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#touch starved soap
brewed-pangolin · 17 days
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"Ya comfy, hen?" Soap whispers softly against the shell of your ear.
His rolling timbre echoed down the curve of your spine and into the depths of your core, punctuating the feel of him as you lowered yourself onto the thick flesh of his cock.
"Yeah. I'm good."
As you sank into the comfort of his lap, your back pressed against his muscular chest, he reached over to grab at a blanket and wrap it around your exposed lower half. Shielding you from the cool air, your skin running fire hot in contrast with his arms wrapped around your torso.
"Aye. Better than good, bonnie. Been thinkin' bout this for months."
The subtle yearning in his voice pulled a gentle smile into the corners of your lips. Nudging your forehead into his temple with a muffled sigh, fluttering your eyes closed as you savored the feel of him enveloping around and within you.
"Can you pass the popcorn, love?"
"Aye. What'ya wanna watch?"
"It's your turn to choose, Johnny."
Tossing a few buttery popped kernels into your mouth, you handed him the remote and nestled the oversized tub of popcorn in your lap. Leaning your head back against his broad shoulder as he thumbed through an array of films until one finally caught his interest.
"Ah. Haven't seen this one yet. Heard it's good."
"Seriously, Johnny? A horror movie?" You questioned with a furrowed brow.
Titling to give him a probing side eye, only to be met by a piercing blue glare and smug smile on his lips.
"What? I thought ya liked horror."
Rolling your eyes, you popped a few more kernels into your mouth, tossing a few his way as the opening logos danced on the screen.
"S'ides. Ya know how much I love it when ya clench 'round from the jump scares."
Drabbles Masterlist
Okay, I lied. I had one more...
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wispscribbles · 4 months
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I love your ghost design. I wanna squeeze him :⁠^⁠)
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If no hug then why hug-shaped???
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witchthewriter · 3 days
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𝐓𝐨𝐮𝐜𝐡-𝐒𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐯𝐞𝐝 𝐂𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐨𝐟 𝐃𝐮𝐭𝐲 𝐌𝐞𝐧
⤷ gender neutral, ambiguous race, and any size reader. Requests are open, thank you for reading!
Warnings: fluffy fluff
ᴹᵃˢᵗᵉʳˡᶤˢᵗ | ᴹᵃˢᵗᵉʳˡᶤˢᵗ ᴵᴵ
Being on deployment meant no proper affection. Being on deployment for two months without it was making your husband go insane. When he got home, he had never been so affectionate.
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𝑪𝒂𝒑𝒕𝒂𝒊𝒏 𝑱𝒐𝒉𝒏 𝑷𝒓𝒊𝒄𝒆
It felt like the journey home was excruciating. John was clinging to his back for dear life. His knuckles going white from how tight he squeezed.
Coming to his driveway; the beginning of a long winding gravel road. Eventually, he came to the cottage door and swung it open (you left it unlocked when you knew he was coming home).
As soon as he saw you, his hands slipped around your waist and lifted you up, spinning you around with his head in the crook of your neck "Ooh- John! I missed you too but I'm going to knock something over-"
"Don't care-" he mumbled.
His face buried in the space between your shoulder and neck. Taking in your smell, grasping you just as hard as he was grasping his bag.
"Oh John-" you cooed, stroking his hair, running your hands up and down his back.
"I'm sorry darling," he says moving his head to look at you face to face. "I just- fuck. I just missed you so goddamn much."
And then he went back to molding himself against you, giving you small kisses here and there.
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𝑺𝒊𝒎𝒐𝒏 𝑹𝒊𝒍𝒆𝒚
You had always seen a different side to Simon then other people. The gruff exterior didn't rattle you one bit. Well... that's because he never spoke to you how he spoke to everyone else.
He always treated you with love, respect, dignity and equality. Not something that everyone can say.
That's how you knew he was going to be your life partner.
And as his partner, you know how physical touch means to him.
He isn't one to ask for comfort, but will initiate it. Particularly when he's been on deployment for a long time. That's when you get puppy dog Simon, who keeps you by his side.
"Are you alright?" You said in a quiet, soothing voice. Simon's head was resting on your shoulder as you watched the new Bridgerton.
He'd been quiet for a while, not unusual; but the comfortable silence had been tension-gripped since he came home yesterday.
"Yeah," your husband grumbled, shifting his head from your shoulder to your lap.
One of your hands was on his head, dragging your fingers over his scalp. The other hand rested on his neck. You felt the goosebumps on his skin, a small smile on your lips.
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𝑱𝒐𝒉𝒏𝒏𝒚 𝑴𝒂𝒄𝑻𝒂𝒗𝒊𝒔𝒉
Every time Johnny came home, you would hear him before you'd see him. As an extrovert, he's vocal about the lack of affection he's recieved
"BONNIE, I'M HOME!" He continuously bellows in his loud thick Scottish accent. Walking around the house, practically hunting you in your own home.
Dropping whatever you were holding onto the bed, you raced down from the bedroom and nearly squealed.
"Johnny!" You yelled, helping him locate you.
"There ye are!" He replied, thudding towards you with his big boots still on his feet.
In a quick movement, he scoops you into his arms and presses you to his chest. A move you were all too familiar with now.
His hands grip you tight, his neck dipping to press into your neck. He took a big whiff.
"Are you smelling me, again?"
"Aye. Is that a problem?" He replied, not loosening his grip on you. Nor letting you move.
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𝑲𝒚𝒍𝒆 𝑮𝒂𝒓𝒓𝒊𝒄𝒌
Your loverboy, always so tender and caring. He never puts his needs before your own.
So instead of rushing inside and nearly bulldozing you over, he's gentle in his search for you (although he never needs to search too long)
It's usually you who initiates the affection.
It's like Kyle is still decompressing from his time away.
And you're all too happy to help him. His affection makes you feel fuzzy inside.
But whenever he comes home, you want to be the first to initiate; you want to be the romantic one.
And he appreciates it to no end. He feels so loved when you woo him after coming home.
"Thank you, love." He whispers in your ear as you hold him in your emrace. The bouquet of flowers in his hand. A slight blush over his face.
"Anything, and I mean anything, for you Kyle." You whisper back, planting kisses over him.
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𝑲𝒐̈𝒏𝒊𝒈
Your huge Austrian husband does his best not to wake you in the early hours of the morning.
And even though he has the squeaks in the floorboards memorised, his heavy foot falls still give him away. Subconsciously wanting you to wake.
You weren't really sleeping anyhow. You were too excited for him to return home.
Hearing your bedroom door open, you instantly called out your husband's name.
"It's me schatz! Just me-" he said quickly. The tension eased from your body and you audibly sighed. Months of pent up stress and fear (for both his safety and your own) whooshed away.
Kicking the blankets from your body, you rolled out of bed and jumped into König's arms.
They were outstretched - ready for you.
He was always ready for you when he came home. Nearly a tradition where you practically throw yourself into his arms.
"Do you know how much I missed you?" The same words he says every time he comes home.
"Yes," you whisper back to him. Because your heart always aches the same amount as his.
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here-but-forgotten · 4 months
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just thinkin' about tucking my head into someone's neck and they're warm while they gently hold me to them and keep me from being alone in my own thoughts you know
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Part 1
Part 2
I think A LOT about Soap trying to give back the childhood Ghost lost. (Part 3)
When a perfect opportunity to bring some of his childhood to Ghost accured he decided to act.
They were on mission the day before, Soap was cleaning out an area while Ghost was keeping an eye on him with a sniper. They didn't get injured or anything like that, but Soap took his sweet time to finish the mission and Ghost had to sit in one position for a couple of hours looking at every move the sergeant made. He didn't mind then.
But men did Ghost's back hurt after. He was always kind of tense, Soap knew that. But today Ghost was huffing and puffing everytime he as much got up from a chair. Even Price told him to "Lie the fuck down". Ghost of course said that he was fine, but when they all went on their evening training Ghost excused himself quite quickly. This was very out of characters because usually he was the last one to leave and the one who made Soap push his limits.
Soap decided to follow after Ghost not too long after, going straight to lieutenant's room. He just walked in, eyes on the floor like always. Just in case Ghost doesn't have his mask on. Soap knows he is unbearable, but he would never let himself break the trust Ghost gave him with being disrespectful. It's not like Soap was clueless, he was aware that if it was anybody else just barging in Simon's room, that person would be greeted with a knife to their skull. Soap was greeted with an exasperated groan. Soap lifted his gaze when met with no protests.
Ghost was lying in bed on his stomach, face burried in pillows- maskless. Soap quickly looked down.
"Ghost! Yer mask!"
"You are the one who walked in here, like it's your room." Ghost said, voice muffled by the fabric.
"Well yeah! But you always tell me BEFORE I actually look at ye."
"You saw nothing, you won't get a lot of my face from looking at the back of my head. I am not moving, you can look"
Soap hesitantly looked up. "So... Everything is fine huh?"
"Fine and dandy" He muttered.
Soap refused to accept those words as the truth. He rolled his eyes seizing the opportunity that Ghost weren't looking. He walked up to him and carefully put his hand at the base of Ghost's nape. He gave him time to move away and when he didn't, Soap put all his body weight on his arm.
Ghost groaned and grabbed Soap's arm tightly.
"I can feel how you are perfectly fine."
"You are certainly not helping, Soap."
"But ah could be! You just have to let me." The Scott pulled out his hand from Ghost's grasp.
"I am not rubbing my back with this stinking magic alcohol you try to force on everyone."
Soap made an exaggerated shocked expression, even if Ghost couldn't see it. "It's from my grandma! And it's good for literally everything! Sore throat? Drink it. Stuffed nose? Rub a little on your neck. Something hurts? Rub it in! It's magic and you all don't believe me!"
"I will reek like a fucking distillery."
"How do you know?" Soap crossed his arms.
"Because you use it almost everyday and I can smell it. I am surprised that Price didn't think you were drunk after you used it the first time."
"Well- ok, maybe. It isn't even what I wanted to do. I will give you a massage."
Ghost shifted on his bed. "No."
"But why! Ye want to suffer for the rest of the week? We have a mission soon." Johnny whined.
"You won't do it properly and it will fuck me up even more, besides you know how-" Ghost seemed to be considering his wording. "How I deal with-" Ghost couldn't finish the sentence. So Soap finished it for him in his mind- 'touch'.
Ghost wasn't a fan of touch. When they have met, Soap was unaware of that fact, but now he could tell when Ghost will be tolerating his touchiness and when it was better to keep his distance. What was important is that sometimes Soap seemed to be the only one falling under 'somehow comforting' instead of just 'tolerated'.
"I can massage you through you clothes if it would make you feel better, Simon. And ah didn't mean a normal massage. I want to try something my ma used to do when I was small. Will you let me?"
"......Get on with it then."
If Soap could scream he would, of course he mostly did it for Ghost, but he would be lying if he said that he didn't enjoy it. Bringing comfort to people he lov- cared about felt especially rewarding to him.
Soap hopped onto the bed, swung one of his legs over Ghost and sat on his things. "Alright?"
Ghost's ears were burning red, but he nodded. Soap took a deep breath.
"Close yer eyes and at least try to relax. You are a pile of stiff muscles... And do not laugh at what I am about to do or I will break your spine lad."
Soap laid his palms flat on Ghost. "It was a stormy day..." He tapped his fingers all over the Brit's back and shoulders. "The rain got stronger that ever." He put a little bit more strength into taping his fingers, pressing longer when he felt tension under the fabric. "Suddenly a lady in heels appeared, running through the storm." Soap mimicked a walking pattern with his hands. "After her there was a man in heavy boots." He pushed his clenched fists into Ghost's shirt, kneading the tension away. And Soap could feel it, the tension leaving Ghost's shoulders, the muscles relaxing under him. Soap continued with his little story, trying to represent it with his hands on Ghost. Ghost was shuddering every now and then, holding his sheets for dear life.
Suddenly Soap blew cold air on his neck. "Did the goose bumps go away?"
Ghost took a sharp inhale.
"Usually I would be already asleep when my mom did that or tell her 'no' so she would do it one more time." Soap was mindlessly caressing Ghost's shoulders now and noticed that Ghost is still shuddering. "Hey, you alright, Si?"
"Close your eyes." Ghost whispered, voice strangled.
Soap did as requested, he felt some movement under him.
"You can look." Ghost was resting just as before, face pressed into the pillows. The only difference was that, now he was shirtless. "Go again."
Soap felt butterflies exploding in his stomach. He was never met with so much trust from Ghost, he not only let him see him but also let him touch his beautiful skin. Soap felt special.
And if Ghost still had his face burried into pillows, only because his cheeks were wet with tears- no one had to know. Soap not only made Ghost enjoy touch again, he made him crave it.
My mom used to do that when I was stressed or couldn't sleep so I really wanted to include it. The story Soap is telling is what I remember to be told, but it all sadly starts to get blurry.
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cerise-on-top · 1 month
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Hiya! May I ask for a fluff alphabet for Price, if you haven't done that already. Since I saw in a recent post you only do 8-9 letters at a time now (which is okay!), may I specifically ask for: A, B, C, F, G, H, N, & Q? Thank you! 💗
Hey there! Sure you can! I've been in the mood to write something for Price anyway, so this came at a good time ^^
Fluff Alphabet for Price
A ctivities - What do they like to do with their s/o? How do they spend their free time with them?
On the one hand, he really loves going out to do something with you. Something along the lines of the occasional short hike, taking care of your shared garden or even just taking a stroll through the city, taking in all the sights and finding new ones you weren’t previously aware of. Those are things he likes to do when he’s been home for a while now. However, if he’s gotten home not too long ago then he’d much rather just stay in and sleep a little bit. Will want to cuddle you or just have you be his background noise. Don’t be mad at him if he dozes off while you’re watching a movie together, he’s just extremely tired and needs that rest.
B eauty - What do they admire about their s/o? What do they think is beautiful about them?
He admires how resilient you are. Price knows that life isn’t easy, that it always makes an effort to throw one impossible thing after another at you, but you never seem to give up. No matter how rough life gets, no matter how often it knocks you down, you always get up, dust yourself off and continue to smile. Even if it really took its toll on you, you strive to make your life better. Although it may get you down when you’ve had the worst day of your life, you still won’t stay down forever. You do what you can, and that’s what Price loves about you.
C omfort - How would they help their s/o when they feel down/have a panic attack etc.?
When you’re sad he’ll give you a hug, provided you’re okay with it. He’s a very good hugger, his hugs are very comforting and warm. Afterwards he’ll put on your favorite movie or series and watch it with you. If enough time has passed and you still feel down, then he’ll cook something you really like. Although he knows he can’t make the sadness go away forever, he’ll try to temporarily cheer you up. If you need to talk, if you need some advice, he’s also your man. If you have a panic attack then he’ll try to calm you down by taking you to a location with few people. Price can talk for a while if he needs to, so he’ll ask you to focus on his voice. Might also give you a rather simple task to take your mind off of things, such as counting backwards from 100.
F ight - Would they be easy to forgive their s/o? How are they fighting?
If it’s you, then he would forgive pretty easily, as long as it’s not something too big. If you accidentally knock down a mug he likes, then he might sigh and be annoyed, but he’ll forgive you. If you cheat on him, then he won’t. He’s usually calm and collected, even while fighting. Sure, he could be aggressive towards you and snap at you, but he loves you, so he tries not to. It’s sort of obvious when he is annoyed, his sentences become much shorter and he’ll actively try to get away from you. Won’t yell at you, won’t do any erratic movements either, but if he’s too angry then he’ll simply walk away from you until he’s calmed down.
G ratitude - How grateful are they in general? Are they aware of what their s/o is doing for them?
Yes, he is aware and he is very grateful. How could he not be? You have the patience of a saint when it comes to him. He knows it’s rough to be with someone who is part of the military, he’s away more often than not, but you still decided to stay with him. You cook for him when he’s tired, you draw him a bath when he’s sore, you reassure him when he feels like you deserve better than him. You’re so much more than what he deserves, he doesn’t feel like he could ever repay you for everything you’re doing for him. He tries, though, but it’s never enough. Price could give you the universe and it wouldn’t suffice.
H onesty - Do they have secrets they hide from their s/o? Or do they share everything?
Aside from the obvious, such as military intel, he doesn’t really hide anything from you. Price doesn’t see the point in keeping secrets from you. You’re together, aren’t you? You deserve to know just about anything about him. He might not tell you everything from the get go, but once you’re close enough you can ask him about anything. You wanna know about his time as a private? Sure. How he came to be a captain? Yeah, he can talk about it. Just ask and he’ll likely tell you. But in the same vein he hopes that you trust him enough to tell him just about anything as well.
N icknames - What do they call their s/o?
He doesn’t really use very many nicknames. Just the classic ones, such as “love”, “sweetheart” and “dear”. Sometimes he feels the urge to call you “sunshine”, but he usually represses that since that’s what he’s called his soldiers before. As much as it would fit you, he tries not to bring work home. He likes to call you by your name too, though. But aside from that there’s nothing he really calls you.
Q uirk - Some random ability they have that’s beneficial in a relationship.
He can keep calm in just about any situation, so he won’t lash out on you. He has an air of authority to him, so it’s not too often that someone is being a dick to him. And that extends to you as well. Price is a well respected man, so not very many people will come up to you and demand something from you. You, too, will be respected by most people, he’ll make sure of that. Regardless of whether you’re shy and timid or loud and boisterous, no one will bad mouth you. Price can fight, he will protect you. He will also fight for your honor if he needs to. He may have self restraint most of the time, but no one should ever talk badly about his partner.
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asytherii · 11 months
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“the sound of your breath” — ghostsoap
The safe house is exactly that, safe. Or, as safe as it can be. But that doesn’t save it from being downright fucking chilly.
Soap can hear the faint sounds of Ghosts breaths. The inhale, and then the exhale. Almost rhythmic but not quite. It’s what Soap chooses to focus on instead of the chill clinging to his bones, weaselling underneath his layers of gear and underclothes to pinch and poke and prod.
It’s pitch black, Soap couldn’t even see a shadow of Ghost from the other side of the small room. If he didn’t know any better, he wouldn’t know Ghost was there at all. An unsuspecting victim would be none the wiser, that was just how Ghost was. The sound of his breathing was so close to inaudible it was basically nothing at all, Soap had to strain to hear it.
Below zero weather with no heat, in the middle of fucking nowhere. That is exactly how Soap pictured we’d be spending his time. Good fucking gracious.
He tried to ignore it, the shivers that wracked his body every few minutes and the chattering of his teeth. The longer the night dragged on the colder it got, and the more sleep Soap inevitably lost.
The blankets on top of him were scratchy where they met skin.
“Soap.”
Soap froze where he lay on the floor, cushioned by nothing but a few haphazardly arranged blankets and pillows he dug up in one of the dusty old closets when they’d arrived. Eyes trained on the ceiling above. He thought maybe, just maybe, if he stayed silent enough, Ghost would assume he was asleep.
“I know you’re awake, I can hear your fuckin’ chattering from here.”
Maybe not, then.
Ghost’s voice was heavy laden and rough with sleep, as much of a grumble as a grumble could be.
“Aye, Sir. Just gettin’ comfortable. Did I wake you?” Soap whispers back into the dark, heart beating a fraction faster than before. He’s seen the aftermath of those who’ve woken Ghost up from a perfectly good sleep, not to say he hasn’t been one of them— having survived enough times— but the nerves still grip him all the same.
There’s only silence between them for the next minute or so, maybe shorter, it feels like hours to Soap. Waiting for Ghost to say something, anything.
Maybe he’s gone back to sleep.
Soap hears the sound of shifting against the sheets of the bed across from him.
“Get over here.” There was no bite to it, as much as it was a command. It came out almost like a sigh.
Soap thought his heart stopped, just then. Or maybe he was dead. Maybe, somewhere in the middle of the night he really did freeze to death.
“There’s enough room, if we’re smart about it. You’re no goddamn good to anyone if you’re an ice cube by the time we get out of here, Johnny.” Ghost muttered, followed by more sounds of rustling, likely Ghost rearranging himself atop the small rusty bed.
He thinks, briefly, that it would be unwise to argue. Not that there seemed to be any room to say no. Because logistically, Ghost had a wonderful point. That there’s no need to read into it, or hope, or think about anything other than the need to just be warm. Something Ghost was offering.
Soap felt like a zombie lifting himself up from his pitiful pile of makeshift bed, dragging along a blanket with him before finding the edge of the bed across the room. He swore he felt a few joints pop and crack from laying tense on the ground for so long. He could see Ghost now, the soft white outline of the mask adorning his head, the shape of eyes staring back at him in the dark.
The bed creaks and groans in protest underneath the additional weight of his body.
“Didn’t wanna be a bother.” Soap finds himself whispering.
“I offered. No bother, Soap. Lay down.” Ghost’s voice is painfully soft, such an odd juxtaposition to his usual self. But it works, and Soap is too desperate for the warmth he can already feel seeping into his skin as he lays down beside the man already in the bed to care beyond anything but that.
The sheets are warm. The bed itself smells of dust and old wood, and faintly of Ghost if he looks for it.
When Soap is settled, the room grows silent once more. Again, like a habit unshakeable, Soap seeks out the faint noise of Ghosts’s uneven breaths. So close now that he no longer has to use much effort to find it.
“Thank you.” He whispers, not expecting a reply.
“Sleep, Johnny.” Comes Ghost’s quiet response.
Soap does just that.
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shunshuntaiga · 1 year
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The urge to draw Ghost and Soap being soft and affectionate with each other vs the urge to draw them being the absolute nutcase menaces that they are
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nouns-are-bad · 1 year
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Price loves it when someone cards their hand through his hair, it doesn’t even need to be romantically
This man is so touched starved he will literally take anything touch positive
The rest of the 141 know this and make sure to often hug him and give him positive touches, and, of course, put their hands through his hair
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mamawasatesttube · 10 months
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Timkon shower together and people think they’re having sexy times when in reality they’re giving each other shampoo mohawks and bubble beards and singing songs from their fav musicals
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mishkakagehishka · 1 year
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Okay... maybe i don't want to get married just for my dowry......
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saltofmercury · 1 year
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.
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scattered-winter · 1 year
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So what is your time fuckery au?? I've noticed you mention it a few times in tags but never found a proper 'thing' about it. As in, there's no fic or main art that I can find
(hope your day is going well <3)
ha, yeah, the time fuckery au mostly lives in my brain only at this point. I've written a few scenes here and there, and even posted a few snippets to my blog, but mostly it's just been an ongoing development in my brain only <3 that SAID. i loove talking about it so i'm glad u asked :] (technically "timeline fuckery au" is probably more accurate because that's what I'm messing with: timelines and alternate universes, as opposed to. literal time. but i called it the time fuckery au once and it stuck. so.)
here's the playlist (I'm constantly updating it) :]]
so basically. there are 2 different versions of the call of duty modern warfare franchises: the og, w three games in the mid-2000s, and the reboot with two games between 2019-2022, and a third game in the works. for the most part, the two franchises are fairly aligned w similar events/recurring villains (such as the shepherd betrayal, which happened in both versions, but in the og it resulted in the deaths of ghost and roach, but in the reboot nobody died. in fact, overall in the og games, everyone on the team was dead by the end except one of them.) in this au, the two versions are alternate, adjacent timelines. all the deaths that happen in both* timelines are fundamentally Not Supposed To Happen, and so some Freaky Timeline Shit occurs to try and correct it. the two soaps trade places. og soap ends up in the reboot timeline with the reboot team, and reboot soap ends up in the og timeline with the og team. at this point, reboot soap and ghost are in a relationship, and the 141 is all very close, and so of course it's a big mess when soap wakes up in a universe where everyone looks like his closest friends/boyfriend but they are, fundamentally, different people. and the same goes for og soap, who's suddenly thrown into a room with people he half-recognizes but none of them are Right. and what's more, some of the team is Not There when they should be. (like roach).
*as of the 2022 game, nobody in the main team has died yet, BUT the third game is involving makarov, who was the villain who caused the deaths of several team members in the og, so I'm taking some liberties with the timeline during that period. so in the unchanged reboot timeline, several team members died.
(i would also like to point out that the actual switch happens before all the deaths happen, obviously. HOWEVER, both soaps know exactly how the original, unchanged timelines are gonna turn out if they don't do anything. it's basically just a very fucked up timeloop.)
to make matters worse, the soaps are connected to each other even before the actual switch happens. reboot soap has nightmares of his team dying right in front of him (gaz shot, ghost burned, etc) but they're not his team. they're the og team. but ofc he doesn't know this yet <3 and this ofc happens vice versa, but I haven't figured out specifics for how the reboot team dies yet so I can't tell you anything about it lmao
and the dreams don't stop after the switch!!! because why bother sending them to alternate dimensions if not to remind them what will happen if they fail!!!! and the entire time, they're also racing against time because having two people Cross Realities is throwing the continuum out of whack, and so it's trying to Find Equilibrium Again by merging the two soaps more and more as time goes on. reboot soap wakes up with a scar that he didn't have before, but remembers getting. on a mission he never went on. og soap is talking to ghost (with all the awkwardness of talking to someone who's dating your alternate self) and he calls ghost something that only soap--reboot soap--ever called him. he just. Knew. and so on top of everything else, they also have all the fear of slowly losing themselves <33
and of course they manage to save both teams (and also bring reboot roach into the team godbless <33) and things return to normal but not before there's a LOT of angst and timeloops and timeline fuckery going on. this whole au is basically me just taking both canons and attacking them with scissors and then gluing the little pieces together into a collage. and then rinse and repeat. I'm having soooo much fun with it :]]]] and of course, at the end before the timelines fully go back to normal, the teams get to meet their alternate selves :]] self recognition through the other except it's you from another life :]]] here's a lil snippet :]]]]]]
Simon stood in space. Stars wheeled overhead and below, clustered in colorful nebulas in explosions of color and light.
And across from him stood…himself.
Ghost was holding himself the same way Simon did; weight evenly distributed on each foot, gaze constantly shifting from person to person and window to door. Ready to act at a half second’s notice.
Simon could see the moment Ghost noticed him; a slight stiffening to the shoulders, a straightening of the spine, a subtle slide of the foot to gain a better defensive stance. All miniscule tells, but to Simon, glaringly obvious, a blinking neon sign.
Were Simon’s tells always this clear, or was it simply because he knew to look for them? He could read the other Ghost like a book; the subtle tilt to his head as he sized him up, the tension in his shoulders as he decided if Simon was a threat. He could read the other Ghost and see how he himself was being read; another tilt to Ghost’s head as he clearly came to the same conclusion as Simon.
“You’re the other one.” His voice took Simon off-guard. He wasn’t sure what he was expecting, but this wasn’t it: soft, rounded at the edges, like a stone worn smooth by a stream. But behind it was that edge, that gentle tone of danger. Even from a different world, that was still the same, with perfect, striking clarity.
Simon wasn’t sure what to say. What was there to be said? Here he stood, before someone who was his double in nearly every way, who likely already knew what he was thinking because he was thinking it, too.
“How’s the team?” was what he said at last, rough, abrasive voice grating against Ghost’s softer tone.
“In one piece. Thanks to your man.” Your man. Did this Ghost know what Johnny meant to him? He must; he was Simon, after all.
“Yours did good work here, too,” Simon said, though they both knew Captain Mactavish wasn’t his.
They fell silent, as they both preferred, simply studying one other. Ghost had sunglasses over his mask to veil his eyes, something that Simon had done himself on occasion. He liked it when nobody could see his eyes, but hated how it limited his field of vision.
It was unnerving, the way he was so very much like himself. The mask, the name, the way Ghost stood. He was a dead man walking, they both were. Had he suffered the same things Simon had suffered? He must have; why else would he wear the mask, and stand like that, like an attack might come from any direction?
For a moment, Simon looked at Ghost and Ghost looked at Simon. A pair of reflections, a pair of echoes. For the first time in his life, Ghost could peer out into the darkness and see his own face looking back at him.
Then Simon broke the silence, voice as haggard and vulnerable as he would allow it to be in the empty space between worlds, where stars flickered under their feet and where there was nobody to hear but himself.
“Were we better off dead?”
Ghost paused for a moment, hesitated, looked Simon up and down, and Simon knew he wasn’t just seeing him standing there. He was seeing the coffin six feet under, the choking dirt, the dead bodies in the flat in London, the rivers of blood staining his hands, so much of it that he could never wash it all off. The nightmares. The kills. The missions, one after another after another, because the war never ended, not really, not for him.
“I don’t know. Maybe we were.”
And there wasn’t anything else to say, not after that. Simon sighed, felt the universe sigh with him, and dipped his head in acknowledgement. A few feet away Ghost did the same, and had Simon been able to see his eyes, he would have seen himself reflected there, just like everywhere else.
And then the stars and the mirrors melted away, and Simon woke up.
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library-by-pixie · 2 years
Text
To Be a Fire by Hallow_fiend
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alwaysshallow · 7 months
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boys trying to survive nnn with their partner (141 + los vaqueros + könig x f!reader)
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a/n: if it wasn't for @blissful-bunny, there wouldn't be nnn. LMAOOO i hope y'all will enjoy, it's my first time doing something like this... and i think i don't hate it as i did before!
mdni, as always. nsfw below + keegan's version here
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Simon "Ghost" Riley
Being around Ghost durning this time is funny, to say the least. You know about this bet from Gaz, when you invited the whole Task Force 141 for dinner. There wasn't much of a reaction from you, just a nod and a hum that's interesting to hear that. Nothing more, until your boyfriend's friends went home, and you stayed with him, washing dishes.
"You think you're gonna last?" you ask, and you pretty much can't stop yourself from laughing when he gives you a side eye.
"'s just a month." he grumbles, and you know, you somehow irritated him. Or, the bet did, you're not really sure. "Been through worse."
Theoretically, it is true. He's military, he has seen things that you won't ever see, something so stupid like this challenge shouldn't be something hard to do.
Practically? Practically, he takes every fucking chance to get closer to you. You're making breakfast, showering, washing the dishes? He's gonna be right behind you. It's not surprising at first, he liked to be near you always, but it has a malicious intent to it, when he drags his clothed cock up and down your ass, grunting right into your ear. He gets you worked up, and you're pretty sure he's gonna lose, but he stops right before he cums.
You can't really decide if it's funny or sad to see him like this. It's his pained expression that he gives when he bites on his lower lip, grumbling something about watching you touching yourself, so it will be better. You can't really say no to a man starved, so you put out a show for him, thinking how so much better his fingers would be in your pussy.
If it would depend on you, you'd kneel and relieve him, but what can you do, when he has this ridiculous challenge of his?
He breaks after two days, when he sees you in your shared gym, exercising. It's unexpected, when he puts down dumbbells you were working with, doing squats; you want to ask what's wrong, but when he lifts you up, your back hitting the wall, you just know. You even forgive him when he doesn't prep you enough, and he just thrusts into you without much thinking of it, his balls heavy.
You know you won't leave this gym for a long time.
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Kyle "Gaz" Garrick
"You're participating in what?"
To say it was weird, was one thing. To say that Kyle does it, was even weirder, especially that he was straight from two months of deployment. Needy. You knew it, as you were with him almost three years by now, he had always spent hours in bed with you because he missed you like a madman. These two months were pretty much the longest you've been separated with him, so, you can imagine your surprise, when you learned about the challenge, when you two were cleaning your apartment. He was touching you every now and then, giving you little kisses, and now he was talking about something like this.
"I'm—"
"—No, I heard you" you chuckled, shaking your head. "I'm like… trying to understand who convinced you to do so."
"Bet with Soap. Lad thinks 'm not gonna last with you." he murmurs, and you just know that this motherfucker made this as a personal challenge. So, you just nod your head, to Kyle's surprise on his pretty face. "That's… all you're gonna say?"
"What else I'm supposed to say?" you raise your eyebrow, amused. "That I feel sorry for you, this will do?"
"That ain't funny."
"It is, kind of funny." you grin, as you kiss his forehead, at which he closes his eyes, so you repeat kissing his forehead a few times. "I'm gonna support you in this, yeah? So it's gonna be easier."
It wasn't easier. You could see that he glances at you every now and then, when you are doing domestic things around the house, giving him little, encouraging smiles. Little do you know that Kyle's bulge is growing larger and larger every time he looks at you.
Gaz is pretty calm, at least until he sees you in his t-shirt (that is way too big for you) and just panties underneath, sitting right beside him with a bowl of popcorn. You two planned to watch a movie, but your boyfriend quickly brushes it off, as his hand wanders under the hem of your panties.
"Kyle, you—"
"I know." he almost growls, as he puts you on his lap.
The moment he feels your wetness, he's a gone man; he makes you ride him, and the challenge is just a fading memory, when his lips attack yours.
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John "Soap" MacTavish
Soap is absolutely offended when everyone in Task Force 141 tells him he's gonna lose the challenge. He can't shut up about it for an hour straight, as he lays with his head on your lap, telling you something about celibacy and being true lover, not some "horny arse like the others". You listen to it with a small, amused smile on your lips because as much as you love your boyfriend, everyone is right about it.
He's not gonna last, and he knows it personally too, but you say nothing about it. You just listen to Johnny's ramblings, until his eyes are on you, observing your reaction so casually.
"What do ya think? 'm gonna beat it? Be the best?" he tilts his head like a puppy, squinting his eyes. It's an icy ground you're standing on right now.
"I think… it's gonna be hard." you answer; slowly, reluctantly. It's not something that he wants to hear though, as he groans, shaking his head with displeasure. "What? You asked!"
"I ken it's gonna be hard. 'm askin', if 'm gonna beat it" he emphasizes his last words, and you can feel he barely holds himself from rolling his eyes.
"…well, baby, as much as I have faith in you in other things…"
It's not a good answer for him, nor for a challenge, considering that you end up getting fucked by him – it's some kind of punishment, he tells you, when he folds you in half. He tells you that he also didn't lose the challenge, technically, as you had sex November 1st , at 3 a.m. You nod, hesitantly, so you could go to sleep without causing him to ramble about it again; you are exhausted.
It takes him three days of fucking you in various places to finally come into the conclusion that the challenge isn't for him. Three days of promising and hearing him whining that it's gonna be 'st the tip, baby, to feel you good.
"Good that you've figured that out." you say with a small smile, in restaurant's bathroom, his forehead against yours, as his cock is still buried deep inside you.
"Lasted longer than lads. Sure of that."
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John Price
You want to think of your husband highly, when you hear of this stupid thingy. The authority, someone that leads the Task Force 141, setting the example for his younger proteges with his willpower. Someone who actually cares about engaging in challenges, even if they're stupid, even if he shouldn't even look at something like this.
Yet, you know John, you're married to him, for God's sake – and you know his sex drive. When this man is home, nothing and no one stops him from getting what he wants, and that's on you. In your mind, there's a core memory of him saying that he absolutely loves your pussy, multiple times.
So it's not a surprise that he doesn't participate in this challenge. It's not a surprise when he babbles about having kids with you while he fucks you wherever he can; kitchen counter, under the shower, your couch. His obsession over kids grew over this month more than ever, and you were happy to meet his expectations in a middle, since you thought of having a little angel in your small family for a longer time now. Having a dog wasn't enough.
A surprise comes when he proudly admits that he won in the end of the month. Boys are pretty much shocked by this, considering that their Captain didn't even look frustrated once, and he was in better mood than usual. Yet, they don't have a place to complain, so they accept the defeat with a frown on their faces, and a quick comment from Soap that he for sure cheated.
"You didn't win, honey." you laugh to him, sitting at his lap, when he's in his office, alone.
Price arches his eyebrow in amusement. "I did."
"That's not really—"
"Listen, we were tryin' for babies, weren't we? It wasn't egoistical fuckin'." he explains, completely serious.
It takes all in you not to either gasp or laugh again. "So, if it would be without the intention of making babies, you'd lose?"
He gives you a quick nod. "Exactly, missus. Exactly."
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Alejandro Vargas
It's easy to last a few days for Alejandro. Maybe even a week, or a bit more. With his kind of work, being a Colonel, you often didn't see him for days, or even weeks if it was a bad time. Right now, with working over destroying a Mexican cartel, being home was rare for him. Was it saddening? Of course, but you knew what you were doing when you married him, you've talked with him about it for days, maybe weeks, even.
So, maybe that's why he didn't really think much of a challenge when he agreed to it, one of the nights he was drinking with Los Vaqueros. Just for fun, just to make a fun memory in this mess they were in. Days were passing in the blink of an eye with the same routine; a few hours of sleep if he's lucky, patrol, documents, action and repeat. Nothing too fancy, nothing too new for a man of war like he is, he got used to it all.
Harder was the moment he came home to you, where you were waiting for him with your open arms, all needy for his presence, for his touch, but somehow, somehow he managed, giving you the best orgasm of your life with his mouth only, even if he was in need too.
"Cariño?" he calls you, confused, when he doesn't see you in bed in the next morning. In his sweatpants only, he goes to the kitchen, following the sound of pan that sizzles lazily in the background.
"Makin' breakfast, Ale!" you reply, looking behind your shoulder with the biggest smile that slowly falters the moment you see his eyes darkening in the span of seconds. "What's with the face?"
He approaches you slowly, caging you between his arms. "Just… appreciating" he says, as he starts kissing your neck "my little wife. Who's been really patient with me, gone for so many days. And now, you're making me breakfast—" he groans, shaking his head. You can feel his growing bulge, as you grind your ass against it.
It's obvious that Colonel lost the challenge, after he arrives to his work with his wife, his arm possessively around her. Why? Maybe it's your neck covered in hickeys, your trembling legs, or his arms visibly scratched, but no one says anything about it in the base.
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Rodolfo "Rudy" Parra
You have a kind of forbidden romance with him; you're the one of Los Vaqueros, and the romance is absolutely prohibited here, to prevent the collapse of the squad. Not to mention that he's a right hand man of Alejandro, so he has to follows the rules directly. Maybe even more than anyone here, to be honest; setting an example that he's not a exception to the rule.
It doesn't help that you're so kind. That you nod every time you see him as a silent greeting, and then you rush to do whatever you have to do today. It doesn't help him that you're helping everyone around you with a smile that could light up the whole town, and he smiles every time he sees it, too.
Everyone pictures that Rudy would win the challenge easily, since in their heads, his head wasn't occupied with anyone, and he could easily withold himself with his desires.
And maybe he would. Maybe he would, if you weren't the one guarding the base with him, if you weren't the one who was smiling at him with those plump lips of yours.
"If you'd only know how much I thought about… hah—" his breaths are ragged, as the pace of his hips gets quicker. His lips finds yours, as he kisses you with such hunger, you know without a doubt that he means what he says. It automatically makes you smile.
"It's fate that binds us, then" you say, your fingernails clutching at his arms; you're sure that you're the creator of bloody crescents here, but you can't care less about it. Not when the man of your dreams is fucking you.
He smiles at your words.
Rudy never been a good liar, and you painfully learn it, when Alejandro asks him why he's so happy; as you stand nearby, you hear the whole conversation. It's cute in some way, the way he's a blabbering mess, without any sense of it.
It takes Colonel's one look at you, and he knows.
You never walked faster to your work, neither did Rudy.
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Konig
If you think he's gonna even try playing at this, you're in deep denial. Maybe if he'd be alone he could try of a genuine curiosity, but not when he has you. Such a pretty, obedient girlfriend, that he has wrapped around his finger, and a girlfriend that is pretty much at his service every time he wants.
He's a man to laugh about that challenge with his squad, telling them that they're filthy, and he would last the whole month, maybe even longer, if it weren't for you. Because he's such a caring boyfriend, he listens to your needs, even if you're whiny.
At least, that's the story that his squad knows.
He tells you about this while he folds you in half, that he needs to act a little grumpy around his squad, to put a facade that he's hungry because it's the right thing to do. When you suggest that he could even try, he barks a low laugh, while he pumps his cock before thrusting into you.
"Schatz, as if. Not gonna play the kids game." it's all he says, kissing you with affection on your swollen lips. "I do not intend on torturing you like this. You wouldn't survive a day without my dick."
There's some truth to it — but you're truly wondering if that's you who wouldn't survive without his dick, or he, that wouldn't survive without your pussy and sex, considering he is even more of a maniac than you are.
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dividers by cafekitsune
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rileyslibrary · 11 months
Text
It’s lunchtime at the military base, and you can’t decide what to eat. Ghost is getting hangry.
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“It’s a simple question,” he says. “What do you want?”
“I don’t know, Lieutenant.”
“Are you hungry?” He asks and lifts his hands.
“Yes, sir.”
“What exactly are you hungry for?”
“I-I don’t know.”
He drops his arms to his sides and sits at the corner of his desk. He touches the back of his neck with one hand while supporting himself with the other.
“Every fucking day, you do this to me,” he murmurs. “If you don’t decide this time, I’ll go eat alone.”
“Oh! Is that so?” You squint and hunch forward at your desk.
“Yes!” He yells as he stands up and walks towards you. “Yes, I will. In fact, I would love to.”
Your eyebrows shoot up, and your jaw drops. How dare he? You’d been teammates for years, sticking with him through thick and thin, never betraying him once. But now he...
“...Would love to?!”
“That’s right!” He snaps and slams his hands against your desk. “So, for the last time: What. Will. It. Be?”
You lean back in your chair and bite your pen while considering your options. Ghost’s gaze darts from you to the pen, then back. He groans and grabs the pen from your hand, tossing it to the side.
“Pens are off the menu today,” he declares, snapping his fingers, “I need an answer. Now.”
Dumfounded, you stare at the pen on the floor. If someone else had done this to you, you would have slapped them in the face. Worse, if he had watched anyone else treat you that way, he would have ripped their limbs off their body.
But he’s hangry. As insignificant as this conversation appears, he doesn’t handle his hunger with the same poise he handles other, more complex situations. Not only that, but your indecisiveness doesn’t help, either. You need to make a decision quickly, so you sit up straight and place your hands on the table.
“What are my options again?” you ask.
“Pizza or burger.” He replies sternly.
“I don’t want piz—”
“Burger it is, then,” he says with a nod. He knocks his knuckles twice on the desk and strides towards the office door.
“W-wait, Ghost, wait!”
He sighs and leans against the door, his hand on the handle.
“I don’t like the base’s burgers.” You mumble.
“Nobody likes the base’s burgers!” he yells. “But we still eat them!”
“I was wondering,” you say and lower your voice, “if there is another choice?”
He’s softly bashing his head against the door, and you try to persuade him that there should be a third option—a vegetarian meal, perhaps. In response, he begins making whimpering noises. He’s the one getting on your nerves now.
“You know what?” you snap, “I’ll go check by myself.”
He extends a hand in your direction and shows you his palm.
“No, no, no, no!” he cries. “You join the others in the queue, and the entire base will starve until you decide!”
You scoff at his sarcasm, and he opens the door.
“Listen,” he says, “I’ll go check and call you, okay?”
“LIEUTENANT!” you shout, but he slams the door behind him. You peek over at his desk. “You forgot your phone...” you murmur to yourself.
The lieutenant was a very cold man when you first met him. His responses were limited to yeses and nos with the occasional shrug, and he never joined you in everyday job activities, especially at lunchtime. You’d always eat alone in the mess hall, and if your breaks coincided with that of Gaz or Soap’s, you’d sit with them and eat lunch together. Ghost would normally sit in the office or hide in a corner around the base and eat since he didn’t want anyone to see him without his mask. But slowly, he came to trust you all with his face, and you’d eat together, locked in your office.
You look at the time. Given his hunger when he left, he should have returned five minutes ago. What if he gave up on you and is already eating with the rest? Sure, your indecisiveness annoys him, especially since he has to deal with it daily, but he’d never let you eat alone, right? On the other hand... he may be trying to teach you a lesson.
You take another glance at the time. This doesn’t feel right. You start cleaning up your desk to head for the kitchen, but someone knocks on the door.
“It’s open,” you announce, “come on in!”
“I’ve got my hands full.” You hear Ghost reply.
You walk up to the door and swing it open. Ghost stands there with a serving trolley full of dishes.
“Thanks,” he murmurs while he pushes the trolley inside the office.
“You forgot your phone!” you inform him.
“I didn’t forget it,” he says as he stops the trolley in front of your desk. “I’d rather put my bare hand in a fire and let it simmer than add a third option to your dilemma and let you decide while there’s a queue of starving soldiers behind me.”
He removes the plates from the trolley and arranges them on your desk. “Here’s the fucking pizza, the fucking shitburger, and the tofu version of the shitburger.”
He places another plate with five pizza slices on his desk. He removes his mask and immediately slaps a piece in his mouth.
“That’s a lot of food, Lt.,” you whisper, scanning the plates before you.
He turns his head towards you and keeps chewing. “Yeah,” he says, swallowing, “better have all the options in front of you than squeeze any reserve of patience I have left.”
You take a slice of pizza from your tray and bite into it.
He stares at you, raises his plate to the sky, and rambles about how “you didn’t want pizza before.” You clarify that, while you still don’t want pizza, it appears to be the best option among the three.
“However,” you continue, “I would murder for a good burger.”
He swallows and takes a second pizza slice from his plate.
“I know a place,” he explains. “We can go tonight.”
“Lieutenant, you smooth operator!” you tease, “like on a date?”
He nods and takes another mouthful. He doesn’t even bother looking at you. He’s too preoccupied with nourishing his massive body to worry about your mocking.
“What kind of a place is it?” You ask.
“It’s a shithole,” he says, “but it does the best burgers you’ve ever had.”
“So, what should I wear?”
He stops eating and aggressively shakes his head.
“Nuh-uh,” he says. “I won’t get involved in your woes again—I’ll give you the address, and you’ll be there at 8 p.m.”
“Are you going to email me the menu so I can decide what to eat ahead of time?”
He swallows and looks at you. “I wouldn’t worry about that,” he says, taking another bite.
“Why?”
“Because there’s no menu at my place.”
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