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Goin' Dark.

@ghostandsoap

Alli | 21 | Requests are closed | ao3: allikatt9 | Main blog: allikatt9

Sitting with a Show

John "Soap" MacTavish x Fem! Reader Tags: NSFW. Smut. Cockwarming. Soap being a jerk lol. A/N: Horrible title. Will change it when I come up with something better. Word Count: 1.0k "Your odds are lookin' good."

"Hey, hey..." Soap warned, his grip on your hips tightening. "Stop it. Watchin' the game here."

"John, this is ridiculous," You hissed. "There will be a million soccer games other than this one."

"Football," He corrected, giving the side of your thigh a smack. "None of that soccer rubbish."

"It's the same thing," You gruffed, whimpering when he shifted his hips underneath you. "Every game is the same."

simon riley who you "meet" through a program where you can send care packages to soldiers. you don't think much of it at first, just a simple package with a few necessities and treats. and along with that, a short, but genuine and handwritten letter thanking the unknown soldier to you for their service.

and when you go to retrieve your mail a few weeks later after getting home from work, brows furrowing together as you shuffle through the stack of envelopes.

bill. another bill. advertisement. paycheck. handwritten addressed envelope from 'ghost'.

your brain doesn't even connect the dots until you are inside, fingers gently picking at the envelope until your able to drag a finger through the seal to open it. a simple piece of what looks like notebook paper is pulled from inside. unfolding it, eyes quickly scan the letter to get an idea what it's about.

you've done plenty of care packages before. never did you get a personalized thank you letter back, so, this was a first. the letter starting off by thank you for the package and that he enjoyed the items, especially the "sweet treats". the two words put in quotations as he referred to what you referred to them as in your own letter. your own brain cringing slightly as you remember what you wrote.

again, thank you for all that you do and enjoy the sweet treats!

and while you expected the letter to end after thanking you, it didn't. additional lines asking about you. the sets of questions ranging from asking how long have you been doing the care packages to general questions about yourself. then, at the very end, after signing off as 'ghost', you couldn't help but notice the chicken scratch of handwriting that added:

p.s. you don't need to respond back if you don't want to, just figured it be nice to get something back in return. thanks again.

Ugh this is such a cute trope 😭😭

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omg imagine mma fighter simon fighting someone and while simon's well known for not being easily rattled - he takes all the taunts, disrespect, and cheap tactics of his opponents with a clear head (bc he knows he will absolutely demolish them in the ring later). but then one opponent decides to make a crude comment about you - the cute little thing simon's always got hanging off his arm <3

and simon just goes fucking berserk and everyone has to hold him back from caving his opponents skull in <3

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I will forever love this transition. It proves how the years have changed and molded John Price, it shows his growth after nine years - from 2009 to 2019

The Battle of Coming Home

John Price x Fem! "Peach" Reader Tags: Angst. Anxiety. Anxious John. Worried Peach. Domestic fic if you squint. Word Count: 2.4k "But we both see the same things."

β‹†Λ™βŸ‘β‹†Λ™βŸ‘β‹†Λ™βŸ‘β‹†Λ™βŸ‘

β‹†Λ™βŸ‘β‹†Λ™βŸ‘β‹†Λ™βŸ‘β‹†Λ™βŸ‘

There's a lot of things that people don't tell you when you sign up to protect the world from all the evil that's in it.

They don't tell you about the silence that engulfs you when the gunfire ceases, or the way your heart pounds in the stillness. They don't tell you about the late nights when you're in an unfamiliar place, your home feeling like a distant memory.

They don't tell you about the friendships that you make, forged in conflict and bonds stronger than steel. Friendships built on mutual respect and relatability. They definitely don't tell you about the pain of losing one of those friends.

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