thick thighs with every hip thrust she does. you can hardly focus on the lateral raises you’re supposed to be doing, especially with all your attention being fixed on mikasa as she pumps over two-hundred pounds of weight. you question whether or not she can feel your hot stare running across her sightly stature, drinking in her solid biceps and perfectly round glutes. more importantly, you’re wondering if she’d be okay with doing you the favor of pulling you into a nice, firm chokehold . . .
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pinkmirth · 1 year
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Moni Mo Stick with me here but imagine Space Cadet! Reiner and Reader. Like they're both in competition with each other to finish school first to rub it in each others face that they got their ship and crew first. And fast forward when they finally got their crew they find time to sabotage each others mission.
hii indie 💕! I’m loving this prompt right now fren 😩 let’s get into the space stuff!!!
you and reiner are constantly neck-and-neck, trying to one-up the other like a bad, unbreakable habit. it often led other cadets to believe there’s some sort of… romantic tension brewing, underneath all the bragging and contempt.
You round the corner of the halls of Astro Corp, making sure to approach Reiner just as he leaves his Engineering class. Your eyes rake across his tall, brawny form. That deliciously fitting, navy-colored space force uniform hugs his biceps in the rightest of ways; not that you’d ever openly admit it.
Your shoulder intentionally bumps at him. “It’s you.” He scoffs. That’s just yours and Reiner’s unique form of greeting. His sideways smile, surrounded by neat blonde stubble, looks as teasing as ever. It’s hard to distinguish whether it comes from a sense of rivalry or admiration.
“I completed my Astronaut Candidate Program.” you make sure that your tone is jabbing as you announce it. That proud grin of yours is enough to make his heart double over.
“Oh?” Reiner prods his tongue at his inner cheek. The cunning blonde grins, like he knows something you don’t— like he’s playing along. “Did you, now?”
“Mhm. I’m even part of the crew for the next expedition. Don’t miss me too much when I’m gone.” To that, he laughs. It’s low and borderline mocking. You hate just how much you love the sound.
“What’s funny?” You click your teeth. He regains himself, head shaking. “Please,” he cocks his head slightly to the left, a mannerism you noticed in him since your early cadet days. “Guess who’ll be leading the crew.”
Your mouth goes agape. His cocky little grin is annoyingly attractive. “It can’t be— it’s you?” He always found a way to counter any achievement of yours. Of course, you always found a way to do it right back. A never-ending cycle.
“Guess we’re both goin’ places,” Reiner sighs. “I just wonder,” He leans in, closer until you can see the specks of green in his golden irises. “How many accomplishments can I rub in your pretty little face before graduation?”
He knows just how to fluster you. Your heart picks up and you can’t get it to relax. But to your delight and his dismay, you don’t openly lose composure. All he gets is the roll of your eyes as response. “Oh, screw you, Braun.” you seethe, but it’s playful. “You’re too busy trying to flirt with me to get anything done.”
That surely pulls a reaction from him. He begins to deny with snark, and you retaliate. This happens all the time, but you and him never tire of it. You’re beautifully menacing to each others in your own special little ways.
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pinkmirth · 8 months
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i have to write something for suguru one of these days . . . a good wife ought to curate literary porn for her beloved husband!
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pinkmirth · 9 months
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still workin’ on updating my links, please be patient with me during this time!
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pinkmirth · 2 years
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moni!!! do you have any reibert threesome thoughts!!! or even just poly reibert thoughts in general, sfw or nsfw!!! they are my boyfriends and I love them!!!
you’ve come to the right place, nonnie :) I’ve got many many many thoughts abt these two, they plague my mind 24/7 !!!
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pairing: reiner x f!reader x bertholdt
summary: just a smutty drabble to fulfill the desires of reibert lovers everywhere!
content + warnings: nsfw/smut, modern au, poly themes, fingering, vaginal penetration, unprotected sex, blowjob, female bodied reader, all characters are of age (18+), minors DNI!!!
word count: 2k
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— they give the best nose kisses! okay now onto the porn 😩
just imagine getting intimate with a duo like reiner and bertholdt. literal ecstasy. they’re both so endearing and patient, and it’s always their goal to smother you with love.
you plant messy kisses onto reiner’s agape lips and suck splotches of love bites across bertl’s pulse point, the lot of you eager to find a room. you wind up splayed across the bed, both men hovering at either side of you. bertholdt’s subtle grin is the last thing you catch onto before he bunches up your top, shoving it above your tits.
he leans low, face leveled with your chest. “no bra?” his sultry voice is hardly above a whisper. he exhales with desire, breath fanning your skin, while reiner’s golden eyes stick to your form. his sharp gaze brings about the shiver of anticipation that tears through you.
“you’re so fuckin’ pretty.” mumbles reiner. he flashes a handsome smirk, one that contrasts with his usually modest nature. bertholdt sucks in a breath before placing his hot mouth onto your right breast, prying a pretty moan from you. he hums against your skin, swirling his tongue just the way you like it.
reiner follows suit, lowering himself until he’s toying with your perked nipple, trapping it between his lips. his large hand slides underneath your back, coarse fingers tracing your spine and leaving heat in its wake. you arch right up into their mouths as they grasp your tits in their warm palms.
both of their ardent stares are trained on you as they aim to please. rei and bertl aren’t the type to get competitive with one another; but during moments like these, they can’t help but race for your attention.
“fuck, you’re perfect.” with adoration, bertholdt swears. he hardly ever swears. bertl kisses around the swell of your breast, releasing a content hum when your fingers lace into his dark tresses. meanwhile, reiner busies himself by snaking a hand down your body and between your thighs, flattening his tongue to broadly lick down your sternum, his stubble grazing your flesh.
you whimper over the fervid burn of their touch, knee-deep in all the affection. softly, desperately, you begin to buck your hips, grinding against reiner’s hand. he cups your clothed cunt with his large palm, chuckling through his nose. you know what he’s thinking; probably something about how slutty and needy you get for him.
“you want me there, hm?” reiner speaks low, trapping his bottom lip under his teeth. there’s a salacious rasp to his voice, pure yearning laced within his words, “down your panties? inside you?”
your eyes lock with his lust-blown ones. you know how much he likes when you beg, plead for him in the most vulgar ways. “yes, rei. fuck my pussy, please.”
reiner gives in— but not entirely. “I hear you, baby,” he scoots aside for bertholdt to take his position, the taller man kneeling between your legs. “bertl’s gonna prep you first, m’kay?”
you watch bertholdt grasp at the hem of his navy-colored sweater and pull it off of his lean frame. it’s expected— considering how much of a mess you can make, especially when his skilled digits are delved into your walls.
he hooks his grasp onto your bottoms, giving you a knowing look. you can tell what he wants, so you do it: rising your lower half off the bed. he then drags the clothes past  your hips and off your body until it meets the floor.
all that’s left are those tiny little panties of yours. before long, reiner’s abruptly tearing them apart. while he rips and tugs, you can feel splintering threads tickle your thighs.
before long, you’re fully revealed in all your bare glory, and they just can’t manage to tear their hungry eyes away from you.
“c’mon, sweetie,” bertl shoots you the most saccharine smile, prying your legs apart, “open.” your thighs part to unveil your pussy lips sheen with arousal. he touches along your gaping cunt, relishing in the way your tightness would pulse against the pads of his fingers. he gathers your wetness and drags his digits upwards, lathering your clit and rubbing you out.
you whine aloud— it’s dulcet and naughty. the sound of your voice alone gets his dick throbbing in his pants. bertl’s swift in his motions when his lengthy finger dips into your cunt, curling upwards, knuckle-fucking-deep.
he’s too good at this; just one slim digit of his has you writhing against the sheets. profanities spill past your lips with every flick of bertl’s wrist, his other hand smoothing along your inner thigh. reiner starts to make himself useful; he plays with your soft mounds and flicks at your nipples, bearing a tiny grin. all the while, bert prods another finger past your sopping opening, now using two to feel along your walls and stretch you out just a little.
with the way bertholdt’s fingering your needy pussy, it doesn’t take much for you to cum. he’s left with drenched fingers and a painfully obvious hard-on. you peer up at him with lidded eyes and a sensual smile as he helps you ride through the climax, gracing your clit with the swipe of his thumb.
bertl then turns to the side, bringing soiled fingers up to reiner’s mouth. the other hand grips at his stubbled chin, in a way that’s gentle but firm. “taste,” bertholdt breathes out. reiner obliges. he takes the slim fingers into his mouth, licking your arousal clean off of them. it’s light and tangy, downright obscene more than anything else. bertholdt’s more than satisfied as he watches, infatuation swirling in his pale green irises.
reiner briskly inhales, pressing a chaste kiss to bert’s lips before maneuvering around to lean over your body. “he made you feel good, yeah?” his hands are set on both sides of your waist. you nod, relishing in the sensation of his warm palms rubbing back and forth. “good... my turn.” he’s cocky when he says it— his tone easily gives off just how eager he is to ruin you.
button after button, reiner undoes them until he can slip off his pesky shirt, drawing his arms out from each sleeve until his upper half is bare. he knows you like the view, given how he runs a hand down his body, from his firm chest down to his pelvis.
you drag your gaze all over him; eyeing his taut muscles and brawniness. you’re shameless with how you stare at his dirty-blonde happy trail, and that filthy glare of yours incites him to hastily undo his belt.
reiner likes— no, loves to escalate things. it’s obvious with how he wastes little time in kicking off his pants and pulling out his cock. he gives himself a languid pump, briefly bucks into his hand once or twice before grabbing your legs from the bed, setting each one upon his broad shoulders.
he kisses your calves, and you can feel the curve of his lips spreading into a smirk. his hands smooth along your legs as he slots his cock between your pussy lips, shallowly thrusting against your puffy cunt. you whine. it isn’t enough. “reiner…” to that, he emits a chuckle.
“fine, fine.” he gives one more teasing motion, taking hold of himself and tapping the head of his length against your engorged clit. with that, he presses past your gaping hole and fucks himself into you. “fuckin’ tight…” reiner utters. he groans, and you gasp. you can only find it in yourself to clutch the sheets at either side of your head.
reiner grips at your legs and picks up speed, drawing his cock back and pushing it forth, a light smack emitting with every roll of his sturdy hips. you pulse at the sensation of an especially orgasmic thrust, clenching down and pulling a sharp hiss from him. you breathe out, glossed lips agape.
you catch onto light footsteps and the rustle of the bedsheet. you impel yourself to flutter your eyes open, just be met with bertholdt’s cock; hard, smeared with precum, and bobbing right before your face. he peers down at you, eyeing how your pillowy boobs sway every time reiner fucks himself into your heat, arousal smeared upon your inner thighs and making a mess of reiner’s balls.
bertl brings his fingers towards your agape mouth, thumbing your bottom lip. he uses his unoccupied hand to jerk himself, hand swirling at the tip. “can you handle me too, baby?” his subtle voice stays sounding innocent. it’s ironic how he uses that same soft tone to ask you to swallow his dick.
you’re impatient, turning your head to the side and prodding out your tongue. he tsks, setting his digits in your mouth instead. bertholdt can feel your tongue squirm against his fingers when you suck them. he smiles, reverting his fingers out and slipping the head of his throbbing cock in.
your cheeks hollow, tongue running along the underside of him. “oh, that’s it,” his moans are faint and sweet. with a gentle touch, he holds your head in place and uses your mouth, chest rising and falling whenever your throat would constrict around him. bertl’s pace is slow in contrast to reiner, whose hips are moving a little bit faster.
reiner ogles your lips sliding along bert’s length. he loves the way you choke and spit all over the dick— it makes him fucking shudder. he takes in the lewd sight with an intent gaze and curses aloud, digging his girth further into you, your needy hole swallowing him up at each thrust.
his fingers press into your calves as he angles his hips, speedier in fucking your cunt deep. you grip against  him perfectly, to the point where there’s a stutter in his fervent movements.
you pull yourself off of bertholdt, kissing at his tip before diving back down. you release a gag, throating him sloppily, messily. you’ve got both men panting your name, all the while reiner murmurs on about how well you take them. “goddamnit,” he hisses, cheeks flushed red.
“look at you, baby… you love this, don’t you?” reiner huffs out every word. he sees the way your toes are curling above his shoulders, and it brings a subtle grin to his face. then his gaze flits down, marveling at how easily he’d slip into you, the way you accommodate every inch of him. he looks into your eyes, taking note of the dewy tears of pleasure building up at your lash line. “yeah, you fuckin’ do.”
reiner lays a hand on your tummy and presses down, urging for your second climax to intensify faster. you jolt, moans stifled around bertholdt’s cock. you arch from the bed, a delicious tension pooling in your gut. reiner does all but grin, flashing the smile of a proud bastard when you cum all over him, wetting his pelvis and soiling the sheets below you.
whenever your orgasm hits, just know that rei and bert are soon to follow. the two of them begin to slow; reiner’s got his eyes screwed shut, releasing the sluttiest of groans into the atmosphere, and bertholdt’s twitching in your mouth, head thrown back. their climaxes are bound to wash over them, so you do more. it’s purposeful when you clench against the meat of reiner’s throbbing cock, and there’s vigor in the way you push bert further down your throat, spit smearing your lips and trickling down your chin.
reiner feels the entirety of his body tense up, and his hips go still. he reverts back and pulls out; barely though, his thick cum littered across your abdomen. he heaves, a jumble of your name and incoherent words tumbling out his mouth. before long, bertholdt’s releasing onto your tongue, smacking his cockhead against your pursed lips and dirtying them with his release.
you sigh deeply, going lax on the bed. they take the courtesy of cleaning you up, wiping you down and getting you comfy. you’re tired, but content. bertl interlaces his fingers with yours, pressing a kiss to your hand, while reiner litters your cheeks with sweet little pecks. you can feel him smile against your skin.
between the three of you, it’s always a beautiful mess.
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pinkmirth · 2 years
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I LOVE YOUR BLOG SO MUCH WTFFF oh my god if you’re taking requests some bertholdt bf hcs + smut would be much appriciated
THANK YOU SM NONNIE 💕! bertl’s the sweetest guy ever and I just wanna lather him in kisses :) here’s a cluster of headcanons for him because he deserves it <3
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— bertholdt hoover headcanons.
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pairing: bertholdt hoover x f!reader
summary: a combination of fluff (and) smutty headcanons for bert!
content + warnings: sfw content, nsfw/smut, all characters are aged up (18+), somnophilia, size kink, oral (female and male receiving), female bodied reader, minors DNI with the nsfw segment of this post!
word count: 800+
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( SFW! )
his body always feels really warm. bertl’s literally a walking heater. considering this, you have no clue why he’s always wearing long sleeves and fluffy sweaters.
has tons of coins in his pockets. tell this mf to get a piggy bank because you can hear all his loose change jangling around whenever he walks :0
he’s a menace in his own way ‘cause he can sleep in just about anything. dude gets so tired that he casually ends up falling asleep in something like jeans…
adding onto this by saying that he falls asleep anywhere. a simple park date between the two of you results in him dozing off on a bench.
bertholdt does pottery! he’s made a whole set of plates, bowls, vases and mugs for your kitchen and it's the sweetest thing ever.
this man cracks his fingers a lot. he just be poppin’ them hoes all the time.
he has really long lashes; to be more specific, bertholdt just the prettiest eyes ever. the soft look in his pale green irises makes him seem so sweet.
he’s accidentally kicked a child before… in his defense, with his height he could hardly see the poor kid 😭
for whatever reason, he isn’t very fond of armin. (because you were dared to kiss the blonde at a party and he hasn’t let it go since :/)
bertl loves applesauce. don't ask why, he just does.
he acts as though you guys aren’t an official couple sometimes, it's as if he’s still in the crush phase. like, he’ll get all flustered when you shoot him a nice compliment, or if there’s the slightest hint of physical contact between you, he’s blushing like a middle schooler that’s got a bad case of puppy love. he just can’t seem to get used to the affection. you’re just like ‘haven’t we been dating for forever now???’
he falls for people really easily, love at first sight type shit. it’s probably rooted in his yearn for others to truly acknowledge him.
bertholdt is extremely (scarily) punctual. he prefers going somewhere an hour early rather than a minute late.
gets annoyed really easily, but lets things go even quicker. you could watch him roll his eyes over something and he’s smiling a second later like boy I thought you were mad 😭!?!??
he’s adopted the habit of putting his feet on you just to mess with you. it’s annoyingly cute.
he’s always beside you. it’s that he’s either latched onto your arm, or standing behind you with his hand on your hip. bertl’s so touchy and doesn’t even notice it, he just wants to be close to you. he’s the literal epitome of following someone around like a lost puppy.
loves to wrap his arms around your torso. he feels big and confident when encircling your middle and pulling you close to him, and he utterly loves how you lean into him. he just absorbs your warmth with red-tinted cheeks and a rapidly beating heart.
( NSFW! )
this man goes crazy for (consented!) somnophilia. whether it be on you or him, he doesn’t care— he just loves it.
you commonly wake up to his pussy-drunk self making out with your cunt. he scrutinizes your expressions, takes in your breathy moans, peering up at you with such pleading eyes. he’s begging you to let go, to cum in his mouth. he lets out the lewdest sounds when you finally release, drinking up your essence and licking you clean.
and when you surprise him with a blowjob while he’s asleep? that’s what he likes to call paradise. once he wakes, he's growing stiff against your spit-lathered lips, softly moaning over the lazy pump of your hand running against his shaft. climaxes so fast that it’s practically embarrassing. he dirties your face with his cum, his chest heaving and face painted with scattered blush.
absolute king at fingering omgg!!! he knows how to put those lithe fingers to work. just one digit can make a total mess out of you.
his happy trail is a beauty to behold. whenever his lean frame is revealed, you can’t tear your eyes away from his pelivs. just yes.
big dick bertholdt!!!!!!!!! must I say more?
he hits so fucking deep, I don’t think he realizes how big he is. the shallowest thrust from him is already hitting your guts like damn. he’ll never get over how he’s able to make you to fall apart so quickly.
SIZE KINK SIZE KINK SIZE KIIINK! did I say size kink? because he fucking loves that. having sex with you really opens his eyes to how big he is. because fuck, how is he able to tower over you so easily? he’d never admit to how cocky it makes him; being able to bend you to his will, with the help of his huge hands, convincing smile, and long fucking cock.
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pinkmirth · 2 years
Text
— overtime | nanami kento
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pairing: corporate!nanami kento x fem!reader
summary: DAY (ONE) OF KINKTOBER ~ who knew that working after hours with your manager would end up with your panties on the floor?
content warnings: nsfw/smut, makeshift bondage with a tie, dirty talk, coworker sex, cunnilingus, use of feminine pet name (good girl), unprotected sex, female bodied reader with g/n pronouns, all characters are (18+), minors dni!
word count: 3.2k
a/n: kink(s): bondage!
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You’d usually be done with work by now. 5PM hits and you’re making your way out of the corporate building, beelining towards the nearest train ride home.
That’s why you find the situation you're in to be so unintended— working after hours, all for the sake of your sexy manager.
Files upon files make a mess of Nanami’s desk, and you aid him by looking through every single paper in need of inspection. Your glossed lips stretch wide to release a yawn, and it only causes a chain reaction. Kento gives in to the contagious set of yawns overtaking him. You glance his way, watching how he rubs at his temple with lithe fingers.
“You should've gone home.” his tired eyes flit your way, and you find yourself utterly melting at the sight of his deep brown irises. Somehow, you find a way to keep composed. “But you’d be all alone if I did,” you counter, flashing the slightest grin. You can't deny that he’s right, though. You had all the opportunity to make your way home, yet you opted on working overtime to help Nanami with his strenuous workload.
He swirls a ballpoint pen between his slim digits before setting it down. “... you have a point,” he gives in, the corners of his mouth upturning ever so slightly. You're not exactly able to say that it’s a smile. More like a silent chuckle.
Maybe it’s your admiration for him that’s talking, but there’s some sort of undeniable connection between the both of you, and being alone with him only makes it clearer. It’s like that of a subtle craving— where you yearn to sink your teeth and burn your touch into something that’s completely off-limits.
Kento exhales, then looks at you for a solid moment or more. You're unsure as to why his gaze is so trained on you, and not even five seconds pass before you’re so close to wavering underneath the pressure. You wish he’d just look away already, so he won't be able to catch onto the flattered smile overtaking your features. He’s seated at the head of the desk while you’re perched right across from him; meaning that the eye contact’s practically unavoidable.
“You’ve been a great help to me today,” his words are simple as can be, yet you’ve never felt so complimented in your entire life. You can't determine whether he’s genuinely voicing his gratitude for your assistance, or if he’s making something of an attempt at flirting.
When he does a subtle lean forward, you decide that it’s the latter. You go quiet, lips pressed shut. You can't help the intense thrum of your heart when he’s peering at you with such solace; like you’re his definition of relief, the answer to all his problems.
“You’re always going the extra mile. I’m impressed, y’know.” Kento’s voice goes low, his volume as intimate as a whisper. He leans even further, and the prominence of his cheekbones and structured nose is all the more attractive up close.
He can tell— you want this. To overstep the boundaries between a manager and employee until the line between is permanently blurred. To get so entangled that you see him as your source of pleasure rather than some stereotypically mingy boss.
You take a soft, borderline shaky inhale. His scent leaves you thinking of smoothly flat-ironed dress shirts, pricey cologne and first-class trips to France. His free hand snakes towards yours, gently grasping your palm. He’s slow with his motions, but it surely isn't hesitance. It’s pure desire.
You find yourself going weak over his mere touch. The pads of his fingers grazing your skin feels like heaven itself. Before you’re able to get too lost in the moment, you think, ‘Why hook up with your boss of all people?’
Sure, the pair of you are coworkers. Funnily enough, neither of you can bring yourselves to care. With the way his breath softly puffs onto your lips, it's obvious that you're way past professionalism. The tip of his straight nose grazes yours, and you lightly gasp at the narrowing proximity. Whatever he’s initiating, all you know is you’ll give in without question.
When combining burnout, pining, and two exhausted adults with a libido as high as the stack of papers on the desk, you get this— Nanami’s large hand cradling your neck to pull you in, lips eagerly meeting with no regret.
You’re pleasantly surprised when he presses his mouth on yours with sheer need, swallowing the moans out of your mouth and planting the hottest kisses upon your agape lips. Your teeth bumb and click, tongues enveloping the other’s messily. It’s nothing short of surreal to be making out with the man you dream about, hands grasping at his forearms like your life depends on it.
You've surely imagined a moment like this with him; piping hot love-making between colleagues, all within a bland-walled office. Everyone’s heard of the trope in one way or another— but the ecstasy that comes with breaking that professional barrier was greater than you imagined.
You're both short on breath when drawing away from each other, lips sheen with saliva. He’s quick with pecking your lips, forehead resting against your own. “You want this?” he queries, voice hoarse with raw arousal. The consequences don’t come to mind when you voice out your genuine crave for his touch. “Yes, Nanami,” you whine to him. Before you make another plea, he’s made his way around the table and is at your side, taking firm hold of your hips and setting you onto the desk, papers and pens of all sorts cast aside.
“You’ve been doing so well, working so hard...” he perches himself between your legs, breathing his words aloud beside your ear. He crouches to his knees, dark brown eyes peering up into your lust-blown ones.
His hands trail down your hips, kneading at your sides through your clothing. He wants to repay the favor for all your efforts, so you let him. A bashful nod is just what he needs to go on, his fingers taking hold of the zipper of your bottoms until he’s shimmied them down your thighs and past your ankles, your pencil skirt now strewn across the ground.
It’s dim in his office, a warm orange-ish light that hardly illuminates a thing. Despite that, he can still make out the wet patch on your arousal-stained panties. He lets out the briefest chuckle over the sight, the pads of his fingers inching up your inner thighs.
Kento’s touch is feather-light, a contrast to his sharp gaze. His fingers curl around the hem of your panties, dragging them further and further down, his eyes on you all the while.
His actions leave you a mess, and he hasn’t even buried his face into your most intimate areas yet. Then, he does it— briefly licking his lips moments before diving face-forward into your dripping pussy. The first stroke of his swift tongue on your sensitive clit feels so right. You’ve needed this bad.
“Oh, fuck,” you release a breathless moan, and it stirs him up from the inside out. His big hands grab at the meat of your hips, all in an attempt to drag you closer to his agile mouth, to lap at you some more. His dick lies stiffened in his tight slacks, brows furrowed as he plunges his tongue in farther, moans reverberating off of his mouth and into your cunt. He drinks you down like he was born thirsty, savors the taste of your tart essence while using his tongue to greedily gasp in more.
Nanami isn’t anywhere close to being done with you, yet you’re trembling like the pair of you have already gone through three rounds. Soon enough, your back’s in an arch and your pretty body’s utterly trembling, all from the work of his eager mouth.
You’re so close to reaching ecstasy, and him running the tip of his tongue across your wet slit and suckling on your puffy bud is more than enough to get you toppling over the edge.
“Kento—!” It’s a silent scream of pleasure, all breathy and muffled; but he hears you well. You're nothing but sensitive and wet, whimpering over the raw pleasure while dragging your hips back and forth, grinding on his tongue and cumming in his mouth. Your fingers swiftly lace themselves within his hair and tug at his short blonde tresses. He hisses at the sensation of your tense grip, your thighs quivering against each side of his head.
Your breaths are labored, inner thighs wetly soiled with your arousal and Nanami’s spit.
Before you can regain yourself, a low thud abruptly resounds, which shoves a shard of guilt down your throat and leaves your stomach tightening uncomfortably. The last thing you want is to get caught with him.
“Relax,” Nanami coos, voice smooth and assuring. “I’m just taking off my clothes.” your eyes flit downwards to be met with his blazer and shoes littering the floor.
“It’s only you ‘n me…” Kento affirms, and you nod. In a matter of seconds, he’s kissing you deep, your hands roaming his broad shoulders. When breaking away, his affection lingers on your swollen lips.
Nanami flashes a brief, soft grin, the most genuine one you’ve ever seen from him. He continues to shed every article of clothing one by one, and that smile of his is shifting into more of a smirk as he goes on.
He draws his arms out of the sleeves, biceps flexing when loosening the tie that remained looped around his neck, nimble and veined hands reaching for the zipper of his tight trousers.
Your intent stare is shamelessly vulgar, eying his every movement while he reveals the most intimate part of himself to you. His pants hit the floor, slacks pooled at his ankles before he steps out of them. The way his cock strains against the thin material of his boxers is downright teasing.
You grow confused when Nanami grabs for your hand, shooting you a knowing look. You come to understand his intent when he places your touch directly on his crotch with a groan. He can practically feel your ardor streaming through your fingertips and onto his dick.
You hungrily paw at his hot length, lightly moaning over every throb and pulse. He’s just as long as he’s thick, so fucking big. You gulp down your wanton urge to shove all of him down your throat, to feel the weight of his girth resting on your salivating tongue.
“Y’feel that?” Kento lowly purrs, and you gasp out another moan as a response. He leans in close, mouth aligned with the shell of your ear. “Touch it good,” he lets out a suave, titillating growl, “‘cause soon enough, your hands are gonna be all the way up here.” Kento takes hold of your wrists, pinning them together in one large hand and holding them to your chest.
“— You’re into that?” you question him with intrigue, wetting your lips with the swift flick of your tongue. “Mhm,” he hums low, nipping at the delicate junction of your neck. The way you squirm with anticipation lets him know that you wouldn’t mind your hands restricted during a thorough fuck.
He presses a sparing kiss to your lips before easing you down on the desk, drinking in just how pretty you look when splayed there all needy for him; with blooming hickeys gracing your thighs, saliva glossing your lips, along with your cunt looking so sloppy and lascivious; the valley of your breasts on display through your unbuttoned shirt.
Air catches in your throat when he finally slips his endowed cock out of it’s refines— the sight of him and his dark blonde happy trail leaves you fucking salivating.
“— holy shit,” you gasp at the way he smacks his leaking tip against your throbbing clit, gathering your slick by rubbing himself against your wet slit.
“Kento,” you mewl out of impatience, for he can tell you want him inside, and now. He merely lets out a silent nose-laugh, removing the tie from his neck. “Hands.” he beckons for you, and you listen; pliant when he wraps and loops his silk tie around your wrists. You tug at it, but he’s binded your hands too taut to give space for movement.
“It isn't too much?” he queries, his tone calm and soothing as always. “I— it’s okay, it’s fine,” you ramble, heat rapidly building within your core. It’s like he can read your mind; or maybe it's the eager twitching of your body that lets him know just how ready you are to be stuffed with his dick. You put in no effort to hide your desire, making lewd attempts at jerking your hips closer to him, his shaft sliding against your wetness just the way you like it.
His own hips rock forward, and he seethes out a grunt. “Be— fuck, be patient,” the hold of Kento’s palms at your sides is rigid, easily stilling your whorish movements. “Be a good girl for me, ‘kay?” You elicit a whiny huff before giving in, halting the sway of your body.
He grins to himself— you're like putty in his hands. There’s comfort in the way he holds and molds you, to make you the perfect fit for his hard cock.
“You're so ready for this, aren't you?” whispers Nanami, using his thumb to press tight circles on your tender clit. You sputter out a moan, and your volume only increases when he plunges his slim fingers into your cunt, knuckles grazing against your puffy bundle of nerves. Your eyes grow glossed with pleasure as you jolt into his touch with parted lips.
“Fuck, I bet you’ve dreamt about this… about us.” his grunted words hit home, for it's all true. You've wanted him for the longest, since you set eyes on him at some obscure bakery about a year ago. He hopes you know that he feels the exact same; that he’s always wanted to please you, to have you this close to him for as long as he can remember.
Seconds pass, and his fingers are eventually replaced with something much bigger and warmer, something that makes the stretch sting when pressing past your pussy lips and inside of you. Kento directs his cockhead into your pulsing hole, using his other hand to grip at your chin.
“Look at me when I fuck you.”
You love his girth and how it splits you open, and you love the way his crude words make you wetter with every fucking syllable that tumbles past his lips. He pulls himself out and eases back in until he physically can't resist the way you're sucking him in, a frothy ring of cum decorating the base of his shaft. He hisses, throbbing balls snug against your ass as he bottoms out. “Fuck,” Nanami chokes out a deep moan over the way you squeeze him, your pussy walls massaging every inch of his dick with the way you pusle around his hot girth.
It doesn't take long for him to grow reckless, resting his forehead upon yours while rutting into you, groaning against your lips with his brows knitted tight, body tense. His hips roll back and forth, pushing his cock in deep before dragging it out, penetrating your dripping heat so good and hard that you're trying to claw your hands out of the tie just to wrap your arms around him and make a mess of his broadened back.
“Ken!” You brokenly wail. He wracks breathless sobs from right out of your mouth. The sound of skin on skin resounds in the stuffy office, Kento pounding into you as though all he’s good for is pumping his dick into your pretty pussy.
“Wanna touch you, Kento,” you plead, your breathing sporadic. He clicks his teeth, one hand running underneath your loose shirt to squeeze at your bouncing tits. “Nuh-uh,” he tuts, and you whine when he denies you. “no touching, just take it.” and with that, his jackhammering thrusts grow so fervent that every desperate rock of his hips has his swinging balls making lewd contact with your ass, wet smacks resounding while his pelvis bumps your clit.
You try to cry out his name, but moans in the form of white noise is all that spills past your lips. Your mind goes hazy, brain fogged with dick. His pace is merciless, bullying his way into your soaking hole nonstop. He’s frantic when gracing your neck with messy, open mouthed kisses, his nerves on fire when digging his length further into your walls. The desk attempts to uphold yours and Nanami’s weight on it’s four trembling legs. You're nearing your second climax of the night, cunt squeezing at your boss’s cock.
Kento angles your hips upwards, putting all his energy into making your upcoming orgasm the best you ever had. He’s drilling you faster, harder, deeper. When you finally unravel, clenching on his twitching cock, you're so over wired with pleasure that your body fizzles and sparks from his ministrations on your spent cunt, shuddering when hitting your peak and creaming all over him. Nanami’s fingers catch onto your clit, toying with the bud to help you ride it out.
“So good— shit, feels so fuckin’ good,” in the midst of his dazed rasping, his breath hitches, balls tightening over the sensation of your over-stimmed pussy. You throb and throb, bringing about his slamming hips beginning to stutter, how his knees buckle, and the way he gives you one last, sloppily rough thrust before pouring himself into you, smearing your inner walls with his hot cum.
By the time he comes down to earth, the first thing in his line of vision is your cunt; filled to the brim. His seed spills its way past your fluttering pussy and makes a mess of his mahogany desk— there's now a suggestive pool of white. Despite the heavy trace of exhaustion in his hooded eyes, his exhale reeks of satisfaction.
He pulls at the tie, loosening it from your achy wrists before gracing your knuckles with feather-soft pecks. “You did good,” Kento huffs, his distinct cheekbones dusted pink. He’s somewhat winded, but content. You bear a sweet smile in return, lacing your arms around his neck and pulling him in. It’s much easier to dote on him this way.
“So,” you murmur between kisses, fingertips grazing his nape. He grins against your lips before you continue, “does this mean I’m gettin’ a raise?”
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taglist: @izukine @glittrkink @grandetan @kloesklarity @chocoboba @ereh-simp @straightestgay-voice @strawbub @sunshinedragonofthewest
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pinkmirth · 3 years
Text
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imagine being able to convince eren’s stubborn self into putting on a pretty lil’ pencil skirt. the length rests above his knees and has a deep slit on the left thigh. your ultimate fantasy is dressing up your boyfriend in a slutty skirt— one so short that it leaves not a thing to the imagination, his dick practically peeking through.
he wouldn’t dare admit it, but with his slim hips being hugged by the skimpy skirt and his long dark hair brushed all nice and neat, he feels so fucking pretty. you coo at him, your pretty boy, with the brightest grin and a sparkle of arousal in your eyes.
when you press a kiss to his cheek and hug him tight, he feels himself melt underneath your touch. soon enough, after a good few minutes of making out, lacing your fingers within his lengthy hair, and ruining the sweet ‘n pink strawberry lip gloss he applied to his soft lips, he’s officially turned on. he groans low, cock stiffening underneath that cute skirt of his. it’s painfully obvious, too— there’s a suggestive bulge tenting underneath the scanty fabric, and his skirt seems significantly shorter now.
“fuck, babe, stop looking…” he utters, tugging at the hem of the skirt with his thick brows furrowed, cheeks dusted pink. you set a hand on his broad chest and flash him a glossy smile, toying with the spaghetti straps of his crop top. loads of precum is already spilling from Eren’s sensitive tip, wetting his shaft and making a mess of his inner thighs and balls. when you reach your unoccupied hand under the cloth and firmly wrap your eager fingers around his throbbing cock, he just can’t find it in himself to stifle his dulcet moans.
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pinkmirth · 3 years
Text
— fuck me, connie springer <3
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pairing: connie springer x f!reader
summary: the result you get when adding connie, being horny, and unparalleled amounts of energy all together.
content warnings | nsfw/smut, doggie style, missionary, a lil bit of pussy slapping, unprotected sex, soft dom!connie, explicit language, me being an utter whore for con’s fine self </3
word count: 700+
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imagine getting fucked by none other than connie. his stamina is a blessing to the both of you, hips rutting into you at a hastily quick rate, his grip on your waist and ass so fervent that it almost hurts.
he made it clear beforehand, he wants you right now, hell, he needs you right now, and pleaded for your forgiveness if he ended up going too rough. little does he know that you love nothing more than when he grows (somewhat) serious and fucks your lights out.
he starts off with raw dogging, where he can pound into your sopping cunt so hard and hit places so deep that the only fucking thing in your current vocabulary is his name.
fuck, ’con, is the mantra you babble aloud, wispy moans spilling past your lips as he scoops you up in his arms and turns you over, now laying on your back. what a view it is, lidded eyes overtaken with raw lust, splotches of love bites gracing your supple skin, tits sloping to the side, with your legs resting along his shoulders, right where he set them to be.
he leans low to press soft, endearing kisses to your lips, gives your breasts a light squeeze, and planting light smacks on your sensitive pussy, the pads of his fingers toying with your clit.
”— mm, y’ready, babe?” he softly questions against your lips. considering that you’re too fucked out to give a proper response, the soft grin you flash in reply is more than enough. he smiles right back before easing himself in, hands grasping at either one of your legs as the pace picks up speedily.
he finds himself doing it again, going so damn fast that his brain can’t keep up with the movement of his body striving to reach that high, attempting to get to a state of euphoria and bring you right with him. you pant underneath him and take it all, but not without clamping your spongy walls down on the girth of his dick.
“you’re tight as fuck,” he heaves, tightly grasping onto either one of your legs. he makes sharp inhales over every clench of your pussy, pulsing at the underside in response.
he gradually slows before coming to a full halt, peering at where you and him intimately meet before his hazel eyes flit up to yours. what a pretty little mess you are, just for him.
connie mischievously gleams before giving your puffy cunt an abrupt slap, pressure directed right at the clit. “y‘gonna cum? hm?” he switches the pace with a sweet but domineering grin on his face all the while. opting towards something slower, his thrusts go at the same rate that he rubs at your puffy bud with.
the lengthy drag of his dick pulling out and pushing in has you seeing stars, and the sensation alone causes the volume of your moans to increase by tenfold. to that, he smiles. “yes, yes!” you mewl, taking hold of him and pulling him down to your level. the tip of his nose brushes against yours, his tongue teasingly swiping over your lower lip.
“c’mon, cum for me, cum on this dick.” he suddenly goes so pleasurably fast that you can’t help but do as he wishes, reaching your utmost high before falling apart.
he chuckles low over the way your back arches, hands clawing at his back. ”fuck yeah, that’s my girl,” connie grunts, following your lead shortly after. he’s quick to slide out of you, his warm cum spilling onto your abdomen and littering your skin, while the remaining makes a mess of his swollen tip before dripping down the shaft.
you release a light laugh while basking in the aftermath, noting at how the warmth of his body on yours makes the ache in your legs just a bit more bearable. he hums your name aloud, pecking your lips before asking— “wanna go again?”
judging by the eager expression that graced his pretty features, you could tell that he was nowhere near finished.
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pinkmirth · 3 years
Text
— sugar rush | sero hanta (nsfw)
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pairing: aged up!sero hanta x f!reader
summary: it’s hanta’s big day, and you’ve got all the things needed to make his birthday dreams come true— sloppy neck kisses and some cake.
content warnings | nsfw/smut, all characters are of age (18+), established relationship, food play with cake frosting, kitchen sex, unprotected sex, creampie, female bodied reader with g/n pronouns, explicit language, minors dni!
wc: 2.5k
author’s note: happy belated birthday to my boyfie hanta! ( the sero fanart above is from @DSH_0 on Twitter! )
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“You’ve been lookin’ at me like that all night,” Sero muses. You gaze back up at him with feigned unawareness, pursing your lips before they curve into a sweet smile. “Like what?”
He swings the apartment’s front door wide open, letting you slip through the entryway; but not without landing a teasing smack on your butt while you stroll past him. He squeezes the fat of your ass, and you swat him away with a playful gasp. “Just get in the house already, ‘Han...” you crane your neck to peer his way, lips upturning into a grin that looks just as cheeky as his own.
“I’m talkin’ about that, babe! That look on your pretty lil’ face,” in a flash, he’s encircling his arms around your waist from behind. His exceptional height requires him to lean low so he can press feather-like kisses along your jaw. Bursts of laughter leave your lips, and you feel the way he smiles against your skin. “Can’t I admire my man on his birthday?”
“I’m talkin’ about that, babe! That look on your pretty lil’ face,” in a flash, he’s encircling his arms around your waist from behind. His exceptional height requires him to lean low so he can press feather-like kisses along your jaw. Bursts of laughter leave your lips, and you feel the way he smiles against your skin. “Can’t I admire my man on his birthday?”
He smirks before dropping the volume of his voice, mouth leveled with your ear as he questions you lowly. “You have something planned, bebé?”
“Maybe,” you hum in response, grasping onto his bicep for a sense of balance while you kick off your shoes. “Just follow me, yeah?” He’s quick to comply, and you take hold of his wrist and lead him past the coat rack, around the couch, and over to the kitchen.
One glance at the inviting cake that sat pretty on the dining table is enough to get Sero giddy. “I got somebody to drop it off here while we were out,” you tell him, and he silently replies with a wide, genuine grin.
“My favorite cake from my favorite bakery, huh? You know me so well,” Sero coos, and you giggle over the way he dashes towards the dessert, dipping a finger into the frosting and swiping some into his mouth like a little kid. He’d had his fill of wheat noodles and hot pots for the night, but he could certainly make space for a slice of cake or two.
Hanta scours the kitchen for a fork before taking a seat at the table, shoveling pieces of the sugary dessert into his mouth. You merely watch and laugh with a hand resting on his shoulder, for he wasn't the type to intake sweets often. “Don’t finish it too quick, ‘Han.”
“No promises...” Is what he utters, licking his lips clean of any frosting residue. He darts out his tongue and swipes it along the corners of his mouth, and you’re sure that he doesn’t have the right to look so damned good while doing so.
You perch yourself into the seat beside Sero, purposely scooting the chair closer to him in order to make the proximity slim. “Could I have a taste?” You murmur aloud, and he turns your way. “Yeah, of course! Here,” he scoops up a piece and brings it to your mouth, watching how your lips part expectantly to take a bite.
You let the taste of buttercream simmer on your tongue, resting your head upon his shoulder. “... ‘Han, d'you remember when we held a party back at Yuuei for your sixteenth?” Hanta recalls the memory with a hearty laugh, and the fact that it’s been a good five years since then has him thinking about time; how it just flies and never stops.
“That one time when Denki smashed the cake into my face?” he scoffs playfully when reminiscing all those high school antics, “how could I forget?” You’re shooting him one of those intriguing glances again, the subtle gleam in your eye showcasing that you must be up  to something.
You lean close towards Hanta, and the intimacy of his nose grazing yours with legs touching underneath the table, has the pair of you smiling and giggling. Every happy grin and glance you and him exchange is nothing new, like it’s this coupley type of familiarity.
“Now I’m thinkin’ about the way that frosting got all over you,” you utter. He finds it rather abrupt, how you run your tongue along your teeth before nibbling at his earlobe. Sero releases a low gasp, breath catching within his throat. Before long, his lips curve upwards into the prettiest grin, anticipating your next display of affection. Your hand runs across his firm thigh, while the other fumbles with the buttons on his formal dress shirt, popping them out one by one.
With Hanta’s buttons undone, it leaves his lean but muscular  build exposed for your viewing pleasure. You press a palm against his broad chest, and his hand moves up to catch your wrist within his hold. “What’re you doing? Not that I’ll stop you,” he chuckles, and you feel the rumble of his laughter vibrating onto your touch.
“Making memories, Hanta.” You whisper hushedly, bringing about the confused rise of his brows.
Sero swears that he’s slick, for he’s so sure he could get away with just about anything undetected— but you notice the way he tilts his neck to the side all too quickly, catching onto how he’s silently urging you to put a mark or two on his slightly tanned skin. His desire is as broad as daylight, just like yours.
Wasting no time, you latch your lips onto his neck, and he groans low in return. Inching further down and swirling your tongue on the supple skin of his collarbone gets him hot in the face, and the heat flows through him before it rushes on down. The way you’re sucking a pretty love bite onto his undecorated body has him wanting even more; Hanta’s damn lucky that this is hardly the beginning.
Then comes your erotic little surprise, the one that you’d probably been thinking of since the first hours of the night. It’s sudden when you do so, but it has him finally understanding what you'd meant earlier. While he’d been busy reveling in arousal with his eyes fluttered closed, you were dipping naughty fingers into the cake with a purpose.
The sensation of frosting gracing Sero’s skin has him blinking his eyes wide open. You lather it on him, smearing it from his chest to his abdomen with a wicked smile, and he practically moans over the feeling. “S’just like the time when you got cake all over you, yeah?” He wants to wipe that smug look off your face, kiss it off, actually. Between the two of you, he’s the one who makes the sly remarks. Though, being on the receiving end was all the more enjoyable.
You bring your index finger up to your pursed lips, ridding your digit of sugary icing with the help of your active tongue. Hanta eyes you all the while, cheeks flushed pink with his chest rising and falling in anticipation. He swipes a hand through the onyx tresses of his voluminous mullet-style hair, lifting a brow.
“You like makin’ messes, hm?” he says lowly, unashamedly pulling you into a kiss. It’s sickeningly sweet, more so than usual thanks to all the frosting that sat atop the tips of your tongues.
You moan onto his lips, and he laughs deeply against yours before mumbling something aloud. He flits his dark brown eyes downwards, hinting at the mess you made of him.
“Lick it clean.”
His cake-dirtied body couldn’t stay unattended any longer. You’re fast to comply, for this is what you’d wanted from the start. You begin at his pelvis, glancing at his subtle happy trail before licking a teasing stripe up his body. As you go higher and let your smooth tongue across his form, you get more and more delightfully dizzied by the overpoweringly saccharine taste. By the last lick, you’re flattening your wet muscle across his collarbone; yet you’re far from finished.
Hanta merely enjoys it all, easing back into his chair when your hands make hasty work of his belt, slipping it out of the loops. Before you can unzip his pants and pull them down until they’re pooling at his ankles, he stops you. “No need, bebita.” he smiles. Albeit the endearing expression he bears, you know of his intent— To wreck you with pleasure.
You sit back just as he tells you to, while he stands to his feet and discards his clothes all by himself. The dress shirt drifts it’s way to the ground, and he tugs off his slacks before kicking them to the side. All that’s left is his thinly silver chain that greatly accentuates all those hickeys adorning his neck, and a pair of skin-tight boxers that left not a thing to the imagination.
“C’mere,” mumbles Hanta, ushering you to stand up with him. You’re unsure on what to focus your attention on; his alluring smile that consisted of flawless pearly whites and extremely soft lips, or the unabashed bulge that prodded against the restrictive underwear he wore.
Though, there’s no need to choose when you could opt for both. You grin right back, eyes dragging along his clothed hard-on before you take his hand and allow him to spin you the other way, your back facing him as you brace all your weight onto your forearms, resting upon the marble table.
Hanta rubs your sides and leans down to press a kiss on your shoulder before ridding you of every cloth that could get in the way. He wants to feel you on him, body to body, in the same way that the sticky, sugary icing caked his lean frame and stuck to him.
You release a sharp gasp over the feeling of his tip nudging against your slick. With lidded eyes and a wide smile, Hanta pushes past the ring of muscle until he’s delved inside of you about halfway, palming your ass while his unoccupied hand laid restive on your back, fingers playfully trailing your spine.
Every motion that sheathes Sero inside deeper has you stammering for him, bucking your body back in search of a sense of fullness that just couldn’t be topped. You want him, his dick, all the way in. Just as you open your mouth to plead, he reverts back, pulling out and leaving you whining.
“C’mon, Hanta…” you huff. He leans forward, chest pressed to your arched back. Even in your peripheral, you catch sight of his trademark beam. “C’mon what? Gotta be specific,” you’re in no mood for his taunting ways, but he decides to test your patience anyway. You rock your ass onto his stiff length eagerly, earning a breathy hiss from him.
“Want you— need you inside,” you correct, and the way he plunges back into your wetness shows that all you said was more than enough. You cry out over the ecstasy of being filled to the brim, pussy gripping at his girth fervently. Hanta groans into your ear, rolling his hips at an easy pace.
“Damn,” Hanta whistles low, for your essence is already coating him from the tip to the shaft, wetting his balls and inner thighs, “you’re so fuckin’ good for me...” He knows he has an undeniable charm, but sometimes he can hardly believe the impact he has on you, even when he hasn’t even lifted a finger to get you drenching your panties.
The motion of your colliding bodies isn’t as slow anymore, and his hips smacking against your ass, balls wetly slapping your clit, causes the lewdest sounds to elicit into the air. Hanta stares at the ripple of your body with every thrust, cheeks blooming red with pride. He clearly knows a thing or two on how to make you feel good— judging by the way you claw onto the table with an iron grip, tongue lolling past your glossy lips as your moans never cease— and he couldn’t be happier about it.
A combination of his name and loose profanities are what you repeat by every passing second, brows furrowing in pleasure when he pounds your cunt just the way you like it. You tighten around the thickness of his cock, an undeniable pressure in your gut growing just as fast as he fucks you.
“‘Han—!” You whimper aloud with your head resting upon the table, legs wobbling from his increase in speed. You can’t manage to get another word out, not when he’s fucking you against this marble surface as if both your life and his depends on how hard he can make you cum with his cock, how much he can get you shaking and moaning with every deep stroke, how limp and achy you’ll be by the end of it all.
You sense the way he twitches and pulses, how sloppy he’s getting with pumping his dick into you, how his labored breaths are heavier with every swift roll of his hips. Hanta throws his head back with a loud groan, allowing the gratifying orgasm take over his being and wrack through him like that of a great, crashing wave.
You lurch forwards with your eyes rolled back, meeting your own awaited high when he makes one last deep, impacting thrust. You shudder over the feeling of thick, warm ropes spurting onto your inner walls, making a sharp inhale while clenching on his pulsing dick.
Sero stills himself inside of you instead of pulling out per usual, keeping every ounce of cum stuffed within your sensitive cunt.
His large, warm hands rub along your hips and waist once again, and he leans your way to tenderly kiss and nip at your neck with agape lips, perfect teeth and a teasing attitude, just as he did when you and him first made it back home.
“Hey, baby,” he coos, and you smile tiredly in response, letting the table take the responsibility of holding your weight. “We should get another cake, don’t y’think?”
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pinkmirth · 3 years
Text
— runway ready.
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pairing: tailor!reiner braun x model!reader
summary: Your upcoming fashion show is slowly but surely arriving, and the time to put an outfit together is growing scarce. Though, there’s no need to fret if Reiner Braun’s around. He's a sweetheart, no doubt, and the way he pines for you is painfully obvious. When you set your eyes upon a special set of clothing— one on the more erotic side of the spectrum, it forces the blonde to come to terms with both his emotions and his urges.
content + warnings | modern au, nsfw/smut, sex in a dressing room, model!reader, fashion designer!reiner, body worshipping, switch!reiner, cunnilingus, vaginal penetration, creampie, female bodied reader, explicit language, minors dni!
word count: 5.7k
A/N | this fic is for (@welcometotheclubhoe)’s All Around The World Collab! This was my first time joining a collab and I’m more than glad that I got to participate! I hope you enjoy it babe <3
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“Since you’ll be wearing the summer collection for the upcoming runway event,” you pause when hearing Reiner utter about, setting your flute of champagne down upon the glistening glass table before you.
He scavenges through a lengthy rack of cloth, each and every piece sewn by his own lithe hands. “You’ll have to show off lots of, um…”
“A lot of skin?” You chuckle aloud, aiding him with his sentence. “Yeah, that.” Your fingers grasp around the slim cup once more, bringing the sparkling beverage to your lips and allowing it to run down your throat. “You can be so prude, Reid,” your snickers are light and mocking, “It’s adorable.”
… It’s Reiner. The blonde thinks. Not Reid Brown or whatever the hell you called him, it’s Reiner Braun. He wouldn’t dare correct the woman he loved, for he didn’t have the heart to. Not that you’d care if he told you, anyway.
Albeit that, he wants you to care. Wants you to see him as more than your trusty clothing designer that you could always rely on, or that hot blonde tailor that you’d gawk at for a couple seconds too long. Wants you to love him just as much as he loves you.
A pinch then lands on Reiner’s skin, courtesy of himself. It’s his go-to attempt to reel his mind away from such thoughts, so nonsensical and selfish. You were a busy woman, and having a partner would undoubtedly slow you down.
“— You alright, Reid?” Your voice rings aloud, and the hint of concern in it makes him feel so special. “I’m doing fine, Madam.” He flashes you a quick grin before speed-walking over to the large supply closet that lay on the other side of your sizable room.
“He’s always looking at me with those goo-goo eyes of his...” you chuckle underneath your breath, a content smile stretching along your face before you raise your glass to your lips, intent on taking another sip.
You then maneuver around, craning your neck back to peer Reiner’s way, taking glances at whatever he was occupying himself with. He’s so well built, you can never seem to take your eyes off him.
The neat, white button-up he’s always seen in was so flattering, especially how he wore it— leaving the first three unbuttoned so a little of his broad chest is exposed, along with folding the sleeves up to his strong forearms, wrist adorned with a thick silver watch. His knack for tailoring explained why his style was so impeccable, yet ironically simple. Khaki dress pants are what he matches his top with today, and the figure-hugging material doesn’t shy away from showcasing the thickness of his firm thighs.
Sometimes, you'd absentmindedly trail your gaze just a bit further up for the hell of it.
Then there’s his face, such a captivating one at that. He’s incredibly handsome, with his goatee, expressive brows, cheekbones and all; but his somewhat sheepish attitude brings you to wonder if he even knows just how sexy he is. You especially took a liking to the subtle touch of the pretty stud piercing on his distinctive nose. You weren’t shy to admit— Reiner was just your type.
Your dear tailor’s currently kneeling before a sturdy box that he retrieved from your dressing room closet, plucking out a pin cushion and strewing a lengthy tape measurer across his neck. Reiner then stands to his feet, various clothes draped along his arms.
“You oughta’ start trying these on,” he neatly sets the clothes upon the empty surfaces of the couch before spinning the clothing rack around, facing it your way. “Choose what you’d like to wear first, Madam.”
You grin upon hearing that, from ear to ear. That sparkle in your eyes never failed to make him melt. Dress up time was always when you’d quickly grow intrigued. It was practically an honor to set a finger upon Reiner Braun’s clothes. Not necessarily his, for he’d probably tear them from the stitching on down if he were to try them on. But his skillful hands were the reason you had this bountiful outcome of various clothing sets and more.
“Robe,” With the snap of your fingers and the sound of your dulcet voice, he’s at your side, helping you off of the plush white sofa. “Yes, Madam,” he’s so quick to comply all the time, and that’s exactly why you love him. Well, you were fond of Reiner for more reasons than one. He was just so easy to toy with, and you loved being the cause of the deeply-hued blush that would spread along his face, gracing his prominent cheekbones.
“Actually,” you hum, causing him to cease his movements. His large, warm hands rest at your shoulders while he awaits your dialogue. “I think I’d like a massage before trying anything on.” He clicks his teeth in reply, for you were always so indecisive; changing the route of things just because you felt like it.
“I doubt you have the time, Madam. We don't have long ‘till the runway show tomorrow,” You were sure that displaying a pout would be enough to shake him, but Reiner isn’t relenting as he usually does. “Our session’s for three hours, and you already took up two. There’s not enough time—“
“I can always extend our session, don’t worry about that,” you shrug, hand moving in the form of a dismissive wave. It’s only then that you start to realize how close he really is— feeling his warmth radiate through your silk white robe that he’s grasping by the neckline, ready to slip it off of you. “Besides, our sessions are my favorite, Reid.”
His heart thrums right in his chest, for you sound so earnest, even when addressing him incorrectly. “I’m happy to hear it...” His face grows hot while displaying a flattered grin, rubbing at your shoulder before attending to your robe once again. Abruptly, your hand flies up to grasp at his wrist, stopping him.
“If you’re up for it, could you give me that massage? Modeling gives me knots like you wouldn’t imagine,”
That would undoubtedly drain time, but he can’t bring himself to refuse you this time around. It was funny how he found himself doing multiple odd jobs for you. Wasn’t he just supposed to be your personal designer and nothing more? Now he was something of a tailoring-masseur, if that was even a thing.
“Well, I’d love to, but—“
“C’mon, you know just how to make me feel good...” You whisper, leaning your head back onto his chest. You look up at him with your glossed lips curved up into a smirk, noticing  how his breath hitches and watch the way his Adam’s apple bobs. The slightest praise falling from your lips was enough to get him hooked just like that. You regularly took advantage of his infatuation with you, not that he’d ever complain.
“... Fine then,” and with that, you’re easing yourself back onto the sleek couch, nudging the satin robe off of your shoulders. “Oil or no?” He murmurs, “We don’t need any this time around, wanna make this quick.”
Reiner hums, already beginning to skillfully knead at every tensive spot you point him to. “Move down a little,” you breathe, clasping your hand onto his before leading it where you wanted his touch to focus on, inching it closer towards the junction of your neck.
“Be careful, yeah?” With a curt nod, he’s pressing his fingers deep into your plush skin, urging a soft moan past your agape lips. “You’re the best, Reiner.” He then pauses over your airy mention of his name, fingers prodding into your skin a bit too harshly as his thoughts grow jumbled all the while.
Must've heard that wrong, he internally scoffs before gracing you with an apologetic, soothing neck rub. You’re usually too caught up in your own world of glamour to differentiate the name of his clothing brand, Reid, from his real one.
A few minutes in and you’re thoroughly satiated, having been massaged to your heart’s content. He strides back over to the clothing rack, rolling it closer towards where you sat cross-legged on the sofa.
“Grab me that one,” you order, aiming your pointer finger towards a lacy translucent two-piece, one that’s more than revealing. Reiner’s hesitance is clear as day, blinking before tediously reaching out towards it.
“Something wrong?” When you query him sweetly rather than yelling the way you would with others, he calms a bit. The way you always handled with such leniency is a mystery to Reiner; considering that you were a gorgeous woman of great wealth, who rarely ever had patience to spare. Not unless it was him.
“Well, it’s a part of the lingerie line,” explains Reiner, borderline whispering, “You sure you wanna wear it?” His heart rate would practically shoot through the roof if he were to take the slightest glimpse of you clad in it, and he might not be able to restrain himself from falling to his knees and kissing you all over.
“I’m sure,” You outstretch your dainty hand, beckoning Reiner to send the clothing your way. “Hand it over.”
“Wait,” he grips it within his big hands, watching how your brows arch confusedly. You simply wouldn’t know what you’d be doing to him if you put it on. The thought itself has him stirring from the inside out, blood rushing south. “Reid,” you call aloud and step his way, leaning low before placing your hand upon his, the one that fervently kept the lingerie tucked away behind his fingers.
“I’ll go on to the dressing room and put this on,”you set your unoccupied hand on his shoulder, voice falling below a whisper. The tip of your nose grazes against his own, and he stifles the deep whimper forming in his throat— you’ve never been this close before. “and you’ll tell me what you think when I’m finished, alright?”
He can do none but nod, your eyes boring into his yellowish-hazel ones while he gulps low. You held power over him, both you and him knew that well enough, and he loved it. “Yes, Madam…” you smile at Reiner, flashing two rows of pretty white teeth. His fingers begrudgingly loosen their hold around the clothing before you take it into your own hands.
When you turn on your heel and make your way over to the spacious dressing room, he’s somewhat dejected, for he’d love it if you could stay a minute longer and touch him more. Hands on his chest, rubbing at his shoulder, interlacing your fingers between his own; even the charming grin you shot his way, he didn’t want any of it to stop.
Then it happens, the one thing he’d been dreading— Reiner’s slacks begin to feel tighter than they did earlier. With slightly grit teeth and a dull pulse between his legs that’s only bound to grow harder to ignore with time, he elicits an airy huff, rubbing his restive palms against his knees.
Instead of trying to concoct a solution for his little problem, Reiner begins to daydream, and how pretty you’ll soon look in that set has him breathing low with blush-scattered cheeks. What he’d been thinking when sewing up, he had no clue; probably because he wasn’t.
Yet, the fanatical desire to see you sitting pretty in it from the bottom to the top was stronger than his conscience, despite knowing he wouldn’t be able to take it with composure if said fantasy became reality.
The call of your voice distracts him from his carnal ache, just for a second or two. “I’m finished, Reid, come see!” He walks on over, preparing himself amidst his short, short journey to the dressing room. The blonde slips a hand into a cabinet, retrieving two vital items before making his entrance into the well decorated dressing room.
You take notice of his presence and grin, turning away from the full-body mirror that stood in the background. “You should really start a lingerie line,” your hands are fixing at the slim little straps of the bra, fingers brushing against your collarbone. As imagined, practically every part of you is on display.
The cloth is much too sheer to curtain your body well enough. There’s the way your pert nipples stood taut behind the material, and how the round swell of your ass looked so nicely embellished in the lace fabric whenever you’d turn around.
Reiner merely stands, looks, and can't bring himself to move. You expected nothing more of an utterly mesmerized reaction from him, considering how much the man simply adored you. “Don't let your jaw drop to the floor or anything, okay?” You taunt, going back to slipping the complementary stockings up your legs.
There isn’t any low laugh or sighed reply as usual, for Reiner’s too caught up within his own thoughts. What an angel you are, he thinks, mind clouded with nothing other than how you look; so pretty and ethereal.
You usher him over, and the reddish bloom painted along his cheekbones is all the more obvious with every closing step he takes. His reaction is nothing short of adorable— thin brows downturned with plush, pursed lips, honey brown eyes frantically averting from your body before being lured back into giving your tits a sheepish glance.
“You like it?” you hum, and Reiner releases a nervous chuckle. Your eyes flit down momentarily, and the slight bulge in his slacks gives you more than enough insight as to how he feels. “No need to answer,” you give him a lingering stare, “I know you do.”
Clearing his throat is all he can muster to do, briskly running an unoccupied hand through his short blonde locks. “The set isn’t quite complete yet…” he mumbles, prompting you to lift a brow. “It comes with these, Madam.” He brings your attention to the clothing items he’d been holding all the while, hoisting them up for you to see.
You reach out towards a white, lace-trimmed garter and the supporting belt, finger pads grazing the mesh material.
“I should start putting these on—“ you think aloud, only to be cut off by Reiner. The glint in his hazel irises is nothing short of unwavering. “No, let me.” He’d bend over backwards for your sake, so there’d be no point in declining him.
He drops a bit, kneeling low before you. “I’m gonna put them on you, okay?” He’s just so eager, and to that you grin. He finds your soft smile as a green light, proceeding to take hold of your leg and toss it over his broad shoulder. He’s quick to help you find a sense of balance, strong hands planted on either side of your hips.
It’s only now that he seems to realize how provocative the proximity is between you and him— Reiner’s level-headed with your lower half, and he doesnt mean to take a sudden glance at all that lies behind your see-through panties, but he inevitably does. He chokes on his breath, and the imagery that his eyes had quickly caught onto, your scarcely clothed cunt, left not a damn thing to the imagination.
“Are you sure you’re just trying to put that on for me? Nothing more, Reid?” you voice out a rather suggestive giggle, bringing about the way he tightens his grip on your waist. “Don't tease like that…” grumbles Reiner, slipping the bunchy garter past your calf and up to your thigh in a few swift motions. Then comes the belt, which he fixes around your torso with touches that feel blazing hot, fingers grazing your belly and waist as he fastens every article of clothing that graces your body.
“There,” he breathes, “All finished.” He'd never been more pleased about any of his hand-crafted clothing pieces up until now, not anywhere near as proud as he was over this one. He grunts when lifting himself up to stand, admiring you just as much as you do yourself when staring into that full-body mirror.
“It definitely looks complete,” you sigh, hands running along your sides while eyeing your reflection. You love the way his clothes make you look, particularly how wearing his self-crafted pieces always gives you such an unyielding surge of confidence. It’s safe to say that you love Reiner himself as well.
Reiner looms over you from behind, resisting the urge to take hold of your pretty body and pull you against his. The blonde makes a sudden move that he doesn't register until five seconds after it happens— his hands absentmindedly grasping at your waist. He retracts his palms with bated breath and an apologetic whimper, but you grip onto each of his wrists and pull him right back in, the warmth of his tensive touch steadily becoming restive on your hips.
“Don’t be shy, you’ve touched me before.” you flash an alluring grin, which makes it increasingly difficult for him to stay unflustered. “I was only taking body measurements,” he utters, releasing a breathy chuckle. His gaze lands upon the mirror, and the reflection that stares right back at him entices a new wave of blush to overtake his expression; he never could’ve imagined that you and him would look so good together.
“Hey, take a good look in that mirror, okay?” Reiner whispers, “I’m looking,” you softly respond, noting how he’s gradually growing comfortable, feeling assertive enough to tug your body closer to his.
“… You’re so beautiful.” He swoons, genuinity dripping from each and every syllable. “Mhm,” you merely hum, leaning back into his broad chest, “I know.” you’re so fucking spoiled, to the point where you can’t even take a compliment without a traces of egotism being laced within your response. Reiner hardly thinks anything of it though, it simply gladdens him to know that you understand just how important, how amazing you are.
You release an abrupt gasp, one that’s light and sudden, over the sensation of a certain firmness prodding between the cheeks of your ass. The pair of you both know the source, one of you feeling much more bashful about it than the other.
You’d make it easier for Reiner by creating a distance between you and him, but there was simply no fun in that. Though, you make an attempt at being somewhat merciful, by taking it slow when tilting back and pressing into his bigger form with a purpose. The hitch of his breath is music to your ears, just the reaction you’d been trying to draw out of him— but it isn't enough.
“— What’re you doing?” Reiner had never sounded so stern when addressing you before, but you take a liking to the switch in tone, for you can tell that he isn't trying to sound domineering or intrepid; it’s his final bit of resolve cracking.
“Whaddya’ think I’m doing?” You smoothly retort, adding pressure when grinding back along his bulge. “You gettin’ this excited just for me, hm?” His hard-on slots between your ass and thighs as you whine your hips, the roughness of his slacks frictioning against the lacy material you were clad in.
“Please, Madam,” heaves Reiner, “stay still…” The way he begs is too cute, to the point that it’s damn near pathetic. You’d laugh over his flustered ways if you weren't aroused yourself. His grip goes tight in an attempt to cease your movements, but you’re too entrancing for him to want to stop you all the way.
“This isn’t professional,” Reiner mutters. You manage to turn his way, facing him. “We’re way past professional, don’t you think?” You lead his hands further down until they’re hovering above your ass, since he can’t find the gut to do so himself. Though initiating wasn’t a problem, you liked to be in charge anyway.
“I know how much you love me,” you coo, arms looping around his neck. He’s practically tongue tied, and words just can’t seem to come out. It’s almost as though you’re boasting over how endearing he finds you. No other words have to be exchanged, because everything’s out in the open— especially the lingering sexual tension.
Without a second spent, you press your lips onto his. It’s impassioned but playful, just as Reiner imagined it would. His groans messily fall past his lips and you swallow the sound, hums vibrating against each other’s mouths.
“Bet you wanna do more than kissing, yeah?” you breathe aloud, darting your tongue past his lips before he’s given the chance to elicit a shaky reply. Reiner doesn’t know when, but your hands are suddenly all over him— one making it’s way underneath his shirt, touching along his tense abs and chest, while the other aids him with that undying sensual ache, giving his restricted dick a firm grab.
It’s hard to register any of this. You’re kissing him, you’re touching him, you’re actually reciprocating interest in ways that he never could’ve managed to think of. It’s a blur of low and throaty moans that he can’t seem to make any sense of in that lovesick brain of his, but all he knows is that he wants to make you feel good before anything else.
Reiner takes hold of your plush thighs, fingers prodding at the skin when he lifts you up and off of the floor. You release a giddy whistle, legs enveloping his waist on instinct. He’s so strong, and it’s sexy.
“Wanna do it standing up? Showoff,” your words make his heart race, the thought of getting that close to you, inside of you. Despite the rush of that idea, it isn’t necessarily what he has in mind just yet. “Lay back for me,” he’s gentle when setting you down onto the white armchair, the lavish furniture being positioned in the middle of the dressing room.
Reiner’s back on his knees again, but with more motive this time around. You ease yourself into the plush seat, emitting a sharp laugh of excitement when both legs of yours get situated upon his wide shoulders.
“Wanna please you first, Madam,” Your unoccupied hand entwining itself through his hair is enough to shut him up, tugging his face nearer until his mouth’s only an inche’s space away from your core. Past the lingerie, he can see it’s damp. It causes his heart to ram against his chest— you’re wet just for him. “Is it okay if I..?”
“It’s more than okay.” With that, he’s making a move, one that’s much bolder than anything you’d expect from him. Reiner’s fingers loop at your translucent panties, pulling it separate ways until the material tears, the ends of the shredded lace tickling your inner thighs.
You shoot him a look, one that’s mingled with lust and the slightest bit of surprise, but he reassures you. “Don’t mind the rips, I can always make another,”
You’re laid out before him in all your glory, bearing a cheeky but ironically trusting smile. He looks past your face and trails his hazel eyes down your body, gaze landing on your sopping, pulsing cunt. “Oh,” a deep moan rumbles low in his throat before spilling past his lips. He reaches to you with two determined fingers, spreading your folds apart with not a hint of tentativeness. Reiner catches his lip underneath his teeth, pressing the softest feather-like kiss to your calf before working his way on up. “You’re so fuckin’ pretty…”
Then another kiss, and another, plus about five more grace your skin and leave you melting underneath the tenderness of his lips. Two big, rousing palms rub at your thighs before he inches his face closer towards the direction you’d been wanting him to go all along.
Reiner’s breath warmly fans your clit, and you’re more than ready. With lidded eyes, you peer at him, egging him on and wielding a sweet smirk all the while. He eventually prods his tongue out and licks your puffy bud, slowly and delicately so.
“Fuck yes,” Your inhale is sharp, but not as much as the purposeful movements of his darting tongue. He suckles at your bundle of nerves with a titillating pressure before running the flat of his tongue down your pussy, for the sake of earning your pleasureful cries in return.
You let out a breathy whine, hips rolling up towards his mouth. His hands place a thwack on the fat of your ass before smoothing it out with a rub as cool as balm. “Be still, love,” Reiner’s words, so sweet and doting, come out deeply muffled, his lips moving against your cunt and enticing a shudder to ripple its way throughout your body.
Reiner then plunges his tongue in with a thrust, and it wrenches out the loudest moan he’s heard yet. To that delightful reaction, he hums, causing a stream of vibrations to surge through your core. Your pretty mewls are such an inspiring sound, and they only coax him further, slipping his pink muscle in and out of your clenching hole fervently.
It’s getting messier and you’re growing closer; he’s slurping up your essence like you’re his first meal in years, hands ardently gripping either side of your hips as though you’d vanish if he were to hold you any looser. You grind onto his mouth with fervor, and he moans into you as a response. “Gonna cum,” you wail to Reiner. He only quickens his speed, thrusting his tongue in harder and licking at your clit faster, sending you toppling over the edge.
You elicit a wracked moan, fingers gripping at the roots of his hair. It all comes on too quick, and you’re cumming in his awaiting mouth before he can plead for you to do so. You lightly spasm from the aftershock of such pleasure, toes uncurling with your breathing coming down to a normal rate.
“Come,” you usher Reiner closer and he does just as you tell him to, scooting upwards until both you and him are face to face. Your graceful hands cup his cheeks, while his own palm finds purchase on your thigh, “That felt much better than any of your massages...” you release a chuckle before allowing your lips to connect with his, and you can practically taste yourself off of him— tart but saccharine.
“Now, you know I don’t shy away from returning favors,” your hands tug at his shirt before going from button to button, undoing each and every one of them until the canvas that was his strong chest had finally become fully exposed. You slide your palms across his pecs, your glance flitting up to witness him go wide eyed.
“So, would you like a reward of some sort?” You aren’t asking, more like telling him what to expect— something in return for making you feel so damn good. He’s barely given the opportunity to nod his head twice before you’re maneuvering the pair of you around, until he’s the one seated and you’re the one on top, straddling his firm thighs.
You’re evidently ready to take more than his tongue, but Reiner himself isn’t sure if he’s prepared to give more to you. He was sure that he’d reach his high embarrassingly quick if you made even the slightest skin-on-skin contact with his anticipating dick. You’re aching to get a more intimate feel of him though, and the dull throb he was enduring tells you that he wants nothing but the same.
You keep the lacy set on, considering how much it rouses him up. But he, on the other hand, has to discard his clothes, and fast; you want him and you’d rather not wait. He begins slipping his brawny arms out of the shirt’s sleeves before you take it into your own hands and toss it haphazardly. “Can I feel?” You grin when he permits your desires, hands roaming the curvature of his muscled biceps, your touch wandering below until settling at his toned abdomen.
You then start to work at his belt, leather rustling and buckle clanking while you fix it out of the pant loops and onto the ground. “Lift your hips a little,” Reiner follows suit with your whispered instruction, making it all the easier for you to yank the remaining articles of clothing down his legs.
All restrictions are finally gone and his dick springs free, your eyes drawing towards the sight like that of a magnet. The longer you stare, the more he lowly whines. You take hold of his throbbing length, feeling the pulse of his shaft underneath your touch. He’s thickly sized, and it’s practically a struggle for you to get the tips of your fingers to touch when stroking him.
He’s impressive, is all you can say, more than easy on the eyes. Every deep whimper of his only has your crave to take him all growing by tenfold. You lift your hips up, determined to sink down on him. His precum-smeared tip catches your engorged clit. You’re still rather sensitive, but couldn’t care less— you just want to feel him to the fullest.
“Gonna let me ride you, hm?” Your coos sound borderline condescending, but he’s quick to nod either way. “Want me to make you feel good? Think you deserve it, baby?”
“Yes, please,” he chokes on his plea, honey hued eyes squeezing shut when you finally give in and lower yourself onto him, easing his cock inside. Reiner grunts low, fingers digging into the meat of your ass as you take him inch by inch, until he’s bottomed out and can’t possibly go any further.
“You’re so fuckin’ big,” he definitely knows that well enough, which is why he gives you the time to get used to such a stretch, but hearing it come from you makes his dick throb. Thirty seconds in and you’re well situated with the sensation of his thickness stuffing your needy cunt.
You start off with bouncing on him, landing back on his broad form with an accompanied resounding of skin slapping. You lean into Reiner, granting him the access to do as he pleased with your skin. Your walls squeeze him, tight, and his lips latch onto your collarbone in response, sucking a new bloom of color onto the spot. “Shit, love,” he heaves, lips pressed against the supple skin of the junction of your neck.
His sloppy love bites contradict the way his scruff tickles your skin. You clench around him, lifting your body up by a little before slamming back down with airy gasps, running your hands through his blonde hair. You murmur on about how good it all feels, eyeing your taut lower lips and how they look wrapped around his cock. Reiner only musters to groan, jaw slackening over the deft swivel of your hips.
“Fuck, Reid,” it’s then when he halts, grabbing your hips to stop you as well. “Hey,” he utters, one hand reaching up to grab at your chin. It’s a rather delicate hold, but assertive nonetheless. “It’s Reiner.” He mutters against your lips, “I know your name already, baby. Toying with you is just too much fun,” you giggle aloud, and it causes his brows to knit. So you did address him correctly earlier…
Maybe he’s just too sweet to you. It’s alright though, it won’t take him much to get his name ingrained within your head for good.
“— Then say it right.” The swift motion of his hips bucking up is nothing short of sudden, and what’s even more abrupt is that he doesn’t stop. With his hands grabbing at your sides, holding you in the perfect place, Reiner drills up into the drenched walls of your tight cunt with unrelenting thrusts. “Say it for me, my love,” you can’t do anything other than wail aloud, falling onto his chest and clawing at his big shoulders with every pump of his cock rapidly slipping inside you, “Say my name.”
“Reiner—!” It’s the first call of his name out of many, and the dulcet sound of each one leaves him more satisfied than the last. You eventually allow him to do all the work, body giving out and clutching onto him while he pounds into you from below. Your flimsily clothed breasts squish against his sturdy chest, and a familiar pressure builds within your gut. Every snap of his ardent hips bring both you and him closer to release, his underside pulsating with every drag it made along your inner walls.
“M’close, Reiner,” music to his ears, is what that is. His name sounds all too sweet falling past your lips, and you’re squeezing at his cock much too tight; the combination has his climax coming on strong, washing over him and wrenching out the loudest, raspiest groan to bubble past his throat. Just as that low moan leaves his lips, thick, warm ropes of cum spurt out and smear your inner walls with white.
You suck in a shaky breath, using the last of your energy to bounce on him, with Reiner shaking and panting underneath you. It isn’t long before your own orgasm takes a hold of you, the snapping of the tense knot resulting in your essence drenching his softening cock.
In midst of the silence filled with huffs and breaths of air that reek of pure satiation, Reiner presses a lingering kiss to your cheek. “... Looks like you can’t wear this to the runway tomorrow,” is what he mumbles, lips tugged upwards into a smile.
No matter what you’ll be seen wearing on the catwalk the next day, all you know is that you’ll sport these hickeys— his hickeys adorning your neck unashamedly.
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