Hello, I Was Wondering If You Are Still Opened For Any Requests, Could  Please You Do An Inexperienced

i stole this from twitter

Couple's Trip

Summary: you and John take a trip for your anniversary and John has a very special question to ask

Pairing: John Price x gf!reader

Words:~ 2.0k

Warnings: fluff, tiny bit of angst(?), smut, p in v sex, unprotected sex(wrap it before you tap it folks :3), MDNI!!

A/N: so this has been sitting in my drafts for months and I finally finished it! Probably the longest fic I’ve written and I’m not sure how I feel about it(I feel like I’m better at writing fluff pieces rather than spicy ones maybe?)but let me know what yall think! I’m working on another Price fic and a Soap fic so stay tuned! :)

A/N: As always likes, reblogs, comments, and feedback of all types are welcome and my inbox is always open! Hope you guys enjoy!!

***beware of typos lol

Your mind wandered as you zipped your suitcase shut. John announced you were taking a trip for your anniversary and refused to tell you where. "You'll find out when we get there love," he said with a laugh after you pestered him to tell you. You walked downstairs and set your suitcase by the front door.

Through no fault of his own John wasn't always around for your anniversary. He always tried his best to to have his leave coincide but it didn't always happen. Usually you just had a nice dinner at home or John would surprise you with flowers; both of which you enjoyed. Needless to say you were shocked but excited when John told you he had a few weeks leave and had something big planned.

"Hey hon, remember to pack your toothbrush this time," you said, doublechecking to make sure you had everything. "You forget it every time," you mused. "I'm not going to forget my toothbrush dove. And I don't forget it every time," Price argued; he checked his suitcase and realized he forgot. He went to the bathroom and grabbed his toothbrush to pack it away without telling you.

"Are you ready love?" Price asked. "I want to get going," You noticed your boyfriend seemed to be acting weird. He was very fidgety and it wasn't like him at all.

"You okay?" You asked. "You seem anxious to get going,"

"Yeah I'm fine love I just want to get there before dark," Price replied, taking the luggage outside. He loaded the suitcases into the back of the car and slipped his hand in his pocket. His fingers brushed against the velvet box resting in his pocket. "Well if we want to get there before dark we should get going," you called out and shut the door behind you, locking up the house.

You noticed the scenery started to change from hilly landscapes to dense woods. You started to get excited about what was at the end of your little road trip. The car turned on to a cobblestone stone driveway that led to a beautiful cabin overlooking a private lake surrounded by trees. "Oh John this is beautiful!" You said, looking out the window. "How did you know about this?" You asked. "An old mate of mine offered to let us use it for the week," he smiled watching you try and take it all in.

"This whole place is for us?" You asked, wondering if you could possibly see everything in just a few days. Price squeezed your thigh. "Just us," he said, parking the car. "Here love," Price stated. He fished in his pocket pulling out a set of keys. "Here's the keys to the cabin. Why don't you go take a look around, while I unload the car" he suggested.

You smiled and took the keys from him walking up to the front steps. You unlocked the front door and stepped inside. The living room was decorated in a way you would expect a cabin to be decorated. A large sofa facing a tv mounted on the wall, a large red rug in the middle of the floor, an end table with a lamp beside the couch, a tv stand, large fireplace, and a chandelier made from antlers adorned the living room. There was also a full kitchen to your right when you walked in.

You made your way to the stairs and found the master bedroom. A king size bed was the centerpiece of the room with a wool blanket draped over the end. The curtains were drawn and a soft light emanated from a lamp sitting on a bedside table.

Your footsteps were hushed by the soft carpet as you walked to the bathroom. The master bathroom was beautifully decorated in finished wood and white accents with a big claw foot tub; definitely big enough for both you and John. A window that faced the lake and woods let in a nice breeze and you couldn't help smiling, the fact it was yours for a few days finally setting in.

You came down the stairs just as John set down the last of your luggage. "So? What do you think?" Price asked, smiling as you wrapped your arms around him. "It's perfect John!” you smiled. "It's so beautiful," you planted a kiss on his lips.

Over the next few days the ring Price carried around burned a hole in his pocket. He tried finding the right time to ask you but everytime he tried he got nervous. He was the Captain of the most elite special forces team in the world and he couldn't even ask you to marry him. He sat at the edge of the dock, his fishing pole in his hands. He looked at the water waiting for a fish to bite and thinking about how much he wanted to spend the rest of his life with you. If only I could just ask her. With a frustrated sigh, he got up to stretch his legs still holding the fishing pole.

These few days seemed like a dream to you. Getting to spend this time with John was something you didn't always get to have. You noticed your boyfriend's behavior was somewhat off. He was anxious and fidgety when he's normally the calm and self-assured one in the relationship. You saw him sitting at the dock fishing and you smiled to yourself. His behavior may have changed but him fishing certainly hadn't.

You opened the front door and started walking down the cobblestone path the sweet air warming your skin. You saw little firefly's glowing in the garden flying around. "Have you caught anything yet?" You asked, siting down in a lawn chair with him standing holding his fishing pole. John glanced over and saw you wearing one of his army green t shirts and a pair of sleep shorts; he felt his heart skip a beat and his cock swell embarassingly hard despite the spirited romp in the sheets a mere few hours prior. For some strange reason, it made his thoughts drift back to the little box still tucked away in his pocket; he carried it with him everywhere since they got here. He still couldn’t believe he had trouble asking you a simple four-worded question. It was almost laughable that something so simple had the Captain racked with anxiety. The man who was feared just as much as he was respected in the field. What if you said no? What if you didn’t actually love him and this was the push you needed to leave him? He grimaced as his thoughts got more and more out of control.

“No I think I missed most of them,” he muttered and turned his attention back to the water. You furrowed your eyebrows; something was up with your boyfriend. Not much fazed the 6’2” Brit so to see him so lost in thought worried you. You got to your feet and wrapped your arms around your lover; your hands dipped underneath the shirt he was wearing and felt the dusting of wiry chest hair. You ran your fingers down the strong expanse of his chest and abdomen following the happy trail that disappears into his waistband. “What’s wrong hon?” You asked. “Nothing is wrong I’m fine love,” He grumbled. “You’ve been acting strange for the past few days and that isn’t like you,” You persisted. "I want to know what’s bothering you. You know you can tell me anything right?” You reassured him. John shifted his attention from the still water to you and tried to think of what to say.

“Do you…still love me?” He asked with uncertainty. “Would I have let you put me in those positions if I didn’t?” You teased, referencing the previous bedroom escapades. Seeing his face didn’t change, you realized he was serious. “Of course I do. Why would you think I don’t?” You asked. “Well…sometimes I can’t help but think you’ll wake up one day and come to your senses and leave me for someone who actually deserves you,” He sighed. It felt foreign to him to talk about his feelings but you made him feel safe enough that he could. You always brought out the best of him and it was one of the many reasons he wanted to marry you. “John Price, I am never going to leave you,” You told him, placing your hands on his muttonchops, framing his face. You hated it when he talked so badly about himself. “I love you so much and you deserve everything,” You said, gazing up at him. “Even if I am a grumpy old man?” He asked. “Yes even though you’re a grumpy old man,” you teased. “Hey! Easy now,” He said in mock annoyance. You placed your lips on his, capturing him in a heated kiss. You felt him kiss you back and the tension from his shoulders melted away. He groaned and pressed your bodies together, reaching down to grab a handful of your ass. He chuckled quietly when you whined as he pulled away. “In that case, there’s something I need to ask you,” He slipped his hand into his pocket while dropping down onto one knee. It’s now or never Price. He told himself. Your eyes went wide and filled with tears as you realized what was happening. “Y/N, will you marry me?” He asked, hoping, no silently begging, for you to say yes. “Yes! Yes I’ll marry you John Price,” you cried.

******

“FUCK!” You screamed. The headboard practically hit the wall with each harsh thrust from John. The room was filled with obscene yet erotic sound of panting and skin slapping against skin. “Fuck you’re taking me so well love,” John panted out, taking a glance down to where your cunt practically swallowed his cock. The sight drove him mad and he let out sounds he didn’t know he had in him. Those sounds he was making, the breathy groans and whimpers almost made you come then and there. “Fuck John!” You panted, feeling yourself get closer with every snap of John’s hips that hit perfectly inside you. John could feel you squeezing him like a vice and he knew you were close to coming. He grabbed the head board and pushed your legs to your chest to better plow into you and get as deep as he could into your pulsing cunt. “That’s it love,” He breathed out, his pace unrelenting. “Come for me love, come for me,”. John’s voice sounded strained as he focused on making you come before he did. You keened as you felt yourself go over the edge, coming on John’s cock. You squeezed him so tightly he swore he saw stars and came deep inside you, thick ropes of white staining the inside of your cunt. John rested his forehead against yours, strands of his hair sticking to the sweaty skin. You felt the sheer sheen of perspiration that had covered your own body begin to dry and cool off the longer the two of you stayed in each other’s embrace. "You okay love?” He asked, still out of breath as you both waited for your heart rates to slow. “More than okay,” you smiled lazily. Price gingerly pulled out his softened cock and walked to the bathroom, you admiring his bare ass as he walked away. John used a warm wash cloth to gently clean you up before grabbing a celebratory cigar and lighting it. You watched and admired his naked body as he poured himself a glass of scotch from the decanter sitting on the small table in the room before sliding back into bed with you.

You and John lay slightly tangled in the sheets with your head resting on his chest and his arm around you, relishing in that wonderful, hazy post sex daze. You couldn’t help but stare at the ring on your finger and smile; John was your fiancée and you could hardly believe it. “Careful now or I’ll think you love the ring more than me,” John’s deep baritone voice reverberating in his chest. “Well the ring is pretty great. And all I have is an old man,” you teased, looking up at him knowing he just proved himself to be anything but an old man. Your remark earned you a playful pinch on your ass. You squealed and laughed, swatting his chest playfully.

“Don’t worry Mr. Price I only have eyes for you my love,” You said, planting a kiss on his lips. "I love you,"

“I love you too soon-to-be Mrs. Price,”

Fourth Wing Masterlist

Updated: 4-22-25

*=requested

💕=Fluff

😈=smut

❤️‍🩹=angst

Garrick Tavis Masterlist

Liam Mairi Masterlist -Coming soon!

Ridoc Gamlyn Masterlist -Coming soon!

Bodhi Durran Masterlist -Coming soon!

Aaric Graycastle/Cam Tauri Masterlist

Sawyer Henrick Masterlist -Coming soon!

Brennen Sorrengail Masterlist -Coming soon!

Dain Aetos Masterlist

from the valentine's asks, 14 + 43 🤩

I love doing these!

14. Favorite Candle Scent

Honestly anything to do with amber! I really love cozy scents!

43. Favorite ABBA Song

Honestly it's a tie between Honey Honey and Mamma Mia

Thanks so much for the ask!!

Capi this was so good💕💕

i walk the line.

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 hadn’t expected was the question to come up at such an inopportune time. 

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

It’s cold.

No, scratch that. It’s 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.

You’re 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. It’s your codename, meaning, it’s your teammates voices. But why do they sound so agitated? Next, you feel pain. Quickly rising, scorching hot pain in your abdomen. 

Oh, that’s right. You were shot.

A scream echoes out wherever you are and only later you’d recognize it as your own, in the same moment you recognize Ghost’s own booming voice frantically calling out for you, and the heavy weight of Soap’s large hands holding you down so you wouldn’t 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 couldn’t 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 didn’t 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.

“Hey! Talk to me, don’t you dare close your eyes!”

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. 

It was pretty shitty you were going to die in an equally shitty safehouse, but that’s the life you chose. So, against your better judgment, you chuckle lowly and decide to follow your superior’s orders.

“Keep talking, eh? Alright.” You groaned once more when he applied more pressure to your gaping wound. “L.t, do you- do you remember when i told you…I wanted to retire early and - fuck - get to the countryside and get a big ass dog?”

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 couldn’t 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 wasn’t 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. 

The relationship between the 141’s Lieutenant and one of its Sargeants was a sort of urban legend going around. People knew it was happening, but didn’t dare speak of it, and no one had ever really seen any proof of it, so, it was best to avoid prying into Ghost’s 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 you’d literally look at your superior with hearts in your eyes - so you had to ignore Gaz and Soap’s 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. 

“...Yes. I remember.”

He never forgets the things you say, even if you think it’s not important at the time. You hummed, ignoring the pain that came with it.

“Big dogs were never really my thing. I just-” A cough ripped out of you, and you didn’t need to look to know there was blood in it. “ I just thought it was the kind of thing you’d want. Big dogs fit you. It felt less scary to think about retiring once I added you in the equation.”

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 “WIA” 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 can’t help but feel selfish for leaving him, even if being shot was not your fault and wasn’t really in your plans when you left the base that morning.

“Stop talking like you’re fucking d-”

“We could have done it, you know?” Your laugh is, once again, bitter, and you’re acutely aware of the tears streaming down your face. Death has never scared you, but now that you got a reason to stay, you’re terrified. “Could’ve gotten hitched somewhere nice. Can’t really imagine you in a suit, though.”

The pain doesn’t 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 don’t register his words. His tone softens once his eyes are back on you.

“I’d wear a suit if you asked me to, sweetheart.”

“I know. I wouldn’t ask, though.”

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, Simon’s 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.

“Stay alive, do you hear me?! You gotta stay the fuck alive so i can take you to the bloody countryside and get bloody hitched-”

“You askin’ me to marry ya’ in my deathbed, sir?” You manage to slur out, your smile growing despite the panic you don’t have the energy to express settling in your bones, and Simon’s eyes widen even more behind the mask.

“Yes, I am, so stay with me, that’s a fucking order-”

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.

——————————

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 don’t 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, you’d 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 2000’s, and he had just brushed you off with a scowl, but you’ve 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.

“Hi.” Your throat feels parched, voice straining as if you’d swallowed a kilo of sand, but Simon thinks your voice never sounded so sweet to his ears.

“Hi.” 

It hurts to move, but you do so anyway, slowly sitting up despite Simon’s 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. 

“How bad is it?” Your voice still felt rough from disuse, but at least it sounded a bit more familiar to your ears. 

“Pretty bad.” He doesn’t bother you with details; he knows you were never a fan of hearing about your wounds descriptively. “But you’ve always been tough.”

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.

“...Did you mean it?” 

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.

“I did, sweetheart.” His voice is low, and every time he calls you a pet name it has your heart doing somersaults. “I’m 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 ya’. If you’ll have me, that is.”

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 you’d 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.

“Of course i’ll marry you, Simon.”

Count on Me

Pairing: Soap x military gf!reader

Summary: soap gets in trouble defending you

Word Count: 1.6k

Warnings: fluff, angst, mild violence, strong language, brief mention of death, unwanted touching, sexual harassment(just to be safe)

A/n: another fic for one of our favorite 141 boys! Because of the warnings I highly suggest if any of this makes you uncomfortable please don't read it! That being said I hope whoever does read it enjoys it! As always reblogs, comments, and likes are appreciated! :)

Soap never really thought about the future anymore. When you work a job like he does, it's counterproductive and sometimes even dangerous to think of a future. When Soap was a younger lad he always thought he'd have a lass and a bairn or two of his own but ever since joining the military he pushed it to the back of his mind. That was until he met you. Price and Laswell recruited you to help with a mission and you ended up earning a spot alongside the rest of the 141.

Soap had always been quite flirtatious by nature but you were different. While yes he did still flirt with you, he caught himself doing the one thing he tried so hard to avoid. He caught himself seeking you out during meals or wanting to spar with you during training. He caught himself staring at you during meetings or rec time. He caught himself thinking about a future with you; little lads(or lasses) running around getting under your feet. He caught himself falling in love. At first it terrified him realizing he loved you; loving people in his line of work put a target on their back. But seeing how badass you were but also one of the kindest people he knew, he couldn't help himself.

He found out you felt the same when you two were stuck in a safe house in no where Siberia. You were given dodgy intel and it ended with you being shot. Soap had never felt his heart sink so fast; he felt like it dropped to his feet. "Soap in case I don't make it out... I have to tell you something," you said, struggling to get the words out. You could feel the life leaving with every pump of blood; it was a strange sensation to feel yourself dying.

"Dinnae talk like tha' lass," he said, holding a cloth to the hole in your stomach. "You can tell me when we make it out of here,". Your hand grasped his and made him look at you. "I love you Soap," you said. "I tried really hard not too; I tried keeping it professional but...I love you," the words were harder to speak with each passing minute. For a moment Soap's heart felt like it was gonna burst but he still had to get you out alive. Soap had managed to stop the bleeding and a heli had come for exfil courtesy of Price. You ended up making a full recovery in the medical wing.

Ever since then you and Soap had agreed to keep your relationship a secret from the rest of the team. Midnight rendezvous in your rooms, sneaking glances and featherlight touches made Soap feel like a schoolboy again messing around with the popular girl. Of course Price had his suspicions right away; he always kept a close watch over his team and saw how you two treated each other after the mission in Siberia. He didn't say anything though because it didn't affect your performance. Ghost found out after Price when you and Soap were a little drunk after a night out and were a little too loud in the shower. After that you both agreed to be more careful.

It was because of this that men still hit on you. It was nothing new to be hit on especially in the military; you usually just brushed them off politely and then laugh when you saw Soap staring daggers at the poor man who hit on you. It usually ended with you not being able to walk; not that you minded in the slightest. But this time was different.

Because of Price's reluctant agreement a team had been brought in to assist with an extraction. During the whole mission the squad's lieutenant, Yates, had been making sexual comments about you; you were able to brush them off like you always do because this was nothing you hadn't heard before. Being a woman in the military you weren't a stranger to inappropriate comments from men. But you could tell it was bothering Soap.

The mission was a success; you were able to get your target out without it being a disaster. You were hanging around base with Soap, Gaz, and Ghost after you all got back. Price had retreated back to his office to work on paperwork and the squad that was brought in was with you three in the rec room. "So y/l/n what about you?" Yates asked. They had been talking about their weekend escapades with beautiful women while being especially crude. "Who here would you let do you?" He asked, a smirk on his face. "Excuse me?" You asked, hoping you heard him wrong.

You could feel Soap tense beside you, gripping the neck of his beer bottle so tightly you were surprised it didn't shatter. Ghost laid a hand on Soap's shoulder trying to keep him from doing anything stupid. "Who would you let do you?" The lieutenant repeated himself. "Or maybe you already let them," he said still with a nasty smirk. You finished the last of your beer before standing up. "I think I'm going to go finish my own paperwork," You said, bidding goodbye to your teammates. "Oh come on don't be a bitch just answer the question," He said standing up and blocking your path. "Move. Now." You said, flatly.

"Come on it's just a simple question," he said, stepping closer. "Do you let them take turns?" He asked. "Just tell me who leaves you the most sore afterward?" He grabbed your ass and pulled you against his chest. Before you could break his hand for touching you, Soap pushed between you two and punched the lieutenant across the face. "You son of a bitch!" Soap shouted. The two tumbled and fell with Soap on top. The rec hall erupted in shouts some from Gaz and Ghost and some from the other squad. Soap was able to get a few more punches in before Gaz and Ghost could pull him off "Johnny what the fuck?!" Ghost shouted.

Yates lied on the ground, holding his face. Blood poured from his broken nose and busted mouth. "What the fuck is wrong with you?" Yates groaned. You stood there stunned and looked over at Soap who Ghost was still trying to calm down. "Go take a fucking walk Johnny," Ghost growled. Soap looked over at you and turned on his heel stalking off. "You're finished Sergeant you hear me? You're fucking finished!" Yates screamed at Soap's retreating back. "Shut the fuck up Yates," Ghost said, his voice a low growl as he looked at the injured lieutenant. The lieutenant got up and left, probably to find Price's office. You didn't know what to say so you turned to leave when Ghost grabbed your wrist. "He just risked his entire career to defend you. Give him some time to cool off but you need to talk to him," Ghost said, his voice the usual grumble. You nodded, glanced briefly at the blood on the floor, and left for your room.

Soap knocked on Price's door waiting for Price to tell him to come in. The door opened and Yates stepped out. His face purple and bruised, his nose still crooked with cotton stuffed in his nostrils to stop the bleeding. His mouth was swollen with dried blood caked on it. Soap felt a sick sort of satisfaction knowing he did that. Ghost followed Yates and gave him a reassuring nod. Yates just glared at him when Price called him in. "Take a seat," Price said from behind his desk.

Soap closed the door and made his way to one of the chairs facing Price's desk. "His captain is calling for your discharge," Price said. "He's not happy that his lieutenant has a busted face," he added. "You didn't hear what he said about her," Soap said, his fists clenching at the memory. "I know exactly what he said. Ghost told me," said Price. "The fact is you assaulted a superior officer. You're lucky you're not being court martialed," Price said, looking at Soap.

"Yates is a womanizing bastard. I'd do it again discharge or not," Soap said. "I know you would," Price couldn't help but chuckle. "Fortunately for you that won't be a problem. His captain is as much of a cunt as he is but we worked it out. You'll be suspended for six weeks," Price said. "And for what it's worth I would've done the same to the bloody bastard," Price added, before he dismissed Soap.

You figured Soap would've had enough time to have his talk with Price so you headed towards his room. You passed by the rec room to see Yates mopping his blood off the floor; you could already hear Price telling him to "clean his bloody floor". You made it to Soap's room and rapped on the door. "It's open," Soap said. You walked in and saw Soap lounging on his bed wearing one of those tight muscle shirts that drove you crazy.

"So? How bad is it?" You said, wetting a washcloth and coming to sit next to him. You grabbed his hands and started dabbing the warm cloth over his knuckles. "Six week suspension," he said, focusing on the feeling of you cleaning off his hands. "Really?" You asked surprised. "How'd you manage that?" You said, getting up to rinse of the washcloth. "Price vouched for me. Without him I could've gotten into some real trouble," he replied, looking at you clean off his other hand.

"You know I appreciate you doing that but you shouldn't have," you said, tossing the cloth into his hamper. "I couldn't let him say those things about you Bonnie," he said, looking at you. "It wasn't right," Soap added. "You could've lost your job Johnny. I would never want you to do that for me," you shook your head. Soap grabbed your hand and stroked the back of it with his thumb. "I love you hen and I'll always defend you," he said. "I love you too Johnny," You said, giving him a kiss. Soap wanted to make sure you knew you could always count on him.



Yes anytime🥺

REBLOG IF ITS OKAY TO TALK TO YOU.

Please.

This was so good! I'm honestly in love with this story🥺❤️❤️

Chapter 4: Back to Blighty

Series Masterlist | Read on AO3

*Please do not plagiarise, copy, or repost anywhere else.

Pairing: 40s!Bucky x Autistic!Reader

*18+ only. Minors DNI. If you follow/reblog, please have your age (or an indicator of your age) in your bio.

Summary: Your time at the front has come to an end, and you return to London with the rest of the SSR team. While reuiniting with old friends, you make some new ones too, and can finally have some quality time with Bucky.

Warnings: Fluff, kissing, making out, suggestive stuff, talk about the war and invasions, found family, some cheesy musical numbers (yes, really). No smut in this chapter but it's coming soon, don't you worry!

Author Notes:

I don't know what I think of this chapter. Depression's been kicking my ass lately so I'm kind of doubting everything right now.

The character Thea is coded as having ADHD. Her traits are based off one of my best friends whom I adore (when we hang out we're a neurodivergent powerhouse).

As I’ve been writing I’ve also fallen in love with Thea as a character. Maybe I should do a spin-off about her. Click to read her bio.

The Windmill Theatre was a famous variety theatre that became best known for its shows involving nude models in still tableaus.

Click for full Author Notes

DISCLAIMER: The reader’s autistic traits are predominantly based on my own, but every autistic person is different and will display different traits in different ways.

Your friend, Thea, was a dancer. Or at least, a former dancer. The toast of the Folies Bergère and the London Criterion in the 1920s, she had since turned her hand to choreography and now directed shows at the Windmill Theatre.

Yes, that Windmill Theatre.

Your peculiarities balanced each other out. She could be forgetful, you remembered everything. She was disorganised, you were the very much the opposite. She was always late, your time management was impeccable. Sometimes it was carnage, but most of the time you were the perfect pair, and she was one of the best people you had ever met.

Right now you were using one of the public phones at the port, trying to liaise with Thea about collecting your key. She had been looking after your flat since you had been away, and you were trying to sort a good time to meet her.

So far, you were struggling.

"Is that tapdancing going on in the background?" You winced.

"Yes love, sorry. I'll get her to stop." You heard Thea move away from the mouthpiece and call out. "Sweetie, would you stop for a moment please? My poor friend can't hear me."

That wasn't strictly true, but it was easier to understand than 'my friend is sensitive to noise and can't focus on my voice while you're dancing and will probably cry if you don't stop.'

The tapping ceased, much to your relief.

"Sorry darling, what was I saying?"

"About my key. Our train gets in at five.”

"Yes! I gave Joey your key."

"Why does Joey have my key?"

"I'm in rehearsals when you arrive in London."

“I could meet you at the theatre?”

“It’s the sitzprobe for the Christmas show sweetie, I’ll be backstage.”

"Fair point! So where am I meeting Joey?"

"He's watching the rehearsals, so you can meet him in the auditorium. I'll let them know you're coming."

Thea's fiancé, Joey, was a lovely man. A former RAF pilot who had lost his right arm in action, he and Thea had met one night after a show at The Windmill and had been inseparable ever since.

It had been wonderful to see her so happy, and with a man who thought the world of her. Now, you couldn’t wait to introduce her to Bucky.

"Can I bring a friend?" You asked tentatively.

"Of course you can, sweetie!" And you could hear she was beaming on the other end of the phone. “Wait, a friend? Is this a pal, or did you find a nice gentleman out in Italy?”

“You’ll have to wait and see!” You giggled, wanting to tell her everything but knowing that you could be easily overheard in your current location. You also knew that you had only paid for a limited amount of time on the phone, and as soon as you started enthusing, you wouldn’t stop.

***

You met Bucky in the corridor of the train when you were returning from the lavatories. You had been separated when disembarking the boat, which had made you quite anxious, so finding him again was a great relief.

Then again, travelling in general had always been incredibly stressful for you, the noise, the queues, all the people. You wished that you could magic yourself to new locations without the stresses and strains.

“Hello, sarge!” You gasped, trying to hide how relieved you were to see him.

"Lieutenant, I need your services." He smirked, pulling you in and enveloping you in his arms. You hugged him back, realising just how exhausted you were in that moment.

“I was wondering where you’d got to.” You said softly. “We were all ordered onto the train after collecting our bags.”

“We had extra checks on our papers.” Bucky told you, rolling his eyes. “Took ages. Anyway, now that I’ve found you, can I have a kiss?”

“Only if you say please.” You teased. Normally you didn’t know how to joke with people, it was hard to know whether the joke would land or not. But with Bucky it felt different, you could read him because he was honest, and he was good at sensing what you needed, or asking if he was unsure.

Bucky straightened his back and raised one eyebrow. “Pretty please. With a ribbon on top.”

You nodded, grinning broadly, before pursing your lips to meet his as he pulled you closer. He kissed you desperately, hungrily, not caring who might see.

“I have a compartment to myself.” You told him. “I was sharing with an old fart who smelled of peppermints, but luckily he had his eyes closed the whole time so I didn’t have to speak to him. But now I’m by myself. Come and join me!”

Your ramble made Bucky giggle, before he rested his nose against yours. “Hmm… I think a bit of canoodling will definitely make the journey go faster.” He said with mock seriousness. “Good idea, lieutenant.”

For the remainder of your journey to St Pancras, you sat on Bucky’s lap in your compartment, curtains drawn, in each other’s arms.

“I need to say something.” Bucky murmured as he snuggled his head into your neck.

“That sounds ominous!” You didn’t like when people said things like this, even if they ended up telling you something nice. I have something to tell you, we need to talk… those words never failed to fill you with anxiety. “I hope it’s not something bad?”

“Oh no, it’s good! I promise!” He looked at your mouth for a moment before he spoke. “When I got captured, I never expected to survive. Then, when Steve rescued me by some miracle, all I wanted was to find some peace. I’m just so tired and battered that I didn’t think I was capable of… I never expected to…” He broke off, thinking about what he was going to say next. “I never expected to meet someone. I didn’t even think I was ready. But I feel safe with you. You don’t expect me to be anything, you don’t ask me to hide anything. I don’t have to pretend when I’m with you. Back in Brooklyn I was expected to put on an act, always be the charmer, always be the one in control, be the protector. But around you I can be vulnerable. Ah jeez, am I making any sense?”

You nodded, trying to stop yourself from crying with joy at his words.

“And I hope you feel as though you can be yourself around me, and be vulnerable if you have to. Because I wouldn’t have you any other way.” He continued, before kissing your nose.

You didn’t say anything in response, you didn’t know how to put your feelings into words at that moment. Instead, you nodded, letting the emotion wash over you and the joyful tears fall. Gently, you covered his face with kisses, before nuzzling your face into his neck, pulling him close.

***

Suitcase in one hand, Bucky’s hand in the other, you led your handsome sergeant down the steps of the Windmill Theatre. As he saw the posters by the door, he gently tugged your hand and whispered in your ear.

“Wait, is this…?”

“Yes.”

“This is…”

“Yes.”

“The Windmill?”

“Yes, the Windmill!”

“Oh wow.”

“But you won’t see anything of that nature today, Bucky. The girls wear robes during rehearsals.”

You were merely stating a fact, but Bucky snorted with laughter.

“Baby, I only have eyes for you!” He laughed. “But I appreciate the heads up.”

“There’s no need to be ashamed of wanting to look at a naked woman Bucky. Well, unless you’re a Peeping Tom, then it’s wrong. But these girls get paid and want to do it here. The real shows are stunning, they look like artworks.” You had gotten used to rambling in front of Bucky, because you knew it was safe to do so. He never told you to stop or shrink yourself. He said he found it endearing and sweet.

He put his arm around you and kissed your ear, before whispering into it, speaking slowly so that you could hear through your earplugs.

“I bet you look like an artwork too.”

You could feel your face go hot. Bucky must have noticed your shy grin, because he giggled and kissed you again.

“Come on, lieutenant, let’s get your key and get you home.”

The auditorium was less crowded than you’d anticipated, but you still wore your earplugs, just to be safe. The orchestra were already in their seats, warming up, but the stage was empty. Your heart leapt in your chest as you thought of Thea backstage, giving a pep talk to the dancers, buzzing with energy.

You couldn’t wait to give her a hug.

In one of the auditorium seats you spotted Joey, dressed in his uniform and medals, empty sleeve pinned neatly. As soon as he spotted you and Bucky approaching, he grinned and waved.

“Joey!” You waved at him.

"Well hello there!" Joey greeted you in a loud whisper, his face beaming. You couldn't help but smile too as he pulled you into a hug. “It’s good to see you.” He said. “Thea’s going to explode with happiness!” He looked at Bucky then. “And is this your friend? Thea told me all about it. Good to meet you, chap!”

Your heart started to pound as Joey extended his hand for Bucky to shake.

“I didn’t… I just mentioned I was bringing someone!” You explained, flustered, but Bucky was smiling.

“Call me Bucky. It’s nice to meet you too.” He said, shaking Joey’s hand, before slipping his arm around your waist.

Joey handed you your key, counting the keys on the loop first to make sure all were accounted for.

“Thea told me to tell you, that she won’t be able to get away to say hello, but that I’m to give you a hug from her, which I already have done, and she will see you at The Fighting Cocks tomorrow. She said to bring friends.”

The Fighting Cocks was your local. You liked it there, the pub landlady was lovely, the barmaids knew you, and it had a nice, quiet atmosphere. But ‘bring friends’ – that was typical Thea. You had read Carl Jung’s theory about Introverts and Extroverts, and she was definitely in the latter category.

You liked making friends, it was just that too many people in one go could be a little overwhelming.

“Will you stay for a song?” Joey asked. “They’re really rather good.”

“We’ll stay for a song, then I think we best get going.” You looked at Bucky, who nodded in agreement. “As for the pub… maybe we could invite Captain Rogers?” You asked him tentatively. Most of your other friends lived outside of London, and the only real pal you had made out in Italy was Fraser, and he was still out at the base. You weren’t sure whether Peggy would join if you asked her. Sometimes it was physically painful asking somebody to spend time with you, only to be told ‘oh I’d love to but I’m just so busy’. That always meant ‘no’.

“I’ll ask the guys from the 107th too. They’d enjoy experiencing an old English pub I think.” Bucky smiled, although from his eyes you could see that the thought was making him feel tired.

As Joey smiled and beckoned you both to get a better view of the stage, you pulled Bucky close and whispered, “If the pub gets too intense tomorrow, just say ‘custard creams’ to me and we’ll leave.”

Bucky giggled, “What are custard creams?”

“They’re vanilla flavoured biscuits, although you can’t often get them these days with rationing. I thought it would make a good code word.”

“Custard creams.” Bucky grinned. “I’ll remember.” He stopped and looked at you as you found some places in the aisle. “Thank you.”

“For what?”

“I get tired quite easily these days. It’s good to know I have an out tomorrow if I want to go home.”

“My friend Judith and I used to do something similar at university parties. Around 1 o’clock in the morning people either get very sleepy or very loud, and it stops being fun. So we would say ‘I have to be up for the milkman tomorrow’ and that would be our code to leave.”

“Why the milkman? Doesn’t the milkman just leave the bottles outside the door?”

You shrugged. “People would be too drunk to apply any logic to the statement.”

Bucky giggled again. “Well, ’custard creams’ is much easier to remember.” He said fondly.

Just then, the orchestra started, and the singer strutted on stage. He started a bright, energetic song. As he approached the first chorus, a line of dancers started to appear.

The rhythm of the steps, the piano, the singing… It was all so wonderful, the way it was affecting your body and making you want to move.

God, you had missed music. You had missed it so much.

You started to sway to the music, your hands up and waving in a manner you had seen stage performers do. Joey, laughing, joined you.

Bucky just wrapped his arms around your waist and swayed with you. His body was relaxing against yours, and although you couldn’t see his face, you knew that he was smiling.

***

As Bucky walked you to your door, you threw your arms around his neck and kissed his cheek. The thought of asking him to go to bed with you had been on your mind since your kiss in the woods. In fact, you had been thinking about it constantly.

But just asking him ‘would you like to come in and sleep with me’ just wasn’t the way things were done.

“Do you want to come in for tea?” You asked instead. “Thea said that my neighbour Mrs Penlington dropped round some things yesterday, so there’s not a lot but we can…”

“I have to report to the SSR accommodation unfortunately.” Bucky said with a furrowed brow. He took you in his arms gently. “Tell you what, let’s meet tomorrow, before the pub thing with your friend. We can go for a walk in the park and have lunch? Then I’ll tell the guys to meet us at the pub.”

“Yeah, yeah that sounds good.” You said, trying to hide your disappointment as he kissed you.

After Bucky left, you sat pondering over his words.

Safely in your flat, unpacking your things, refamiliarizing yourself with the old place, you replayed the interaction in your head.

Bucky was honest with you, always had been, so if he genuinely didn’t want to come in, he would have said so, but sometimes people used excuses to soften the blow.

He saw you to your door, that was something. He came with you to the Windmill. He had time to do that, so why didn’t he want to come in?

And you had spent half the train journey from Dover petting and kissing, and he had told you how much he cared about you, confessing his feelings.

Perhaps you were overthinking it all, but when you had mostly encountered dishonesty from people and had gotten used to deciphering their words like a tangled web, it was hard to tell your brain to work differently.

Maybe he was just tired. He’s been through a lot. He’s exhausted. It’s understandable that he’d want some alone time. You want alone time, you always need it after work.

But I’m here. All his. Why didn’t he take the chance?

Maybe he was just tired.

***

“This stuff’s good!” Bucky said, digging into the cottage pie in front of him.

The two of you had met for a walk in Regent’s Park, before finding a spot to have lunch. The restaurant was nice and quiet, just how you liked it, but your mind was still racing.

“See, English food isn’t all bad!” You joked, although you could hear the nerves in your voice. You were still pondering on the evening before, and were struggling to hide how tense you were.

Bucky finished his mouthful, and gestured to you with his fork. “What’s troubling you? Tell me. You kept staring into space when we were walking in the park.”

Here it was. You liked that your relationship with Bucky was based on honesty, but that didn’t make it any easier to put your feelings into words.

“I suppose I was a little sad when you didn’t want to come in yesterday. After the train journey and what you said about me maybe looking like an artwork I thought…” You trailed off, suddenly feeling bad. “I’m sorry. I guess I get a little confused when things aren’t crystal clear.”

Bucky swirled the dregs around his teacup. When he spoke his voice was sad and quiet.

“I was exhausted baby, I’m sorry. I would have just fallen asleep, and I didn’t want you to be disappointed.”

Told you. The poor boy just wanted to rest.

“I wouldn’t have minded you falling asleep.” You told him.

“I know, I just needed some time alone after all that travelling and the excitement of the day. That and… there was something Steve said that was playing on my mind. I guess I needed to process it all. I didn’t really know how to say all of that yesterday.”

You nodded, understanding. You reached out and held his hand, smiling when he lifted it to his mouth and gave it a kiss.

“What did Captain Rogers say?”

Bucky sighed and bit his lip. “I think Steve will want me back at the front with him. Not yet, but soon. He wants to stamp out Hydra, and I can’t let him go alone.”

No. No, that’s so unfair.

“But you said you were tired! You’ve been given time to rest!” You protested.

“We have some time here. It’ll be January when we head out, February if I’m lucky. That gives me a month or two.”

“That’s not enough.” You protested. “You were… After what happened to you…” You didn’t want to put it into words. He had been through enough. He needed peace. He deserved it.

He took both of your hands, squeezing them again.

“But do you understand why I’ll have to go?”

Slowly, you nodded.

“The SSR might post me elsewhere too.” You conceded. “I’ll have to go where they send me. Or, stay put in London until the war is won. I understand duty.”

“But you know that doesn’t change how I feel about you, and the fact that I want this to continue.”

“This?”

“You and me.”

You and me. Me and him.

Not caring who saw, you got up from your seat and moved to the other side of the table. Gently, you sat on Bucky’s lap, wrapping your arms around him and resting your head on his shoulder.

As Bucky cuddled you in response, he whispered in your ear, “That old broad by the window is staring daggers at us.”

“Let her.” You replied, kissing his neck.

He chuckled, pulling you closer. “That’s my girl.” He said.

***

A group of people could be overwhelming, yes, but this group you didn’t mind so much.

Dare you think it, but you felt at home.

The boys of the 107th were a little boisterous, but you had to admit, they were a lot of fun.

You got on with Gabe the best. A fellow linguist, the two of you had started excitedly talking about your studies and what you loved about French and German. Jacques meanwhile was grateful to have another person who spoke his language, and you, him and Gabe had to halt your French banter and make sure that everybody else could understand you.

Morita and Dugan were sweethearts, even if they did have a propensity for sharing inappropriate jokes. You didn’t understand some of them, but Morita was drunk enough to explain them to you. That was very much appreciated, and helped you understand the humour. Falsworth was a little posh and stiff upper lipped, but charming too. He had scolded Dugan and Morita for sharing such obscene jokes with ‘a lady’, but when you had informed him that the girls of the ATS were just as foul-mouthed, he had laughed along and relented.

You had also gotten the chance to speak to Captain Rogers too, or, as he insisted you call him, Steve. You had only spoken to him a few times at the base in Italy, and you found him to be an absolute delight.

When Joey and Thea had arrived, you had become overwhelmed with joy. She had swept you up into a tight hug, and had insisted upon meeting your ‘friend’.

When you had introduced Bucky, she had grinned broadly and winked at you, mouthing ‘I approve’ in a way that Bucky could see. It made him blush, and you hide your face in your hands for a moment, but it was lovely.

Joey had fitted in perfectly with Steve and Bucky, while Thea joined the little French circle with you, Gabe, and Jacques. She had visited Marseille, Jacques’ hometown, for a holiday when she was employed at the Folies Bergère, and watching his face light up as they shared stories was lovely to see.

Usually, groups intimidated you slightly. There was always an expectation to act in a certain way, and the social rules were different. But tonight you felt relaxed. Perhaps it was Bucky’s presence, his kind nature, loving and accepting you.

Or perhaps, in a way, this rag-tag team felt more comfortable and safe than your own family.

***

“So, the lieutenant here tells us that you used to be a showgirl.” Falsworth said to Thea, speech slurring slightly after his fifth pint.

“More of a dancer really darling, but I’m more of a choreographer now, although I can still do a very good high kick!” Thea’s enthusiastic rambling almost matched yours, and you loved it.

“Dancing, huh?” Steve grinned. “I should pay you for some lessons, I’ve been told I have two left feet.”

“Well, I do a touch of singing as well.”

“You’ll have to serenade us!” Dugan added.

“Alright then.” Thea said frankly. “There’s a piano here, and Marge the pub landlady has a wonderful collection of sheet music.”

She got to her feet, smiling, the rest of the group looking at her in amazement.

Thea had once told you that there was no point in feigning modesty. If you had a skill, you should be proud of it. You liked that motto.

“I’ll accompany you.” You offered, standing to go and join her.

Yes, just like old times. You and Thea singing at the piano together!

Piano was something you had picked up as a child. It had been something to focus on, an escape, a way to keep your hands and mind busy while adults argued around you. Your grandmother had taught you the fundamentals before she passed away, and although you were no George Gershwin, you could accompany yourselves and others competently.

“What do you want to sing?” You asked Thea as you set yourself up at the piano with the array of sheet music.

“Something from the music halls! That’s where I got my start after all!”

That didn’t narrow it down very much.

“Hmm…” You flicked through the songbooks, until you found something. “How about this? When I Take My Morning Promenade?”

“Yes!” Thea cried, clapping her hands.

“I’ll turn the pages for you, baby.” You heard Bucky say, and he appeared from behind you, standing by the piano.

Oh you sweet, sweet thing.

“After the last war, the old boys used to love this song. It reminded them of happier times…” Thea rambled as you set yourself up, Bucky primed and ready to turn the pages.

Thea started to sing, somehow giving the provocative song class and charm. Everybody in the pub was looking at her as she sang, and you couldn’t blame them.

Everyone except Bucky, his eyes were only on you.

Well, you and occasionally the song book. Sometimes you had to tap his wrist to prompt him to turn the page.

As Thea finished her song, the whole pub erupted in applause. You and Bucky joined in. Thea’s singing never failed to make you smile, and it felt so amazing to be surrounded by music again.

As Thea gestured to you to extend the applause to her accompanist, you extended your arms and laughed, before shrinking rather shyly.

“Now let’s sing a duet, sweetie.” She said, coming over to the piano and taking a seat beside you. “Your choice.”

You knew the perfect song, no sheet music required, and as you began to play and sing slowly and with feeling, Thea was full of emotion.

“A lady known as Paris, romantic and charming, has left her old companions and faded from view. Lonely men with lonely eyes are seeking her in vain. The streets are where they were, but there’s no sign of her. She has left the Seine…” You sang.

You knew how much Thea missed Paris, her life there, and every piece of news of the occupation there broke her heart. Sometimes it helped to feel something, to sing about it, to mourn it, and that’s what this song was for.

Thea took a deep breath and started to sing the chorus with you, harmonising.

“The last time I saw Paris, her heart was warm and gay, I heard the laughter of her heart in every street café. The last time I saw Paris, her trees were dressed for spring, and lovers walked beneath those trees and birds found songs to sing…”

You didn’t look at Bucky as you played, focusing instead on your duet with Thea, but you could feel his eyes on you, sense the shift in his mood.

He was feeling it too. The sadness, the grief, the nostalgia.

“The last time I saw Paris, her heart was warm and gay, no matter how they change her, I remember her that way!” That line especially, you could hear Thea’s voice break slightly. Adapting your accompaniment, you shifted your left hand from the piano to hold hers for a moment.

As you and Thea finished the song, and you ended with a small flourish on the piano. The applause and sounds of appreciation were more muted, but still enthusiastic.

As you looked between your friends, new and old, and back at your handsome sergeant, there was a warm feeling in your chest.

Groups could sometimes overwhelm you, yes.

But this one here? This one felt like home.

This was 100% self indulgent and based off my own skincare routine. Thank you for reading Em💕💕

Every Morning

Summary: soap helps you with your skincare

Warnings: none just fluff :)

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 🫧 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!❣️

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 didn’t 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.

“Come on hen I could it!” 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 “10:30”. He stretched and rolled out of bed to find you.

“Mornin’ Bonnie,” he said, walking over to your shared bathroom, rubbing the sleep from his eyes, his thick accent thicker with sleep. “Morning babe,” 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. “No Johnny no!” You said, knowing exactly what he was going to ask. “Oh please Bonnie!” 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. “Johnny you don’t even know how to do it!” You laughed, making eye contact through the mirror. “Yes I do, I watch you all the time,” He replied, kissing and sucking on the sweet spot on your neck trying to get you to fold. “Johnny no st-” you started before he reached down to squeeze your ass. “Okay alright,” You laughed. “You won’t regret this bonnie,” he said, planting a kiss on your cheek with a smile too big for his face. “I think I already am,” You mumbled.

“Okay first thing is washing your face hen everyone knows that,” He said, turning on the hot water. “Of course,” 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 didn’t say anything. You also didn’t say anything when he got soap in your eye and tried your best not to wince at the sting. “Okay time to rinse,” 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. “Okay first bottle we’re gonna do is this nia…niacin..” He said, struggling to pronounce the name written on the label. “Niacinamide?” You offered, trying not to chuckle. “Yeah that’s it,” He smiled and you wanted to tell him he wasn’t supposed to use it yet but you kept quiet. “What’s this for?” He asked. “It does a lot of things but it mainly helps with pores and textural irregularities,” 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. “Does that feel nice hen?” He asked and you smiled. “Of course it does love,” You said. “Okay now for the hylronic acid,” He said, and you couldn’t help but laugh at how he pronounced the name. “This one is to help bring moisture back into my skin,” You told him, knowing he was going to ask.

“I can’t believe you do this every morning bonnie,” he said, emphasizing the “every morning” in disbelief. “So many steps,” said Soap, screwing the tiny lid back onto the bottle. You hadn’t realize how small his hands made the bottles seem. “Every morning,” you emapsized. “I do it at night too,” you smiled and he shook his head. “Caffeine and de puffing,” he looked at the tiny bottle in his hand. “You put it on my undereyes. It helps to de-puff and energize them,” 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 room and you recoiled.

“Oh shite sorry y/n” he said, a worried look taking over his face. “Don’t worry about it hun I’m okay,” you said, trying not to tear up from the pain. “What’s next?” You said, genuinely wondering since he did the routine out of order. “This is the only one left. Plant-based squaline,” he said, again reading the label. “This one does a lot of things too; enhanced barrier support, moisturizing, all kinds of stuff,” You said, watching him unscrew the lid and drop the oily liquid onto your skin. “You really need all of this stuff?” He asked, curious. “I don’t need it but it does help,” You said.

He did take care to massage your skin more carefully to avoid your eyes. “Last is this right?” He said, holding up your lotion. “That’s right,” 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 Johnny’s fingers massaging the liquid 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 you’d get the chance again to enjoy it. “Does it really feel that good?” He asked and you opened your eyes to find him smirking. “It did feel really good,” you whispered, planting a kiss on his lips.

“So how’d I do bonnie?” He asked, looking a little too pleased with himself and you couldn’t bring yourself to tell him he did it completely out of order and hurt your eye not once but twice. “You did great Johnny,” you said smiling at him. “Really think so?” He said, helping you down from the counter. “Well….. Maybe it’s best to leave the skincare to me. You did the wrong steps and hurt my eye. Twice,” You said, with a small smile. “Okay no need to be cheeky hen I’ll leave you to your thing,” He laughed. You stood on your toe to give him a kiss. “I wouldn’t mind you watching me though,” You said. Soap slipped his arms around your waist and returned your kiss. “I wouldn’t mind doing that,”