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God knows his mammy wouldn't have let him out off the house in the state he returned in. He was 100% the kid whose shoes sole was hanging off like a tongue by the end of the year..

Army straightened him up rightly

!Secondary-school Johnny x Reader

Shooting across the road, ready in your school uniform, shoes untied with a bowl of cereal in hand. Juggling the task of opening the door and calling on Mrs. MacTavish if she was up and footering about.

Always assuring the 'breadwinner', Mr. MacTavish, you'd brung your own milk. God knows he's not paying for some skiver from across the street, even though he'd known you since you were just a tote.

His wee sister would be watching early morning CBBC in the sitting room. You'd chat with his mammy and elder sisters as he bustled downstairs fighting with his School tie, watching over your shoulder with a grin on your face - He knew the look in your eyes when his mum lost the plot watching him, tying it for him like he was a child. He'd never live moments like that up.

You'd be in a small headlock by the time you were out the door, and unless you were rushing for the bus and pushing the clock, the local corner shop was your stop before school with Johnnh obnoxiously slurping his lucozade, school-bag slung of his shoulder, pockets funny with change and god knows that shirt would be untucked before the bell rang for break..

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!Secondary-school Johnny x Reader

Shooting across the road, ready in your school uniform, shoes untied with a bowl of cereal in hand. Juggling the task of opening the door and calling on Mrs. MacTavish if she was up and footering about.

Always assuring the 'breadwinner', Mr. MacTavish, you'd brung your own milk. God knows he's not paying for some skiver from across the street, even though he'd known you since you were just a tote.

His wee sister would be watching early morning CBBC in the sitting room. You'd chat with his mammy and elder sisters as he bustled downstairs fighting with his School tie, watching over your shoulder with a grin on your face - He knew the look in your eyes when his mum lost the plot watching him, tying it for him like he was a child. He'd never live moments like that up.

You'd be in a small headlock by the time you were out the door, and unless you were rushing for the bus and pushing the clock, the local corner shop was your stop before school with Johnnh obnoxiously slurping his lucozade, school-bag slung of his shoulder, pockets funny with change and god knows that shirt would be untucked before the bell rang for break..

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Won’t Go Home Without You | Soap x Reader

The pub door slammed behind him, the bitter taste of whiskey still stinging his throat. The streets of London stretched dark and wet under yellow streetlights, but Johnny MacTavish barely noticed.

She left. She really left.

His boots hit the slick pavement hard as he paced the block, scanning every passing face, every car. He knew you’d walked out not ten minutes ago, your voice breaking as you told him you were finished, done trying, done waiting for him to figure out what he wanted.

But he knew. God, he knew the second the door shut behind you.

And now he couldn’t breathe.

Pulling his jacket tighter against the cold rain, Soap shoved his phone in his pocket without dialing. You wouldn’t pick up. Not tonight. Not after the way he’d snapped—after the careless words that cut deeper than a knife.

"You deserve someone who doesn’t live like this," he’d said. "Someone who’s not broken."

But you didn’t want someone perfect. You wanted him. Even broken. And he’d been too blind, too afraid to let you in.

Not tonight. Not like this.

He turned the corner toward the river, chest tight, every breath burning like guilt. There you were, standing under the flickering glow of a streetlamp, staring out at the water, hair clinging wet to your face, arms wrapped around yourself like armor.

“Lass.”

Your shoulders stiffened, but you didn’t turn.

“Don’t,” you warned, voice low and raw. “Don’t follow me. Just let it go, Johnny. Please.”

He swallowed hard, the lump in his throat choking him. “I can’t. I won’t.”

Silence. Except for the rain pattering on concrete.

“I said things I didn’t mean.” His voice was rough. Honest. “I thought pushing you away’d keep you safe. But all I did was lose you.”

You finally turned, eyes shining—not with rain. “I begged you to let me stay. You shoved me out.”

“I was wrong.” He stepped closer, slow and careful like you were glass. “I thought this job meant I’d never be good for anyone. But I’m worse without you. I can’t go back to that flat, that life... not if you’re not there. I won’t go home without you.”

The fight in your chest wavered. His hand reached for yours—hesitant, shaking like he never did on the field.

“Johnny—”

He gripped your hand tight, pressing your palm to his chest. “I’d crawl, I’d beg... hell, I’d bleed if you’d stay. I’ll do it right. I swear.”

The rain ran down both your faces like quiet tears. Your heart stuttered, cracking under the weight of him—all his regrets, laid bare and trembling.

“Take me home, then,” you whispered.

His breath hitched, a broken sound of relief as he pulled you close, rain and guilt and hope mixing between you.

“Never lettin’ you walk away again,” he murmured into your hair.

And he meant it.

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Soap teasing u abt some insanely fruity cocktail ur drinking so u ask "do you want a sip?" And before he can grab ur glass u grip his jaw and pull him into a kiss. Literally forcing the drink into his mouth in front of the whole table, grinning when he swallowed and you lick into him for a moment to savor the taste.

Anyways ghost has to literally scruff soap to stop him from going down on u in the middle of a public bar lol

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Johnny excusing himself from where you sat together on the couch, leaving you to the bowl of popcorn in your lap as he made his way to the bathroom.

Only for the door to burst open mere seconds after it'd clicked shut, the rush of footsteps turning your head before Johnny had you up off the couch and crushed into his arms. Popcorn raining down to make a mess of the floor, his eyes crinkling at the corners before he peppered your face in kisses.

"You love me! Dinnae try ta hide it, bonnie! Ah know you do!"

"Johnny, what on earth?"

An explanation coming quickly, with a wide, familiar grin that often spelled some level of teasing or trouble.

"First time since you've been comin' 'round my flat that you felt at ease 'nough ta leave the cludgie proper boggin'. That's a kind of comfortable that only comes with love."

It's the sort of comment you ought to have expected from Johnny. Not only had he always come off to you as laid back enough not to care about his partner absolutely bombing his bathroom, but because him being a devious enough devil to try and embarrass you about it was practically expected.

"A sweet boyfriend wouldn't point that out, MacTavish!"

"He would when he wants his love knowin' how happy he is that they can relax in his home."

"I hate you."

"Ah love you. Clarty arse an' all."

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IDK what it is about Johnny, just in general, but mixed with the whole growing up together, living on the same residential street, kicking about in lower and upper school trope - something about that just ticks in my head cause you know that fucker was 100% sure at some age, "I'm gonna marry you someday." And he would, It'd be set in stone.

I JUST THINK IT WORKS, out of all the guys, this one belongs to Soap.

They would also share a mutual hate for Jamie Oliver for taking away turkey-twizzlers and fried Mars bars from school in the 2000s. Fight me.

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Any Derry girls watchers will know what I'm getting at here when I say Johnny's Mammy is 100% like Mary when trying to get the washing done.

Teenage!Johnny & Reader, there was more than one occasion they were stripped down to their whites just so she could put a dark wash on full of their school uniforms.

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Cry-er BTW total snotter and chest hitter despite the relief that he's home in front of you, instead of laying with a bullet to the head like the warstories you imagined..

Get away from me. Being called downstairs for breakfast by your ma just to see that Scottish fucker standing in your childhood kitchen with a grin on his face, coming home for the first time.

Proud, 'childhood friends to lovers', Soap supporter

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Get away from me. Being called downstairs for breakfast by your ma just to see that Scottish fucker standing in your childhood kitchen with a grin on his face, coming home for the first time.

Proud, 'childhood friends to lovers', Soap supporter

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Pls one of you gets me when I say Johnny would have a relationship ship like in 'King of Queens'

One of you better fucking get this I'm not crazy

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Johnny's so hot, yous gotta show that freak some more appreciation

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This is Johnny's pathetic arse

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She catcalls him on the daily, he's her sexy, deterring man what the problem?

Simon riley with a girlfriend that eats like a bend over flash your buttcrack builder.

Sausage butty with a Lucozade on the side

Crisp sandwich

Mushypeas on a gravy chippy

& Beans on toast

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Simon riley with a girlfriend that eats like a bend over flash your buttcrack builder.

Sausage butty with a Lucozade on the side

Crisp sandwich

Mushypeas on a gravy chippy

& Beans on toast

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God forgive me for butchering soap's accent. Is there a guide for writing about Scottish people? I genuinely dread the thought that I'm making him sound stupid.

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Boyfriend!Johnny MacTavish is the type of driver to have you unwrap a chewit while it's between his teeth. The floor of his car definitely needs a good vacuum.

Boyfriend!Simon Riley, who has an old winegum stuck and partially melted by the sun in the cup holder of his car, he has disgusting change kicking about too.

Boyfriend!Gaz Garrick, who doesn't let you eat inside the car but has a sneaky packet of crisps or fudge bar and meticulously gets rid of the evidence.

Boyfriend!John Price, whose centre console is sticky with spilt coffee and drives tapping his fingers to the tune on the radio.

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Johnny MacTavish

X

Reader