#the fucking dismissive auDACITY of it all

[lovemyromance]

god that elucien blog is so annoying. they have the worst takes and get mad whenever theyre forced to have a logical argument and always start attacking. that comment about your trauma not being special was fucked up, sorry you had to deal with that. theyre horrid sometimes

Thanks. Honestly, I was a little taken aback by the force at which these Gwynriels started attacking me all because I said the ship makes me uncomfortable.

They just kept harping that all SA victims are fine with Gwynriel and it only makes Elriels uncomfortable and I was just like "actually, not true." And I got hit with the "well your personal SA trauma doesn't make you any more superior to try to shame an entire ship" or whatever

Like what? Excuse me?

Aside from the fact that I literally never said that

Genuinely I had to sit there like - what the actual fuck? I'm not out here commenting on anti posts telling them their ship is making me uncomfortable. I just scroll past it.

But then they come onto my post and have the audacity to call me all sorts of names and dismiss my own trauma to tell me that "actually no Gwyn is ready to have all these aggressively sexual HCs we have because she asked Azriel if he could sing and they can ship them because they're fictional characters". Like okay? I don't care?

Why come into my post and say I'm wrong? Say I'm misogynistic for wanting to ship female characters (especially ones with SA trauma) only when they are ready and with people they've actually shown interest in?

Literally these people are insane. I'm blocking all of them from now on. I'm not having "debates" anymore with people who don't even respect real people, let alone fictional characters.

#elriel

[morepopcornplease]

once again struck by how actually unfathomably grotesque and dismissively inhumane abortion is

#read a Vox article on millenial motherhood #get a stupid ass mofo line like #we can’t address the struggles of moms without tackling the outmoded but still powerful beliefs that men and women should not share in pare #that women are better suited to raising children. Those ideas are rooted in the same thinking that motivated reversing Roe v. Wade #....to YOU #vox reporter who interviewed precisely 0 supreme court justices for this hot take #sure! #its about life and death #its about LIFE AND DEATH. #the fucking dismissive auDACITY of it all #how fucking dare you

[redrocketpanda]

I think I should get a sticker for surviving my exposure to a straight cis man yday who decided to go on some kind of rant about The Song of Achilles based on his disagreement with the "obsession" people seem to have about whether Achilles is gay or not when it "doesn't even matter" and the entirety of Achilles' story is about the fact "a woman got taken from him". And then proceeded to make a derisive joke to his friend about mixing ashes together (bc apparently this is a deeply funny and pathetic thing)

Bearing in mind he said this to me (person who adores TSOA, named my dog after this version of Achilles, has done a podcast episode on Patrochilles, and is deeply obsessed with Greek mythology & queer history)

And that the friend he was making this joke to is a queer, polyamorous cis guy who I've been fucking for the past 3 weeks...

Like bro, idk what kind of flex you thought you were making but it is not the one

#i literally felt so enraged that all i could to was to tell him menacingly that he should be careful what he says and who he says it to #i couldn’t even construct an argument at the time to show him just how WRONG he was about everything #bc i was too busy being extremely angry and thrown aback #not bc he doesnt like TSOA (wrong but i can live with people having incorrect tastes) #but the fucking audacity of straight men to openly mock & dismiss the importance of queer history and attempts to combat queer erasure #cishet men should be banned from expressing their opinions tbh #tsoa #the song of achilles

[thisisaname-whatahappyname]

i fucking hate my cousins why is it that whenever you guys vent to me im expected to be all therapist to you guys but whenever i vent u guys just dismiss my problems like. fuck you asshols go comfort yourselves. fucking users.

#WHY AM I YOUR DESIGNATED THERAPIST #yes im good at comforting people but like #AT LEAST TRY TO ACTUALLY CARE? #one of them was all like 'i tell you everything why do you not to the same with me' like idk bitchass maybe because the last time i tried #you dismissed me so bad i ended up fucking spiraling and breaking down for three hours? #i already elaborated on the other bitchass cousin on my previous vent but God Damn THE AUDACITY on these FUCKERS #vent #why do i always feel the need to help u guys when you fucks are suffering but when its my turn id be better off healing myself #like Who The Fuck reacts to someone saying 'ah yes my father told me to kill myself' with #'you have it easiest your father throws tantrums my father thinks im dead to him unless i go to amerika and our others cousin dad cheated' #MF GUESS WHOS DAD ALSO CHEATED #FUCK YOU #WHY DO I HELP YOU AND CARE ABOUT YOU SO MUCH #WHEN YOURE LIKE THIS WHEN I ACTUALLY NEED YOU #fuck this im doing what it takes to stay civil in family reunions and in friendgroup meetings but like i am adding a solid 50 meters of #distance from those fuckheads #plastic platican tayo ngayon sa mga mangagamut pre

[a0random0gal]

Do you know what infuriates me the most about Rhaenyra?

No, it's not her entitlement, her spoiled princess behavior and surprisingly not even her insufferable stans.

It's her complete lack of action after she marries Daemon. She finds herself in a situation where her father's health is declining at a steady pace and is as such incapable of ruling and in need of a regency. This is her big moment right? Historically when an old king/queen needed a regent their heir always stepped up to fulfill that role, to start taking the crown and testing the waters while their parent was still alive and show the council, the nobles and the people what kind of ruler they were going to be after their mom/dad died.

But not Rhaenyra. Who loved to talk about the things she was going to do after becoming queen, who loved to remind everyone that she was still the heir in spite of Aegon's birth.

This is her occasion, her opportunity to take power and start ruling, to hold her first meeting with the small council, to begin making allies at court and establish her authority and gain respect as future queen.

But no for some reason she decides to fuck off to Dragonstone and leave all the politics, all the big decisions and royal duties to the greens.

And after that not only has the audacity to complain that Alicent and Otto are the real power behind the feeble Viserys, but to get mad after being "usurped".

Like girl you literally handed them the chance to dismiss you and crown Aegon in your place on a silver plate, you don't have the right to react like this, cause unlike you they can actually recognize an opportunity and seize it lmao.

#Boy oh boy do I love to call out Nyra on her bs #house of the dragon #hotd #alicent hightower #anti team black #pro team green #pro alicent hightower #anti rhaenyra targaryen #otto hightower #daemon targaryen #aegon ii targaryen

[callme-darling]

work tensions

or; you’re a prosecutor working a trial vincent is defending and your colleagues get the feeling there’s some underlying tension between the way you’re at each others throats

word count: 3.3k

warnings: smut, like genuinely filthy shit, fem reader, hate sex (kinda), sex in the workplace (so like semi-public ig), vincent and y/n are rivals/enemies, this actually somewhat has a plot lmao, hellllaaaaa tension, so much teasing, degradation (he say slut once), cocky vincent, begging if you squint, throat holding/light choking, fingering, no protection, p-in-v, not proofread, friendly ending (bc i’m a big softie)

a/n: HAPPY VALENTINES DAY LADIES!!!! hope you enjoy🤍🤍

you were amongst the youngest of the attorneys in the city courthouse. you were fortunate in the opportunities afforded to you, but you also worked your ass off to get where you were today. which is why you, for the life of yourself, can’t understand what the hell you did to earn the contempt of vincent renzi.

from the first time you both stood in the same courtroom, it seemed like his eyes were always set in a hard glare when they saw you. so whose to blame you for reciprocating the hostility? your colleagues usually give you well-intentioned advice to at least talk to him, something you haven’t even done outside of casework. who knows, they’d shrug, maybe it’s just ill-concealed intrigue.

you were young, but you weren’t naive enough to think the esteemed defense attorney didn’t absolutely hate your guts.

some of your colleagues, however, seemed hellbent on taking matters into their own hands after a minor scuffle that left the judge’s office suspended in a tense battle of wills. the case wasn’t even that serious—just a petty case of ‘he-said, she-said’ neighbor dispute. but the simple judge’s meeting quickly fell apart to a dispute that devolved to obviously personal jabs.

when the judge finally had enough, she dismissed both you and vincent from the room with the stern instruction to “talk out whatever issues you two obviously have, and get your shit together”.

you’re on vincent’s heels as he speeds out of the room. as soon as you hear the door click shut behind you, you’re glancing up and down the hallway. vincent runs a hand through his hair, annoyance etched across his features.

“what the hell is your problem?”

you gawk at him, “MY problem?!” you chuckle at his audacity. “you’re the one who started all this-“ you wave your hands in the space between you two like some enigmatic boundary separated you.

his tongue prodded the inside of his cheek, and a roll of his eyes had you seeing red. before you had a chance to properly rip his throat out, an older man poked his head out from another room, face stern as he recommended you find somewhere else to continue whatever dispute you deigned important enough to have a tempermental yelling match in the middle of the office.

with a noise that could only be chalked up at pure irritation, vincent began strutting down the hall. you were quick behind him, wordlessly keeping in step with his long strides. you weren’t done with your conversation, and you’ll be damned if you let him walk away now.

you were in an unfamiliar, and rather desolate, wing of the building when he spun around to face you, his face inches from yours as he ducked down slightly to glare into your eyes. “quit following me like a damn dog!”

your eyes widened before a hard scowl settled on your face. “not until you tell me what your problem with me is.” you fume, “ever since i got here, you have had some personal vendetta against me. you’re going to tell me why.”

his jaw clenched as his eyes scanned your face. “your feelings are hurt because i don’t like you, is that what this is?”

you roll your eyes. “that’s bullshit and we both know it. the truth. now.”

“i need a reason to dislike you?”

“you can make one up for all i care, but i’m tired of your attitude fucking with my job.”

he chuckles dryly, “oh, i see. that’s what this is about.”

your brows scrunch together. at your look of confusion, he takes a step closer, breath fanning your face as he whispers through tight lips, “it’s my attitude fucking with your job, hm? that’s what drives me so fucking crazy- you’re so blind.” he rubs a hand over his mouth, taking a breath before his eyes are hard set on you again. “don’t think i don’t see it—the way you’ve charmed our colleagues, how you bat your pretty little eyes at the judges to get your way-“

you cut him off, disbelief dripping from your words. “excuse me?”

he scoffs, “oh don’t be coy.”

“you know what, vincent,” you clench your fists, nails biting into your palms as they shook, “you can fuck right off.”

you go to turn and walk away, but a thought of venom penetrates your mind and you whip right back around, nearly nose-to-nose as you whisper low, “just say you’re threatened by me next time.”

you watch as something akin to rage flash across vincent’s face. he doesn’t say anything for a long moment, but his eyes bore into yours with a silent threat that chills your spine. his tone is low, dangerous. the rasp makes the hair along your arms stand on end. “i suggest you choose your next words wisely, y/n.”

maybe it was your stubbornness, or a fleeting air of confidence, but you hold his stare, your own voice quieter but just as menacing. “vincent renzi is threatened by the fresh-faced competition and can’t stand the thought that i may be the better attorney.” were you being childish in taunting him? yes, probably. but the months of tension were reaching critical mass, and whatever thoughts crossed your mind were being said.

what had just slipped through your lips, though, was definitely the wrong thing to have said.

a hand harshly grips your bicep as he drags you to the nearest room. he flicks on one set of lights and slams the door shut. he’s fuming, you note. however, you don’t fully register just how angry he is.

he’s silent for a pregnant moment, the air suffocating as he watches you with an analytical glare, his body seemed almost animalistic in how he stalked towards with with silent strides. you feel a new form of anxiety quicken your breathing.

he’s close now, so close you can smell his day-old cologne like it were freshly applied. his voice is quiet, but it makes you jolt under his intense gaze. “you want to know why i hate you so much?”

you feel as though you’re trapped in a stupor, your mind dizzy with this newfound suspense. you give him a small nod, not trusting your voice to remain firm in this intensity.

you swear you feel his lips just barely ghost over your cheek as he speaks, nearly growling in your ear. “i hate you because you’re so infuriating.” he pauses. “the way you walk around the courtroom like it’s yours to own, how you always make the most nit-picky points. and what pisses me off the most, is how i’m so attracted to you because of it.”

you were holding your breath. you felt your mind reeling as silence settled over the room. only the sound of your own breathing and the blood rushing through your veins reached your ears as you held vincent’s gaze.

his ferocity seemed to have diminished a fraction, but his jaw remained clenched. words escaped your brain as you tried to wrack together some coherent response, anything to quell the heat burning you from the inside out.

when no such words came, you decided ‘to hell with it’.

your eyes flicked to vincent’s lips, rubbed a pretty red from his hands and teeth. then you looked back into his eyes. an exchange that required no voice.

‘do it then,’ you silently dared. do it.

and so, he did.

his palm was warm on your cheek, fingers wrapping around the back of your head as he crashed his lips to yours. the force of the kiss had you stumbling back before vincent’s other hand caught your hip.

impatient. that was the best word to describe the way vincent kissed you. you tasted his lips on yours, body humming as you become acutely aware just who you’re kissing. and the mere thought has your thighs clenching together.

there was no room to speak with the way his mouth trailed down your chin, dipping into the curve of your neck. a shudder rushes through your muscles when you feel his teeth nip at the skin of your throat, eliciting a soft gasp to fall from your kiss-swollen lips.

you can feel the faint press of a grin to your collarbone. he coaxed your legs to walk back a few steps, securing your body between the table and his own.

his breath was warm as he spoke against your shoulder, “tell me to stop.” the featherlight touch of his fingers sent jolts of electricity through you as they skimmed down your arms and over your waist. “tell me you don’t want this, and i’ll let you walk out that door.”

your lungs burned when you finally released your breath. you could feel the heat pooling in your stomach, and the deep octave of his voice was doing little to soothe it. you were surprised by your own voice’s clarity, “shut up and kiss me again.”

you felt his body melt deeper into yours as your palms pulled him in by the side of his neck. you allowed yourself to be more eager, greedier, as your tongue teased his bottom lip.

he pressed his hips firmly against yours, his rasping moan nearly making you whimper in response. he was breathless when he pulled away. the pad of his thumb stroked your bottom lip, his own shining with a mixture of yours and his spit.

“i’m going to ruin you..” he murmured, leaning down again, his lips brushing over yours as his thumb holds your chin in place.

you prop your hand on the table behind you, not trusting your legs to hold you for much longer. your voice is meeker this time as you whisper against his touch, “you can try.”

vincent kisses you with an assured hunger. his touch dominating as he grips your hips, the fabric of your skirt gradually bunching in his hold. you can sense the apprehension in him, his internal battle of morals. your hand cradles the back of his head, nails stroking his scalp as you use your other to guide his hand under your blouse. blue eyes meet yours as you chide, “you don’t have to play nice with me, vincent.” the lull of his name from your lips paired with the way you brought his palm to grope at your chest, he needed no more convincing.

“such a little fuckin’ minx.” he muttered under his breath. your skirt was bunched up to your waist, your panties shoved down your legs. he had your back flat on the tabletop, hips slotted between your thighs as his eyes raked over you.

you could feel yourself slowly dripping onto the table below you, cheeks flushed with both lust and embarrassment.

vincent smirked. seeing you laid out like this, on display for him has his dick twitching in his pants. he appraised your needy pussy, a tentative two fingers teasing your folds as your thighs trembled. he watched how you grew shy, hand hovering over your mouth as you whine at the fleeting touch.

finally, you feel the pair of fingers slide into your soaking cunt. a whimper escapes you when he’s knuckle-deep in your clenching heat, the palm of his hand grazing your clit.

his gaze is attentive as he makes note of every little reaction you have to each stroke of his fingers. he bites his lip as he witnesses your eyes softly roll back when his fingers find the spot that has your chest heaving and hips shuddering. he leans down so his ear is next to your mouth, intent on hearing every single needy little whine he lures from you. he presses his lips to yours when he feels you creep up to your climax. “are you going to come on my hand?” his eyes find yours, half-lidded and glassy, and the sight alone makes him groan as his cock aches.

“is this all it takes to have you all pretty and compliant?” the teasing lilt in his voice only makes your cunt flutter around his fingers. “not so smart now when i have two fingers in this little pussy of yours, hm?”

you swear you felt like you were going to pass out. the combination of his fingers and palm against your pussy, his degrading mocking, and taunting eyes has you keening under him in a newfound desperation as you teetered precariously on the edge. so, so close to being rendered incoherent with only two fingers.

his touch leaves you.

you whine loudly, pouting as you attempt to catch your stolen breath. you move to sit up, but a large firm hand across your collarbones keeps you sprawled on the table. you squirm under his hold. “vincent.. why?” under any other circumstances, the needy pitch of your voice would’ve made you cringe, but your depravity gave you little to care about aside from satisfying your incessant lust right now.

his voice was sickeningly taunting as he cooed down at you, his other hand brushing the hair from your face. “come on, you have to work for it.”

you could feel that familiar animosity sit on your tongue, but you hold it. though, based on the sly smile looking down at you, you got the sense he could feel it too.

“how ‘bout this..” he sighs instead. his eyes trailed over your face, blue irises harboring a certain warmth that had anticipation swirling in your stomach. “if you say a simple, little sentence, i’ll give you what you want.”

you chew on your bottom lip, mulling over what was no doubt a trap. “what would you have me say?”

the way his smile widened had your pussy clenching around nothing, the cold air making you shiver. “i want you to say: ‘only vincent renzi can make my pussy this wet’.

“oh fuck y-“

his hand catches your jaw before you could finish your crude remark. his fingers lightly dig into your cheeks as he comes nose-to-nose with you. his voice is dangerously low but a softness keeps to the edges. “would you rather me leave you here, like this? your pussy is practically weeping.” as if to reinforce his words, a hand lightly slaps against your folds. the wet sound had your face turning a new shade of red, lips pouting as his other hand still holds your face close to his.

you don’t say anything, internally battling with yourself. the tip of vincent’s tongue pokes out to wet his lips, your eyes following the minute movement with bated breaths. then his soft voice buzzes in your ear. “c’mon.. just say how i make you drip like a needy slut. let me hear that pretty voice of yours, the one you like to use so much.”

you felt a whine croak in your throat as the hand between your thighs gave your clit another tap. “i’ll give you three seconds.” his low tone warned.

“three..”

you felt your breath stutter, eyes searching his. there’s no way he’s serious.

“two..”

he wouldn’t actually leave you like this, would he?”

“on-“

“okay.” you cut him off, words rushed as you grip the wrist of the hand holding your face.

he peers down at you expectantly. the corner of his lips upturned slightly, and you hated how attractive it was.

“only vincent can make me this wet..” he’s never seen you so timid and meek than in that moment, something that only added to the building heat of the room.

“now, was that so hard?” he quirked a brow, fingers playing with your aching cunt as he notes the way your slick soaks his palm. “you’ve done your part, so be a good girl and take what i give you, yeah?”

you nod dumbly as his hand drops from your jaw. your body felt like it was buzzing, heart hammering in your chest as you watched him fumble with his pants, pulling his leather belt off with one hand.

he plants a searing kiss to your lips, a trained dominance permeating his movements. you moan against him, hips twitching as his pants brush against your bare core. a hand slides between your bodies to free his leaking cock from his slacks. you swallow any sounds he makes as his hand strokes his dick a few times. “you got to stay quiet. think you can handle that?”

you ignore the obvious taunt, hand on the back of his neck as you pull at the ends of his hair. “just fuck me already, vince.”

he chuckles dryly, but you sense the anticipation crawling under his skin. next time, you’ll be the one making him beg.

a drawn out gasp fills the room as you feel him slowly begin to sink into your tight heat. fuck, you felt dizzy as your cunt pulsed, sucking him in deeper.

you both moan in with quiet sighs when he bottoms out. he starts slow, but eventually finds a rhythm that has you whining with each thrust, your whimpers gradually growing in volume as his thumb toyed with your sore clit. he curses under his breath, a large hand gripping the sides of your throat.

his voice was labored but firm, “you want the entire firm to hear how you sound with my dick in you? be quiet.” he warns again.

you try, you really do. your hand is over your mouth, eyes watering with unshed tears as his pace quickens. your other hand flies to his shoulder, nails biting into his shirt in a silent plea. his voice floats back to you. “but staying quiet was never your strong suit, was it?”

“fuck, oh shit-“ you whimper, eyes screwing shut when you feel the start of your orgasm wrack through you. “vincent, please, oh-“ your eyes fluttered as his grip around your neck tightened a fraction.

“i told you, you would eventually start begging.”

you can barely hear him over the erratic pulsing in your ears. your entire body tenses, cunt clenching around his dick like a vice. he hisses above you, teeth gritted as he watches you come undone.

he pulls out of you, stroking himself a few more times before he’s coming on your pussy and thighs.

you lay on the table, breathing hard as you come down from the orgasmic high. you stare at vincent who’s already watching you, breaths sharing a calming rhythm. when you feel more like yourself, you start to sit up. he hands you a box of tissues, eyes daring to glance at the mess he made on you.

you attempt to straighten your blouse, the collar of which looks as though it had gone through a windstorm. your eyes scan the floor for your panties.

vincent’s palm offers the small ball of satin into your fingers. your gaze catches his as he suppresses a grin. “wouldn’t want to be caught without these, would you?”

you glare at him, though it’s void of the usual hostility. you finish straightening your clothes, blouse retucked into your smoothed-out skirt. you turn back to vincent who’s been put back together for a couple minutes already, leaning against the wall idly.

your mind screamed at you to fill the silence, to say something to settle the oncoming disquiet.

to your surprise, it was vincent who broke the silence first. “who would have thought that this is something you’re into?” his eyes appraised you again. there was no adversity in his jest, only a gentle prodding.

“you can’t say that like you didn’t just fuck me the same.”

he nods, toothy grin starting to crack through his lips. you can see the way his fingers twitch, itching to hold a cigarette between them.

“want a smoke?” you offer, testing the waters.

his eyes catch yours, and he holds your gaze for a moment. then the first genuine, true smile you’ve seen from him is directed at you.

“i’d like that, yes.”

#♱₊˚✧ filth . #swann arlaud #anatomy of a fall #anatomie d'une chute #vincent renzi #anatomy of a fall vincent

[tired-teacher-blog]

Let's talk about you teasing Bakugou in the presence of his oblivious assistant, shall we?

A soft knock is heard on Bakugou's office door, prompting his head to snap up in surprise as he groans the usual "come in" that signals his assistant to do just that.

_ "I'm sorry to bother you sir, but I have the documents you asked for, also, your three o'clock meeting is pushed to four as you requested." the soft spoken young lady expresses with a smile.

_ "Ugh, okay yeah thanks, just put'em there." he motions for her to place the pile of paperwork on his desk as he replies with obvious agitation that does not escape his assistant's attention.

_ "Right away," and she does as asked before turning on her heel and proceeding to leave, only to come to a sudden halt a moment later, "but sir, is everything alright? You look a bit unwell."

_ "What? I'm fine what the hell? Just get back to your work please." he rasps out with a mixture of frustration and distress towards the poor woman whose only concern was her boss's wellbeing.

Her worries are valid though— no matter how hard the pro hero is trying to dismiss them, because his gritted teeth and shallow breaths, the sheen of sweat covering his flushed skin, his shaky hands balled up tensely, and his unfocused eyes roaming all around the fancy office, are all signs of something that the young woman cannot comprehend nor has the audacity to pry into.

_ "Then I'll return to my desk sir, please let me know if you need anything." and with that, she finally leaves.

_ "Ah fuck.. that was close." he leans back on his chair and chuckles hazily whilst peering down through blazing eyes.

_ "You held out well though." and there you are, in all your glory, concealed under his desk while kneeling between his legs and smiling innocently as you swallowed his pearly seeds and licked your lips hungrily.

Even with his assistant in the same space as you moments ago, your friskiness and mischief coaxed you to keep on bobbing your head eagerly on your boyfriend's throbbing cock as he struggled to communicate with the woman.

_ "You're a bad girl aren't ya?" his voice turns dark and menacing, and his smirk sends shivers throughout your whole being as he admires the way his thumb glides along your reddened lips, pushing the remnants of his cum into your awaiting mouth, "c'mere."

You yelp with surprise as he pulls you up effortlessly and places you on his thick leg, his mouth instantly latching on to yours and it feels as if he's trying to eat you whole.

_ "You should pay me more surprise visits hun." he mouthes into the kiss as his hand travels up your skirt to fondle the lace hem of your panties.

_ "What are you doing? You should get back to work now! We'll continue this at home." you try squirming your way out of his clutches but he's way stronger than you are.

_ "Weren't ya paying attention just now? The meeting is pushed to four, so we have enough time to kill until then." and he means it, you know he does, because if his words aren't enough persuasion for you, then the growing stiffness nudging your thigh definitely is.

Banner by : @/cafekitsune

#bakugou katsuki smut #bakugou katsuki x reader #bakugou katsuki x you #bakugou katsuki imagine #bakugou katsuki headcanons #bakugo katsuki smut #bakugo katsuki x reader #bakugo katsuki x y/n #bakugo smut #bakugo imagine #bakugo headcanons #katsuki bakugo x reader #katsuki bakugo smut #katsuki bakugou imagine #katsuki bakugou headcanons #katsuki bakugou x reader #katsuki bakugo headcanons #katsuki bakugo imagine #katsuki bakugo x you #katsuki bakugou smut

[captainpulisic]

you dream of my mouth - m. mount

a/n - this is for my baby s, you made me the happiest girl ever today- oh, and molly for manifesting it

wc: 2.5k gif creds to owner

whoever has the fucking audacity to be knocking at your door at two in the morning just made their way to the top of your enemy list. you stifle a yawn as you reach the door, who's even awake at this time?

slightly raising your tiptoes, you look through the peephole at the inconsiderate person who clearly doesn’t care about you getting your beauty sleep. yet the person you see has your eyes widening and falling to the ground, out of sight. 

as if he could see you. 

you’re sure you must still be dreaming. this has to be some sort of too realistic hallucination. you must be still tucked into bed, having the weirdest dream of your life. because why else would mason fucking mount be at your doorstep after months of no contact?

there was no reason for him to be here. after signing and transferring to manchester, he had wasted no time in breaking up with you, reasoning that long distance never really worked. after that and too far away from his former life, he was quick to be papped with new girls every other week. it made you miserable, seeing how quick he was to move on, to be so open about his newest flings. you, on the other hand, had some decency to be on the downlow about the guys you began to date- or tried to date, anyway. none of them managed to stick, falling victim to you comparing them to mason. they just weren’t him. and you hated how quick you were to dismiss them over that.  

catching your breath, you gain the courage to look through, again. your eyes hadn’t been deceiving you, it really was him. it was a blurry and disoriented lense but from what you can make out, he looks disheveled and quite a mess. his hair looks tousled, as if he had been continuously tugging at it.

you remember that had always been a nervous habit of his. and a habit of yours had become swatting his hands away, replacing them with your own as you tried to style his hair back into place. oh, how your hands were itching to do it right now. to run your fingers through it and feel him lean into your touch.

it had been ages since that’d happened. 

your heart wasn’t giving your brain no time to think because before you knew it, you were unlocking and opening the door. 

and there mason stood, looking at you like a deer caught in headlights. he tried to take a step towards you, stumbling in the process. he braced himself against the door frame, trying to balance himself as he mumbled your name. and you curse yourself for pulling him towards yourself, giving him some extra support. slurring his words, “tell me it isn’t true.”

great, you sigh. he’s drunk. 

“ben told me that he saw you out today,” he manages to mumble. your body freezes when his hand reaches up to cradle your jaw. and your heart speeds up when his thumb begins to swipe at your bottom lip. his eyes shift from your own eyes down to your lips, “that he saw out with some guy, saw you kissing him. ‘s not fair, it was me you were kissing not too long ago y’know?”

he always did get clingy when drunk. you’re too weak to shove him away but not weak enough to bite back, “until you left.”

you see the words register, as his eyes show a flash of hurt. the corner of his mouth slightly dips, as he shakes his, trying to forget about the night he idiotically let you go. 

“oh, ‘m sorry I left, pretty girl.” after a moment of eyes sweeping all over your face, his lips turn upwards, into a dopey smile. with his hand still cupping your jaw, he begins to swipe at your bottom lip again. “but i’m back now.” 

you’re certain your face is burning red, legs already turning to jelly. thank god he’s still technically holding you up or you’re certain you’d be on the floor by now. you curse him for having this effect on you and curse yourself for still falling for it. your problem had always been being too weak around him.

he waits for you to throw a sarcastic quip, or even to tell him to ‘fuck off’, but all he gets from you are blushing cheeks and an averted gaze. taking this as a good sign, he leans in to leave a kiss at the corner of your mouth. pulling pack to check your reaction, he grins when he sees your closed eyes and ghost of a smile. 

from there, he plants a few more open mouthed kisses on your cheek, always going back to the corner of your mouth in between each one. never on your lips, though- just slight brushes over them. the damned bastard won’t give you the satisfaction too easily. when he feels your lips begin to chase his, desperate to taste him again, he disappears once more. with the hand cupping your jaw, he lightly tilts your face upward, giving himself plenty of access to focus on your neck.  

you’re about to protest from the lack of actual kissing you’ve received but quickly bite your own tongue when you feel him leave a small bite at the crook of your neck. he presses a peck to the same spot, marveling at the fast forming bruise. mason hums, “there, the way it should be.” 

he fails to see you roll your eyes at his possessive antics, too busy refamiliarizing himself with the crook of your neck. it’s a trail of kisses from the curve of your shoulder to the space behind  your ear, a few bites given in between. hearing your breathy sighs, he takes it as reaffirmations to continue. so he kisses your neck and jaw and cheek (anywhere but your actual mouth, really- which becomes quite frustrating!), again and again and again. 

finding his way back up to your face, he comes to a halt when he’s eye level with you. as if seeing each other for the first time again, under happier circumstances, there’s a doe-eyed fondness in both your eyes and matching lovesick smiles.

decidedly having had enough of his teasing, your hands find their way to the sides of his stubble filled cheeks. it’s all so fast as your lips finally meet masons, finding a rhythm that’s all too familiar. it was soft, yet deep and heated. it was the making up of months without each other, being desperate to fill in for the lost time. instantly, you taste the alcohol that has him acting so brazen. both your hands were desperate, tugging and pulling at each others clothes. his hands have found their way to the hem of your shirt, feeling the warm skin of your hips. closing your eyes, your arms drop down to his shoulders, around his neck, pulling him flush against yourself. and you felt a tinge of satisfaction every time he moaned into the kiss. 

his lips never leaving yours, he began to guide you backward, still knowing the layout of your flat without having to look. when you felt the back of your legs hit the couch, you let mason push you down to lay on it. in an instant, he followed you down and was on you. again, his mouth was all over you. neck, jaw, lips, cheeks and repeat. 

you come somewhat back to your senses when you feel his fingers nimbly trying to unbutton your blouse. he finds it a difficult feat due to his still inebriated state. 

how often did he find himself in this predicament with all the girls he had been out with recently? your horrid, sensible mind question itself. all those girls that he’s papped with, how many of them end up on his couch? did any of them naively think they’d be the ones to finally lock him and his heart down, just as you had? 

the thought of it made you nauseous.

you couldn’t fall victim to him, not again. if you gave yourself to him once more, watching him leave would utterly destroy you. the possibility of history repeating itself, of him leaving and parading his latest conquest back in manchester, would be your death. you’re not sure you’d recover this time and you don’t want to see it through to find out. 

“mase- wait,” your heart feels betrayed by your mind, as you find the strength to lightly shove his shoulders. 

you see the confusion in his eyes as he peers down at you. holding himself up with his forearms, careful not to squish you, “is something wrong?”

you try to voice your pesky worries but you can’t seem to find the words. instead, you just shake your head as you begin to detangle yourself from him. you can see the confusion etched on his face but nonetheless, he silently mirrors your actions, unsure of when the night had taken a turn. it’s an awkward maneuver of limbs and loud silence. 

he had been positive everything was going to go his way tonight. truth be told, when ben had told him he had seen you out on a date with some guy, he had seen red. he was aware of how hypocritical he was being but the high volume of drinks he had drunk were making him think his childish tantrum was reasonable. taking another shot for good measure, he called a cab and made his way to your place. 

he wasn’t sure what his endgame was when you opened the door, if you even opened it. he wanted to confront you for moving on. he wanted to apologize for leaving and ruining the loveliest relationship he’d ever had. he wanted you to apologize for snogging some loser who wasnt him, out in the open where anybody could see. he wanted to apologize if he ever made you think any of those girls meant what you had to him.

each knock to your door, his mind flashed to those flings he had been stupid enough to have. with every knock, he felt a sudden urgency to let you know that they amounted to nothing. you needed to know of the few occasions these girls left, annoyed and offended that he had accidentally said your name instead. that no girl made his tummy feel as fuzzy as you did, no one came close. maybe it wasn’t the wisest thing to do but his intoxicated, hazy brain had to tell you that most nights, he’d fall asleep to dreams of you. 

too wrapped up in his thoughts, you clearing your throat snapped him back to the present. your eyes glued to the floor “i’m going to call ben to pick you up, okay?” 

what? why? masons mouth feels too dry. he’s at a loss for words. he hadn’t told you half of the things he wanted to and now you were kicking him out. he was sure his shock would sober him up.

as you stand up from the couch to go retrieve your phone, all he can do is helplessly stare at your retreating figure. he had so much to tell you and his brain was failing him. that last shot was a mistake, not a confidence booster as he had thought. 

when you come back into the room, he’s able to catch the ending of you saying, “alright, see you soon.”

you make a point on sitting on the other side of the couch, putting some distance between the two of you.

no, he wants to whine. I don’t want to leave. I wanna be with you and kiss you and your pretty mouth. I fall asleep dreaming of it. 

all he can slur out, “I wanna kiss you, again.”

it pains you to say, “mason, no.”

“why not?” he pouts, a sad look in his eyes. he reaches for your hand that had been folded in your lap, the hand that had been itching to touch him again. rubbing his thumb along it, “you used to love kissing me.”

“until you left me and started kissing other girls,” you bite back. you know it’s not a fair fight, him not fully there to defend himself. and then you feel even worse as you watch his face fall. 

“I’m sorry,” he says in a small voice, “I never should’ve left.”

it’s useless to argue, he won’t even remember this in the morning. you sigh, “forget it, ben will be here soon.”

resigned, mason nods and leans back to sit on the couch. the silence is deafening and all he wants to do is kiss you. why won’t you let me kiss you? his brain wants to shout. 

as the clock ticks on the wall, he feels his eyes grow tired by the minute. he hoped ben would get lost and he’d be forced to spend the night. he didn’t care if nothing physically happened between the two of you, just being in your proximity would leave him content. 

the thought of it makes him let out a soft chuckle, with a yawn following close by. and on your side of the couch, you let your eyes wander towards him. it hurts having so close yet with the knowledge that you’ll never have him again, not truly. tomorrow he'll be on his way back to his new home with new girls waiting for him. 

no, it’s better this way you try to reassure yourself.

hearing another yawn escape him, you allow yourself to fully look at him. offering a small smile, “rest, i’ll wake you when ben gets here.”

“I don’t wanna,” another yawn, “I need to tell you so much.”

“you can tell me some other time.”

“but what if you don’t ever wanna talk another time,” his voice is sad and a bit sleepy. he’s about to fall into slumber any second now, you remember the signs of it. eyes slightly closing then opening, “and you need to know.”

you catch yourself whispering, “know what?”

he leans his head back further into the couch cushion. his words come out all mumbled together but you’re able to hear a faint ‘mouth’. 

“hmm?”

“your mouth, your pretty mouth”, more inaudible whispers, “I dream of it all the time.”

“mase,” you're cut off by a knock at the door. clearly timing had never been on either of your sides. when you look back at him, you’re met with his peaceful, resting face. maybe this was for the better. and as you let ben in and simply watch him half-carry mason to his car, your heart inexplicably aches. there was a sense of finality to the situation, an unspoken final goodbye. this time tomorrow, he’d be back in his new life and you’d have to start with your new life. it was over and you had to come to terms with it

this was kinda rushed but needed to celebrate the exciting day,, like always, feedback is very much appreciated!

#mason mount fic #mason mount fluff #mason mount x reader #mason mount imagine #mason mount #songfic

[hyewka]

alo! love ur sub beomgyu universe

could u write sub cat beomgyu being too clingy nd bratty that he gets punished by his owner or simply just being in unbearable heat nd begs for his owner to breed her??? hybrid fics r crazy mad nd im crazy

warnings; sub!gyu, hybrid au, not proofread

imagine kitty!beom who keeps looking over at you with a permanent pout on his face because you scolded him and told him to keep his distance for scratching you earlier. his bottom lip would wobble as he attempts to get you to make eye contact, kitty claws buried in the pillow hes holding tight against him but youre just not budging.

“i didnt mean it.” he finally breaks.

“you didnt mean what?” you dismissively mumble keeping your eyes on your laptop as you finish up your report.

he whines, throwing the pillow away to all of a sudden break your command and cling onto your arm. “you know i didnt mean to hurt you, i really didnt! please dont be mad”

“beomgyu you crossed the line, i told you to keep a distance.” you warn.

“who cares about the line! just tell me youre not mad!”

and ofc hes holding onto you and shaking you to try to get you to look at him like hes owed your forgiveness

kitty beomgyu who cant really sit through a punishment without purring and pressing his body flush to yours whining for you to forgive him that he’ll do better but that only has you snap and promptly put your hand down his pants to shut up his bratty adamant complaining. it does just that. having him bucking and panting already, its like he does this to get this exact reaction out of you, to have your hand wrapped around his dick. pumping it but not letting him cum. his loudness tonight has you getting a migraine so you end up shoving a finger in his watering mouth which he eagerly wraps his lips around sucking earnestly and moaning wantonly—slut.

when you can’t focus on doing two things at once you slip your fingers out of his mouth, a string of saliva breaking. the moment you do, he’s loud again, whining and mewling, you resort to slapping his thighs punishingly. “use your shirt kitty”

and as you pump his pretty cock, trying to focus on your computer, beomgyus biting the ends of his shirt so hard, he drenches it with his saliva he ends up tearing it which again serves to put you out of your productivity. you look over at him, a scowl thrown his way that he doesnt shy away from, this brat. “you cant even control yourself for more than two minutes?” you ask incredulously.

he doesnt even pretend, he immediately shakes his head. “i cant” he breathes out, “i need your pussy, feel like im gonna die”

“aww, kitten feels like he’s gonna die so i just have to give you my pussy don’t i?”

the audacity to nod has you scoff. “raise your arms.” despite how entitled hes been acting, he enthusiastically obliges. when you leave to get a scarf to makeshift a restraint he whines at the loss of your hands on his weeping cock. “what do you want your master to do beommie?” you implore, making sure to tie a tight knot.

he replies almost immediately, without skipping a beat. “wanna breed you.”

you laugh a scoff, straddling his lap, your clothed cunt grinding on his sensitive dick. you could tell it’s driving him to a brink already, he already attempts to break from the scarf. too bad you know how to tie your knots well. “breed me? beommie, let’s not get too absurd, it’s too much even for you.”

you dont expect for him to break so quickly but he does, starting to sniffle, his cute ears twitching uncontrollably, tears welling up in his round eyes. “sit on my cock….p-please.”

you slide the soft cotton of your panties up and down his wet dick, pouting mockingly at the way his face falls into a distraught show of his arousal. his mouth hangs open and hes drooling like a mutt you have to slap him to get him to behave. “don’t be dirty. look pretty with your lips shut.” you say, mouthing at his bare neck.

you can easily pick up on his close mouthed whimper, his pathetic attempt at fucking your heat doesn’t serve to do anything for him and it turns you on even more. “wanna cum on my panties? wanna soil it with your little seed?” you goad, getting breathy yourself as you increase your speed on his fat cock, letting your weight engulf it even more.

he shakes his head, tears streaming down his reddened cheeks. “baby please, i-im gonna die, i’m g-gonna—hic—im gonna burst, baby. it hurts. i don’ wanna cum, jus wanna be in your pretty cunt,”

he lets out another broken plead when you rub his earflaps in circles, making it extra soothing just like he loves, “let it all out kitty, its okay” you drawl

he almost does just that, letting out a deep purr, his tummy untensing. but then its like he snaps out of it, shaking his head in defiance. “dont want to. if im gonna cum its gonna be in your pussy, ill have you drip with my-”

you dig your fingers in his bare skin and he yelps, jolting, uncontrollably sobbing by this point. “jeez, so sensitive. what a baby. arent you, kitty? just a baby needing to be tamed.”

speeding up, having the head of cock brush against your clit every now and then before he finally spills his load, warmth spreading on the bed, dirtying your sheets. his chest’s heaving, and you take some time to look over his tummy, his shirt completely ruined.

“you’re cute” you conclude getting off his softening dick. “but now im serious, dont misbehave. i really need to get my work done, ‘kay beommie?”

he huffs, pouting and turning his head, practically giving you the silent treatment as you shower him with praises, untying the scarf around his wrists and cleaning his thighs up, his stuck up nature shining through. you find it mildly annoying at worst but adorably very beomgyu. you hum in contentment, what a cute brat

#✶ ━━ rana ; answered #txt smut #hybrid smut #beomgyu smut #txt hard hours #txt hard thoughts

[wannaeatramyeon]

Seong Taehoon x Reader: Military Service

Final chapter spoiler! G/N. Fluff.

Your presence slips into stories with other troops. Places you visited together, things you both experienced, time spent side by side.

"Did you used to hang out at the arcade on your own?" A fellow soldier asks Taehoon.

Taehoon thinks of your face lit up in the artificial glow, his battle victories and KO reflected in your eyes. He responds to the question with a shrug.

It used to be true, after Do Woon, then it wasn't true at all once he met you.

.

.

"Are you stupid? Of course Haeundae beach is the best!" A voice pipes up amidst the mess hall chatter.

"Boring." Someone else dismisses, "Everyone always goes there. Overcrowded."

Overcrowded. 

That's one way to put Taehoon's time with you and the Yoo Hobin Company at Daecheon beach, another well known tourist spot.

He spent most of the time annoyed on the train journey, irritated on the sand, shoulder barging people on the pier, and growling at men ogling you for too long.

But then you two ended up drinking on the pier alone that night; you swaying from drinking too much and Taehoon stone cold sober-

"You're really bad tempered you know," you narrow your eyes at Taehoon, who whips his head round at your slurred speech and scowls, "and your personality is definitely something. You're abrasive and mean and hotheaded." 

Taehoon’s eyebrows shoot into his hairline at this unprovoked attack.

"How you have any friends I don't even know. It's like people are attracted to you being an asshole. I suppose I can't talk." You tap your chin, deep in thought and oblivious to how much he looks on the brink of storming off, "Though... I guess you're sweet in your own way. You're cute too. Especially when you pout. I don't pout!" You taunt, in a tone eerily similar to his and you cackle at your own hilarious impression.

Taehoon subtly stops his bottom lip jutting out.

"And you look after me. Even if you also deny that." You direct a drunken grin his way, and don't notice that he doesn't look mad anymore. You didn't even realise he was mad in the first place. "Your disrespect for my personal space is sometimes infuriating too but often hot." You take a swig of your beer muttering, "I don't know why I'm telling you this." 

Taehoon smirks, leaning into your space, holding your chin between his thumb and forefinger, and tilting you up to face him.

"Hot, huh?"

"Asshole," you breathe. You don't know whether the rush of blood to your cheeks is a result of the alcohol or something else.

Taehoon arches an eyebrow, incredulous at your audacity. "I'm the asshole? After everything you just said? You want me to beat you up?"

You huff, looking anywhere but him. "I don't really think you're an asshole. Most of the time. I think I just... I really like you."

You had your first kiss that night. 

You always tell everyone you don't know who kissed who, and Taehoon is surprisingly gentlemanly enough not to say. 

But you remember leaning in first, feeling his gasp-turned-chuckle-turned-sigh on your lips.

.

.

His lungs are on fire, heart thumping in his ears, sweat dripping down his face 

Put through his paces with an 80lb pack on his back, paying for his cocky attitude in the first month to his superiors.

He feels their eyes, impressed though lips curled, as he finishes the 6am drills first yet again. 

"Shit!" Taehoon turns to see a private finishing behind him, a good minute slower, before dropping to all fours and dry heaving.

"H-How the fuck are you so fast? Who did you train with?"

Technically his dad. Taehoon gives his answer, clipped and curt.

What he doesn't mention is you sitting in the dojo all those evenings and nights and early mornings too. In the corner on your laptop, surrounded by books, half falling asleep. Or simply - watching.

What he also doesn't mention, nor has he ever confessed, is that your presence spurs him on to work harder, kick harder, punch harder.

If just for the way your face lights up, mouth forming an 'o', the occasional applause when he's been particularly impressive.

He calls you cringe every time.

Yet he has never mentioned how his chest puffs with pride at your praise, but he thinks it may have been obvious anyway.

.

.

Taehoon spots you, back to him, gently swaying to the music on your own. No doubt eyes on Rumi and Wangguk’s first dance as husband and wife, like everyone else.

Your hair looks longer, though of course it is. It's been months.

Self consciousness creeps in. Taehoon wonders if you mind that he hasn't had time to change, his bomber jackets untouched for so long. He wonders if you will like his hair, short and natural, military standard.

Most of all-

If you will still feel the same. After all, young love is fickle, flighty, fleeting.

He swallows down his nervousness and ignores the fluttering in his stomach.

.

.

You feel an arm curling round your waist. The weight of the hand and the heat of the embrace you've dreamt about for nights on end.

"I've been waiting for you," you whisper.

Taehoon kisses you. It feels like the first time, on the sun bleached pier, all those years ago.

Except, he leans in first. 

The softness of your lips just as he remembers, and tonight, he feels your pleased sigh ghosting his skin.

#taehoon seong #seong taehun #taehoon seong x reader #seong taehun x reader #how to fight #seong taehoon x reader #seong taehoon #taehun x reader #taehoon x reader #how to fight x reader #how to fight headcanons #how to fight manhwa #viral hit headcanons #viral hit manhwa #viral hit x reader #viral hit taehoon #viral hit #wannaeatramyeon

[spiritseeeker]

This singular frame was all it took to undo my very extreme hatred of Adam, Vivienne Medrano how dare you make me feel sympathy for this man-

Like, Adam before this scene? A blatant misogynist and a hypocrite who unabashedly revels in sinners' suffering. A guy who has no regard for anyone else, and who pisses pretty much every viewer off with patronizing jabs like "sorry sweetie" and "try to chillax, babe." Ugh, disgusting.

As the first man, it seems like he got an easy pass into Heaven. Maybe the angels were just saving face, given that their core pair of humans both took the fruit of knowledge of good and evil willingly, ordaining Adam on the technicality that "Eve did it first." But I think we can all agree that it was not on the merit of Adam's virtue.

And then Charlie draws blood during their fight in Episode 8, and, for the first time, Adam genuinely realizes he can be hurt. Like, for the first time in the duration of the show, in his entire fucking existence, someone shows him that he is not, in fact, an all-powerful symbol of power and superiority. He's just a guy with privilege who is just as vulnerable, just as flawed, just as human as the rest of them.

But once the mask is shattered, revealing the rather unexceptional man underneath, does Adam back down? Of course not—he doubles down. There's nothing worse than a narcissist who is virtually incapable of seeing the error of their ways, even when they're clearly backed into a corner. Bruised and bloody, he bellows that he's THE man; everybody should worship him.

For me, that pretty much hit the nail in the coffin. There was no redeeming a character like Adam (ironic, since he's one of the few characters in the show not in need of redemption).

So isn't it fitting, then, that his death didn't happen in some grand display requiring all of Lucifer or Charlie's might? Isn't it fitting that Adam falls to Niffty—not Lucifer, not an overlord, but a common sinner, who sees him as nothing more than a foot soldier that needs to be eliminated, a pest as easily squashed as a roach? For someone as self-aggrandizing as Adam, this has to be one of the most humiliating ways to die. The perfect end for an insufferable antagonist.

But nooo, Vivziepop didn't end it there.

Because INSTEAD, we hear Lute's heart-wrenching screams as she realizes that Adam has just been defeated; we see the look on her tear-streaked face when it registers just how badly he's been injured. The fear in her eyes at the prospect of living in a world without the angel she idolizes, the man she serves.

She's not concerned that she's just lost her arm, or that Vaggie is standing right there. In that moment, the only person in Hell is Adam, and all she wants is for him to stay with her.

Adam could have easily dismissed her feelings entirely. He could have spent his last breath hurling one last insult at Lucifer, getting the satisfaction of having the last word before his death. He could have thrown himself a pity party and cursed his fate.

Instead, this greedy, selfish, murderous fiend has the audacity to see Lute in his field of vision and flash her one last, tender smile.

We don't know for sure what Adam was thinking in this shot, but personally, I think it was something along the lines of I lost. Proud of you, Lute. I'll miss you. Goodbye.

Whatever his final thoughts are, we can surmise from his expression alone that he's accepted his fate, and that he's grateful his last seconds alive are locking eyes with someone who's important to him. Someone he cares about.

And THAT—that was enough to crack through that thick shell of hatred I'd developed for Adam and shatter it like the mask he wore for seven and a half episodes of the show. THAT 8-second moment was enough to make me reconsider my stance on Adam as an irredeemable villain.

(CURSE YOU, VIVIENNE!!!)

Does this scene cancel out all the heinous things Adam does throughout Season 1? All the lives he destroys, all the pain he causes to thousands upon thousands of souls? Absolutely not. But it does change my perception of Adam from "obnoxious egomaniac with no self-awareness" to "obnoxious egomaniac with no self-awareness that is a product of the flawed system he perpetuates."

And, I gotta wonder, what would Adam have been like if Heaven had been different?

#hazbin hotel #hazbin #hazbin spoilers #hazbin hotel adam #hazbin adam #adam hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel lute #hazbin hotel charlie #hazbin hotel niffty #hazbin hotel theory #spirit musings #I had to do a character study of adam #that scene lives rent free in my mind #and now i'm kind of obsessed with adam despite how much he irked me #how dare you vivienne

[famwhy]

Judging Aunties

Spiderman: Across the Spiderverse

Hobie Brown X South Asian!F!Reader

Synopsis: you just wanted to enjoy a nice family gathering with your boyfriend but of course your very rude and judgy aunties had to say something because why would they ever let you be happy? Luckily for you, Hobie loved you too much to let them get in the way. (In other words, Hobie being such a comforting and supportive boyfriend.)

Warnings: minor panic attack (I think?) and there will be depictions of racism in this fic as I can't lie to you, lots of South Asian aunties are very judgy when you bring someone that isn't South Asian to a family meet. I do not condone it, nor do I excuse it. This fic is here to condemn it.

Note: I encourage you to read this even if you aren't South Asian as I'd love to share the experiences of south asians to those of you that don't know much. One of the huge, glaring issues is how judging older aunties can be if you decide to date a guy that isn't brown as well and I wanted to write this fic to highlight that issue. Of course, there are many delights about being south asian too but this fic is focusing on one issue. And dw, Hobie tells them to suck it. (Also, the reader is bengali specifically in this.)

The eyes. You could feel them, boring straight into your back—sending whatever voodoo evil-eye shit they could your way.

And all for what? 'Cause you had a boyfriend that looked different to them? Spoke differently and had different mannerisms? So fucking what? He loved you and you loved him, wasn't that enough?

"Ayo," you heard his voice faintly, and you felt guilty when you couldn't help but pay more attention to their gazes on you, "I'm gonna go grab us some'in to eat, yeah?"

You nodded but your eyes stayed cloudy, barely focusing on if he had left yet or not. Though, judging by the muttering voices that grew louder—he was gone and the aunties were approaching.

"Y/N, beti, was that your new... boyfriend?"

Ugh, her voice sounded like nails against a chalkboard to your ears. And—somehow—she made the usually nice-sounding accent that coated her tongue, seem god-awful.

"Yeah, what of it?" You crossed your arms, narrowing your eyes in her direction.

"Nothing... just... did it not work out with Rohan? I thought that boy was quite nice."

Here we go.

"No, fufu, Rohan didn't work out."

"That's a shame. He's training to be a doctor, you know—"

Is that so? I didn't know that after the hundreds of times you already told me, auntie.

"—a perfect marriage candidate."

"Mhm, good for him." You dismissed her with a light wave of your hand, barely managing to keep yourself from sinking your nails into her flesh right then and there.

Though, even your restrained actions were enough to cause her to narrow her own eyes at you. "Does your bhai know you're with... him?"

"He's the first person I told."

"He's the first person you told?"—and so the judging continues—"tor maa baaf khene khoysona foila?" ("why didn't you tell your mum and dad first?")

Your eye twitched. "They were also among the first I told."

"And they approved?"

The lion, the witch, and the audacity of this bitch.

"Why wouldn't they approve?"

"Well, you know—"

"There a problem, ladies?" Lo and behold, the person of interest had made his way back over to you, a plate of your mother's freshly baked samosas in one hand, his other hand resting by his side.

You lit up at his appearance, practically gliding over to him as your salwar kameez jingled with every step you took, emphasising your joy further as your arms looped around his neck and you rested your head against his chest.

His steady heartbeat was always comforting to listen to; always calmed your nerves.

"I can't lie, love, you're looking sweet in dat dress styll."

You giggled, feeling yourself turn into putty from just his one compliment. Even just his presence was enough to melt your bones and render you into an immovable pond of gooey mush, eyes practically turning into hearts as you endlessly swooned.

"And you are...?"

But, of course, all good things must come to an end.

"My name's Hobie, Hobie Brown." He held his hand out to her and when she merely looked at it with narrowed eyes, you could feel your grip tighten around his neck.

"Listen, my niece is very gentle—"

"Gen'le?" He interrupted her, incredulous. "This one? Are you mad?"

"Hobie!" You whined but buried your head into his chest to hide the growing smile on your lips that would give away your true feelings.

"What? It's a compliment, you're a mad ting, you know? Enough to make a big man stumble."

Another sickening, little school-girl giggle left your mouth and you could already envision your aunties scrunching their noses up in distaste at the blatant display of affection but—honestly?—you didn't give a fuck. You were in Hobie's arms and that was all that mattered.

"What is with all your... piercings? Are you in a gang?"

Okay, what did she just say?

You were fully ready to just snap at her but Hobie beat you to speaking first. "Nah, I don't do that gang shit."

"Fufu, I think you need to leave." You turned your head her way, grip tightening even further as your brows caved in tenfold; red, hot rage flowing through your veins.

You were about to pull away—give her a piece of your mind and forcefully make her leave—but, Hobie looped an arm around your waist and prevented you from creating any distance with him.

When you looked up to address him, however, you noticed how he wasn't looking at you—instead, he was staring right at your auntie, lips shaped into a straight line. "Just say you don't like me da'ing her 'cause I'm black, yeah?"

Woah.

Your auntie gritted her teeth, nostrils flaring as she fiercely huffed, raising one pointer finger his way in her rage as she parted her lips, ready to let out another one of her long, bitchy speeches.

But Hobie wasn't having it, and so, shut her right up when he turned his head back your way, tilting your chin and meeting your lips in a sudden—and extremely passionate—kiss.

Your eyes stayed open long enough for you to catch a glimpse of him raising his middle finger up and sending it right her way before you smirked and melted straight into him.

Despite the kiss being done to prove a point, it still didn't feel any less magical as every other kiss with him. Hobie was the only one who could ever make you feel this way—and you adored him for it, regardless of what some stuck-up auntie had to say.

When he finally pulled away (much to your dismay), he turned back over to your auntie, who stood there with her mouth hung open, and said, "do me a favour, yeah? Fuck off."

And soon, you were tugged off, away from the multiple pairs of eyes that belonged to all your other relatives in the room and towards another empty one instead.

Though, as Hobie led you over to the couch, you couldn't help but feel a wave of a certain strong emotion you felt when you brought your last non-brown lover over to a family gathering; a wave so strong, you had to voice it.

"I get it."

"Huh?"

"If you don't wanna be with me anymore—I get it. My aunties are really overbearing and South Asian culture is really, really unwelcome to other races so I—" a lump formed in your throat and you could barely finish uttering your sentence, unable to push past the stupid thing.

"Woah, woah, woah, what are you on about, love?" Hobie's voice sounded concerned but he was probably just trying to be sweet, he would leave you just like your past lover did—and all because of a dumb family gathering. God, how could you be so stupid? You shouldn't have taken him in the first place.

"It's just—" you choked up, vision blurring as your heart constricted and it got harder and harder to breathe.

"Woah, look at me, love. Look at me." His hands placed themselves on your shoulders as he levelled with you, making your nerves relax a little just by the sight of his face. "Breathe with me."

You followed the movement of his chest, breathing in rhythm with him until your vision cleared up and your words finally found you again.

"It's just that— my last boyfriend left me because of my aunties and— and— I don't want you to leave me too."

Please don't leave, I love you too much, Hobie.

"I would never leave you 'cause of some jarring prick that's part of your family. Ever."

You blinked. "Really? Not even 'cause I'm Desi?"

"What are you chatting 'bout? My guy Pav is Indian, you don't see me not bein' 'is mate 'cause of that."

He made a good point.

"Look, yeah, Y/N? I love you. No ma'er what. Never forget that."

And it was at that moment where you, Y/N L/N, found yourself falling in love with Hobie Brown all over again.

"I love you too, Hobie."

(Note: If I catch any comments that undermine this experience or call me racist for writing about this behaviour and calling it out, I will delete them and block the commenter. I take this very seriously and I hope you are mature enough to also do so. That's all, have a good day.)

#female reader #desi reader #south asian reader #hobie brown #hobie brown x reader #hobie x you #hobie x reader #hobie brown x you #spiderverse #spiderman atsv #spiderman across the spiderverse #spider punk #spider punk x reader #across the spiderverse #spider man: across the spider verse

[earthtooz]

fluff, enemies to lovers but rin's in love w u he's just an idiot, swearing, maybe ooc!rin?

out of all things to happen on a saturday evening, you weren't expecting itoshi rin to crash your date.

that’s exactly what happened when you arrived at the restaurant your supposed date had booked a reservation at. you were preempting to meet isagi’s friend from high school, not japan’s number one striker and the man who couldn’t resist giving you a migraine every day you saw him. he was dressed in a crisp suit with the inside shirt having a few buttons undone, (deliciously) paired with a very expensive-looking watch. you didn’t know whether to scream at him or run away.

well, not that you had the option for the latter anyways, because just when you were about to turn around, his gaze rose from his phone to lock directly with yours. a stare so icy that it froze you to the cement, cutting off your circulation, leaving you to feel a little lightheaded. 

the feeling worsens when he stalks over to you with unmatched confidence, unabashedly grabbing your hand to intertwine it with his as he all but pulls you towards the restaurant. not a word is able to leave your mouth. you don’t utter one syllable as rin confirms his booking and a waiter leads you to the reserved spot in the restaurant.

it’s a private room.

he booked a damn private room.

it’s awfully romantic too. there are lit candles, a beautiful flower arrangement on the table, and the intimacy of it all sharpened your nerves, filling your stomach with premonition. as rin guides you by the small of your back to sit down, you let out a small yelp of alarm, one that he dismisses whilst pulling out your chair for you. already one second in and you were embarrassing yourself.

the strangest part was how quiet rin was. he always preferred to keep to himself but when it came to ridiculing you, the striker just couldn’t resist spilling out a few insulting quips; just one or two thousand here and there. you almost believed that agitating you was his second favourite activity, after soccer of course. 

so the rin that sat in front of you felt like a complete stranger. despite having seen him daily for majority of the past year, fixing any injuries he got whilst out in the field, and suffering many back-and-forths whilst doing so, it was odd to see him so… complacent? not hostile? nervous?

no. itoshi rin never got nervous. 

“hi,” he begins awkwardly. the fire on the candle wavers a little. 

finally, after minutes of speechlessness, you find it in you to speak. 

“what the fuck?” the dark-haired’s expression scrunches a little, his eyes dodging yours. “what’s the meaning of this? why are you here? i’m so confused!”

“i uh-” he coughs, raising his hand to rub the back of his neck, the action folding his shirt ever so slightly to reveal more of the skin that laid under. you try not to ogle. “we’re on a date.”

“no we’re not?” you counter, absolutely astounded at his audacity. “i’m not supposed to be on a date with you! i’m supposed to be on a date with isagi’s friend!”

his eyes widen a little at your outburst. your intense confusion merges to become fury that seeps out of you so effortlessly, painting the room with suffocating tension and pressure. something tells you that this anger has been waiting to make itself known for a while now, pent up from months of frustration.

“i came here because i wanted a nice night out, not for more of your taunts and mockery! don’t you get enough of it during the day? are you trying to make fun of my love life or something? i was really looking forward to this night, y’know, especially with everything isagi was telling me about the guy i was supposed to go out with,” you cover your face with your hands, admitting defeat. itoshi rin got you, once again. 

rin suppresses the jealousy bubbling in his chest, his insides twisting into an ugly shape of bitterness at the image of you with another man, washing over him like fresh lava from a volcanic eruption. 

“can you say something?” you demand, inwardly cursing yourself for the way your voice wavers; an indication of how frazzled and distraught you were feeling.

“you look beautiful.”

“oh.”

that was not what you were expecting.

suddenly the rage you felt mere seconds ago dissipated into a small cloud of flattered bliss, causing you to sink in your chair and cower from his intense gaze. was it always this hot in here or was it just you?

in the midst of your mini-tantrum, you did not notice how rin’s eyes were glossed with fascination, marvelling at you as if you were the most wonderful thing in the world. it reminded you of a kid in a candy store. he was… adorable, to say the least.

“th-thanks,” you stutter, murmuring out the only phrase you could instinctively think of in the haze of your clouded mind. “look- how, or, why are you here?”

the dark-haired shuffles in his seat, readjusting himself to fit the ‘cool guy’ persona he’s worked so hard to maintain. “i’m here because i’m a better date than isagi’s lukewarm friend.” 

“rin, that doesn’t make any sense,” you huff. “you hate my guts-”

“-no i don’t,” he says hurriedly and in a tone that takes you off guard. there is a sense of urgency behind it, so unlike anything you’ve believed to be characteristic for rin’s stoic and unbreaking personality. he looks away to the side, clearing his throat. “i don’t hate you. it’s kind of the opposite.”

you feel like itoshi rin just slapped you across the face. was this some kind of sick prank? where were the cameras? maybe there was one behind the painting- fuck, there could’ve been one in your drink for all you know. then you realise, out of all things you could describe itoshi rin with, a prankster was not one of them, meaning, that this life-changing detail that he just provided you was authentic and real. 

what a cruel twist of fate this saturday has bestowed upon you. 

“what?” you sputter, “but- but you, what?” 

“is that so hard to believe?”

“yes! i thought you absolutely despised me! you look at me with so much disgust and indifference!”

“that’s just my face,” he deadpans. you sigh, unceremoniously placing your face in your hands. rin leans forward in his seat, hands reaching to rest in the middle of the table, just a few centimetres away from yours. the itch to grab your hands in his is overwhelming but he holds himself back. “i’m not indifferent towards you. i actually… really like your company and getting to know you.”

“is it rude to say that i find that hard to believe?” you cower slightly from the seriousness of his ‘really?’ look. “this entire time i thought the last thing you wanted to do was be around me!”

"i do want you- i've never not wanted you.”

a swarm of butterflies erupt in your core, fluttering all the way up to your heart, threatening to carry it out of your chest and elevate it to fall into the hands of itoshi rin. the effect this man has on you is sickening. 

“i see,” you pathetically mutter. 

rin looks akin to a kicked dog at your simple answer to his confession, his shoulders sagging a little as his hands retract from yours. his expression dampens, ever so slightly. 

“should we have a do over, then?” 

a smile that you’ve never seen rin wear before appears on his expression, brightening up his demeanour as he stammers out a quietly enthusiastic ‘yes’. 

the night ends with you walking out of the restaurant with rin’s jacket draped over your shoulders and the promise of a second date.

#if anyone's wondering: rin only got the date bc he threatened isagi and made him call his friend to call it off #itoshi rin x reader #rin x reader #rin itoshi x reader #blue lock x reader #bllk x reader #itoshi rin fluff #blue lock fluff #itoshi rin x you #rin x you #rin itoshi x you #blue lock rin #itoshi x reader #blue lock itoshi rin #rin fluff #itoshi rin drabble

[sailorkamino]

fights and hugs (crosshair's pov)

wildflower masterlist

relationship: twi'lek!jedi!reader x crosshair [gn, can be platonic or romantic]

summary: everyone thinks you're perfect but crosshair knows the truth - you're annoying, manipulative, and stupidly optimistic. so why does he get so protective when a creep harasses you?

word count: 1.8k

warnings: cross thinks kindness = emotional manipulation, jealousy, sexualization/verbal harassment, slavery, creep gets punched, protective cross, clones not having rights/unfair justice system, separation anxiety, soft cross, he's like a feral cat that secretly wants to be a house cat

ryl translations: chi'kan- pervert, keela- darling

a/n: i think i wrote cross like wednesday addams lmao

Crosshair thinks you’re the most frustrating person he’s ever met. And he can’t even do anything about it. He might be a prickly bastard but he’s also a soldier and you’re his commanding officer. He can’t just pick a fight with you. Especially since you never take the fucking bait.

He gives you the bare minimum amount of respect required. He follows your orders on missions (they’re actually pretty smart but he’ll die before he admits that.) He calls you general or sir. He doesn’t outright insult you. But he certainly doesn’t worship you like his brothers.

They think you’re an angel. What makes you so special? You make Wrecker laugh obnoxiously loud. You encourage Tech’s messy collecting hobby. You play with Hunter's hair until he’s purring like a tooka. It’s pathetic. You’re probably using jedi mind tricks on them. The truth is you’re a manipulative little shit and if it didn’t make Crosshair so angry he might be impressed.

What he really hates is that satisfied look on your face when he does what you want. Like when he plays a stupid dancing game just to prove to you that he can do it better than Wrecker. Or smiling at him proudly when he doesn’t shoot a reg.

Then you have the audacity to compliment him? Disgusting. So why does he crave it? Why does he get annoyed when you praise his brothers instead of him.

One day you give him a piece of dark fabric. “You wear it to block out light when you sleep,” you explain with a bright smile. The cool material is like his blacks but softer. He can’t help but run his fingers along it. He mutters a thanks and quickly leaves.

That night he uses the sleep mask and to his horror likes it. Now he’s in debt to you. But he doesn’t have any credits. Fucking great. Why do you have to make his life so difficult?

Luckily he finds a gift for you within the next few days. After a mission he notices a rock that got caught in an explosion. It’s been cracked in half, exposing the crystalized insides. Jedi like crystals right? He grabs it and drops it in his pack.

Of course you make a big fuss when he awkwardly gives it to you. You almost hug him but don’t, thank the force. He doesn’t feel dissapointed at all. You show the rock to his brothers proudly. His face burns when they send him questioning looks. “Easily impressed,” he scoffs dismissively. Although secretly he’s proud of himself.

He’s having a sleepless night on some forgettable outer rim planet when you knock on his cabin door. He knows it’s you because his brothers would have barged in. “Hey Crosshair, wanna get some snacks? I’m paying,” you offer. You shake a satchel draped across your body, making the credits inside clank together.

He wonders if Hunter (who’s currently on watch) put you up to this, why else would you seek out his company? It's obvious you prefer his brothers anyways. Not that he cares. The thought of you being coerced into this makes his hackles rise, he doesn't need your pity, but then he imagines telling Wrecker’s that you got him nat born food tomorrow. That will be entertaining. He sharply agrees and puts on his boots.

He glances down at his GAR issued loungewear. He doesn’t know if they’re appropriate for a nat born store or wherever you’re taking him but you’re wearing sleep clothes too so good enough. You're swaddled in an oversized robe to be exact. How childish. Not at all endearing

As you exit the ship your eyes reflect in the dark just like his. That’s another annoyance. Enhanced eyesight used to be his thing. You began humming a tune under your breath. Crosshair almost says something but the sound isn’t too horrible so he lets you continue.

Within a few minutes you're at the store. He's instantly overwhelmed by the bright lights and endless options, who needs so many flavors of the same thing? He doesn’t know what any of this is but he doesn’t want to admit that so he begins recon. He grabs a crinkly bag that appears to be some kind of a cracker to inspect it.

That’s when Crosshair notices a stumbling man leering at you. He’s caught off guard by the sudden flash of protective anger he feels. Why is he so concerned? If you can handle yourself on a battlefield, you can handle one pathetic human. Your body language is the opposite of your usual demanor when talking to civilians. You’re usually very open and engaging, easily forming a connection with them. Not now.

Crosshair has seen you face hoards of battle droids with a smile. He’s seen you meditate while being shot at. He’s seen you make fun of General Grievous while fending off four sabers. But now you look shaken. Your colorful skin has paled, eyes wide in a mix of shock and horror. You suddenly look so young and so frightened.

He's beside you in a second. He tries to ignore the relief in your eyes, the way you subtly lean closer to him. It makes his chest feel odd.

“You their master?”

He sneers. Does he look like a jedi master? You go completely rigid beside him. That catches the clone off guard. You know how to keep a straight face. You’re not only a stupidly brave fighter, you’re a damn good negotiator. What could have possibly upset – then it hits him. This man was referring to a different kind of master.

You quickly recover, slipping into an emotionless jedi facade you rarely use. Crosshair’s jaw clenches so hard his toothpick snaps in half. He spits the broken pieces towards the man’s feet. “I belong to no one. The galaxy is much bigger than your prejudices,” you state evenly but there’s a fire in your eyes. “My friend and I are leaving now.”

Then the creep, who’s either stupud or plain suicidal, scoffs angrily. “You think you’re better than me? Tail head whore.”

The sniper sees fucking red. How dare this piece of shit demean his jedi? His self sacrificing, too nice, pain in the ass jedi. Only Crosshair is allowed to make your life difficult. The way the stranger judges you reminds him of every kaminoan that looked down on his brothers and his free hand is swinging.

The drunk is sent staggering to the ground, giving Crosshair a grim satisfaction. Before either man can recover your fingers wrap around the sniper's wrist to hold him in place as you bend down. “You want to go home and rethink your life choices," you instruct melodically, waving a hand in his face.

“I want to go home and rethink my life choices,” he repeats blankly.

You make quick work of charming the concerned worker, assuring that no police presence is necessary. Then you turn to Crosshair and in that fake calm voice he hates suggests he get a drink for his chips. For once in his life he follows instructions without complaint, watching you closely as you pay for your snacks. Your moves are less graceful and much more droid-like than usual.

Once you get outside you shakily sigh. He holds back an eyeroll. He’s lived with Hunter long enough to know when he’s going to get scolded. “You shouldn’t have done that, Crosshair. I was about to mind trick him.”

He stares at the ground with a tight jaw. He doesn’t know why he defended you when you didn't need it. He saw a creep harassing the only nat born who’s ever been kind to him and he just snapped. He’s still angry, honestly. Why aren’t you? “He deserved it.”

“Perhaps. But clones don’t have rights, you can’t just go around assaulting civilians. Even if it’s self defense you’re going to be painted as the aggressor.”

But Crosshair is only half listening. He's more focused on your unsteady hands. “You're shaking."

“Are you even listening to me? This is serious.”

He suddenly seizes your free wrist, mirroring your actions in the store. "So is this.”

You look like you want to argue for a moment then you slump in defeat. “I’m just… overwhelmed.”

Crosshair has experience with overwhelmed siblings. Hunter like space, Wrecker likes affection, Tech likes a listening ear. "What do you need?” He asks, surprisingly gentle.

This seems to be your boiling over point as you gesture wildly, swinging the bag in your hand. “I need sleep. I need to meditate. I need my master.” Your glowing eyes widen at your own outburst. The frustration morphs to sadness. “I guess I’m a little homesick. I thought spending time with you would be a good distraction but that chi’kan ruined it.”

This should be the point where he drops the subject. You already said what’s wrong and it’s not his responsibility to make you happy. But a voice that sounds suspiciously like Hunter points out that if the roles were reversed, you wouldn’t leave him to suffer.

He thinks back to the cadet days, when it was just him and his brothers against the world. He remembers the overwhelming anger when a reg hurt one of them. He was never good at comforting, he was good at revenge. But he can’t fight your emotions. And he already punched the chi’kan (he’ll have to find out what that means later.)

There’s only one option left. Out of his brothers you remind him of Wrecker the most and Wrecker likes physical reassurance when he’s upset. He awkwardly opens his arms and bites the blaster bolt. “Do you want a hug?”

“... What?”

“I’m not saying it again.”

Then you’re flying against him. Crosshair almost falls into the grass as you smash your face into his neck, fists balling into his sleep shirt. You’re warm and solid and your touch isn’t completely revolting. He slowly relaxes as he winds a long arm around you.

Crosshair will never admit it but he can understand your separation anxiety. As the sniper it’s his job to watch his brother’s backs. The instinct to protect is so engraved in Crosshair he needs to be near his siblings or know where they are at all times. Maybe that’s why he defended you tonight. He’s starting to accept you as part of the squad.

“Blossom?” He mutters, thumb absently stroking your lower back.

“Yeah, Cross?”

“If you tell anyone about this I’ll shoot you.”

You snort against the crook of his neck. "Whatever you say, keela."

#the bad batch #bad batch #tbb #tbb crosshair #tbb crosshair x reader #bad batch x reader #clone trooper crosshair #clones x reader #crosshair x you #crosshair tbb #crosshair bad batch #star wars #clone wars #crosshair x reader #crosshair #clone force 99 #clones x jedi!reader

[floshav]

I hate you.

but can i make it up to you for one night?

Rodrick heffley x fem!reader

words: 7k+

𝙬𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨: 𝙨𝙚𝙡𝙛 𝙞𝙣𝙙𝙪𝙡𝙜𝙚𝙣𝙩, 𝙨𝙚𝙡𝙛 𝙝𝙖𝙧𝙢, 𝙚𝙫𝙚𝙣𝙩𝙪𝙖𝙡 𝙨𝙢𝙪𝙩, 𝙗𝙪𝙡𝙡𝙮𝙞𝙣𝙜, 𝙠𝙞𝙨𝙨𝙞𝙣𝙜, 𝙫𝙚𝙧𝙮 𝙝𝙤𝙩 𝙚𝙮𝙚𝙡𝙞𝙣𝙚𝙧 𝙗𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙠𝙞𝙙 𝙍𝙤𝙙𝙧𝙞𝙘𝙠 ;), 𝙖𝙣𝙜𝙨𝙩𝙮, 𝙍𝙤𝙙𝙧𝙞𝙘𝙠 𝙗𝙚𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙖𝙣 𝙖𝙗𝙨𝙤𝙡𝙪𝙩𝙚 𝙙𝙞𝙘𝙠, 𝙨𝙤𝙢𝙚 𝙣𝙤𝙣 𝙘𝙤𝙣𝙨𝙚𝙣𝙨𝙪𝙖𝙡 𝙨𝙘𝙚𝙣𝙚𝙨, boys with nail polish, fingering, descriptiveness of smut kinda, dom rod, virgin! fem reader

summary: Rodrick always seems to get on y/n's nerves and it drives her wild. From the amount of restless nights he's granted her to shaming her in public constantly. What happens when the guilt overwhelms him and he decides to show her how sorry he can be. Just for one night.

Rodrick was a total dick to y/n. Sadly she knew it was a way for him to cope with himself after he'd been bullied out of his mind ever since stepping into crosslands high.

The constant alley way fights he'd find himself in, the constant teasing and shoving he'd received just because he was different. It all amounted to his attitude now. Back to y/n, let it be the small things he'd do to piss her off, or the really major things which would set her crying in the bathroom stall for a week straight, it secretely and shittily made him feel less alone. How'd their relationship even come to this? It'd all been fine right until 8th grade when Rodrick was still her friend. Now they were in senior year and Rodrick had still stuck to being an absolute dickhead.

"Hey snotface." Rodrick called out as y/n began to stuff her locker with books and scrapped papers preparing for dismissal. Shoving a band audition flyer in her folder along the way. The sounds of students clamouring about in the background, anticipating the bell.

No response

"Oh y/nnnnn!" Rodrick called as she slammed her locker shut, eyeing him with pure violence in the process.

"The hell you want shitstain." Y/n said as she began to place the remaining books in her bag removing her attention from him.

He cleared his throat "Was just wondering if you could help me with the science project Mrs Burke gave us." He hesitated as he began following y/n who was now making her way out his sight. "I don't really understand what she meant by sticking the circles where the electrons-"

The audacity

"Of course you don't. You never pay attention in class." Y/n scoffed as she began walking out the school compound just as the bell rang. Everyone else doing the same, the sound of skateboards and fast feet prominent on the rough pavement.

"Yea that's the thing i-"

"What makes you think i'd help you?" Y/n finally said turning around in her sneakers, making them squeekkk in the process to face him, she was really testing the waters this time getting fed up with his attitude.

"Because i said so idiot." Rodrick said with that familiar intimidating voice he'd put on around her.

"Shut the fuck up" Y/n said with a blank face not thinking much about the words she had just put out, tretching further into the waters.

"The fuck you say to me?" Rodrick said with a stupid menacing grin plastered on his face making a tight knot of nervousness tie itself in her stomach.

"I-i, Rodrick." She sighed carefully "All you've done was be a dick to me! I've honestly had enough of your shit and you've really fucking changed is all I have to say." Y/n said as she felt that all familiar feeling of heaviness succumb her eyes.

Before she could run away he shoved her against a wall hands on either side of her shoulders looking her dead into her eyes, so close each freckle and fine line was visible, his hot breath tickled her lips.

"You act up one more time and you'll see what you fucking get."

"That clear?" Rodrick said with wide eyes whilst still holding her up helplessly.

Some students eyed the situation, too scared to do anything because it was Rodrick they were talking about.

"Fuck you." She whispered under her breath eyes already adorned with tears threatening to spill as Rodrick let her go.

She ran away as fast as she could feeling the shittiest she could ever feel.

--------------------------------------------------

The past

It all started in 7th grade. Rodrick had just changed middle schools to crosslands high and it was there he met y/n. She'd been just the same as him, a stupid emo kid who listened to too much rock. Lonely with no friends, outcasted by the school, depressed as one would be. They'd bonded over their favourite bands at the moment like radiohead or blur, and rodrick found it refreshing to talk to someone who liked the same things as him. Surprisingly, he'd been made fun of a lot for being in a band or wearing eyeliner or even just wearing a silly graphic tee or band shirt which y/n found cute most the time. The bullying had only gotten worse as time passed, some nights the only thing keeping him sane was the late night phone calls he'd have with y/n. Unbeknownst to him y/n didn't nearly get as much backlash as he did and that made him angry, confused and jealous. She was just like him so why was he receiving the shitty end of the stick.

This stirred Rodricks desire for payback to a non existent threat y/n had proposed. So Rodrick acted on his intrusive thoughts. Occasionally he'd purposely say something y/n said to him publicly exaggerating and manipulating the words she uttered making students giggle or yell insults or mocks to her in the halls. Like this one time she'd just told him she had an upset stomach and that was why she was late, yet he exagerrated her words saying things like "Oh! You had diarrhea this morning?" "That's really embarassing that you shat your pants." This gave y/n the nickname shitty asshole for the past few years and it only stopped when they entered senior year. Everyone around them suddenly maturing.

Sometimes the things Rodrick did weren't so light. Like the time he shoved her against the lockers picking her up by the collar just because she'd joked about him not getting any pussy, and that was what officially made y/n scared of her own best friend as this cycle would continue to repeat.

The Rodrick cycle. One that now affected y/n. The amount of nights she'd spent picking up the metal blade for hating herself so much. The amount of times she'd looked into the mirror feeling shit and ugly. The amount of times she'd wish she wasn't born in her own skin was to a disgusting point. At that moment she wished she'd never ever met Rodrick. To think that she'd even started to develop feelings for him at one point. What a foolish decision.

Things decided to get better when stuff like bands or boys wearing eyeliner and being emo became a trend again. Shitty for them both y/n thought to herself. Atleast Rodrick was finally getting bitches and bothering her less. That is until him dating pretty little Heather Hills, (someone that would otherwise make fun of him) bothered her out of her mind indirectly. However as one would expect, they broke it off pretty quick.

----------------------------------------

present day

She sat alone in her room at her desk looking at a razor blade she was so familiar with. She hesitated before slowly picking it up, tears welding in her eyes as she slowly brought the sharp material to her soft skin. The thoughts of what Rodrick did encouraging her more. She slowly poked her skin dragging it down making each press harder until beads of blood formed, threatening to spill down. How long before she'd stop. She didn't know.

Suddenly a light tapping sound came from her window. She got spooked before quickly setting her razor aside for later, wiping the fresh beads of blood away with the sleeve of her dark sweater.

As she slowly approached her curtain covered window she heard another tap followed by another.

She took a deep breath before swiftly peeking through the sheer material.

It took a while to realise who or what it was, but the result was infuriating.

"Are you serious?" She uttered under her breath as she noticed the figure was in fact Rodrick.

She annoyingly opened her window with a bored expression hissing at the goosebumps that braced her skin from the cold air.

"Hey" Rodrick called out awkwardly with what looked like a packet of cigarettes in his hands, fidgeting with it.

Y/n rolled her eyes lightly before gesturing for him to come in.

"God could you be any louder?" Y/n whisper yelled whilst looking down on him as he attempted to tretch through the crispy grass, both hands at either side of her face.

"Yea wanna see me try-"

"No."

Rodrick made his way to the treehouse that sat conveniently beside her bedroom window, struggling due to having a couple of things in his hands.

"The hell are you doing here shitstain."

"What? Is it wrong to visit you like old times?" rodrick said with fake innocence a stupid smirk forming slowly.

"Ha ha" "Old times." Y/n sighed before making her way to her arm chair.

She sat cross legged with an annoyed expression waiting to hear Rodrick's reasoning.

"I'm sorry bout earlier."

"You do this every night Rodrick."

"Oh c'mon-"

"Don't 'oh c'mon' me Rodrick. You were and still are an absolute asshat for what? 2 years now? i cant even keep track!" Y/n said with a deep underlaying sadness threatening to be revealed before her made up persona of not caring.

"Y/n.."

"You hurt me Rodrick." "You hurt me every single day."

"To think I really- To think I really really loved you as a friend." She said whilst her eyes began to form a layer of shine.

It was then on that her sleeves began to slip down without her knowledge as she expressed herself. The material revealing her soft skin grazed by a myriad of small slits and cuts ranging from old to fresh. Her arms told a story no other could tell.

"Y/n." "Y/n have you been cutting again?" Rodrick said with a sternness that was unrecognisable to her. One that she only knew years ago.

"Fuck." "Im so sorry" Rodrick said with what seemed to be genuine care.

He quickly kneeled down in front of her, lean hands embracing her arms.

"S-stop. I." "I never intended for it to get bad again." "I-it just happened." Y/n admitted already feeling defeated and tired.

"Y/n, shit. I-i am so so sorry I made you feel this bad." Rodrick said as he searched her eyes looking for something, possibly a glint of forgiveness which he hoped she still had.

He now slowly caressed her arms, y/n on the floor at this point staring into his eyes, tears threatening to spill. She noticed the little things about Rodrick now that the room was quiet and it seemed to be just the two of them in this whole universe. Like how he hadn't taken off his smudged eyeliner yet, or how his face adorned new freckles now that she hadn't seen him after some time. She couldn't lie about how much she adored him, but she hated him too. To a gut wrenching degree.

"Can we just move past this?" Y/n said as a tear slipped away.

Rodrick slowly wiped the tear away with his thumb, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear.

He had done his best to comfort her, wrapping his arms around her whilst whispering praises in her ear because he knew she liked that.

The thing was, he always did this. Every night in which he'd hurt her in the day, he'd try to find forgiveness in the night apologising emptily.

"Where're the blades." Rodrick asked seriously, looking into her eyes.

"d'know."

"Give them to me."

Rodrick said before standing up to search for the cause of her self harm. He looked everywhere, on her table that was covered in an organised mess, her shelves which adorned her old guitar picks and photos of her and her friends, her drawers in which one had stored her shorts and underwear. He searched everywhere until he finally found them chucked away behind a plush toy sat on her bookcase.

"Found em'" Rodrick said as if he achieved the greatest thing.

"Rodrick you dont have to take them, their stained and grimey"

"I dont care honestly." Rodrick said before plopping back down to where y/n sat.

The room was now silent, Rodrick still caressing her arm slowly.

"When are you going to stop?" Y/n asked unable to make eye contact, already nervous and anxious.

"I-" "I d'know." Rodrick sighed as he began to open the pack of used cigarettes he had in his back pocket. Offering one to y/n which she took gladly.

"You dont have to be mean to me to seem all tough y'know" Y/n said as she gazed at the ground, cigg lying lazzily in her index and middle finger.

"Fuck" "Yea i-i. I know that. Its just sometimes these thoughts.. These shitty thoughts take over my mind and its like I cant control my body's reaction to them." He sighed as he lit his cigarette up taking a long whiff in the process.

Y/n knew exactly what he meant.

"Y-yea. I understand." "Just, when its about hurting others.. you really gotta hold back on those thoughts Rodrick."

Unknown to him, his stomach slightly fluttered at the use of his name under her tounge.

He exhaled another puff of smoke before examining her face carefully for the first time in a while. She looked pretty all of a sudden. The way her hair was slightly messy, leftover mascara staining her bottom lashes, lips and eyes slightly blown out from crying earlier. The sight made him swallow thick.

"So.." y/n said stretching the o. "How's your life been?" She surprisingly asked.

Rodrick slowly flashed a wide grin at her making her stomach flutter stupidly at how good he looked smiling like that.

"Why'd you care all of a sudden?" Rodrick said still grinning giddily as he took another whiff blowing the smoke away from her face. The small gesture making her smile small to herself.

"D'know.. Just curious. We haven't had a chat about anything other than depressing shit nowadays anyway." She sighed as she began to light her own cigarette.

"Well.." "Heather's been sending me mixed signals again." Rodrick sighed

Heather. Y/n thought to herself. Wasn't she a thing of the past?

"Ah..." "Still hung up on the bitch?"

Rodrick quirked his eyebrow at the choice of her words, a slow and snarky smirk forming in the process.

"Jealous?"

"What the hell, no."

"W-what makes you think i'd be jealous of a stupid no lifer anyway." Y/n said hysterically and a lil too loudly as she took another deeper whiff out her cigarette trying to drown the pain away.

"Hm" Rodrick said as he sucked his cheek in looking to the side of her room.

"Damn, you got the In rainbows record?"

Y/n smiled knowing that was something they'd have in common.

"Yea, signed by thom"

"Wait, shit really?"

"Nah im just fucking with ya" Y/n barked out a laugh in which Rodrick shot back an eyeroll

"So.... Heather huh." "You still.. into her?" She asked hessitantly.

"D'know honestly."

What y/n wanted to say was, Im better for you than she ever could be. She's just a stupid mean girl who prances around thinking she could fuck any boy she glanced at and they'd be at her mercy. She doesn't even like the things you do. She'd never understand you the way I do. But of course, she never said those things.

"Ah"

"Why, hm?" Rodrick said amused but then something just clicked in his little brain.

"Oh, shit...." Rodrick said teasingly with a huge grin as he began to lean closer towards her.

"Is... Is y/n jealous?" He rasped so close to her, each decibel of his voice could be heard.

"What! No. Thats crazy!" She laughed nervously as she broke eye contact, quickly leaning back.

"Yea right." Rodrick teased on.

"So.. You wouldn't mind me calling up Heather right now then? Telling her how much i've been thinking of her."

Y/n's stomach dropped at the use of his words, feeling that overwhelming darkness overwash her.

"Y-yea, 'course I wouldn't mind." She lied through her teeth.

"Okay."

Rodrick pulled his phone out his pocket searching for y/n's reaction in the process. Eyes locked as he smoothly dialled in what she assumed was Heather's number.

The line rang as Rodrick smirked to himself, already knowing what the contortment of y/n's face meant. She was clearly bothered.

Why the hell is he doing this to me. He knows. So why. Why be such a dick about it. Y/n silently cursed in her mind.

The line stopped ringing, not because of the receiver hanging up, but because of the inevitable. Heather picked up the phone.

"Oh hey Rodrick!" The soft velvety smoothness of her voice shined through juxtaposing y/n's rough boyish rasp.

"Hey Heather, what're you up to?" Rodrick's voice sounded unrecognisable, somehow.. sexy?

"Mmm, nothing much." Y/n could hear the clear hessitation in her voice through the phone. "W-would you maybe wanna come over?"

Rodrick licked his lips looking at y/n's face. Satisfied with the reaction he'd gotten.

"Hm, maybe another time sweets. M'a bit busy at the moment."

"A-ah thats a shame. Wanted to try something new w'you."

Something new?

The line went dead.

"Totally not jealous." Rodrick smirked tucking away his phone diverting his attention fully on her.

"Do'ya have a cute little fling with her or what." "Do i need to remind you of the time she broke your heart?" Y/n blurted out, surprised at her own bluntness.

"Jeez calm down y/n." Rodrick said smirk slightly fading, but still tugging on amusement.

"Look for your own comfort, me and Heather dont have anything going on." pause "She's just an idiot sometimes." Rodrick tried to clarify taking another whiff out his cigarette as if he was trying to calm his nerves.

"Ok. Didnt ask though." Y/n said now in a curled up fashion, hair in her eyes taking another whiff out her cig.

Damn. Rodrick thought.

"Its getting late Rodrick. Think y'should start heading home"

The time was only 9pm but y/n couldn't bare seeing him anymore.

"W-" he stopped "Okay then. See you when i see you i guess" Rodrick said having something clearly bothering him.

She watched as he made his way to her open window which let cool breezy air leak in as her curtains swayed in the drafts. Before she knew it he was gone.

"Bye." Y/n said more to herself than anything seeing as no one was there.

She cursed herself to no end that night. Why was she so easily jealous.

--------------------------------------------------------------------

She hadn't gotten any sleep and it was the next day. It was way too early to be seeing Rodrick propped up next to her locker, and he was looking a little better than usual. Ugh. His hair was a mess as if he just woke up, the leftover eyeliner she'd seen him have on last night still smudged beneath the pads of his undereyes and a black jacket draped over a "the cure" shirt. He screamed junkie, yet why was he still so damn attractive.

He turned his head eyebrows raising with a bored expression as y/n approached her locker.

"Hey"

"Yea?"

"Is it wrong to wanna see your face in the morning? Gotta have something to jumpscare me into the day somehow" He smirked before turning his eyes fully onto her.

Y/n faked a scared expression as she looked him in the eyes. "Oh shit!"

"Oh.. sorry was just a little scared by your inability to apply eye makeup."

Rodrick put both his hands to his heart in a fake hurt expression.

"You take that back young lady!"

"Nope. What you gonna do about it?" She said as she slammed her locker shut looking him in the eyes, books for the day in hand.

He was in a relaxed position now, arm propped up against the locker so close to y/n's face that it genuinely gave her a little scare, feeling goosebumps scatter her body.

"You dont wanna find out" Rodrick trailed off and she swears he looks down at her lips for a second. Maybe she was seeing things. Yea definitely seeing things. Or maybe....

"Hey rodrick!" The chirpy voice of Heather called.

"Oh hey heather" Rodrick was now turned and his attention was fully on heather. Atleast thats what y/n thinks.

The thing is, Rodrick is aware. He's aware of the effect he has on her and what it does to y/n when he talks to Heather, so he continues to talk because thats who he is. A dick who likes to tease.

"About last night.."

"Go on"

"Was wondering if you'd maybe like to drop by today?"

Y/n's blood boils and she hates it. Why does she even care? Its not like Rodrick owes her anything or something.

"Hm"

"I mean its totally fine if you don-"

"No yea ill stop by" Rodrick cuts her off with a smirk. The smirk which y/n thought was meant for her and her only.

"Oh cool! See you after school then" Heather said clearly giddy and blushful as she skipped on by.

"So i guess this non existent thing between you and Heather is clearly .. existent huh?" Y/n said with a tired look.

"Nah Heathers not really my type."

"Then what is your type."

Girls who would rather stay at home all day reading a book or playing their favourite instrument than going out and getting black out wasted at a party. A girl who has a lopsided smile everytime she talks about something she likes. A girl who sloppily applies her mascara every morning in hopes it helps her slug through the day better. You. was what Rodrick thought.

"D'know honestly, probably not you is all" Rodrick grinned before nudging her shoulder and walking away.

Absolute dick.

--------------------------------------------------

The warm evening light that shone through her room was a tell tale sign that she'd been thinking about Rodrick way too much ever since she got home and it was still bright out. She found herself thinking about the interaction she had with Rodrick this morning. The way she really thought he looked down at her lips. Why her lips? And why after that sentence. She'd analyzed her perfect envisionment of the memory so much to the point she'd remembered every little slur and lisp Rodrick had produced during the convo. Maybe she was overthinking it. No she definitely was overthinking it.

Clink

She whipped her head up to look at her window hearing the all so familiar sound of small pebbles hitting her window, it'd been a miracle the window hadn't shattered yet.

Clink

She rolled her eyes and got up reluctantly.

She placed both her hands on either side of the window sill, taking a deep breath before looking down. There he was, looking up at her like he always did with a pack of ciggarettes in his hands.

"Can i come in?" He mouthed

I mean what else would she do? The answer was clear.

But she played with him anyway. "No" She mouthed shaking her head as he began to make his way up the ladder of her treehouse.

-----------------------------------------------

How he'd ended up in her bed next to her talking about life was quite weird to her. It all began when she took a cig like usual, but this time she felt especially giggly and happy by the drug as she offered to paint his fingernails. Each one of them a different shade of green because she found that funny somehow.

Now Rodrick was layed on her belly, relaxed as he waited for his nails to dry.

"Thought you were gonna hang with Heather today." Y/n breathed out slowly careful with her movements as Rodricks head followed her breaths.

"Decided not to." "Why? Y'dont want me here?"

"N-No! Its just that... i dont understand why you still come back to me even though you say you hate me."

Y/n's breaths quicken as anxiety washes over her realising what she'd said.

"Dont hate you." Rodrick sighed as he checked out his nails.

"Oh"

"Im sorry i make you feel like it sometimes." Rodrick said as he looked up into her eyes now making his way to rest his head beside hers careful with his nails.

"Its okay i guess." Y/n hates herself for always giving in so easily to him. So quick and understanding when he clearly doesn't deserve her sincerity.

As if her fingers were on autopilot she brushes her delicate digits through the locks of his rough messy hair, brushing some strands out his eyes and this makes Rodricks skin turn hot, the dazed lazy look in her eyes not helping his case.

You dont know what you do to me. Rodrick thought to himself before flipping over, now facing the ceiling and not her so that he could stop his dangerous thoughts before it got too far. This makes y/n feel funny. Why did he turn over? Does he not like me fluffing his hair about. Fuck its weird to do anyway, he's your friend for god's sake. Nothing more. So she turns back over to immitate Rodrick's actions.

Except, Rodrick can't hold his thoughts in anymore.

"You're really pretty you know that- Dont think people tell you it enough." Rodrick sighed now red in the face, fingers fidgety but careful with the polish.

This takes y/n off gaurd.

"Wh- Ah thank you?" She says and Rodrick knows she's smiling because she has that voice on.

"Why're you being so nice?" Y/n inquires and this makes Rodrick sad. Has he really hurt that much? That even a simple compliment bewilders her.

"m'sorry" He mutters under his breath along with a few curses to himself now sitting up right.

"Rodrick?" Y/n asks before copying his position once more.

"Shit. Yea m'sorry Y/n." He says and y/n notices the impossible. Is Rodrick tearing up?

"Gotta go" He mumbles before dashing for the window leaving y/n red faced and confused both hands plopped to her sides helplessly as he takes for the window.

-----------------------------------------------------

At the heffley residence.

Rodrick sat dumb and tear struck on his bed. Both legs hooked on the edge and face buried in his palms trying to stop the tears from welding up. He hadn't had a good cry in a century, so why now out of all days? The slow burn of his pent up tears was an oddly satisfying release. Each tear trickling faster than the last, eyes begging to be cleared of its misery.

"Fuck."

"Fuck, fuck, fuck." Rodrick cursed to himself, all the thoughts of him bullying you and misery he's put you through crashing him in the head just like he would to his drums.

"What's wrong with you." "Sick fuck."

He sighs before plopping down laying flat on his bed, head dazed and vision clouded. Then something clicks in his head. Something stupid but he hopes it works.

-----------------------------------------------------

Y/n spent the night strumming her guitar a long to whatever song she'd learnt in the past week hoping to forget about the events of the day. Why did Rodrick leave so abrubtly? Was i being weird? Fuck was I? Yet the thoughts of Rodrick still fled her head just like they did every other night.

The low buzz of an Instagram notification brought her back to life but the person it was from might as well put her back to death.

@rxdr1ckxx - wanna crash at mine?

Cute username she thought.

What? Is he trippin'? He never texts me.

sure! sent.

she stupidly sends in a rush of emotions. "I mean who even sends sure with an exclamation mark!?" She curses under her breath before lighting another cigarette to numb the feelings she felt right then and there, eyes fluttering close as the smoke fills her soul.

---------------------------------------------------------

The house was dull yet lit up by the moonlight which sparkled over it delicately. It was a plain looking neighbourhood, quite, suburban and so not Rodrick. It was definitely something she wasn't normally used to. No random beer cans smashed on the floor, no random junkies hanging out at this late hour. Just an irkingly perfect neighbourhood.

She looked up to see a window illuminating light onto the dark house beside it. Could that be Rodricks room?

hey bozo im here 11:58PM sent

she saw the light shadows of someone moving at the top most floor, what appeared to be the attic. Oh. So that wasn't his room.

"what the fuck is taking him so long?" she sighed as she bit her lips at the cold air surrounding her body, quickly stepping on her cig in the process dirtying this perfectly pictured neighbourhood just a little bit. Adding character she thought.

damn, bozo? You're getting real brave out here 12:05AM

finally, you gonna tell me how to get in or what? 12:05AM

yea yea just take the staircase allll the way to the top, literally the only door on that floor. doors unlocked btw 12:06AM

she didnt bother replying to that so she slowly scraped her feet across the pavement as if the slightest sound could wake the whole neighbourhood. Careful as she placed her hand around the door nob twisting it painfully slow until she heard it unclick. The smell of old house filled her nostrils and she honestly felt... at home. She crept up the carpetted staircase that was placed right in front of the door and cringed at every creeeeak the floorboards would make when she pressed her feet down a little too hard on the floor. She even passed by what seemed to be his brothers room, light still on and music playing way louder than it should've at this time of night making her jump in adrenaline as she realised that she was being too slow. So she dashed up the next flight of stairs and was greeted with a swinging door. Fuck, now of all times Rodrick?

He did nothing but stand there with parted lips and she swears he looks down at her lips again.

"Hey"

"Hi."

"Why'd you even invite me over, you never do" The sound of rock playing softly in his bedroom, the one small warm lamp that lit up his whole room, his walls covered in band posters and a freaking weezer album cover made her forget what she even said quickly pushing past him to admire his messy yet pretty room.

"W-woah slow down there" He chuckled before you heard the door shut behind him. You turned around to face him with a smile which made him want to take you right then and there. He shot back that stupid smug grin of his as he made his way to his bed, sitting dazed on the edge.

"Thought i'd start invitin' you over more, seems unfair if I just infiltrate your place." He sighs before plopping flat on his bed, stomach heaving up and down with each breath he took. Hot she thought.

"Well you thought right, i mean where have you been hiding this haven from me! Bitch." She yelps before plopping down right beside him, toothy smile in action as she turned to look at him and so he mirrored her actions.

Fuck why does she always have to look so good. He cursed in his mind as his eyes couldn't help but flutter down to her lips before he shut them tight. Why the fuck was he feeling like this now. Out of all the times he's known her. This time felt different.

He brought his lanky hand up to her face and she flinched slightly at his touch but began to cave in as he rotted her with his unfamiliar, -almost forbiden- affection.

"I'm really- really sorry y/n." He said as he tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear making her blush a bundle of roses.

"Why're you being like this?"

"Being like what?" He said as she began to sit up right on his bed.

"Don't play dumb Rodrick. B-being all nice and shit." She stuttered as she looked at him with sad eyes.

"You got a kink for me being mean?" Rodrick tried to joke but quickly realised this wasn't the right time.

He sighs. "It's just. Fuck. I've felt so bad these past few days. No- fuck. I feel bad all the time, about the things i've put you through."

She slightly laughs to herself making Rodrick fumble with his fingers.

"And yet i still always let you in." She sighs before wrapping her arms around her knees, bringing it into her chest to feel that nice stretch and comfort it always gave her.

"Sometimes i wonder why. I'm such a dick and and-" Before he can finish those words y/n slowly leans closer to his face now seeing every freckle and crease his pretty face adorned.

"Can i?" She says so quietly it might as well have been a whisper as she glanced down to his now parted lips. His expression was unlike anything she'd ever seen before. Eyes agape with a breathlessness to it.

"Anything you like." And with those words she plants a soft kiss on his lips, one that makes him feel numb in love- no, hungry for more.

"And sometimes i wonder why i still let you intrude my thoughts even though you don't deserve it." She says before pulling away a blushing mess.

"I'll take that as an apology accepted?" He says with his signature stupid smirk which always made a certain wetness pool at her core.

She does nothing but cover her face with her hands embarrassed as the events of what had happened just hit her like a truck.

"Can i.. can i kiss you again?" Rodrick says so quietly and low beside her ear making her flinch in the darkness that covered her eyes.

He slowly removes her hands from her pretty blush strucken face and with a nod of her head he dives in like a man starved. The feeling of her soft plush lips against his slightly dry ones made him feel harder than he already was, the quiet whimpers she'd make every-time he ran his fingers up and down her waist not helping his case.

"You" kiss "don't" kiss "fucking know how long" kiss "i've thought about this for." kiss. He says as he feels her lips smile on his.

"You've thought about me kissing you?" She says a complete pool of putty under his hands as they caress her hips as if she was the most precious thing he's ever laid his hands upon.

"Fuck, was it not obvious?" He laughs before pecking her jaw, startling her as he began to move away from her lips.

So the glances at my lips were real. she thought.

As the kisses got more intense y/n guided Rodricks hands lower, lower and lower causing a soft groan to erupt from his lips, him blushing madly at his antics. She kept going until he accidentally pinned her against his matress from the inbalance.

"Fuck is this okay? M'sorry-"

"Just shut up and kiss me"

Those simple words make Rodricks dick jump hard.

He dives back in moving both her arms above her head and pinning them down from there so he has better access to her neck without her squirming about. He plants soft painfully sloppy kisses around her collar bone and sucks harshly at the hollow space between. He accidentally brushes his hard on at the side of her thigh in the process making her feel that familiar warm liquid pool even more at her core.

"Can i..... Can i take this off?" He asks quietly whilst looking her down with his pretty eyes, each detail of his face unmasked from the amount of freckles that ranged from dark to light, the pinkness of his kiss sick lips, that god damn smudged eyeliner he always forgot to remove.

"mhm" She said just above a whisper as she trembled at his touch around the side of her boobs.

"I need words y/n" He whispers as he places a soft peck on her lips.

"Y-yes." She says as she shakes at his lips and how soft they are.

"Good girl." And with that he slowly removes her top, tapping her sides lightly indicating her to hoist her body up, painfully peeling the soft sweater she wore off her.

His lips were parted and eyes blown at the sight of her in just her bra. She sheepishly covered her chest, insecure of them and turned her face away but Rodrick wasn't having it.

"Show me how pretty you can be yea?" He says as he slowly peels her hands away from her chest making her whimper in the process.

The sight made his already rock hard erection even harder than it could possibly be. Her chest heaving up and down, lips slightly parted and checks flushed. He had her where he always dreamt of. All at his mercy.

He moves down to remove her bra clasp, fumbling with the clip before finally breaking it loose making him groan as he saw her tits come loose. He slowly moved down to give it a little peck awaiting her reaction and he fucking smirks when she moans out his name.

"Never been touched here before?" He asks gently as he continued to suckle each nipple teasingly

"F-Fuuckk n-not like t-this- Ahh shit" she moaned through her words as he continued to abuse the plush skin.

"You" Pop "Look" Kiss "So fucking" squeeze "pretty like this." He groaned as another moan erupted from her mouth.

"Being so so good for me"

"Rodrick?"

"Hmm?"

"Why were you ahh- so mean to me before this." She struggled as his actions got more intense each lick more vivid and drowning than the last.

"Honestly I-" "I was just mad that you were so fucking perfect." He sighs as he looks up at her with the prettiest doe eyes.

"Wanted you to experience what i fucking went through and ended up regretting it all." He slowly brings his head up to level with her caressing her face with his thumbs slowly.

"You dont fucking deserve that and im so, so sorry." He says and she swears this is the most sincere he's ever been.

"You were a dick Rodrick. So now its time to put it to good use." She tries to lighten the mood as she pulls his shirt by the collar and his lips clash into hers again. It was her turn to take action.

She slowly moved her soft hands up and down the denim of his jeans feeling his erection shine through the thick material. He groaned at every miniscule touch she gave him, each one more painfully teasing than the last.

"Can i take these off?" She asks as she plays with the zipper of his jeans.

"Fuck, fuck yea you can" He smirks before guiding her hands down to his belt and watches as she fumbles around with the hook. As soon as she unbuckles the belt he's quick to help remove his jeans in one swift motion. His jeans get tossed to the floor helplessly merging with the floor in his trashed room.

His boxers were tight around his erection and y/n felt her mouth water with the way it twitched each time she tapped it lightly, lips twirling at the faces Rodrick would respond with.

"S-stop Ahh- teasing" Rodrick shakily breathed as he pinned her deeper into the mattress. As if something of a revelation was revealed, his eyes darkened and he grabbed her wrists harshly but not enough to hurt her when she tapped one last time, the hardest time.

He moaned, he hissed, he produced a plethora of sweet sounds.

"Nuh ah ah sweet thing" Her eyes fluttered at the pet name.

"I'm gonna show you just how much i'm sorry. You lay back and relax" Rodrick winks and it's not cringy before planting a soft kiss at the side of her lips causing her the whimper at the lack of affection.

With that Rodrick slowly and painfully traced his fingers down the valley of her breasts, down her soft belly finally reaching the dark fuzz of pubic hairs which grazed her panties waistband. His body was now placed between her thighs, eyes still innocent as he looked up at her. He gave her clothed cunt a soft kiss and she arched her back so hard she swore she saw stars.

"Have you- Have you ever been touched before?" He asked seeing how sensitive she was to his mere touch.

"N-no. I'm still a virgin." She sighs in bliss as he begins to rub light circles around her clit.

"All these years i've known you so well... But i've never known you were a virgin." He grins with a slight sparkle in his eyes as he pulls the waistband of her underwear down a notch.

"Up, I hope you forgive me after this." He taps at her waist and she follows at this new familiarity as if they've done this a million times.

She's not sure if she's hallucinating but she swears she sees Rodrick slowly rutting himself into the mattress at every occasion he gets thinking she's not aware.

He slowly drags the lace-y material down her thighs and gawks at the sight beneath him. Her splayed out on his bed waiting for his next move, hair a mess and mascara blown out. This might as well have been something out of his wettest dreams.

"Im gonna go in okay?" He asks the softest he's ever been whilst placing delicate kisses around her neck making her gasp at the multi sensation.

He slowly plunges a finger in struggling at the resistance rubbing circles around her clit trying to sooth her ache.

"Fuck so wet for me already." He moans as he feels his finger dip in easily. He plunges in her folds excruciatingly slow. Each dip like rubber into her spongy walls.

"A-Ah shit!" She moaned at this new found sensation. She craved for more.

"C-can you aah- put another one in?" She shyly asked as the sounds that filled the air were heinous and obscene. Each time Rodrick went in, a sick slick wet sound was produced.

"So eager huh?" He smirks as he feels his boxers get tighter and tighter, a patch of pre cum staining his boxers and seeping in the mattress as he slowly ruts into it imagining it was her. Each clench around his finger made his cock jump just imagining it was him she was wrapped around.

He obliged and gave her another peck as he inserted another finger. She couldn't take it anymore. The cries that filled the room were far from innocent as Rodrick plunged his fingers back and forth and back and forth through her soaking hole. Never in a million years would Rodrick have imagined that the girl he bullied to be screaming his name as she came around his fingers clenching at every soft praise he gave her.

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omfg fucking finally after 1 billion years of writing this I CAN FINALLY POST IT!!!!! btw i might continue writing yearning for u so keep ur eyes peeled!

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