pairing: steve harrington x female!reader wc- 3.9k
summary: your boyfriend steve helps you masturbate over the phone, but he gets so worked up that he ends up coming over to take care of his need too.
w/c: explicit smut! 18+, masturbation, use of sex toys, dirty talk, p in v, cream pie, oral sex (m receiving), overstimulation, multiple orgasms, phone sex, degradation kink, praise kink, big dick steve
you knew who was calling the second you heard the phone ring. steve usually called at the same time every night. you smiled against the receiver that was now pressed to your ear as soon as you heard the familiar charming voice of your boyfriend.
“hey, love. you still awake?”
you could picture him, lounging in some lonely hotel bed with his hair all messy, looking unreasonably sexy. steve always looked the best when he wasn’t trying. some too tight t-shirt probably stretched across his chest that was straining on his biceps. his hair messy from his hands running through it every few minutes.
“hey, babe. yeah, of course im up. wouldn’t miss talking to you.” you loved this time of night, recalling your days to eachother and gushing about how much you missed the other.
“i missed your voice today. have a good day?”
a simple conversation went on for about twenty minutes, discussing your days and telling eachother how much you can’t wait to reunite. steve had been gone for three days now, on some boring business trip his father had dragged him on. he was supposed to return home tomorrow afternoon, you were counting down the hours.
you were talking about your day, telling him about the mall, and the new clothes you just picked out for summer when you heard the tone of his voice shift when he spoke again.
“so.. what are you wearing right now?” it was a suggestive question, and you knew it. it had been three days after all, and steve was a very needy man.
your cheeks flushed slightly “nothing exciting. just the pink pjs, with the floral print.”
he hummed into the phone line “the pink ones with the floral.. i know those. the soft ones.”
you smiled a little, he was so observant.
“but that’s not what i meant. what’s under all the softness, baby? tell me.” it wasn’t really a demand, it sounded like a plea. a needy one.
your cheeks flushed further at the boldness of his question “just.. you know…”
“no, i don’t know. im not there to see for myself, so you gotta tell me. c’mon, don’t be shy”
“just the white lace panties, with the pink bow on the front” you whispered it softly, a little embarrassed.
you heard steve groan, and it sounded like his head fell back on a headboard. he was quiet for a long minute, picturing you all alone in your large bed. the same bed he usually fucks you senseless in. the same bed he’s pried those lace panties off with his teeth more times than he could count.
“those ones…mm. so pretty, baby. you know how much i love those.”
“they’re your favorite, aren’t they?” you asked, already knowing the answer.
“yeah, they are. you put those on just for me?” you couldn’t lie, you had. you’d selected them out of memory of all the times steve hadn’t been able to take his hands off you when he saw you in them.
“maybe i did” you teased.
“yeah? want you to touch yourself f’me.. just slowly, be a good girl and tell me how it feels. okay?” steves voice was low, barely a whisper into the phone receiver.
“touch myself.. where?” you knew where. but you wanted him to tell you. you wanted him to walk through it, talk you through it. you could imagine his reaction, how he was working himself up.
“start with that pretty neck, trace that soft skin right under your ear. tell me how it feels when you drag your nails across it. is it sensitive?”
you traced your fingers down the side of your neck, exactly where he places small kisses “it’s so sensitive..” a shiver went down your spine at the light touch.
“keep going, lower, down your collarbone.. down your sternum. want you to squeeze those tits” steves voice was getting rougher.
you slid your hand down, finding one of your breasts and gathering it into your hand, squeezing. pinching your nipples lightly, making them hard under your touch as you pictured steves rough hands.
“are your nipples hard for me? all pebbled and aching?”
“mhmmm, they’re.. fuck, steve. they’re so hard” you whimpered
your nipples were achingly hard, your fingers digging into the soft flesh and pinching your nipples in the same rhythm that steve would. you gasped into the phone.
“so fucking beautiful when you’re desperate. i want you wet for me. you getting there?”
you breathed out a breathless “yes”, which steve rewarded with “good girl.” the praise sending pleasure through your body, pussy throbbing against the lace in your shorts.
his words felt like a caress, painting the path of your arousal for you. “slide your hand down, slow. down your stomach and over your hips, tell me when your fingers are tracing that pretty white lace”
your hands roamed your body, fingers delicately skimming over your warm and flushed skin. every inch of skin you grazed felt overly sensitive, your body responding to everything. you reached the edge of your panties and you could feel just how badly you were throbbing, needy for any sort of touch. desperate to feel something other than the emptiness.
“slide the tips of your fingers right under that lace, just the tips. tell me how wet you are. make that pretty little clit swell for me” steve instructed
you slid your fingers under, exactly as he said, and grazed over the entrance of your pussy. a moan left your lips when you finally made contact. your thumb went straight to your clit, circling in slow motions.
“so wet.. just want you to c’mere and drink it all up” your stomach was fluttering, desperate for more than what steve was instructing.
“oh, baby, you have no idea..fuck” steve was rock hard, throbbing in his pants, pressing his palm down hard on his erection for any kind of relief. “slide a finger in for me, just one…. now curl it, honey. press up, right where you're most sensitive. can you imagine that it's my cock?” you heard steve let out a whine. “god, im so fucking hard for you, just aching to fill you up.”
your breath was hitching into the phone as your fingers explored your pussy, feeling how you’d clench around yourself just like you clench around steve when he was the one filling your insides.
“yeah? come on and fill me up then.. come stretch me with your cock, stevie” you teased, knowing the reaction would be instantaneous.
steve groaned at that. you knew he couldn’t, he was two hours away for a business trip, but you knew teasing him would cause his thick cock to twitch in his pants. it was turning you on to hear how turned on he was.
you whined, growing wetter and more comfortable as you felt the wetness spread “jus wanna be stretched so good, baby. want you so bad.”
you heard steve go quiet for a minute before his voice cut into the receiver again “you still have that toy? the one i got you?”
you knew exactly what he was talking about. the long and girthy dildo that stretched you wide. he’d gotten it for you a few months ago, for times exactly like this, when he couldn’t do it himself.
you reached over to your nightstand and pulled it out “mhmmm, i do. want me to use it? tonight?”
“yeah, use it. put it in slowly, lemme hear every inch going deep in that pussy” steve could picture you perfectly. pink flush running from your cheeks down your sternum, mouth open in a soundless moan and back arched slightly off the bed as your cunt accommodated the stretch of the dildo.
you whined as it stretched you, sinking it slowly into your cunt inch by inch “st- steve… i want you so bad.. wish you were here.”
“so desperate for me, huh? it’s only been a few days and you’re already all messy for me. my perfect girl who becomes such a slut when im not there to fuck into you properly. you wanna know what id do if i was there? mm?” the image of you was burning into steves mind, making him twitch and press his clothed dick harder into his hand.
heat rushed to your core, your inner walls squeezing around the silicone “yes, yes. tell me. please, baby” you moaned out as it reached deep inside you.
“id flip you over. so you were on your hands and knees for me, make you keep the dildo right where it is. then id get behind you and spread your cheeks, watch how fucking wet you are for me. watch you fuck yourself with the toy.” steves voice was rough, needy.
your eyes were squeezed shut as you listened to the filthy words leaving steves lips, breath shallow as your body trembled in euphoria.
“then i’d lean down and use my tongue. starting right from your clit, all the way down to where you’re being stretched. taste just how bad you want me.”
you were breathlessly moaning into the phone receiver, body extremely full and sensitive, desperate to orgasm. steves voice was tipping you over the edge.
“keep fucking yourself, just like that. keep it deep.”
you nodded even though he couldn’t see you, squeezing your eyes shut as your stomach fluttered and back arched off the bed.
“can’t stop thinking about your legs shaking... how you grip the sheets when you're close. i wanna feel that around me so bad” you were surprised that steve wasn’t getting himself off, you were surprised you hadn’t heard the wet sounds of his hand sliding up and down his thick cock firmly, but steve wasn’t worried about his own desperate need. steve was completely focused on your pleasure, completely enamored with making sure you felt good when he wasn’t there to do it for you.
“i’d grab your hips, baby. hold you tight when i finally replaced the dildo with my cock and fucked into you, hard and deep. make that pretty ass bounce for me.”
you were speeding up your movements, slamming the silicone into your sensitive pussy repeatedly to chase your release. steve could hear the squelching sounds of it going in and out of you. the sound of sheets rustling and muttered curses came from his side of the line. he was getting frantic.
“tell me you want me, tell me you want me filling you up. please, baby. c’mon.”
you whimpered at how desperate he sounded, you imagined his eyes were wild with need. “want you so bad. you.. fuck.. you stretch me so good”
“i know i do, god, i know. now be a good girl and make yourself cum for me. yeah?” steves voice was low and rough.
“ye-yes i can be good, ill be good” you were desperate for his praise, the words that came from his lips were sending chills down your spine as a choked gasp left your lips as your eyes shot open, your body spasming on the bed as your orgasm crashed over you.
steves breath was shaky “listen to you… so fucking beautiful when you cum. so perfect for me.”
your body went limp as you pulled the dildo out, breathing heavily as your cunt fluttered around nothing.
“fuck.. you okay, baby? you sound so beautiful. just wish i was there to hold you.”
you hummed into the phone “mhmmmm that.. was so good. i wish you were here too, i miss you so much.”
“i wanna be there so bad. wanna kiss you all over… feel you shaking against me.” steve said softly. you were quiet for awhile, your body exhausted as you attempted to catch your breath.
“i should let you sleep, love. you sound exhausted.” he sounded reluctant to get off the phone, but he knew you must’ve been tired.
“mmmkay. goodnight, baby”
“i love you” was the last thing steve said before hanging up the phone. you set the phone down back on the hook and fell fast asleep before you could even clean yourself up.
steve was pacing his hotel room, large hands tugging at his beautiful chestnut hair. his hand was still constantly pressing down on his erection, but it offered no relief. steve could lay back down, wrap his hand around his cock and make himself cum in a few minutes. but your voice and your moans were echoing in his head, he knew his hand would be nothing compared to the warmth of you. it wouldn’t even compare.
the image of you all blissed out and sleeping alone, without him, was unbearable. the thought of laying in an empty room and falling asleep with nobody to hold while he ached for you was even worse.
“screw it” was the only thing he said as he slipped on his shoes, grabbed his bag and keys, and slipped out of the motel room to head to his car.
the two hour car ride felt like forever, steves hand was gripping his wheel tightly while he shifted in his seat. he arrived at your place a little after two am and sat in his car for a long minute, looking up at your window and imagined you fast asleep. imagining what you looked like, imagining holding you. he got out of the car and made his way to the door quickly, using his key and slipping inside.
“baby?” he called out softly into the house, worried of frightening you. he continued calling it out as he opened the door to your room. he stopped as soon as it opened just watching you sleep. steve memorized the way the moonlight caught on the curve of your cheek, your hair fanned perfectly out on the pillow.
he kneeled beside the bed and carefully ran a hand through your hair. you stirred. “hey, baby. couldn’t stay away. needed to be near you” he leaned down and kissed your forehead.
“stevie.. you’re here?” you were half asleep but you felt the smile creep onto your face. you reached out weakly to pull him into bed with you.
steve went down easy, desperate for your touch. “drove the whole way just.. thinking about you” you could feel how tense his body was next to you, how he was basically thrumming with need.
you ran your hand up his torso lightly until you made your way to the nape of his neck, threading your hand into his hair. “missed you tonight” you whispered it into the room and you watched his eyes flutter from the touch. he looked starved. he pressed his head further into your hand, then leaned into your lips.
the moment your lips met, a long groan left steves mouth, it sounded like it had been building for hours. his mouth was hot and hungry on yours, his tongue fucking into your mouth immediately. his hand gripped your hip, pulling your body closer to him.
“i’ve been going crazy, out of my mind.” he murmured against your lips in between kisses.
your fingers were already tightening in his hair, pulling him closer with the same desperation that was written all over him. steves fingers started to hook into your waistband of your pjs, brushing over the skin and tugging on them.
you let out a breathy “steve….”
“yeah, baby? gotta tell me what you want. need to hear you ask for it.” he gripped your jaw in his palm, tilting your face up to meet his, tightening his hold just slightly. you could feel him shifting next to you, pressing his erection against your thigh firmly before grinding it against the skin.
“i want you, i want you to fuck me. so bad” you whined, your cunt throbbing and dripping into your panties.
“you remember what i said, don’t you? told you id get you on your knees for me, get yourself ready on that dildo.”
you nodded eagerly, desperate for friction of any kind. desperate for feeling. desperate for release now that steve was real and in front of you. just his kisses made you horny. the way he sucked in your top lip, his nose nudging against your eyelid, his brows furrowing together as he concentrated.
steve ran a hand in your hair, his eyes locked on yours as he whispered “good. so good for me, aren’t you?”
you felt your entire body shudder, your breath hitching as he shifted to pull your soaked panties and pjs down your legs. his hands were everywhere on your bare legs, squeezing your thighs and skimming his palms up and down the back of your legs as you shifted to get onto all fours on the mattress.
he reached over to grab the dildo from the nightstand, large hand wrapping around it tightly. your fingers trembled as you reached for it, taking it from his hand and reaching under you to guide it towards your still slick entrance.
whimpers left your lips the second your pussy made contact with the cold silicone, body twitching at the feeling.
“go on baby, fuck yourself for me. show me how you do it when im not here”
you pushed just the tip inside you, feeling the excruciating stretch as it went deeper and deeper. a low moan came out, eyes rolling back as you rocked your hips back on the toy.
steve watched from behind you, completely mesmerized, before his hand shifted to his sweats and boxer band to yank them down just enough for his cock to spring free. the sight of you fucking yourself combined with the sounds of pleasure pushed him past his limit. the throbbing of his cock was now unbearable to ignore.
he shifted his body to kneel in front of you, his hand stroking his dick as he bit down on his plump lower lip. his cock was eye level with you now, leaking with pre-cum smeared all over the length of him. it was clear he had been ready for hours.
“open up, baby. c’mon. wider” your lips parted immediately as he guided the head of his cock past your lips. the second your lips closed around his tip, his hips involuntarily thrusted forward, forcing himself deeper down your throat as you continued to fuck into your pussy with the silicone.
your throat relaxed, allowing him to continue deeper as saliva seeped out of the corners of your mouth and down your chin. steve was long, and thick, you could feel every inch of him pulsing inside your mouth. steve groaned as soon when you moaned around him, running a hand into your hair to gather it, holding it back for you in his fist.
the sensation of being filled everywhere was almost too much, the fullness of it all made your head spin and your inner walls clamp down while your tongue swirled messily around steves cock.
“you like having your mouth full while you get your pussy stretched, don't you? you just love being used like this, huh, baby?” steve was panting now, you could tell he wanted more. he wanted to be inside you, he wanted to replace the toy that was stretching your pussy. but you knew in order to feel him, you’d have to cum first.
your hand sped up, moving the dildo faster in and out of you to chase your release that you knew was coming any second. a high whine left your lips that were still wrapped around steves cock, your back arching and body buckling on the bed as you clamped down on the silicone and soaked it with your cum.
steve immediately pulled out of your mouth, a thick strand of saliva connecting his glistening cock to your swollen lips.
“on your back, baby. need to be inside you so bad” steve wasn’t even trying to hide it anymore, his voice came out whinier than he wanted it to. he’d been horny for so long, desperate for the feeling of your tight cunt wrapped around him since he got on the phone.
the second you were on your back his hands gripped your thighs, pushing them apart to settle in the space between. “look at you. so wet and open f’me. aren’t you?”
your eyes were locked on his, panting and still shaking from your orgasm. “steve… please, i want you to fill me, please”
you watched as a smirk formed on his face and he reached back to pull his t shirt off, his chest rising and falling rapidly. he knew how hot he was, he always stood there and let you look your fill because he knew how much you loved seeing steve shirtless. he had the perfect amount of chest hair across his chest that trailed all the way down towards his aching cock. your hands reached up to rest on his hips, running your hands over the skin of his soft tummy.
steve leaned forward, hovering over you before the thick head of his cock pressed against your entrance, his fingers now digging into your flesh as he entered you in one movement and began a brutal pace inside of you. slamming his cock into you repeatedly before he replaced it with a slow and deep grinding roll of his hips that pressed him impossibly deep.
it was an exquisite kind of agony, each thrust stretching you in a way the toy could never achieve. you could feel the thickness of him being squeezed by your oversensitive walls. each time he pulled back you felt a desperate emptiness that only lasted a few seconds before he was filling you again. your body always struggled to accommodate steves length, the tip of him nudged at a spongy spot deep inside you that sent jolts all throughout your nerves.
“god, baby…. always taking my cock so good. fuck- barely fucking fits” steve gritted his teeth as his hand moved to press down on your lower stomach, feeling how it’d bulge with every slow grind. the firm pressure of his hand pressing down made you gasp, the feeling amplifying how full you are.
your back arched up, eyes rolling back as you moaned continuously “mmmmmph, feels so good. steve.. fuck, im gonna-“ all your words were dissolving into breathy moans and gasps as your body reached its third orgasm. your legs trembling on the bed, body jolting with each motion of steves hips.
the sensation was immediately too much for steve. the oversensitivity of it all after he denied himself for hours sent him over the edge as he felt you clench around his thick cock.
steve pushed in deep and you felt his body still, then shudder as your pussy milked him, cum coating your insides. his cock pulsed inside of you over and over again before he leaned down on top of you to kiss your sweat dampened cheeks.
both of you were trembling and sensitive as you laid together before he slowly pulled out of you and he shifted to lay beside you, gathering you in his arms and brushing the stray hairs out of your face gently.
“you drive me crazy, you know? can’t even leave for three days without going insane.”
you smiled a little breathlessly against his chest, your fingers toying with the thick hair that rested there. “yeah? guess that means you can’t ever leave me again, hmm?”
steve brought his hand up to your jaw gently, tilting your head back to meet his eyes so he could press his lips to yours, murmuring with a soft smile on his face “oh i don’t plan to, baby”
-
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Help me title a Werewolf!RoyKent x Witch!OC fic based on a song!
She Calls Me Love (Banda AL9) -- Even the Moon Wishes it Was Me
The Whole of the Moon (The Waterboys) -- Whole of the Moon
Voting ended onApr 30
Both of these songs sound like Ted Lasso, and both have the moon as a theme (kind of), but I don't know which sounds more like a Roy-Kent-is-a-Werewolf fic
Help me title a Werewolf!RoyKent x Witch!OC fic based on a song!
She Calls Me Love (Banda AL9) -- Even the Moon Wishes it Was Me
The Whole of the Moon (The Waterboys) -- Whole of the Moon
Voting ended onApr 30
Both of these songs sound like Ted Lasso, and both have the moon as a theme (kind of), but I don't know which sounds more like a Roy-Kent-is-a-Werewolf fic
The creature I become while ovulating is truly strange
I want a spoonful of marshmallow fluff
And also to be dicked tf down, but nobody look at me
Locking myself in a room to write, but nobody can read it bc I’m processing just how kinky I am even though I’m married to the most vanilla man I’ve ever met and it’s vulnerable somehow
Also every noise my cat makes sets my teeth on edge, but I can’t be mad at him because he’s a cute wittle baby with toe beans
A/N: So... is Rodrick Heffley the reason I have a thing for emo men? Inconclusive, but I did have a major crush on this character when these came out and I thought I was the only one somehow? I dunno, anyway I'm so glad he's made a come back in the rogina / rodrina ship. This is not that, because I am a coward, and I have trauma to work through via writing
CW: SMUT (Minors, cmon, DNI), mostly plot with a liiiiiittle bit of porn at the end, oral F and M receiving, Switch/Bottom!Rodrick, Top!Reader
NSFW under the cut
Part 1
Greg’s friend Rowley opened the door. He smiled, cute kid. “Hi, Y/N.”
“Hey Rowley, hanging with Greg?”
“Yeah, they’re starting a Dungeons and Dragons group at school this year, so we’re making our characters.”
“Niiiiiice.”
Mrs. Heffley appeared behind him and opened the door wider. “Y/N, what a nice surprise. Come on in.” She turned to call up the stairs. “Rodrick! Y/N’s here!”
There was a thump, and a crash, and a muffled curse. “Just a second!”
She pointed up the stairs with her thumb. “I’m sure he’s fine. Make yourself comfortable, are you staying for dinner?”
“Uh, actually-“
“No. Nope. We’ve gotta go.” Rodrick came flying down the stairs, wearing a short sleeve button down and ripped jeans, and was struggling with a necktie.
“Are you wearing a tie?” you asked, amused.
He took it off quick and stuffed it in his back pocket. “No.”
Mrs. Heffley asked, “Well where are you going? Somewhere fun?”
Mr. Heffley came around the corner from the basement. “Who’s going where? Rodrick? Are you wearing my cologne?”
“Jesus, no Dad. What is this, Jeapordy?”
“Hang on,” Greg piped up from the couch. “Y/N’s here, Rodrick showered today, cleaned out his fugly van, and put on cologne? They’re going on a date!”
Rodrick glared daggers at his younger brother, and made a slashing motion against his throat.
“Wait.” Mr. Heffley pointed at you. “You’re going on a date? With our son?”
“Um, yep.”
“With Rodrick?”
“Well, I’m not gonna go on a date with Greg, so.”
Greg made a gagging sound.
“Watch it,” Rodrick growled.
Mrs. Heffley clapped and hugged you, saying, “Finally. I knew this day would come.”
“Mom,” Rodrick pleaded.
Mr. Heffley still didn’t quite get it. “But you, you got into college. You’re going to have a real job.”
“That is correct.”
“And you’re going on a date with this?” He gestured to Rodrick, whose cheeks were deep red.
“Yeah, I think that sums it up.”
“And your parents know about this.”
“Uh huh, Rodrick, should we? Let’s go, maybe?”
“Oh thank god,” he said, pushing past his parents. “Bye! Don’t wait up!”
You ignored his parents staring at you through the window. “Cologne, huh?”
“Figured I should try just a little, you know. You look nice.”
“Thanks,” you said, doing a quick little twirl. “You too.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah. Where are we going?”
The door of Rodrick’s van whined as he opened it for you. “It’s a surprise?”
“Ooh, romantic. Thank you.”
His shoulders relaxed almost imperceptibly, and he shut your door to do a quick fist pump he thought you couldn’t see. While he walked around the front of the van to get to the driver’s side, you peeked into the back seat. The actual seats had been removed years ago to make room for Loded Diper’s equipment for gigs, but he had in fact cleaned pretty thoroghly. Not a pizza box in sight.
The driver’s side door creaked even louder than the passenger’s as Rodrick all but jumped in and slammed the key in the ignition. Loded Diper’s EP started blowing your eardrums out. The van lurched away from the curb.
“I coulda picked you up, you know. Would’ve avoided that nonsense.”
“Nah, my parents are out of town, so naturally they asked our neighbors to watch the front door like a hawk.”
He looked at you, eyebrows raised. “But not the backyard?”
Shaking your head, you answered, “Not the backyard. Which will only be relevant to you if this goes well.”
“Pfft. This is gonna go great. We’ve already gotten to third base, a date will be a breeze.”
“Rodrick, what do you think home base is?”
“Butt stuff?”
You laughed, looked at his dopey grin, and laughed harder. “Eyes on the road, rockstar.”
The van grumbled all the way to the mall, and squealed in protest when Rodrick put it in park. You could’ve guessed, when the guys wanted somewhere free to hang that wasn’t Rodrick’s garage, the mall was the top pick. Soft pretzels, quarter rides, and no Mrs. Heffley finding excuses to linger.
Rodrick liked to make “station nachos” which were potato chips, french fries, nacho cheese, and hot dogs he’d cut up with his pocket knife. Though this was typically assembled at the gas station on the corner, the food court’s offerings were close enough. It had been so long since you let yourself be in his presence, let alone with your guard down, that it didn’t matter that you’d done this a million times since he got his driver’s license.
Between the butterflies in your stomach, and the massive, frozen sugar bomb you were drinking, your whole body buzzed. You took a long sip of your blue slurpee, and had to stop walking. “Oh,” you squeaked, hand on your forehead.
“Huh?”
“Brainfreeze.”
He watched you power through with amusement, then his gaze flicked down to your mouth. “C’mon.”
“What?”
He shook his head and pulled you into a photobooth. There was not enough room for both of you, possibly by design of the makers of photobooths, so when you followed him in, you ended up on his lap.
“Well, hi,” you said, laughing.
“Hey,” he said. His voice had adopted that half an octave lower quality he used when trying to sound cool.
“So,” you pulled the curtain closed, “did you want a picture? Or did you just wanna make out?”
He shrugged, hand at the small of your back. “Both?”
“Cool.”
He shoved some coins into the slot and pressed a couple buttons absently before pulling you flush against him. Your small noise of surprise was muffled by the camera shutter sound effect from the booth.
Those stupid fucking eyelashes. There was never a chance for you, was there?
You stared at him, eyes wide. He smirked. Your cheeks heated.
Well then. He wanted pictures of the making out, then? Fine.
You pulled him in by the collar, wishing for a brief moment that he had worn the tie. His mouth was cold and tasted like cherry slush.
Eventually, the shutter sounds stopped coming, and you tumbled out of the booth.
The first photo, before you’d started sucking face, had you looking at Rodrick wide eyed and infatuated, but it was his expression, open and wanting, that sent a twinge of need through places you didn’t know could be affected. Like your fingers - what was up with that?
The second was you kissing with your hands gripping his collar, then one of him biting your neck. The last two were almost the same photo of you in a heated lip lock, but the last was mostly blocked by Rodrick’s painted middle finger up at the camera.
You laughed. “I want the first two.”
“Works for me.” Rodrick ripped those off the film strip and handed them over. He pocketed the rest and grabbed your hand. “There’s one more thing I wanna do.”
*~*~*
Twenty minutes later, you unbuckled your seatbelt in a new parking lot. “Roller skating? It’s a Monday night.”
He grinned mischievously. “So we’ll have the place to ourselves and get in for half off.”
You shook your head, and followed him in. The roller rink was never your fist choice, the clunky skates made it hard for you to remain upright. Every now and again, though, when someone had money left over from an allowance or something, you’d end up here, watching the guys make fools of themselves on wheels.
Inside, the light ball from Spencers’ Gifts cast a rainbow on a mostly deserted wooden rink. Pop music echoed out of the speakers, and the DJ waved despondently as you came in. There was no one behind the snack counter.
Rodrick watched the clock while you laced your skates. He gave the DJ a thumbs up, and the music switched abruptly to a slow jam.
You looked at him, confused, when he offered you a hand. “Seriously? You always made fun of losers who did couples’ skate.”
He shrugged, “Yeah, ‘cause I didn’t have anyone to skate with.”
You took his hand and were pulled to your feet. You rolled toward him involuntarily, and had to use him as an equally unstable anchor. “I would’ve skated with you.”
“Well yeah, I know that now.”
Rodrick was surprisingly sure on his feet, and pulled you smoothly into the rink.
Your heart sunk, thinking of all the time lost. “God, you must think I’m the biggest drama queen ever.”
He paused, sifting through answers, trying to find the one that’d land him in the least amount of trouble. “I think,” he said slowly, “something I did hurt you. Even if I didn’t mean to. And I don’t wanna do that again.”
You blinked. “That was, that sounded really emotionally adjusted. Are you feeling okay? Was it something you ate?”
He snorted. “I know things, I’m ‘adjusted.’” It was your turn to laugh. “I am! I’ve been to a single therapy session.”
“Really? Why?”
“Mom made me go last summer. Thought it’d help me work through my life goals or whatever. Ha, poor Dr. Whatever-His-Name-Was.”
“Oh no, how did you torture a therapist?”
“Oh, I just stole a bunch of stuff I read in Greg’s diaries. He said he couldn’t treat whatever’s wrong with me, and then his… what’s the? The thing? Where they, like, send you to somebody better?”
“A referral?”
“Yeah, way too expensive, like an hour away. So, Mom thinks he was a quack, Dad never believed in therapy anyway. Victory is mine.”
“I missed you.”
He threaded his fingers through yours. “Yeah?”
“Yeah. A lot, actually.”
“Awesome. I don’t wanna be friends.”
“What?” You stumbled on your skates.
“Fuck, no, that’s not what I mean. I wanna be more than friends.”
You nudged him in the ribs. “Why the hell would you say it like that?”
He laughed, “Sorry.”
“You have to get better at your delivery.” Your angry expression cracked, and you started laughing too. “I wanna be more than friends too. Obviously."
“Cool.”
“So,” you started, stomach fluttering again, “if you appeared at my window at some point later, I’d let you in.”
He smirked. “Really?”
“Uh huh. We could participate in some more-than-friends activities. You could stay over if you wanted. I’ve got a couple B monster movies from Blockbuster burning a hole in my DVD player, a bunch of snacks left over from the other night. I can touch up this nail polish. Any of this piquing your interest?”
He started steering you towards the opening in the rink wall. “Yep. Yes. Let’s go.”
Rodrick parked the van in front of his house at your request, and said, “Gimme, like, thirty minutes,” before planting a sloppy kiss on your cheek and barreling up the sidewalk.
Once you got inside your house, you turned off the porch light and headed upstairs to your bedroom, to wait for Rodrick and change into something more comfortable.
Then, your phone rang again.
“Hey Heather,” you said, laying on the floor.
“Hey, how was your date with Teenage Dirtbag?”
You grinned. “Good. Like, really good.”
“Really?” she drawled, unconvinced. “Because if you’re talking to me, you aren’t making his life in the back of that ridiculous van.”
“Funny you should mention that?”
“Oh?” her voice perked notably.
“He’s sneaking over, hopefully soon.”
She laughed. “I’m so proud. Use protection.”
“Obviously.”
There was a creak at your window that drew your attention away from your phone. You sat up to see Rodrick pinned halfway inside your bedroom by the window.
“Ow, shit, let me in,” he hissed, legs scrambling against the roof.
“Gotta go, bye” you said quickly into your phone. Heather made some obnoxious kissing noises into the phone before you could hang up. You opened the window wider so Rodrick could tumble through it.
“Hey.”
“Hey,” he said, out of breath. “Sorry, Greg and Rowley would not take the hint. They’re still arguing about witches or wizards or warlocks or some shit. I had to crawl out the bathroom window.”
“My hero. Movie first? Or…”
Rodrick grinned, and didn’t waste any time getting you under him on your hastily made bed and slotting a thigh between your legs. He kissed you with soft insistence that zipped straight through you. And his mouth tasted like… spearmint? Did he brush his teeth before coming over?
He sat up, fingers brushing the hem of your hoodie that had ridden up along your waist. The front of his pants had tightened significantly from the sizeable bulge of his hardening dick. Fuck.
But then he caught you looking, and grinned. His fingers dipped under the hoodie. “Can I?” You nodded, and his hands disappeared up your stomach to your chest, where he found the bare curve of your breasts. The noise he made at this discovery was somewhere in the realm of disbelief. His head fell forward to the crook of your neck while his hands explored you.
Thumbs circled your nipples, and he hummed in approval at their stiffness. He licked a long stripe up your neck and nipped your ear.
Never in your wildest, most secret fantasies did you imagine him being this good at unraveling you with simple touches. Clearly, he had put in a considerable amount of “practice,” and you had to shove the unfair feeling of jealousy down. It wasn’t as if you’d never practiced yourself.
“Mm, Rodrick?”
He backed off a bit, just enough for you to sit up and shimmy out of your sweatshirt. “Huh? Oh.” The syllable got stuck in the back of his throat. He sighed, dazed and smiling. “Awesome.”
You laughed, and threaded your fingers through his hair to him back down to your lips. A tangle caught on your thumb and pulled; he whimpered into your mouth.
Not a moan, not a groan, a whimper. A loud one, too.
He paused, eyes wide.
You asked carefully, “Do you like having your hair pulled, Rodrick?”
He nodded.
“Is there anything else you like you’d want me to do?” You pushed some hair out of his face. “It’s okay to ask, baby.”
“Uh,” he swallowed. “Like what?”
“Anything, really. Pet names, no pet names. A praise kink I should know about.” You paused, watching his cheeks flush. You offered, “I liked when you called me princess. I think it’s what made me come.”
“Really?”
“Yeah, it was hot. Just tell me what you want.” He flopped next to you, blushing furiously. Finally, you guessed, “Do you need me to top you?”
“Uh,” he cleared his throat, “Yeah. Is that okay?”
You grinned. “Of course it is. I’m gonna take care of you, don’t worry. But first, I’m gonna need you to get rid of this,” your fingers brushed the hem of his shirt, then the waist of his jeans, “and these.”
He hopped up and set to stripping. You smirked, and propped yourself up on your elbows to watch him undress. He yanked down his jeans, and stumbled around a bit because he forgot to take off his shoes first.
You had him sit against the headboard on the bed, took off your own yoga pants, and straddled him. He was almost to the point of drooling, watching every movement with rapt attention. His hands drifted up your sides.
You tutted, “No touching, not yet. Be good and your reward will be,” you brushed your clothed pussy against his trapped erection, and murmured in his ear, “me.”
He moaned, breathy and submissive, letting you hold his hands at his sides while you sucked at the curve where his neck met shoulder.
You palmed him through his boxers. “Do you want me to suck your dick, baby?” He nodded sharply. “Tell me if it’s too much.”
You shifted down his legs, pulling his boxers off and freeing his erection. His dick bobbed in the air, leaking beads of precum. His breathing turned heavy as you gathered saliva in your hands and rubbed it over his length.
“There’s nobody but me to hear you, baby, let it out,” you encouraged, circling the head of him with your fingers. You flattened your tongue against the shaft and licked a long stripe up the side. He groaned, head falling back against the headboard. “Good boy.”
His dick twitched in your hand. You filed that away for later.
You swirled your tongue around his head, spreading as much saliva over him as possible, before taking him into your mouth. With every bob of your head, he mewled under you. When you hollowed your cheeks, he whimpered again.
You took your mouth off him and held him steady. “Too much? Use your words, baby.”
“No, fuck, please. Keep going.”
Satisfied, you put your lips back around him and continued to pleasure him. Every breath perfection, every moan a song. His muscles tensed and twiched.
You kept your rhythm going with your hands to ask, “Do you want to come in my mouth?”
“Shit,” he said, eyes screwed shut. “Can I?”
“Yes, whenever you’re ready. Come for me.”
No more than two more bobs of your head had him spurting down your throat in long ropes with a whine. You swallowed around him, throat tensing against his cockhead, and he twitched with every sensation.
You released him and wiped the corner of your mouth. “You taste like heaven,” you said. He swallowed, watching you suck his cum off your finger. “Do you want to taste yourself on me?”
He nodded, so you crawled back up his naked form to straddle him again. You guided his hands up to your waist. “You can touch now. Did so good.”
He gripped you fervently, pulling your chest against his, and kissed you deeply. When he could finally taste what you tasted, he moaned into your mouth. You dove your fingers back into his hair and pulled lightly, relishing the way he wiggled.
His eyes were dark again, when he looked at you and said, “I can feel how wet you are.”
You tilted your head. “What would you like to do about that?”
“Let me eat you out. Please.”
“Well,” you said, “since you said please.”
He flipped you back under him before you could think about it and stuffed a pillow under your back. Situated between your legs, he pulled off your underwear and hooked your knees over his shoulders.
His fingers traced a path up your slit, gathering your wetness. He looked up at your face from under those perfect eyelashes. “Mine?”
Full of affection and desire, you tilted your head and confirmed, “Yours.”
His fingers took their time, rubbing and teasing the outside of your lips gently, as he kissed a path from one of your knees to your inner thigh. You sighed, and wound his hair around your fingers again when he licked a long stripe up your dripping pussy. Then, his tongue pushed past your lips to swirl at your entrance, his thumbs pulling them open to give his tongue better access.
You moaned, trying to keep still, and encouraged, “That’s good, baby.”
The fabric of your comforter bunched under your hands, as he gathered your wetness on his tongue and moved north to slather it over your clit. He flicked the nub with his tongue then went around it in little circles.
“Fuck!” you cried, when his lips attached to you and he sucked. “Yeah, that’s good. Just like that. Fuck, Rodrick.”
He groaned against you, eyes flicking open to watch the heaving of your chest with every breath. Your entrance clenched around him as he slid two fingers in. The way he curled them had you seeing stars, and every languid suck on your clit had your back arching.
“Shit, shit, shit. Hold my hips down, I’m getting close.”
“Fuck, really?”
“Yes, so don’t stop, and don’t go changing anything.” His mouth reattached to your pussy as he fingered you slowly. Heat gathered in your gut, and the coil within you wound tighter, tighter. “More, more,” you begged, “That feels so good, please, please, don’t stop.”
Your fingers pulled at his hair, your anchor. He unhooked your knees from your shoulders, and held you open with one arm pinning them against your sides. You moaned and writhed as he worked you through the orgasm.
Your legs shook and he let them fall back to the bed, limp, once you came down from the high. “Shit,” you said breathlessly, “that was great.”
Rodrick flopped next to you, equally out of breath. “That was hot, is what it was. Thanks.”
You hummed. “You’re right, that was a killer blowjob. You’re welcome.”
“I mean. Shit. It was. I mean, thanks for doing that. I don’t like being in charge all the time.”
“You’re a switch, babe. I can work with that. Best of both worlds, really. So, good boy?”
“Yeah, if you say that again I’m gonna get hard again, so. With great power and all that.”
Your eyebrow raised. “Noted. Movie break?”
“Please, I am starving.”
Between rounds one and two, you ended up on the couch with a popcorn bucket in hand watching Piranhaconda, scrubbing the sharpie off Rodrick’s nails with acetone so you could paint them with actual nail polish. The polish dried, and you put in Lake Placid next as the sun finally fully set in the summer sky.
Round two began halfway through the second movie, when you paused the film and said, “I need a shower. You coming?”
“Depends. Was the innuendo on purpose?”
You smirked and pulled him off the couch. “I think you can just assume that all the innuendos are on purpose.”
A/N: I love the Rodrina ship, but I am not confident enough to write from Regina George's perspective, so... here you go. I also think I had a couple things to process from being in love with my own best friend for most of high school... it did not go as well as it goes here, but ha! fiction!
CW: SMUT (Minors, cmon, DNI), mostly plot with a liiiiiittle bit of porn at the end, semi-public sex (in a bathroom?), fingering, protected p in v, oral F receiving
NSFW under the cut
“Come with us,” Rodrick said. “It’ll be fun,” he said. “The guys are bringing girls they met at a gig, so you round out the group,” he said.
And you, hopelessly in love with the biggest loser you’d ever laid eyes upon, had said, “Fine, I’ll go to prom with you.”
Which is how you ended up standing in a black dress that brushed your ankles by the coral reef exhibit at the aquarium, listening to Rodrick complain about the band.
His tie hadn’t lasted long, and was draped around his neck, bunching where his arms crossed over his chest. Dark eyeliner made his unfairly long eyelashes look even thicker in the moody lighting. “We just have to get some groupies,” he shouted over the drone of pop music. “No one cares about us right now, but once we get into some real gigs, our big break will be right around the corner.”
You rolled your eyes. It was always the same conversation once you got him started. He seemed to forget that you’d been Loded Diper’s first groupie since day one. The Heffley’s had been your neighbors since grade school. You’d grown up with Rodrick, had been at Loded Diper’s first show, had begged him to name the band something, anything else. But now, you were tired of feeling like an afterthought.
“I care, dude.”
“Pfft. You don’t count.”
The words hit you like a punch. Years of following him around, forgiving him for ditching you to flirt with some hot stranger after a show, telling yourself that it was fine if he never felt the way you felt as long as you could be friends, they all came crashing down around you.
Because he was right, you don’t count. You don’t matter.
He tried to recover, “Shit that’s not what I meant.”
Your eyes swam. “Fuck you.”
He had the sense not to follow you as you pushed through the throng of high schoolers grinding on each other to T Pain, and all but fell through the bathroom door. Two girls fixing their hair at the counter took one look at your face, shared a look, and made a bee line back to the dance floor.
A soft looking grey bench called your name, and you sank onto it, surrendering to the tears. Part of you understood the sobbing noises you were trying to stifle were dramatic. Rodrick was a dumbass, you knew this - everyone knew this. It should’ve come as no surprise that he was also an asshole.
The door opened, and you sat up to compose yourself.
Heather Hills, pink and sparkly and perfect, stared at you. “Oh boy,” she said, locking the door behind her.
Here we go, you thought, bracing yourself for whatever cruelty she could spit your way.
But then she sat next to you, and said, “You okay?”
“Uh,” you croaked. “Yeah. Fine.”
“I saw you fighting with Rodrick Heffley. Did you guys come together, or?”
You laughed mirthlessly. “No. Absolutely not. Just a group thing.”
“So, you’re like totally in love with him.” You stared at her, dumbfounded. She got up, brushing the wrinkles out of the tulle in her skirt, and offered you a hand. “Come on. I’ve got mascara in my purse you can use.”
You followed her to the sink, where she wet a tissue and set to blotting off the smudges under your eyes. “Why are you being so nice to me?”
Her eyes twinkled with amusement. “Believe it or not, I’m only bitchy to douchebags who ruin my birthday parties.”
“I forgot he did that,” you said, laughing, “What a dick.”
She took another second to observe you, in that Queen Bee, Apex Predator kind of way, then nodded. “I’d better get back to my date. You gonna be alright?”
“Yeah. Thanks. Really.”
“Cool. See you around.”
*~*~*~*
But all of that was last year, and you hadn’t voluntarily spoken to Rodrick since. A feat made possible by the fact that while you had gotten into the state school, he had attended the community college in town. Or at least, that’s what you heard. You definitely weren’t resorting to surveillance tactics to avoid him.
Summer break between your freshman and sophomore years had treated you nicely, and your parents had just gone out of town, leaving you a blissful week of solitude.
Which is how you ended up walking home from the market at the corner, paper bag full of snacks, skin care, and a bath bomb. You’d checked that Rodrick’s van wasn’t in front of his house before you left, and that had been your mistake.
The van slowed to a crawl to match your pace as the window rolled down. “Y/N! Hey!” His voice still sent a warm shiver up your spine.
“Hi Rodrick,” you said coldly, not looking away from the sidewalk.
The back door rolled open. “Hey Y/N,” said Chris.
“Hi Y/N,” said Ben.
“Hey guys.”
“You coming to our gig tonight?” Chris asked.
“No, maybe next time.”
Rodrick huffed. “Cmon, didn’t you hear? Y/N doesn’t care about the band anymore, ‘cause she’s been mad at me since graduation.”
“I’m not mad, we’re just not friends.”
“Ouch,” mumbled Ben.
The van screeched to a halt, drawing protests from Chris and Ben that Rodrick ignored as he jumped out of the drivers’ seat to get in your way.
“What the hell, man?” they said in unison.
Rodrick turned to you, angry, and grumbled, “Yeah, what the hell, man?”
“You’re in my way.”
“We’ve been friends since grade school, and now you won’t even tell me why we aren’t anymore?”
You pushed passed him. “The fact that you have no idea what went wrong is part of why we’re not friends.”
“Well can you give me a hint?”
“Why do you care? I don’t even count, remember?”
“Prom?” he said, leaving Ben and Chris behind as he followed you. “That’s what this is about?”
“Wow, you’re so smart.”
“That wasn’t even what I meant. It’s not my fault you wouldn’t let me explain!”
You turned around, getting in his face. “Doesn’t matter what you meant. It only mattered that it was true. Now stop following me.”
*~*~*~*
Some indie band a guy at your college recommended crooned about a lost love as you ate chips, watermelon face mask clinging to your skin. The bridge had just started when your phone rang.
You turned off the CD player and anwered, “Yeah?”
Heather Hills’ voice chimed, “Hey! Listen, can I ask a huge favor?”
“Uh, sure?”
“If I conference call my parents, can you tell them I’m sleeping over at your house?”
You laughed, “Yeah, no problem. Party?”
“Yep. It’s gonna be huge.” She paused. “I can get you an invite if you want?”
“No, thanks.”
“I figured, but just in case.”
“I appreciate the thought, but you were right the first time. Parents?”
“Calling.”
There was a beep, a ring, and then Mrs. Hills’ voice came through next. “Heather? Can you hear me?”
“We can hear you, Mom,” she replied flatly.
“Hey Mrs. Hills,” you said, flopping back down onto your bed.
She sounded surprised, “Y/N, how are you?”
“Good.”
“Listen, Mom,” Heather cut in, “I’m at the mall right now, but I’m coming over to Y/N’s after. Soon. Right?”
“Yep, that’s the plan.”
She didn’t sound convinced, “Well, as long as it’s okay with your parents. Can I talk to them?”
Heather tried to answer, “No, actually, because -“
“They just went out of town. Work trip,” you cut in. “That’s why I invited Heather over, actually.”
“Oh,” she said, seemingly mollified. “If that’s the case, why don’t you join us for a party tomorrow? It’s Holly’s fourteenth. I’m sure she wouldn’t mind.”
“Uh,” you waffled.
“Yeah, that’d be great Mom. We’ll come over together after some coffee in the morning.”
“Sounds good, sweetheart. Have fun, you two.”
You waited for the beep of Mrs. Hills disconnecting, then asked, “Really? A birthday party?”
Heather let out a breath. “I’ll owe you one. Two.”
“Yeah, okay. But you’re picking me up, and don’t get too hammered. I do not want your mom asking my mom if they keep a lock on the liquor cabinet.”
“Fair. See you tomorrow,” she said, hanging up.
Heather Hills being a friend of yours had come as a surprise to you both. During orientation week, you’d been assigned to the same group of freshmen to get dinner together once a week, and things had just gone from there. She had her group, and you had yours, but the both of you still hung out maybe once or twice a month during the semester.
If Rodrick knew, he’d never stop hounding you to give him her number.
You pushed that thought away as quickly as it came. Being home made it difficult not to think about him, but darn it, you had to try.
*~*~*~*
Heather came by your house at ten in the morning, take out coffee cups in hand. She had you change your outfit twice before letting you get into her car. Once you got to the Hills’ house, you changed, wished Holly a happy birthday, and set to tying ribbon around little gift bags with Heather. Then the doorbell rang.
Holly, dolled up to the Nth degree, lit up. “That must be Greg. I’ll get it!”
A ball of molten lead swirled in your gut. “Greg?” you whispered to Heather, who was curling ribbing with a pair of scissors.
“Her boyfriend.” She made a fake gagging sound. “Oh, shit. Crap, I forgot.”
It was clear what she forgot immediately, but you hoped you were wrong. “Forgot what?”
Greg Heffley, a foot taller since the last time you saw him, hefted a chaotically wrapped gift into one arm to half-hug Holly. Mr. and Mrs. Heffley came in next, Manny holding each of their hands between them. Mrs. Hills bustled over, giving Mrs. Heffley one of those rich people kisses at the air next to her face.
You sunk lower and lower in your chair.
“I forgot the whole family was coming,” Heather hissed at you. “Hey, what are you doing? Hiding is not going to help.”
“Yes it will.”
“No, sit up. You’re out of his league. Act like it.”
Shit, she was right. You straightened your spine just as Rodrick came trailing through. The sleeves of his dress shirt had been rolled up haphazardly to his elbows, and his hair had that trademark tousle.
His mom saw you before he did, saying, “Y/N! I didn’t know you know the Hills.”
Rodrick looked at you, slack jawed, for half a second before feigning intense interest in the party decor.
You stood up, brushing wrinkles out of your knee length dress. “Hi Mrs. Heffley, good to see you. Holly was nice enough to let me crash, but she didn’t tell me she started dating.”
Holly grinned at you. Greg never took his eyes off her. Cute couple.
“Well, we’re here early,” Mr. Heffley changed the subject. “Direct us.”
Mrs. Hills pointed at Greg and Rodrick, “I need my big strong men to help us get the tables ready. Susan, Hanna’s in the playroom if you want to take Manny up.”
“Thank you,” she said, relieved. “Say bye, Manny.”
Manny gave a small wave, and allowed his mom to usher him out of the room.
Mrs. Hills herded Greg, Rodrick, and Mr. Heffley out to the veranda, tossing back at you, “You girls just finish up there and let me know if you run out of ribbon.”
Once Rodrick was out of sight, Heather mouthed to you, “Oh my god.”
You groaned, and hid your face with a gift bag.
Mrs. Hills mercifully kept Rodrick busy while guests arrived and the DJ started his set, but then he found a spot in a corner to brood. You felt his gaze follow you from the table where a couple of Heather’s other friends politely tolerated you to the punch bowl and back again.
His face was like a magnet, and it took everything in you not to check if he was still looking at you.
Heather had no such qualms, and said, “Are you going to put him out of his misery?”
You shook your head. “Maybe in an hour.”
Bethany, or maybe Barbie, you could never remember, said, “Is that Rodrick? From that poop themed band?”
“Yep.”
“Ew.”
“I agree.” Heather rolled her eyes at you.
Bethany tilted her head. “He’s not so bad to look at, though. Needs a haircut.”
You bristled, and then shoved down the feeling of jealousy. Maybe you couldn’t wait the hour.
Heather smirked at you. “I want you to know,” she started, “I am judging, and I expect every detail later. Go on.”
You started over to Rodrick’s table, slowly in your wedge shoes that Heather had picked out for you.
“Hey,” he said, quiet.
“Come on,” you tossed your head towards the door. “Let’s not do this here.”
He followed you out of the party tent, where the birthday girl had just started to slow dance with her first boyfriend, and inside.
You turned on your heel to face him. “Well?”
“What?”
“Do you need another hint?”
“How long have you been friends with Heather Hills?”
Your eyes narrowed. “Since prom.”
He nodded. “So that is what this is about.”
“I literally said that yesterday.”
“No, I said that yesterday.”
Your hands curled into fists. God, he had only gotten more infuriating since high school. A passing caterer holding a plate of bacon wrapped figs kept you from absolutely losing it on him.
“What do you want, Rodrick?”
“Will you let me explain?”
You crossed your arms. “Fine.”
“I only meant that you don’t count because you’re basically part of the band. Were. Anyway.”
“Yeah, well -“
“Obviously I didn’t say it like that, but if you had let me explain a year ago -“
“It doesn’t matter what you meant. It mattered that it was true.”
“No, it wasn’t.”
“Yes it was! I followed you around for years -“ Another caterer, with a tray of shrimp, gave you a side eye as they passed. You opened the closest door, to a hall bathroom, and growled, “Get in.”
Rodrick pulled the door shut behind him as you continued in a whisper, “I came to your shows, I did your math homework for you, I watched you flirt with every girl with a pulse.”
“What does that have to do with anything?”
“Nothing. But I was always just there. And I couldn’t do that anymore.”
The corner of his mouth quirked up. “You were into me, weren’t you?”
Heat flooded your cheeks. “No,” you lied.
But Rodrick and his built in lie detector had latched onto the idea. He smirked and wagged a finger at you, “Nuh uh, you were into me, and then what? Were mad I didn’t notice?”
“That’s not,” you sputtered. “Stop putting words in my mouth.”
“Well, are you still into me?”
“No!”
He laughed. “You are! We-e-ell, lucky me.”
You leaned against the counter behind you. “This can’t be happening.”
“So, we should just go out then?”
“What?”
He shrugged. “You’re into me, I’m into you, seems like the thing to do.”
You glowered up at him. “Don’t even joke, Heffley.”
“What makes you think I’m joking?” he asked, leaning against the wall.
“Uh, our entire friendship up until this point? Do you remember in tenth grade, when the bottle landed on me for seven minutes in heaven? When you said it was against your religion to kiss your sister?”
“Well, yeah.”
“And then you went in with some girl from another school instead.”
“Again, yeah. I’d never kissed a girl before, and I didn’t want to practice with someone who actually mattered.”
Your field of vision shrunk to his stupid, pretty face, and the fists at your sides started to shake. “But-but, Heather-“
“Is crazy hot. Do you think I can’t think two girls are hot at the same time?”
With every word, you felt your blood boil. A hot tear seared down your cheek before you could stop it. He backed off just a little.
“What’d I say? Why’re you sad?”
“I’m not sad, you dumbass,” you choked, blotting under your eyes. “I’m so angry my body doesn’t have anywhere else to put it.”
He took a step towards you, which was a feat in itself given the size of the room. “I’ve got somewhere you can put it.”
“God, if that’s your idea of a come on,” you snapped. But then your traitorous eyes flicked down to his lips, mere inches from your face, and your resolve collapsed. The first few buttons of his shirt came undone under the forcefulness of your grasp as you pulled him towards you. He groaned into your mouth and gripped you hard at your waist.
“Fucking finally,” he grumbled against your lips.
Your hands fumbled with the rest of the buttons on his shirt. “You’re the fucking worst, do you know that?”
He shrugged the shirt off, locked the door, and let you pull off the Loded Diper tshirt he’d repurposed as an undershirt, all while grinning. Black hair had sprouted along his chest since the last time you’d seen him shirtless, and he had a tattoo of a skull and crossbones (but the bones were actually drumsticks, of course) on one side of his ribs.
“When did you get this?” you asked, fingers trailing along the tattoo lightly.
He shivered. “Last summer.”
“Did it hurt?”
“No. Yeah. Like a bitch.”
“Good.”
“You’re hot when you’re mad.”
“I’m glad you think so, because I am livid.”
“Yeah, I can tell you’re alive.”
You groaned. Why did he have to be so hot, and so, so dumb? It was unfair. You threaded your fingers through his hair and dragged his lips back to yours just to keep him from saying anything else. His hands fell from your waist to your ass, then down to your thighs as he lifted you up to set you on the counter and slot his hips between your legs. He licked into your mouth before moving his attention to the side of your neck just below your ear.
Surprised, you quietly exclaimed, “Oh!” The scrape of his teeth against your skin and the soft suck that followed had your hips wiggling against him before you could stop yourself.
Rodrick looked at you with lust blown eyes and swelling lips, a question on his face.
Bad idea, bad idea, bad idea.
You nodded, desperate. “Fuck, I need you.”
“’M all yours.”
You led his hands to your knees, and pulled them up your thighs under your dress. He got the idea, following your lead and hooking his fingers on your underwear to tug them off. His fingers found you already dripping for him.
He smirked at you, “This all for me? I’m touched.”
You rolled your eyes at him, but before you could retort, his thumb circled your clit deftly, and every thought you’d ever had vanished. Tipping forward onto his shoulder, you whimpered.
“I’ve got you,” he said, two fingers swirling at your entrance and curling into you. “Just try to stay quiet.”
“Mmph,” you mumbled into his skin.
Rodrick Heffley finger fucking you in a bathroom at a teenager’s birthday party had not been on your Bingo card, and neither were any of the obscenities he murmured in your ear.
“Do you have any idea how many times I’ve thought about this? Wondered how your pussy would feel around my fingers?” You squirmed and moaned into his shoulder.
The coil within you was wound tight. You stilled his fingers with a touch. “Tell me you keep condoms in your wallet.”
“Of course. Future rockstars gotta be prepared.”
He grunted, letting you fumble with his belt buckle while he reached around for his wallet. The condom he pulled out was in a magnum wrapper that was already open.
“Rodrick?”
“Yeah?”
“Did you buy a pack of magnum condoms so you could put the right size in the wrappers?”
“Uh…”
The fury housed in your chest had been evicted by his fingers, and now it was just you and Rodrick. You put your head against his chest and laughed. “Why?”
“So girls think my dick’s huge, duh.”
“Yeah, that might work if the wrapper wasn’t already open, and I wasn’t literally about to see your dick so we can fuck.”
“Didn’t think that far ahead.”
You took the condom from his hand and shoved his jeans down. “Never change, Heffley.”
The head of his hard, completely reasonably sized, dick was swollen and pink, and twitched in your hands. He hissed in your ear as you rolled the condom down the shaft of him. The hardness in your hands made your stomach flip. You wished you had the patience to blow him, but you needed him inside you, yesterday.
He pulled you to the edge of the counter and rubbed himself against your pussy, lubricating his dick in your wetness, before prodding your hole with the tip. You brushed his hair out of his face to watch how his eyes screwed shut.
“Fuck,” he groaned as he bottomed out inside you. “You okay?”
“Yeah, I’m good.”
“Cool.” He started thrusting slowly, getting used to the feel of you, watching the bounce of your tits in time with his movements, then stopped and swirled his hips still buried inside.
Clinging to his shoulders while his pelvis ground against your clit, you felt so full and moaned, too loud, “Ah, Rodrick, shit.”
His hand clamped against your mouth, forcing you to look at him. The snap of his hips resumed, quick and sloppy. He was getting close. His eyelids fluttered, and he pulled out of you roughly to finish with his hand. You smiled and fell back against the mirror, hearing the stifled sighs from his lips as he worked out his orgasm.
“Hang on, just a sec,” he said, tying off the condom.
You hummed as he opened your legs a little wider. “’S okay, that was nice.”
“You’re not done though.” You jolted when his lips circled your clit and sucked, and his fingers fucked into you. “That’s it. Hang on, I’ll get you there.”
A wave of heat shuddered through you again.
“Shit, Rodrick.”
“Fuck yeah, princess. I can feel it.”
“Oh my god.” You clapped your own hand across your mouth as you clenched around his fingers, coming hard, equal parts from his touch and his words. He held your hips still through the tremors, even as your legs clamped around his head. Then, the earthquake in your body subsided, and you sat up in shock. “Holy shit.”
He looked at you from in between your legs for a moment, eyes wide. Then he stood up and shoved his spent dick back in his jeans.
“So…”
You sighed. “Yes, we can go out. But, listen, you get one - exactly one opportunity, and I swear if you make me regret this I will find ways to torture you that will get me an honorable mention in the Geneva Convention.”
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