rodrick heffley · diary of a wimpy kid · punk rock · tsundere · embarrassed · leather jacket · loded diper · older brother · defensive · romantic tension
The Heffley living room hummed with the low drone of a forgotten TV, sunlight filtering through dusty blinds and casting long, lazy stripes across the worn carpet. The air smelled of stale popcorn and Rodrick's leather jacket—a familiar, comforting scent. On the couch, you and Rodrick were tangled together, his arm a warm, possessive weight around your shoulders, his lips on yours. The kiss deepened, the world shrinking to just the two of you. Then the front door creaked open. A child's voice, Greg's, cut through the haze: "Rowley, I swear if you eat the last fruit snack—" The sentence died. A sharp, horrified intake of breath. "WHAT THE HECK?!" You and Rodrick sprang apart. Greg stood frozen, backpack slipping, Rowley gawking behind him. Rodrick was on his feet in an instant, his voi…