#idk soft tall girl x short angry girl??

[gettownsburnmoney]

have we as a community considered lucy x mary ann. is this anything

[weird-bookworm]

ᴇʟᴅᴇʀ ʙʀᴏᴛʜᴇʀ!ꜱᴇᴠᴇɴᴛᴇᴇɴ

HYUNG LINE MAKNAE LINE

a/n: part 2 of the abomination i posted 4 (?) weeks ago

pairing: elder brother!svt x reader

genre: headcanons, fluff, crack, comfort

word count: same as before, around 1050-ish

warnings: mentions of food, mention of fire, a couple curse words, mention of harassing (dw nothing srs), idk what can be a trigger help a girl out here 😭

ʟᴇᴇ ꜱᴇᴏᴋᴍɪɴ

LOUD™

(dolby? who's that? i only know dk 👍🏻)

coddles you with love

clingy

no concept of personal space

unexpectedly protective

your room is practically his now

puppy eyes at you for everything

as if he's the younger one and not you

randomly starts singing

*soul left your body* even though you've heard him do it your entire life

despises it when you're sad

gets adorably angry at whoever or whatever made you sad— just to see you giggle

innocent babie

(protecc him pls)

aka you're more dirty minded than he is

might be the elder but you're stuck taking care of him

elaborate skits in the middle of the night

you don't tell him but you enjoy them as much as he does

ᴋɪᴍ ᴍɪɴɢʏᴜ

puppy personified

practically a giant

you often wonder if he took your share of tall genes

25/8 teasing you about your height

"want help shorty?" annoying smirk

"i'm not short you bitch, you're tall" angry pout

*cue giggles*

picks you up randomly and scares you shitless

always ends up cooking for you though

y'all have a very playful relationship

affectionate insults are as plentiful as his clothes

a giant dork basically

gets sad when you're sad

envelops you in his arms and holds you as long as you need

so so easy to prank

and so annoying because he knows every girl you know has a crush on him

flirts with your friends to annoy you

likes to cuddle

wakes up in your room 5 days out of 7

roleplays as your blanket and refuses to move

xᴜ ᴍɪɴɢʜᴀᴏ

you're his princess

the apple of his eye

he's very very soft for you

but you're the person he's fights with the most

Savage™

The sassy siblings ✨

y'all are more twins than anything

similar fashion styles

both martial artists

both self-assured

and really good looking 👀

pretty much a package deal atp

your friends are his friends, and his are yours

you're his forever priority

forces you to meditate lol

as in wakes you up early every morning and makes you sit and meditate with him

will not let you go back to sleep

safe to say he's the only person who's seen your whiny side

ʙᴏᴏ ꜱᴇᴜɴɢᴋᴡᴀɴ

dramatic

bickering

a lot of it

even bickers with your best friend 💀

does favours for you unprompted

"stop looking at me like that, i did it out of the goodness of my heart and this is the thanks i get, hmph"

*dramatically gets mad*

while you're there looking at him like •_• -_- •_•

later uses it as leverage

"remember that one time i brought you a glass of water? you owe me!" "i didn't aSK YOU TO DO IT!!"

embodiment of getting second hand embarrassment

no kidding, pretends he doesn't know you at anything remotely embarrassing you do

✨MaTeRiAl GwOrL✨

hallabong full of sass

only and only He can bully you

you have a problem? hold his americano, he's ready to throw hands

squishy lil tangerine

ᴄʜᴡᴇ ʜᴀɴꜱᴏʟ

chill asf

takes you to movies every weekend

sends you random songs he likes or songs that remind him of you

unbothered king

comfortable silences

hang outs include not speaking and listening to music

while chilling like starfishes on the floor and staring at the ceiling

strange lil guy

except you definitely take after him

down to the style of walking

bad dad jokes

never understands the good ones 💀

occasionally loud enough to rouse the entire neighbourhood

cluelessly cute

does silly things when you're sad

like sit upside down on the sofa

or just wear one of his out-of-this-world 'outfits'

he's secretly offended you're laughing but at least mission accomplished?

ʟᴇᴇ ᴄʜᴀɴ

the only remotely normal one

often complains that you're weird

and he's lucky that he got the better genes

constant fights over who looks better

often drags you to dance with him

whines for you to cook for him

even though his cooking is perfectly fine

once felt generous and decided to help you make dinner in high school

your parents came back home to smoke in the house and the fire alarm going off

don't think he doesn't notice you going soft when he laughs

often acts like the most typical 'oppa'

then both of you cringe and laugh together

sneaks out with you every friday

weirdly mature when the situation calls for it

once punched a guy in the face because he thought he was harassing you

had to awkwardly apologise because that wasn't the case. at all.

very very common and very very petty fights

[theyreonlynoodlesmike]

i have a mad thomas x reader request where reader is forced to marry thomas (idk how just-) and is disgusted about it but eventually ends up liking him.(? idk how to explain myself:’)

No one look at me,,,,,,,,,,also this is heavily inspired by the Scarlet Letter and was supposed to be a tad darker but I copped out (also someone asked for a pregnant reader recently so this + that = this fic)

A Lie They Would Believe (Mad Thomas x Fem!Reader)

Warnings: dark themes, 1600 standards, values, and laws, affairs/cheating, ex-relationship with the pastor is mentioned, Thomas is Thomas, mentions of drinking, webs of lies, public humiliation, AFAB and Fem reader, pregnant reader, pre-marital pregnancy solved a la shotgun marriage, twisted win-win situation turns into love?, slow burn(?),

Word Count: 3.7k

You could accept your punishment with a turned cheek, you told yourself over and over again.

You could stare out at the audience of towns people, even as the sun beat on your face. You could stare out into the angry faces of the elders, into the pitying faces of your friends. Into the ashamed faces of your parents. But, you could not look at Cyrus Miller.

You'd missed your blood two months ago. You'd begged, prayed, everyday that it would come. But, the only thing that came was the morning sickness. You'd tried to hide it, tried to think of what to do. But, when you placed your hand over your stomach, you couldn't bring yourself to find the hag in the forest. And, when your mother held your spotless, white sheets in your face, you'd crumbled. You confessed in the privacy of your room as if you were confessing in church. You told her everything.

Well, almost.

"Tell us his name!" Cyrus said, a voice that you couldn't force to fall into the background. "Tell us the name of your accomplice and you shall suffer no more." He said, and you wanted to believe him. You let your eyes close for a moment, but your lips did not move. Your mouth did not open. "Tell us the father's name, so that your baby will not be born a bastard!" He said, and his hand reached out to grab your arm. His grip was strong and tight, unlike the caresses you'd become so accustomed to with him. While his words begged you to say the name, his name, the action spoke differently. You peeled open your eyes and looked up at him, at his raven hair and kind face. His dark, soft eyes. Tears pricked the corners of your own eyes, hard and glassy as you looked up at him. But, you were silent. Even as some of the townspeople yelled for you to confess.

But, how could you tell them that it was your persecutor who was the father of your child? That your pastor, the leader of this town, had sinned so egregiously? He had a wife, a daughter. You'd known both of those things when you'd fallen for him, but it was harder to ignore in the harsh sunlight. When both of them stood in front of you.

You knew you'd have to face punishment. Sex before marriage was a crime after all, completely forbidden. To think they didn't know you were an adulterer also. You didn't know what it'd be, but you knew you'd have no option but to accept it when it came. You'd already made your peace with it, made your peace with whatever God could condemn you to. Perhaps, you'd have to live alone, wear a scarlet letter on your breast. Perhaps, they'd cast you out completely, and you'd be shunned. Perhaps, they'd hang you. You touched your stomach at that thought. Perhaps, there were certain punishments you couldn't bear.

Your lips only fell open when a voice yelled,

"It was I." And a gasp fell from your mouth. Your head turned, snapped towards the voice. Towards the sea of faces that was the crowd. But, you knew that voice. "It's my child." He said, and your eyes fell on a face you knew all too well. And, at that moment, you knew exactly what type of punishment God had set out for you.

Mad Thomas.

***

The day had gone by in a blur.

Over and over in your head, one question repeated itself. Why? It was almost loud enough to drown out the constant whispers, the stories being spun by every person who seemed to have a tongue.

Union couldn't seem to stop talking about it. Of when it started, how long it'd been going on, when the pair of you had even had time to sneak off. You'd even heard a young Constance Berman whisper about how she'd always known something was going on between the two of you, only to be shushed by her older sister as you passed. As you'd been let free of the top of the church steps.

You'd been left outside, left out in the sun. Inside the church went your father, the pastor, and Thomas. You had no idea what Thomas was going to say, what lies he was going to spin.

You couldn't bring yourself to leave, to speak. You felt as though a blanket of white noise had covered your ears, covered your mind. You were surprised, to say the least. You'd thought a wave of devastation had washed over you the first moment you'd realized you were with child, but this? It made it seem like ripples in a pond. The only thing you could do was stare at the church door and wait for them to come out. But, you felt a warm arm wrap around your waist and you turned to see the face of your mother.

"Come," She said, and you looked back at the door blankly. You didn't want to leave. You wanted to be there when they came out. But, you couldn't find the words to say or the strength to keep your feet firm. So, you let her guide you away from the crowd, and towards your house.

It was only later that you were told you and Thomas were to be married by the end of the month.

***

You and Thomas were never allowed a moment alone. You didn't know whether to be relieved or not, but Thomas, a man who you quickly found was far more confusing than you thought, was playing a charade. He brought you flowers, carried your water pail for you, and even took you on chaperoned walks. You, however, were stony and stiff, barely able to contain your disgust for him. It was on your first walk that you whispered,

"Why? Why are you doing this?" And, for a moment, the incorrigible man seemed to pretend not to hear you. He glanced over his shoulder, as if the wind was at his ear instead, and you saw him cast a sly glance to the man behind them. It was one of your father's friends, walking only about two yards behind you. Finally, when he decided he was far away enough, he responded,

"Would you rather I had let them cast you out? Let you and your child starve in the woods?" Thomas said back, the most sober you'd ever heard him. It seemed that apart of your father's deal with him was that he cut back on the drink. He didn't even stumble as he walked.

"Don't pretend you did this out of charity. Why, Thomas?" You asked, and you, for only a moment, reached out to touch his arm. You pulled it back just as quick, hoping that your chaperone hadn't seen. Thomas looked down at the action, before he smirked and shook his head.

"Aren't we a perfect match?" He asked, and you gave him a look of confusion. He continued with, "You think I don't know what people say about me? Don't you see, girl? It doesn't matter if your father is the best woodworker, or the richest in Union anymore. No one would have you, or your bastard child. Except me." He said, and you almost couldn't believe the words coming out of his mouth. He continued, his words a whisper now, "Besides, it's a lie they would believe." You stared at him, flabbergasted by his words. Flabbergasted by how right he was.

Thomas had, well, a reputation. It wasn't out of character for his wedding to be one out of necessity, and perhaps it earned you some pity from the townspeople. How many women had Thomas seduced? And how many of them could truly judge you? Not to mention, his words left one thing clear.

So, it was my dowry, you thought. It wasn't an unheard of reason, and it made sense given the man you were talking to. Your father had been avoiding selling you off, even as you reached far into your womanhood. And, surely, your father would never have considered him under any normal circumstance, but now...You didn't seem to have much of a choice.

Thomas paused, picking up one of the wildflowers and handing it to you. You took it, knowing now that you had to play along. That you had to act as if he truly was the father of your child, and not someone as foreign to you as the land outside of Union.

"Your father was going to start building us a house. I was thinking right here," Thomas said, his voice only slightly louder for the chaperone to hear, but you barely paid attention. You were staring down at the yellow flower in your hands, before you glanced up at the man in front of you.

He was tall, but his hair was lighter. His cheeks were stubbly and his eyes- They were a clear blue. Almost the same shade as the sky above you. You watched as he talked, as he laid out his plan. And, while the idea of being married to anyone that you didn't love sickened you, you tried to tell yourself that it wouldn't be as terrible as you felt it would be.

***

You and Thomas sat out in the sun, where you were making a flower crown and he was rambling about one thing or the other. You'd gotten very good at pretending to be in love, even in the span of only a couple of weeks.

You gave him smiles and laughter, and he gave you gifts or stole a caress. It was enough to stir the people of Union so no one would be the wiser. And, with your father at his station a short way across the field, the pair of you could be somewhat alone. But, still within viewing distance.

"You're not listening." Thomas said, and you smiled to yourself for a moment. You looked at the finished crown, before you looked up and reached over to where he was laying on the blanket. He was half-sitting up, and you placed the flower crown atop his head as you said,

"Yes, I was." You replied simply as you adjusted it, and Thomas stared at you and gave a small scoff. He caught your hand as you went to pull it away, his grip loose. He held it almost gently, and said,

"Then kiss me." And your brows drew together. A quick,

"What?" Fell from your lips, and you watched how Thomas smiled. He laughed, letting your hand go as he said,

"So, you weren't listening-" But you were quick to interrupt him.

"Why would- Why?" The idea- the simple idea was preposterous. Why would you kiss him? In broad daylight no less? The suggestion made you nervous, made a weird feeling start in your stomach. And, you ignored how this feeling wasn't entirely unfamiliar.

"They're going to expect us to kiss on our wedding day, girl. Shouldn't we have some practice?" He said, and you thought perhaps the first time he proposed it had been kinder. You stared at him, thinking over his words. Thomas waited, reaching out to touch your skirt. It was only to pick at it for a moment, before he drew his hand away.

You couldn't tell if that was the only reason Thomas wanted to kiss you, if there wasn't some ulterior motive somewhere. You wouldn't put it past him. But, really, he was right. Not to mention, while the pair of you had been affectionate, had you been affectionate enough?

That's what was so aggravating about Thomas. He was always right. He saw clear through whatever facade anyone put up, and saw the truth. Perhaps, that's why he was such a good liar.

Perhaps, that's why he was staring at you.

"Fine." You said, before you looked over your shoulder. You were in the field, but you were more or less a public spectacle. You could hear Thomas draw closer, feel the warmth of his hand reach for your arm.

"Let them look." He said as he gave a tug on your arm, and you turned back to face him. It was strange to hear him say that, such a stark difference from what you were used to. To have him so close was different than before, but Thomas didn't close the gap. You supposed he was waiting for you to do that. He whispered, "Well?" And, finally, you did. It was a short kiss, a quick stolen one. Still, it made Thomas smile. "So chaste." He let out a small laugh, and it was your turn to scoff. "Are you sure-" And you could guess what he was going to say. You kissed him again, if only to silence him. It was deeper, firmer than your last had been. And you hated to admit that you didn't hate it. Thomas was well-practiced, and the feeling of his thumb grazing your cheek was nearly as warm as the feeling of the sun on your back. It made another feeling start, one that you tried to stamp out that very second. You pulled away again, cutting it short. Thomas, for just a moment, tried to follow you before he pulled back. He had a small smile on his face, one he didn't try to hide as he pushed his hair back.

"You're practiced." You said quietly, the closest thing to a compliment you could give him. You'd heard rumors of him galavanting with the likes of Abbi Berman and some of the others. Perhaps, there was some truth to them. Thomas glanced over, and returned the words,

"Aye, so are you." When he smiled and glanced down at your belly, you knew the jab had been intended. And, unfortunately, he'd managed to make you laugh.

***

You knew it was coming. You had prepared yourself for it. Before the wedding, the pastor would counsel both of you. And, he was going to counsel you first.

You stood in a dress your mother had made, with your corset done loosely as not to press on your stomach. You'd been staring out the window, at the cloudless day and the happy faces of your town. Why shouldn't they be happy? It was the day for a celebration.

You'd even caught glimpses of Thomas. Your mother was fussing over him, and Issac had swiped his pouch. He looked- Well, you could tell he'd been scrubbed down. Most of his teeth were still black, but in clean clothes and with a clean face...Perhaps, he didn't look terrible. You tilted your head, and, almost as if he could feel you staring, Thomas' head turned. He caught your eyes, and reflected your posture with a tilt of his own head. It made you smile, something you found was less forced the more time you spent with him. Your head turned from him when you heard someone come in.

"Wonderful day for a wedding." Cyrus said as he closed the door to the chapel, and you tried to manage a smile. "Sit." He said, and gestured to one of the pews. You did, and you both kept your distance. The chapel was dim, only lit by the light outside. The pair of you were silent for a moment, before Cyrus said, "The magistrate is here. He seems eager to start. Do you," He paused for a moment. "Do you have any doubts?" And you felt that the question was not quite as empty as anyone else would think.

You'd been staring at your hands, and you finally lifted your gaze to him. To his deep, dark brown eyes. After a moment, you found your voice.

"None at all. Thomas is- He shall be the father to his child, and he shall be my husband. I shall do my duties, and, I- I love him." It was hard to say, at least when Cyrus sat in front of you. "What is there to doubt?" You asked, your question equally as heavy. While none of you would say it plainly, you knew from the way he looked over your face that he understood you perfectly. The pair of you would never confess your secret, and you'd let the hatchet be buried. Forgotten.

"Does he know?" Cyrus asked, and you knew what it sounded like. In case any of the others were listening. Like he was asking if your soon to be husband knew you loved him. The question couldn't be more disguised. Really, his eyes said, Does he know about us?

"Yes. Or, I think he does." You replied, and you watched how Cyrus reached to touch his clean-shaven face. His face was half hidden by his hand, but you could see his eyes were disturbed. A secret was harder to keep the more people knew, but you said, "And he loves me. He'd do anything to keep this union." You told him, and you hoped he got your meaning. When Cyrus glanced at you, you guessed he did. Silently, your eyes said, If he does, Thomas won't tell. And, after a pause, Cyrus let out a sigh.

"Then, there seems little I have to counsel you on."

***

"Have you thought of a name?" Thomas asked you, and you hummed.

You were picking at your sheet, looking towards the window. It had been months, five if not nearly six. Your baby was due in only a few weeks now, and you still hadn't decided. Your husband, a word to describe him that didn't seem so weird now, laid besides you facing up towards the roof.

Thomas, well, he was not what you thought. He had a good, if not sometimes strange, sense of humor, and did not bruise easily from even the harshest words. He could take care of himself, after years of doing so, and, subsequently, you as well. Your mother and the mid-wife still came by to make sure you were in good health, but Thomas had most of it handled. He was a little lazy when it came to work, especially the work your father tried to give him, but he seemed to find that the work that came with having his own house agreed with him. The pair of you had become- Well, familiar. That was the word you would use. You couldn't say, nearly six months later, that it was still just pretending.

Still, Thomas didn't touch you in any way you wouldn't want him to, and you had to lift your head to throw a glance back to him.

"I have some ideas. Perhaps, if it's a girl," You paused, a sly grin coming to your face, "We could name her Abigail." And you watched him scoff and roll his eyes, even lift his head off of his arm for a moment as he said,

"Absolutely not." And you snickered to yourself as you went back to facing away from him. It was just a jest, a reference to an old dalliance of his, but Thomas, if anything, was fun to tease. The only issue was that Thomas was just as sharp when it came to his wit. "Y'know- Fine. Then, if it's a boy, we shall name him Cyrus." And you let out a noise of protest. You tried to roll over, declaring,

"No!" And now it was Thomas' turn to laugh. He placed a hand on your shoulder, trying to ease you back down. You let him, and even reached to hold his arm. To pull him closer. He followed, and you guided his hand above your bulging stomach as the pair of you adjusted. "Fine- Neither of those names. But, we must think of something." You told him, feeling as he stretched his fingers over where your baby grew. He held you, his warmth against your back. His hand rubbing your stomach lightly.

It made a strange sense of warmth fill you, one you couldn't blame from body-heat. And, it wasn't so terrible that you tried to push it, or him, away.

***

"She cries like no other child in Union." Thomas said as he climbed into your bed. You were supposed to be resting, healing, even weeks, nearly two months, after your child's birth. You felt like you'd been confined to your bed for so long that you were starting to become a part of it. Thomas was only here for the break your father gave him half-way through the day. Still, you smiled to yourself from where you laid on your side, and said,

"Perhaps, it is your smell that disturbs her." You said, your voice thick with sleep but a cheeky grin working onto your face. You shouldn't have prompted him, because he took the opportunity to drape himself heavily over your back.

"Oh, should I sleep outside tonight then?" He asked, and you giggled when you felt his stubble tickling your cheek.

It was already long into the day, and you'd become lazy from bed-rest. It felt far too nice to have his warmth wrapped around you, to where you nearly wanted to fall asleep. You had grown too used to it now, and you could barely imagine a night without it.

"I never said that." You responded, and turned your face back towards the softness of your pillow. You felt Thomas' hand raise, his fingertips brush against your cheek. He was being brave, especially when you felt his lips brush against your neck. It made you bite your lip, a twinge of something not so unfamiliar swirling in your belly. You wondered if he would continue. Hell, you wanted him to. But, it was nothing more than that.

Thomas, to your surprise, had more restraint than you would've assumed. He kissed your cheek, went to stand, and excused himself with,

"Your father will begin to wonder where I am." And you lifted your head to watch him step away, before you settled back down. He was clean, cleaner than he had been when he'd been sleeping in the outhouse. His hair was softer and longer, tied away from his face. And his arms seemed stronger, perhaps from the days of working with your father. He was, if you dared to think so, a kind sight to your eyes now. "Sleep. I'll be back by the time you wake." He told you, and, as he left, you found yourself hoping he was right.

[auroracalisto]

as fate will have it

request: Can I please request a Sweet Pea x sweet/innocent!fem!reader when soulmates meet, something important to themselves appears on their soulmate’s wrist as a tattoo. So since being a Serpent is so important to Sweet Pea, a Serpent tattoo appears on Y/n’s wrist, and since being loving is so important to Y/n, a heart would appear on Sweet Pea’s wrist. It would be especially cute if Y/n found out that she’s actually FP’s daughter/Jughead’s year younger sister (but was raised by her adoptive parents in the Northside and maybe FP didn’t know that he had another daughter because her birth mom never told him she was pregnant) because she has “Serpent blood” so it’s like it was fate.  Oooo also, I don’t know if this would be good to add to the plot, but it would also be interesting if Y/n’s adoptive parents told her she had to pick between them or FP & Jug, so an it’s us or them type of thing. Y/n picks FP, her birth dad, and her newfound older brother, Jughead, so she would go to live with them in the trailer.  — @kpopgirlbtssvt​

summary: request covers this 

word count: 2.4k words

warnings: rude parents?  adoption (idk if that’s something to trigger, but just to be safe).  being kicked out of home.  it’s also very possible that it’s ooc sweet pea BUT it’s fineeee

author’s notes: i wanted to clarify that it’s been like two years since i last saw the first season riverdale, so some things could be a little off.  the show is wack but i love the characters.  i also might have somewhat gone off from what the request was, and if i went off too much, just let me know and i will write something else!

Your friend quickly took her seat beside you, smiling.  "Did you hear?"

"Hear what?" you looked up from your book, slipping a piece of paper in between the old pages.  

She let out a soft giggle.  "Well, uh, I know you don't really care, but everyone else is busy—"

"—is that why you're talking to me?"

"Oh my god, no," she blushed.  "No, sorry, that came out totally insensitive, didn't it?  I just... okay, well, they're closing down the southside."

Your eyes widened a bit.  "What?"

"Yeah.  They're gonna consolidate the schools.  So everyone from the southside will be coming up here.  They're supposed to start coming in today.  You should try to see if anyone is your soulmate," she grinned.  

"Yeah, okay, but you've already found your soulmate," you sighed softly, standing up.  You had hardly touched your lunch at all.  From your book and the mention of your soulmate, you didn't want to touch it.  You wanted to meet your soulmate.  Oh, you wanted to love them like they deserved to be loved.  But here you were, finding it hard to believe that you had a soulmate.  

Your friend just smiled.  "You know I love you, right?"

You rose an eyebrow but you soon returned the smile.  "Yeah, yeah.  I know."

She just smiled before she rushed off, gods only know where.  

You stuffed your book back into your backpack, carrying your tray to empty it.  You needed to stop by your locker before your next class.  

Walking out of the cafeteria, you started towards your lockers.  New faces filled the hallway the farther you walked.  You could feel the anxiety start creeping into your veins, but not because of the southside—you had began to wonder if you would find your soulmate from the people who transferred.  

You sighed softly to yourself as you came to your locker—and you had even been prepared to get into it when you saw a man leaning up against it.  He was tall, his hair was dark, and he had gorgeous brown eyes.  He was talking to a short girl with streaked hair and another guy with equally dark hair.  

You cleared your throat to get the tall guy's attention and your blush only darkened as he looked over at you.  

"Would you mind moving?  You're on top of my locker..."

He stared at you for a moment before he nodded, pushing himself off from the locker.  But before he could move too far, a searing pain took over his wrist.  Just as quickly as it had came, it disappeared.  He quickly looked down at his wrist, only to realize that the same exact thing had happened to you.  And now, you were staring down at a serpent tattoo on your wrist, whereas a heart took its place on his own.  

The girl with streaks in her hair was smiling.  "Uuhhhh," she grabbed a hold of the other boy.  "Have fun," she quickly said, before leading him away.  

You blushed and looked up at the man.  "Uh—"

"—a northsider?" he asked, but he couldn't help his smile from forming.  He was about to tease you, but he couldn't help his happiness.  He finally found his soulmate.  "Do you know how much hell I'm gonna get for this?"

Your blush only darkened.  "I—I, well," you breathed out, but your own smile spread across your face.  "That's exciting.  I still need to get in my locker."  You were buzzing with happiness.  The boy moved out of the way and you quickly got into it, looking up at him.  He was far taller than you.  You couldn't help the grin that showed up.  

"I'm Sweet Pea," he said.  

You blushed.  "That's cute."  He rose his eyebrows.  "I mean—" you let out an awkward laugh.  "My name is [Your name]."

"It's nice to meet you, [Your name]," he blushed a bit.  He just smiled.  He would have said more, but his name was shouted from across the hallway.  He looked at you and bit his lip, before he suddenly grabbed your arm, taking a permanent marker from your locker.  He wrote down his number before he looked up at you and grinned.  "Text me, okay?"

You blushed and nodded, before you watched him leave.   

[]

That night, you were too excited to tell your parents about your day.  You finally found your soulmate.  And he was totally attractive.  And worth your love.  You had decided this just moments after he grabbed your arm to write his number down.  It felt like the stars were aligned, just for you.  Perhaps that's what it felt like when you found your soulmate—like nothing could go wrong.  

But as you walked in to your home, dropping your backpack to the floor, it was dead silent.  You walked into the dining room, seeing your parents sitting there with a couple of papers laying out.  Your mother was close to tears, but your father seemed angry.  He cleared his throat as he saw you.  

"[Your name].  Sit."

You did as you were told, beginning to frown.  You looked at your mom.  "What's going on?"

"[Your name].  Remember how we told you we had adopted you?"

You looked at your dad and nodded.  "Of course.  But that doesn't matter... because you're both my parents.  What's this about?"

"Your mother."  

You quickly looked at her, frowning.  

"Your mother fabricated a couple of papers.  She wanted a baby so badly that she would lie about who you belonged to just so she could have you."

"What?"

"You belong to FP," your dad said, staring down your mother.  You always knew that your father didn't like southsiders, but this was odd.  

"I don't belong to anyone, dad—"

"—don't," he said, frowning at you.  "Your mother decided that it was okay to adopt the child of a gang leader.  She put us in danger.  Your sister.  Your grandparents."

"What—they've never hurt anyone," you frowned at the man.  "Why would she have endangered them if they swear against violence like that—"

"—you'd be surprised," he snorted through his nose.  He clenched his jaws before he handed you the papers.  Before you could grab them, he just dropped them in front of you.  You picked one up, seeing your real birth certificate.  Your birth mother was listed, and then so was your birth father.  Your father was right—FP Jones was listed as your birth father.  

Your face paled and you looked up at him.  "What is this?  What are you trying to tell me?"

"Choose."

"Excuse me?"

"Choose.  The Jones.  Or us."

You looked over at your mother in disbelief.  "What happens if I choose you?"

"We will forbid you from talking with the Jones."

You blinked a couple of times, confusion washing over you.  "But if they're my biological family, I'd like to know them—"

"—if that's the case," your father frowned, "just go and live with them."

You stared at him, feeling your heart beat rushing in your ears.  You quickly got to your feet.  Your mother wasn't defending you.  Your father was kicking you out.  It only took a few moments for you to decide that you would leave.  You quickly rushed to the front door, grabbing your bag.  But not before you had grabbed the papers your father had sat in front of you.  The proof was in the ink—literally.  

You pulled your backpack onto your back, looking down at the papers as you pulled out your phone.  

It had been literal years since you last talked to Jughead Jones.  You had his contact, still.  At least, the one he had whenever the two of you were friends in your seventh grade year.  You began to hope that the stars were aligned for you once more as you clicked on the contact and listened to it ringing.  By the fourth ring, you were prepared to turn your phone off, but you almost gasped as you heard Jughead's voice.  

"Shh," you heard Jughead, before he said hello.  

"Jughead?  Uh, it's [Your name]—"

"—yeah, I have your contact."

"Right," you blushed.  "I, uh," you cleared your throat.  "Do you mind if I swing by your house?  I need to talk to your dad."

You didn't mention the fact that you had just been kicked out of your home.  That could come at a later point in time.  

Jughead blinked a couple of times and he leaned back in his seat.  "Yeah, of course.  When will you be here?"

"In about an hour," you said.  

"Alright.  See you then?"  

With that, he hung up.  He looked over at Sweet Pea, Fangs, and Toni.  

"Who was that?" Sweet Pea asked.  

"[Your name]."

[] 

You hadn't anticipated the walk to Jughead's house, but you still remembered the way.  It had taken you the full hour to get there from your house.  But you were there.  As you walked up to the trailer, you noticed two motorcycles parked by Jughead's dad's truck.  You walked up the stairs and knocked on the door.  You probably looked a mess—from the walk and from the cold air, you were sure you were as red as the red lipstick you always had stuffed in the bottom of your book bag.  

The door began to open and you quickly greeted Jughead, only stopping short when you realized Sweet Pea had answered.  

He smiled at you.  "Hi."

You began to blush and you smiled.  "Hi..."  

He moved out of the way and let you inside.  FP was in the living room, and he looked over at you, confused.  

"What has it been?" he asked, beginning to smile.  "Three years?"

"Four, sir," you weakly smiled.  

FP took notice and he tilted his head.  Sweet Pea frowned and led you over to sit down.  He looked at the papers in your hands as he sat on the edge of the armchair you sat on.  His eyes widened and he quickly looked over at Jughead and his father.  

"I... I wanted to tell you about this.  I don't... do you remember a Julie Harding?"

FP blinked harshly before he nodded.  "Yes."

You took in a deep breath as you looked down at the papers.  "She's my birth mother."

Jughead looked at you with a frown.  "You were adopted?"

You nodded towards him and handed FP your papers.  He took one look at the birth certificate and he looked up at you in disbelief.  "Are you serious?"

You weakly smiled, once more.  "They kicked me out when they realized you were my birth dad."

Sweet Pea's jaw was locked as he looked at you.

FP frowned.  "Well.  You're always welcome here.  I...  I can't believe this," he said.  His frown soon formed into a smile.  "I have another daughter," he breathed out.  

Jughead looked at the papers for a moment.  "We're siblings?"

"I guess so," you began to smile as well.  

Sweet Pea watched you for a moment.  You were always filled with smiles.  You were always happy, even in moments like this.  It astounded him, but he knew that he needed that in his life.  He knew that the stars were truly aligned in just the right way.  

He suddenly took a hold of your hand and you laced your fingers with his, blushing.  Sure, your parents hurt you.  But you took one look around the trailer and you realized that these people were the ones that you could truly make a family out of.  

[]

Two months down the road, you were still asking Sweet Pea to move out of the way so you could get into your locker.  But instead of him staring at you the entire time, he would just kiss your cheek or your forehead, or even your lips, and move to stand on the other side.  Which side truly depended on his mood, just like where he kissed you.  

Every time you would see Jughead, he would greet you with a smile and a short conversation, but when the two of you were with your new friends, you were truly yourself.  You found comfort in the serpents.  You found comfort in your biological family, and with your soulmate, Sweet Pea.  

Sweet Pea stood by your locker, his arms crossed over his chest as he saw you walk down the hall.  He couldn't help his frown from turning into a smile.  Before you could ask him to move, he leaned forward to kiss your cheek.  He quickly took your books and stuffed them in your already opened locker—Toni had memorized your combination and he asked her to unlock it for him.  

He took your hand.  "Come on.  I have a surprise for you."

You rose an eyebrow but you laced his fingers with his.  You tried to protest when you realized that he was about to lead you out of the school, but you stopped yourself.  FP wouldn't berate you for skipping a couple of classes.  

Sweet Pea brought you over to his motorcycle and her turned to look at you, smiling.  "Wear this," he said, handing you his helmet.  

You just blushed and did as you were told before you got onto the back of the sleek bike.  You wrapped your arms around his torso and he put on his helmet before he started his motorcycle and took off.  He drove fast, but not dangerously.  In a matter of minutes, the two of you were back at FP's trailer.  Sweet Pea helped you off and took a hold of both of your hands.  

"What—"

"I don't have anything to show you.  I just... know that your birthday is coming up soon and I wanted to celebrate alone while we can."

You blushed and gently shoved his shoulder.  

"Not that," he laughed.  "Get your mind out of the gutter.  Nah, I wanted to have a movie marathon with you, but if that's what you want—"

"—movie marathon," you blushed, taking a hold of his hand once more.  He smiled and led you into the trailer.  

He stopped in the doorway to look at you, just taking in your beauty.  He leaned forward and pressed a soft kiss to your lips.

"Did I ever tell you how thankful I am that you're my soulmate?" he asked.

You just blushed and shook your head as he let out a soft laugh and hugged onto you.  

Your soulmate acted tough in public—but around you and in private, he was a softy.  Your heart melted every time you saw him, and actions like this only strengthened your love for the man.  You wrapped your arms around his neck and smiled.  

"I love you, Sweet Pea."

His eyes widened as he heard the words, but his smile never left him.  

"I love you, too, [Your name]."

[newobsessionweekly]

Secrets🌿

Anonymous said: hey you! i love your one shots and i was wondering if you could write one where the reader is miguel’s sister or something and she’s secretly hooking up with arón until miguel finds out and gets really angry and protective so arón confesses his love to her in front of both of them? thank you so much for keeping me entertained in quarantine!! 💗💗 a/n: well, I kinda liked writing it, but I think it’s kinda lame... So, I’m sorry, I’m kinda disappointed. Love xx🌿❤️ word count:1.308 warnings: language, mention of sexual content maybe? idk bro

Arón Piper x Reader 🌿

Being Miguel Bernardeau’s little sister, you always grew up in his shadow. You both went to the same schools, and you always wanted to act, just like him. He undoubtedly received the role of Guzmán, one of the main characters in a Netflix original, Élite. On the other hand, you managed to get a small role only in the second season. It wasn’t much, but you were happy that you are able to work beside him. And since you arrived on the set and met the Élite cast, for the first time you felt like something finally belonged to you. It didn’t mattered that Miguel was here too, and he is one of the leading characters. It didn’t matter that he was on the Élite’s promoting cover. For the first time you belonged to a lovely and affectionate family. You love your family, and Miguel is wonderful when he wants, but growing up with him, being inseparable and constantly in the same place, it’s becoming annoying. He is becoming a pain in the ass.

When you initially met Arón, he was something you’ve never seen before, he was sweet, caring from the first day and he was there for you when you were struggling with the script. He’s an introvert; he’s not very good at introductions, and keeping a conversation going with a stranger it was kinda hard for him, but you were there to break the ice. You felt something about him, and you felt like you were appreciated for more than just being Miguel’s sister. You didn’t have much in common but the love for acting and modelling, but you are a very persuasive person and didn’t withdraw from the conversations, constantly asking questions. That’s how you started listening to rap music and added on your movie list many interesting ones that you never thought you will watch. 

You thought that all the hugs you shared were normal, and you convinced yourself at some point that is normal, because he is a sensitive person and would do that with anyone. You saw him rubbing María’s back at the table reading of the season one’s final episode when everything became too sad and then hugging Ester at the end of a very hard scene. You thought this was the way he is expressing his emotions, being physically there for the person in need. But soon he made the first step and kissed you in the make up trailer where the two of you were discussing about the script. You had had a scene with Itzan, and you were supposed to make the first step and kiss his character. Though you are an extrovert, when it comes to this kind of things, you are shy. Arón wanted to help you and he thought that kissing you was the best way to show you there’s no big deal in kissing someone you just met. He encouraged you to kiss him first, to catch some confidence, and you accepted, thinking that a simple kiss wouldn’t hurt anyone. But after that kiss followed another one with the purpose of calming you down, helping you enter your character easily, and then another one when he was so angry on the person he spoke on the phone, you feared he might be able to go after them and beat them up and then another kiss and another one. 

The party after the premiere of season two found you and Arón in the toilet area, unable to stop the kiss. He suggested to meet outside and move everything to his place and maybe it was the drinks you had or the crush you had on him, but you agreed. You lied to Miguel about going to some friend’s place as Arón disappeared and waited for you on his car. Things got complicated from that night, and you couldn’t stop thinking about him and your heart skipped a bit for every time you heard his name. You started get clumsy around Miguel and tried to hide your phone and not to let any emotion betray you. When he talks to Arón on the phone or talks to you about him, you would prefer to excuse you and hide your face because of that stupid smile that is blossoming on your face everytime you hear his name. You started to got feelings for him, and it wasn’t only a hook up anymore for you.

This day on set was very short for you, and Arón has one more scene and after that he can be exempted, so he suggested waiting into his changing room so you could leave together. You entered the room after your scene was completed and Arón embraced you as soon as you closed the door. 

He was dressed in Ander’s Las Encinas uniform, looking so stunning in it. With his curls perfectly arranged and his eyes looking so soft at you, he cupped your cheeks. 

“We have five minutes before I’ll go for my scene.” he said as he smiled at you and kissed you again. 

“I’m not making out with you here.” you laughed and paired your arms behind his neck as you got up on your toes to try and be at the same level as he is.

He is so tall and handsome, has lovely eyes and a warm heart. His lips over yours are the best feeling in the world and just staying in his arms would calm you even in the angriest moments. He has a humor exactly on your liking and a sarcasm so naturally emanated that you could say he was born with it. But the moment of dreaming ended up too soon, as you heard Miguel’s voice behind the door.

“...The best boxer in the world. Please give it up for... Arooon Pipeer!” your brother commented imitating the voice of a ring announcer, holding up his phone, trying to make an Insta story. But his face dropped from that beautiful smile of his at the sight of you in Arón’s changing room. “What the fuck?”

You hided behind Arón and hoped that Miguel won’t be mad. Yes, you did that behind his back, but only because it is nothing much and you feared his reaction. And maybe his reaction weren’t a bad one if you would have told him from the start. But told him what? That you’ve been fucking his screen colleague and friend? Yeah, he would be delighted to know that.

“Don’t get angry!” Arón spoke first. 

“This is my sister! What the fuck are you doing with my sister?” Miguel approached angrily and you get out of behind Arón.

“Come on, don’t be like that.” you came between.

“You, shut up.” he pointed his finger at you then faced Arón. “You could’ve made out with any girl you wanted. Why the fuck my sister, man?” Miguel was screaming at his face, with anger pulsing through his body.

“Because I’m in love with (y,n)! That’s why your sister! I wouldn’t made any move if I wouldn’t be sure about my feelings. I would never made out with a girl, especially your sister, just for fun. I’m not a dickhead, you know? I am aware that you are not cool with me being in love with your sister, but man, give me a fucking chance to prove you I am right for her.” 

Arón screaming at your brother’s face let you speechless, all of you. Álvaro and Omar were smiling from the door's threshold and Miguel’s face softened as you turned your head to Arón and smiled.

“I am in love with him too.” you looked Miguel in the eyes as your hand clenched with Arón’s. He leaned and kissed you in front of your brother. 

“Alright, fine! We’re gonna discuss it later, now we have a scene to film so let’s go!” Miguel frowned, holding your sight and shaking his head in disapproval. -------------------- Let me know what do you think about it xx

[queen-bunnyears]

Happier ~ Roger Taylor

So I wrote this in my math class, enjoy the little sad, angsty piece. Why the smut bit on the end? I don't know, I was writing and smut happened. I originally wrote this for @bensroger ‘s writing challenge, but somebody had already taken the prompt. I decided to still finish this piece, so idk if you want to read it, but like you say on your blog, fortune favors the bold.

Pairing: Roger Taylor x F!Reader

Wordcount: just over 3K

Warnings: Angst, breakup, cursing, some smut (fingering) 18+ please

“Ain’t nobody hurt you like I hurt you”

The bedroom door slammed shut behind you as you ran to the kitchen, grabbing your notepad and agenda, leaving him alone in the bedroom. You heard Roger opening the door and stomping after you.

“Don’t leave Y/n. Please.” He begged, and you stood still for a second, your bag in your hand. Roger never begged. Tears clouded your vision, streaming down your cheeks, staining them with your mascara.

“I have to.” Roger flinched at your harsh words, and your sad tone of voice. You went to the front door, leaving him in the kitchen.

“You hurt me more than anyone has ever hurt me, Roger!” With those words you walked out, closing the door and leaving into the dark London night.

Ofcourse, he tried running after you, but when he was on the street, you had already disappeared, leaving him alone in the middle of the street, where he finally broke down in tears, realizing he had just lost the thing in life he loved the most.

“Ain’t nobody need you like I do”

Roger was a mess. He didn’t eat, didn’t sleep, and he hadn’t left his house in a week, only once to get some groceries. The band worried about him, scared that he wouldn’t recover from this loss. But after a week, he left his apartment for the first time, to go out with Freddie. The girls who approached them were gone in a minute, because Roger snapped at their flirty behaviour. Freddie was concerned, but he thought it would just take some time for Roger to recover from his heart break. Little did he know, Roger needed a lot more than time. He needed you.

“Only a month we’ve been apart”

It was just over four weeks since you walked out on Roger. You were already used to being alone, seeing as you were more often than not alone when he was off on tour, or recording an album. You thought that would make it easier, but it definitely didn’t.

With Roger, a big part of your heart left. The Roger shaped hole in your chest aches every minute of the day. You lived on auto pilot, taking on so much work that you didn’t have time to think too much, and when your friends told you they had a night out planned, you gave in.

So here you were, dressing up for a night out in the bar and to drink and chat to your friends. You had to move on from Roger, how impossible it may seem.

Hours later in a shabby bar, your best friend shouted over the music. “You should find someone new. Another man to focus on. Sarah has a studymate who is looking for a girl.”

“I saw you in another’s arms”

The boy you went on a date with was nice enough. Your friends had told you last night when you went out it would be good for you to go out with someone again. So you halfheartedly agreed to a date with a studymate from a friend of yours. It was nice, he was kind, and very decent. The complete opposite of Roger with his sleek short brown hair, and tall posture. He was a lot taller than you were, Roger and you were about same height.

Dave was sweet, yeah, even a bit funny. But he didn’t make jokes that made you flustered with embarrassment, or that got your blood rushing through your body up to your cheeks. He didn’t say things that made you shiver down to your core. He wasn’t adventurous, he was very predictable even. You had decided to give it a chance, seeing what the opposite of Roger Taylor had to offer.

And surprisingly, you had a great time tonight. He took you to a lovely Italian restaurant, were you ate some pasta, and he had chosen lamb with potatoes. Roger absolutely detested lamb. Why was it, that your mind always returned to Roger?

Dave offered to go to a pub after the dinner. He behaved almost perfect, having paid for your meal, and now offering to pay for the drinks. He drank a sprite, no alcohol, because he had already drank a glass of wine, he explained. You nodded, understanding the thought behind it, and appreciating his willingness to stay sober.

Dave wrapped his arm around your shoulder in the pub, and kept cracking jokes you laughed at, liking the small talk he made. When you and Roger met for the first time you both got insanely drunk and shagged the same night. Dave just dropped you off at your place and left with a soft kiss pressed to your cheek. The comparison was insane, the two were really each others opposites.

“You look happier, you do”

The minute you walked into the pub that night he saw you. Roger sat in the back, facing the door, and he couldn’t get out of the pub, because he would have to walk past you and your new guy. He was sure he couldn’t handle that, so he ordered another beer for him and his friend. He didn’t have a choice, so he decided to stay put until you and your date left.

He studied your face from behind his beer glass, noticing that the boy was unmistakably your date. He had the tiniest bit of hope that he would be a colleague or something like that, nut the man wrapped his arm around you in a way that said date, not acquaintances. He saw you throw your head back in laughter when the man said something. You looked happy. Happier than he thought you looked in a long time. He wrapped his hand around his glass. You leaned into the boys chest. Rogers grip on his glass tightened, and the expression on his face was unmistakably sad. His friend asked if he was okay.

“Until then I will smile and hide the truth”

Roger said he was fine. His smile was a bit strained, but his friend pretended not to notice. Roger didn’t want it to show, not even to his closest friends. Brian and John were angry at him anyways, for making a mistake that cost him you. They also felt sorry for him, they saw how much it affected him, and they got a bit sad. Freddie said he would throw Roger parties, have him feel better in a week. Needless to say that didn’t work.

“My friends told me one day, I’ll feel it too”

Two days after the incident in the pub Roger met up with Brian. Brian was shocked to see the state Roger was in. He hadn’t seen Roger since the night you broke it off. Roger told him about you in the pub, sadness evident in his eyes.

“She looked so happy Brian. Just two days ago, we have only been apart for a month, how is she so happy?”

“One day you will be happy to again.” Brain tried to tell him, but he didn’t sound secure. You were Rogers love of his life, he had told you that time after time, and the break up was too much for him to handle. Tonight they played a gig in the pub where you and Rog met for the first time, Roger had planned it months ago, as a surprise for your anniversary. Sadly there was nothing to celebrate anymore, but they couldn’t cancel the gig.   

“Did she notice you?” Roger shook his head, explaining how he stayed out of view until you left. Brain just hugged him and offered to go out for drinks before the gig tonight.

“Everything is reminding me of you”

You and Dave had been going on dates for a while now, and you surprisingly enjoyed his company. So when he asked you on a date for valentines day you said yes almost immediately. Granted, it took everything you had to not continuously compare him to Roger. Sometimes it felt more like going out with a friend than like going on a date, but you pushed those thoughts away successfully. You shrugged the thought of Dave and Roger off and put on your heels.

This date would be the sixt, and you were hoping for a bit more action. You had put on some very cheeky black lingerie, hoping that might spice it up a little. Dave had been very decent, to put it nicely. He had only kissed you three times, slow and with minimal use of his tongue. You missed the fire Roger would ignite in you when he kissed you hard and passionate. But you had a good feeling about tonight, and you even softly sang when putting on your flowery dress. The high black heels were a risk, because you were going to a small concert Dave had told you, but if they had the effect you desired the pain would be worth it.

When Dave picked you up he gave you some roses, and he complimented you on your outfit. The ride to the bar was nice, and you held your hopes high for the night. But when you stood outside the bar something felt bad. It was the bar Roger and you first met, but you decided that wasn't what haunted you. The faint music sounded nice, and you couldn’t find anything wrong in the crowd or the smell of alcohol. Dave looked handsome in his white button up and black trousers. 

When you walked in the band started a new song, and you froze in place. It was way too familiar. You silentlybegged for a cover band, but the minute you focused on the sounds of the drum you knew that it had to be queen. Only Roger played like that, you could pick his style out thousands. Dave took you to the bar, not noticing your shocked state.

“And if he breaks your heart like lovers do”

It took you three drinks to calm down a bit. Maybe he wouldn’t see you, you told yourself. The bar was crowded enough. The seats dave had chosen were in the back, Roger was way too blind without his glasses to spot you over there you thought. The irony, how his poor eyesight might be your saviour tonight. You smiled up at Dave, who had been telling you a boring story about his work you couldn’t concentrate on.

“Shall we dance?” As if on cue, they started playing a new song. Doin’ Alright. Fuck, it had always been your favourite. You knew it off the top off your head. Dave nodded and let you drag him to the dancefloor. You danced slowly, letting the music take over.  

“The band is really good.” He commented. You agreed, trying your best not to show him the pain you felt at every familiar sound the drums made.

“That’s why I brought you here, I heard their music before and i thought you might like it too.” Another flash of pain. Dave didn’t mean to, but he pressed all the wrong buttons. You tried to focus on the purpose of coming here, and danced a bit closer do Dave.

“But the players aren’t really my type.”

“Not mine either.” A lie, you loved them.

“Of course not, you are way too good for sinners like them.” You smiled thinking it was a joke. Your smile faded the moment you saw the serious look on his face.

“I am sorry for the kind of people that are here. I hoped for valentine couples like us. I didn’t think the crowd would be this bad. I hope you won’t let it ruin your night and that the music makes up for it.”

You look up, confusion written all over your face. He pointed at a few girls dressed in shorts and low cut blouses.

“They all dress like prostitutes. Probably none of them are still a virgin, but married? No way. Luckily you are nothing like them.”

You felt your heart break a little with each word he said. You thought Roger left it so bad it could never be broken again, but Dave just proved that wasn’t true. You noticed you were unknowingly backing away from him. He tried to grab your hand.

“What is it love?”

You just turned around and ran. Through doors, down a couple of stairs and up again. When you finally stood still you were in front of a door. You found yourself opening it, looking outside to a small roof top. You decided Dave probably wouldn’t find you here, and stepped out. You sunk to the ground, picking a cigarette from a package someone left on the small table. Fuck, you needed a lighter. The tears in your eyes finally fell down, and your chest moved heavily with your sobs.

“Know that I’ll be waiting here, for you”

Roger was shocked when he peeked through the door that was left open. Small sobs came from the rooftop, and he thought he was hallucinating when he thought he recognised your hair and dress. You sat on the ground, your heels beside you on the ground. You had found a lighter on the rooftop, and managed to smoke five cigarettes in the fifteen minutes you had been on the roof. You were scared to go back down, and when the door opened you were happy you didn’t.

“Babe? What happened?” Rogers voice changed when he saw you had been crying. He looked worried.

“Don’t worry about it Rog. Just some asshole.” You angrily stomped out your cigarette, immediately grabbing a new one. Why someone left an almost full package on the roof didn’t even bother you, you didn’t care whose cigs you were smoking, as long as you could smoke.

“It doesn’t look okay? Jesus how many have you smoked? The package was full when I left it here.” You looked at him, and started crying again. You didn’t want to, but he looked so caring, and you realised you weren’t over him at all. The last month proved that.

“I think six or seven, I didn’t keep track.”

“Okay, now tell me what happened?” He asked, looking at your tearstained face.

“I had a date. Dave was his name, we have been going on dates for two weeks now. He was so disrespectful about you and the band and your fans.” You sniffed.

“You left your date because he was rude about us?”

“No because, well his insults…”

“What was it? Was he disrespectful towards you?”

“Rog, it’s just. I am so stupid for only finding this out now. The signs were there, I just didn’t see them.” You tried to explain.

“You are confusing? I don’t understand?”

“He was, well I think he doesn’t really approve of sex before marriage. He called some of the dancing girls sluts. And I, I just felt so hurt. He doesn’t know me, but if he new all his respect and feelings towards me would vanish.”

Roger gently picked the cigarette from your fingers. “I think you have smoked enough. And for the record love, being a virgin doesn’t matter to me.”

But my darling, I am still in love with you

He brought the cigarette to his lips. You looked at his mouth wrapped around the small thing. A wave of love and lust came over you. Fuck Dave, this was Roger, he was real and sweet and loving. You took the cigarette from his lips and threw it on the floor.

“Kiss me.”

“What?” Roger choked on his words. “Why?”

“Because I love you, and I forgive you. And I need you, so fucking kiss me right now or I will go back to the bar and find someone else to shag tonight.”

“Fuck I love you too, and I am so sorry.” You stood up, threatening to walk to the door. His hands on your hips stopped you, and he hungrily kissed you. You kissed him back, your hands all over him, inspecting if anything was different since you broke up. Finally your hands settled on his butt, you squeezed them in his back pockets. You bucked your hips slightly to meet his, trying to get some friction where you needed it most.

“Christ love, if you keep doing that I will have you right here on the roof.” Roger swore, breaking the kiss to take a deep breath.

“Is there a lock on the door?”

“Eh.” He fumbled on the door behind him. “Yes.”

“Lock it and fuck me.” He kissed you again, trying to choose what he wanted to do first with you. His kisses were feverishly and needy, his hands were already at the hem of your dress, touching up your bare legs. You shivered with need.

“Rog get on with it.” He softly let his fingers sway over your inner thigh, earning a soft moan in his ear. He kissed down your neck, working his wonders with his mouth on the tender skin.

“New undies? Christ these are so beautiful. You are so beautiful.” Roger said when he hoisted up your dress so he had easy access to your clothed core.

“Why people would want to wait until after marriage is beyond me.” He mused, ghosting his fingertips over your underwear. You whined, wanting at least some of the tension in your core eased. He quickly obeyed, pushing your underwear to the side.

“So wet, and all for me. Not for that stupid date of yours?” He teased, while sliding a finger through your folds. Before you could answer he pushed one in, slowly pumping in and out of you, earning deep sounds of pleasure that fell from you lips. One finger turned into two, and two into three, and within minutes he had you shaking underneath his touch, begging him to make you come. His other hand kept you standing against the door, and you were sure that if he let go you would fall down. You felt the knot in your stomach grow with every move his fingers made. God, Roger knew how to touch you, how to have you trembling under his touch.

“Come for me love, let go.” Roger groaned, and that was enough to send you over the edge, gasping his name. He held you close as you came down from your high while softly stroking your hair.

“Such a good girl. I love how you react to my touch.” When your head was clear enough to think straight again you started fumbling on his belt. You connected your lips again, needing to feel his love as much as possible. The kiss was sloppy and needy, but full of love and admiration.

“Roger!” Brian shouted from down the stairs.

“Not right now Brian!”

“The place is going to close in a minute.” His words made Roger break the kiss and he put on his trousers again.

“At home Princess?” You nodded, smoothing your dress.

“At home.”

[halfbloodglader]

Afraid (Gally)

Gally x Reader - 1,363 words

Request; A Gally x Reader where Gally is hesitant to talk to her after they find out he’s still alive. Something about realizing why he was so mean back in the glade but has a chance to start again

Tbh, I was never a huge fan of Gally’s character, but then after seeing TDC I died. His story is actually pretty saddddd ;-;

The moment she saw that group of boys drive by, all siting on top of the vehicle, her body tensed. There was a familiarity radiating from one of those bodies. The way he sat, the way he held the gun, the way his masked face followed hers through the crowd.

Her suspicions were risen higher when those same people attacked them. Out of nowhere, she and her friends had hands over their mouths and were being forced into the backs of the vehicles. Though Y/N kicked and thrashed, deep down she recognized the hands which tried to restrain her. They were gentle, but still firm, and Y/N could tell he was trying to not hurt her.

She knew when she heard him speak. The vans stopped moving and the doors flung open. Y/N took the opportunity to send her foot careening into shins the boy trying to hold her back, causing her to topple out of the back of the van onto the cement.

“Shit, shortie.” The boy muttered under his breath. (Lol sorry if you’re not short, but Gally’s supposed to be tall so idk)

Gally. Back in the Glade, Gally had always called her that. It was impossible. He was dead.

Y/N froze, still sprawled out on the ground, Jorge screaming and punching some other boy just a few feet away.

“Gally?” She whispered, brows furrowed. Her convict stopped for a moment and stared down at her, but then bolted off to the front of the crowd. Begrudgingly, she got up and dusted herself off, eyes never leaving that boy at the front of the crowd.

Brenda whispered something in Y/N’s ear, causing her attention to be diverted for a few seconds. When she looked back, the mask shrouding the face she suspected to be Gally’s was torn off.

“Hey, greenie.” He sounded gruffly, looking to Thomas. For a split second, his eyes met the hers and then darted away.

A fight broke out between the two, but Y/N just stood, completely paralyzed. Her mind was racing in so many different directions, she didn’t know what to say, what to do, or what to even believe anymore.

After a while, Thomas and the others pushed past Gally to follow one of the other men to meet some guy named Lawrence. Jorge tugged at Y/N’s oversized coat to ensure she followed.

As Y/N passed Gally, his head was lowered shamefully. She scanned his face, checking to see if it really was him, but there was no denying his distinct features. (Cough eyebrows cough) The moment Y/N’s gaze left his face, she felt a hand graze her own.

A tightness fell upon her chest, heart racing, but she didn’t dare look back. Instinct took over and she quickened her pace, jogging up to Newt and walking at his side.

Gally was left standing in defeat. Why couldn’t he just look her in the eyes? Speak to her? He was going to have to sooner or later. Why was he so ashamed? It wasn’t really his fault Chuck was dead. But, maybe, he wasn’t ashamed at all. He was afraid. Afraid because after being gone so long, maybe Y/N had stopped caring about him.

Y/N rummaged about Lawrence’s lair like room while Thomas tried to make some sort of deal. Once he finally did, he was forced to choose who would go with him into the city. He chose Newt, like everyone expected, and Gally began to lower a ladder into the tunnels below.

“Y/N comes too.” Gally demanded quietly, almost cowardly.

“I said two, Gally.” Lawrence snarled.

“I know. But I don’t trust these two shanks to memorize their way through the tunnels. Trust me.” He defended his case.

Lawrence grimaced and looked to the small girl at Brenda’s side. “Her? The twig?”

“Yes. Now lets go.” He waved to Thomas and Newt before disappearing into the tunnels. Y/N followed right behind, knowing she had no other choice.

Gally still refused to even bat an eye at Y/N as the group traversed the city. The only contact he made was helping her clamber up over a wall which she was too small to overtake herself. After everyone was over, they began their journey up the staircases hidden within the colossal wall encompassing the city.

A cool breeze blew against the group as they stepped out onto a ledge, the whole city glowing beneath them. Newt and Thomas took turns peering through a telescope at the WICKED facility while Y/N sat with her legs hanging over the edge, looking down.

Finally gathering the courage, Gally seated himself beside her. “Sorry we kidnapped you.”

“You’re lucky I only kicked your shins.” She snapped.

A small smile broke on Gally’s face. Y/N hadn’t changed one bit. Her hair was a little longer since the last time he’d seen her, a few more scars on her exposed skin, but her character remained unchanged.

“Yeah, thanks for that.” He laughed lightly, a pressure on his chest being released. At least she hand’t pushed him off of the wall yet. Thomas sure would have.

“I still can’t believe you’re alive.” Y/N muttered, fiddling with the bandages wrapped around her hands.

“That’s what everybody’s been saying.” He rolled his eyes, then reached for Y/N’s hand. She jolted back a little, causing Gally to finally look her in the eyes and send a worried glance. He’d almost forgotten those soft Y/E/C eyes. “What happened?”

“I punched through some glass cause Frypan got stuck in the truck after he flipped it.” She grumbled, taking her hand back.

Gally scoffed, the small smile on his face still refusing to fall. “Never thought I’d see you again. Yet here you are, punching through windows and all.”

Y/N smiled a little too. “Sorry we treated you like such shit back in the Glade.”

Gally shrugged and kicked his legs back and forth a little as they dangled beside hers. “I deserved it.”

“No you didn’t.” Y/N said back, earning a confused glance from the former builder. “You’re not a bad person. You were just scared and used anger to hide it.”

“How’d you?—“

“C’mon Gally, you don’t think the other boys did it to? You got angry, Minho got sassy, Newt got defensive, and Alby got despondent. All of those are just defence mechanisms.” Y/N explained.

“And what’d you get?” He asked curiously.

Y/N sighed. “No clue. Hopeless for sure, though.”

“I think you got selfless. So busy caring about the rest of us, you didn’t have time to stop and think about the things that bothered you.” Gally said honestly, looking to his friend who sat processing his words.

“Maybe.” Y/N pursed her lips, staring down into the abyss below.

“If we make it out of this—“ Gally suddenly straightened up. “Where do we go?”

“Vince, the guy who brought us here, has this ‘paradise’ in the works. I guess there.” Y/N said.

Gally nodded. “Sounds alright.”

“You won’t have to be afraid anymore.” Y/N told him, looking up.

“Not if you’re around, shortie.” He grabbed her bandaged hand and intertwined his fingers with hers. Despite all they had been through back in the Glade, how he had treated his friends, and how he had killed Chuck, Gally was glad to have his friends back. They were the closest thing he would ever have to a family.

“We’ll make it out.” He hoped his assurance would prove true. He was tired of running, tired of fighting, tired of losing people.

It took a near death experience for him to realize how much he cared about the girl from back in the Glade. And so, he wanted to start anew, in a place where he didn’t have to hurt others in order to feel safe.

The home he had once known may have burned to pieces before his eyes. Most of the people he’d grown up with in that box may have been gone now. But, she was still here, the foundations on which he could build a new home.