in absolute TEARS over ur tags from my rb . lint in ur eyeballs im howlinfjsksbb u rly get the despair i was going through 🫱🏻🫲🏼
listen . listen. not just johnny but i raise u .... thats captain mactavish, older, even bulkier despite being built like a brick shithouse since the day he left the womb but even SOFTER than his sgt days oh god i need to gnaw on him like a chunk of wood
- @vierisqe (apologies that THIS is our moot introduction im cackling)
click to see some fantastic hairy man boobs ෆ
the way this post sent me into the stratosphere?!?!?! i kid u not i FELT my heart stop beating for a few minutes and then i started convulsing. LORDD big big big hairy men burly men gigantic bear-like men fuckkk MEEEE THEY DO INSANE THINGS TO MY BRAIN CHEMISTRY!!! but now.. u see. NOW. venus u say this to me. and i feel like i just got sucked into a black hole...... captain mactavish. mid-late 30s captain john "soap" mactavish..dear god. this is an immediate K.O., less than 3 seconds in the ring and i'm sprawled out on the ground.
uhh anyway.. here's 1.0k of soap x f!reader. this is entirely your fault, btw. enjoy. ෆ
you know, johnny’s always been confident. when he was younger, it was rooted in naïveté and a want— a need— to impress. to climb to the top and sneer back at all those who doubted him. as a captain, it’s rooted in his experience. he’s cocky because he has all the skills (and medals) to back it up, how the hell do you think he got this far? in his 20s, of course he knew he was attractive. he has a badass job, badass scars, and a smile that could give the sun a run for his money. but it’s been over 10 years since then. johnny doesn’t have to puff up his chest and make sure his voice carries across the room just to be seen, to be heard. no, no, no he doesn’t have to.
but he wants to.
anything to get you looking at him.
ever since you moved in next door, fuck, his brain has turned to mush. on base, he can't help but let his mind wander to his pretty little neighbor. for once in his life, he’s looking forward to being put on leave.
and when johnny does make the trip back to glasgow, oh does he put on a show for you. he puffs up his chest when you’re both grabbing your mail in the afternoon. mows the lawn shirtless, takes extra long bc he knows your curtains are open. his bedroom window sits across from yours. johnny hardly dries off after his showers just to see you sweat, pulling on his old tees that stretch across his chest and arms. before his morning runs, he warms-up for an extra 10 or so minutes on the pavement, smirking to himself when he sees those curtains twitch in the corner of his eye.
and fuck, if he isn't proud of where his efforts have landed him. it didn't take long, getting you into his bed. wrapping himself up in all the intricacies of your little civilian life.
he doesn't get as sappy much these days, but he never thought he'd have this. maybe when he was younger and stupider, he dreamt of having someone to love by his side. but the SAS was no joke, and with one too many run-ins with the afterlife, that little flame flickering in his chest on lonely days and quiet nights quickly snuffed itself out. yet, here you are, standing in his kitchen with a mug of steaming coffee and wearing one of his shirts.
fresh from the shower, johnny pads his way over to you, shirtless in his blue jeans left unbuttoned as they cling to damp skin.
"don't you have somewhere to be?" you question, cocking an eyebrow at his half-dressed state.
truthfully, he's running a little behind to meet up with his sister and her kids, but you, sitting pretty in his home and wearing his clothes, are much more enticing than two toddlers chewing on his shirtsleeves. "i cannae think of a place more important than right here," he smiles, teeth digging in to his plush bottom lip as he brushes off the scoff you give him in reply. he takes the mug from your grip, sipping on it once or twice before setting it down on the countertop.
johnny crowds you against the kitchen cabinets, the corner of his lip twitching upwards at the heat in your gaze laid upon him. his minty breath fans across the side of your face, lips pressing oh-so faint kisses to the skin beneath your ear, eliciting goosebumps all down your side. his mouth nuzzles at your neck, beard scratching your skin in all the right ways. he breaths in the smell of his shampoo lingering in your soft hair, and his hands make their way to your sides, fingers digging into your hips to pull you closer.
"what are you doin', john?" your words come out breathless, tilting your head back to give him more room to tease. your nails scratch gently at his scalp, tugging on the skin of his neck on your way down to his shoulders, his chest. god, does he love his name dripping from your lips.
he neglects to answer you, instead groaning at the sweet taste of your skin on his tongue, using his grip at your waist to aid in the slow roll of his hips against yours.
heat pools in your belly at the scrape of his teeth along your throat, letting out a soft whine, shifting your stance to let his muscular thigh slot between your legs. cool denim presses against your core, and you buck your hips up for any kind of friction, chasing after the ecstacy johnny brought you to just last night.
spit slicks the skin of your neck when he pulls away, admiring the deep red bruise blooming before him. johnny trails his lips up your jaw, to your cheeks, moans your name into your own mouth before stepping back, taking his heat with him.
he's proud of the glazed look in your eye, dazed and only half-there as you drink in his tanned skin. dark, coarse hair swirls over his pecs, gathering into a thick mass down his midline, growing sparser and softer as it spreads over his belly. your fingers follow the path your eyes have taken, digging into the dips and valleys of his strong abdomen.
"please, john," you beg, tugging at his waistband to wrap your fingers around what you crave most. "want you again."
his hands squeeze your hips once more before settling over your own. instead of working to tug his jeans down his legs, he intertwines your fingers. johnny brings both your hands up to his lips, pressing two soft kisses against your knuckles all while his blue, blue eyes peer through dark lashes, shimmering like the sun over the ocean. "'ve got somewhere to be, m'eudail," he whispers, flashing a devilish smile from behind your interlocked hands.
with a quick peck to your heated cheeks, he detangles himself from your hold. johnny snatches up the forgotten coffee from beside you as he swiftly turns around and heads back to the bedroom to get dressed, smiling into the rim of the ceramic mug.
for as much as he's matured, he'll never get over how easy it is to make you squirm.
@seiwas sel, get over here. this is for you too. ෆ
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