bf!rodrick who swore he'd never in a million years fall for one of the plastics. if you asked him who he fancied last year, he'd shrug and say, "dunno.. someone who'd wanna tour with the band. oh, and they can't wear pink. löded diper policy."
bf!rodrick who'd see you strutting down the hall, heels clicking as you transformed the linoleum floors into a runway. he'd sneer from his locker and chuck a spitball at you, muttering a snarky, "chicks dig bad boys!" to his bandmates.
bf!rodrick who asked you to be his girlfriend on prom night. he stood outside your house in formal clothes (in his definition, formal means anything that isn't pajamas) holding up a handmade sign that said, "you löded my diper when no one else would. will you let me be your böyfriend?" in sharpie. you scoffed at the sight, because did he seriously think he'd have the chance with you? get real.
bf!rodrick who thought he'd blown it big time seeing your initial reaction. he switched off the speakers, turned around and was ready to chuck the sign into the back of his van. you waltzed over to him, whispering a sarcastic, "as if" before grabbing his face and pulling him into a long kiss. "i'll be your girlfriend if you promise not to be a jerk."
bf!rodrick who treats you like an absolute goddess. he'll drive you around, blowing off his bandmates during practice saying he needs, 'girlfriend time'. he's actually started cleaning out his van regularly now to accommodate you.. and also because he's learnt a new concept called hi-jean or something. whatever, there's too many letters.
bf!rodrick who's grown used to the inevitable bling you've brought into his life. your stuff is cluttered around his room, juicy couture taking over his closet and adding a burst of glitter into his monochrome life. at his house parties, he'll have you attached at the hip the entire time because he likes showing you off ♡
bf!rodrick who will write corny love songs for you even if you make fun of him. he gets most of his songwriting inspiration from your relationship. his first album titled, "löve is an open dore" featured your voice in the background for an artistic touch, he said. if he really can't get out of practice, he'll let you sit on his lap and try his best not to bang your head with a drumstick.
bf!rodrick who lets you do his makeup before going on stage. he'll giggle as you pat down a generous amount of foundation on his cheeks, saying, "mom's gonna kill me.." as he passes you a stick of cream eyeliner. "she likes me, don't worry," you smile, placing a chaste kiss on his face and staining his cheek with bright red lip gloss.
bf!rodrick who's parents have become incredibly fond of you. they'll invite you to family dinners, on christmas, easter, you name it. greg considers you part of the family now. they'll often joke and say, "we don't know what he'd do without you!" but there's a hint of sincerity in their words. they've never seen rodrick so happy.. and clean.
bf!rodrick who still wonders how he pulled you. one of the plastics dating a lanky drummer boy certainly wasn't on anyones bingo card this year, but here's the 4-1-1.. you and rodrick make such an oddly compatible couple that everyone else can only dream of a relationship like yours.
a/n "i'm not gonna write for any more fandoms" also me:
everybody gave you two the kind of “really, him?” “how’d he get her?” sidelong glances when you’d started dating in high school. you’d basically swooned over him the first time you’d met at school—but for most of your classmates, the way he’d chase people down to convince them to attend his band’s shows rubbed them the wrong way. most people would describe Rodrick as ‘desperate’—but they weren’t fucking him, so they didn’t know how truly desperate he was, did they? either way, it didn’t matter. you wanted him, you had him hook, line and sinker. you weren’t exactly upset that people weren’t trying to snatch your boyfriend from you—you got his shaggy hair that was always too long, his hands calloused from the drum sticks, his nervous smile that he tried to play off as a smirk. you got him. you liked it that way.
you went off to college together, and Rodrick looked different by the end of freshman year. he was different. he laughed at the frat boys and grimaced at the music they played at parties. sure, he’d always been into different stuff—but now he was confident about it. he liked his music. he liked his friends. he liked his band. and, of course, he liked you (doesn’t count though. that’s not controversial. everyone knows you’re hot.)
you noticed this change in confidence before anyone else did. before it showed in his eyes and his clothes, it showed in the way he grabbed your face to kiss you, tangled his hands in your hair, grinned into your mouth. it showed in the way his fingers dug into his hips when he was fucking you, the way he ran his mouth. it had always been “this is so hot” “i can’t believe i’m fucking you” “you’re so hot” with him. now, he was boldly moaning “you like that, huh? i can feel it” he chuckled at the way you gushed around him when he was buried inside of you, he loved it, and now he wouldn’t shut the fuck up about it.
people did notice him now, though. his new favorite bomber jacket did wonders for him, and his arms had gotten a little bigger underneath it. he wasn’t ‘hunky’ now, by any means, but in college people were a lot more forgiving of the eyeliner-and-unsuccessful-band thing. it wasn’t lame and desperate here, it was cool and niche. you two weren’t hot girl and “he makes me laugh” loser like they called you in high school—now you were hot girl and cool drummer boyfriend.
but even now that people actually come to his band’s dimly-lit club and coffee shop gigs, and buy some tees from the merch table, and giggle a little, waving their fingers and going “heyyy Rodrick, you were great this weekend!” when they walk past him on campus, it doesn’t really matter. you’re the one he searches for when he’s playing, grinning proudly at you in the crowd. you’re the one who sits shotgun in the band van, leaning on the center console while he tells you how pretty you’ve looked all night. you’re the one who passes out on Rodrick’s shitty dorm mattress with him, tangled together and attempting to kiss but failing because you’re both so exhausted, and the one who wakes up the next morning and watches him yawn and ruffle his hand through his dark hair, moving sluggishly through the dorm without a shirt and with eyeliner from last night still smeared on his face.
you’re the one he’s fucking—his people-pleaser desperate-for-validation tendencies are still very intact when it comes to you. his eyes still practically pop out of his head every time he sees your tits, he still has to squeeze his eyes shut when you dirty talk because the sound of your voice drives him insane, and he still rolls his eyes hard when you tell him that no, he can’t eat you out right now, you have to go to class. the audacity. at the end of the day, he’s your Rodrick, no matter how many other people are suddenly paying attention to him
can you write about rodrick heffley x plastic reader, if you haven’t seen that already
and can i be 🐬 anon?
oh yes! <33 rodrick would definitely let plastic!reader walk all over him. (& yes u can be the dolphin anon)
( ty to @spikernojutsu on tt for inspo!)
sfw + suggestive !
rodrick heffley who “coincidentally” ends up where you are
cafeteria, quad, hallway—always there. he smirks when you catch him. “i’m just… around,” he says. “sure,” you reply, stiffness in your voice. he chuckles. “yeah, you’d notice if i wasn’t.”
rodrick heffley who couldn’t care less what your friends think
when they catch you staring at him, all three of them react instantly, regina practically choking on her drink. “rodrick heffley?” she scoffs. “come on, y/n, you can do way better.” you just blink, forcing a laugh. “me and that loser? pffftttt, hell would have to freeze over.” but your voice falters, and rodrick, leaning against a nearby wall—catches it. he smirks, eyes locked on you, already filing the moment away. something tells you he’s not gonna let you forget it.
rodrick heffley who somehow bagged you without either of you realizing it
he’s always teasing, smirking, showing up everywhere, making jokes that sting just enough to make your icy composure twitch. you brush him off, but catch yourself laughing once or twice when he isn’t looking. then one day, he leans against the lockers and grins. “so… we’re basically together, right?” you blink. “excuse me?” he shrugs, lazy smirk in place. “look at us! we tease, we text, we hang out… that’s a relationship in my book.”
and somehow, you realize… he’s right.
rodrick heffley who notices everything—especially your style
you’ve been adding a little black into your usual girly outfits, and he can’t help smirking every time you walk by. “wow, queen of the shadows,” he teases, leaning against the lockers. you roll your eyes. “don’t flatter yourself, heffley.” then there’s wednesdays. he shows up with just a hint of pink under his jacket, smirk in place. “i call it…paying homage to your vibe,” he says, like it’s casual. you catch it instantly, eyebrows raised. “pink? you?” he shrugs, grinning. “even i can appreciate aesthetics.” and he watches, clearly loving that you noticed, and secretly hoping you approve.
rodrick heffley who knows exactly when you’re stressed
when your shoulders tense up, he slides his fingers over your back, tapping little rhythms like a private drum set. it’s dumb, it’s ridiculous, but somehow it works, and you can’t help letting your guard drop for a moment.
rodrick heffley who would do just about anything for you — or atleast try..
you tried to force rodrick to sit through a full-blown powerpoint trying to “improve” löded diper’s image. until halfway through, he fell asleep on the table. you blink at him, unimpressed. “really? did you hear a word i just said?” he wakes up, squinting his eyes. “yep, change the logo or something”
“that was 12 slides ago.”
rodrick heffley who’s the only one that can actually handle your bratty attitude.
everyone else either backs down or gives up the second your tone sharpens, but him? he just grins. leans back in his van, arms crossed, eyes glinting with that infuriating amusement. “done yet, princess?” he’ll ask, voice low, teasing. you glare, toss your hair, roll your eyes like it’s routine. “don’t call me that.” he rolls his eyes. “would you prefer to be called brat instead?” you gave him a long, silent glare. “yeah that’s what i thought. get in the car princess.”
rodrick heffley who silences your scolding mid-rant,
kissing you hard as his hands grip your hips possessively, pulling your body flush against his. "mmph!" you gasp into his mouth, momentarily stunned by the sudden, forceful kiss. his fingers dig into your curves as he holds you tight, not letting you pull away.
rodrick heffley who parks outside your house blasting loud metal until you come outside.
it’s not even subtle—your whole neighborhood hears it. you open your window just to yell at him, and he leans against the van like, “you’re taking forever, princess.” you’re mortified, but he swears it’s “romantic.”
rodrick heffley who gets jealous way too easily but hides it behind jokes.
someone flirts with you for five seconds and he’s like, “oh, so you’re into guys who actually shower now?”—with that fake grin that doesn’t fool anyone. he’ll act like he’s unbothered all night, then pull you closer by your waist when no one’s looking.
rodrick heffley who always shows up at your window instead of texting first.
sometimes it’s 2 a.m., sometimes it’s right after a fight. he’ll tap the glass with his ring until you open it, muttering something about “forgetting his charger” like it’s not the fourth night this week. you always let him in anyway.
rodrick heffley who forgets you come from a rich family until he’s literally standing in your giant house.
he’s looking around like he just walked into a museum. “so this is what a dishwasher looks like, huh?” he jokes, trying to play it cool, but he grips your hand tighter when your mom walks in.
rodrick heffley who flirts by annoying you until you snap.
he’ll poke at your perfectly polished exterior just to see the cracks form. “relax, barbie,” he says with that lazy grin, leaning against your locker. you glare, unimpressed. “you know, you’d be way less annoying if you learned how to shut up.” he hums. “yeah, but then how would i get your attention?” you hate that you laugh, even if it’s under your breath.
rodrick heffley who keeps your hair tie on his wrist like it’s a bracelet.
he doesn’t even try to hide it, black elastic on his pale wrist, right next to that dumb metal bracelet he never takes off. “you look ridiculous,” you tell him once. “yeah?” he shrugs. “guess i’m yours then.” you roll your eyes, but later, when someone else notices and asks why he’s wearing it, he just smirks. “sentimental value.”
rodrick heffley who says “relax, it’s just a joke” but softens the second you actually get upset.
he’ll tease you until you roll your eyes, but the moment your expression slips, when you look genuinely done, he falters. “hey… i was just kidding,” he says, quieter now. you shrug, not meeting his eyes. then he sighs, runs a hand through his hair, and says, “you know i’d never actually mean that, right?” you don’t say it, but the apology in his tone always gets you.
rodrick heffley who leaves notes in your locker but signs them with something stupid like “your local drummer boy.”
the handwriting’s messy, smudged ink on ripped notebook paper. dumb little jokes, half-flirty insults, or lyrics that sound suspiciously like they’re about you. you pretend to find them annoying, but they end up tucked neatly in your binder. one day, he catches you rereading one, and just smirks. “guess i’ve still got it.”
rodrick heffley who drives with one hand on the wheel and the other lazily resting on your thigh.
he acts like it’s nothing, like his pulse isn’t racing every time you shift or breathe. music blaring, wind whipping through the cracked window, and he’s still glancing over every few seconds. “eyes on the road,” you mutter. he grins. “what, you worried i’ll crash or that i’ll stop touching you?” you roll your eyes, but your smirk gives you away.
rodrick heffley who finds out the “plastic princess” reputation isn’t just a rumor.
he’s leaning against your locker after school when he spots you across the hall—perfect face, perfect hair, perfect fury. some chick had been talking behind your back, loud enough for you to hear. “if you’re gonna run your mouth,” you say sweetly, “at least make sure you’re not wearing knockoff prada while you do it.” the girl freezes, stammering “w-wait i— didn’t mean to off—“ you smile at her softly “save it, you’ve dug your grave, now lay.” rodrick just watches, jaw slack, then starts laughing. “you’re insane,” he says when your in his proximity. you glance up, unbothered. “and you’re still staring.” he grins, pushing off the locker. “yeah,” he admits, voice low. “guess i’ve got a thing for terrifying girls.”
rodrick heffley who corners you in the parking lot just to argue
he finds you, alone. finally. phone in one hand, iced coffee in the other. “you keep staring, barbie. i’m gonna start charging.” you lower your sunglasses slowly. “you wish.” he grins, reckless. “what? you’re not used to someone calling you out?” you tilt your head, smirk softening. “people don’t call me out. they apologize.” he laughs, low and amused.
“pathetic.”
“maybe,” you say, stepping closer, heels clicking. “but it works.” his gaze lingers, intense and calculating, yet full of fascination. “see,” he mutters, voice low, “you act like you’re running a kingdom, but you don’t even know what it’s like outside your walls.”
“then show me,” you challenge.
he blinks once, smirks, and backs away. “careful what you ask for, barbie.” the air is electric, the school parking lot quiet, the moment all yours. he’s obsessed, watching, teasing, pushing, and you know it.
rodrick heffley whose friends and your friends absolutely cannot stand each other.
it starts at lunch—his band crowd sitting one table over, your plastics giving them side-eyes sharp enough to cut glass. regina’s the first to speak. “do they even own shampoo?” she mutters. ben snorts, muttering back, “do you even eat?” you pinch the bridge of your nose, already feeling a migraine. rodrick just grins, totally unbothered, leaning closer to you. “this is kinda hot,” he says under his breath.
“babe, they’re gonna kill each other,” you hiss.
“yeah,” he smirks, “but they’re bonding.”
it escalates when karen asks, “sooo… do you guys play actual music, or just noise?” bill fires back, “depends—do you talk actual words, or just air?” rodrick’s trying not to laugh, and regina’s glaring daggers across the table. gretchen’s whispering, “this is, like, social suicide,” you sigh. “this is your fault.”
“mine?”
he says, pretending to be offended. “you’re the one who made me hot enough to start a turf war.” you roll your eyes, but you’re smiling—because somehow, in all the chaos, you’re the only two who actually get along.
rodrick heffley who swears he doesn’t care that much, but somehow always ends up next to you, at lunch, in the car, on the couch, half-asleep with his head on your shoulder.
he teases, argues, pushes your buttons for sport, but when you get quiet, he always notices first. he’s the one who nudges your leg, mumbles “hey, talk to me,” like it’s not a big deal. and maybe it isn’t—until he says your name like it means something. until you realize he never stopped showing up, even when he said he wouldn’t.
"He said five more minutes... he always says five more minutes."
☆ Listening to "R u mine" by Arctic Monkeys while writing this. ☆
Pairing: Rodrick Heffley x fem reader (18+).
Warnings: none.
Synopsis: you want to sleep but Rodrick keeps keeping you awake.
Author's note: oh Rodrick, how I love you... I've been rewatching the movies these days hahah. I hope you like it!
The reader is of legal age (I will never write for underage readers, only 18 and up).
Minors must not interact (MDNI).
If you want to make any requests, feel free to do so!
English is not my native language so I ask you to have a little tolerance :)
⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆
Rodrick's room is a mess, but you're used to it. Low lights, wrinkled sheets, a Löded Diper t-shirt thrown on the nightstand, and his half-broken amplifier humming in the background.
You're there, lying on his bed with your head buried in his pillow, while he pounds away on the drums as if he was playing at the height of a world tour and not in his room, late at night.
"Rodrick, I swear to God, if you don't stop... I'll smother you with the pillow." He doesn't respond, or rather: he laughs, but without stopping. He's being a bastard on purpose, and you know it.
"Come on," he says between shots, without even turning around. "Just five more minutes." "You said 'five more minutes' twenty minutes ago, I'm about to die." "Die in style, then, with a chilling soundtrack."
You huff and turn to the side, tired, exhausted, your temples pounding. You're here to spend the night with him, not to be tortured by his inner drummer at indecent hours.
After a few more seconds - which seem like an eternity - he finally stops. A final, sharp thump, then silence. You hear him huff and drop his drumsticks somewhere. The stool creaks as he rises, and then the mattress dips behind you.
"Hey," he says, his voice hoarse and thick. You feel him slowly approaching, his arm brushing against yours. "Are you offended?" "No," you reply dryly. "I'm just praying you get an infection." "Hot."
You laugh slightly, even though you're tired. Rodrick leans closer, and his breath touches your neck. You feel his warm hand run slowly over your waist. There's something sweet in that gesture, even if he would never admit it.
"You should have told me you were so fucked up," he whispers. "I'd let you sleep first." "Bullshit, you like torturing me." "Just a little." You roll onto your back, meeting Rodrick's gaze in the dim glow of his desk lamp.
His fingers trace lazy circles on your stomach through the thin fabric of your sleep shirt, his touch gentle despite the rough skin from years of drumming. "Fuck, I'm tired," you mutter, closing your eyes for a second too long.
Rodrick's hand slides up to rest against your cheek, thumb brushing your temple. "Then stop talking," he says, but there's no bite to it. You groan in response, but don't protest as Rodrick's fingers move from your temple to your hairline, threading gently through the strands.
His touch is light and deliberate, as if he's trying to soothe you... or maybe just appreciating how he can do this to you - knock you out with exhaustion, then keep you awake.
"You're lucky I don't smother you," you murmur, opening your eyes to slits. His face is close now, lips curled into that infuriating half-smirk that means he's amused by you. His dark eyes shine in the dim light, reflecting the glow of his overloaded desk lamp.
"Lucky?" "Yeah, lucky. You're lucky I care enough about you to stay here while you torture me." You stretch lazily under his touch, the exhaustion still weighing on you but somehow eased by his presence.
His fingers keep working through your hair, slow and methodical, as if he's memorizing the way it feels. The steady pressure helps you relax, your muscles loosening one by one.
"You're lucky I don't kick you out," he counters, but there's no real threat in it. His thumb traces the curve of your ear before moving back to your temple. "If you were anyone else, I'd let you leave."
"Oh, sure," you scoff, but don't move away from his hand. Rodrick hums in response, his fingers still moving through your hair with practiced ease. His touch is warm, grounding, and you let your eyes drift closed again, focusing only on the way his hand feels against your scalp.
The mattress dips slightly as he shifts his weight, bringing himself closer, and you sense his breath against your cheek before his lips graze the shell of your ear. "You're gonna fall asleep on me?" he murmurs, voice rough and low.
You make a noncommittal sound, half groan, half sigh. His mouth brushes the side of your neck next and your breathing falters, but you don't open your eyes. Not yet. His mouth stays there, warm and firm, his lips pressing just enough to send a slow tingle down your spine.
You're too tired to respond properly, but your body betrays you anyway - your fingers curl slightly against his wrist where it rests near your shoulder. "Don't," he whispers, barely audible.
Your eyelids flutter open at that. Rodrick's face is inches from yours now, dark and unreadable in the low light. His eyes search yours for a second too long, something unspoken passing between you.
His hand moves from your hair to cradle the side of your neck, thumb brushing over the pulse point beneath your jaw. His lips are still close enough that you can feel his exhale ghost over your skin, warm and steady.
He watches you intently, waiting for something - permission, a reaction, a sign you're still awake enough to care. "Rodrick," you murmur, his name slipping out softer than you intended. His thumb pauses against your jaw, pressing lightly before resuming its slow motion.
"You're really gonna sleep now?" His voice is rough, lower than before, carrying something you don't quite recognize. There's something almost... tender in it, despite the teasing edge. You should be tired. You are tired.
Likes, comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated!
From the same series:
⤷ 𝘍𝘪𝘷𝘦 𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘶𝘵𝘦𝘴 - 𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘵 𝘐𝘐 (Warnings: none. Synopsis: you prod each other until you fall asleep.)
RODRICK HEFFLEY’s hands slid over your waist as he kissed you, sloppy and unpracticed but very enthusiastic, like he couldn’t decide if he wanted to tease you or keep kissing you until his lungs gave out. you let him have his way, fingers threading through his messy hair, tugging lightly as he groaned against your mouth. rodrick fumbled with the buttons of your flannel, a satisfied noise escaping him when he finally managed to get it open.
“mhm..” he pushed the shirt off your shoulders, but then his eyes drifted down to your chest—and he froze. you bit your lip to stifle the laugh that bubbled up, your hands sliding down to rest on his shoulders as his brow furrowed, staring at the sharpie scrawl across your chest: “i dig bad boys.”
you couldn’t help it—you giggled, and the sound immediately made him squint suspiciously. “what?” you shrugged, “greg told me about your big brother advice.”
rodrick’s expression shifted through about three emotions at once—embarrassment, disbelief, and finally indignation. “i—he—that little snitch wasn’t supposed to tell you that!”
“yup,” you replied, leaning back slightly, just enough to smirk up at him. “apparently, ‘chicks dig bad boys’ was your expert advice. and now here i am, digging you.” he groaned, letting his head drop against your shoulder.
“oh, c’mon rod,” you teased, brushing a hand through his hair. “it’s cute. you thought that would work on me?”
he looked up at you, face still flushed. “well, it did, didn’t it?” he shot back defensively, though the way his voice cracked slightly ruined any attempt at sounding smug. “sure it did,” you chuckled, pressing a kiss to the corner of his mouth. “bad boy.” “stop calling me that,” he whined, but his hands slid back to your waist anyway, lips pressing to yours with a little more fervor—like he needed to prove something. still, when he broke away, his voice dropped to a low mutter. “i’m seriously kicking greg’s ass.”
Summary: You and Rodrick have been best friends since childhood. You've harboured this crush for years, but with a bit of alcohol-induced chatterings, you may start to become more than friends...
Warnings: 18+, smut, fluff, friends to lovers, lowkey black cat!reader, drinking, throwing-up, sub!rodrick, switch!reader, praise kink, oral, fingering, unprotected sex, cutie couple.
divider by: @strangergraphics-archive
an: been busy with school, please enjoy this :)
It’s unclear when you and Rodrick became attached at the hip. Perhaps it was when you stood up for him in the third grade as you shoved Tommy H down the slide after he called Rodrick a loser. Or maybe it was when he found you hiding in the janitor’s closet during the seventh-grade dance, sobbing your eyes out, and he comforted you with movies and popcorn.
Mrs. Heffley wished Rodrick would finally make a move on you—you were someone who could control Rodrick. You were also incredibly sweet and considerate, also making sure to compliment her cooking when you stayed for dinner. So, why hadn’t Rodrick asked you out yet? Well, the one problem with that was that he was a coward. You were so pretty it made his head spin, and then the words just came out wrong.
When you walked into his room, you saw a frustrated Rodrick and an eyeliner pencil. You couldn’t help but grin, “Had a fight with your pencil?”
He scowled at you as he turned on his side, “Shut up, it’s hard to do, poked myself.”
You giggled as you crawled over to him, “Could’ve asked me, you know, your friend who wears eyeliner.”
He pouted before he looked up at you, his eyes widened, “Oh…can you do it?”
“Course I can, take a seat.”
You bit your lip as you focused on his eyeliner. He was a less cooperative model than you hoped, moving every second. You pulled back and chastised him, “Quit moving.”
You grabbed his jaw as you applied the pencil, delicately drawing against his eyelid.
He pouted as he looked up at you, “Sorry, miss bossy.”
“And you’re the dumbass who poked his eye.”
He huffed as he crossed his arms, “That was an accident."
You pouted your lip at Rodrick. “Does your eye hurt?” You stroked his cheek.
His eyes widened as he shook his head. “Did earlier…it’s okay now”
You smiled, smudging out the wings of the eyeliner.
“You know, you’re pretty punk rock at this. How’d you get so good?” He asked.
You looked at Rodrick and laughed. Turning to his mirror and fanning out your own liner. Before returning to him with a smile, “Practice.”
“Shut up, that doesn’t help,” He said, slightly shoving you.
You chuckled, “It’s not natural talent that’s for sure.”
You hummed a catchy Gaga song as you drew on his other eye. Your eyes were fixed on your creation. He had to resist the urge to peek; he loved seeing you so happy.
“So, we’re going to Heather’s party tonight?” You asked, holding onto his chin.
“Yeah, some members of the band were invited, scored us an invite.”
You finished his eyeliner and turned his head to the mirror. “How do you like it?”
He smiled as he leaned in. He couldn't believe how punk you made him look—he would've let you do whatever you wanted just so he could feel your soft touch again. “It looks sick, thanks, babe.”
”No worries, love.” You puckered up your lips and applied a dark red lipstick. Rodrick’s eyes widened; he tried not to drool. His hand delicately reached into your styled hair as you rolled your eyes, “Don’t mess it up yet. I have all night.”
He smiled, gently twirling your hair, “It’s so bouncy.”
You resisted a grin as you stood up. In front of the mirror, you adjusted the lacy black dress and reached for your docs.
“Are we ready to go?”
His eyes followed before he quickly stood up, trying to mentally will down his hard-on.
You and Rodrick went down the stairs, your eyes drifting to Rowley and Greg. You smiled with a big wave, “I’ll see you later…I want to play Mario Party.”
Greg began to talk—he hated Rodrick, but he loved playing Nintendo with you. But Rodrick tugged your arm as he led you out the front door.
“Goodbye!” Rowley waved.
Greg would normally tattle about Rodrick’s absences, but he never wanted to get you into trouble, so he kept your sneaking out to the party with his brother a secret. Rodrick helped you inside his bandmate’s car as you roared onto the party.
The house was loud, lights beaming. It was too intense, too quickly. You frowned before Rodrick reached for your hand. Your eyes soften.
“Why don’t we get some drinks, yeah?”
You followed him, letting him be the gentleman, “Yeah, okay.”
The chaos of the party seemed to reverberate in every move, but you felt okay. You squeezed Rodrick’s hand, feeling his cool rings against your warm hand.
Rodrick only stopped when he saw a punch bowl, grabbing two red Solo cups, “Here’s to spiked Kool-Aid.”
“Cheers to that.” You chugged the punch with a grin, your head turning to the Britney song as your hands reach for his, “Come on.”
He chuckled as he let you dance with him. His eyes were watching the way you bounced excitedly—hopefully you didn’t see his blush.
Now you didn’t remember when you began to lose sight of Rodrick; it might’ve been after the second tequila shot. Stupid Heather Hills for luring you in with booze. She might’ve been an airhead, but she was a great friend; it always seemed strange that the two of you were friends.
Rodrick remembered the first moment he lost sight of you. Your hand fell from his grasp when he heard Heather’s chattering voice. It wasn’t like he hated Heather—he just thought it would be the two of you. He shook his head; he was acting jealous, and embarrassingly so. He wouldn’t worry about you for a bit, his eyes drifting to his bandmate.
When you stumbled into his arms an hour later, he started to worry.
“Oh, are you okay?”
You cracked a smile, “Um….yeah.”
He watched you lean into his hold before your arms slipped, and he wrapped his arms around your waist, “Wow.”
Your head turned up at him as you smiled widely. “You’re so pretty.”
Rodrick’s heart began to race—it was always jokes with the two of you. You sounded so loving, causing him to blush, “Jesus, come on, I’m taking you home.”
You made it to the front lawn when your feet stopped.
“Can I stay with you?”
He squeezed his arms around you, “Of course you can stay. I could never leave you passed out on the grass.”
“You’re funny.” You laughed before groaning, “I don’t feel so good.”
His eyes peeped—oh shit—as he frowned, “Hey, don’t throw up on me–”
You nodded as you turned away from your friend, shuffling into the bushes. You leaned your head forward, avoiding your shoes. He watched as you began to open your mouth, your hair puffy. He scurried behind you, grabbing your hair, “Careful, you look like a little raccoon.”
You were throwing up, but you still had the sass to throw up the finger at Rodrick.
You heard his soft chuckles as he tied up your hair. He always kept a hair tie on his wrist for you, usually because it was yours and you didn’t want it to clash with your bracelets again.
When you turned onto the familiar street, Rodrick squeezed your hand, “Did you intend to get wasted tonight?”
You frowned, eyes looking down to the sidewalk, “Just didn’t want to think for a night.”
“That’s a bit concerning.”
You looked up at him, his gaze worried. “It’s fine. Just had a tough week.”
He sighed as he stroked your palm—of course, he knew about your week, you had told him all about it. He remembered everything you liked to tell him; he was happy to let you listen.
He reached for the lock, his hand fumbling behind him. You were the one who made sure Rodrick remembered the keys. You reached into his back left pocket and handed it to him, “Here you go, prince. Are your parents home yet?”
He turned the lock, softly pushing open the door, “Car’s not in the driveway.”
You hummed, softly tiptoeing up the stairs. You never wanted to wake up Greg or Rowley; poor boys needed their sleep.
When you made it to Rodrick’s room, you toppled onto the bed. Your legs stretched out. Rodrick already made his way to your docs, untying them and taking them off of you. When you were left in your socks, he reached for your fuzzy socks. You smiled as you put them on. You reached behind yourself, beginning to slide the zipper down. You groaned before you looked up at him.
“Need some help?” He chuckled.
You pouted your lip and nodded, holding your arms up. He reached for your arms, tugging off your dress, eyes flickering away from you as soon as it was off. Oh, how he wished he could kiss you, hug you tightly. He fiddled with his thumbs as you rustled up some clothes from his dresser.
You huffed, head lying against the pillow, when he turned back around. He smiled at your exhaustion, his hand reaching for yours, “Don’t go to bed yet. Let me get you an aspirin.”
“That’s tomorrow me’s problem.”
He shook his head, “I’ll hear you whining all morning when you wake up hungover.”
“Weren’t you whining about your eye makeup?”
He blushed, “Whining? I was not–”
“Tomorrow, I won’t be complaining.” You buried yourself in the blankets as Rodrick grabbed your makeup wipes, removing your liner. He tucked himself beside in the bed, your head turning to him, “You didn’t have to, Rodrick.”
He smiled back, reaching for your hand. “I don’t mind.”
You were expecting the pounding in your head when you woke up. What you weren’t expecting was to be lying against Rodrick, head curled on his chest. It was both the nausea and embarrassment that had you scrambling out of bed. Rodrick’s ears fluttered up as your feet pattered across the floor. He barely blinked before he heard your retching, following quick behind you.
“Jesus, are you okay?”
You groaned from the bowl, “I feel awful.”
He soothingly ran his hand along your back.
You lay your face on the cool tiles as you groaned in frustration. Your eyes closed, “I look awful and tired.”
He chuckled, “You don’t. You just look like a little raccoon. I’m sorry you don’t feel good.”
You squeezed his wrist before you groaned, “Oh god…”
His hand went straight into your hair as he retied it, resting his hand against yours.
Once you began to relax, he sat down next to you. “You usually get stoned with me when you’re stressed, but when you drink…you must be really stressed.”
You lay your head back against the wall, “It’s embarrassing.”
He shook his head, “I tell you embarrassing things all the time.” He took a breath, “I mean, I would never say anything to anyone.”
You knew that, he was your best friend. You sighed, “I just kept drinking because I’m falling in love with you.”
His eyes widened—this was his biggest dream come true. But he couldn’t understand—you were amazing, and he was just Rodrick.
“You’re falling in love with me?”
You rolled your eyes, “Yes, don’t make me say it again.”
He shook his head, “But I wanna hear it again.”
You watched his eyes drift down to your lips before he flushed.
“Wait. I’ve been puking all morning, I’m just going to brush my teeth first.” You stood up slowly, grabbing your spare toothbrush. Rodrick smiled, reaching for his toothbrush. He stood behind you, reaching for your waist.
You darted straight back to bed, tucking yourself under the covers, “So, can I call you my boyfriend now?”
“Please do.”
Your hand weaselled around the blanket, a smile shone bright at him, “I wanna kiss you now…”
Grasping his shirt, Rodrick shuddered, “Please.”
You leaned in, lips against lips. If only you were still wearing your dark red lipstick—marking up Rodrick’s pretty neck was one of your dreams.
He softly groaned, his lips pushing back with a soft intensity. Your hands skillfully slide under his t-shirt. He smiled before his head turned, “Shit, door…”
He scurried to the lock on his door—he really didn’t want his mom walking in. He lifted you into his lap, bringing your hands to his abdomen. “Okay, sorry–”
Your hands reached into his hair as you kissed along his throat. He shuddered, hands around your thighs, “Oh god…”.
You kissed farther down before you suckled along his pulse point, a soft mark around your kiss, “Fuck.”
“Got to be quiet for me, sweet boy.” You teased, wrapping your fingers around his scalp before pulling gently.
“Shut up,” Rodrick groaned. His face went red.
You stroked his hair, eyes piercing, “You like being good for me?”
He flushed even redder, unable to articulate a thought, “Uh-huh.”
“That wasn’t so hard, was it? My good boy,”
His shirt came off as you kissed down his chest, hands crawling to his lap. He hissed when your hand rested against his hard lap.
He gulped, his heart racing as he watched your pretty hands.
“Can I?”
He nodded frantically, your hands dipping under his boxers to tug him out. You gently pump him, watching the flesh tighten, green veins bulging.
“Do you like that?”
He nodded, eyes fluttering shut.
You moved your hand a bit faster, leaning down as saliva dripped from your glossed lips.
His forehead leaned against your shoulder as he shuddered out a moan, “Feels so good.”
You didn’t let up. “That’s it, baby, you got it.”
His breathing grew heavier as he bit his lip. “Oh, please…”
Closer and closer, you smiled, “Can you be a good boy and come?”
His body shook as he nodded, “Uh-huh.” He rocked his hips up as he came, his seed spilling all over your face. He looked at the state he left you in as he panicked, “Shit, I’m so sorry–”
You moaned as you dragged your finger across your face and sucked.
“Stop,” he begged.
“Why? You taste so good.” You made a show of licking your fingers.
“You’re gonna kill me.”
You leaned forward with a giggle, “I intend to.”
You tugged off the rest of your clothes as you lay down on the bed. Rodrick quickly made work of kissing down your neck, just as you had done to him. You squeezed your eyes shut as you moaned, “Oh, Rodrick.”
He sucked down to your tits. His tongue around your nipples. His hand wandered down as your pussy cried. He groaned, lightly teasing your folds. His fingers gently teased up to your clit as you gasped, “Rodrick.”
His kisses moved farther as he teased your inner thighs. You tried to relax, but his teasing touches weren’t enough. “Please, I need you.”
“Only because you begged.”
You rolled your eyes before he brushed his nose against your clit, tongue into your folds. You threw your head back in a broken moan. “Oh my…”
He sucked around your clit as your hole leaked. It wasn’t enough.
“God, Rodrick. Your hands.” You almost drooled at his veiny hand.
He groaned at your praise, looking down at his hands, “What should these hands do?”
You glared at him as he kissed your cheek with a frown, “I’m sorry.”
He sucked his two fingers, sliding them inside you. You whimpered, hands curling against his wrist, “Oh god.”
He moved back to your clit as he thrusted, trying to give you something good.
And what he was doing was good, as evidenced by your hands tightening around his hair.
He felt your pussy squeeze around his finger as he grinned, “Close?”
You shook your head and pouted, “I want you inside me.”
“You do?” He gulped, his cock gently jumping.
You whimpered, “So badly.”
He nodded before laying you down, his hands sweeping through your folds. Your wetness slicked up his cock as he pushed in. It wasn’t enough, just an inch through. He had to pull back. “I’m sorry…it’s just…”
You reached for his cheek, “It’s okay, Rodrick, take your time.”
He shook his head as he pumped his cock. He took a deep breath as he pressed his lips against yours—you clenched, feeling the mushroom tip.
You both shivered as he took a moment to pause, “Feels good?”
You choke out a moan, “Oh my god, so good.”
He nodded as he moved faster, his kisses against your cheek.
Neither of you could tease the other one—you felt so connected and euphoric
Rodrick whimpered, arms tightly around you, as you whined.
Pleasure sparked inside you with every movement. You stared into Rodrick’s eyes as he kissed you. His hips rocketing faster into you, slick, making it easy.
You felt your pleasure peak as you whimpered, “I’m so close.”
He nodded, fingers darting down to your clit, “Please, oh god, faster.”
In a moment, there was a burst of white hot pleasure as you clenched around him. He cried out as his cock tightened and burst, cum filling up your pussy. You couldn’t help but nuzzle against him, arms tightly wrapped around him. He inhaled your scent before running his finger through your hair. His cock just soft inside of you, his eyes filled with pure love. You kiss him longingly, “I feel good.”
“I’ve never come that hard. You’re so good.” He gulped.
You kissed his cheek, quickly darting into the bathroom. You sat naked on the toilet, your eyes darting as you reached for a pair of his boxers, before climbing back into bed.
“Those boxers look cute on you.”
You bit your lip. “Yeah, sure you don’t just like my ass in them?” You stood back up and turned around.
He groaned, “I can’t help it, I like your ass in everything.”
You giggled as you curled back in his arms, “Cuddle time?”
He held you against his chest, “I’m falling in love with you, too.”
DESCRIPTION you get mad after seeing all the girls flirting with rodrick after a show.
CONTENT jealousy ꣑ mention of arguing ꣑ p in v ꣑ some dirty talk ꣑ spanking ꣑ creampie ꣑ aftercare mentioned.
THOUGHTS another addition posted from my kinktober event that i didn't get to finish. i definitely need to write more for roddy (esp fluff), probably my fave to write at the moment.
𝒾. mlist 𝒾𝒾. previous fic 𝒾𝒾𝒾. prompts 𝒾𝓋. based on this ask
SOFT MOANS LEAVES YOUR TREMBLING LIPS AS Rodrick’s hips meets the swell of your ass, with his hand holding your right arm as he fucks you into the mattress beneath. It’s a perfect view, you have the perfect arch while your ass is on display as he drills in and out of your sopping cunt. Ever so often landing a hard smack on your ass, loving how much your pussy tightens around his cock in reaction.
A flood of pressure flows through your body as his thrusts become stronger. Making you forget about the argument you had with him earlier. Whenever you and him have an argument, it always ends with the two of you going at it like bunny rabbits.
Maybe it's the adrenaline of the argument that gets you turned on to the point, you want to undress him, maybe it’s whenever he raises his voice, asserting his dominance that gets you to clench your thighs together, causing friction to your aching core.
You didn’t know what it was, but who were you to stop it?
You had just come from one of Rodrick’s gigs, you always sat in the front row so you could have a good view of your handsome man on the stage.
The show was good, you had fun until you walked backstage, catching a glimpse of some girls flirting with Rodrick, one even daring to have your hand on his arm, while he signed one of the other girls' breasts. You were used to girls flirting with Rodrick even when you were standing right next to him.
It’s not like Rodrick would entertain any of these girls' actions and actually cheat on you but it’s the principle of not wanting to see the one you love with other girls especially if one has her hand touching him.
Rodrick could tell something was wrong with you as you were silent the whole car ride home, not entertaining any of the conversations he brought up. You knew how much he was excited about the show as you were excited for him too, big gigs like that could get him places but the mere images of those girls just keep coming to the front of your mind. Those girls weren't the only one you were mad at, you were mad at him.
You get that his fans mean a lot to him but he shouldn’t have been allowing them to get that close to him. The more you think about it, the more anger builds up inside of you. Once walking into the door of your shared apartment, Rodrick on your tail asking you what’s wrong and just like that, you broke and let out all the anger you’re holding in.
That’s how you got in this position, regretting some of the words you said but enjoying the pleasure he was continuously giving to you. “Ahhh, Roddy… I’m going to cum…”
“Yeah that’s right, come all over my cock,” he demands, sending another strike to your ass. “You should know that you’re the only one I want. You know this cock belongs to you and no one can take it from you.” His reassurance is the key for the coil in your stomach to snap as your body spasms around him, your cum painting on his lower torso as some drips down your legs.
“There you go,” he coos as he continues to rut in and out of you until he flushes against your ass, emptying his load deep inside of you, his groans filling your ears as your body fully gives out slumping to the bed and he lets out a low chuckle.
“Rest baby while I clean you up.”
COMMENTS (if you want to be tagged in doawk fics, click here) @cherriespopsicle, @rain-likes-purple, @lover-of-books-and-tea, @coconut-pearl.
She was the popular cool girl and he was the rockstar wannabe, who would've thought this is what they'd be up to behind closed doors.
MINORS DNI/ AGELESS BLOGS DNI/ ANTI DC DNI/ 18+
Warnings: neck kisses, oral, dry humping, hickies, teasing, early ejaculation, grinding, cursing, slight face fucking, slight choking, whimpering
1.9K words
“Well would you look at that, precum from me doing nothing yet you said you hate me”? The girl chuckled, eyelashes fluttering while never taking her eyes off him, all while he scowled. “You think you’re funny?”, “Not really, but I do think I know a guy begging for my touch when I see one”
Regina and Rodrick were never the closest, she was the popular number 1 girl, and he was the weirdo that drove a van and played in a band no one cared to see play. Yet here they were, in her room, down to their intimates while the rest of the girls had left to grab food, who would’ve thought.
“You can just give in you know”, “I bet that's what you’d want” he squirmed, her eyebrows rising in shock as a smirk emerged on her face, “Cheeky one aren’t you, I like that, but let’s see how long it lasts shall we?”.
Before he could even get a word in she was already on top of him, her knee between his legs, pressing ever so softly on his slowly growing cock resulting in a small moan from him.
“Oh, so you like that?” Regina teased, shifting her weight onto that knee, grinding against it to help soothe the ache, his eyes avoiding hers. “Oh c’mon, no need to be so shy” she cooed, his face heating up as hers moved closer.
“Who said I’m shy?” he stuttered, his cheeks heating up slightly, “hmm I don’t know, the fact that you can’t even look me in the eye says enough don’t you think ‘Hot Rodrick’?”. Regina always had that effect on him, he always tried to brush it off and keep up his wannabe rocker aesthetic, yet it always came back, she made him overly nervous but he always found himself gravitating to her, even if everyone warned him about her.
Before he could even think of a rebuttal, Regina shifted back to sit on her knees, her one of a kind figure on display as his eyes wandered her body. All she had on was a pretty pink matching set but fuck she looked so good, almost effortlessly. “Like what you see?”, “Oh, shut up” he sighed sarcastically, rolling his eyes as she smoothed back her blonde hair before placing herself between your thighs, her knee still wet from him underwear.
“Regina I~” “ Cmon loser, never gotten head from a girl before?” she scoffed, trailing sweet kisses along bare chest, nibbling down on his oddly soft skin as it melted at her touch. She knew it was his first time, we all know he gets no action, that may or may not have been the reason why the girls were suddenly ‘so hungry’ and ‘needed to go get everyone food’.
He felt as her kisses inched closer and closer to the source of the burning heat between his legs, his heartbeat fastening with every passing second before he felt her fingers tug at the fabric covering him. “Let's take these off and see what we’re working with” she grinned, hands running down his torso to the band of his boxers, his eyes half lidded with desire as she rolled her tongue against her top teeth, a coy grin plastered on your face.
Sliding the fabric down under his hips she took his length in her hand, the sheer size of it took her by surprise, "So this is what you've been hiding, I think I can handle it" she bit her lip while perking up.
"What do you mean by tha~ oh fuck", Rodrick hissed through his teeth as she timidly rubbed his ever growing member. With each stroke she could hear his needy moans get louder, his eyes showing a pure yearning for more."Look at you, is this the cocky and overconfident rockstar that tries to humble me? 2 minutes in and you're already this turnt on", she teased as he averted his eyes from her.
"Look at me pretty boy", her stern tone followed by her meticulously moulding her fingers around his member massaging it in her hand, she could hear Rodrick curse through his moans. He turnt to look at her, eyebrows tilted upwards in bliss.
She wasn’t sure how much more he could take as she didn't know his cues yet, that and the girls could come back any minute she she would never be caught DEAD sleeping with this man, however she did know she weren't going to let it end here, having a cocky man in submission was too perfect to give up this fast.
She slowly stopped her hand movements, "w~why'd you stop?" Rodrick whined trying to conduct himself, he wasn't used to being this vulnerable but with her, truly the girl of his dreams, he didn't mind but he definitely wasn't expecting all this after being told to ‘come over, hide in the closet and shut up until told otherwise’.
"Okay Rodrick, would you rather I finish you off with my hand, or mouth? Rockstars choice.", her cheeky tone confusing him as to if that was a real question. Before he had a chance to formulate a response she placed her fingertips on the cusp on his cock, as she pressed them onto it she stuck out her tongue to let a drop of saliva hit his tip, her grip tightening as his body squirmed.
While kneading the tip in her fingertips she asked again, "You gotta pick one Rodrick I haven’t got all day here, if not I guess we can leave it here and you can get back in your shitty fan and driv~", "mouth". "What was that? I couldn't hear you?", she pouted jokingly as if to mock him. She had full control and she were going to get the most out of it.
"P~Please, please finish me off with your mouth Regina", Rodricks head rolling back in pure sexual frustration, "I'm all yours". Without another word she skimmed her tongue across his shaft before taking it in her mouth, her warm breath adding to the burning in his stomach.
She bobbed her head up and down taking him all in, her saliva mixing with his precum engulfing his cock in a wet heat. "Fuuuck baby, don't stop", his hand slid to her cheek, caressing it before bringing it to the back of her head, she felt a slight pressure.
Was he really trying to fuck her face? She wasn't expecting him to get a burst of confidence, especially with someone way out of his league, or was his body just moving on its own? Either way it was turning her on little by little. She placed her free hand on his balls, palming them as he began to grind his hips forwards, the crown of his cock hitting the back of her throat each stroke.
Rodrick's moans became sloppy and incoherent as her tongue slid across the slit in his piece before taking it all back in, humming to allow it to slip back down her throat, the vibrations adding to the overwhelming closeness he was feeling.
She could feel him twitching slightly in her mouth, "oh my g~god i'm so close baby", his whining getting louder as she gave his balls in her palm some more attention. "Just keep going baby" he mewled out in desperation.
Before she could have another thought she felt him shudder, as if on cue he let go, she could feel it cascade down her throat coating it completely, his breath hitching as she continued to deepthroat him, swallowing whatever remained in her mouth. "W~What are you d~oing I can't take much mo~", she could hear him whimpering as the overstim started to consume him, the delirium swirling inside him as the suction intensified.
"F~Fuuuck Angel", he was drowning in pain and pleasure, she started to slow down using her tongue to take in the elixir of cum and saliva encasing his cock cleaning him up. She could almost feel his member throbbing as she pulled back. She gazed at him alluringly as he covered his deep red cheeks with his forearm, "welllll, did I do good Mr Heffley?".
Another cheeky smirk emerging on her lips as she slid her hand on last time up his length to take off anything remaining, licking it clean while remaining eye contact with him, he breathlessly mumbled "you~you did more than good I can tell you that much" whilst she placed him back in his boxers carefully.
Rodrick grabbed her jaw with his hand pulling her into a quick heated kiss as she went to lay by his side, the taste of him and her saliva slightly re-turning him on. "You outdone anything I expected you to do, that's for sure, i'm still kinda in a haze. So that’s what the queen bee has to offer?", he chuckled letting her go, she winked at him before sliding back to sit against her bedframe. “Hey Alexa, text Gretchen and tell her to visit every Erewon in the city and pick up a smoothie from each of them, I’ll know if she lies”, Regina shouted into the air.
Before she could make another move, Rodrick grabbed both of her ankles, pulling her down to lay flat on the mattress, “So, I think it’s your turn now then”?
