♡ Rodrick Heffley x Reader One Shots ♡

♡ glue ♡ (masc) ♡

You grabbed your lunch tray, giggling about something stupid with your friends as you made your way to your lunch table. You all sat down and begin picking at the "food" that they served you. You made some small talk with your little freind group until you happened to look up from your tray to see the bane of your existence.

Rodrick Heffley.

"Ugh. Loser alert," you rolled your eyes. You pointed with your fork across the lunch room. Rodrick was strolling around the room with a few of his buddies, taping up some papers on the walls. They were no doubt for another one of their awful gigs for his shitty band.

"Look at him," you sneered, "With his stupid hair and dumb green jacket. He wears it all the time, like seriously dude. Ever heard of a shower?" You and your friends snickered as you joked about the boy. "He thinks he's so cool huh?" You glared at him. Your friends went on talking about something else-school or girls, or boys for that matter-and you stood up, making your way to the nearest trash can to throw your tray.

Unfortunately, the nearest trash can was right next to the other nearest trash can. Rodrick.

"Yeah, it's gonna be sick, we actually know more than two songs this time-" he was talking to some kids about his apparent "gig" this weekend. You let out a sigh, aggressively throwing your trash in the bin. Rodrick turned to face you, his smile dropping into a small smirk once he laid eyes on you.

"Oh well if it isn't annoyance incarnate," he greeted.

"Nice to see you too, asshole," you replied, crossing your arms and leaning against the wall to your right. His friends went off, leaving the two of you to bicker, like you always did.

"Coming to our gig this weekend Y/n?" He asked in a teasing tone, holding out one of his flyers to you.

"Oh yeah. I'll be sure to bring some extra tomatoes to throw at you," you replied sarcastically, leaning forward.

"Bringing food into it huh? Kinky," he smirked. You grumbled, grabbing the stupid flyer out of his hand.

"You're lucky I don't take every one of these flyers and burn them all to ashes," you hissed, crumbling the paper in your hands. "If I do happen to drop by whatever sad garage you're playing in this weekend, you're dead," you stomped, throwing the paper at his head. The balled up paper anticlimactically bounced against his hair and fell to the floor.

"Wow. Vicious today," he hummed amused, turning back to the wall to put up another one of his papers. You huffed, figuring that there was really nothing you could do intimate and embarrass him. Except for one thing...

"You know you didn't seem so confident and smug last weekend," you mumbled. He froze.

"Huh?" He replied, turning his head towards you.

"You know, in the back of your van? You were so helpless then," you recalled, looking at your nails nonchalantly.

"H-Hey, it had been a while okay...And it's not like you were exactly holding back," he whispered, cheeks turning red.

"What's wrong Rodrick? Getting a little flustered?" You asked, leaning in closer and whispering in his ear. He shivered, his eyes trained on the wall in front of him as he tried to keep calm.

"N-no. Shut up," he pulled away hiding his face. You let out a small chuckle.

"So pathetic," you leaned in closer. His look of distaste returned, and he finally finished posting up the flyer.

"You're such a tease," he muttered.

"And you're a dork," you spit back.

"Nerd," he retorted, stepping closer.

"Loser," you challenged, taking a step yourself.

"Dweeb."

"Shut up," you hissed then turned away, fearing that you were getting too heated. You grumbled. "Bathroom. Five minutes." You began to walk away, not before flipping him off. "Be there, idiot."