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sofasoap · 9 months

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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… “

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ghostandsoap · 6 months

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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."

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fxckingghxst · 1 year

Text

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.

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savemefromanepicoftimewasted · 5 months

Text

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.

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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.

◢◤◢◤◢◤◢◤◢◤◢◤◢◤

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?

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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

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thewulf · 3 months

Note

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!

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gloomwitchwrites · 1 month

Text

By the Belt (3 of 4)

Mechanic John "Soap" MacTavish x Female Reader

Content & Warnings: married couple, oral sex (female receiving), unprotected piv (wrap it up irl), creampie

Word Count: 1.2k

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

Soap needs a distraction, and you’re going to give it to him.

ao3 // taglist // main masterlist // by the belt masterlist

It’s Sunday. John’s shop is closed on Sunday.

Even so, he’s always working on something, his hands unable to lean into idleness for a moment. They desire something to hold, to tinker and learn and explore.

It’s the late afternoon, and you stand in John’s personal garage located at the back of your shared property. His actual shop is nearby, just a mile or so down the road. This is sacred space. The place he goes to work on all sorts of personal projects. You are off to the right of him beside his knees. John is on his back, partially submerged beneath a lifted car.

That always makes you nervous, even though you know he’s careful about his safety. You always imagine the machine keeping the car aloft breaking, sending the vehicle down to crush him. The car itself is vintage, a special project that John has been working on for months. The paint is stripped and its mostly bare bones.

Beneath the car, you hear John sigh heavily. He rolls out from under the car, the wheels on the rolling bed squeaking as he does so. When he notices you standing there, he immediately grins.

“Hello, wife,” he croons, sitting up and draping his forearms over his bent knees.

“Hello, husband,” you reply, matching his tone. His smile widens and a warmth blooms in your cheeks. “Thought you could use a break.”

Grinning, he pushes up to standing, crossing his arms over his chest. “What kind of break?”

With boldness in your blood, you reach out and slide your fingers in the belt loops of his dirty jeans. John stumbles forward, nearly knocking into you. That grin briefly transforms into surprise before settling into a sultry smirk.

“Oh, aye. I could use a break.” He leans in, your mouths meeting in a lovingly gentle kiss that warms you right down to your toes. When he breaks apart, that lovely grin is back. “But I’d hate to dirty your pretty skin with my hands.”

You tug on his belt again, smiling. “What if I want to get dirty?”

John laughs, his stained, oiled fingers hovering just shy of your skin. “You sure, love? Because I can do that.” Your answer is a brief yank on his belt. John shakes his head. “I warned you.”

You unthread your fingers and John makes a turn-around gesture. You comply, eagerness in your bones.

“Bend yourself over that table.” John points directly in front of you. It’s a workbench. There are a few tools but they’re off to the side, leaving the middle completely open.

Stepping up to it, you place your hands flat on the surface, bending forward, the angle forcing you up on your toes. John leaves you there. Lingering. Hanging. You have no idea if he’s watching you and enjoying the sight, or if he’s simply turned around and walked right out of the garage.

But you have your answer when John’s voice floats toward you.

“Lift up your dress,” he instructs, some rasp in his tone. He does not touch you, but you feel his presence. He’s close. You swear that you can feel his heat of the backs of your thighs as you reach back with both hands and lift your sundress up to your hips.

You are exposed to him. Utterly bare.

“Fuck. You dirty girl,” croons John, and you know exactly what he sees—or rather, what he doesn’t. “All bare under there. You knew what you were doing. Didn’t you?”

You did. You absolutely did.

Still, John does not touch. You hear the soft crinkle of his jeans as he goes down on his knees behind you, his warm breath brushing lightly against your pussy as he exhales.

“Spread for me a bit.” You shift your legs apart slightly. “Good,” he praises. “Like that.”

The moment you’re in position, John’s tongue parts your pussy with a slow stroke. He begins at your clit, moves upward, dipping the tip of his tongue into your sex before retreating. His hands rest on the table on either side of you, unmoving. Staying true to his word, John isn’t dirtying your pretty skin, but doesn’t mean he might not lose some control and touch you anyway.

Really, that’s what you want after all.

Using just his tongue, John traces circles, swirls up and down your sex, moves in languid motions that have you guessing. Every nerve is burning up like a sparkler. Your husband is teasing you, and fucking enjoying that he’s doing so.

He leaves nothing untouched, nothing untasted. Whimpering, John lightly kisses your clit, teasing it with the tip of his tongue. It’s not nearly enough.

“Stay still,” he chuckles, when your hips buck with wanton irritation. “Let me finish my meal.”

John’s mouth promptly returns, and you know you’re done. Utterly done. Brain dead. Air rapidly leaving a balloon. He sucks on your clit, then penetrates you with his tongue, only to do it all again. With each, he sucks just a bit harder, bordering on painful pleasure.

The next one has you nearly coming off the table.

“I’m gonna fuck you after this, love,” groans John. “Bloody hell, you’re sweet.”

He dives in and your nails dig into the tabletop, your voice cracking as you orgasm. You feel his smile against your flesh before his mouth disappears from it, only to be replaced by the familiar sound of unzipping jeans.

The head of his cock presses at your entrance but doesn’t penetrate. John lightly guides the head back and forth through your slickness, the sound of it echoing loudly in the garage.”

“Will you be a good girl and take it?”

You nod enthusiastically, strands of your hair shifting to stick against the back of your neck. “Yes,” you breathe. “Please.”

With a low moan, John starts to press in, your body not resisting, only wanting him inside. You both groan loudly as he bottoms out. Adjusting, John places his hands firmly above your head, anchoring himself.

He breathes deep, and reaches for your wrists, one at a time, trapping them against the table. John rolls his hips, thrusts lightly against you. It’s the perfect angle. You feel everything.

John increases the pace. Those light, almost shallow thrusts become languid and long, hitting deep when your bodies come together. From there, his thrusts turn sharp, a smacking pace that stings your flesh. You hardly care. John’s cock inside you is heaven, the thing just to ease the lust in your bones.

Every stroke is lovely, sending shivers of pleasure through your limbs. Your little moans become breathy exhales, your words leaving your lips silently, delivered only to the quietness of the air.

John’s head dips, his lips brushes over your exposed shoulder as he continues to thrust. “Gonna come inside you, love.”

It is not a question, and you will always say yes even if he asks.

His last few thrusts shake the table, the legs scaping against the concrete just before John holds his hips flush to yours. The groan as he finishes comes from deep within his throat. It’s a primal sound.

Glancing up, you watch as his grip on your wrists shift. He’s left some of that grease behind from working on the car on your skin. He said he wouldn’t mar it, but he couldn’t resist, and that feels like a victory.

John presses a kiss to your shoulder, and you tilt your head in his direction, seeking his gaze, even as he keeps himself inside you.

“Good break?” you murmur.

John chuckles. “Oh, aye.” He shrugs, nods toward your wrists. “But we need to get clean.”

taglist:

@glassgulls @km-ffluv @glitterypirateduck @tiredmetalenthusiast @spicyspicyliving @childofyuggoth @coffeecaketornado @aykxz98 @kayden666 @36namey @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

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simonrillleyyysss · 6 months

Text

.ೃ࿐ TEAPARTY

🫖🎀🐚

2/11/23

soap mactavish x housewife!reader

warnings; fluff, SIMON MENTIONBEEDSDDD,child is 4-5 years, reader is referred to as mummy, petnames, implied afab reader, minor kissing

notes ; cheer me up guys. short but sweet.

‘oh, thank ye’ malady!’

johnnys high pitched voice crackled out, holding the small cup full of ribena up to his lips, making slurping sounds as he drank from the glass.

‘no-daddy! ladies don’t slurp!’

the child protested, turning to simon who was ducked down onto the small chair, barely keeping afloat—humming as he pretended to sip at the imaginary tea.

‘mmhhh, s’very..good, innit johnny?’

the blonde said, looking over at the scotsman who was rolling his eyes, nodding and taking a sip, watching his daughter praise simon.

‘what’s going on?’

your voice crooned as you shuffled into the bedroom, your husbands face covered in.. makeup? you honestly didn’t know, turning to his associate, who was looking over at you.

‘back from work?’

johnny enquired, cut off by simon.

‘teaparty.’

‘but there’s no tea, so it’s not a tea party .’

you corrected, watching soap stand up and hoist the girl into his arms, bouncing her up and down.

‘uncle simon’s jest’ teachin’ us how real lassies’ drink tea, wanted to keep busy while ye’ were at work.’

the curlyheaded girl giggled, tucking her hair behind her ear, poking johnnys stubbly jaw, giving him an exaggerated peck on the cheek.

‘aye ! and i even did daddies makeup too!’

she boasted, simon standing up and lifting the toy cups, placing them neatly onto the table, large hand engulfing them as he pat johnnys back as he made his way out of the room, lifting his belongings and shutting the front door behind him with a goodbye.

‘i like it when uncle babysits me, way more funner than daddy.’

with a giggle, you kissed her forehead tenderly, watching soap gasp and throw her into the air, quickly catching her before tickling her, listening to her squeaks and giggles.

‘blow on it, it’s burny.’

you reminded, watching the small girl blow on the minuscule cup of tea infront of her on the table, holding the cup with her hand as she took a small sip, nodding in approval.

‘my teas way better,mammy!’

her accent rang out, continuing to slurp at the tea carefully, blowing on it every so often as you neatly folded the clothes

‘thought real ladies dinnae’ slurp, annat’ what yea’ said last ‘nite?’’

‘awk, leave her be johnny..she’s drinking her tea.’

‘and before you ask, yours is on the living room table.’

you quickly said, feeling the stubble of his beard brush against your shoulderblades as he pressed a peck to your neck.

‘good, need me some energy.’

#soap john mactavish #cod soap #soap mactavish #john soap mactavish x reader #soap mactavish x reader #soap x reader #soap smut #soap mactavish smut #soap mw2 #john soap mactavish #soap fluff #johnny soap mctavish x reader #johnny soap mactavish x reader #johnny mactavish #john mactavish x reader #john mactavish fluff #Spotify

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homicidal-slvt · 9 months

Text

"Heaven Knocked"

MDNI

John 'Soap' Mactavish x F!Reader

Civilian|Y/N

Inspired by @sofasoap

Warnings: Cheesy Fluff, Mention of asshat dudes

You have had so many bad experiences with pick up lines being thrown your way- eyes that wander in a way they shouldn't. Cockiness, self-righteous, and generally horrendous attitudes of men that cross your path.

Just recently yet another failed date where you were forced to sit and listen to a guy mansplain your own job to you.

God, these shitheads need to be glitter bombed.

Standing outside now beneath the harsh rays of sunlight, eyes cast out towards the rolling sea. The breeze at least made the heat not so unbearable.

The sound of a new pair of feet approaching dragged you out of your head.

"Beautiful day, yeah?"

His thick Scottish accent definitely peaked your interest, taking in his features carefully you felt your heart freeze for a second... Those eyes.

The rolling blue of them mimicked the sea perfectly, so much hidden beneath the surface- something you could certainly get lost in if you weren't careful.

So, for your own sake you quickly looked away.

"Yeah... It is a beautiful day..."

You weren't sure if the conversation was going to go anywhere or how to take it anywhere- this man is a stranger but you prayed he'd talk more.

You tried to convince yourself it's just because he has a nice accent.

Or maybe his little mohawk was endearing in a way.

Or those blue eyes-

No... Stop that.

"Ever go swimming out there?"

"What- no. Are you crazy?"

You looked at him as though he'd lost his mind- earning a laugh.

Who in their right mind would swim in the ocean?

Sure- people do it. But you wouldn't be caught dead stepping foot in that giant death soup.

"Bet it'd be cool on a day like today."

"I'd rather cool off with ice cream."

With a small flicker in his eyes he turned towards you, you created the perfect opening for him... He was wondering how to lead into this.

"How about we go get some ice cream, then?"

"Y'know what- sure."

••

Of course one date lead to several and you didn't regret chatting with that friendly stranger for a single moment.

Sure- he uses cheesy pick up lines nearly constantly... But it's sweet.

There is nothing shallow in the way he looks at you and there is never any 'just trying to get in your pants' type attitude.

Instead he just wants to see you smile and laugh, heart warming to say the least.

He waltzed into the kitchen and you knew just based off his grin.

"Johnny-"

"Bonnie ye won't believe what just happened."

"I'm sure I won't."

He wasn't even mildly discouraged by your remark, resting his hands on the counter keeping his eyes locked on you. Deep rolling blue.

"Heaven knocked and they want their angel back."

You knew it was coming but still chuckled nonetheless.

"Are you seriously going to use a pick-up line on me everytime you come over?"

"Yep."

"Won't you run out?"

"Not anytime soon."

You sighed and pretended to be annoyed... But you hoped he'd never run out.

It's not like other guys cheesy pick up lines... No... Never.

At this point you swore Johnny is the angel that heaven is missing.

"Think you're hiding some wings or somethin' from me..."

"Aha! I'm rubbing off on ye."

"Oh, cut it out."

{My brain is so silly recently.}

{@gothgirl6-6-6 @soupbinsoup }

{More Content}

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shadowspromise · 17 days

Text

oops i disappeared but i am BACK

i have no ideas, gimme something to write

#ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley #simon riley #simon riley x you #soap fluff #soap x reader #soap cod #john soap mactavish x reader #john soap mctavish x reader #soap mactavish x reader #johnny mactavish fluff #john mactavish fluff #johnny mactavish x reader #john mactavish x reader #john soap mactavish

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sofasoap · 8 months

Text

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

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