#soap modern warfare

[glittergoblinzz]

Imagine: Being Soap's Younger Sibling AFTER His Death

CW: Ghost being a cold bastard, slight angst, just a dumb drabble

very slight ghoap implication if you squint hard enough

_________________

You're Johnny's younger sister/brother. Shit, you're the youngest child out of the MacTavish children. One day, you get the news that Johnny died in the middle of a mission.

He never introduced you to the boys, never wanted you to be part of what he did. He wanted to protect you, wanted you to have a normal life he never got to have

But no, of course not. You're too stubborn to listen to anyone, even your late older brother. You decide to join up with the SAS shortly after Johnny's passing. The same cousin who had pulled Johnny into the army pulled some strings, and along with your outstanding skills, you got placed into Task Force 141 several years after joining the military.

Price's eyes practically bulge out of his head when Laswell brings you in to introduce you to the team. You look so much like Johnny that it hurts....Got his bright blue eyes and a squeaky clean face that makes you look like you could do no wrong. Obviously, Price is extremely hesitant about letting you join the team with you being Soap's youngest sibling and with how much you look like his late Sergeant. He was worried how the rest of the team would react to you being there, especially Ghost.

Laswell eases his worries just enough to get Price to cave....and soon enough, you're standing in front of what was left of the squad.

You could see the deep pain in Gaz's eyes as he tried playing it off like nothing is wrong. He comes up to you and immediately pulls you into a huge hug....but Ghost? He just stands off to the side. His eyes show nothing but anger and hate in them.

He's furious that you're here. You knew Johnny wouldn't want you here. You were blatantly disrespecting your late brother's wishes and memory all the while not seeming to care.

When you walked over to him to introduce yourself, he didn't say or do anything except stare daggers at you from beneath his balaclava. If looks could kill, you'd be dead a dozen times over. The way your brows furrow when he stays silent...The way you frowned as if offended that he was staying silent....the same exact facial expression down to the slight pout of your bottom lip. It was the same exact expression Johnny would give Ghost whenever the Scot would be annoyed with his best friend.

Ghost, with a slight huff, left the room without saying a single word to you. He would make it his mission to push you away, to make you want to leave and go back to your little farm home in Scotland so you could live the life Johnny wanted for you; not the life you wanted to live. He didn't care if this was what you wanted to do. All he cared about was Johnny. Not you....

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I might turn this into something more than just a short drabble, maybe not. If someone wants to pick up the idea then go right ahead. I just had this idea while writing the third part for the Ghoap surrogacy fic and HAD to jot it down but I didn't want the idea to rot in my drafts for MONTHS on end

[soapsbullet]

People keep forgetting that Soap could probably fireman carry Ghost have you SEEN his muscles

[abc-ok]

got ye LT~

[greatstormcat]

Thinking about being someone the taskforce boys because very close to, but you don’t work directly with them. Perhaps a medic that they gravitate towards after missions and training incidents. After a a few months you find that the dating pool dries up, anyone you think would be a good candidate for a date starts to flake on you with no notice. Even just trying to get a one night stand becomes harder and harder. Prospective partners just seem to… run scared, even when you seem to be getting on so well.

Sometimes, when a date is agreed, you’ll end up having to cancel because work gets in the way, such as Gaz needs your attention after Soap landed a punch during sparring practice. Once Ghost was having a flare up of his shoulder injury and no one else in the med bay wanted to cover for you because that big bastard was in a bad mood and intimidating everyone. Funnily enough he was perfectly sweet once you appeared and you spent a few hours strapping the injury and chatting.

This goes on the months, the longest dry spell of your life, and the frustration is painted on your face everyday. If you don’t get laid soon you feel you are going to lose your mind. The constant let down was enough to make you weep in your lowest moments. Coupled with the increasing amount of time you were spending around the Taskforce, huge slabs of muscle and menace, you were on a hair trigger.

You’d promised yourself not to turn to them though, they didn’t need some groupie chasing them around, not another one anyway. There were plenty of people on base throwing themselves at Soap and Gaz, and watching them get turned away was painful. Even Price and Ghost had their own fan clubs, but no one was bold enough to be as open about trying to get into their bunks. What chance would you stand with them when they turned away men and women you couldn’t begin to compare yourself to? Enter to stay friends with them.

In the end, you found out about a private club in town that promised anonymous sex in a safe and controlled location. You made your mind up and filled out the application. A few weeks later you find yourself in one of their cubicles, naked, and staring at the padded bench that joins the wall. At the end of it, a large hole with a curtain stares back at you. All you had to do was lie down on the bench and put your lower half through the hole. On the other side, someone would… join you. Or several someones. You’d signed up for multiple partners, maybe doing the form drunk wasn’t wise.

Swallowing your nerves, you take a deep breath and get onto the bench, shuffling down so your feet and hips slotted through the gap. Almost immediately warm, large hands grip your ankles and guide them into stirrups gently. You barely hide the jolt of shock and the accompanying squeak of shock, and the pair of hands run over your knees and shins slowly, comfortingly. It’s an oddly tender gesture for someone who doesn’t know who is the other side of the wall.

Then your eyes roll back into your skull as hot breath fans across your pussy. Finally, you sigh in relief as a tongue licks a light strip along the seam of your pussy. Once the mystery man begin to lick and suck expertly at your clit, making your toes curl and you breath coming in urgent gasps, you barely register the scratch of beard against your delicate skin or notice there’s more than one set of rough hands on your legs.

[inkarmatqq]

Heterosexuals

[hffhifjou]

thank you for the commision !

[chomchomcherrybomb]

Has this been done already? Probably 😭

[morthern]

stole another textpost, drew a soap c:

[adas-trashheap]

Night Terrors

Fun fact, this is the first comic or whatever you want to call it that I ever made. Spend way too much time on this

[ghouljams]

More Viking!Soap because I couldn't think of anything to beat knight!Ghost with and I need something to be cathartic no matter how small that catharsis is.

It takes another day to reach the coast. The waves beat against the cliffside, Mactavish’s hand is tight around yours as he helps you down the rocky path. Your feet ache, and you do your best not to stumble. His hands grip your hips, lifting you up off a rock he’d jumped down from. As easy as moving a child. You’re set back on uneven ground and he doesn’t look at you. Singularly focused, you think to yourself.

You understand why. Down at the beach you can see men, fire, a long ship with a curling bow. You grip Mactavish’s hand tighter, a small comfort you cease as soon as you start. He doesn’t comment on it, except to squeeze your hand quickly in return. 

“I should have asked earlier,” He mumbles, “you’re a healer, right?”

You feel your heart tumble into your stomach. That’s right, you’re only alive because you’re useful. Only brought along because he had no other options after your village was burned. 

“I’m still learning,” You tell him quietly. He lets out a breath, nods shortly.

“Know more than the rest of ‘em, I’d bet.” He assures you with a smile. “Say yes the next time someone asks, you’ll live longer.”

It’s not a threat, not from him at least, but it’s a guarantee. Healers live longer, and you have nothing else to your name to defend yourself with. He certainly isn’t going to defend you. You think it might be a chill from the sea air that makes you shiver. 

Mactavish walks in front of you down the beach. He keeps hold of your hand, as if you had somewhere to run to, and keeps you behind him as he approaches the other vikings. You peak around him, you don’t think you’ve ever seen men so big as them. The furs and paint on their faces denote their trade as easily as their braided hair and combed beards. Walking behind Mactavish you can see the tiny braids that wind through his hair as well, the small shiny beads and clips of metal hidden within the woody brown. 

One of the men near the edge of camp spots you both and makes his way towards your companion. Your hand is dropped to clap into the waiting palm of the other viking, who embraces Mactavish with a smile.

“What took you? Thought we’d have to send out a search,” The man laughs. He feels friendly but his eyes, a warm russet against his dark skin, sharpen when they touch you. “Just the one?” He asks, “Thought there’d be more willing to work.” Your shoulders stiffen, your arms close against your sides. Danish, you think, maybe. You know it well enough to keep your mouth shut. Mactavish glances at you.

“They were burning by the time I got there,” He says quietly, the danish feels so foreign on his tongue after hearing him speak gaelic. It breaks your heart anew to hear your tragedy described so callously. It helps seeing the other man’s eyes soften. “Tell Ghost not to scare ‘er, had enough of that for a lifetime,” Mactavish finishes, and you feel something squeeze in your stomach. The other viking nods.

“Happy to have a healer aboard again,” The viking tells you, his accent is pretty decent, the gaelic smooth on his tongue. “She’s pretty,” He mumbles to Mactavish, switching back to danish as quick as could be.

“Leave it,” Mactavish warns, his teeth bared with a flash of white. You tune him out, translating is making you tired, and look around camp. The fire is roaring, and men stare at you with open curiosity. Their interest makes your skin crawl. So many men, unfamiliar men, with the same propensity for violence as all vikings. You can’t think of a deeper abyss to throw yourself into, more bears to surround yourself with. “You alright?” Mactavish asks you, the gaelic snapping you from your thoughts.

“What do you care?” You snap at him, trying to keep your barbs sharp in the hopes others will see your bite. Maybe it will keep you safe. Mactavish’s eyes slide from yours, looking at the other men in camp.

“They won’t hurt you,” He tells you. What does he know? Men never think their peers are capable of the things women warn each other about. You say nothing, and after a moment Mactavish moves. Out of the corner of your eye you see him unfasten the pin holding together the fur around his neck. He’s quick to wrap it around your shoulders, hardly bothered you haven’t tilted your chin for him as he fastens it to your earasaid. “Gods if I ever have the time,” He mumbles to himself, his fingers toying with the pin. You get the feeling he’s not used to his gaelic being understood.

“You’ll what?” You challenge, eyes still fixed on the camp. His fingers hold your chin, dragging your attention back to him. It’s a gentle movement, but you tense at his touch. He’s quick to release you.

“Court you properly,” Mactavish clears his throat, fingers fixing the fur into place, “but this’ll do for now. You have my word-” his eyes are more serious when you meet them, “-no one will touch you.”

Sure, you tug yourself from his grip, you’ll believe that when you see it.

[konigsblog]

Heya! Sorry if it's stupid ask, but I have read your post a while ago that you're Scottish (If I'm wrong then I'm sorry and I would feel embarrassed.🙃) And I want to write Sergeant Johnny Mactavish and Captain John Mactavish x reader. And since they are also Scottish I want to write/them say some Scottish lines, or just words. So I was hoping what usually Scottish people will say, I don't want to mess up. I only know aye, shite and lass but that's much about it.

Sorry if my English is bad.

And I wish you an great day/night/evening!😊

SCOTTISH PHRASES AND WORDS TO USE WHILE WRITING FOR SOAP MACTAVISH.

— yes! i am scottish, so here's some phrases and words i hear, and say, in scotland and what other scottish people usually say. :)

bonnie = that means calling someone pretty, like bonnie lass means pretty girl, since lass means girl. i'd say this is usually aimed towards girls, like a man would call a woman a bonnie.

lad means boy, like a friend usually. lads is plural ofc, and you could use it to say soap and the lads, or his pals. — “me and the lads.” (lads isn't scottish, it's british - which obviously being scottish means your british, but anywhere in great britain you'd hear this. as well as the one below.)

pals means friends, friend is a pal. — “thought he was yer pal.” = “thought he was your friend.”

dinnae = don't, it's how we say it in our accent. “dinnae do that.”

dae = means do, again, how we say it in our accent. “dae that for me.”

“haud yer wheesht” means shut up, like be quiet.

blether means talk, you might call someone a blether if they gossip or they're a chatterbox. — “stop blethering.”

crabbit means to be annoyed or grumpy. — “why ye crabbit?”

aye means yes. — “aye, dae that.”

ken means know. “a ken that.” not the barbie doll, it means know :) — “a ken that.” means “i know that.”

eejit means idiot. — “yer' an eejit.”

“ah umnae” means im not. ‘ah’ means im, or i, ‘umnae’ means not. it's hard to explain, just our accents though.

‘peely wally’ means pale. (heard this too many times towards myself, im pale as paper..) — “yer' lookin' a bit peely wally.” honestly, i don't think you'd need to say this that often in fanfics with soap, but maybe if someone is ill, you'd say that.

“gonnae no do that” means don't do that. “gonnae” means gonna, so like “gonna not do that” you'd say to someone if they did something you didn't want them to do.

“yer bum's oot the windae!” you're lying, being dramatic, or over exaggerating something.

“dafty” means stupid. — “yer' a dafty.”

VIDEOS TO WATCH FOR HELP AND UNDERSTANDING OF THE ACCENT:

it shows the accent differences between a scottish person, an english person, and an irish person.

https://youtu.be/Z-WliS0HHF8?feature=shared

[mockerycrow]

photos from my john mactavish inspo pinterest board !

[ivory-icyicicle]

Here’s a redraw of one of my old art piece of König ;)

Thx for 300+ followers btw

[soapsbullet]

Captain Mactavish writing “How many times can a man save your life until it's no longer your own” in his journal after getting saved again is KILLING ME why is he so depressing I love him so much oh my god give my man a BREAK he’s so underrated

[greatstormcat]

Headcanon: cockwarming with TF141

Price

Likes when you use your mouth the best.

Would have you do this every night if it was possible, he loves the gentle intimacy of this.

Soft tummy makes a perfect pillow for your head while you hold him in your mouth. He will tuck the covers around you if you’re doing this is bed, strokes your hair and he quietly loses his ever loving mind if you fall asleep.

Bonus points if you do this after sex so you can taste yourself on him.

Gaz

Preference for ass/pussy.

Loves this early in the morning when you both first wake up and he can get himself slotted into you while you spoon.

He knows exactly what to do to get go to the point where you are begging him for more though. Every. Single. Time.

Ghost

It’s chest to chest while he is doing paperwork for him, and he will stay hard the entire time. Doesn’t mind you under the desk but much prefers having you closer to him.

He is a bit of a sod and will use this as a brat taming punishment if you’ve been stepping out of line.

Will settle for cockwarming in bed if you are too exhausted for sex and you really cannot move.

Soap

Yeah… you’re just gettin’ fucked love.

[inkarmatqq]

guess who