Thank you to everyone who got me to 5000 likes!
Since I can't decide who to write for next and I've got a couple fics in the works for both of them, I'll let yall decide in my very first poll :)
Summary: soap helps you with your skincare
Warnings: none just fluff :)
Pairing: John "soap" mactavish x gf!reader
Word Count-~1k
A/n: this is my first time writing for Soap Mactavish(actually any of the 141) so it may be pretty rough. This story was inspired by the lovely 𫧠anon on @uselsshuman blog! My requests are open for any of the 141 characters so please send in any requests you want! As always beware of typos but I hope you all enjoy!âŁď¸
You were almost religious with your skincare. You took pride in taking care of your skin and it was something you loved doing in the morning. You loved the routine of layering your skin in different serums and creams and watching them work their magic. Whenever Johnny was home, he loved watching you from the bathroom doorway or sitting on the toilet seat. Because of his job you two didnât get to share many domestic or intimate moments like this so Soap took what he could get. Soap always pestered you to let him do it for you and you always said no.
âCome on hen I could it!â Was something you always heard when he was home and you smiled but said no.
You were staring at yourself in the mirror getting ready to wash your face when Soap woke up; he had always been a heavy sleeper, something that was a blessing when he was a teenager but something that could get him killed in his line of work. Whenever he was home you did your best not to disturb him because you knew he didn't get much sleep when he was gone. Soap felt for your warm body and when he was met with cold sheets he took a look around to see the bathroom light on. The clock on his bedside table read â10:30â. He stretched and rolled out of bed to find you.
âMorninâ Bonnie,â he said, walking over to your shared bathroom, rubbing the sleep from his eyes, his thick accent thicker with sleep. âMorning babe,â you smiled, grabbing your face wash and a towel. His eyes lit up whe he saw your face wash and bottles of serums lined up on the counter. You saw him eyeing your bottles and shook your head, a smile already forming on your face. âNo Johnny no!â You said, knowing exactly what he was going to ask. âOh please Bonnie!â He whined, wrapping his arms around your waist, resting his head on your shoulder.
You only wore a tank top so his stubble scratched your bare shoulder. âJohnny you donât even know how to do it!â You laughed, making eye contact through the mirror. âYes I do, I watch you all the time,â He replied, kissing and sucking on the sweet spot on your neck trying to get you to fold. âJohnny no st-â you started before he reached down to squeeze your ass. âOkay alright,â You laughed. âYou wonât regret this bonnie,â he said, planting a kiss on your cheek with a smile too big for his face. âI think I already am,â You mumbled.
âOkay first thing is washing your face hen everyone knows that,â He said, turning on the hot water. âOf course,â You said, watching him reach in front of you to turn on the hot water. Soap squirted some face wash and his hands and worked it into a lather before rubbing it onto your face. You winced at how rough he rubbed the soap into your skin but didnât say anything. You also didnât say anything when he got soap in your eye and tried your best not to wince at the sting. âOkay time to rinse,â he said and you leaned forward rinsing off the soap, the stinging sensation finally going away.
He grabbed a towel and rubbed your face dry before picking up you up by the waist and setting you on the counter. He stepped in between your legs and you had to widen your legs to accommodate him. âOkay first bottle weâre gonna do is this niaâŚniacin..â He said, struggling to pronounce the name written on the label. âNiacinamide?â You offered, trying not to chuckle. âYeah thatâs it,â He smiled and you wanted to tell him he wasnât supposed to use it yet but you kept quiet. âWhatâs this for?â He asked. âIt does a lot of things but it mainly helps with pores and textural irregularities,â You told him.
Johnny nodded and used the pipette to drop the serum onto your face and you were surprised that he was gentle in his kneading compared to the face wash. âDoes that feel nice hen?â He asked and you smiled. âOf course it does love,â You said. âOkay now for the hylronic acid,â He said, and you couldnât help but laugh at how he pronounced the name. âThis one is to help bring moisture back into my skin,â You told him, knowing he was going to ask.
âI canât believe you do this every morning bonnie,â he said, emphasizing the âevery morningâ in disbelief. âSo many steps,â said Soap, screwing the tiny lid back onto the bottle. You hadnât realize how small his hands made the bottles seem. âEvery morning,â you emapsized. âI do it at night too,â you smiled and he shook his head. âCaffeine and de puffing,â he looked at the tiny bottle in his hand. âYou put it on my undereyes. It helps to de-puff and energize them,â You instructed him. Johnny put some of the thick liquid on your undereye. He started massaging it into your skin when some of the serum got into your eye and you recoiled.
âOh shite sorry y/nâ he said, a worried look taking over his face. âDonât worry about it hun Iâm okay,â you said, trying not to tear up from the pain. âWhatâs next?â You said, genuinely wondering since he did the routine out of order. âThis is the only one left. Plant-based squaline,â he said, again reading the label. âThis one does a lot of things too; enhanced barrier support, moisturizing, all kinds of stuff,â You said, watching him unscrew the lid and drop the oily liquid onto your skin. âYou really need all of this stuff?â He asked, curious. âI donât need it but it does help,â You said.
He did take care to massage your skin more carefully to avoid your eyes. âLast is this right?â He said, holding up your lotion. âThatâs right,â You said, watching him pour some lotion onto his hand and rub it together before spreading it on your skin. You focused on the feeling of Johnnyâs fingers massaging the lotion into your skin and listening to his soft humming as he focused on his work. You enjoyed the simply intimate moment between the two of you, not knowing when youâd get the chance again to enjoy it. âDoes it really feel that good?â He asked and you opened your eyes to find him smirking. âIt did feel really good,â you whispered, planting a kiss on his lips.
âSo howâd I do bonnie?â He asked, looking a little too pleased with himself and you couldnât bring yourself to tell him he did it completely out of order and hurt your eye not once but twice. âYou did great Johnny,â you said smiling at him. âReally think so?â He said, helping you down from the counter. âWellâŚ.. Maybe itâs best to leave the skincare to me. You did the wrong steps and hurt my eye. Twice,â You said, with a small smile. âOkay no need to be cheeky hen Iâll leave you to your thing,â He laughed. You stood on your toe to give him a kiss. âI wouldnât mind you watching me though,â You said. Soap slipped his arms around your waist and returned your kiss. âI wouldnât mind doing that,â
I just can't help myself *shrugs*
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Hello, I was wondering if you are still opened for any requests, could please you do an inexperienced female reader and Aaric Greycastle have been very close friends, and the reader is the only one that sees Aaric can truly be comfortable around and see his vulnerable side, she is the only one that he lets her call him 'Cam' in private. They been dancing around their feelings for months, always skirting too close before pulling away. One night, after a grueling battle, they both find themselves alone in the barracks or locker rooms. His armor is half undone, his shirt clinging to his skin, and the reader know she shouldn't be looking. But when he catches her gaze-intense, unreadable he takes a slow step forward. "Say the word," he murmurs, his voice rough, dangerous...and the rest came be up to you.Â
There is not that many Aaric fanfics sadly...and my boy honestly deserves more love...
Yes my requests are definitely still open!!
omg yes Aaric deserves way more loveđ
I love this idea so much! Them meeting after the Battle of Basgiath at the end of Iron Flameđ
Will be working on this immediately đ¤
I finished writing it and I hated itđ
It'll be a minute before I can get it posted
Been writing a soap fic over my break from school and I can't wait to release it :3
Updated: 4-22-25
đ=Fluff
đ=smut
â¤ď¸âđŠš=angst
Pairing: Soap Mactavish x gf!reader
Summary: Soap goes out for a boy's night with Simon and has a little too much to drink
Word Count: 934
Warnings: none
A/N: took a little longer to get his one out but here ya go :) my requests are open for all characters I write for
Little shorter than I usually write them but I how you enjoy! I tried including more of his Scottish accent so I tried making it accurate! Beware of typos :)
You were snuggled up on the couch watching your favorite reality show with Finn, your and Johnny's border collie, curled up and dozing by your feet. Johnny had gotten back from leave almost a week ago and spent the first few days with you. Tonight though, he went out for a guy's night to the bar with Simon so it was just you and Finn until Johnny inevitably is driven home. Your Scot didn't drink often, but when he did he definitely goes all in.
Suddenly you heard a car door shut and heavy footfalls approach your front door. You got up when a knock sounded and you open it to find Simon standing on your front porch. Johnny was hanging off of Simon's arm and Simon was trying to support him as Johnny rambled on loudly. "He got shit-faced at the bar so I wanted to bring him home," Simon grunted. "I woulda called but I didn't want to bother you," he added. "No that's okay thank you Simon," you said, stepping out and grabbing Johnny.
You wrapped his arm around your shoulders and with a final thank you and goodbye to Simon, you shut the door behind you. "Why, aren't ya a pretty lass!" Johnny exclaimed. "Not as pretty as mine though," he continued, seeming to forget your relationship. "Oh yeah? Is she really that pretty?" You laughed, playing along with him while you steered him toward the bedroom. "Aye! I never saw anyone quite as pretty as her," he affirmed, his words slurring together.
When you got the bedroom you set him on the bed with a flop. You unlaced his shoes and pulled them off his feet and dropped on the floor of the closet. Johnny kept on talking but you couldn't understand much of what he was saying, his words slurring together too much. "It's too fuckin' hot in 'ere!" He complained and you turned around to see him peeling off his shirt. You picked out some clean sweatpants and a t shirt and set them on the bed. "Come on let's get the rest of these clothes off of you," you said, your hands reaching for his belt to help him change his pants. "Fuckin' hell woman what'd I tell ya!" He practically shouted, shoving your hands away and jumping to his feet; although he teetered slightly.
"Johnny!" You said, shocked; he had never raised his voice to you ever, even when he had a little too much too drink. "I already told ya! I'm taken!" He continued. "Johnny what are you talking about?" You asked, slightly bemused. "You oughta be ashamed of yerself trying to fool around with a claimed man," he huffed. Deciding it would be easier to just go along with it you gently pushed him back onto the bed to get him settled. "I've got the prettiest hen waiting for me back home lass," he said, his thick accent getting thicker as he mumbled. "And I'm going to marry her one day," his head fell back against the pillows and in no time at all Johnny was snoring.
Your hand stilled as you were pulling the covers over him and looked at your sleeping boyfriend. You quickly brushed the thought away and covered him with the sheets.
Soap woke up the next morning, groaning and covering his eyes to shield them from the sunlight filtering into the room. The room spun slightly as he sat up and his head throbbed. He couldn't remember much of last night after he and Simon left the bar. He looked over at your side of the bed and you weren't there; smells of eggs and sausages frying told him you were in the kitchen.
He flipped the sheets off of himself and saw on his nightstand were a couple of pain relievers and a small glass of water. You were a saint he thought as he took the pills and gulped down the water to battle the nasty hangover. The bright light hurt his eyes so he squinted as he stood up to change out the jeans he obviously slept in before brushing his teeth. He slowly made his way to the kitchen and saw you cooking breakfast.
"Good morning," you smirked, taking in his disheveled appearance. "How do you feel?" You asked. "Like shite," he mumbled, wrapping his arms around you from behind and nuzzling his face into your neck. "I didnae say anything daft did I?" He mumbled into your neck. "Hmmm....you did tell me you had a pretty girlfriend waiting for you when I tried to help you get changed," you mused. And you told me you were going to marry me. But you kept that to yourself.
"Sorry for being so drunk," he apologized, wondering what all you had to put up with. He started getting dizzy so he sat himself at the kitchen table watching you. "Don't worry about it," you planted a kiss on his cheek. "Maybe this will make you feel better," you smiled, and placed a full Scottish breakfast(minus the mushrooms because he didn't like them) in front of him. "Ya really spoil me Bonnie," he said before digging in. You ate with him and couldn't help but let your mind wander to what he had said the previous night. And I'm going to marry her one day. That's what he had said and you wanted to marry Johnny more than anything but he just said that because he was drunk. Right? What you didn't know was that hidden in Johnny's nightstand was an engagement ring that he bought the first day he met you.
Capi this was so goodđđ
You had joked with Ghost before about getting married, never with a tone serious enough for it to be taken into account, even if it was something you dreamed about whenever you were alone with your thoughts. What you hadnât expected was the question to come up at such an inopportune time.Â
Pairing: Simon "Ghost" Riley x Sergeant Reader
rbs greatly appreciated!
WC: 2.1 K
a/n: i hate giving my fics titles so just assume the song in the title is the vibe i want the fic to have lmao. also this is unedited and not beta read so beware of typos and shit
warnings: estabilished relationship, profanity, whump, description of wound, mentions of death, badly timed marriage proposal, medical inaccuracies, fluff, happy ending
Itâs cold.
No, scratch that. Itâs fucking freezing.
God, you hate the cold. Considering how much you despise it, it amuses you to think you might have been a desert creature in another life. A lizard, maybe. The types to scurry really fast and eat small insects all day. What a life.
Youâre lost in your musings but you think there are a few very faint voices calling for you. Where are they coming from? Above? Seems like it. First, you hear their voices getting clearer, and recognize a word. Itâs your codename, meaning, itâs your teammates voices. But why do they sound so agitated? Next, you feel pain. Quickly rising, scorching hot pain in your abdomen.Â
Oh, thatâs right. You were shot.
A scream echoes out wherever you are and only later youâd recognize it as your own, in the same moment you recognize Ghostâs own booming voice frantically calling out for you, and the heavy weight of Soapâs large hands holding you down so you wouldnât trash as much. It had been ironic, really, how much the mission went smoothly, 99% of it being completed without a hitch, but right as you were about to celebrate success, some fucker neither of you had seen before had decided to put a bullet in you - any of you - blindly, and it so happened it would hit you. The offender was long gone, a throw knife lodged in his skull as quick as a blink of an eye in the split second after the gunshot was heard, but the damage was already done. A few seconds before it happened, you had groaned how much you couldnât wait for evac to come so you could take a hot shower and sleep, since your bones were aching, and Gaz had laughed and called you old-spirited. So much for that shower, you think as you take in the surroundings of what you could see of the abandoned safe house from your position on the blood stained table. It was painful to think about if that same table was used in the past for a family reunion or to gather folks around for good news, before hell broke loose and war tore apart the people, so you didnât think about it. Ghost called your codename again and you cast your eyes downwards to look at him, the fear in his eyes sending a chill down your spine.
âHey! Talk to me, donât you dare close your eyes!â
You had screamed as he was removing the projectile from your flesh, you realized. Was not your first rodeo, a thought that made you want to laugh bitterly, but just the idea of laughing made you wince in pain. His hands were currently trying to stop the bleeding, and after taking one look at the wound, you suddenly felt at peace.Â
It was pretty shitty you were going to die in an equally shitty safehouse, but thatâs the life you chose. So, against your better judgment, you chuckle lowly and decide to follow your superiorâs orders.
âKeep talking, eh? Alright.â You groaned once more when he applied more pressure to your gaping wound. âL.t, do you- do you remember when i told youâŚI wanted to retire early and - fuck - get to the countryside and get a big ass dog?â
He looked up at you briefly, glad you were talking but clearly wondering where you were going with this. You knew he hated when you spoke of the future as if you were going to die - which, right now, you were pretty sure it was really happening this time - but you couldnât help yourself. Of course he remembers that conversation, it was in the beginning of your secret-not-so-secret relationship. You had asked him what he would do if he wasnât a soldier, and he had given you a very cryptic and vague answer that resembled a lot like nothing. In turn, you told him your wishes half heartedly, as if thinking of living for 10 more years was a very distant dream.Â
The relationship between the 141âs Lieutenant and one of its Sargeants was a sort of urban legend going around. People knew it was happening, but didnât dare speak of it, and no one had ever really seen any proof of it, so, it was best to avoid prying into Ghostâs private matters as to not risk being at the receiving end of his annoyance, and, in turn, you both found solace in having something that only the two of you knew about. It never hindered your professionalism and it had been going on for a few good years now, so it became somewhat naturalized between the folks coexisting in the same space as you and Simon after a while. However, that never stopped the natural curiosity to flourish in a few people - namely, your comrades, who always knew there was something going on given the fact youâd literally look at your superior with hearts in your eyes - so you had to ignore Gaz and Soapâs expectant eyes on you as you spoke so tenderly, the intensity of witnessing the start of what seemed like a very intimate talk momentarily sharing space with the worry they were feeling over you.Â
â...Yes. I remember.â
He never forgets the things you say, even if you think itâs not important at the time. You hummed, ignoring the pain that came with it.
âBig dogs were never really my thing. I just-â A cough ripped out of you, and you didnât need to look to know there was blood in it. â I just thought it was the kind of thing youâd want. Big dogs fit you. It felt less scary to think about retiring once I added you in the equation.â
You were slurring your words and you knew it. As you regained your breath, you briefly saw a very wide-eyed and angry looking Price curse into his comm asking where the fuck was the goddamn chopper. Your codename being barked alongside the word âWIAâ to a poor fellow soldier on the other side of the line left you with a bad taste in your mouth. You hate how scared Ghost looked, your big, scary, stoic Ghost, and you canât help but feel selfish for leaving him, even if being shot was not your fault and wasnât really in your plans when you left the base that morning.
âStop talking like youâre fucking d-â
âWe could have done it, you know?â Your laugh is, once again, bitter, and youâre acutely aware of the tears streaming down your face. Death has never scared you, but now that you got a reason to stay, youâre terrified. âCouldâve gotten hitched somewhere nice. Canât really imagine you in a suit, though.â
The pain doesnât stop, but it gets duller as you feel your consciousness slipping away, and you never fought so much to stay awake in your entire life. Simon yells something to Soap among the lines of getting something from somewhere so he can continue trying to save you, but you donât register his words. His tone softens once his eyes are back on you.
âIâd wear a suit if you asked me to, sweetheart.â
âI know. I wouldnât ask, though.â
Not caring there are other people in the room, you smile at him, well aware it must be uncanny to see Ghost be so tender towards another person, but again, you were the lucky one who got to see it every time it was just the two of you, so you got used to it with time.
Your vision starts spinning more and more, and your eyes start to close the moment you hear the familiar, faint sound of a helicopter getting closer, Simonâs big hands suddenly on your face to try to keep you grounded, and he sounds even more exasperated than before. He calls your name - not your codename, for once.
âStay alive, do you hear me?! You gotta stay the fuck alive so i can take you to the bloody countryside and get bloody hitched-â
âYou askinâ me to marry yaâ in my deathbed, sir?â You manage to slur out, your smile growing despite the panic you donât have the energy to express settling in your bones, and Simonâs eyes widen even more behind the mask.
âYes, I am, so stay with me, thatâs a fucking order-â
You chuckle, closing your eyes as the frantic sounds around you all blur into a garbled mess. Faintly you feel your body being moved around, a strong wind on your blood and dirt caked hair, hear some more shouting, but then,
Silence.
ââââââââââ
Feels like the thousandth time you have woken up, and the feeling of coming in and out of consciousness is unbearable at best.
The first time - or the second, you donât remember - there was a strong light above you, but you had no energy to open your eyes, so it lasted a measly second before you were out again. Later, you heard an unfamiliar voice saying something about an induced coma for a few days for a better recovery. You wondered if they were talking about you (they probably were). This happens a few more times before you actually feel your consciousness coming back for good, and, before you open your eyes, the first thing you notice is how warm it is, and, if you could, youâd smile. The spring air smells good, and you think you catch a whiff of cleaning products while you inhale, suddenly aware of how empty your lungs felt. The third thing you notice is the weight on your hand, and once you open your eyes, you find a familiar set of skeleton gloved hands on top of your own. A few years back you had told him with a laugh the print was very 2000âs, and he had just brushed you off with a scowl, but youâve never been so glad to see the tacky thing. His thumb caresses your skin as he patiently waits for you to become more aware of your surroundings, and you instantly smile when you finally meet his gaze, which looks extremely relieved.
âHi.â Your throat feels parched, voice straining as if youâd swallowed a kilo of sand, but Simon thinks your voice never sounded so sweet to his ears.
âHi.âÂ
It hurts to move, but you do so anyway, slowly sitting up despite Simonâs protests just so you can see him more clearly and grasp his hand a little better. While you are busy cringing at the dull pain in your stomach from the stitches, he extends a glass of water for you, to which you grab and gulp down immediately, quenching your thirst and looking over at your partner with such gratitude an onlooker would have thought he was a literal godsend.Â
âHow bad is it?â Your voice still felt rough from disuse, but at least it sounded a bit more familiar to your ears.Â
âPretty bad.â He doesnât bother you with details; he knows you were never a fan of hearing about your wounds descriptively. âBut youâve always been tough.â
You flash him a grin that has him silently flabbergasted both with how beautiful you are and how quickly you seem to bounce back from a near fatal injury. Suddenly, you remember your last words before you blacked out, and your smile turns shy as you cast your gaze down to where your hands meet.
â...Did you mean it?âÂ
Simon has always been extremely observant and smart, he knows what you are talking about immediately, and you like to think he is smiling under the mask as he goes back to gingerly caressing the top of your smaller hand with his thumb.
âI did, sweetheart.â His voice is low, and every time he calls you a pet name it has your heart doing somersaults. âIâm sorry I don't have a ring yet and I don't know when we would have some time off to have a ceremony, but I want to marry yaâ. If youâll have me, that is.â
Feeling like your smile would grow so big it would rip your face, you beamed at him, acutely aware of how you must have been looking like a mess with a - hospital - bed head and tired eyes, but youâd hoped he could notice the hearts in your eyes as obviously as you felt them. Things always seemed to fall in place with Ghost; no need for extravagance or huge acts, and the fact that your marriage proposal was exactly that, made you fall even more in love with him. You watched lovingly as he raised your hand to press a mask covered kiss on the top of it, and shook your head, laughing gently.
âOf course iâll marry you, Simon.â
100 posts!
Ahhhh I can't believe I've made 100 posts already! It's been about a year here on tumblr and I'm so thankful for the positive interaction I've had!! Love you all so much!đ
â˘23 â˘18+ only â˘requests are open â˘kind of trash writing lolBlog Navigation
100 posts