dark-vader28 - Tumblr blog

dark-vader28 · 2 months

Note

before I start I love your work you’re literally my favourite writer on tumblr atm :)

(I never do requests so I might be a bit stiff 😭)

I was wondering if you could do something where the reader is Rodricks neighbour and one of his best friends. And it’s like friends to lovers?

Rodrick takes us on drives with his van often and loves spending time with us. And then one day he confesses. (Idk I’m waffling atp)

aww this is so cute i love this idea and tysm!!

a/n: i’m sorry this is so lazy and poorly edited, i’ve just been so swamped with work but i didn’t wanna wait any longer to write this cause it’s such a cute idea.

———

Greg and Rowley were getting tossed around in the back of Rodrick’s van, flying across with every bump in the road. Music blasted through the van and out the open windows as you and Rodrick sat in the front. For a moment you felt bad for the two boys in the back, one of them being your best friend’s younger brother. But you were over the feeling as Rodrick air-drummed along to the song, nearly crashing the car for the millionth time. You’d gotten used to his reckless driving and if anything, you enjoyed it like it was some rollercoaster.

The van slammed to a stop at Rodrick’s house and Greg slammed against the back of your seat, causing you to laugh. You turned to look back at them, unbuckling your seatbelt in the meantime. They both looked horrified, wide-eyed and disheveled clothing and hair, but they didn’t look hurt. No visible signs of bruises or bleeding anyway.

The radio shut off and you hurried out the car and to the back to help Greg and Rowley out. You knew Rodrick wasn’t the biggest fan of either of them but you didn’t mind them and the sinking feeling of guilt started to return as you watched them stumble out the car.

“Guess he shouldn’t have taken out the seats in the back,” you commented, grabbing Greg’s backpack that had been thrown around.

“Ya think?” Greg replied, pissy and sarcastic. Rowley scrambled to his feet, swinging his backpack onto both shoulders.

“Maybe I can convince Rodrick to let me drive next time, alright?” you suggested.

“Only if you’re better than that,” Greg scowled, glaring at Rodrick who was running inside.

“Be nice,” you warned.

“Why?! Rodrick nearly killed us!” Greg defended.

“He’s my best friend like Rowley is yours. Be nice or I won’t do you a favour and ask Rodrick if I could drive.” Greg frowned but kept his mouth shut, dragging Rowley along with him as they ran inside.

You were closing up the back of the van when Rodrick came running back out. You heard his quiet footsteps and quickly turned around before he could try and scare you.

“You know, maybe I should drive next time,” you told him, going to the passenger seat to grab your backpack.

“What? No way,” Rodrick replied without missing a beat. Your backpack hung from one shoulder as you closed the car door.

“Why not?” you questioned.

“My van, my keys,” he said, dangling his keys in the air. “I drive.”

“Yeah, well one day you’re gonna end up killing Greg and Rowley back there,” you added, shooting him a disapproving look.

“So?” he retorted. You pushed his shoulder, rolling your eyes and shaking your head as you hid a smile.

“You’re a douche, you know that?” you laughed, heading towards your house (which was right beside Rodrick’s). He followed after you. He tossed an arm around your shoulder, a gesture he started doing more and more often that you had grown accustomed to.

“Well, chicks dig bad boys,” he chuckled. You rolled your eyes again, pushing him off of you and he laughed harder.

Rodrick stayed over until about 7 that night, leaving when he figured he should go home before his mom had a fit about him missing family dinner. The two of you hung out nearly every night. More often than not, you were at his house, sat in his garage as he played drums or in his room watching scary movies until you were left holding onto him. You often weren’t that scared but watching horror movies at 3am is a different story. The only reason you ever hung out at your house was when Rowley was hanging out with Greg to spare the both of you from being bothered by them.

You and Rodrick had been friends since your family moved to town. The house right beside the Heffley’s was for sale and your father bought it without hesitation. You then met Rodrick at school, around the beginning of 8th grade. The two of you were sat in the back and you made some half-witted comment about how arbitrary and ridiculous the lecture and class was. Rodrick overheard and the two of you spent the next few weeks insulting and cracking jokes about the teacher in that class. Your desks would always scoot closer together and you had to cover your mouth to stifle the laughter and hide the smiles. By the end of 8th grade, you had spent a majority of the year sitting at his lunch table and hanging out after school. You used to go to the park near your house and torment the other kids there; hiding behind play structures and jumping out to scare them. It became more after that, especially when high school hit. You used to spend an afternoon together once in a while but he started to become an everyday thing, taking drives together when he somehow managed to get his license. Fortunately for the two of you, Rodrick’s mom adored you. Which may be why his parents never had a problem with you spending endless nights there.

But, despite what your parents thought at first and what Greg and Rowley think, you never had any romantic feelings for him. He didn’t feel like a brother to you either considering the way you saw Rodrick and Greg relentlessly bicker and fight. You weren’t like that with Rodrick. Sure, you teased one another but never fought in the way you’d watched Greg and Rodrick fight. You loved Rodrick, not in a brotherly way or in a “i’m in love with you, and i know that love is just a shout into the void, and that oblivion is inevitable” way. Or at least you thought.

Saturday evening rolled around and you sat up against the headboard of your bed, flipping through some old book you’d had for years. Your eyes flicked over the pages, hardly taking in and reading a single word. Your headphones blared music into your ears and you couldn’t help but tap the spine of the book along to the rhythm until you lost all interest in the book’s entirety. You tossed it aside, staring blankly at the wall in front of you. Normally, it would’ve been a day where you and Rodrick hung out but he had never picked up the phone and called you, or came pounding on your door, or even had failed attempts at climbing through your window (considering your parents were a little less fond of Rodrick, calling him a bad influence and whatnot). His absence left your day empty and it felt tedious with how slow the hours seemed to pass.

Around 9 o’clock, when you planned on having an early night due to your lack of things to do, you could hear honking from the front of your house. Then a shout of your name echoed through the house. You pulled on a jacket, covering up your bare arms, and practically flew down the stairs. Your mom stood at the front door, arms folded over her chest with a scowl.

“That boy, Rodrick, is honking outside. I just put your sister to bed and now she’s up, crying,” your mom frowned. You pursed your lips briefly and glanced at the door.

“Sorry, mom,” you mumbled, sliding into a pair of shoes before hurrying out the door. As you closed it behind you, you saw Rodrick hanging out the window of his van, one hand over the horn while the other held him up. His hand seemed to slip and he honked again. You rushed to the car and hit him as he flopped down into his seat. “Quit honking, or my mom’s gonna kill you,” you urged. Despite the darkness of the night, the pale moonlight lit up his face just enough to see the red of his cheeks as he looked away from you.

“Get in then, or I’ll honk again,” Rodrick joked and you rolled your eyes, smiling, before willingly getting in the passenger side.

“I should’ve asked, where exactly are we going?” you asked, turning your attention to him as he began driving. He was driving slower and much more carefully than he ever had before. His shoulders rose and fell in a shrug and he failed to look in your direction.

“I just wanted to take a drive,” he replied simply, sounding a little sheepish, which wasn’t like him. Taking drives with him wasn’t an unusual thing per se, but the way he seemed quieter and damn near stunned around you hadn’t fit his typical demeanor. Quite frankly, it worried you.

“Don’t you have a curfew?” you asked. He tapped the wheel, looking nearly everywhere but you. He nodded cautiously.

“Yeah, 9 o’clock,” he muttered. You laughed a bit, hoping it would lighten the mood or ease the tension that was weighing a ton.

“Well then, Rodrick, I-” but he interrupted.

“Have you ever liked anyone?” he blurted out. Your brow furrowed, stunned by the randomness of the question. His knuckles looked white from the way he gripped the steering wheel and you feared he would break it off.

“What’s that got to do with anything?” you questioned, avoiding answering. He drew in a sharp breath.

“I was just wondering,” he replied. You bit the inside of your cheek, hesitating on your response.

“Why, you like someone?” you asked, still delaying your answer as you tried to conjure up something to say. What did it matter to him? Better yet, why had the question made you so nervous? You and Rodrick told each other nearly everything. Rodrick ran to you asking for advice when he had a crush on Heather Hills. Why was it so different now?

“I don’t know,” he whispered. “I shouldn’t,” he added, his voice going even quieter.

“What do you mean you shouldn’t?” you inquired. His jaw clenched and he brought the car to a stop. You looked around outside for a moment. There were no houses. There was nothing at all really. Just empty land.

It was silent except for the distant chirp of crickets. It took Rodrick a moment before he finally spoke. “Y/n, I-” he stopped, finally looking at you. All words escaped his mind and the rest of his sentence trailed off. He averted his gaze as quickly as he had found it and cleared his throat. He shook his head and shut his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose. He buried his face in his hands and your worry reached its peak. He seemed outright miserable.

“I like you,” he spoke, voice muffled by his hands. Your jaw went slack and eyes went wide.

“What?” you asked quietly, not because you hadn’t heard but because you couldn’t fathom the fact he liked you of all people.

He lifted his face out of his hands and repeated himself, louder this time. “I like you.” Your gaze softened.

“Rodrick,” you began softly. His hands fell to his lap, then raised again and gripped the wheel, running his hands over it. Your mind was going nearly a million miles an hour, trying to sort out his and your own feelings. Your heart was practically beating out of your chest and you could hear the thump of it through the silence. You were hoping he would say something as you tried to carefully pick out your words but your head was just a jumble of all the things you wished you could say.

“Yeah, no, I get it,” he said, sounding defeated. You shook your head and your mouth opened but no words seemed to pour out. When there was a lack of your response, Rodrick jumped in. “I’ll take you home. Forget this ever happened, alright?” He finally met your gaze again and you could see the way his eyes were glassy and on the verge of bloodshot. You felt your eyes start to pool up. He turned his attention to the road and started up the car again.

“Rod, I, um, I didn’t mean for you to take it like that.” You desperately racked your brain for any of the right words that seemed to be forming on the tip of your tongue but you couldn’t deliver it properly. “To be honest, I don’t know how I feel.” You let out a light laugh, keeping yourself from the tears about to flow down your cheeks.

You were so enveloped in your mess of thoughts, you hadn’t noticed when Rodrick’s van pulled to a stop right in front of your house. You swallowed the lump in your throat and a hot tear rolled down your cheek. You’d come to the realization you liked him too, and maybe that you always had. It had never made sense to you though; that you felt that way for him. It didn’t made sense now either but it was clear that you did. You both got out of his van and you rushed over to his side. He was heading up his driveway and you stepped in front of him. He stopped, looked down at you through a few strands of his dark shaggy hair that covered his glassy doe brown eyes and you felt your heart stop for a moment. You cupped his face, and moved up to press your lips to his. There was a moment of bliss and ignorance where it felt like the world fell away. But you felt him tense underneath your touch and you slipped away. You let your hand fall away and felt the sinking feeling of regret in your stomach as you started walking away. Maybe if you had seen the dorky bright smile illuminate Rodrick’s face as you walked away, you might’ve felt better but you scurried home and spent the rest of the night thinking you made the worst decision of your life; ruining your friendship with Rodrick in a way that couldn’t be recovered.

The doorbell echoed through the house, startling you awake. You groaned, rubbing your eyes and turning on your side to look at your alarm clock. It was barely 9 am. You yawned and stretched as you sat up, finally getting up as the doorbell rang impatiently again. Your eyes had dark rings and were still red from your night of crying over Rodrick (shamefully and feeling ridiculously stupid for caring so much) but you hardly thought about how you looked as you stumbled to the door. The doorbell rang a 3rd time and you were sure your parents would be mad at you for not answering the door sooner. You swung the door open carelessly, not bothering to look through the peephole first. Despite your tiredness blinding your senses, the strong scent of flowers filled your nose when the door opened and when your eyes focused, you noticed the bright arrangement of colors before you, all blooming and full of life, which you weren’t sure you’d be able to maintain for long.

“My mom picked them, I didn’t know what you like,” the voice mumbled. Your attention flicked up from the flowers to the one holding them. You suddenly wished you looked better; your hair tangled from bedhead, bloodshot eyes, and some old tank top and pajama pants you had for years. Your eyes found Rodrick’s deep brown eyes and messy hair with a crooked smile on his lips. You nearly swooned, gaze softening as you could feel your heart melt.

“Rodrick,” you started quietly. He held the flowers out to you and you took them, a grin spreading across your face. You were speechless. You never took him as the type to give flowers, especially after one impulsive kiss. Not to your knowledge, Rodrick had run to his mom that night and begged her to help him. He didn’t trust most of her advice but took her ideas and turned them into The Rodrick Way. Except for the flowers. That was all his mom’s idea.

“Wanna take a drive?”

———

a/n (again): this was kinda lazy and i hate this but i felt bad for postponing posting this for so long and i can’t keep rereading this and trying to fix it 😭 anyway, i loved the request so much!

#rodrick heffley #rodrick heffley x reader #rodrick rules #rodrick fanfic #doawk rodrick #devon bostick #diary of a wimpy kid rodrick #rodrick x y/n #rodrick x reader #my fic #anon ask #anonymous #thanks anon!#send asks #thanks for the ask!

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dark-vader28 · 3 months

Note

Aoao, your post about Roderick Heffley is so deeply imprinted in my heart. Can I make a request for Rodrik/reader(girl)?

The reader is the younger sister of one of Rodrick's friends from the rock band. (just a year younger than our emo boy😉)How about, Roderick himself doesn't realize that he has fallen in love with a friend's YOUNGER sister, the reader's brother with "What the hell dude!? She's my sister!" and Rodrik's graduation ball, to which he confusedly invites the reader...

Sorry for the English, I hope everything was clear 🙏

pls i love this idea so much im climbing the walls

———

Löded Diper, your brother’s band, was practicing tonight. Normally, you took no interest in it and it had little to no importance to you, but tonight was a different set of circumstances. Your parents were off to dinner and they demanded that you and your brother hang out, no matter where it was that you went. Not to your surprise, your brother was quick to call up the rest of his band and suggest they rehearse. Which meant you were forced to go along.

His car rolled to a stop on the Heffley’s driveway, the garage open with the other band mates standing around the drum set with the name Löded Diper painted on it. You groaned as you exited the car, realizing you were to spend the rest of your night listening to them play.

Your brother greeted the rest of the band, already exchanging jokes and banter. You had been relieved that they hadn’t noticed you and you snuck past them, hoping to find some spot in the corner where you wouldn’t receive any attention.

As you searched for a neat spot to sit (without spiders), the laughter seemed to stop and the room was quiet except for the shuffle of your feet against the floor. You froze before turning around to face the band.

“Who’s that?” the one sitting at the drums asked, pointing at you with his drumstick. You narrowed your eyes slightly, glaring at the boy for his lack of manners.

“Is that your girlfriend?” another asked and a chorus of “ooh”s and laughter filled the air. Your brother was quick to dismiss it, hushing the band.

“Gross, man, she’s my sister!” he shouted over them. Your arms crossed over your chest as they all simmered down. “She has to stay here. She won’t talk or do anything,” then he turned to you, “right?”

“Yes sir,” you mocked sarcastically, flopping yourself down into an old lawn chair you found.

It wasn’t long before the floor was practically vibrating with the volume of their music and the sounds filled your ears. You sat and picked at your nails, imagining what the family inside the home must’ve thought of the blaring music coming from the garage. Surely if it were you, you would’ve been exhausted of hearing your son play all the time.

They played for hours but it hadn’t felt as long as you thought it would’ve felt. You had spaced out most of the time, daydreaming of anything your mind dreamt up which occupied your time. Occasionally, you found yourself unconsciously tapping the armrest to the rhythm of whatever tune they were playing but you would stop anytime you caught yourself doing it.

It was pushing 10 o’clock when two of them started to pack up. Unfortunately, your brother was not one of them. Even after the departure of two band mates, your brother and the drummer played on for a few painfully long songs.

You were on the edge of the seat, elbows resting on your thighs as you anxiously fidgeted with the rings on your fingers. The final song wrapped up and you clapped absentmindedly and your brother gave you a puzzled look, assuming you had been paying no attention.

Your brother started to pack up his guitar and you rose out of your seat, eager to leave. You were already exiting the garage when your brother stopped you.

“Slow down. I’m going to the bathroom first, then we’ll leave,” your brother explained before rushing off to the bathroom. You lightly sighed and turned back to the garage. The drummer was pacing around, avoiding looking even in the vicinity of you, as he spun the drumstick around in his hand.

Your brother seemed to be M.I.A., leaving you and his drummer alone in the garage for an extended period of time. Trying to soothe the awkwardness and silence in the room, you attempted to spark up a conversation.

“I never got your name,” you spoke quietly, turning to face him. His pacing came to a halt and he glanced at you.

“Why do you wanna know my name?” he asked curiously, sounding mildly irritated. You rolled your eyes and sighed lightly.

“I was just trying to make small talk, alright?” you explained, frustrated. It was a simple question, you didn’t understand why he was trying to make a big deal out of it.

After a moment of silence, he finally answered. “It’s Rodrick,” he mumbled. He stole another glance at you. “You?”

“Y/n,” you replied, letting a small smile stretch across your lips. A grin began to form on Rodrick’s face, lighting up from your smile. He faced away from you, trying to cover it up.

The room went still again and you caught Rodrick stealing glances at you as his pacing resumed. You walked to the driveway and sat down, looking up at the stars, waiting to leave. You could hear Rodrick stop, and you turned back to catch him staring at you, brows furrowed. You shifted your gaze back to the stars, admiring the way they lit up the darkness of the sky. Footsteps shuffled closer to you and Rodrick was sat beside you, leaving a wide space between the two of you. Both of his drumsticks tapped against his leg as he looked around anxiously.

“How do you do that drumstick spin?” you asked curiously, turning your attention to him. “I saw you do it when you guys were playing.” He shrugged a little, seemingly acting shy or embarrassed. “Could you teach me?” you asked quietly and a faint smile started to stretch across his lips.

It was a little while before your brother had returned, mouth full of food. You and Rodrick had been talking as he tried to teach you. You both turned around, pausing your movement with the drumsticks, as your brother stumbled out the door.

“Man, you’ve got some great food in there,” he started, muffled and laughing. His face dropped when he noticed you were beside Rodrick, closer than you had started. He pointed between the two of you and started to swallow the rest of the food in his mouth so his next string of words would be clear. “What’re you doing?”

“Nothing,” you replied, standing up. Rodrick quickly scrambled to his feet after you, nearly falling over again. “I just asked Rodrick to teach me something.” You were being vague and you could tell it was setting your brother off.

“Y/n, get in the car. I need to talk to Rodrick,” your brother demanded. You frowned a little.

Handing Rodrick’s drumstick back to him, you walked to the car and tossed yourself in the passenger seat, slamming the door shut. You pouted slightly, crossing your arms over your chest. Despite your initial thought of Rodrick, you had a better time talking to him than most guys your age. Granted, Rodrick was only a year older, but it was different. Maybe it was the added aspect of him being your brother’s bandmate that made it more exciting. But you were unbothered by that fact, you had just wished you had gotten to talk to him more.

Rodrick and your brother talked for a while and when your brother got in the car, he seemed pissed. He stayed silent through the car ride and the tension was practically suffocating you. It’s not like you and Rodrick had done anything.

Your parents were already home by the time you pulled into the driveway. They were sat on the couch, watching some movie together. It was nearly 10:30 but your parents had long since given up on a curfew for the two of you.

You greeted your parents and wished them goodnight before running off to your room. You hoped your brother wouldn’t hold a grudge against you and the whole Rodrick thing would just blow over in the morning. Unfortunately, that wasn’t Rodrick’s intention.

The bell rang, signaling the school day’s end. Kids poured out of classrooms, their laughter and shouts filling the hall. You rushed to your locker and fumbled for the lock.

You and your brother had worked things out. He had told you just to stay away from Rodrick and he said he had told Rodrick the same thing. Seems like Rodrick missed that part.

A hand slammed your locker shut, startling you. A tall figure with dark messy hair and some sort of graphic t-shirt tucked only in the front behind a pair of jeans stood there. Rodrick smirked, leaning up against the locker next to yours. You were stunned, a half full backpack in your hands with your jaw hanging slack.

“What are you doing here?” you asked, pushing him away as you started to unlock your locker once more.

“I go to school here,” he retorted. You rolled your eyes and quickly shoved the rest of your things in your bag.

“No shit?” you questioned sarcastically, closing your locker. His brow furrowed. “I meant what are you doing talking to me?” He smiled, looking away from you.

“Well, I decided I don’t care what your brother tells me to do,” he replied simply, a smirk still plastered on his lips. God, you wished you could smack it off.

“So, what, you wanna talk to me now?” you pestered, zipping up your backpack and slinging it on one shoulder.

“Who said I didn’t want to talk to you before?” he blurted out. He froze, shutting his eyes in embarrassment. You could feel a slight blush creep on your face but you dismissed it, shaking your head. You started to walk away but Rodrick followed, still trying to keep your attention.

“Do you need something from my brother or are you really just here to bother me?” you asked as you pushed open the front doors, exiting the school. Rodrick grabbed your arm and pulled you to the side, away from the crowd of students eager to get home.

“This isn’t about your brother. You could come over and I could finish teaching you-” he rambled but you stopped him.

“You must be crazy, Rodrick. If my brother sees me standing here with you right now, I’m as good as dead, and so are you,” you urged, trying to walk away from him but he pulled you back.

“Then come over tonight. Just you. He won’t see then,” Rod suggested. Your jaw seemed to drop a little and you nearly gave in. You shook your head.

“No, no, no, he’ll ask where I was or where i’m going and he won’t stop until he figures it out,” you tried to explain, attempting to flee one last time but he pulled you back.

“Then just lie. If he asks me, I’ll do the same.” You paused, and swallowed a lump in your throat.

“Why are you so determined to talk to me?” you questioned, looking at him puzzled. He looked down, biting the inside of his cheek. He shrugged and his eyes looked everywhere but you.

You hated to admit it but you were disappointed. You were hoping to get an answer out of Rodrick but as the moments passed and there was nothing but shared silence between you two, you left. And that night, you almost considered going over to his house but you thought better of it and stayed home.

The same thing happened the next day. And the day after that. And for a little while after that. He incessantly pestered you day after day. Some days, he only spoke to you briefly, asking if you knew whether or not your brother was coming over for a band rehearsal. Other days, it seemed like he didn’t know your brother existed and he only asked about you. It was getting easier to tell him no, even if you wanted to say yes. He was expecting rejection.

By the second week of asking, he was losing interest and would take no as answer right away instead of asking repeatedly after that. And on Friday, he didn’t ask at all. You saw him walking to his van, headphones in with his head down. You frowned, watching him tentatively, hoping he was fetching something from the car and he would turn back and ask you.

As the weekend came along, you tapped your desk with your pen. There was a pile of crumbled up papers beside you and your notebook was nearly halfway ripped out. You frustratedly drew a bunch of scribbles on the page when no words would come out. You torn the piece of paper out and crumbled it, tossing it with the rest of the papers. You gave up, tossing your pen on your desk and turning to your bed. You flopped down and stared at your ceiling blankly. You hadn’t managed to stop thinking about Rodrick since you had seen him walking away. You shut your eyes, trying to clear your head.

Rodrick was doing the same in his room. He blasted music in his ears, trying to occupy his time. Calling him head over heels was an understatement, but it was a statement he couldn’t wrap his head around. You were annoyed because you couldn’t stop thinking about him for a day. He’d been hung up on you for weeks. At first, he thought nothing of it. He thought you were cool, cooler than your brother, and he just wanted to talk to you again. But the more he saw you and the more he talked you (even though every time you spoke, you were turning him down), he was becoming crazy over you. He’d do anything to impress you, making a fool of himself in the process. He wished you would notice him. Every band rehearsal he had, he prayed that your brother would bring you along again. He was always disappointed. But he would never say he had feelings cause he didn’t believe he had any for you.

It was Saturday night and your guilt was eating you alive. You paced your room for a while, trying to clear your thoughts but nothing worked. You ended up surrendering into temptation. You booked it downstairs and swiped the car keys off the counter. Unfortunately, your brother was downstairs.

“Where are you going?” he asked, stopping you at the door.

“My friend’s house, why?” you replied innocently, hiding your intentions.

“Then why are you in a hurry?” he questioned. You racked your brain for a response and blurted out the first thing that came to mind.

“Girl problems,” you answered, knowing he wouldn’t ask anymore questions after that. He made a face of disgust and walked back to the couch. You let out a light sigh of relief before scurrying out the door.

It wasn’t long before you pulled to a stop in the Heffley’s driveway. You nervously walked up the front steps and hesitated before ringing the doorbell. You thought you had the wrong house when a boy, who looked to be only 12, answered the door.

“Is Rodrick here?” you asked cautiously, anxiously fidgeting with the rings on your fingers. The boy’s jaw dropped and he glanced back inside the house.

“You’re here for Rodrick?” he marveled. “Rodrick?” he asked again in shock. You smiled a little, some of the nervousness easing. He remained stunned as he invited you in.

“Who was it?” a woman’s voice called from the kitchen. You started to realize how much of mistake this was. The boy looked at you again.

“What’s your name?” he asked quietly.

“Y/n,” you mumbled.

“It’s one of Rodrick’s friends, Y/n,” the boy answered. You could hear footsteps coming closer now and you panicked, wishing you could turn back and flee.

“But y/n sounds like a girl’s name,” the woman spoke quietly and she seemed pleasantly surprised when her eyes found you. You didn’t look like most of Rodrick’s friends. Sure, this wasn’t the best you looked but you were more put together than the rest of his friends.

“Oh! Hi!” she exclaimed. Oh god, you thought to yourself, I’m meeting his parents. “I’m Susan, Rodrick’s mom. It’s so good to meet you,” she went on, extending her hand out to you. You felt bad considering your hands were a bit clammy from all the anxiety you felt, but you shook her hand anyway out of politeness. “Greg, will you go get Rodrick?” she asked the boy and he nodded and reluctantly ran up the stairs.

“I-I didn’t mean to interrupt or show up at a bad time or anything,” you stuttered but she smiled and shook her head.

“Nonsense! Would you like to stay for dinner?” she offered. Your eyes widened a little.

“I couldn’t possibly ask that of you,” you quickly replied. Footsteps came running down the stairs and your attention diverted. The boy, alongside Rodrick, came running down the stairs. Your heart seemed to be pounding out of your chest, thumping obnoxiously in your ears. Your eyes frantically looked between the three of them. You could only assume your face was turning red.

“Why have you never told me about her, Rodrick?” Susan asked, a smile still on her face. “She seems lovely.” You forced a polite smile but it faltered when you caught Rodrick’s eye.

“Guess I forgot,” he lied.

“Uh, Rodrick?” you asked, your voice breaking. You cleared your throat. “Can i talk to you?” A small smirk started to form on his lips.

“Yeah, come on, we can talk in my room,” he suggested. You swallowed a lump in your throat and followed him carefully up the stairs. Your eyes were glassy and you could feel your lip start to bleed as you continuously chewed on it.

His room was in the attic which only distanced you further away from your escape route. He flopped down onto his bed, resting his back against the headboard and crossing his legs over one another. He put his hands behind his head, the smirk still on his lips.

“So, you changed your mind, huh?” Rodrick chuckled. You could feel the pink rush to your cheeks, wishing he hadn’t looked as good as he did. But, god, you wished you could slap him and take the smirk away from his face.

“If my brother finds out,” you pause, stepping closer to him. “If you tell him, Rodrick, I will-”

“You’ll what, sweetheart?” Rodrick teased, leaning forward so he was closer to you. He chuckled when your jaw went slack, flustered and speechless.

You managed to regain your confidence and you pushed him away from you so he was leaning against the headboard again.

“I’m leaving. This was a mistake,” you explained, ready to dash for the exit. Rodrick was already on his feet and blocking the staircase within the blink of an eye.

“How is this a mistake?” he asked, keeping you from leaving. You sighed and tried to push him aside but he fought back.

“Rodrick,” you warned but he didn’t budge.

“If this is a mistake, why’d you come here in the first place?” Rodrick asked, searching your eyes for an answer. You paused, looking away. Your shoulders shrugged and you could hear him faintly sigh.

“How come you keep trying to talk to me at school? I met you once at a band rehearsal, it was nothing!” Your voice was starting to raise, unaware of your emotions.

“I know that was nothing! I just don’t know what it is! I don’t know why, okay?” Rodrick shouted back. He was sure his parents would be able to hear if they walked by, but that was one of the last things on his mind.

“What, do you like me or something?” Your voice came out harsh and impolite and you wished you had shut up a long time ago. You shut your eyes, and looked down. “I-I’m sorry,” you began to ramble but Rodrick wasn’t listening, too enveloped by his own thoughts.

He couldn’t like you. He could never. He liked Heather Hills. He’s spent forever chasing after her and doing everything to impress her. That’s who he liked. You were just his friend’s annoying little sister. Just because you talked to him first or that you had an interest in his band didn’t mean he liked you. It didn’t mean you liked him either. Just because he spent weeks chasing after you doesn’t mean it was romantically inclined, right.

“Y/n,” Rodrick spoke over your stutters of an apology. You went quiet, eyes glassy. He hesitated, swallowing a lump in his throat. “You wanna go to the dance with me?” Your eyes went wide and your brow furrowed.

“What? What does that have to do with anything?” you questioned, confused and dazed.

“I was going to ask you. I don’t know why,” he added. “There’s a dance in about a month. I was going to ask you after we had hung out but I think you’d like to leave now and I just had to ask-”

“Are you crazy?” you asked, bewildered. He fell silent. He knew it had been the wrong time to ask but he couldn’t hold the words from rolling off tongue his any longer.

“Is that a yes or no?” he asked. You shook your head and pushed him aside.

“No, Rodrick. And don’t ask for a reason. There’s too many of them.”

The dismissing bell rang, marking the end of the day. You hurried to your locker and quickly piled everything inside. Part of you hoped that Rodrick would come running up and slam your locker shut, scaring you the way it always did. You stood foolishly, glancing around for any sight of him. When there was nothing, you closed it and made your way towards the exit.

You trudged to your brother’s car, who you shared a ride with, and heard him arguing with someone else. You tried to hide behind the side of the car and peek your head up to watch and listen to what he was saying. That’s when you noticed the white van parked beside you with Löded Diper painted on it. It was Rodrick.

“You asked her to the dance?! What the hell, dude?! She’s my sister!” your brother shouted. You felt your face flush and your heart stopped.

“Look, man, I’m sorry! She didn’t say yes so what does it matter anyway?” Rodrick fought back. You glanced around nervously before you decided to make your presence known before the argument got any worse.

“What are you guys talking about?” you asked, acting oblivious. They glanced at each other then looked back at you.

“Nothing, get in the car,” your brother said, sliding into the driver’s seat. Rodrick looked annoyed and hurt and he avoided looking at you, hiding the way the tears started to pool in his eyes. He shook his head and got in the front seat of his van. You swung open the car door and flopped yourself down into the seat, wishing you could’ve said something to Rodrick.

Later that night, your brother was passed out asleep on the couch, some television show blasting on the tv. You swiftly snuck your way into his room, searching around for the piece of paper where your brother kept phone numbers. Your brother was terrible when it came to remembering numbers, which became an advantage for you.

You found the slip of paper in his desk drawer and you quickly scanned the list until you found Rodrick’s number. You pulled out your phone and hurriedly dialed it before scurrying out the room in case your brother had woken up.

The phone rung for a while as you paced your room until a tired voice on the other end of the line picked up.

“Hello?” the voice asked, raspy and ridden with sleep. You let out a light sigh of relief, glad he had picked up.

“Hey, Rodrick, can we talk?” you asked, your bottom lip slipping between your teeth.

“Who is this?” he groaned, followed by the rustle of what sounded like bedsheets.

“I’m afraid if I told you, you’d hang up,” you mumbled. Finally waking up, your words seem to catch his attention and he managed to put 2 and 2 together.

“Y/n?” he guessed, knowing the sound of your voice all too well now. Your eyes shifted down and you hesitated before answering with a quiet “yes”.

“Look, Rod, I’m sorry about Saturday. I was a total ass and I was just confused and tired, and I know those are just a bunch of excuses but-” He interrupted.

“It’s fine. You were right.” He sounded run down and miserable.

Silence filled the room and you only felt more guilty as the seconds passed. You racked your brain for something to say, feeling the tears start to pool in your eyes.

“Are you still going to that dance?” you asked, your voice breaking from the tears coming on. Rodrick was quiet for a moment and you thought maybe he hung up or fell asleep again.

“Yeah, why?” he questioned, sitting up in his bed curiously. You shut your eyes in embarrassment before you spoke again.

“If you don’t already have another date, I wanna go. With you.” His end of the line went dead silent. You pulled the phone away from your ear and checked to make sure he hadn’t hung up this time. You shut your eyes tightly, wishing you hadn’t said anything at all. You should’ve never called him, you should’ve never gone over to his house, you shouldn’t have talked to him at the rehearsal-

The line clicked and he was gone, leaving without a response. Your heart sank and a hot tear rolled down your cheek. You quickly wiped it away and threw your phone across the room, not caring if it broke. You could feel more tears coming on and you buried your face in your hands.

You were left sobbing for a while before you heard the doorbell ring, followed by a long string of impatient knocks. You quickly wiped your tears away and checked your reflection on your way out of your room to make sure you didn’t look like a shit-show.

The loud rapping on the door didn’t stop until you reached the door. You swung the door open, prepared to shout at whoever had been knocking at the door annoyingly for so long. You froze when you saw the figure outside the door, your mouth going slightly agape. Before you could even fully process it, lips were pressed against yours and you felt your heart skip a beat. Your head went fuzzy, unable to think straight. You could only feel his lips and the rush of blood going to your face and how you could feel every goosebump rising on your skin. It felt nearly euphoric, making every bad thought slip away as if they’d never happened.

His lips separated from yours and your eyes fluttered open. Your eyes were met with glassy brown doe eyes with a few strands of shaggy deep brown hair falling in front of them. His tall figure stood over you, leaning down close to you. His eyes flicked down to your lips then back to your eyes. He started to move in for another kiss but you pulled back, putting a hand on his chest to push him away. You shook your head.

“Not here. My brother could see,” you whispered. Thankfully your brother hadn’t woken up from his deep sleep on the couch even after the persistent knocking and the doorbell. But you weren’t gonna risk it.

“I don’t care,” Rodrick mumbled and he brought his lips to yours again. You kept him close to you but pushed him away from the door and closed it behind you. Your back pressed against the door and you pulled him closer to you by his collar.

When your lips broke apart again, a smile spread across your face as you pressed your forehead to his. “So, about the dance,” you began slowly. His lips brushed against yours again and his hand cupped your face.

“That later,” he mumbled. “How about you come over tonight?”

———

a/n: okay so i may have gotten a bit carried away with this one, but i hope this matched your request!

#rodrick x y/n #doawk rodrick #rodrick x reader #rodrick fanfic #rodrick heffley x reader #diary of a wimpy kid rodrick #rodrick rules #rodrick heffley #devon bostick #fluff #light angst #one shot #oneshot #my fic

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dark-vader28 · 3 months

Note

PLEASE WRITE MORE RODRICK FAN FICS (FEM ONES OR WHATEVER IS EASIEST IDRC TBH). I LOVE YOUR WORK SO MUCH BTW!! MWAH

TYSMM!!! i’m working on another requested rodrick fic right now! i’ll probably post it soon!

#anon ask #thanks for the ask!

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dark-vader28 · 3 months

Text

A Certain Romance

wpsiatwin!alex turner x fem!reader

warnings: none? nothing but fluff. y/n is used

Your pen anxiously tapped the desk at an unsteady rhythm as you stared blankly at the questions on the paper. You tilted your head slightly, squinting to see if you were reading the problem right. When it seemed to make even less sense as the minutes passed, you tossed the pen aside and leaned back in your chair, letting out an exasperated sigh. You pinched the bridge of your nose, squeezing your eyes shut in frustration. Your head was pounding and the bright illumination of the lamp only added to your migraine.

You heard movement, the rustle of clothes, and you took your hand away from your face. Alex was walking towards you and your demeanor changed. You turned to face him, sitting up straighter. He pulled up another chair and sat directly across from you, his hands in his lap. His eyes were searching yours and he nudged your leg with his.

“You alright, love?” he asked gently. You looked down, posturing slouching as you let out another sigh. You rubbed your eye and started to shake your head but you stopped yourself.

“It’s just,” you paused and glanced at the unanswered paper sitting on the desk. You chuckled a little at the foolishness of how easily you had let yourself get worked up over an assignment. Your eyes found Alex again who was waiting patiently for an answer, sitting on the edge of his chair, slipping closer to you. You swallowed the lump in your throat and rolled your tongue inside your mouth. “I don’t know…” you mumbled, looking down at the floor.

“Y/n?” he asked quietly. You glanced up, eyes glassy. You wished you could stop the tears from coming on. They were nothing but frustration tears but it was beyond you how they had even managed to make their appearance.

Alex grabbed your hand and rose out of his seat. You followed suit and he smiled softly. “Come on,” he spoke, hardly above a whisper. “I think you should take a break,” he suggested, his hand slowly slipping away from yours. You nodded, glancing down.

“And what do you suppose we do?” you asked curiously. You saw a smile stretch across his face but it faded soon after, morphing into a more nervous look.

“There’s, uh,” he paused, his tongue flicking over his lips. “I,” he stopped again, looking away. “Can I show you something?” You hesitated, brow furrowed, before you nodded. He briefly smiled before cautiously moving you to the side, away from his desk. Your eyes followed him as he reached into his desk drawer and pulled out an old notebook. His eyes met yours, causing your heart to flutter for a moment, a feeling you often got around him but you never thought anything of it. He flipped through the pages filled with scribbles from top to bottom. He stopped and waited a moment before he handed the notebook to you. Your eyes flicked between him and the notebook, slowly taking it from his hands.

“What’s this?” you asked, running through thumb over the page. He cleared his throat, shifting weight from foot to foot.

“Song lyrics,” he mumbled. You looked up, a glint in your eyes from the illumination of the desk lamp. You had watched him write for years. Those pages had been all too familiar to you but the words on there had always been foreign. He would occasionally ask you for help when he couldn’t think of a word but he’d never tell you what it was he was writing. You’d seen him play guitar but that was all he ever showed you. You’d asked about the notebook and its contents on multiple occasions but he always seemed to become flustered and blabber about it but he never told you.

You took one last look at him before setting for eyes on the page. You sat back down, your eyes scanning over the scribbles. He watched your reactions carefully, taking his seat in front of you. Nearly half the page was covered with crossed out words and sometimes full lines were scribbled out, new words written on top of the line. You could see Alex’s leg bouncing out of the corner of your eye but you were too attentive to the book. Considering this could be your only chance to read his lyrics before they were released into a real song, you (selfishly) weren’t going to miss your chance, and paid no attention to anything else but his lyrics.

When you reached the bottom of the page, you were nearly frozen, so enveloped by his lyrics. Even with the absence of a melody or instruments or even the sound of his voice, it was incredible.

His eyes were still following you closely, nervous and eager for your response. You shut the notebook, the lyrics running through your head. It was strange finally reading them. You’d known him for so long. You met him back when you were nearly 14 in one of your classes. Normally you hadn’t talked much with anyone your teacher paired you up with in class but you had been humming some tune while working and Alex was quick to recognize it. You weren’t sure really what happened after that but a few years later, he was playing the song for you on guitar, the two of you singing along. Surely you knew Matt was Alex’s best friend but you were convinced Alex was yours. Or at least you thought, never really able to sort out your feelings towards him. You couldn’t like him that way… right?

“Al,” you began softly. “Your lyrics are incredible.” You met his gaze and you felt your heart melt a bit. God, you hated him and those stupid brown doe eyes and the way he looked at you with hearts in his eyes, and the way he could make you smile in a heartbeat, or the way he sent chills down your spine and made you nervous with a single glance, and the way he cared about you more than anyone had, and…

His hand was placed on your leg, his face closer to you. His brows were knitted into a look of concern and your eyes accidentally flicked down to his lips for a moment but you redirected your gaze back to his eyes.

“Y/n, are you sure you’re alright?” he asked, his thumb gently tracing small circles over your leg. You swallowed nervously, nodding. You couldn’t take looking into his eyes a moment longer. Your bottom lip slipped between your teeth and you shook your head, trying to clear your thoughts.

His hand pressed against your cheek, cupping your face tenderly as he tilted your face up to look at him. You could’ve sworn your heart missed a beat. He stole a glance at your lips before meeting your eyes again. You were leaning into his touch, your eyes fluttering shut briefly. The aching feeling in your heart mixed with the slow painful realization that Alex wasn’t just a friend to you anymore. You were drawing closer to him like a magnet. You regained your awareness and you panicked, clearing your throat and moving away. You hurriedly stood up, your heart racing desperately.

“Um,” you stuttered, nervously running a hand through your hand. This couldn’t be real. Alex would never think of you in that way. Friends, you were friends. “Those lyrics were really-”

“Y/n,” Alex interrupted. You turned to face him as he stood up. His eyes looked glassy and tired, like he had lost all hope and any trace of spark in his eyes had vanished. You frowned slightly, hoping you hadn’t been the cause. “I’m sor-” he started but the rest of his words were muffled and drowned out as your lips were slammed against his. You weren’t sure you had ended up there and it seemed every coherent thought had long since disappeared. One of your hands was clutched onto the collar of his shirt, pulling his lips closer to yours frantically. You pulled away when there wasn’t much of a reaction from Alex, falling away from his lips with the sinking feeling you had just ruined your friendship. His face was redder than normal, eyes wider, and his jaw hanging slightly slack. He looked down at your lips before he pulled you in by the waist and placed his lips against yours. The thought of you being friends already felt foreign as your lips collided over and over again.

———————

a/n: sorry this is so short, i kind of just daydream about his lyrics so much that this came to be and this isn’t proofread so sorry for any spelling mistakes

#alex turner #alex turner x reader #alex turner x you #alex turner x y/n #alex turner one shot #arctic monkeys #the arctic monkeys #the last shadow puppets #tlsp #wpsiatwin #wpsiatwin era #whatever people say i am that's what i'm not #my fic

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dark-vader28 · 3 months

Text

New Girl

pairing: rodrick heffley x fem!reader

summary: Reader and her family are new in town, the heffleys invite them over for dinner as a welcome, blah blah blah, rodrick offers to give reader a drum lesson and makes a fool of himself doing everything in his power to impress you

warnings: swearing? tooth-rotting fluff. pls this is my first fic so im sorry if this is terrible, not rlly proofread

Your family had just moved in to Plainview, settled in a cozy home on the corner of the street. Once summer ended, you’d attend Crossland High School as a senior while your younger brother, Jake, would be starting 7th grade at Westmore Middle School. You dreaded school, even in the years you lived in your hometown, surrounded by your friends. Now that you were the new girl, you were sure it’d be all the more worse.

Your younger brother, Jake, on the other hand, made company so easy and made it seem like starting a conversation was as easy as knowing your own name. Sure, he wasn’t very popular, but he never went a year without a new friend or even a whole new group. You were sure he’d already be making friends on the walk to school.

While you were staring at your packed bag that you refused to unpack, in denial that your family had really moved, when the doorbell rang, echoing through the still house. Your attention was diverted and you snuck out your room, quietly walking to the railing by the stairs where you could have a clear view of the front door. You crouched down, hoping you wouldn’t be seen as you watched your mother strut to the door. The door swung open and there was a friendly smile waiting behind, holding some tupperware in her arms.

You were watching and listening, hardly moving or even breathing as they talked. The woman at the door, whose name you heard was Susan Heffley, was welcoming your family to Plainview. You heard them suggest a dinner this weekend so they could meet each other’s families; your mother had mentioned yours and your brother’s age which coincidentally were the same as the Heffleys. You let out a groan as your mom agreed to the dinner.

Mrs. Heffley left a few moments later, wishing your mother another welcome with a gentle smile before walking out the door. Surely she seemed nice but having to attend to dinner with a family you didn’t know was a long dreaded thought of yours.

The rest of the week seemed to go slow as you anticipated the inevitable dinner. You were also attempting to accept the fact that you were truly stuck in Plainview now unless you decided to move out and away when you turned 18, but you knew the thought was pointless considering it meant you’d have to be prepared by then.

When Saturday rolled around, you had finally unpacked your bag, trying to be a little more positive about living here. But that was a lie. Truth was your mom hounded you about living out of a suitcase and told you off for not unpacking. Not wanting to get in any more trouble, you hurriedly unpacked that night, throwing a pair of jeans and some shirt on your bed in the process for you to wear to dinner.

It was 5:50 and you were scrambling to finish up the last of your makeup and hair. If there was one thing your dad hated, it was being late, and you would likely be the cause of it. You had postponed getting ready for so long, procrastinating until there were few minutes to spare. You weren’t sure why you cared so much about your appearance, assuming that you would never talk to that family after tonight.

Jake’s fist pounded on your bathroom door, causing you to jump from the unexpected burst of noise. You nearly burnt yourself with the straightener you were holding. You quickly set it down and swung the door open. You were ready to scold your younger brother but he spoke before you.

“Mom and Dad said we’re leaving now, why aren’t you ready?” he asked. You rolled your eyes and pushed him away from the door, closing it.

“Just one more minute!” you shouted from the other side of the door. He knocked on the door a few more times and when you refused to answer, he gave up, grumbling something under his breath as he ran down the stairs.

A minute turned into two, then three, and then it was 5:59 and your dad was knocking on the door. You turned off the straightener and unplugged it, checking your reflection one last time before hurrying out the bathroom.

Considering how close your houses were, your family walked to the Heffley’s house. Right before the clock turned 6:01, your family was at the door, ringing the bell. You heard a few hushed murmurs from the other side of the door before the same familiar face that had come to your house before swung open the door.

Mrs. Heffley welcomed you in, closing the door behind you. A man, who you could only assume was Mr. Heffley, stood next to Mrs. Heffley, extending out a hand towards your father, then your mother.

“Frank Heffley,” the man introduced, smiling politely. He shook your hand and then Jake’s as Mrs. Heffley introduced herself and the littlest brother, Manny, that she held in her arms.

Then, bounding down the stairs comes a boy, somewhere between 11-13. He comes to a stop next to Mrs. Heffley and wears a nervous smile.

“And his is my second eldest son, Greg,” Mrs. Heffley beams. One after another, you all shake his hand, introducing yourselves. “Greg, you and Jake are both in seventh grade so maybe you’ll make good friends,” Mrs. Heffley comments. Jake smiles a little and Greg is hesitant to return the smile, unsure if he likes your brother.

Mrs. Heffley turns to Greg, whispering something private to him while your father exchanges pleasantries with his father, earning a warm smile from your mother. Greg shrugged at whatever Mrs. Heffley had said to him and she frowned.

It wasn’t long before another set of footsteps came running down the steps, this time a tall boy with dark, messed and fluffed up hair, wearing some graphic tee tucked only in the front behind a pair of dark jeans. He looked your age and from the conversation you had overheard earlier that week, you knew he was your age. But… what did that matter? You had no intent on talking to this family again.

“And this is Rodrick,” Mrs. Heffley introduced, not sounding nearly as enthusiastic as she had been when introducing Greg and Manny. The smile she wore seemed fake as she glared and Rodrick and nudged him. He looked confused, shooting her a look before he noticed my father’s outstretched hand. He shook my parents’ hands as we were all introduced once more, thankfully for the last time. You seemed to catch Rodrick’s eye, and your name was the only one he seemed to remember. He repeated your name in his head, making sure it stuck in his memory. The other names faded from his mind as your families walked to the dining table. A few extra chairs had been added to fit your family, which sat on one side as the Heffley family sat on the other. You faced Rodrick with Jake on your right and your mother on your left. This was already the longest evening of your time in Plainview.

Mrs. Heffley was bringing a plate of food as your fathers chatted away. Rodrick, Greg, and Jake were quick to pile heaping amounts onto their plates. You were the last to go for food, not expecting to eat much since you didn’t have much of an appetite that night.

The parent side of the table was lively, laughter filling the air while it was nothing but the tap or light scrape of the metal forks against the plate on your side of the table. Jake didn’t seem to mind, happily eating away at his food, nearly to the point of asking for seconds. You had picked at the homemade food, taking a few bites ever so often. It smelt amazing, almost giving you your appetite back.

But the worst part of the night wasn’t how they were strangers you were having dinner with, or how empty and silent your half of the table was, but rather how you kept finding Rodrick’s eyes. They were awkward glances where you’d both be caught looking at one another and you’d both avert your gaze as quickly as it had been found. It kickstarted your heart every time, sending a wave of embarrassment flooding through you which was shown through in the heat rising to your face. You were praying someone on your end of the table would feel the silence and ease the tension but with every glance you and Rodrick stole, the atmosphere felt heavier.

The buzz from the other side of the table faded, leaving a few painful moments of entire silence before your dad spoke, speaking to Rodrick this time.

“Was that your van outside?” your dad inquired, hoping to spark up a conversation after noticing the deafening silence.

Rodrick stole another look at you on his way to address your father. He nodded, shifting in his seat a little. The silence was beginning to make its dreaded reappearance and in a desperate attempt to prevent it, you foolishly decided to keep the conversation rolling.

“What’s the name painted on it?” you asked, and Rodrick’s eyes had quickly fallen away from your father to meet you.

“Löded Diper, the name of my band,” Rodrick replied proudly. You attempted to repress a smile. The name was ridiculous and it had you holding back a laugh but something about the confidence and the happiness in his tone made you forget the name and brought a grin to your lips.

“A band, huh? What do you play?” you questioned, shifting in your seat, leaning forward so your attention was nowhere but him. His lips curved up into a smile as his movement mimicked yours, facing you. You could see Susan and your mom smile at each other, gushing at how suddenly you and Rodrick were getting along.

“Drums,” he answered, and the other conversations resumed from the parent side of the table. Greg and Jake were silently watching you and Rodrick talk, both shocked that you had even acknowledged him. Jake knew you weren’t one to engage like this upon first meeting someone, especially not with someone like Rodrick. And Greg was sure you were way out of Rodrick’s league, whether it was from a relationship or even friendship standpoint. Greg and Jake seemed to read each other’s minds and started talking, filling the once silent half of the room with chatter.

“I always wanted to learn drums,” you commented sheepishly, breaking the eye contact you had been holding. He seemed to light up at that, sitting up a little taller.

“I could teach you,” he blurted out, rather loudly. Everyone seemed to glance at him for a moment before ignoring it and resuming their conversations. You found his gaze again and a smile crept on your lips.

“Really?” you asked. He nodded, and your smile curved into a smirk. “Well, of course, you’d have to been good at drums to teach somebody. Prove you’re any good and maybe then you can teach me.” He paused for a moment before he chuckled, leaning back in his chair as his once awkward demeanor became cocky.

“No no no, i’d be doing you a favour. And i don’t need to prove anything. I’m a great drummer. Right, Greg?” Rodrick asked, hitting Greg on the chest. Greg hadn’t been paying attention but held his chest where he had been hit as he nodded, agreeing to whatever Rodrick had asked. “See?” You rolled your eyes, your bottom lip slipping between your teeth to hide your smile.

“The poor kid is terrified of you,” you chuckled. You turned to Greg this time. “Don’t take any of his shit.” Greg smiled brightly and Rodrick seemed flustered that you hadn’t taken his side.

“Oh, come on, I’ve never done anything to him,” Rodrick defended. He wasn’t a great liar. You glanced at Rodrick before looking back at Greg, raising your eyebrows.

“Is he telling the truth?” you asked. Greg shot a look at Rodrick before laughing and shaking his head. You giggled. Rodrick’s face was turning red and he shoved Greg again.

“Dude! Deny, deny, deny!” Rodrick pestered, pushing Greg. Another laughter escaped your lips.

“So you admit you were lying!” Rodrick froze, his face dropping.

With the exception of Rod, your side of the table was in a fit of laughter. The other side had stilled, admiring how well you seemed to be getting along despite Rodrick being the butt of the joke. He’d felt embarrassed for a moment but hearing your laughter had a bright grin spreading across his face which eventually broke out into laughter. Your stomach and face started to hurt from laughing for too long and you let a few desperate pants as you leaned back in your seat, arms wrapped around your stomach.

Over an hour had passed and your families couldn’t have been getting along better. Greg and Rodrick had told you endless amounts of stories. You learned about The Cheese Touch and the thought of it made you gag, imagining that moldy cheese sitting on the dirty hot blacktop for years.

You asked Rodrick about his band, which he went on and on about until Greg told him to can it. Rodrick might’ve hit him again if Mrs. Heffley hadn’t glanced over at them and scolded Rodrick.

Nearing the end of your time with the Heffleys, you hesitantly asked Rodrick if he was serious about the drum lesson. Sure, your reason was purely because you had always wanted to learn how to play but it seemed as the night went on, your reason was slipping to wanting to see Rodrick again. You didn’t want to have to wait until summer’s end to be with him. He didn’t seem like the greatest influence and you were already sure your parents weren’t too fond of him, but something about him had you drawn towards him like a moth to light.

The Heffleys were escorting your family to the door, chatter still in the air, when you turned to Rodrick. You swallowed the lump in your throat and prayed your voice would come out normal.

“So… about that drum lesson,” you started, not meeting his eyes, but you still saw the smile tug at the corner of his lips.

“Tomorrow?” he suggested quickly, stopping to face you. You looked up, your brow slightly furrowed. “O-or another day. I mean-” He was blabbering, trying not to sound eager or desperate and a grin stretched across your lips.

“Tomorrow sounds great,” you replied. He relaxed, smiling a little.

“Yeah, yeah, cool,” he mumbled, pretending to sound uninterested. You pushed him gently and he couldn’t hide the smile. You rolled your eyes at him, a light laugh falling from your lips. That sound would be stuck in his brain all night as he lied awake, admiring you and feeling like he had dreamed you up cause he wasn’t sure someone like you could be real.

Your family said their goodbyes to the Heffleys as the four of you walked out the door. You headed home, unable to lose the smile of excitement as you thought about your plans for tomorrow. You were so distracted in your thoughts that you hadn’t noticed your parents talking to you until your brother nudged you to snap you out of your daze.

“Are you alright?” your mom asked worriedly, putting a comforting hand on your shoulder. You flashed her a smile and nodded. “Well, how was your night then? Did you like them?” Then to your father, “I thought they were nice, don’t you think?” Then back to you. “How was Rodrick? I was a little worried he was a bad influence.” If you hadn’t stepped in, your mom might’ve pestered with you questions until the end of the night.

“It was fun. I had a good time,” you reassured. She smiled as you reached your front steps.

When you finally got back to your room, you reveled in the once dreaded house that seemed like a punishment. You were now filled with anticipation, wishing it would be Sunday already so you’d get to see Rodrick again. Your mind hadn’t decided what was so endearing about him. Maybe it was his desperate, miserable attempts to impress you that made you nearly giggle like a school girl or his dark shaggy hair that fell in messy strands. But you didn’t let yourself think about that for too long, saving yourself from falling down that rabbit hole.

As the cool air from your open window filled the room and the pale moonlight danced across your skin, you were coaxed into sleep, smiling as you thought about your night.

Maybe Plainview wasn’t as bad as you had believed it to be.

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a/n: well… first fic ig. i’m sorry if this is complete shit. i just felt like i should post something after having this account for 6 months and posting nothing. there are a few requests in my inbox that i do intend on getting to at some point i promise, im just a little slow with all of this 😭 let me know what you think and if you want more of these!

#rodrick heffley x reader #rodrick heffley #rodrick x reader #rodrick rules #doawk rodrick #diary of a wimpy kid rodrick #rodrick x y/n #rodrick fanfic #diary of a wimpy kid #doawk x reader #doawk #devon bostick #my fic

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