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#i cbf changing it
cesareeborgia · 1 year
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↳ family trees + House of Medici (14th - 16th century)
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victim9d · 6 months
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pictures of cassies newest fc that make me insane ab the energy
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majunju · 1 year
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Who is in ur PFP? My brain keeps telling me Kohaku but I can’t tell 😅
ur correct it is enstars kohaku
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azatas · 6 months
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hehe
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thenighttrain · 1 year
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the spreadsheet 2.0 is incoming
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triggerhappymilitant · 7 months
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✪ [ from @thetiredassistant ]
Send me ✪ and my muse will tell you what they’d like to do to/with yours. One  ✦ = They don’t want to do this at all. Five  ✦ = They would die to be doing this! (Zero  ✦  = “Wat?!”)
My muse would like too…
✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✧  dance with your muse. ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✧  sing for your muse. ✦ ✦ ✦ ✧ ✧  ask your muse out on a date. ✦ ✦ ✦ ✧ ✧  take a bath with your muse. ✦ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧  hold your muse tight. ✦ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧  lean onto your muse. ✦ ✦ ✦ ✧ ✧  kiss your muse. ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✧  sleep with your muse. ✦ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧  marry your muse. ✦ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧  watch your muse sleep.
✦ ✦ ✧ ✧ ✧  cuddle your muse. ✦ ✦ ✦ ✦ ✧  go to a party with your muse. ✦ ✦ ✦ ✧ ✧  watch a movie with your muse ✦ ✦ ✦ ✧ ✧  play video games with your muse ✦ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧  steal horses with your muse. ✦ ✦ ✧ ✧ ✧  cook together with your muse. ✦ ✦ ✦ ✧ ✧  support your muse’s hobbies. ✦ ✦ ✦ ✧ ✧  get drunk with your muse.
✦ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧  watch your muse cry. ✦ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧  send your muse away. ✦ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧  make your muse trip. ✦ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧  deny your muse’s existence. ✦ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧  slap your muse. ✦ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧  crush your muse’s dreams ✦ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧  set your muse’s home on fire. ✦ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧  kill your muse.
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idkimnotreal · 1 year
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(1:30am)7 dudes on the attack field. 4 minutes until the end of the match, until the end of extra time. we had an advantage of 1 goal. 4 minutes until the semi finals. but there were 7 dudes on the attack field.
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bigpussytown · 7 months
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superman is canonically really into cock and ball torture but cant experience it because of the yellow sun
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loser-user-noaccuser · 7 months
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TWO WEEKS
ok technically its 15 days still but i have the countdown set for the whole day so kind of 2 weeks but also no
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shotmrmiller · 2 months
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smut because somehow i always end up there.
yknow something that pushy ass cbf!johnny would do?
tell you that he'd get more benefits and/or pay if he had a spouse.
"Because you're in absolute poverty, Johnny."
He clicks his tongue. "Be serious, hen."
You are being serious. Johnny's not hurting for cash. His parents are still alive, so he has no need to buy a place of his own, and even then, he just swings by his family's home before coming back to stay with you until leave's over. Honestly, you should be charging him rent.
"Johnny. Unless you're planning on buying another ostentatious vehicle with tires too big for this tiny town, I'm not seeing what you're seeing."
He digs his thumb into the arch of your foot that's draped over his lap. "But think o' the possibilities! If say, you married me, ye wouldn't need to work anymore. Jus' worked on gettin' the job of yer dreams! An' besides, ah'd never realistically settle down anyway; too busy savin' the world an' all."
The extra income must be drastic if he's this insistent. "Why not marry the big brit with the skull for a face? You talk about him enough to sound like you've got a hard on for him."
He avoids your gaze when he informs you that Ghost is already married.
"And what about me? What if I find a boyfriend or something?" you playfully teased. Johnny's bright blue eyes turned to ice.
"Is there someone?" A muscle worked in his jaw.
Dread crawled up your spine. Abort. Abort. "Of course not." The tension melted from his face— gaze gentling and lips softening.
Christ, can he be intense sometimes.
You clear your throat. "Say I do marry you. What do you get out of this as my benefactor? Math isn't mathing, Johnny."
His lips curl upwards in amusement. "Nothin' between us would change. Jus' get a nice, shiny band on my hand tha' keeps unwanted advances off of me, and I wouldn't have to live on base anymore. Tired of eatin' tha' slop at dfac."
Johnny's long fingers curl around your ankle, thumb drawing gentle circles on the bone. "C'mon, hen. Think about your career! Marry me and ye won't even have t'change yer last name, swear."
Once again, fooled by the pretty face and dazzling smile.
You were a MacTavish by the end of the month, and he'd ended up in your bed that same night. Pushed your face into the soft mattress as he bullied his cock into you, telling you to feel how he splits his little wife's pussy open.
Mottled the delicate skin of your neck and collarbone with purple love bites when he hooked your knees over his shoulders, forcing you to take all of him in that devastating angle.
Made you look at yourself in the mirror in the bathroom, one hand gripping your neck, and the other on your swollen cunt, rubbing tight circles on your slippery clit. "Look at how beautiful y'are. How good yer takin' me." He tilts your head upwards, locking eyes with you. "This cunt was made f'me, wasn't it, wife?" he rumbles.
If he said anything else, it was promptly drowned out by a buzzing in your ears as your world went white. Warmth trickled down your legs as pleasure burst through you, spasm after gut-twisting spasm. Johnny blessedly slows down, working you through it tenderly, until you hiss in discomfort from oversensitivity.
"The way ye look in yer pleasure is somethin' i'll see behind my eyelids forever, bonnie."
Heat licks up the sides of your jaw. "Johnny, please—" you cut off, a moan tumbling out of your lips when he presses himself flush against your arse.
"Dinnae worry, ah'm not done with ye jus' yet." There's a hand in between your shoulder blades, pushing down gently. "Bend over, hands behind yer back, Mrs. MacTavish."
ghost is in fact, not married.
and the pay raise is mediocre.
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Surprise: cbf!soap x f!reader
Johnny called you nearly everyday for months. It wasn’t the same, he wasn’t there to go have dinner with you or to hang out with you for hours at a time, but when you both were free you spent hours on the phone together.
Hearing his voice, knowing that he was still talking to you made you feel better and you knew it made him feel better too.
“I’ll still be in uni by the time you come home.” You told him one day and he scoffed.
“So? That won’t stop me.” He assured you and you laughed because you had worried about it.
Worried that he wouldn’t come home if you were still at classes, worried he would and you’d miss him. But knowing that no matter what, he will come see you not matter what made you feel better.
"When do you think you'll be coming?" You asked, excited and nervous about seeing him again.
"What if I wanted it to be a surprise?" He teased and you groaned.
"C'mon I need to know just the day."
"Well...if your uni wasn't so confusing it'd be today."
You shot up from your bed, your heart beating fast as you tried figure out if you were dreaming or not. Today? Right now? He was here and you were going to see him after almost an entire year of not seeing him?
"Where are you?" You asked urgently as scrambled to get dressed.
"Uh, I think the middle of campus?"
"Johnny! More specific!"
"There's a campus coffee shop right in front of me."
"Do not move from there."
Johnny laughed and you nearly sprinted out of your dorm, knowing exactly where he was. You were close by and you didn't stop for anything as you ran to the coffee shop.
When you got there you looked around frantically for him.
He called out your name, not from the phone but from the square around you. You stopped and looked for him and when you saw him it took only just a moment to recognize him before you were rushing at him.
Johnny wrapped his arms tightly around you when you jumped on him. He held you firmly, almost in a bone crushing hug while you hugged him back just as tight with tears in your eyes.
It felt like home in his arms. Suddenly everything felt so much better inside you as he held you securely to him, to finally see him and feel him after so long.
"I missed you." You choked out and sniffled.
"I missed you too." He sighed heavily.
It took a moment for you both to pull away and when you did, you both took in each other for the first time in almost a year.
The first thing you noticed was the change in his hair. Instead of full head of hair, he instead had shaved it into a Mohawk which hadn’t been trimmed. He had also bulked up, having a lot more muscles than you had ever seen on him before, making him look less like the boy that used to play football and draw pictures, to someone who went to the gym every day.
There was also something different about him. Something more serious that you could see in the way he stood in front of you, more discipline that you never really saw from him before.
And yet, despite that he still had that big doofus grin you had grown up with and known to love.
And at the same time Johnny was going through something similar as he looked at you.
He noticed the changes immediately, noticed how you had more confidence in yourself than the day he had left you, how you looked so much more grown up than he felt and how much more beautiful you were.
He got flustered when you looked into his eyes the same you got flustered when he looked at you.
Maybe it was the fact that the two of you hadn’t seen each other in a long time but neither of you could quite understand you have never truly seen how attractive the other was until this very moment.
“How-How long are you home for?” You asked as you held onto his hand.
“Ten days.” He told you and he squeezed your hand. “We can do whatever you want.”
Ten days wasn’t nearly long enough but you didn’t care. He was here with you now and you felt the happiest you had been in months.
“I know this perfect restaurant near campus and then after that I can show you around.” You offered and he smiled.
“Lead the way, Bonnie.”
A/n: babies are in love but are too dumb to say it
Tags: @elysian0612 @cassiecasluciluce @pepsicolacoochie @hayleybarnesx @tiredmetalenthusiast @misshoneypaper @sodavrr @ghostslittlegf @glitterypirateduck @comeonatmebruh
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strulovitches · 2 months
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first move (?)
cbf!lance x f!reader
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summary : basically you and lance are childhood best friends and one day when he was sitting spread eagle it makes you h*rny and some suggestive stuff ensues.
a/n : inspired by lance sitting spread eagle in that one video. you know which vid i’m talking about. this has been in my notes for so long and it really isn’t written very well but i just thought i should put this out there in case anyone would enjoy it lmao. so,,,, if you’re a lance enjoyer,,,, have fun!
you locked your phone, staring at your reflection as the screen turned dark. qualifying had just finished about half an hour ago and from where you were standing in lance’s motorhome you could still hear the distant cheers outside, undoubtedly celebrating a rare occasion where pole position was a car that wasn’t a red bull. lance had invited you to this race, just like all the other dozens of times you have attended a grand prix weekend. the relationship you have with lance is kind of cute, both of your fathers were long-time friends which meant that you knew lance ever since he was a little boy racing go-karts around montreal. growing up together, you were there when he first won his go-kart championship and he was there to comfort you when you first failed your maths test. a childhood best friends trope at its finest.
more than a decade has passed which has seen both you and lance grow to become a man and a woman. you thought about how lance was no longer a scrawny boy with a bowl haircut. he grew to be a handsome young man, his job requiring him to train religiously and as a result gain muscle. his skinny arms, ones which you used to compare with chicken legs grew thicker, his chest wider, and he soon towered over you. throughout these past few years, you always found yourself staring at his shirtless torso a bit too long during both of your family’s annual yacht trips together. you wanted to cup his face in your hands and at the same time his broad back made you wonder what it would feel like your dig your nails into it. you chastised yourself, how could you have thoughts like that about your childhood best friend? despite that, you weren’t oblivious to the glances lance would give you as well. lance too, noticed your physical changes.
his cheeky teases turned into flirtations and once innocent hugs lingered a bit longer as you both savoured being held by each other. so were both you and lance sort of pining for each other? well, yes. has anyone made a first move? nope. (but maybe that’s going to change now)
lance walked in plopping down on the couch with a huff. his legs were spread and arms on the couch rest throwing his head back
you felt like you were in a trance. your eyes trained on his neck watching his adam’s apple bob trying to catch his breath from his sprint. the sweat on his face was dripping on to the towel he had on his neck. he was always so sweaty after sessions in the car for some reason. your gaze trailed down his body seeing how his fireproofs perfectly hugged his biceps, chest and torso. the longer you stared at his thighs made thoughts made your mind wander about what was beneath his pants. slowly, you felt your face flush. the heat pooling in your stomach was starting to intensify the longer you spent gazing at him.
you broke your trance to find a pair of cheeky brown eyes already staring back. a stupid cocky smirk plastered on his stupid handsome face. obviously, you’ve been caught checking him out.
‘like what you see?’ and so, the teasing game begins
you give him a once over again, trying to sound nonchalant. ‘definitely’ you paused. ‘close your legs before i do something stupid’ you continued, fumbling with your phone to calm down your racing heart.
he let out a laugh. ‘i’m intrigued now. come on, nothing will be too stupid.’ you hear him persuade.
moments pass. were you really going to be the first one to make a move?
fuck it. you placed your phone on the table and walked towards him, never breaking eye contact. stopping in between his legs you gaze down at him. he still has that stupid smile on his face.
staring into his eyes, you slowly start to kneel. your hands place themselves on his knees as you feel the plush carpet underneath your knees. you could see his eyes turn dark and his smile falter. his relaxed posture becomes apprehensive, slowly sitting up at this turn of events. you smile as your hands slide up his legs and place your cheek on his thigh, lips dangerously close to somewhere he would rather them be. clearly, there’s no need to explain what something stupid is.
‘happy now stroll?’ you lilt, seeing his jaw clench at your precarious position.
‘no, show me what you’ve got’ he continues.
giving him your best doe eyes, you bring your lips to the canadian flag printed on the navel of his racing suit. hands still on his thighs, you start kissing each letter of his name printed. you could feel your chin brushing against his crotch every time you shift.
‘how about now?’ you tilt your head looking up at him.
he doesn’t look too happy when he cups your jaw with his hand. ‘teasing isn’t nice you know.’ he says, brushing your bottom lip with his thumb.
you catch his thumb between your teeth as you give it a lick. a teasing glint appears in your eyes, opening your mouth to release his thumb. ‘then don’t start’ you finish, pushing his legs wider as you use the momentum to stand up as you move to amble away.
what a fucking temptress. he curses in his mind. ‘1-0 stroll! it’s your turn to make a move!’ he hears you yell out. just you wait baby, just you wait.
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katz-chow · 2 months
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cbf!gaz but i think his family was rich enough to send him abroad as a foreign exchange student. he lands in semi rural us.
it's not bad and it's not very urban either. he lands in your host family for a whole year. it starts off awkward with the two of you making small talk to each other until you take him to his first football game before homecoming.
he's ecstatic and kind of scared as you use your finger to dot on the face paint on his cheeks. It's your senior game, and i guess his too since he's part of the school and your family now.
when the two of you got there, he was busy taking in the environment of the busy bleachers, of the colors of your school contrasting the colors of the other school. the chilly autumn wind blowing through your bones and the loud music of the marching band.
your school didn't win, but the two of you still drove home with happy smiles and tired eyes. the cold followed you out into the empty fields of your house, acres stretched far and wide.
you found your parents and a few of their friends crowded outside, a beer in each of their hands. they greet the two of you as you started to end the day.
after your respective showers and a change of clothes, you weren't so tired anymore, if anything you were more refreshed.
the two of you decided to end the night outside in the fresh air around a fire pit not far from your parents' little hangout. a large duvet covers the two of you as he tells you about his life at home. and it continued to cover the both of you until you were both fast asleep, your dad having to wake kyle up and carry you into your bed.
this happens again almost a decade later after you two come back home while both on leave. a stupid "if you join, i'll join too" little thing became your lives. you trained together in north carolina, went on leave together, and learnt that you couldn't live without each other.
so both of your parents giggle to themselves as they see you on the bench a bit further out from them, the same bench that you fell asleep against each other back when midterms were still major stressors.
they whisper among themselves, probably planning your wedding for you as you lay your head on kyle's lap, large duvet over you and a fluffy throw blanket on his lap as your pillow.
"remember when you threw up from downing a buzzball after prom?'
"oh fuck off."
master list | letter box | main directory
stop by the letter box!
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diejager · 2 months
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Cw DARKFIC, DUB-CON/NON-CON, dark cbf!Johnny, smut, manipulation, kissing, groping, teasing, tell me if I missed any. Since tumblr removed this post a few minutes ago, I’m reporting it! I’m not sure if it was removed because someone reported it or the AI found it or smt, but I always have a back up :)
Your mother had always cooed at how close you were with Johnny, an unbroken and loyal friendship that she hoped would keep even when you grew older, changing schools and moving to find work. She thought it an innocent thing, adorable and cherishable in every sense knowing that Johnny was a strong and aspiring man, he would be able to protect you and help you in your time of need. And he did, Johnny was glued to you by the hip, following you everywhere you went and stared at you with devoted and desperate eyes. You could trust Johnny with everything, even your deepest and darkest secrets.
When you confessed to Johnny that you watched your friends kiss, the naked love in their eyes shining through, and felt a slight twinge of curiosity and envy in your heart, he showed you how it felt to kiss with love. Johnny hid you in his room, fingers curled around your hair and pulling you forwards, his lips warm and soft against yours. He kissed you with intent, a hot and churning love that had you whimpering and clinging onto him, melting in his arms while he moved your lips to his beat. It took your breath away, instilling a burning fire in your heart, the young embers of a bonfire that would light up your heart with a booming throb. Despite you gasps and shortness of breath, you sought Johnny for a second and a third kiss, leaning towards him with pouted lips. 
You were only 13 when you gave your first kiss to the perfectly plumps lips of your best friend.
When you caught boys groping their girlfriends in public areas, unabashed about their affection being perceived as lewd or inappropriate for the public, and gossiped with Johnny about how weird it was to grope someone - even a lover - in public was and that it should be kept indoors, especially when one would moan or yelp, Johnny explained it to you with his body. You were left in your house’s living room, parents off to work and leaving you two alone at home, he groped you, his rougher fingers kneading your pubescent body. Johnny squeezed the curve of your hips, trailing down your plush thighs and up your ass until you gasped in shock before it turned into mewls, little, breathy sounds that encouraged Johnny to do more. He slid his hand beneath your shirt and pinched your perked nipples, rolling your little nubs between his thumb and index while you arched, writhing so much that Johnny had to straddle you to keep you from moving too much. 
You were only shy of 15 when you felt the first dribble of slick down your ass from your childhood best friend’s hands.
When you shared to Johnny all the stories of your friends losing their virginity - the V-card, they called it, as if it were something worth losing or giving without much though - and all the brutish and callous ways they spoke of it, you edged on shock and apprehension about such a thing, Johnny promised he would show you how important it was to give it to someone worth your time and heart —him.
“Ye trust me, dinnae ye,” he whispered your name so reverently, his breath tickling your nape as he pressed himself into you. 
You do, your trust Johnny with your whole life, but you were still unsure about it. You were nervous with how optimistic Johnny was about taking your virginity as much as he was to give you his, and yet, despite your fears, you still gave yourself to him because he was your trusted, childhood best friend. Johnny fucked you amaturish but devoted snaps of his hips, rocking into you until you cried out his name whenever he bumped into something gummy and sensitive inside of you. You bled, but the pain never persisted, it was quickly swallowed by pleasure, waves of drowning ecstasy that numbed your mind and wracked your body with tremors. You saw the appeal in losing your virginity, to succumb to the pleasure of sex and give yourself to someone you truly loved and trusted. 
You were only 17 when you felt the uncut and hard cock of your childhood best friend. 
Taglist: @sae1kie @yeoldedumbslut @bvxygriimes @distracteddragoness @konigsblog @im-making-an-effort @daisychainsinknots @h0n3y-l3m0n05 @danielle143 @tuttifuckinfruttifriday @notspiders @brokenpieces-72 @petwifed @randominstake @hayleybarnesx @shironasumi @sparky--bunny @bloobewy @cod-z @sweetnanah @aldis-nuts @rainbowsabre @evolutionarry @kaoyamamegami @cassiecasluciluce
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katzenmas · 3 months
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just imagine cbf!Gaz seeing you again after ten years. Last time he saw you was when you guys finished your GCSEs. somehow you still looked the same even after all these years. the loud laugh that you barked out in the midle of the supermarket made him do a 160 degree turn.
he knew that godawful laugh, and it belonged to a snarky mean girl he knew as a kid. she was awful, always making fun of him in some way or another, showing up at his house like she owned it, eating his snacks and staying for dinner that his ma prepared. you were a nuisance at first. just some kid that moved in two houses down. then you became a thorn at his side when you caught him staring at your old my little pony dolls.
that very day, under the hot summer sun, napes sticky with sweat and lips tugged into smiles while you and Kyle played with your dolls, a beautiful friendship was born.
both of you started school, as fate would have it, you were conveniently placed as classmates. always going to and coming back from school together. never once did you grow apart. during those eleven years in school you and kyle both got new friends, different friendgroups but never lost sight of each other.
but then he joined the military. he finished his exams and got his acceptance letter into bootcamp the same day. his excited expression fell from his face when he saw how you clutched the letter he gave you a bit more tightly. your eyes looked up into his, with white molten rage simmering in your irises.
' I will be protecting you! protecting the whole country' he was screaming. nervous hands running to run his fingers through his hair, small puffs of air heaving out of kyle's chest.
' Yes by killing other people who are doing the same thing Kyle! don't you get it? you are just a body to them, you will be replaced by some other idiot kid who thinks he can be a hero' your yell tore through his room. you two have been at it for hours now. his whole room was a mess, things were thrown in the heat of the moment, some old football trophy lay broken next to a sweater of his that you threw at kyle's head.
'please, just stay' you were much quieter, your tone pleading, begging him to reconsider. ' just stay with me, be safe with me'
next morning he took his bags and left for bootcamp.
it's been ten years since that. turns out you still live in the small town you guys grew up in, or maybe you're visiting our parents? kyle's mind is running a hundred miles per hour, looking over at your form, trying to notice what had changed.
the first thing he noticed was your hair. it was no longer styled in the edgy way you liked to keep it during your rebellious teenage years. it was your natural hair color, a few strands framed your face and shook round as you laughed with your shopping partner.
the next thing he noticed were your hands. your fingers more specifically. kyle was looking each of your fingers, trying to notice even the smallest flash of metal. of a ring. he came up empty handed.
before he could choose another part of you to analyze, the loud sound of glass breaking got him to look up.
the jar of pickles you were holding slipped from your hands. your fingers were shaking, eyes trained on him, frozen in stupor. kyle saw the gears turn in your head, he could almost see the memories of your fight flashing by your eyes. your friend placed a hand on your shoulder but you ignored it, staring kyle down with a cold gaze.
a few beats of silence streched for far longer than kyle would have liked, so he broke it.
'hey there! its been years' he tried to sound casual about it but it came out a bit forced, his voice sounded like there was soemthing lodged in the back of his throat. he outstretched his arm and moved closer to you, but was left frozen mid action as you turned your back towards him and just picked another jar of pickled from the shelf in front of you.
you did not dignify him kyle with a response, hellbent on acting like he was not even standing there. you shook your head and turned to your friend, a smile graced your lips again as you pushed your trolley past Kyle, never looking at him again.
' did you know that guy?'
'i dont think so, can't remember him' kyle felt his heart shatter.
-----
idk where i was going with this. it was supposed to be a smutty one at first and then i was like hmmm... haven't written agnst yet. so yeah.
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Home. - Fluffy Ending (not canon) || cbf!Simon "Ghost" Riley
Rating: M Words: 2.8K Pairing: cbf!Simonxafab!reader / teen!Simonxteen!Reader Summary: Teen Simon and his best friend often spend their nights away from their respective houses because they found a home in each other… CW: none. Tags: you/your pronouns, reconnecting with family, wedding guests, second chance romance, time skip. a/n: not proofread. I didn't like the way I wrote this ending but I figured I should share it either way. It's too fluffy/forced for my taste. The actual alt ending will be better. ALSO: Was listening to Chemical by Post Malone on repeat while writing this. Idk if you wanna do that too while reading...
[MASTERLIST]
You're twenty-eight, he's twenty-nine.
You swore to yourself you wouldn’t step a foot back in Manc, not even if cows flew!
You swore to yourself you wouldn’t keep in contact with anyone, not even if someone died!
(Which your father did. Thank fuck.)
You broke those promises so many times.
You were unable to keep away, though you tried…
It’s your own fault, really.
You stalk your old friends and family on Facebook sometimes.
Other times you check the local news.
Others you check the obituary and marriage sections on the news.
You beat yourself over it every time. Even though seeing the lack of changes through your cyberstalking and the news made you feel immense relief, you still ended up closing the pages on your browser with more aggression than you should and sulking in your bed.
And yet, you still go and do it again a few weeks later.
And then another few weeks later.
It’s pathetic, really, but maybe it provides you some comfort. Maybe helps you sleep at night.
You should’ve figured out that someone would have made you eventually. 
I mean, naming your blank Facebook profile after the one mean neighbor you had, who called the police on you and your mates once for being too loud while hanging out in the street, and died years ago? Yeah, they’d make you eventually.
Luckily for you, it was Olly who did.
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All things considered, it could’ve gone much worse.
Maybe… Maybe you should follow his advice.
It’s been a decade.
Your mum deserves at least a letter to let her know you’re still alive, that you’re healthy, happy, and safe. She’s owed that much…
-
It was very strange to be inside your childhood home after almost eleven years.
Four days ago, your mum had openly sobbed as she threw her arms around you, and you had found yourself sobbed with her, both of you falling to your knees at the front door.
She held your face so gingerly and kissed your forehead so many times, her face severely more aged than the last time you had seen her.
The letter you had sent her 8 months before was 23 pages long, a bulk so large you sent them unfolded and stapled together inside a manila envelope rather than folded neatly into a standard one, and had detailed everything you figured she should learn about your life. 
Where you went.
What you did.
Who you did it with.
How you felt.
What you learned.
How you changed.
You apologized for running away, for worrying her.
You assured her you loved her and missed her.
You asked, tentatively, if she could find a way to let you be a bit more present.
You reiterated you wanted to remain living where you were in Scotland… but that you could allow yourself to be her daughter again if she so wanted it.
You know she cried reading it. Hell, you cried writing it…
You didn’t expect anything, you didn’t want to cause her any more grief by coming barrelling back into her life. She’s your mother, you didn’t want to manipulate her. You weren’t surprised when she didn’t answer for a few weeks…
But then her letter came. A simple half-a-page response that said, in no uncertain terms, that she missed you, that you were always welcome in her home and her heart, and she wanted to have her little girl back.
It all culminated in today.
Adjusting your red gown with one hand, you walk up the aisle, the other holding your 10-month-old daughter who’s clad in a pale yellow tulle dress. She’s kept flush to your chest, her chubby legs wrapped around your hip.
You and your mum find a spot near the middle and sit down, though you scoot yourself as far on the pew as you can, making sure that you can step off to the side just in case Evelyn starts fussing. Though you doubt she will. 
The ceremony is being held in the middle of the afternoon and she has been calm and sleepy this whole time, softly dozing off in your arms, her little face nuzzling to your neck, since it’s close to her nap time.
You sit Evie down on your lap and place a hand on the back of her head while you and your mum speak softly, still waiting for the wedding ceremony to start.
You still can’t believe that you’re here…
Wythenshawe still looks as crappy as ever, you still know the streets like the back of your hand, though a lot of it has changed, shops went out and into business, and people moved away.
You met up with your old mates at your local just a couple of nights ago, and after a lot of tears and some drinking, you gossiped all night about your lives and everyone else’s.
In a way, it feels like you never left…
You were so afraid that they would hold a grudge at you for leaving, for not staying in touch… But they never did. You were welcomed with open arms…
It’s… nice.
The ceremony doesn’t take long to start. 
You nearly cry at the sight of Emily in her wedding dress, having deemed her a close friend for the better time of your formative years. And Olly, as emotionally detached as he tries to pretend himself to be, cries at the sight of his bride.
The ceremony is long and a bit tedious, as most weddings tend to be, but you’re still happy to be there… Happy to be back.
It’s nearly 45 minutes into the ceremony when Evie starts fussing a bit. You’re quick to take the nappy bag onto your shoulder and rush out of the church while shooting some apologetic looks to the guests around.
Once outside, you find shade under a tree and begin to bounce Evie a bit, knowing she isn’t fussing because of her diaper or hunger, but rather from the fact she’s teething.
One hand balances the infant, the other sets down the nappy bag on a low wall and you begin rummaging for the teething ring toy amidst the pockets. When you find it, you give it to her, which she gladly takes, though it doesn’t do much for her pain, only quieting her down a bit by allowing her to bite all over it.
“Shhh… it’s alright, pet…” You whisper to her as you kiss her smooth forehead and nuzzle your nose against the crown of her head.
You keep softly swaying and bouncing with her in your hip, moving about, side to side, while she drools all over the toy, her hands, and your dress as she softly headbutts your chest while chewing.
You’re lucky your dress is a dark enough shade of red and made from a fabric as forgiving as chiffon, so that the wetness will dry quickly and discreetly.
It’s in the midst of your pacing and bouncing the infant on your hip that you spot him.
His pale jawline peppered with a well-trimmed stubble, his blonde hair cut short and hidden under the beige beret, his strong build wrapped in full military dress…
You almost didn’t recognize him…
You leave your bag right where it is and beeline for him before you can stop yourself. 
And he makes no motion to move from his resting spot, leaning against a wall, smoking a cigarette, and looking right at you like you’re sure he has been doing for the past 15 minutes or so (you wouldn’t put it past him).
“Fuckin’ hell…” You hear yourself saying as you come to stand in front of Simon.
He tosses his cigarette down on the floor and puts it out with his brown boot, blowing the smoke away from your daughter on your hip.
“That how you greet people now?” He retorts while looking down at you through his fluttering eyelashes. 
His voice is so much deeper, rough and strong than it used to be… You don’t know how to respond at first, your mouth has gone dry and your brain has blue-screened.
You’ve had dreams about this before… Nightmares too.
You’ve imagined that one day you’d cross paths with him on the street and you’d stumble all over yourself. That he’d ask you how you’ve been or what you’ve done with your life and you’d have nothing to show for it…
You thought you’ve healed from your past, but here comes Simon Riley to indirectly tell you “HA! Think again, dumbass!”.
“You surprised me is all.” You end up saying, your voice carrying a maturity and a strength you didn’t know it could. “Didn’t think you’d come.”
“Didn’t think I would either. Got lucky this coincided with my leave.” He remarks. “Could say the same to you, though.” He adds.
You can’t tell if he meant to offend with that comment. Olly had told you through Facebook that he told Simon about you vanishing off the face of the Earth and that Simon didn’t take it well. You knew he, rightfully so, expected you to stay gone.
“Got back in touch with Olly and the rest of my family.” You remark simply and shrug.
He keeps looking at you with those brown eyes of his, with a certain coldness behind you that forcefully reminds you that this is not the same person you used to know. The boy he was and the man he is are forcefully different people.
“Cute kid.” He adds after a beat of silence as his eyes flit to your daughter who’s still very much in her own world with her teething toy.
“Thanks.” You reply.
This feels awkward. You’re finally standing face to face (more like face-to-chest, goddamn is the man tall) after a whole ten years. Are you even friends? No. But are you acquaintances? Also no. And you have too much of a history to be strangers. 
So what are you?
“What’s her name?” He asks as he looks back at you.
“Evie.” You answer. “Evelyn.” You correct yourself before adding. “Evie for short.”
“Hm.” He remarks unemotionally. His eyes flit over you up and down, taking in… everything about you.
You are a confident person, you’d say. You feel good in your own skin. You like your reflection when you see yourself in the mirror. And you feel like a million bucks in this dress, which wraps around your body beautifully, the fabric making you look delicate and soft.
But under his scrutinizing gaze, you feel anything but confident.
So, you take a breath and return the same scrutinizing gaze, up and down, taking in every inch of him, your eyes just as strong and confident as his own. He notices, because of course he does, and he puffs out his chest and raises his chin, to allow you to keep looking at him, showing himself off a bit proudly.
He’s wearing a khaki formal uniform, or full dress as you remember it being called, and although it's been ten years, you still remember some things about all the stuff you investigated about the British Army, so you could keep up with him, impress him with your knowledge.
A brown waist belt with a sash across the right soldier means he’s an Officer… The buttons are gold and shaped like winged parachutes, and he wears a beret instead of a cap. A beige beret to be exact, which means he’s no longer in the Parachute Regiments, who wear maroon ones. There’s a cap badge on the beret and the Excalibur on it tells you one thing: he’s special forces. You don’t remember which one… but you know he’s something big, bad, and important.
“Special Forces.” You muse out loud, showing off what you noticed.
His eyebrows raise, impressed by you, and then he nods. “Somethin’ like that.” He adds.
“Done well for yourself, then.” You add and he nods again and blinks while smirking, as if trying to humbly pat himself on the back for it.
“She have a dad?” Simon asks while shooting Evelyn a look. The words escape his mouth quicker than he wanted and sound a lot more judgemental than he meant for them to.
The way your eyebrows raised at him, the same way they used to when he’d say something bloody stupid as a teen, told him you weren’t pleased and that he had put his foot in his mouth.
“Sorry.” He says though it’s clear he doesn’t mean it. “Came out wrong.” He tells you.
You might have gone ten years apart but you knew Simon like the back of your hand at one point… And you knew sometimes he’d say things aloud when he meant to keep them as thoughts. It’s clearly that’s a habit he still has.
“I know what you meant.” You reply bluntly as you fix your grip on the infant, swiveling her a bit to sit on your other side.
“What’s the answer then? She got a dad?” He probes as he dips his head a bit to the side, his arms hanging by his side as he looks you up and down.
“Aye.” You end up replying, the Scottish word slipping past your lips then you meant for it to. You still speak English with a Manc accent, just like him, but there are little quirks like this one that you’ve adopted after living in Dundee for ten years.
Simon’s eyebrows cock up as well at the sound of Scottish word, and you can tell he finds it odd, but he doesn’t comment. “Where’s he, then?” He retorts. “No ring on your finger.” He adds.
Your eyes drift down to your left hand which is wrapped around your daughter now, the splayed fingers showing a distinct lack of a wedding ring. He sounds just as judgemental. But you don’t let it ruffle your feathers.
“Separated.” You reply maturely. “No ring on yours.” You say and nod toward his own left hand which also lacks a ring.
“Married to the job.” He replies and you can’t help but let out a snort of a chuckle, which makes him chuckle dryly too.
“‘f course you are.” You add in reply.
“Could’ve been married to you.” He retorts with the same casualty of someone saying ‘Nice weather today’.
You scoff and shake your head. “Really?” You add.
“Ye.” He adds. “Had a ring and everythin’.” He quips. “Then Olly told me you ran off into the night.”
You scoff again, mostly out of disbelief, and look away from him, your eyes flittering over the courtyard in front of the church.
The ceremony should be finishing soon enough.
“Dodged a bullet then.” You remark dryly, smiling a bit in amusement.
“You or me?” He retorts and you find your eyes drifting upwards to him again.
For a moment you just both stare at each other in silence… 
Your eyes are locked in the same way they used to whenever the two of you were about to throw themselves at one another as teens… 
Then, he breaks into a grin, and so do you, the both of you looking away for a moment. His tongue presses against the inside of his cheek. You’re both amused at the cheekiness of your comment.
“How long are you stayin'?” He asks you once you both glance at each other again.
“Goin’ home on the 26th.” You tell him. “How long’ve you got leave for?” 
“‘Till the 27th.” He replies and dips his head to the side a bit.
This is definitely crazy.
You secretly wonder if you’ve gone mad.
A decade has gone by… But there’s no mistaking the electricity in the air.
That light buzzing of goosebumps that prickle at your skin, making the hair in the back of your neck stand… Like lightning is about to strike…
“Take me out to dinner.” You demand abruptly and narrow your eyes at him.
He presses his tongue to the inside of his cheek again in amusement. “Are you askin’ me on a date?” He retorts.
“No. I’m tellin’ you.” You add, watching how his brown eyes swiftly light ablaze with a certain fire you never expected to see after so many years apart.
“Tomorrow?” He suggests.
“Tomorrow.” You add.
“I’ll pick you up at 9.” He adds.
You know damn well that 9 P.M. is too damn late for dinner… But you also know that in reality, your ‘dinner’ will be grabbing Nando’s and cheap beer, and eating in the backseat of his car in that one side road you always used to go to… talking into the night… and probably definitely fucking each other’s brains out.
“Like the good ol’ days.” You remark.
“Mhm.” He adds.
Then, the church doors open and the guests come pouring out, forcing the two of you to separate.
But you can still see the smirk on his lips from afar as you walk off to grab your nappy bag, find your mum, and get ready for the rice toss.
[MASTERLIST]
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