#sergeant mactavish

neighbor!soap who comes home after a deployment to find out that someone new moved right next to his flat, cardboard boxes sat right next of your entrance.

neighbor!soap who sees you a thursday afternoon when he comes back from some groceries. you were minding your business, locking your front door as you were leaving, johnny slowly felt his cheeks hotten slightly. he couldn’t help but smirk as you were chatting a little bit, introducing youselves. you were truly a sweet treat.

you soon became neighbor!soap's obsession. he would smile everytime he'd smell your perfume in the hallway, even when he'd hear any noise coming from the other side of his wall. you noticed that you were running into him more and more as the time went by ; in front of the elevator, the letterboxes, and even in the small grocery store at the corner of the street.

neighbor!soap was slowly making you accustomed to his presence, chatting longer everytime you met again. he liked the way you would laugh when he said some stupid joke, or when you asked him about his life with big innocent eyes, feeling dizzy by your interest.

neighbor!soap decided it a random morning, you were definitely going to be his woman.

neighbor!soap who comes home late after a gym session, smiling to himself after noticing you door. however his smile quickly dropped when he got into his apartment, he stills, brows furrowing. tac tac tac, the sound of a piece of furniture colliding with the wall, probably your bed. then he hears it, the muffled moans.

neighbor!soap who clenches his jaw and try not to let the bitter feeling get to him. he can’t help but stay in the middle of his living room, listening to another man having his way with you.

That you start cooing over your precious baby for protecting you so fiercely, rather than over Johnny, doesn't help matters. Neither does the fact that the little fucker made him bleed, and he can already tell the bite is going to scar. He'd rather die than explain that one to Ghost...

That night, he ends up sleeping on the couch, because your toothy terror growls every time he gets near you. His ego is so bruised he almost considers giving you an ultimatum--him or the dog. But he knows who you'd choose, and the just the thought of you leaving him makes him break into a cold sweat, so he scraps that idea before it can even fully form.

He supposes he'll just have to stock up on your little shite's favorite treats and try to bribe his way back into its good graces.

(It works, eventually. And when Johnny's finally allowed back into the bedroom under the pup's watchful eye, he's careful to make sure it leaves before he rolls on top of you and starts rutting against you like the mutt he is).

ghost - something about you getting your nutrients and eating well does it for ghost every time. feeding you is a basic instinct when it comes to him. when he’s home you always have breakfast, lunch, dinner and snacks in between meals. sometimes when you give him a lil bit of push back he makes it very clear always it’s mandatory and a non-negotiable. “princess you know whatever your in the mood for i’ll make but there will be no back and forth about this your going to have something to eat.”

price - he’s a family man at heart and loves to do family man things. going to the market with his girl is one of the many. “up and at’em sweetheart” when you both are in the car by a decent time to make it to the market he looks over to you and taps your thigh twice “atta girl i appreciate you not giving me a hard time this morning.”

Masterlist

Turns out it’s Soap, who gives you a sheepish look when you open the door, dressed suspiciously in a sweatshirt with the hood drawn up. It’s ninety fucking degrees out, for Christ’s sake.

“Promise ye won’ laugh.” He says, pushing his way into your room without asking.

“Soap, it’s fucking midnight, you’re lucky I’m not kicking you right now.” You grumble, rubbing your eyes.

“It’s an emergency, I swear!”

“Fine. I won’t laugh.”

He pulls down his hood and you laugh. It bursts out despite your best effort to hold it in, clutching your stomach as he glares at you, “What did you do?”

He looks like he got into a fight with a lawnmower, his mohawk fucked up with jagged lines and uneven patches. There might even be a chunk of short hair missing from the back.

“Tried cleanin’ it up myself before we ship out tomorrow. Was gettin’ a little too long, ye know?” He scratches the back of his head, “Thought it couldn’ be tha’ hard, could it? Went a bit feral.”

“I’d say.” You can’t help the grin on your face, “It looks like a wild animal mauled you in your sleep.”

“Can ye fix it? Please?” He widens those damned blue eyes, giving you his best puppy-eyed look, “I’m beggin’ ye, hen.”

You balk, “What makes you think I can fix it?”

“You seem capable!” He waves his arms around wildly, producing a clippers from his hoodie pocket, “Ye’ve saved my arse so many times, I need ye to again. I canna face the others lookin’ like this.”

You sigh heavily.

“Please, lass. I’ll get on my knees if I have to.”

“Please don’t.” You mutter, despite the thought that that actually wouldn’t be so bad, “You owe me.”

You roll out your desk chair and pat the seat, taking the clippers from him when he sits, “My life.” He vows.

He sits the stillest you’ve ever seen him as you run the clippers over his head, fixing and shaping whatever’s left to salvage. The only thing moving are his fingers tapping against his knees, anxiously awaiting to see how badly he’d be made fun of by the rest of the 141. How long he’d have to hide himself in his room from the rest of the base.

If you had anything to do about it, which you do, he wouldn’t need to. Soap was as close to you as close could get before going intimate, and even then sometimes you wondered where his interest lay. Yours definitely would hurtle that thin little unspoken, unacted-upon barrier, if only you knew for sure it wouldn’t kill your friendship if he didn’t feel the same. All the same, you wouldn’t let him leave your room in his current state.

“Kinda dangerous lettin’ you this close te my neck.” He grins at you through the mirror on your desk.

“Should have thought about that before giving yourself a reverse mullet.” You quip, offering a small, concentrated smile.

“Still dead sexy though.”

“Maybe.” You tip your head in thought, “If you squint really hard. With the lights off.”

“Och. Tha’s brutal hen.”

“So was this haircut.”

You both laugh as you poke your tongue out between your teeth, running the the clippers slow and steady next to the long part of his ‘hawk.

After a bit more cleaning up with some scissors, you pat his shoulders and say, “Well, I think this is about as good as you’re gonna get, Soap.”

He turns his head from side to side, smoothing it back with his hand before grinning. Jumping up, he whirls and grasps your head in both hands, planting a big wet kiss on your forehead, “Ye saved my life, bonnie!”

You roll your eyes and turn away to hide the blush on your cheeks, “Can’t have people thinking you’re more of a lunatic than you are.”

“Seriously.” Soap’s hand closes around your wrist, tugging slightly until you turn to glance at him. There’s a soft look on his face, one that makes your heart flutter fondly in your chest. His blue eyes hold yours unwaveringly, and he steps forward to pull you into a warm hug, “Thank you.”

You hug him back, closing your eyes to soak in the heat of his body, his smell, the feel of his arms around you, the beat of his heart. He feels good there, like it’s where he’s supposed to be. When he steps away, he takes all the warmth right with him.

“An’ lass?” He gives you those puppy eyes again, “Ye won’ say anythin’ te the boys, will ye? This stays between us?”

“My lips are sealed. But I expect you’ll give me your dessert in our next rations.” You mumble, trying not to act like his hug had been more than worth getting woken up in the middle of the night.

“Already yers.” He grins, giving you one more kiss to your temple as he sweeps out the door.

You crawl back into bed, cheeks burning, wishing he’d say that about himself.

The next day, Soap beams when more than one person around base compliments his trim.

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From there he gets an enthusiastic blowie before getting to work pounding them a new hole against the graffiti covered wall. He always comes prepared with condoms and lube, and his partners are usually loose enough to take his fat cock with very little prep. After they’re done, the guy he just made scream on his cock gives him another phone number to add to his collection of never-contacted numbers.

Until Simon stumbles into a club he’s never been in before, pissed out of his mind, and notices Stripper!Soap, in all his hairy, muscular glory. He watches him dance, mesmerized, eyes glued to the thick bulge in Soap’s jock strap and his own cock at a half chub when he approaches Soap to try and lead him to the bathroom.

Simon looks like this to me

This is price

This is Johnny

This is Kyle

This is Kate