before I start I love your work youâre literally my favourite writer on tumblr atm :)
(I never do requests so I might be a bit stiff đ)
I was wondering if you could do something where the reader is Rodricks neighbour and one of his best friends. And itâs 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 Iâm waffling atp)
aww this is so cute i love this idea and tysm!!
a/n: iâm sorry this is so lazy and poorly edited, iâve just been so swamped with work but i didnât wanna wait any longer to write this cause itâs such a cute idea.
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Greg and Rowley were getting tossed around in the back of Rodrickâs 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 friendâs younger brother. But you were over the feeling as Rodrick air-drummed along to the song, nearly crashing the car for the millionth time. Youâd gotten used to his reckless driving and if anything, you enjoyed it like it was some rollercoaster.
The van slammed to a stop at Rodrickâs 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 didnât 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 wasnât the biggest fan of either of them but you didnât mind them and the sinking feeling of guilt started to return as you watched them stumble out the car.
âGuess he shouldnât have taken out the seats in the back,â you commented, grabbing Gregâs backpack that had been thrown around.
âYa think?â Greg replied, pissy and sarcastic. Rowley scrambled to his feet, swinging his backpack onto both shoulders.
âMaybe I can convince Rodrick to let me drive next time, alright?â you suggested.
âOnly if youâre better than that,â Greg scowled, glaring at Rodrick who was running inside.
âBe nice,â you warned.
âWhy?! Rodrick nearly killed us!â Greg defended.
âHeâs my best friend like Rowley is yours. Be nice or I wonât do you a favour and ask Rodrick if I could drive.â 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.
âYou know, maybe I should drive next time,â you told him, going to the passenger seat to grab your backpack.
âWhat? No way,â Rodrick replied without missing a beat. Your backpack hung from one shoulder as you closed the car door.
âWhy not?â you questioned.
âMy van, my keys,â he said, dangling his keys in the air. âI drive.â
âYeah, well one day youâre gonna end up killing Greg and Rowley back there,â you added, shooting him a disapproving look.
âSo?â he retorted. You pushed his shoulder, rolling your eyes and shaking your head as you hid a smile.
âYouâre a douche, you know that?â you laughed, heading towards your house (which was right beside Rodrickâs). 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.
âWell, chicks dig bad boys,â 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 werenât 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 Heffleyâs 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, Rodrickâs 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 didnât feel like a brother to you either considering the way you saw Rodrick and Greg relentlessly bicker and fight. You werenât like that with Rodrick. Sure, you teased one another but never fought in the way youâd watched Greg and Rodrick fight. You loved Rodrick, not in a brotherly way or in a âiâm in love with you, and i know that love is just a shout into the void, and that oblivion is inevitableâ 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 youâd 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 couldnât help but tap the spine of the book along to the rhythm until you lost all interest in the bookâs entirety. You tossed it aside, staring blankly at the wall in front of you. Normally, it wouldâve 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 oâclock, 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.
âThat boy, Rodrick, is honking outside. I just put your sister to bed and now sheâs up, crying,â your mom frowned. You pursed your lips briefly and glanced at the door.
âSorry, mom,â 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. âQuit honking, or my momâs gonna kill you,â 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.
âGet in then, or Iâll honk again,â Rodrick joked and you rolled your eyes, smiling, before willingly getting in the passenger side.
âI shouldâve asked, where exactly are we going?â 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.
âI just wanted to take a drive,â he replied simply, sounding a little sheepish, which wasnât like him. Taking drives with him wasnât an unusual thing per se, but the way he seemed quieter and damn near stunned around you hadnât fit his typical demeanor. Quite frankly, it worried you.
âDonât you have a curfew?â you asked. He tapped the wheel, looking nearly everywhere but you. He nodded cautiously.
âYeah, 9 oâclock,â he muttered. You laughed a bit, hoping it would lighten the mood or ease the tension that was weighing a ton.
âWell then, Rodrick, I-â but he interrupted.
âHave you ever liked anyone?â 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.
âWhatâs that got to do with anything?â you questioned, avoiding answering. He drew in a sharp breath.
âI was just wondering,â he replied. You bit the inside of your cheek, hesitating on your response.
âWhy, you like someone?â 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?
âI donât know,â he whispered. âI shouldnât,â he added, his voice going even quieter.
âWhat do you mean you shouldnât?â 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. âY/n, I-â 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.
âI like you,â he spoke, voice muffled by his hands. Your jaw went slack and eyes went wide.
âWhat?â you asked quietly, not because you hadnât heard but because you couldnât fathom the fact he liked you of all people.
He lifted his face out of his hands and repeated himself, louder this time. âI like you.â Your gaze softened.
âRodrick,â 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.
âYeah, no, I get it,â 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. âIâll take you home. Forget this ever happened, alright?â 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.
âRod, I, um, I didnât mean for you to take it like that.â You desperately racked your brain for any of the right words that seemed to be forming on the tip of your tongue but you couldnât deliver it properly. âTo be honest, I donât know how I feel.â 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 hadnât noticed when Rodrickâs 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. Youâd 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 didnât 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 Rodrickâs face as you walked away, you mightâve 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 couldnât 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 werenât sure youâd be able to maintain for long.
âMy mom picked them, I didnât know what you like,â 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 Rodrickâs 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.
âRodrick,â 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 didnât trust most of her advice but took her ideas and turned them into The Rodrick Way. Except for the flowers. That was all his momâs idea.
âWanna take a drive?â
âââ
a/n (again): this was kinda lazy and i hate this but i felt bad for postponing posting this for so long and i canât keep rereading this and trying to fix it đ anyway, i loved the request so much!
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