#John MacTavish fluff

[gloomwitchwrites]

Hiii, how about our fav 141 men with to a very clumsy reader? Like e.g. I'm someone who keeps accidentally bumping into people while walking because apparently I can't walk a straight line???

Is that something you'd write?:3

Is this something I'd write? Absolutely. This prompt is so cute and the perfect opportunity to write a few drabbles. Thank you for sending it in, and thank you for your patience as I work through all the requests.

Find the Imagines & What If Masterlist HERE

Content & Warnings: hurt/comfort, fluff, canon-typical cursing

ao3 // taglist // main masterlist // imagines & what if masterlist

John Price:

“I’m doing it.”

“No. You’re not.”

You raise the hammer.

“Put it down,” says Price pointing at the ground.

“I’m fully capable.”

“Yes,” admits Price, slowly. “But you always hurt yourself.”

Your husband isn’t wrong. Everything you’ve ever hung on the walls has resulted in a throbbing thumb.

“It’ll be different this time.”

Price shrugs. “Go on then.”

With tongue between teeth, you come down on the nail, striking thumb instead of metal. You turn to him, tears in your eyes.

“Fucking hell,” he mutters. “Come here.”

“Don’t say ‘I told you so.’”

“Wouldn’t dare,” laughs Price, cradling your hand.

Simon "Ghost" Riley:

“We need to—”

“The milk—”

“It’s—”

Simon tugs you to the right and you growl in frustration. “Stop pulling on me.”

Simon glances down and you know he’s smirking behind the black balaclava. “You don’t know how to walk in a straight fucking line.”

“What?”

He nods toward an elderly couple. “Nearly ran them down, love.”

You roll your eyes. You’re yanked backward against Simon’s chest. He places both hands on either side of you against the cart.

“Gotta protect the elderly.”

“Fuck off,” you mutter.

Simon presses his lips to the top of your head, grinning.

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick:

“Let me see, love.”

“It doesn’t hurt.”

Kyle grabs your wrist and inspects the nasty slice. You were in the kitchen preparing dinner and the knife slipped.

“At least the knife wasn’t dull,” murmurs Kyle as he rinses the wound under cold water. He gently washes it with soap, drying it afterward.

“You need to be more careful,” he says softly.

“You say that every time.”

“I mean it every time. I’m not interested in taking you to the hospital.”

Kyle rotates your wrist, covering the wound with a bandage, and places a soft kiss against the wrappings.

“All done.”

John "Soap" MacTavish:

“Can we—”

“Nope,” says John, shaking his head. “Focus.” He places his hands on your shoulders, urging you forward.

“You don’t need to do that.”

John twists you to the side as you almost collide with an antique tea set.

“Oh, aye. I do,” he mutters, gaze darting everywhere, looking for the next victim.

You’re the hazard. Last time the two of you went antique shopping, John had to hand over most of his cash because you kept knocking things over.

“They pack these places on purpose.”

He kisses the top of your head. “No. It’s just you, love.”

taglist:

@glassgulls @km-ffluv @glitterypirateduck @spicyspicyliving @tiredmetalenthusiast @childofyuggoth @coffeecaketornado @aykxz98 @kayden666 @36namey @pearljamislife @miss-mistinguett @keiva1000 @cherryofdeath @pertinentpostmortem @enfppuff @berarenado @saoirse06 @ninman82 @no-oneelsebutnsu @thewulf @hayleybarnesx @lxblm @ferns-fics @ooldcardigan @beebeechaos @enarien @sw33tsnow @kessi-21 @makayla-666 @lifes-project @burn1ngw00d @heeheehoohoohahahihi @lulurubberduckie @ravenpoe67 @jade1605 @miaraei @contractedcriteria @lovely-ateez @gingergirl06 @kidd3ath @leed-bbg @blackhawkfanatic @suhmie

[skauni]

Ghost being a girl dad and Soap being a boy dad and their kids have a play date 😋

Ghost being a girl dad meant that his daughters were pampered in most senses except one: if he says no, there’s no persuading him, not even with their adorable doe eyes. Ghost had 2 daughters, Sydney and Kacie. Both practically exact carbon copies of him. And boy was he dedicated. He even played dress up with the girls and has tea parties with them.

Soap was a boy dad. Three boys. Ferris, J.J.(John Jr.), and Cody. The boys are nothing like Ghost’s girls. They’re all about roughhousing and pranking. And Soap absolutely joins in on that.

Soap and Ghost eventually decide their kids should have a play date, though Soap has to show his boys how to be nicer with the girls and Ghost has to show his girls how to handle the boys. When Soap brought his three boys to Ghost’s house the boys kinda just… stared at the big man dressed in all pink and two girls clinging to his legs. Trying not to giggle, obviously.

Soap and Ghost start to catch up and the kids go off into the back yard. Cody and Ferris had no interest in playing with the girls. But J.J. let Sydney and Kacie play with his hair and, as Gjost says, “make him look pretty.” His brothers laugh at him for it and try to take one of his hairpins out, but are quickly met with a grumpy scowl and an aggressive swat from J.J. When his brothers left him alone he leaned back down for Kacie to do his “makeup” and Sydney sat on her knees as she continued playing with his hair. The girls genuinely having fun with J.J. because he was just accepting whatever they did to him.

The 5 of them were all the same age—except for Kacie, who was 2 years younger than the other 4. Ferris, Cody, and J.J. were triplets and were 7 years old. Sydney was 7 years old as well and Kacie was 5. While Ferris and Cody preferred to play pirates, J.J. actually liked playing dress up, tea party, pretend, all that—with Kacie and Sydney. Liking their calmer personalities more than his two brother’s aggressive personalities.

But, when the girls asked, he played tag with them—purposely going slower when he chased Kacie so she didn’t feel targeted for being slower than her sister. Ghosts and Soap sat on the porch chuckling and sipping on a beer as they watched the 5 kids together. Eventually Soap slipped his hand into Ghost’s. “It’s been lonely withou’ life oon the base, ain’t it? The boys are the oonly company I have left.” Ghost nodded. “My girls are my only company I have left too. But our kids are the ones tha’ brought us back together today. So let’s focus on tha’, aye?” Ghost replied. “Aye.” Soap agreed.

[not-so-casualenjoyer]

You cut the boy's hair :3

Each of the men had their own way of keeping their hair trimmed. Whether they had each other do it or they did it themselves, it always got taken care of eventually, when Johnny’s head of differently length hairs started to grow out funny or Gaz’s curls became much more apparent.

They all had their own ways of cutting their hair, until you came along. A new addition to the team who had some hair cutting experience. And of course, you insisted on helping them.

Ghost

I imagine Simon doesn’t really care how his hair gets cut. The mask covers it all up anyways, so what’s the point? He doesn’t spend meaningless time fussing over his hair when he’s got more important things to worry about.

So often it’s shaggy underneath the mask. And when he takes the trimmers to his head himself, in the dim light of his dingy bathroom, it usually comes out as a very uneven and patchy buzzcut. He doesn’t care, he just prioritizes feeling as un-itchy under the mask as possible. Besides, he can just cover it up until it grows out. No biggie.

It takes a long time to convince him to let you cut his hair for him. Because of course, cutting his hair requires him taking off the mask. And for a while, he’s not sure if he’s ready to bare himself to you like that. So when he finally does, regard it as one of the highest honors.

You take it slow and gentle, telling him everything you’re doing, not forcing him to talk, not staring at his face in the mirror. Unfortunately, your not talking or looking got him worried.

Are you horrified by his face? By his scars? Are you forcing yourself to do this?

Eventually, he just blurts out, “Say something,” before he can stop himself. “Talk. Please.”

From then on, you fill the time with chatting his ear off, talking about anything and everything, just to let him know you’re not terrified of him.

Because Simon honestly doesnt give a flying fuck about what his hair looks like, you like to experiment on him a little bit. Every time you trim his hair, you try out something a little different. You leave the top a bit longer, or give him a middle part and let whisps hang down in front of his face. Sometimes you just buzz it all off (and even leave a little design in the side of his head, if he so obliges.) You like seeing what looks best on him before you settle on a style that you will inevitably cut his hair in forever

Afterwards he’ll give you a gruff thanks in appreciation. He likes the cut more than he’s willing to admit, and he finds catching his appearance in the mirror before he hops in the shower is a little more tolerable now.

Soap

Absolute menace while you’re cutting his hair. Half because he’s trying to annoy the fuck out of you, and half because he’s bored.

He’ll tug on the cutting cape, complaining that it’s around his neck too tight. He’ll rub the back of his neck subconsciously, wiping away the itchy hairs that have fallen from his head while you’re trimming. Can’t sit still, is constantly squirming and fidgeting, which means you have to repeatedly remind him to sit still. Eventually you situate your phone in front of him with something for him to watch so he’ll stop moving around and you can make sure his cut is straight. 

He cuts his hair in the mohawk and nothing else. He’s very, very particular about it, and you comply (Because he’s a drama queen.) I imagine it takes a mix of the clippers and a pair of shears to get the job done. 90% of his hair is lopped off with the clippers, going back over it to make sure everything’s been trimmed to the same length. The 10% of his hair that isn't buzzed is carefully tended to with the shears, shaping the hawk part just right.

He likes to subtly keep his hands on you as you work. If you stand in front of him, he’s got his hands resting on your hips or wrapped around the back of your thighs to pull you closer. After you’re done, he wraps his arms around your waist and pulls you to stand between his legs while he hugs you close, his face buried in your chest.

Gaz

Bro is getting the whole ass spa treatment let me tell you. Before you even cut his hair, he is getting his head, neck, and shoulders massaged.

He’s the easiest to cut for, and an absolute doll. All he requests is that you leave the top a little fluffy, with a gentle fade down. He sits still while you work, smiling adoringly at you in the mirror as your tongue sticks out in concentration. He’s so good and still it just makes you wanna pamper him. Unlike Johnny, who irritates you on purpose and makes you want to nick him with the clippers. You like to leave feathery little kisses on his skin while you work on the back of his neck, trailing down his shoulder. All the stops are pulled out for this man. Products, moisturizing oils for his skin, the cleanest cut anyone’s ever seen. And he happily entertains you with stories and jokes while you work.

Afterwards, he spends a good long while holding you in his lap and pampering you in return.

Price

Price is also an easy man to cut for. He doesn’t let himself get scruffy and believes strongly in being well trimmed. Which means all his hair needs is a few minutes of the clippers to clean up the back of his neck and shorten the length, and he’s good to go.

Price’s hair isn’t really what he usually has you cut. His beard is the main attraction.

This man’s beard is his biggest pride, a central point of his look. It’s like his baby. He is so so so protective and picky about his beard, and he doesn’t trust any of the muppets on the team to trim it for him.

Except you, of course.

He saw how good you did on the other guy’s hair and decided to give you a chance on his facial hair. After a quick demonstration of how he wanted it cut, he sits back and lets you finish the rest off for him. Your hands shake the whole time, worried about messing it up, not doing it right, disappointing your captain and making him look like a fool. Price senses your nervousness as you stand in front of him, eyes laser-focused on trimming his beard. He steadies you with a hand on your hip and a, “Just go slow, sweetheart. Take your time. You’re doing great.”

Once you’re done, he’ll stand in front of the mirror, turning his head side to side to observe your work, making sure it’s even and just bushy enough. You stand behind him, staring at his reflection in anxious anticipation. He turns to you with that smile that makes his mustache curve upwards and nods. “Well done, sweetheart.”

From then on, it becomes a routine to have you trim his beard up. He even lets you lather whatever beard oil you want into his scruff before covering his face in kisses.

[decaf-mother]

[These Are My Tunes]

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141 (Individually) x GN!Reader

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Warnings: None - just fluff.

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Summary: The guys walking in on you listening to music.

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Requested by Anonymous

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Kyle Garrick

You were minding your own business vibing in the living room, music turned way up... Kyle walks in on this, having not warned you he'd be home early.

"Dancing without me, dandelion?" He all but purrs the words, chuckling when you nearly jump out of your skin. "Sorry, sorry."

Apologizes by giving you many kisses and dancing with you.

Simon Riley

Sneaky bastard was on the other side of the house when he heard your lovely voice singing to yourself. No, don't argue. He loves your voice.

He creeped in on you - purposefully remaining quiet so he could watch you. It just brings him such bliss to see you so relaxed.... Till you turn around finally.

"FUCK - SIMON!!!" oops.

John Mactavish

Singing in the shower with this man around is just - an experience. He will be in there with you instantly if you let him - otherwise you'll just hear him outside the door.

"Beautiful voice-" "Johnny!!!" "What?"

No such thing as privacy in this damn house. A fuckin' menace.

John Price

He'll hear the music playing in the kitchen, carefully making his way in to not disturb you at first. He loves watching you hum to yourself while cooking.

Reaches over to your phone and switches the music to something slow and classical, finally gaining your attention. "John-" "Just want to dance, love."

Arms around you to sway or slow dance in the kitchen.

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{Gave up on writing anything long right now. All requests will be finished but in short versions. Sorry <3}

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{ @sofasoap @soupbinsoup @sarraa-26 @gothgirl6-6-6 @caramlizedtomatoes-deactivated2 }

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{More Content}

[alwaysshallow]

can you please write a little blurb about soap comforting reader after a tough day?? (work’s been kicking my butt lately and i constantly think about johnny comforting me to feel better)

You are quiet as possible, when you're searching for any candies in your kitchen counters, trying with all your power to not break apart. It's been a rough couple of days, and what's more to it, you're just tired with life; if you wouldn't be needed anywhere, you'd honestly wrap yourself around a blanket to protect yourself from world.

But you can't do that, and it makes you even more mad, it makes you feel like you burned out in absolutely everything. What's even worse? You, trying to act like everything's okay right in front of your boyfriend for a couple of days.

Either he believes you, or he just decides that you're gonna tell him in the right time, but you're thankful for that anyway; you feel like he has more important things to do than worrying about you having a mental crisis and being exhausted. He's military after all, he probably would think it's a first world problem and—

"You're tensed up." Soap's voice snaps you back to reality, when he hugs you from behind, his face hidden in your neck.

You fake a chuckle, as you shake your head dissmisively. "I'm alright, it's just—"

"—quit it." he murmurs, kissing your skin which tickles under his lips. "Yer like this for a while. What's wrong, lassie?"

And here it goes.

It's like a breaking point, when he finally asks; one sob does it all for him to turn you around, and hug you tightly, as your head is against his broad chest, when you just tell him what is wrong. How everything overwhelms you, how you don't have time for anything you like, how people makes you want to crawl in your bed and never leave.

Comes on him like a tsunami wave, and you suddenly feel bad for making him worry about you. He seems to see right through you, when he pats your back a few times to get your attention.

"What are ya thinkin' bout?"

"How I'm overwhelming you. You have bigger problems, and I—"

"—None of that overthinkin' shite, aye? Look at me." he whispers, his forehead against yours. "You don't overwhelm me, at all. Yer just tellin' me what's been a bother, and that's good. That's why I'm here, yeah? No matter how dumb it sounds to you, I want to know."

"You want to know?"

"Everythin'. Includin' that Cassidy bitch."

He says it with such seriousness that it makes you laugh, and he laughs too, automatically.

"Ain't that hard, eh? And now, we're gonna go to bed, watch some movies, and cuddle."

And it is this way. You pick your favorite romcom, and his arm is around you; it feels like a shield from anything bad that happened to you recently.

His mouth doesn't stop commenting, but you think it's just an excuse, so you could shut up him with a kiss once in a while.

When you do? When you do, he laughs into your lips, and brings you even closer, nuzzling into you like into his favorite blanket.

And, somehow, he makes everything alright.

A/N: i hope everything's gonna be alright, baby!!

[ghostandsoap]

Stay

John "Soap" MacTavish x Fem! "Viper" Reader Tags: Assassination mission. Gunfire. Snipers. A/N: I feel like this sucks. Does it suck? Let me know if it sucks. Word Count: 6.0k "You can't leave."

John MacTavish was a deadly, silent marksman.

He struck fear into the heart of any enemy that dared to cross him...if they could even figure out that he was there to begin with. As Force 141's go-to sharpshooter and sniper, he had more than enough experience and advice to go around.

It wasn't lost on Sergeant MacTavish that he was one of the best -- but even then, his ego was never swollen. In fact, he felt like he was doing a disservice if he wasn't passing his wisdom along to someone just as talented and capable as him.

So when word on the street was that Captain Price had recruited a newly trained sniper to Force 141, Soap started preparing.

He wasn't surprised in the least when Captain Price approached him with a manila folder with a "classified" stamp on it. Soap wasn't shocked in the slightest when Price asked him to take the newbie under his wing.

He was more than happy to accept. He wasn't totally thrilled about the fact that most of his free time would be taken up by this, but it was a small price to pay to have the satisfaction of spreading his knowledge to someone deserving of his time and energy.

Price gave Soap a brief rundown, which didn't amount to much at all. Any information that Soap was going to have to know about this person was going to have to come from their files or from the person themselves. However, Price did give Soap a tiny sliver of information to get him intrigued.

"She's highly respected despite the fact she's young," Price had said with a chuckle. "They call her Viper."

Viper. The name rattled down his spine and left a tingle in his feet. He could only imagine where that name came from, and he was interested to know more.

And it seemed the more that Soap read up on her, the more that curiosity grew. As he read through her file, it became exceedingly clear to him as to why she was so well known and respected by her peers and mentors.

Viper showed a talent for sharpshooting in her early days of training. With proper mentoring and guidance, she ended up attending and finishing sniper school as one of the best.

When word spread that Captain John Price was looking for another sharpshooter for his infamous Task Force 141, Viper's information file was delivered to his desk almost immediately.

Price was betting on her just after seeing her file himself and after chatting with a few colleagues that had worked directly with her. His hopes for her only tripled when he actually met her in person to get a feel for how she would do with the rest of his team.

He knew that she would fly no matter what, but under Soap's supervision and guidance? She would soar.

Price introduced Soap and Viper to one another as soon as everything was settled...and truth be told, Soap almost scared her off on the first day.

Soap might have...overestimated how strong of a personality she was going to have prior to meeting her. With a name like "Viper", there was no question in his mind that she wasn't all sunshine and rainbows. And to an extent, he was correct. However, it seemed that his calculations had deemed her as nothing but a storm of venom and hatred, which was also not quite right.

Well of course Soap couldn't risk appearing smaller and weaker than the person who was supposed to be his student, so he amped up the side of him that was more "bad guy-ish."

He maintained the coldest stare that he could manage, and he didn't crack even a hint of a smile or any expression that showed him as anything but mean. He should've known that he was making a fool of himself when her eyes went wide and (quite frankly) concerned the moment he spoke to her in a tone that was less than pleasant.

Nonetheless, he kept this charade up for the duration of their first encounter, and by the end of their first day together, she was second guessing this entire arrangement. She debated running straight to Price and begging him to transfer her somewhere else and to someone who didn't act like they wanted to kill her in her sleep.

But thankfully Soap was intelligent enough to realize that his assumptions about her were horribly incorrect. When he saw just how rattled and exhausted she looked at the end of that day, he knew he needed to clear things up.

Once the misunderstanding was discussed and a "start over" was agreed upon, things went much smoother.

The two of them took off immediately. She soaked up every bit of advice he gave, and he practiced with her every free chance they had. For the most part, he helped her get familiarized with all kinds of different sniper rifles and practiced with her.

Any long ranged weapon that he had access to, he wanted her to be comfortable working with. He never wanted her to get into a situation where she needed to take someone out from a distance and was stuck with a weapon that she had no experience with.

As far as practice, they spent at least two hours at the shooting range every day. For the first few weeks, they stayed at the range. The range was a controlled environment with no outside factors...which also meant no distractions.

Eventually, Soap started taking her to locations outside of the range so that she could practice shooting from different elevations and altitudes. He wanted her to always be able to take wind speed and direction into account. He needed to know that she could still accurately locate a target at nighttime and in bad weather.

Long story short, Soap's end goal for her was easy. He wanted her to be able to take down an enemy in any environment, at any time, and with any long ranged weapon.

He had total faith in her, because it didn't take long for him to see for himself that, yes, she was very talented.

She was a fast learner, and when she was struggling with something, she persisted until she perfected it. She was determined and motivated in a way that he had never seen. He was impressed by her. He liked her.

The days turned into weeks and the weeks turned into days. Each new day, he was getting to know her as a soldier...and eventually, he was getting to know her as a person.

They were sharing things with one another that absolutely no one else on the planet knew or would ever know. He felt like she knew him better than anyone, and he had only known her a few months.

Their practice outings began ending with them sticking around in whatever place they were in, just chatting with one another and taking a load off from a long day.

One day in particular, about four months into this, he managed to get information out of her that he had wanted to know since the moment her callsign graced his ears.

The two of them were sitting together on top of a hill out in the middle of nowhere, dusk just beginning to creep over the sky as they sat together.

"So I've gotta ask ya," He had asked, slicing the blade of his knife into the red skin of the apple he had brought with him. "Where'd you get a name like Viper?"

Viper had laughed at his question, honestly surprised that he hadn't asked sooner.

"A few reasons actually. I'm fast, but also quiet...I can be pretty aggressive," She told him. "But mainly it comes from the fact that I can track and locate a target so easily and efficiently...especially through a scope."

"Oh, that's a good one." Soap said.

That was all he said after that. She waited patiently for a few seconds, expecting him to reciprocate the obvious.

"What about you?" She asked.

"What 'bout me?" He returned.

"Your callsign. Where does 'Soap' come from?" She clarified.

A shit-eating grin spread on the Scot's face as he popped a slice of apple into his mouth.

"That's classified Information." He remarked through chewing.

"What?!" She shrilled, unable to mask her smile. "I told you mine, so you have to tell me yours!"

"Not how it works."

"That's messed up. That is so not fair, Sergeant." She laughed an airy laugh, the kind that made his heart flutter and speak for himself before his brain had a chance to object.

"John," He blurted, his cheeks growing pink. "You don't have t'call me anything formal when it's just us."

The apple in his stomach was turning now, because that was the first moment that he realized that he was pining for her in a way that was beyond what he could control.

"Okay. I can call you John," She said to him, smiling in a way that almost made him collapse down the hill that they were perched on top of. "Now will you tell me why they call you Soap?"

He grinned and offered her the rest of his apple.

"No way."

After that, Soap found any excuse he could to see her and spend time with her. It got to a point where if someone needed to find Soap, they didn't even bother asking where he was. If they knew where Viper was, then they knew where Soap was.

They were glued to one another. She was excelling and improving every day, which only made him better and stronger as a result. The more time he spent with her, the harder he fell for her.

His likeness towards her was turning into something so much more wonderful. He was appreciating the world around him in ways he never had before.

John MacTavish was in love.

__

"Keep your breathing steady..." Soap instructed, his voice almost at a whisper. "Hold your breath right before you fire."

Viper was in the zone. She was perched with Soap's chosen sniper rifle of the day, staring at her assigned "target" through the scope. They were back at the range today, which should've made her feel more comfortable. However, Viper felt a bit of pressure today that she usually didn't feel when practicing because today Captain Price was observing.

Nonetheless, she did everything as she normally would. She waited until she was ready, she held, and she pulled the trigger. There wasn't any loud sound of a gunshot considering the weapon she was using was a suppressed rifle, but there was no noise greater than Soap when he was excited.

"Perfect shot," He buzzed. "Couldn't have done it better myself."

Her target wasn't a real enemy, of course. It was just a dummy that they used for shooting practice. Still, Soap was beaming and she was proud.

"What do I always tell ya, Vi?" He asked, leaning his head closer waiting for his signature quote.

"Be unseen and unheard until it's too late." She said, accepting Soap's hand to guide her up from the ground.

He grinned at her, waving Captain Price over to join the conversation. Price was wearing a proud, satisfied smirk as he approached them.

Price had been watching them closely over the many, many months that Soap had been working with her. He was pleased with Soap's mentorship, and even more pleased that she was blossoming into likely the best sniper he would ever see in his lifetime.

Not to mention, it wasn't lost on Price that Soap had grown to care for her.

Soap was interested in her in a way that extended past a teacher-student arrangement. Soap didn't have to take so much time with her. Truthfully, Soap's dedication to her was far beyond what Price could've ever hoped for.

"Nice work, Viper. Everything still going alright?" He asked.

Every once in a while, Price would ask that question. And every time, he got the same answer.

"Yes sir. All is well." She smiled.

"Good. You're quite the crackshot," He said, shifting the conversation topic. "I need to steal Soap from you for a moment. You mind catching up later?"

Soap and Viper shared a brief look before she answered.

"Sure, Captain."

Viper respectfully left the captain and the sergeant to chat and talk shop, and Soap already knew what Price wanted to talk to him about.

"You move out for Russia next week," Price said, and Soap nodded. "We need to talk about Viper."

Soap had known about this trip to Russia for two weeks. There was a job that needed to be handled there, and Force 141 would be heading there shortly. The mission was critically important.

Of course Viper had been with them on missions before. She was a part of the task force after all, so she was one with the team. However, Viper hadn't been put to the test yet. And this mission, if Price decided yes, would most definitely test her.

It was an assassination mission.

It was a mission that was going to be reliant on one person to be successful. And Captain Price was trying to decide if that person was going to be Viper or Soap.

Soap knew that Price was considering letting Viper take the lead on this one. Soap hadn't told Viper about the mission yet. He didn't want her to have that pressure simmering for so long. He didn't want Viper getting into her own head.

Soap would've been the obvious choice for this job, but Price was beginning to feel as if Viper was ready for this.

Soap knew her better than Price did at this point, whatever Soap said would determine Price's decision.

"You've been working with her for over six months," Price said.

Seven months and 12 days, actually. Soap thought to himself.

"You're the best judge of her ability and readiness to do this mission," Price went on. "She needs to be able to handle the pressure."

Soap understood exactly what Price was saying. Essentially, the captain was asking if Viper was ready for this.

Soap had complete confidence in her. She was already incredibly sharp when she first joined 141, and now she was an even better version of herself. There wasn't a doubt in Soap's mind that Viper was as prepared as she could possibly be.

"What's the verdict, Sergeant?" Price asked, arms crossed over his chest. "Is she ready?"

Without hesitation or lack of confidence, Soap answered.

"Absolutely she is."

___

This part of Russia is what she could only describe as the absolute middle of nowhere.

The land was extreme, and the tundra seemed to stretch out into hundreds of miles in every single possible direction. The land was painted white with the occasional silhouette of a tree or some other natural landmark.

Yet for some reason, in the middle of this vast land of nothingness, there was a small cabin about a mile away, only visible to Viper through the crosshairs of her scope.

Viper didn't mind the snow and frost in the least, but what she didn't care for was the extreme cold temperatures that came with them. And since it was nighttime, the frigid air was much worse. The air was so crisp and clean that her lungs were stinging with every inhale of air she took.

The sky was ablaze with millions and millions of twinkling stars, and if she had the time or focus to actually look up and study them...she might've even been able to see other galaxies.

But Viper wasn't out in the wilderness of Russia to stargaze and make wishes on those stars. Viper was here on business.

So here she was, hunkered down in the snow and camouflaged with the earth beneath her. Her rifle was an extension of herself tonight, as familiar to herself as her own heartbeat.

Even though she wasn't fond of the cold, it wasn't bothering her tonight. The numbness in her fingers and toes was ignored for the time being.

Soap and Ghost were elsewhere, but relatively close by. Their tasks were different for this mission, mainly to retrieve the body and to eliminate any unwanted visitors.

"Viper, this is Ghost. How copy?" The lieutenant's voice sounded in her ear.

"I hear you, Lieutenant. How's the weather down there?" She asked, keeping her voice low.

"Cold n' bitter." Soap chimed in, and she could hear Ghost's chuckle.

"At least you aren't buried in the snow." Viper remarked

The three of them had been bantering back and forth like this for a while. Something that most people don't know about being a sniper is that you have to have some serious patience. They had been playing the waiting game, and they had to do something to pass the time and the silence.

"Johnny'll warm you up when this is over." Ghost teased.

Soap had smacked Ghost's arm for that one, not believing that his friend was trying to embarrass her.

Viper's cheeks ran warm at that comment, which would've been nice in this weather if it hadn't been under flustered circumstances. She didn't respond, and thankfully she didn't have to, because there was sudden movement through her scope.

With perfect timing, she heard Soap again.

"Do you have a visual on the target?" Soap's voice echoed in Viper's ear.

Viper didn't move a single inch.

"Affirmative." She replied.

A very simple pause followed, and then an even simpler command was given.

"Take him out."

She steadied her breathing. She placed her index finger on the trigger. She held her breath, and she fired.

Her vision tunneled for a moment after she pulled the trigger, something that sometimes happened after she made a shot. When she looked through the scope again, her target wasn't down like he should've been.

He was on the move, alarmed and fleeing the area. Where he was going to go in this kind of environment, she wasn't sure. However, with enemies like this, they always had an escape plan.

"Shit." Soap cursed.

She missed.

She couldn't have missed him by more than a couple of inches. Her bullet was just a hair too far above, which only alerted her target and completely missed him altogether.

Nobody had expected Viper to miss. Especially not Soap. He knew that she didn't have long to reload and correct her second shot before her target disappeared.

"Viper, track him and fire again," He instructed, trying not to sound too urgent and make her nervous. "You've only got a couple of seconds."

She was trying not to panic, despite the fact that she was all shaken up from the fact that she missed. She had practiced a shot like this for what felt like a million times. How could she miss now when it was the real thing?

Viper reloaded, marked her target, aimed the crosshairs, and fired again.

There was a squeeze of the trigger, a puff of smoke, and her target a mile away that crumpled to the ground in an instant.

Viper coughed out a relieved, but stunned noise. One that came from a place of knowing that her target almost got away.

"Target is down," Soap said, yet Viper still felt sick. "Beautiful shot, Vi."

Soap and Ghost moved in swiftly, getting the now dead target out before his comrades showed up. Viper pulled away from the scope, her eyes finding two little, distant figures running around that she knew to be them.

She rested her forehead against the back of her hand, her mind spinning and reeling at a million miles an hour.

She knew that Price would hear about this -- the fact that she missed the first time. He had put so much faith into her and bragged about her to everybody. How would he react to this?

Even worse than that, how was Soap going to react?

Soap had put his blood, sweat, and tears into shaping her. He spent more time and energy on her than anyone else ever had in the last seven months. He taught her everything he knew. Every tip, trick, and piece of advice he had -- she knew it by heart.

How could she repay him like this?

"Meet us down here at the cabin," Ghost's voice returned to her ear. "Need to be heading out."

She predicted that Ghost wouldn't say much to her for the rest of the night. Not because he was angry or disappointed, but because he felt like not addressing it at all was the best way to protect her feelings and her pride.

Viper knew she needed to meet up with them quickly, and they needed to get back to their base for the night. Her entire body shook as she packed up her gear, the trembling was both from the cold and the severe anxiety that she was feeling at that moment.

She felt like a complete and utter waste of Soap's time. She felt like all his attention and effort that was used on her was for nothing. She almost blew it.

Viper used everything she had to keep it together as she worked her way down the hill. The last thing she needed was to fall apart in front of them, because then she would be a failure and weak.

At this point, she was just wondering if she still had what it took.

___

She had been staring at the fire for over an hour.

The chill in her bones had faded long ago, but she couldn't bring herself to stand from where she sat -- huddled up in front of the fire, contemplating everything that she had been doing in the last several months.

She could feel the heat radiating off of it, the same heat that might've saved her from hypothermia if she had stayed out in the cold Russian wilderness for too long.

The flames burned bright orange and dark red, dancing and casting long shadows against the far wall behind her. The flames were reflected in her glassy eyes, a painted picture of disappointment and questioning of her own abilities.

She hadn't said a word to Soap or Ghost since meeting back up at the cabin. She was too embarrassed to even spare either of them a passing glance. She felt like she had failed worse than she ever had.

Soap and Ghost gave her space for a bit. They ordered her to sit in front of the fire to get warmed up after being covered in snow and ice for so long. And that was how she found herself stuck in a daze, staring into those burning flames like they were her only source of life.

Their "base" was hardly anything at all. It was a one floor structure that you might could call a house.

This house was nestled in the vast expanse of birch trees that were dusted with snow and decorated with solid icicles. It was a small three room house with a kitchen, living room, and bedroom.

It was a relic, really. Long forgotten and abandoned by someone who was long gone by now. The wooden walls were weathered by the harsh winters and summers of Russia, but the structure was firm and resilient.

As she stared into that fire, Viper wondered what sort of stories and memories this house contained. She wondered what kind of history and life this place had. At least now the house was serving a purpose.

Unlike herself. Or, at least, that was how she felt.

Viper isolated herself in the living room, sitting on the hand-woven rug and ignoring the way the creaky floors made her bottom half ache. Ghost and Soap were cornered in the kitchen, which was only separated from the living room with a singular adjacent wall.

They were crammed together at the small table in there, basically just waiting for enough time to pass before they felt it was right to talk to her.

For Soap to talk to her.

Soap wasn't planning on yelling at her. Soap wasn't sure if he could ever bring himself to yell at her for anything at all.

He thought that maybe she wasn't ready for the kind of pressure this mission put on her. Maybe he was so in love with her that everything she did seemed to be extraordinary...which in turn blinded him to the fact that she needed more time.

But Soap (as much he did love her) felt confident that if this was truly, 100% her fault -- then he would know. Besides, she technically didn't fail this mission. The assassination was successful after all...but he knew that she was hung up on the plain fact that it almost wasn't.

Soap stood from the wooden table, sighing to himself as he mentally prepped for this conversation.

"Go easy on her, Johnny." Ghost said. "She's still learning."

Soap wasn't angry at her in the slightest. If anything, he felt like she should've been angry at him.

"What do I say to her?" Soap asked his lieutenant.

"Encourage her. Reassure her that it's not the end of the world," Ghost said. "And just be you when you say it."

Soap nodded. He understood what Ghost was saying. After all, it wasn't lost on anybody how Soap felt about her.

Soap left Ghost behind, entering the living room that was bursting with warmth. His heart stung at the sight of her so down and discouraged. He needed to fix this.

Soap was silent as he approached her, his footsteps heavy against the creaking floorboards. He lowered himself to the floor, sitting next to her without a word.

She knew he was there. And now that he was there, she had a million thoughts sprinting through the track of her mind. She was scared to speak first, because she didn't know how he was feeling.

"Talk to me, Vi. I'd feel a lot better if you did." He meant to say it as a command, but it came out as more of a request.

She couldn't look at him. She only continued to look at the fireplace in front of her.

"I missed," She said, which was obvious of course, but it was different actually hearing her say it out loud. "Almost twice."

Her voice was meek and insecure. It just wasn't like her.

"Yeah, you did." Soap remarked, his tone neutral and not showing any hard emotion.

"How did I miss?" She stared down at her hands that felt like they were weighing the rest of her down. "I was so prepared..."

"You were prepared -- as prepared as you could'a been." He agreed.

In a weird way, she wanted him to be angry. She wanted him to scream in her face and shake her around until she was begging for another chance and to keep her job. She wanted to suffer for making it look like he had failed to teach her.

But he wasn't going to do any of that. Not to her.

"Then how did I miss?" She was almost scared to ask.

"Unexpected wind. You felt rushed or distracted," He listed a few possibilities. "You got nervous under pressure...I put too much pressure on you."

Viper didn't believe that, even if it was partly true.

"Real soldiers don't get nervous." She remarked, her words sharp.

"Bullshit," He scoffed. "That doesn't make you a soldier. It makes you human."

Viper didn't say anything after that. She felt as if her natural reaction (as a result of being human) to a high-stress situation is what caused her to be unsuccessful in her mission. She hadn't let just herself and Soap down, she had let her entire team down.

Soap was still struggling with how to talk to her. He knew what Ghost had said, but which approach would she react best to -- her sergeant or the guy who had grown sweet on her?

"C'mon, Vi. You took him down," Soap said. "Stop beatin' yourself up."

She shook her head at her sergeant. His sudden casualness almost made her frustrated. She didn't say anything for a few more moments, before she did say something that made Soap immediately begin to panic.

"I'm putting in my resignation when we get back."

Soap processed what she said about as fast as she said it. His heart collapsed to his feet and fired back up into his throat. She couldn't quit. He wouldn't allow it.

He wouldn't lose her like this.

"What?" He blurted, realizing that his goal now was to prevent her from doing something stupid. "You can't leave."

"I missed, John. You can't just miss shots like that."

"Everybody misses," He stated. "And you still took him down the second time. Why can't you understand that?"

A quick beat passed. The crackling of the fire sounded loudly.

"You don't." She mumbled.

"What're you talkin' about? 'Course I've missed," He remarked. "And I've missed enough t'know that everybody misses."

"Okay," She said, her words sharp and defensive. "So what am I supposed to do now?"

He ignored her harsh tone. He kept talking to her as he had been.

"Come back home with me. Keep practicing. Make a perfect technique even more perfect," Soap said. "I promise you, doll -- keep at it n' you won't even think anything of what happened tonight."

She found that hard to believe. How could she ever get over the fact that she almost lost her very first high-pressure mission? The first of many?

Soap was out of things to say. Nothing that he was saying to her seemed to be making a dent. She was stubborn for sure, and now it wasn't working in his favor.

He had to be transparent with her. It was the only way he could talk her out of leaving the team.

Out of leaving him.

"You can't leave, Vi. You just can't," His voice was steady, despite the turmoil inside of him. "I know this life isn't easy, and screwin' up in this profession sucks worse than anything else, but...

Soap felt his heartbeat begin to quicken when she rested her head against his shoulder. It pounded in his chest in a way that made breathing feel difficult, and in a way that made him have to calm himself down. His eyelashes fluttered as he closed his eyes, hues of orange and red still visible from behind his eyelids.

Such a simple, seemingly meaningless touch made his legs feel wobbly and had his stomach doing somersaults. He was so infatuated with Viper.

Her talent, her skills, her determination. Her eyes, her smile, and just...her. Soap could say without a shadow of a doubt that no one had meant this much to him in a long time...no one had meant this much to him ever.

Soap's gaze was fixed on her. Her eyes were filled with uncertainty, which was a stark contrast to the woman that he knew Viper to be. Seeing her so discouraged and so unsure of herself broke his heart.

"I want you to stay...I need you to stay." His plea hung in the air between them, a testament to the depth of his feelings for her.

She finally looked at him then. The flames of orange and red reflected in her eyes as she tuned into what he was telling her. If her day hadn't already been complicated and taxing on her emotions enough, he would've kissed her.

She wouldn't have minded that in the slightest. At first, Viper thought she was in trouble when she first noticed how she felt about Soap. She felt doomed at first because how could she ever be able to pursue him? He was supposed to be her mentor, despite the fact that he was only a few years older than her.

She was worried at first because she feared that she had fallen for someone who she could never have. How was she supposed to live like that?

But as time went on, she noticed that her affection wasn't one-sided. She caught Soap gazing at her from afar more than once. She didn't miss the way he had a feather-like touch whenever he adjusted the position of her hands on her weapon. She knew that all of Ghost's passing comments and jokes didn't come from nowhere.

And on more than one occasion, she had heard about how much he talked about her.

She knew how she felt about him, and she also knew how he felt about her. After tonight, she was pretty sure that he would have that all figured out as well.

He settled for touching her hand instead, his rough fingers brushing against her delicate hand -- skin that didn't have the hard work experience and hardships that he did. He held her hand in his, a showing of something that extended far past him seeing her as just the soldier he was supposed to train.

He was showing her that he loved her for the woman she was.

Soap knew that he sounded desperate. Mainly because he was desperate. Viper had become such a massive part of his everyday life in the last seven months. Trying to imagine not spending every day with her pained his heart.

After all, she had become the most important person to his heart.

"Okay," She said, her voice serene and smooth. "I'll stay."

Relief rushed his system because he felt like he had another chance. It would take time to rebuild her confidence and teach her to be patient with herself again. But it was a task he was more than willing to take on.

"On one condition." She added.

She cracked a small smile then, which was enough to ignite the fireworks that were ready to explode in his chest. He would do literally anything to keep her around.

"You name it." Soap grinned.

"We have to start practicing and training an extra hour every day." She said, and Soap almost laughed.

That was more than okay with him.

"Deal," He said. "If you're lucky, I might even tell ya why they call me Soap."

Her eyes lit up then, and he almost felt bad for teasing her like that.

Almost.

"Really?" She asked, shifting closer to him to where she was almost snuggled into his side.

She rested her head on his shoulder again, and this time he wrapped an arm around her to pull her closer.

"No." He smirked.

They shared a small laugh before falling into a comfortable silence, the kind that eased any kind of tension or anxiety. He was soaking in her presence, thankful that it wouldn't be last time he would ever get to enjoy it.

As soon as they were back and settled, he was asking her on a proper, real date. As much as he loved it, he figured that somewhere outside of the range was in order.

The two of them sat like that for a long time, basically until the last of the fire had burned out, and all that was left was ashes and smoke. When Soap shifted to stand, he realized that Viper didn't move.

When he craned his neck to look at her, she saw her eyes were closed and her breathing was slow and steady. She had fallen asleep on him.

He nearly exploded through the ceiling.

He had to contain himself and not wake her because he wanted her to get as much rest as she could. He was careful as he moved to scoop her up, hushing her when she stirred and made mid-slumber noises of discontent from being disturbed.

He carried her and whisked her from the living room, cutting through the kitchen to get to the bedroom to put her in bed. Ghost, who had been on watch this entire time, saw this encounter and couldn't help but smirk.

"I assume all went well?" Ghost asked, and he felt proud at the beaming smile on Soap's face.

"Yeah. You could say that."

[sofasoap]

Little first meet

Pairing: Johnny “Soap” MacTavish x F!Reader

Summary: How a mohawk Scottish man meet his bonnie bear

Warning : M rating. use of alcohol. flirting. A/N: Three glasses of wine in, half asleep I just want to spew their awkward first meeting out.

Part 7 of Little Bear series Masterlist

“Hello bonnie, are you new here?”

Glancing to the left, and to the right.  There’s no one else sitting beside you. Is he talking to you?? There must be some mistake. Surely this handsome stranger with a very exaggerated mohawk hair right in front of you isn’t trying to start a conversation with you. Or God forbid, trying to flirt with you????

“... You talking to me?” you asked in a weak voice. 

He chuckled as he flashes you a wide toothy smile, “Who else would it be? The most beautiful person in the whole pub.” gesturing to the stool beside you, “Mind if I take a seat?”

“Um, sure?”  You can feel the tip of your ears starting to burn. Fidgeting with the pint of beer in your hand, your mind started racing. Maybe he is just bored, or maybe he had a bet with his friend on how many people they can chat up with tonight in this pub.

This is the first time you left your hometown. First time in a brand new environment and you are a nervous wreck. 

You only moved to Credenhill a few weeks ago after getting a new job with a civilian company that has connections to the military that is stationed in the area. 

You have thought deep and hard before deciding to make that huge leap in your life, after seeing all your friends moving on with their life, achieving so much. And there you are, still living in your comfort zone. 

Tonight, you decided to check out the local pub that your new workmate had suggested with a good atmosphere and food. You had nothing better to do anyway on a Friday night.

“Maybe you will get lucky and some soldiers will hit on you!” They joke. “I had quite a bit of luck meeting some quite sexy soldiers. And I can assure you they have pretty good … stamina.” Winking and giggling away as you lower your head in embarrassment. 

Awkward silent bubble surrounded both of you as the bolstering noise of drunken pub goers around you continued.  You never had anyone hitting you before (He is flirting with you, right?)  What do you do in this situation? Who should start a conversation? Is it proper etiquette to look into their eyes or should you look away?

As your brain runs through all the possibilities and solutions, the mohawk man broke the silence and restart the conversation.

“So, I haven’t seen you around here before. Are you here for a visit or?? I don’t imagine anyone will be here for sightseeing purposes.” Taking a sip from his own beer, he asked. “And it doesn’t look like you are waiting for anyone to join you either.” 

Good observant skill, you noted. “Um.I just moved here. Few weeks ago.” Shyly taking a peek at him as you bring your glass up for a sip for a drink, you realise you have a set of steel blue eyes. Beautiful steel blue eyes, drawing you deeper into his soul. 

Great, now you are gawking on him. 

His eyes brighten up as soon as you mention you are a new resident here.

“Well I hope you are settling in well. I must apologise that this little village has nothing to offer apart from basic amenities and boring soldiers.” he chuckles. 

“ And you are one of them?” you blurted out as your eyes caught a glimpse of his dog chain in his half buttoned up shirt. You slapped your mouth as soon as the sentence left your mouth. 

“Sorry. Not meaning to be so rude..” Embarrassment and anxiety starts bubbling up. That is one thing you are not good with. Socialisation. It’s either you don’t know how to carry on a conversation or letting your mouth run without thinking. Way to make a good impression with people. You thought.

Mohawk stranger laughed. “ I am indeed one of them. One of the best at boring your brains out. .” he smirked, “Although I am not as boring as my team mate Ghost.” 

“Ghost?” “Not his real name. That’s his call sign. He usually bored us to death with his dad jokes. Or our Captain. Nagging non-top most times like a mother hen. Don’t get me started on Gaz. He is too stiff for his own good sometimes.” 

“They sound like very interesting people.” You let out a little laugh. 

“Depending how you look at it.” He smiled. Pausing slightly as he thought for a second, “If you like, I can introduce them to you. Next time.” He looked at you in earnest. 

“Next time?” Your eyebrows arched up. There’s next time?

“Only if you want, bonnie.” smiling softly, “You look like you need some friends.” Noticing you stiffening, he winced as he straightened his back slightly. “Sorry. I meant no offence with that. I just thought you might want to make new friends in this new place.” 

You fidget in your seat even more. Can you really trust this man that you only just met tonight? 

And what is that good old warning people kept saying to you, never get involved with military personnel. They will surely break your heart. 

Still noticing your hesitation and discomfort, he hastily added, “If it makes you feel more comfortable, my sister is visiting soon. I can bring her along too. She is the one who usually keeps us all in check. Also to keep my blabbering mouth shut as well.” 

“But.......” 

“But?”

“... I don’t even know your name.”

Mohawk man opened his mouth for a second and closed before he slapped himself in the forehead. 

“Where are my manners? Let’s start again.” holding his hands out,

“John MacTavish. But people either call me Johnny or Soap.”

You later find out Johnny isn’t usually the type to introduce his close knit group right from get go. 

“I fell hard for you that day, Bonnie bear. Something in my heart tells me I must approach that lonely bonnie that is sitting in the corner all by herself and woo her with all my might.”

“Well luckily you didn’t use any of your lame pick up lines..”

“Aww Bonnie bear. I am sure you will still fall for the charming me nevertheless.”

“Sure sure… “

Taglist: @a-small-writer-in-a-big-world

@kaplerrr

@homicidal-slvt

@floral-force @okayyadriana @deadbranch @cumikering @siilvan

@random-thot-generator

@random0lover @devcica @jynxmirage @nrdmssgs @glitterypirateduck @roosterr @brewed-pangolin @groguspicklejar

[sluttylittlewaistenthusiast]

╰┈➤ 18+ none of these stories belong to me! this is a masterlist of all the fanfics i’ve read and reblogged! just thought it would be nice to have them all in one spot! (if your fic is on here and you wish not to be, please let me know!) some will have summaries if provided <3

ᡣ𐭩 how you can help palestine . fic recs m.list

@/halcyone-of-the-sea

⭒ He'll Follow Me Down Every Street, No Matter My Crime

You had an affinity for shiny objects. This time, a sting of pearls locked away in a mansion calls your name through the crowd of a party - only trouble? You have a hunch the man you help at the front door isn't all who he says he is.

⭒ His Wistful Yearning

Feelings are hard to hide, especially when the one person you want to be with happens to be your best friend. But are the larger feelings as unrequited as you think?

⭒ Green-eyed Monster

You'd slept together, sure. No strings attached. Then why are you trying to make him jealous? Who cares, the point is that it's working.

⭒ Still the Same Fools

There was always a rivalry between you two - that hasn't changed even if both of you have. Years later, the boiling point is finally met.

⭒ How to Adapt to Fire

FireFighter!Johnny x reader

⭒ Right Person

There are few things more heartbreaking than realizing the bitter truth. He was going to be absolutely extraordinary.

⭒ Run Away to Me

Blacksmith!Johnny x reader

@obsessedduh

⭒ Johnny being the messiest pussy eater

@bits-and-babs

⭒ Check on Your Six

Returning from a shower after a gruelling midnight run, you catch Johnny red handed...

@undercoverpena

⭒ It Happens

you shouldn't sleep with your teammate, least of all the one who can't hold your gaze. but you do, again and again. getting pulled in by those ridiculous azure-coloured eyes that dig—the ones which try to swallow you whole. and succeeding. dragging you under, making it hard to breathe with how intense they are. ones which you don't hate, not nearly as much as you should.

@tacticaldiary

⭒ Still A Beating Heart

"Like hell I was leaving you." Clicking her tongue, she shifts her focus on his wound that's bleeding through the hasty patchwork. "Not letting you bleed out now."

@rowarn

⭒ Enamored

with a too-big-cock, he hasn't managed to lose his virginity yet. until he shares a sweet little moment with you, the love of his life

[fxckingghxst]

Aftercare Headcanons

Pairing: Task Force 141 & König x GN!Reader

CW: Suggestive content (not full smut but mentions of sex), reader is sore, no specific pronouns used, no specific mentions of genitalia, swearing in a few hc, mainly just fluff and comfort, aftercare.

A/N: this started as something else but turned into this and I really like it! Let me know what you think!

Ghost was concerned as he heard a small ’ow’ leave your lips when he pulled you closer to him. Immediately he’s asking you what’s wrong, his arms tense around your waist as he thinks maybe he’s the reason for your pain. And he is- but not quite how he expected. “I don’t think I can use my legs anymore, Simon, I think you fucked me till my legs broke.” You groan as you flip onto your other side so you can face him and watch his face turn red. He’d roll his eyes as he tried to hide his face in the pillow, wanting to avoid your teasing gaze. “You’re stupid.” is all he says as you reach your hands out to cup his face, laughing at how shy he was being. He’d be a bit mad at himself for hurting you- for not being able to control himself more, but you squash any of his doubts when you kiss his nose and tell him that you love him. He loves you too, which is why he pulled you back into bed when you tried to get up and told you not to move as he went to make you some tea and grab a heated pad for you.

Soap instantly feels bad as you tell him you’re too sore to move from the bed. He’ll kiss your cheek and tell you he’s sorry; promising he'll go easier on you next time. Depending on how you feel, you’d either agree and thank him or tell him that you don’t mind his roughness. Either way, he’d still remember to hold himself back a bit the next time you have sex. He’d make sure you wouldn’t move from the bed all day. He’d bring you breakfast in bed, even going as far as trying to feed you, “My arms work just fine, Johnny.” “I know, bonnie, just let me take care of you.” He’d flash you his puppy dog eyes and you’d melt, letting him do whatever he wanted. He’d stay in bed with you for the rest of the day, scolding you when you tried to get out of bed, and holding you close to him. 

Gaz feels bad- he really does- but he smiles cheekily as you tell him you can’t move. He’d start to tease you a bit, saying “You were begging for me to go harder, love. I can’t say no to you.” You groan and throw your pillow at him, but he catches it easily, “fuck you, Kyle,” but you’re smiling as you wrap the blankets over your head. He laughs and slides back into bed beside you, snaking his arms around your waist and pulling you into his chest. Finally, he apologizes and follows it up with soft kisses on your shoulder that have you forgiving him quickly. He’ll help you to stretch out your muscles, any excuse to touch you really, and offer to make breakfast for the both of you. “Wow, so if I let you fuck me every night, you’ll make me breakfast?” Gaz laughs. “You better slow down there, baby. You might regret it.”

Price realizes something was wrong with you when you first tried to move out of bed. A groan falls from your lips as you try to sit up on your shared bed, Price immediately furrowing his brows and sits up on his elbow. “Everything alright, love?” You lay back down on the bed and hold your stomach as you laugh a bit. “My whole body is sore.” It takes him a second to put the pieces together, but as soon as he does he’s moving closer toward you and wrapping his arm around you. He apologizes and kisses your cheek, once, twice, then three times; each followed by a mumble of ‘sorry’. He’d lay his head on the pillow next to you and look at your face as he offers to run a hot bath for you. Maybe he’d join you in there as well. You give him a pointed look, asking him if he wanted to hurt you more, and he’d only smile as he laid a kiss on your shoulder. “You’re evil, John.”

König’s face turned pale as you mentioned over breakfast how sore you were down below. He began to apologize profusely; telling you he didn’t mean to hurt you so much and everything under the sun. You have to stop him by holding his head in your hands and forcing him to look at you, telling him to calm down. He does so, after a few seconds, and you give him a smile and tell him it’s not his fault. Explaining to him that he is just bigger than average was the reason why you were so sore. “Bigger than average?” “Yeah, König, you're hung like a horse.” He’s embarrassed, but also prideful at hearing your words. Nevertheless, he feels bad and is asking you if you need anything when you so much as move a muscle on the couch or if he can do anything to make you feel better when he notices your discomfort. He’ll be extra touch and clingy with you, holding you close to his chest or bringing your legs onto his lap to give you a massage. 

masterlist

[gloomwitchwrites]

Break Up with Your Toxic Boyfriend (2 of 4)

John "Soap" MacTavish x Female Reader

Content & Warnings: brief discussion of verbal and emotional injury, briefly implied future physical injury, protective / possessive Soap, hand job, unprotected piv (wrap it up irl)

Word Count: 1.9k

A/N: Part of the Imagines & What If Series

You and Soap might no longer be together, but he is your "safe space", and you need to vent. While raging over the phone about your boyfriend, Soap arrives at your door.

ao3 // taglist // main masterlist // break up with your toxic boyfriend masterlist

The anger and hurt in your voice are the only fuel John needs.

You have no idea that he is already on his way to you, that he hooked your phone call up to his helmet. That, even now, John is on his sportbike zooming down roads and weaving around cars in an effort to get to you.

There is a fire under his skin. It burns away all other concerns. Every word you speak is a blown furnace, the destruction mounting until each utterance infuriates him further. This “boyfriend” of yours, the one you started seeing after the two of you broke up, deserves a fucking sharp punch to the jaw. He deserves missing teeth and broken bones.

Men like him aren’t men at all. They’re rubbish, only valuing women as objects, seeing them as their housekeeper and not their partner.

In his ear, you’re hardly taking a breath. Your words are a stream of consciousness, each word angrily pushing into the other until it’s a jumbled mess. John listens to it all, using that as motivation to get to you. It’s doesn’t fucking matter that you’re not his anymore.

John still cares. He still loves you. The need to protect and defend you is innate. One teary-laced word was enough for him to drop everything and head in your direction. Doesn’t matter that you and he ended things a bit messy. It was simply complicated. The two of you needed to work a few things out but broke it off because that was the easy thing to do.

He regrets that. He regrets not fighting. Not getting his shit together.

The engine revs, and John turns onto your street, almost throwing himself off his bike to get to your front door. In one hand he’s holding his helmet. In the other, he’s holding his phone, the device pressed to his ear as you keep talking. Reaching out, he pounds on the door.

You immediately pause on the other side of the phone. “There’s someone at my door,” you murmur, voice slightly distant.

“I know,” he replies. “It’s me.”

Silence on the other end. But then he hears it—the familiar click of a lock. Following that is your front door opening, revealing you.

The two of you stand there, staring at each other. Your momentary shock slips, dipping into confusion.

“What are you—” you begin but promptly stop as John pushes past you and into the flat.

“Is that fucker here?” John strides into the kitchen, placing his helmet down on the counter before ending the phone call and slipping the device into his back pocket.

“John.”

He glances down the hallway and then turns to you. “Is he here?”

You shake your head. “No. He’s not here.”

John’s chest heaves with relief, some of the tension receding.

“John,” you repeat, the concern in your voice enough to smother some of that fire burning beneath his ribcage.

“Did he hurt you?” he asks softly, approaching.

His gaze roams up and down your body, searching for signs of injury. There is none, at least not that he can see. That doesn’t mean there aren’t marks somewhere hiding beneath the clothes. The very thought fans the flames, charging John’s nerves until they crackle like lightening.

“No, Johnny. I’m fine.”

Johnny.

Only two people are allowed to call him that and one of them is standing right in front of him. The use of it, the way it falls from your lips, is enough to slightly quiet the anger. He sighs, expelling some of that smoky frustration. But then his gaze flicks to a spot just over your shoulder, and a new feeling emerges.

There are fist-sized holes in the wall. Four of them. Much too large to be your hands.

“What the fuck are those?” John’s voice drops as he nods toward them.

The sadness that forms on your features nearly rips his lungs from his body. John has never seen you like this. Never this defeated.

“They happened after,” you answer.

“After what?”

“The argument.”

You and John have had your fair share of arguments, but he’s never punched a wall. He’s never thrown anything or threatened you.

Never. Fucking never.

No. Fuck this guy.

“You’re breaking up with him.”

“What?” you ask, flustered by his sudden outburst.

“He doesn’t deserve you,” he murmurs. “Doesn’t deserve to breathe the same air as you. To kiss your lips. To be in your presence.”

You deserve so much more than whatever this fucker is providing. Which is apparently nothing served alongside fist-sized gapping wounds in the plaster.

Your mouth opens like you’re about to reject the idea, but it’s not a suggestion. You are breaking up with him. You will leave him even if that means John doesn’t get to have you. That’s fine. That’s okay. He can live with that. What he can’t live with is knowing you’re with someone who treats you like rubbish.

He needs to get this off his chest, to make you understand that you are entitled to more.

“I listened the whole way here and you know what I heard?” He pauses and notices the slight quiver in your bottom lip. “That you’re unhappy. Have been for some time.”

You blink and fresh tears form there. John has to bite back the instinct to kiss them away. It’s what he would do if you were still his.

He licks his lips, a large sigh leaving him as he points over your shoulder. “He treats you poorly.” John’s hand slices through the air. “Walks all over you. Doesn’t answer you for hours and then gets angry with you when he finally makes contact.”

As John talks, even he can hear his voice thickening. This always happens when he gets worked up, and you’ve always playfully teased him about it.

“He’s a fucking waste of space.”

“John—”

“Break it off. And—fuck. If you can’t face him, then let me do it.” He places his hand on his chest. “Allow me to defend you.”

Your features soften and John wants to drink it in, to remember the way you’re currently looking at him. He remembers this side of you, the one that easily pierces him like a needle breaks skin. A look like this will put John on his knees if you ask him to.

“Johnny.”

He’s done. Gone. There is no coming back from this. Whenever you say his name like that, you’re either annoyed with him, wanting him to listen, or you’re just about ready to kiss him. It momentarily rips away all the thoughts in his head, leaving him temporarily mute before his brain can catch up again.

“Listen to me,” he says, gripping the sides of your face. “Get rid of him. I—I know you don’t want me but fucking hell. Don’t pick him. Don’t—”

John is silenced.

Not by your words leaving your mouth but from your lips pressing to his. It startles him—shocks him that you’re kissing him. Leaning into him. John responds, kisses you back, his tongue exploding with the remembrance of your taste.

But you’re still not his. You belong to someone else still and this isn’t right, no matter how much he fucking hates it.

“Stop, love,” he murmurs, pushing on your shoulders.

John loathes telling you to stop. To move away from him. Doing so is like fish hooks caught in the skin. He wants to reel you right back in, to taste your lips again, and fall into memory.

“I ended it,” you reply softly. “It’s over. That’s why there are holes in the wall.”

John pauses, his gaze growing serious. “What?”

You shake your head. “He didn’t like that I wanted him to leave. That I didn’t want to see him anymore.”

Your fingers dig into the back of John’s neck and that one touch is enough to dissolve his resolve about not kissing you into dust.

He closes the distance, and you welcome him in, opening beautifully.

“Am I your rebound?” he teasingly asks between kisses.

You laugh against his lips and kiss him again. “Why did I ever leave you?” Your question is a sad murmur tinged with a regret that leaches off your words and floods into his heart.

“Because I was an asshole.” He believes these words completely but you’re shaking your head.

“No,” you reply. “You weren’t. Never that.”

The kisses between you, which at first were soft, quickly develop into deeper passion, twining like a spool of thread around a bobbin. John drags you against him, tasting over and over until you are imprinted on his memory.

Your arms drape over the back of his neck to pull him even closer, and John snaps. That gentle resolve is gone. He needs you.

Reaching down to cup your ass, John lifts you off the ground until your legs naturally wrap around his waist. He knows where the bedroom is but that’s too fucking far. The desire writhing between and around his bones is a blood-beast. A feral thing that calls out for your skin against his.

Setting you down on the counter, John shoves his helmet out of the way. You’re already reaching for him, undoing the front of his pants, slipping in to palm him. The inhale you make when your fingers wrap around his cock is sweet and John breathes it in as if that one sound makes up his entire lifeblood.

Fuck. Fuck.

He’s going to taste you everywhere. His lips and teeth will mark your skin. His tongue will find a home between your legs. You’ll forget this fuckers name. He just needs a few hours and it’ll be his name you’re screaming.

You stroke him again, and John drags you right to the edge of the counter, intending to sink to his knees to worship between your spread thighs.

Your knees lock at his hips and with another stroke of your hand, you tell him what you want. “I need you inside me. I want to feel you.”

You ask so sweetly. He can’t say no. He doesn’t want to.

John helps you ease his pants down to his thighs. When he goes to undress you, he only finds underwear under that large, oversized shirt.

“Fuck, love.” John’s finger drags that fabric aside and he groans at the sight.

You’re already wet. Aching. Ready for him. Begging him to bury himself inside.

This one will be quick. It’ll be rough and he’ll probably fucking spill within a minute, but he has the whole night to take you over every surface in this flat, to make you writhe and moan beneath him.

Placing one hand on the counter and one on your thigh, John starts to ease in. Inch by inch, slowly, he disappears until there is nothing left for him to give. He has a perfect view of how you stretch around him. How you slightly clench and unclench, the pleasure of it shooting to the base of his spine.

“Don’t leave me,” you murmur as Soap begins to thrust into you.

“Never,” he replies, nuzzling the side of your face as you pepper him with kisses.

John anchors himself, snapping his hips, chasing the end just so he can get you back into that bedroom to do so much more.

“You’re mine,” he groans as your fingers dig into his skin, pulling him closer. “Always have been.”

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[savemefromanepicoftimewasted]

The Boogeyman

Johnny "Soap" MacTavish X F!Reader

If he took you to the US there was a chance the military there would help cover up wherever you were in hopes that Phil would help them. A clear mind was the only thing he needed right now, Simon was already getting started on the search. God, he missed you even more right now.

A/N:thank you to everyone who voted for this fic! I got inspired by a tiktok and the idea has been sitting in my mind for ages, hope you enjoy! warnings:kidnapping, gore, violence, guns, mentions of war crimes, torture, language

The house was nearly silent, nothing but the sound of the wind howling outside could be heard throughout the halls. Johnny had let you know he wouldn’t be able to talk much during his newest mission, needing to lay low. You understood, of course you did, this was something he couldn’t talk about and you wouldn’t risk that for him. He’d left behind one of his favorite hoodies, wearing it enough that his cologne and natural scent had seeped into the fabric. It was a nice surprise to find during one of the more lonely nights. You’d curled up on the couch, hoodie nearly swallowing you whole as you watched one of your shows. Had you been aware, you would’ve noticed the figures creeping by the windows. Bodies casting shadows as they slipped in through the partially open windows. It was a habit you’d gotten into during the warmer months, complaining that it would be easier to get central air.

Your screams were muffled by a gloved hand, needle pressing into the skin of your bicep as you fell limp into your captors arms. A nod sent to one of their comrades, a discreetly placed note left on the kitchen table. Johnny would be in for quite the surprise when he finally made it home, the traitor.

◢◤◢◤◢◤◢◤◢◤◢◤◢◤

To say he was tired would be an understatement, but Johnny wanted nothing more than to be back in your arms. He lived for your cuddles, the way your hands seemed to ease all the aches and pains he suffered while he was away. A simple touch would drive away all the negative thoughts that were slowly creeping up on his mind. Running a hand down his face he tightened his other hand around the keyring he’d been holding onto. He was home earlier than expected, which meant he’d have more time to spend with you.

Sliding the key in slowly he bit his lower lip gently, unlocking the door as carefully as he was able so as not to alert you of his arrival. Once the lock was done he opened the door slowly, stepping inside to see where you were hiding. Except, there was nothing, silence hung heavy in the air like a thick weighted blanket. Had you stepped out to go shopping and he had come home before you’d gotten back? Sure, that must’ve been what’d happened. Slipping off his boots he headed towards the kitchen in search of a snack. The place looked clean, it stopped him in his tracks as he suddenly realized that there wasn’t a single thing out of place. It was why your marriage worked so well, he’d joked and called you scatterbrained at the best of times while he was a clean freak. You only ever cleaned up when you knew he was coming home, and he’d lied and said the mission was taking longer.

A folded note on the kitchen table caught his attention, his heart racing in his chest as he gingerly picked it up.

Johnny boy.

If you’re looking for your girl, well she’s taken a nice little visit with me and my boys. Might want to find her sooner than later, time’s a ticking.

Graves.

Johnny was angry, downright livid that Graves had managed to slip through his fingers and get to the one person he tried so hard to protect. Shit, he needed to call the guys and get started on a way to find you. Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck!

“I’m gonna find you bonnie, swear on my life.” Johnny turned towards the door, stopping in his tracks as the realization hit him fully.

They’d managed to find where you lived, they’d come to your home and taken you while he was far enough that he couldn’t stop them. God what if they were torturing you to get information? He’d tried so hard to keep his work and home life separate, not wanting you to hear about the things he’d done. He could cry later when you were safe in his arms once more, for now he needed to be strong and make sure they could get to you. Pulling out his phone Johnny dialed Simon’s number, hoping the other man was still at base.

“Johnny you know better than to be calling me so soon, we just saw each other this mornin’.” Simon wasn’t annoyed per se, but he wanted a few moments of peace.

“Graves took her, he took my fucking wife.” His voice had dipped low, a gravelly tone that would send any normal person panicking.

“Shit, how long ago did you get home?” Simon pushed himself away from the desk in front of him, heading down to Price’s office.

“Not even five minutes, found a note from the sick bastard.” Johnny was slowly going from worried to livid, he’d gut the man like a fish when he got his hands on him.

“Bring the note ‘ere, gonna call Laswell to see what we can do.” Simon hung up before he could utter another word, leaving the Scot to gather his things and make the drive back.

He slid the note into a plastic baggie, not wanting to risk anything happening to it before it could be analyzed by everyone available. Setting down the note he began to scour your shared home, how could they have gotten inside with all the alarms he’d set in place before leaving. Each floorboard that creaked beneath his foot was a reminder of how old the house was. It was then that he saw it, a window, cracked no more than four inches. You’d been complaining to him for months about wanting to get central air, and he’d promised to do it when he came back home.

Stepping over to the window he closed it carefully, clicking the latch so that it could no longer be opened from the outside. People looked at Johnny and assumed he was an idiot that didn’t know how things worked, and it definitely worked in his favor. If people were to assume he couldn’t handle things properly, they’d doubt his ability which gave him ample time to prepare. At the moment he was debating on what would work best, if Graves believed he was an idiot he’d get to you sooner. However, if Graves had bothered to read his file he’d know that Johnny had graduated top of his class in all aspects. He reached for the ring dangling from a chain on his neck, pressing a kiss to the cold metal. Without thinking he grabbed the note and his coat, Graves wouldn’t take you out of the country unless he wanted to risk exposure. If the wrong people saw what he was doing, Graves would be targeted quicker, and word would get back sooner.

If he took you to the US there was a chance the military there would help cover up wherever you were in hopes that Phil would help them. A clear mind was the only thing he needed right now, Simon was already getting started on the search. God, he missed you even more right now.

◢◤◢◤◢◤◢◤◢◤◢◤◢◤

Phil’s laugh echoed throughout the room you were currently being held in, they’d cuffed your ankle to the bed so that you couldn’t try to escape, even if you wouldn’t dare try. These were people who could kill you without feeling any type of remorse or thought, it was disgusting. The only thing you were truly thankful for was that they’d let you keep Johnny’s hoodie. It was obvious it wasn’t yours, given the size of it, and the fading scent was helping keep you sane.

“Now, c’mon sweetheart you know I’m only doing this because of who your husband is. The man’s a traitor and needs to pay for his crimes.” You pulled your legs up to your chest, wrapping your arms around your knees.

“Go to fucking hell.” You spat angrily, hot tears streaming down your cheeks.

“You’re making this harder than it needs to be, just make the video and we can all put this behind us.” Phil was slowly losing patience with you, he’d tie you to the chair if need be.

“I know you won’t let me go once he turns himself in, I wasn’t born fucking yesterday.” It was a ploy, a way to get Johnny here so they could capture him.

Phil sighed, nodding towards one of the other men dressed entirely in black to grab you off the bed. They moved like robots, grabbing onto your arms and legs as you kicked and screamed to be let go, ignoring your cries. Your arms and legs were tied to the chair, a small video camera facing where you sat. This is what they’d wanted, to make it seem like they were doing horrific things in order to get you to crack. Now while being kidnapped and cuffed to a bed wasn't a walk in the park, they hadn’t caused any physical harm to you, yet.

“Now, why don’t you be a good girl and beg for your dear husband to come and save you.” The red blinking light alluded to the fact that he was filming this.

“Eat shit you asshole.” You glared at him angrily behind the camera, defiant as ever.

“I was hoping it didn’t come to this.” The two men standing beside you stepped back as Phil walked over.

Your eyes widened with fear as he raised his hand, a harsh palm connecting with the skin of your cheek. Your cries echoed in the room, skin blooming with a painful scorching heat as another blow connected to the already bruising skin. 

“Please! Please stop!” You could hardly take anymore, he’d only hit you twice and you were crying out for Johnny to save you.

“Beg for him dollface, I can go all night if need be.” Phil’s voice sent shivers down your spine, if he was willing to slap you, what else was he willing to do?

“Johnny, please, I need you.” Your cries were weak, eye swelling as your cheek began to throb harder.

“See? Now that wasn’t so hard.” Phil stepped away from you, letting the camera get a few more moments of your sobbing before stopping the recording.

He handed the tape off to one of the other Shadows, telling them to upload it encrypted and send it to Laswell. Phil wasn’t an idiot, they’d send the whole damn task force to find you, he was sure of it. The only person he needed was Mr. MacTavish, and maybe Ghost but he wasn’t going to hold his breath for that one. The two Shadows standing behind your chair waited for further instructions. With a single nod they began to untie you, chaining you back to the bed before leaving the room. 

Their instructions were clear, nothing was to happen to you unless Phil gave the order, it was a simple routine for them. No one was on high alert, the video wouldn’t reach Laswell for at least another day, and by then there’d be another video sent out. Phil wasn’t sure what to make of you, you seemed too nice for a degenerate like Johnny.

“Make sure she’s got food and water later, don’t need her getting too weak.” Now, anyone who knew Phil knew he wasn’t the best type of guy, but you were just collateral right now.

“Sure thing boss.” The Shadow outside of your room relaxed as the other two exited, locking the door behind themselves.

You curled up on your side, clutching your cheek as gently as you could, unable to stop the tears that were streaming down your face. The pain was excruciating, radiating through your head like lightning. Praying to whatever higher power would listen, you hoped and prayed that Johnny would find you soon and get you out of his hell.

◢◤◢◤◢◤◢◤◢◤◢◤◢◤

Johnny angrily stormed out of the room, ready to tear apart Graves limb from limb until his screams were the only thing that everyone could hear. How dare that disgusting filth put his hands on you, the sound of your cries would haunt his dreams. Simon knew better than to follow him, everyone needed to figure out the best course of action that would get you back to safety. It wouldn’t do any of them good to go in head first.

“Will you fuck off! I’ve made it clear I’m not interested, so fuck off!” Simon’s head whipped around at Johnny’s pissed off tone, who the hell was he talking to?

Price ran out of the briefing room, coming between Johnny and a newer recruit that couldn’t quite take a hint.

“Hey! What the hell’s going on out here?” Price placed a hand on Johnny’s shoulder, pushing him further away from the recruit.

“This little hussie will not take the hint that I am happily married and do not understand I am their superior!” Johnny was beyond enraged, steam nearly pouring out of his ears with how angry he was.

“Soap, go sit down and take a breather, you are coming with me.” Price turned to face the recruit, tired of the shit he’d been dealing with because of her.

Her jaw dropped open, she was really about to get lectured by her captain because Johnny couldn’t keep his damn mouth shut? Johnny went back into the briefing room, shoulders tense as his gaze landed back on the screen. Your eyes were shining with tears, tears that he couldn’t wipe away because you were still fucking missing. Price was walking the recruit down to his office, ready to stop this whole mess once and for all.

“Sir I’m really sorry, I thought Johnny was into me, we’ve been flirting for a while.” She pouted her lip, eyes wide with what he assumed to be faux innocence.

“I know that’s a lie private, Soap’s made you run extra laps because you flirted and wouldn’t listen. Now if you’re going to ignore your superiors I will have you removed from this base.” It was harsh, probably the harshest thing he’d done in a while.

“Captain!” She was outraged, all because of some harmless flirting they were about to send her away.

“I will not repeat myself private. You are going to respect your Sergeant or I will have you removed by 0900 tomorrow.” Price was done with the conversation, there were more important things for him to worry about than some young punk flirting with one of his men.

She turned away from him, heading back towards the barracks with her shoulders tense and rigid.

“Better hope he doesn’t kill her, Johnny.” Her words were sharp, slicing through his chest before he had the chance to realize what she’d meant.

Johnny’s head whipped up and towards where the, now dejected, private was heading towards their private quarters. However, she hadn’t planned on Simon being close enough to hear her words, stalking behind her silently. Johnny wanted to follow after him, to get more information that he was so desperate for, but he knew better. Ghost was not someone you fucked around with, lest you leave with a few broken bones at the minimum. Her startled scream was cut off as Ghost’s hand covered her mouth, his other arm wrapping tightly around her waist. She was going to tell the truth whether she wanted to or not.

◢◤◢◤◢◤◢◤◢◤◢◤◢◤

You were terrified, different men had come in and out of the room at random times, waking you from the restless sleep you’d found yourself in more often than not. Sometimes they brought food, other times it was water. This time, however, Phil had joined them, a couple of leather straps held in his right hand. Your heart was racing, nothing could was going to come from whatever he had planned for you.

“Sorry sweetheart, but your boy hasn’t tried rescuing you yet and we need to send a message.” He nodded his head towards you, the two others grabbing onto your arms and dragging you down to one of the other rooms on the base.

You screamed, legs kicking wildly as you struggled to break the tight hold the other two men had on your arms. What kind of message did they need to send that required you to be tied down to a chair? By Phil no less. The two men pinned you down when Phil walked in, tying your ankles and wrists to the chair so that you were completely immobile.

“Please, please just let me go.” You’d lost all your fight, hands shaking as you cried into your lap.

“No can do sweetheart, see your little hubby and his Captain have plans to go after General Shepherd, and we just can’t have that.” Phil grabbed your jaw roughly, pulling your head up.

The camera was on, red light blinking as if it were taunting you once more. This would be another video sent to your husband, reminding him that you were still in danger.

“And, well I think we need to send a message about going after someone you shouldn’t.” Phil stepped away from you, reaching over to a table just outside of your range of vision.

The sound of metal scraping against wood had the hair all over your body standing on edge. What the hell was he doing?

The sound of a gunshot echoed in the room before the pain registered in your mind, your mouth opening as a blood curdling scream tore through your throat. Blood began to pour out from the wound on your leg, steadily enough to worry you as you threw your head back. Another gunshot tore another scream out, you were almost positive your femur had shattered the force of the bullet.

“Please! Fucking please, stop!” You pulled against the restraints, begging for any kind of reprieve.

“You know that ain’t gonna happen.” His hand clenched into a fist, colliding with the already bruised skin of your cheek.

You shrieked in pain, spitting the blood that began to pour into your mouth onto the floor. You’d made sure not to hit any of their feet lest they do anything worse.

The torture continued for what felt like hours, their fists colliding with different parts of your body as you struggled to stay conscious. Body hanging limp in the chair until they’d satiated their sick hunger. You’d passed out after Phil took out the new tape to be sent off, unaware of the words being passed between soldiers. The Shadows were simply doing a job, not risking their own lives if they dared to disobey. Surely the other man would get tired of doing these horrific things to you eventually, right?

◢◤◢◤◢◤◢◤◢◤◢◤◢◤

Johnny was downright furious, a tiger that had been caged too long and now begged to be set free so he could take down his enemies. The newest video had shown up, depicting horrors beyond his worst nightmares. Once he found you, he’d torture Phil until he was begging to die, rip him apart slowly as he screamed and cried for the embrace of death.

“John! We got a hit!” Laswell came running into the room, a laptop held tight in her arms.

Johnny all but threw himself towards the table, afraid of what he was going to find once Laswell set down the computer. It took a brief moment before his eyes landed on the white dot that signaled your current location.

“Massachusetts? Really?” Johnny was shocked that they hadn’t taken you somewhere more secluded, but knowing you were in the states? It worried him.

“You can thank the soldier who flirted with you, Simon was able to find out they’d been working together, she let slip where they were.” They’d need to get to you sooner than later, if your wounds happened to get infected there was a slim chance of survival.

Price had gotten a crew together, stocking all the medical supplies that could possibly be needed before walking onto the plane. Johnny couldn’t let his emotions get the better of him, lest they run the risk of Phil and his goons escaping with you. Everyone had geared up on the ride over, slotting knives and other weapons in easy to reach places. His hand slid over the barrel of his favorite gun, your name carved along the handle. He’d had you do it when the gun was completely unloaded, handing you the knife and keeping an eye on you the entire time.

“Don’t worry, we’re gonna make sure no one gets out alive except your girl.” Gaz knew how much the two of you loved one another, having attended the wedding all those years ago.

“I just want her back in my arms.” Johnny sighed, head hanging low between his shoulders.

“We’re gonna get her back, I promise.” Simon placed a hand on his shoulder, squeezing gently before taking a seat.

The ride was silent from then on, nothing but the sound of wind whipping by comforted the group as they waited for the plane to descend. It felt as if years had passed when they finally landed, getting ready to ambush the hidden base. The few men standing guard were easy to take out, a knife to the back of their head and their groans muffled by a hand. Once inside it became more apparent just how deserted the base was. It looked as if it hadn’t been touched in decades, a thick layer of dust coating everything. Simon grabbed the lapel of his tac vest, preventing him from taking another step.

Johnny wanted to argue with the older man, you were too important for any kinds of delays, and doing this counted as a goddamn delay. Simon didn’t speak a word as he glanced over their heads, Johnny’s gaze followed suit. Right above their heads, but barely noticeable, was a laser trip-wire. They would’ve given themselves away had they not realized, and who knows what would’ve happened to you then.

Nodding towards his lieutenant, Johnny pressed himself against the opposite wall, barely squeezing past the laser. His heart was slamming against his ribs until he was safely on the other side, he nodded towards the rest of the men, waiting until everyone was on his side before moving forward. The sounds of a voice suddenly became clear as they turned down the hall closest to them.

“C’mon sweetheart! Just give me what I want.” Phil’s hands tightened around your throat, cutting off your oxygen as you tried to pry his arms off of you.

You were in fight mode, determined to survive the torture he’d beel inflicting onto you for god knows how long. Stars began to cover your vision, your lungs burning as you slowly began to lose consciousness. Just before your world turned black the hands were gone, your body pulling in lungfuls of air. Gaz pulled you into his arms before fleeing from the room. It didn’t matter that Johnny was currently torturing Phil and was too blinded by rage to notice Gaz leaving with you. The medic had knocked you out immediately, cutting off your pajama pants and shirts to get started on treating the massive amount of wounds you now had. Gaz immediately turned away when he realized you weren’t wearing a bra, wanting you to be allowed your modesty. They would see some of the most horrific things, but seeing his friend's wife’s half naked body was too much. Your heart rate was slow when they got you hooked up, the subtle beeping making Gaz more worried by the second.

“Get the fuck out of my way!” Johnny’s voice echoed onto the plane, the sound of his boots following close behind.

“Soap! No!” Gaz grabbed his shoulders, preventing him from getting any closer to you and the medics that were working to keep you stable.

“Let go o’ me Garrick!” Johnny was insistent on getting over to you. He needed to make sure you were still alive, that he hadn’t lost you.

“I can’t do that, sir, I need you to calm down first.” It was playing with fire, keeping the two of you apart for even a moment longer.

The medics had you strapped down to the bed, anchoring the bed down so that you wouldn’t jostle during the flight somewhere safer. Johnny reluctantly sat down in his own seat, strapping himself in until they were in the air. He just needed to be by your side, to touch your skin and let you know he’d made it.

Nikolai’s voice was loud, letting everyone know that it was time to go and to please make sure you’re seated so there’s no accidents at all. Price and Gaz sat closer to you, though Johnny couldn’t fault them as to why, it still annoyed him. The medics were talking quietly amongst themselves, checking your wounds every fifteen minutes. It was something they’d done to him when he’d been shot in the shoulder during a mission. His eyes caught on the severe bruising around your own gunshot wounds. Shepherd would find the surprise, nobody fucks with John MacTavish and lives to see the day. The fact they used you as leverage turned his stomach, you were an innocent bystander in this scenario.

The plane began to descend, easing the tightness in his chest ever so slightly. You would be in surgery soon enough, you’d no longer be in pain. The medics had the bed unhooked from the wall and the gurney rushed into the building before Johnny could even unstrap himself.

“We need to debrief first, Soap, they’ll have her in surgery for a while.” Price didn’t want to come off so cold, but the last thing Johnny needed to do was worry.

“I know, but sir.” Johnny tried to step around him, getting angry when Price stopped him once more.

“The last thing you need to be doing is worrying over her, you’re gonna make yourself sick and that ain’t good for either of you.” It would be a fist fight if Johnny got his way, pushing through anyone that tried to stand in his way.

The two men stared one another down, seeing who would become too weak and crack under the pressure first. Ultimately, much to Johnny’s annoyance, Price had won. He patted the Scot’s shoulder, pushing him in the direction of the briefing room. Nearly everything that Soap had done would be redacted, Phil’s death is something he’d relive for months.

Gaz, and Simon were already in the room, along with Laswell and the two medics that had joined them. It felt as if he was retelling a child’s bedtime story and not the details of how he’d slaughtered one of Shepherd’s prized dogs. His voice was too calm, gaze locked on the wall opposite of where he sat. Laswell didn’t question anything that came out of his mouth, she knew the truth and that was all that mattered.

The moment she dismissed everyone he was out of the seat and rushing down towards where you were still in surgery. The nurses let him know you would be out soon, but would most likely be asleep for the rest of the day due to the trauma you’d suffered. They offered him water and food to help make sure he would be alright when you came to. He didn’t have to wait long before they were wheeling you to a recovery room, letting him know you had done amazing during surgery. The surgeon would be stopping by everyday for the next week to make sure your wounds didn’t develop an infection, Johnny hoped for your sake that never happened.

He nodded towards them, making a beeline straight for your room when he had the chance. You were wrapped up, your right leg in a cast while other parts of your body were wrapped with gauze. It was another reminder that he’d let you get hurt, that he couldn’t protect you from the very people he fought alongside with. Of course Phil and his goons would betray them, it was obvious during their last mission together that things had gotten a little heated.

“I’m so sorry, love.” Johnny gently lifted your hand, pressing a featherlight kiss to your knuckles as you slept.

The room was bare except for the curtain that separated your bed from being seen by anyone else that could be wheeled inside. The sun was slowly beginning to descend, shrouding the room in an ethereal glow. It reminded Johnny of the day you were married, the photographer had pulled the two of you outside during sunset, snapping one of his all time favorite photos. You were glowing, smiling wide as you stared up at your new husband as if he hung the moon and stars. Funny enough he was looking at you with the exact same expression, you were the light of his life.

“Mmm, hi sweetheart.” You pulled your hand from his grasp, cupping his cheek as gently as you were able.

“Shit, I should get the doctor.” He stood up to go and get one of the nurses at the least before you grabbed onto the fabric of his shirt, preventing him from leaving.

“Don’t, please don’t leave me right now.” You needed his presence more than you needed air right now, to know you were actually safe.

“I’m here lovie.” He grabbed your hand, plopping back down into the uncomfortable plastic chair.

Silence hung in the air like a storm cloud, surrounding the two of you. Price had told Laswell he would type up any reports that were needed so Johnny could stay by your side. She agreed only with the promise that he got the reports done before Phil’s body was discovered. It was a done deal, they’d make sure to wipe their hands clean of this mess and move on.

Johnny would be installing the cameras when you got home and make sure the windows were closed unless he was home to keep you safe. He couldn’t risk losing you, not again, he wouldn’t survive if something were to take you away from him once more.

For now, he just needed to make sure you healed properly and got better. You were all that mattered to him.

tagging: @gaylemonshark

[thewulf]

Okay hear me out!! If you hate it you can change it to whatever bc you are amazing and crush every single request! Soap x reader where reader is maybe newer or helping with TF 141 on assignment (can you make her American?? Idk I feel like there would be funny banter between the Scot and an American). Maybe she’s not as skilled in combat bc she’s usually back of house (engineer? Tech??) and need her expertise in the field. She’s trained just not confident ya know. Bc they’d never knowingly put someone in a dangerous situation if they couldn’t handle it. Anyway, everything is going good on the mission. You’re paired with Johnny. You get separated from him on your way out and reader has to kind of fight her way through against the bad guys while Johnny freaks and tries to find a way back to you, locked door, or something? When he finally gets to you your covered in (enemies) blood, but he can’t tell because your despondent and shaky. Like you can’t believe you had to just do that. He has to pull you out of your mind and out of the building. Super fluffy after being rly angsty please :)

Ohhh this is good! It'll be tough but good. Really heavy. But I think I can do it :) You got it anon!

[decaf-mother]

"Seeing Is Believing"

-

MDNI

-

John 'Soap' Mactavish x F!Reader

-

Dialogue Prompts: 31 & 35 & 25

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Warnings: Reader Gets Cheated On (Not By Soap), Friends to Lovers, Hurt + Comfort

-

It wasn't out of the ordinary for you to end up sat alone at the bar, your so-called boyfriend leaving you by yourself... Said he had to take a call. You didn't question it much, simply raising your glass back up to your lips.

He hasn't even bothered to remember your favorite drink or ask what you wanted, simply ordering for you then disappearing in a flash. Your face scrunches at the unsatisfactory aftertaste this particular drink leaves in its wake, setting the glass back down you begin to wonder what's taking him so long. Slowly you rise to your feet and make your way out to where he went, your heart drops in an instant...

He's wrapped in the arms of some random redhead, a girl you've seen a few times before... Always reassured that she was simply a colleague and that was all, yet here they were making out. You couldn't even speak- couldn't confront them. You felt sick.

Feet quickly carry you away from the bustling environment, leaving the sounds of drunken rambling and yells far behind, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes. He had driven you here and there's no way you can walk all the way home in the dark by yourself, simply stopping and catching your breath outside a little store that's closed for the night.

You dig into your purse retrieving your phone, swiftly dialing the only person you know you can count on, shoving down the urge to cry... Not wanting to fall apart despite the burning in your chest.

Johnny immediately picked up when he saw your name flash across his screen, clicking answer he was about to enthusiastically respond- then he heard your voice.

"Johnny..."

"Aye, what's wrong? Ye sound upset."

"Just... Can you come and get me? I'll explain later... I'm outside the little store called Owl Flower Shop..."

"Already on my way."

••

Even on the whole ride home he didn't ask any questions, he allowed you the space to speak when you were ready. It made his heart ache seeing that far off look in your eyes, the way you fidgeted even after entering his home. This place honestly was simply your second home at this point, many nights spent on your best friends couch watching movies.

"He cheated on me..."

You finally blurted out after Johnny returned from the kitchen with a glass of water for you, his blue eyes widen immediately.... It's like an instant fire was set in his chest.

"He bloody what?!"

You accept the glass of water, settling back against the cushions.

"Saw him kissing some other girl... Actually kissing is an understatement- they were trying to eat each other whole."

He doesn't hesitate to settle in beside you, arm draped over your shoulders to guide you closer to him. He's heated with rage but he holds it in- mostly. Focusing on comforting you instead, letting you sink into him and breathe in the familiar scent of oak, something a bit woodsy almost.

"Ye deserve so much more..."

He means it- the sincerity of it could make you melt, Scottish accent and rumbling voice reaching down to your soul. He rubs at your shoulder and you can feel a slight tenseness in him.

"You're angry."

It's just an observation- despite his best attempt at keeping calm, his mannerisms spoke absolute volumes... Plus, you've known him long enough to know that this probably had him boiling up inside.

"Aye, dinnae worry about it."

Your eyes search his face and you know Johnny well, despite your own heartbreak you try to lighten the mood, watching the way he sets his jaw and clenches a bit... So, you crack a joke that given the circumstances probably isn't the most appropriate- but when have either of you ever had good timing?

"You're so hot when you're mad."

You have to set your glass down on the coffee table after saying it, watching as the scotsman looks at you with a beyond stunned expression. You nervously swallow.

"I was just-"

"Ye think so?"

You can't help but squirm under the gaze of him, perhaps it wasn't entirely a joke after all.

"Uhh... Yeah."

"Well, I think yer a bonnie lass."

There's something heavy settling between the two of you, an awkward little laugh slipping past your lips in the face of being so very close to your dear friend.

"Yeah, right."

"Aye, I mean it."

You just can't bring yourself to look away, something setting ablaze inside you. Part of you screaming that it's wrong to look at your friend like this, especially after everything that's happened. The other part just going 'screw it'.

"Say it again..."

"Bonnie..."

He practically purrs out the word while leaning in close, something in him calling out for him to prove it to you, show you how much better you deserve. How wonderful you are inside out. He's always seen you as beautiful, flaws and all pulling him in yet he never dared to rock the boat... Now it's already been tipped over and you're both cast out to sea, desperately seeking out each other.

In a split second decision your hands reach up for his face, pulling him into a tender kiss finally feeling his lips on yours, his own flavor meeting your tongue and entirely erasing the aftertaste of that horrible drink from earlier.

Consumed by him entirely... If you had told your past self you'd end up in the arms of your handsome Scottish best friend- you wouldn't of believed yourself... Seeing Is Believing after all.

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{For @glitterypirateduck Soap It Up challenge}

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{If I got any Scottish lingo wrong please let me know. The idea of being called a Bonnie lass gives me butterflies.}

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{@sofasoap @gothgirl6-6-6 @soupbinsoup @sarraa-26 @caramlizedtomatoes-deactivated2 }

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{More Content}

[bitbugbites-cod]

𝙹𝙾𝙷𝙽 "𝚂𝙾𝙰𝙿" 𝙼𝙰𝙲𝚃𝙰𝚅𝙸𝚂𝙷 | 𝔪𝔞𝔰𝔱𝔢𝔯𝔩𝔦𝔰𝔱

SCOTLAND FOREVER!!!

𝔰𝔢𝔯𝔦𝔢𝔰

none, yet!

𝔬𝔫𝔢𝔰𝔥𝔬𝔱𝔰

Together // ~800 words // NSFW, ANGST, SORTA DARK(?)

It was Soap’s fault that you were detained–that you were stuck like this. A crazed test subject, alone in a cell. But it’s okay–you’ll forgive him–because your heart won’t listen to your mind anymore. You’ll fix things. You’ll make him like you.

𝔰𝔠𝔢𝔫𝔞𝔯𝔦𝔬𝔰

none, yet!

𝔥𝔢𝔞𝔡𝔠𝔞𝔫𝔬𝔫𝔰

Unmasking Headcanons // 5 chars. // FLUFF

characters: Alejandro Vargas, John "Soap" MacTavish, König, Kyle "Gaz" Garrick, Simon "Ghost" Riley

𝔟𝔬𝔱𝔰

Runt // c.ai & j.ai // NSFW

You tease Soap about his age. He seems more than eager to prove to you that he's no "boy." Older, Lieutenant MC x Soap

[ghostandsoap]

John "Soap" MacTavish

☾ - smut (MDI !!!!)

☆ - my personal favorites

My ao3: @allikatt9

One shots

Fem! Reader

Sitting with a Show ☾ - Soap watches his soccer game...but you would rather him watch you.

Fem! "Viper" Reader ("Viper" is the call sign of the reader...reader's real name is up to you!)

Stay - After an almost failed mission, Viper debates leaving Force 141.

[sofasoap]

Little first date

Pairing: Johnny “Soap” MacTavish x F!Reader

Summary: Johnny take his bonnie out for their first date, also meet the people who are important to his life.

Warning :T-M rating. All round fluff. talk of moments of insecurity.

Part 8 of Little Bear series

Masterlist

Should you? Or should you not? 

Picking up and putting down the piece of napkin in front of you, you keep changing your mind.

Gosh, why am I so indecisive?? Surely there is nothing to lose here. 

Other than my own pride.

You let out a desperate moan as you buried your face into the pillow. Thinking back to the night you met the Mohawk…. John MacTavish;

“No pressure bonnie.” as he grabs one of the napkins and asks for a pen from the bartender, he quickly scribbles down some numbers and a little doodle of bar of soap beside it and pushes it towards you. “Here’s my number, text me or ring me when you are ready. I’ll leave it in your hand.” 

He seems nice enough. Great sense of humour, handsome ( even with a strange mohawk. Is he trying to imitate Mr T? You wondered.) and those strong arm muscles… the slight chest hair that was peeking through the gap of his shirt when you spotted his dog tag…..

Ah stuff this. Why not? You always think you need to step out of your comfort zone. And this is another great chance to do it, isn’t it?

Making up your mind, you carefully thinking up of what to say, texted him and pressed send before your nerve got the better of you. 

You nearly jumped out of the skin when your phone went off not even a minute later after sending the text, you scramble forward to try to pick it up, nearly dropping it in the process.

“Heeellllo??” cursing yourself as your voice squeaked with nerve, you cough a bit and tried again, “Hello??”

A cheerful voice calls out your name, “I've been waiting for you!” Johnny chuckled, “So..you still keen to go out on a date with me?” 

“Um. Sure. I think so? If, if you are up for it??” you replied with uncertainty. 

And this is how you ended up at the pub, thirty minutes earlier than the agreed time, fretting all day over what you were going to wear, make up or not, should you walk? Should you call for a taxi, what should you order for food, what to talk about so you wouldn’t embarrass yourself?

This is all new to you. Never has someone asked you out before. Nor flirt with you. 

You have never gone on a date before.

“You alright there bonnie? I hope you haven’t been waiting too long.” steadying you with his strong arm, he greets you with his flashing smile. “You look beautiful tonight, by the way,” he added softly. 

You felt a light tap on your shoulder, dragging you out from your little swirl of panic whirlpool. Turning your head over your shoulder, there you see Johnny, dressed in tight fitting jeans, simple dress shirt and dark leather jacket. 

You feel your cheek burning hot, can this guy get any more handsome?  You stood up from your stool clumsily, nearly tripping over in the process, if his reflex wasn’t quick enough to catch you. 

He waved his hands dismissively, “They are getting here a little bit later, citing not wanting to disturb our date.” Pull out the stool slightly and urge you to sit down again, “ We can worry about them later. So, what would you like to drink? Food? Any preferences?”

“You. you look. Um, very nice too.” Oh, why are you so tongue tied? Wrangling your hands together,  you quietly replied, “No, I didn’t wait too long. So, Um. Where are the others?” You half wished his friends and sister would arrive soon, so you wouldn’t have to face him alone, but the other side of you is nervous to meet a new hoard of people all in one go , and wanting to spend a bit of time with him. Ah, that conflict of mind and emotion.

Sensing your nervousness, he gently eases you into conversation by asking simple questions about yourself, hanging onto every word you say, like each of them with great importance, asking all the right questions when you mention anything that he doesn’t quite understand. 

He only started talking about himself after you are slightly relaxed enough to ask what he does during time off, his hobby ( you found out he is a huge football fan, even played as a goalkeeper in local clubs for a while until work got too busy.) his family, his younger sister Mini, who he speaks fondly of and the all sort of mischiefs they get up to when they were younger. 

You nearly choked on your beer as you laughed with all the stories. “Sounds like you two had quite an adventurous and happy childhood.” 

“Funny enough, I was the wild one when we were younger, and she was the one who had me on a leash, now it’s the total opposite.”  he chuckled. Taking a sip of the beer, you see a twinkle in his eyes, “My parents would have to rebuild the barn countless times if it wasn’t for her stopping me setting it on fire.” putting his glass down, he stares at you softly with his steel-blue eyes, “You have a beautiful laugh, bonnie. Has anyone ever told you that?”

For the second time tonight, you think your face is going to combust with all the heat creeping up towards it. Looking down at your plate of dessert, pushing the chocolate fudge around with your fork, trying to think of a reply.

Before you can come up with something, you saw a hand slapping of Johnny’s back, making him spill his drink.

“Hello! You must be the unlucky lady that has to put up with this man here, " Johnny growled as you chuckle nervously, "Kyle Garrick, but you can call me Gaz.” Holding out his hand to shake after you introduced yourself, he smirked as he point towards your date,

A dark skinned man with a wide smile appeared.

“Oy Gaz! Watch it!!” Johnny complained, but there’s a playful smile on his face. He stood up and gave the man, Gaz, a quick hug, before turning back towards you.

“You know how excited he was when he got your text and after he got off the phone with you? He was practically dancing around the office and shouting for joy. Price, our captain, had to ask Simon to restrain him.” 

“Shut ..shut up Gaz, don’t give all my secrets away…. “ Stuttering and going a bit shy, Johnny elbowed Gaz in the stomach. 

“Well, he was telling the truth.” Another voice, deep and husky, piped up. Followed by a woman’s light giggle. 

“Where is Captain?” Johnny asked. Gaz shook his head, “He had to go home. He sent his apology to you and your lovely date, saying he would meet you next time.” 

“Hi, I’m this bampot’s sister, everyone calls me Mini.” her broad smile reminds you of Johnny’s own, you can really see the family resemblance there.

The Man right beside her, who seems to have a permanent frown plastered between his brows and a black surgical mask on, quietly introduced himself as Simon was a complete opposite to the rest of the group. This must be Ghost, who Johnny previously mentioned before. He doesn’t seem like the type of person that cracks jokes? You wondered. 

Oh, there’s next time again. Everyone seems to be so confident there will be a next time!

As the evening draws to a close, you bid goodbye to the group and with promises of future meet ups, Johnny offers to walk you home. 

The rest of the evening was spent in good company. They welcome you with open arms, Gaz and Mini taking turns to spill Johnny’s secrets and embarrassing stories. Simon even cracked a joke in between.

“That means he likes you.” Johnny whispered in your ear. “He doesn’t usually talk at all in front of strangers.

Even though it’s already springtime, there was still a bit of a bite to the evening breeze. You shivered as the wind started to pick up. 

Suddenly you see a hand in front of you, you look up, Johnny offers you his hand, silently asking with his eyes. You hesitated for a split second extending your hand, with him gently wrapping it with his large, callous but warm hand. He shifted his body slightly, blocking the wind out for you. 

Two of you slowly stroll towards your flat in comfortable silence.

“Thank you for the lovely evening.” looking up at him, as two of you came to a stop in front of your place. You feel a slight emptiness in your heart, as you realise the date has come to an end. Johnny still holding your hands in his, caressing the knuckles softly with his thumbs.

“Can I kiss you, bonnie?” he whispered softly, asking for permission. 

You only snapped back into sense after he slowly broke the kiss, leaning his forehead against yours. Sliding your hand down towards his chest, feeling his thumping heart.

You nodded your head shyly, body trembling slightly with anticipation. Bringing his hands up, he gently cups your face with his hands, leaning down, his lips hovering over yours for a few seconds, before closing the gap.

Oh, how you feel your body is going to melt into a puddle. Eyes fluttering to a close, your arms come up around his neck, pulling him down further, trying to make your body closer to his as much as possible.

“.. That was my first kiss…. “ you softly blurted out, making a confession. You don’t want this moment to end. Never have you felt such an overwhelming sense of emotion towards anyone else. Is this what falling in love feels like?

Feeling his arm around you, tightening his embrace, he took in a shaky breath before speaking.

“Well, I am very honoured to be your first.” he whispered softly into your ear. “And I hope this will be one of the many firsts that is yet to come.”

You knew you were a goner right there and then.

A/N: This actually went out a little bit longer than expected. oops. Word vomited too much sorry. was half watching Woman world cup final and half writing.

@a-small-writer-in-a-big-world

Tag list:

@kaplerrr

@homicidal-slvt

@floral-force @okayyadriana @deadbranch @cumikering @siilvan

@random-thot-generator

@random0lover @devcica @jynxmirage @nrdmssgs @glitterypirateduck @roosterr @brewed-pangolin @groguspicklejar

@johfaam @alverdekote @okamimarta @thedevillovesflowers

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