Soap X Reader - Blog Posts

This ☝🏻☝🏻 Tag. them. right.

Can you guys please tag your noncon, dubcon, grooming, toxic and abusive fics properly.

I don't want to even see that shit on my timeline suggested to me because you're too lazy to add it to the hashtags. How can we filter out content that disturbs us if you don't tag it?

I'm seriously so over it. If you can use the tags to tag the ship, you can use them to tag your dead dove content. It's your responsibility to tag your content properly.

I feel this so much, sometimes it's nice and strange and awkward and beautiful to finally be seen by the right people

Thinking about designationless reader...

Imagine how alone she must've been for all her life. It started since she was young, her parents pushing her to the corner of the home, away from the family, and naturally, her siblings would follow their parents' lead, pointedly ignoring her, and finding any excuse available to be out of her presence. She wouldn't understand them anyway, she can't tell the difference between noises nor could she even recognize scents. It just wouldn't work.

Reader thinks that maybe she could find someone, anyone in school, but kids are like sharks, except instead of smelling blood, they smell the lack of all scents on her. Most kids have a combination of their own and their family members' scents. Reader has nothing, so everyone continues the pattern, but now with more stares and jeers and hushed giggles. Reader knows that bullying is bad, but anything would be better than simply not existing to anyone. That's what the others say, at least, that she's nothing, nobody. Never to her face, though, just in the whispers shared between friends.

She eventually tries to find others like her through the wonders of the internet. There's maybe a handful more scattered in her country, but none are her age, and all have their own families who care about them. Was it just her who wasn't deserving of love, of connection? Reader reaches out to them, and they talk a little, but before long, through no one's fault, it falls through. She was bad at talking anyway, even if she doesn't have to worry about scents or sounds that aren't there, she never knew much about context or connotation. She never had the opportunity to learn about the intricacies in communication. Reader is back alone.

The military eventually scouts her, and it's the first time anyone has ever really looked at her. Sure, they look at her like a valuable tool, but a tool is better than nothing. Reader obviously joins, desperate for crumbs. She climbs the ranks, gets the job done. She is good at her job, so people respect her. She learns how to talk professionally, emails, texts, and so one, but no one talks to her on leave. No one invites her to the pub after a good mission. No one even talks to her in the mess. But people do talk to her when they have to, and that's enough. Maybe she even gets a callsign. Doe. After Jane Doe, the placeholder name for unknown individuals, and insult if anything.

Now there's the 141. They invite her to things. They talk to her. They touch her. Reader exists for them. She isn't just an unknown person stuck in the background and invisible to everyone else, and Reader doesn't know what to do. Her speech is awkward and overly professional, even in personal settings. How is she supposed to be friends with someone, multiple someones? How is she supposed to move? To act? To express? She doesn't know, but she really wants to learn. At least now she has good teachers.

ANON YOU GENIUSSSS okay but this? Perfect. AHHHH I ADORE THIS IDEA!! Esp the jane doe callsign omg yes

You weren’t used to being seen.

Growing up, you learned quickly how to make yourself small- how to exist quietly, without taking up space, without asking for too much. Because the few times you had asked- asked for a hug, asked to be let into the nest, asked why you felt so different- the answers had all been the same.

No.

Not now.

Not you.

It wasn’t that your parents didn’t love you. You were sure they did, in their own way. But love was hard to feel when your mother flinched at your touch like you were something disgusting, when your father sighed like he was tired every time you entered the room as if you were taking up space he was saving for his other children. When your siblings built their nests without you, curling into piles of warmth and safety while you sat outside the door, knees pulled to your chest and hands balled into fists to keep them from knocking, a cold ache burrowing itself in your chest.

You stopped knocking eventually.

You stopped trying.

You used to wonder if you’d done something wrong- if maybe you could fix yourself and everything would go back to normal. But it wasn’t something you could fix. It was just… you.

Scentless.

Designationless.

Invisible.

School had been worse, perhaps the worst. At least your family had pretended not to notice how different you were. The other kids didn’t bother pretending. They stared openly, whispered behind your back, laughed when you walked by. You’d caught bits and pieces of what they said- weird, wrong, broken, as if they hoped by having you hear their words, they’d convince you to leave at last.

You’d started keeping your head down after that, slipping through the halls like a shadow. No one talked to you unless they had to, and even then they either did it with a mocking, jeering tone that echoes in your nightmares or with a meek tone; as if your lack of everything is contagious. No one sat next to you at lunch, either. When partners were assigned, you always ended up working alone per your teachers’ instructions.

It was easier that way.

At least, that’s what you told yourself.

By the time you joined the military, you’d gotten good at being alone. You didn’t need friends. Didn’t need packmates. You had work, and work didn’t care if you were quiet or awkward or too stiff to laugh at the right jokes. Work didn’t care if you flinched when people got too close or froze when someone raised their voice. Work demanded to be done, and you had nothing and no one to stop you from that.

But the military also has the same teens who used to bully you so consistently. Rookies all to ready and happy to lord over you. It’s how you get your despised callsign, Doe. Jane Doe. A cruel mockery, comedy wherein you are the joke that has the world laughing.

Still, you wear it. It’s still an acknowledgment and that will always be better than never being seen. You flit from team to team, unit to unit, always an observer from afar, watching everyone around you speak a language you can’t.

But the 141 was different, when you eventually end up working for them.

They cared.

They cared in ways you weren’t ready for.

Soap was relentless, dragging you into conversations even when you barely knew what to say. He filled the silences like it didn’t bother him, kept talking for the both of you, lounging against you unbothered, until you started talking back. Gaz was gentlest, steadier. He never pushed, just lingered close enough to remind you he was there, waiting, whenever you were ready. Quiet, silent acceptance you’d never been given before, and you were yet far too afraid to so easily cling to it.

And the Alphas- Price and Ghost- were worse.

Price had a way of looking at you that made your chest ache, like he saw you, really saw you, and didn’t mind what he found. Scentless, with no designation and all. Ghost was quieter, sharper, but his eyes tracked you everywhere, presence wrapping around you like he was staking a claim you didn’t understand, like he was teying to etch every part of you behind his eyelids.

You didn’t know what to do with it.

They didn’t give you space. They sat next to you at meals, tugged you along when they went out for drinks, called you over during breaks like it was the most natural thing in the world. And it felt natural- until it didn’t, because sometimes you still felt like an outsider.

Like you didn’t belong.

You tried to hide it, but they saw through you. They always did, and they never shied away.

When you started avoiding the mess hall, it was Gaz who caught you, shoving a plate of food into your hands and dragging you to sit with him like it wasn’t a big deal. When you hung back during missions, letting the others fall into their pack dynamics without you, Soap was the one who looped an arm around your shoulders and pulled.

And when you flinched, once, at the sharp sound of someone’s voice echoing down the hall- when you tensed so hard it made your fingers tremble- it was Price who closed the distance, standing in front of you like a wall and letting Ghost linger at your back. Neither of them said a word.

They didn’t have to.

You weren’t used to being protected. You weren’t used to belonging.

But they made it hard not to.

Johnny knows he's messed up when his sweet bonnie calls him "Johnathon"

pairing: john "soap" mactavish x gn!reader

You had a handful of nicknames you'd call Johnny.

Love, Honey, Baby — whatever you were in the mood for.

Johnny loved all your nicknames, always giggling and smiling ear to ear whenever you'd endearingly mention him. Ever since dating you he's never heard his actual name, even at base it'd be soap or johnny.

Until he messed up. Big time.

"We have to talk when you come home Johnathon."

It was just one message you sent to Johnny and he damn near shat his pants.

His mates knew something was up when he was eerily quiet — his usual dorky remarks and tease nowhere to be found and instead replaced by uncomfortable silence along with rhythmic thumping of his foot.

"What's got your knickers twisted Johnny?" Simon would question, arms crossed as he stared down at Johnny.

"The missus is angry with me."

Even Simon knew that was a death sentence — his mate might as well have one foot in the grave.

Johnny ran around town to gather a bouquet with your favorite flowers, candy, takeaway; he bought the whole damn city just to somewhat quell your wrath when he came home.

He hesitantly opened the door, and after only 2 second when he entered his house he immediately felt your looming presence.

"Johnathon." Your voice was stern, arms crossed, and an empty pint of ice cream in your hands.

Johnny gulped, his eyes darting from your scrunched face to the empty pint of ice cream.

Your favorite ice cream, nonetheless.

"Luv—"

"Don't. You greedy man!" You cussed at him, face scrunched in anger as your hand dug into the plastic body of the ice cream. "You ate all of my ice cream, and even had the audacity to put it back in the fridge after!"

Johnny knew he couldn't say anything back unless he wanted his bonnie to be even more angry at him, so he just stood and let you vent at him, calling him a gluttonous beast and every other name in the book (he deserved it because seriously, who leaves the ice cream in the fridge after they eat it?)

After you finished yelling at him, a bit breathless and panting, he'd scoop you into his arms — coddle and kiss you until all the anger washed out your body and you went back to calling him your baby.

He also made sure the next day you'd have your favorite ice cream tucked into the fridge, less he wants his poor bonnie to lash out at him again for his gluttony.

「 Masterlist ❤︎ 」

Johnny knows he's messed up when his sweet bonnie calls him "Johnathon"

pairing: john "soap" mactavish x gn!reader

You had a handful of nicknames you'd call Johnny.

Love, Honey, Baby — whatever you were in the mood for.

Johnny loved all your nicknames, always giggling and smiling ear to ear whenever you'd endearingly mention him. Ever since dating you he's never heard his actual name, even at base it'd be soap or johnny.

Until he messed up. Big time.

"We have to talk when you come home Johnathon."

It was just one message you sent to Johnny and he damn near shat his pants.

His mates knew something was up when he was eerily quiet — his usual dorky remarks and tease nowhere to be found and instead replaced by uncomfortable silence along with rhythmic thumping of his foot.

"What's got your knickers twisted Johnny?" Simon would question, arms crossed as he stared down at Johnny.

"The missus is angry with me."

Even Simon knew that was a death sentence — his mate might as well have one foot in the grave.

Johnny ran around town to gather a bouquet with your favorite flowers, candy, takeaway; he bought the whole damn city just to somewhat quell your wrath when he came home.

He hesitantly opened the door, and after only 2 second when he entered his house he immediately felt your looming presence.

"Johnathon." Your voice was stern, arms crossed, and an empty pint of ice cream in your hands.

Johnny gulped, his eyes darting from your scrunched face to the empty pint of ice cream.

Your favorite ice cream, nonetheless.

"Luv—"

"Don't. You greedy man!" You cussed at him, face scrunched in anger as your hand dug into the plastic body of the ice cream. "You ate all of my ice cream, and even had the audacity to put it back in the fridge after!"

Johnny knew he couldn't say anything back unless he wanted his bonnie to be even more angry at him, so he just stood and let you vent at him, calling him a gluttonous beast and every other name in the book (he deserved it because seriously, who leaves the ice cream in the fridge after they eat it?)

After you finished yelling at him, a bit breathless and panting, he'd scoop you into his arms — coddle and kiss you until all the anger washed out your body and you went back to calling him your baby.

He also made sure the next day you'd have your favorite ice cream tucked into the fridge, less he wants his poor bonnie to lash out at him again for his gluttony.

「 Masterlist ❤︎ 」

Johnny knows he's messed up when his sweet bonnie calls him "Johnathon"

pairing: john "soap" mactavish x gn!reader

You had a handful of nicknames you'd call Johnny.

Love, Honey, Baby — whatever you were in the mood for.

Johnny loved all your nicknames, always giggling and smiling ear to ear whenever you'd endearingly mention him. Ever since dating you he's never heard his actual name, even at base it'd be soap or johnny.

Until he messed up. Big time.

"We have to talk when you come home Johnathon."

It was just one message you sent to Johnny and he damn near shat his pants.

His mates knew something was up when he was eerily quiet — his usual dorky remarks and tease nowhere to be found and instead replaced by uncomfortable silence along with rhythmic thumping of his foot.

"What's got your knickers twisted Johnny?" Simon would question, arms crossed as he stared down at Johnny.

"The missus is angry with me."

Even Simon knew that was a death sentence — his mate might as well have one foot in the grave.

Johnny ran around town to gather a bouquet with your favorite flowers, candy, takeaway; he bought the whole damn city just to somewhat quell your wrath when he came home.

He hesitantly opened the door, and after only 2 second when he entered his house he immediately felt your looming presence.

"Johnathon." Your voice was stern, arms crossed, and an empty pint of ice cream in your hands.

Johnny gulped, his eyes darting from your scrunched face to the empty pint of ice cream.

Your favorite ice cream, nonetheless.

"Luv—"

"Don't. You greedy man!" You cussed at him, face scrunched in anger as your hand dug into the plastic body of the ice cream. "You ate all of my ice cream, and even had the audacity to put it back in the fridge after!"

Johnny knew he couldn't say anything back unless he wanted his bonnie to be even more angry at him, so he just stood and let you vent at him, calling him a gluttonous beast and every other name in the book (he deserved it because seriously, who leaves the ice cream in the fridge after they eat it?)

After you finished yelling at him, a bit breathless and panting, he'd scoop you into his arms — coddle and kiss you until all the anger washed out your body and you went back to calling him your baby.

He also made sure the next day you'd have your favorite ice cream tucked into the fridge, less he wants his poor bonnie to lash out at him again for his gluttony.

「 Masterlist ❤︎ 」

Johnny was a naturally chaotic man and you loved him for the ruckus he could create — but you also loved the private moments with him

cw: john "soap" mactavish x gn!reader

Johnny was notorious for his chaos. He was unapologetically noisy and the embodiment of a rowdy Scotsman’s.

You knew what you were getting into when you fell for his boyish charm: His accented voice that had you hooked, his toned body that embraced you so lovingly, his toothy smile that made your heart throb — he was perfect. Perfectly yours.

You expected that your relationship with johnny would be private; previous exes didn't really show you off so why would Johnny be different?

Oh, how wrong you were. He talked about you constantly. You were his heart and he bared his chest out to everyone.

"Guess wha'? My sweet bonnie got a promotion yesterday!"

"The missus made me cinnamon rolls yesterday!"

"My darlin' knitted me these socks!"

Everyday you would get a message from his mates, complaining how he wouldn't shut up about you. You'd giggle each time seeing their annoyed messages, your heart swelling hearing him proudly speak of your accomplishments and how much he adored you.

"Johnny, your mates texted me today about how you kept chattering on about me. Keep it to a minimum, could you love?" You'd scold Johnny lightly, but fold immediately seeing his bottom lip protrude to form a pout and whine how he just wanted to talk about his darling. How could you say no to that while his arms are wrapped around your figure and peppering kisses all over your face?

Despite his need to be a chatterbox and fill the room with whatever his mind was thinking, you also appreciated the quiet moments with him.

Whenever he came back from a draining mission and all he wanted was to lay his head down on your pillowy thighs and listen to the soft hum of your voice as your fingers threaded through his hair — you could never decline. Having him breathing softly on your lap and eyes fluttered shut, away from war and in the arms of his beloved.

But your favorite is when he asks you to come with him on a walk. His hand intertwined with yours, thumb brushing against your knuckle, the setting sun casting a golden hue on Johnny that had you bewitched — he never looked so perfect.

He'd catch the way your eyes twinkled as you stared at him, a chuckle falling from his lips.

"Somethin' caught your eye darlin'?"

"Yea—" Your voice barely above a murmur, breath hitched when he took a step closer. His gentle smile made your chest tingle in warmth, calloused hands rubbing against the apple of your cheeks as he leaned in and pressed a soft kiss — slow and steady so he could savor the feeling of your lips against his.

You both reluctantly pulled away, limbs still pressed against each other and chests heaving as his lips pressed lazily against your flushed face.

"I'm the luckiest man in the world to have you, bonnie."

Oh, how you loved that he adored you so loudly and gently at the same time.

「 Masterlist ❤︎ 」

Johnny was a naturally chaotic man and you loved him for the ruckus he could create — but you also loved the private moments with him

cw: john "soap" mactavish x gn!reader

Johnny was notorious for his chaos. He was unapologetically noisy and the embodiment of a rowdy Scotsman’s.

You knew what you were getting into when you fell for his boyish charm: His accented voice that had you hooked, his toned body that embraced you so lovingly, his toothy smile that made your heart throb — he was perfect. Perfectly yours.

You expected that your relationship with johnny would be private; previous exes didn't really show you off so why would Johnny be different?

Oh, how wrong you were. He talked about you constantly. You were his heart and he bared his chest out to everyone.

"Guess wha'? My sweet bonnie got a promotion yesterday!"

"The missus made me cinnamon rolls yesterday!"

"My darlin' knitted me these socks!"

Everyday you would get a message from his mates, complaining how he wouldn't shut up about you. You'd giggle each time seeing their annoyed messages, your heart swelling hearing him proudly speak of your accomplishments and how much he adored you.

"Johnny, your mates texted me today about how you kept chattering on about me. Keep it to a minimum, could you love?" You'd scold Johnny lightly, but fold immediately seeing his bottom lip protrude to form a pout and whine how he just wanted to talk about his darling. How could you say no to that while his arms are wrapped around your figure and peppering kisses all over your face?

Despite his need to be a chatterbox and fill the room with whatever his mind was thinking, you also appreciated the quiet moments with him.

Whenever he came back from a draining mission and all he wanted was to lay his head down on your pillowy thighs and listen to the soft hum of your voice as your fingers threaded through his hair — you could never decline. Having him breathing softly on your lap and eyes fluttered shut, away from war and in the arms of his beloved.

But your favorite is when he asks you to come with him on a walk. His hand intertwined with yours, thumb brushing against your knuckle, the setting sun casting a golden hue on Johnny that had you bewitched — he never looked so perfect.

He'd catch the way your eyes twinkled as you stared at him, a chuckle falling from his lips.

"Somethin' caught your eye darlin'?"

"Yea—" Your voice barely above a murmur, breath hitched when he took a step closer. His gentle smile made your chest tingle in warmth, calloused hands rubbing against the apple of your cheeks as he leaned in and pressed a soft kiss — slow and steady so he could savor the feeling of your lips against his.

You both reluctantly pulled away, limbs still pressed against each other and chests heaving as his lips pressed lazily against your flushed face.

"I'm the luckiest man in the world to have you, bonnie."

Oh, how you loved that he adored you so loudly and gently at the same time.

「 Masterlist ❤︎ 」

Johnny was a naturally chaotic man and you loved him for the ruckus he could create — but you also loved the private moments with him

cw: john "soap" mactavish x gn!reader

Johnny was notorious for his chaos. He was unapologetically noisy and the embodiment of a rowdy Scotsman’s.

You knew what you were getting into when you fell for his boyish charm: His accented voice that had you hooked, his toned body that embraced you so lovingly, his toothy smile that made your heart throb — he was perfect. Perfectly yours.

You expected that your relationship with johnny would be private; previous exes didn't really show you off so why would Johnny be different?

Oh, how wrong you were. He talked about you constantly. You were his heart and he bared his chest out to everyone.

"Guess wha'? My sweet bonnie got a promotion yesterday!"

"The missus made me cinnamon rolls yesterday!"

"My darlin' knitted me these socks!"

Everyday you would get a message from his mates, complaining how he wouldn't shut up about you. You'd giggle each time seeing their annoyed messages, your heart swelling hearing him proudly speak of your accomplishments and how much he adored you.

"Johnny, your mates texted me today about how you keep chattering on about me. Keep it to a minimum, could you love?" You'd scold Johnny lightly, but fold immediately seeing his bottom lip protrude to form a pout and whine how he just wanted to talk about his darling. How could you say no to that while his arms are wrapped around your figure and peppering kisses all over your face?

Despite his need to be a chatterbox and fill the room with whatever his mind was thinking, you also appreciated the quiet moments with him.

Whenever he came back from a draining mission and all he wanted was to lay his head down on your pillowy thighs and listen to the soft hum of your voice as your fingers threaded through his hair — you could never decline. Having him breathing softly on your lap and eyes fluttered shut, away from war and in the arms of his beloved.

But your favorite is when he asks you to come with him on a walk. His hand intertwined with yours, thumb brushing against your knuckle, the setting sun casting a golden hue on Johnny that had you bewitched — he never looked so perfect.

He'd catch the way your eyes twinkled as you stared at him, a chuckle falling from his lips.

"Somethin' caught your eye darlin'?"

"Yea—" Your voice barely above a murmur, breath hitched when he took a step closer. His gentle smile made your chest tingle in warmth, calloused hands rubbing against the apple of your cheeks as he leaned in and pressed a soft kiss — slow and steady so he could savor the feeling of your lips against his.

You both reluctantly pulled away, limbs still pressed against each other and chests heaving as his lips pressed lazily against your flushed face.

"I'm the luckiest man in the world to have you, bonnie."

Oh, how you loved that he adored you so loudly and gently at the same time.

「 Masterlist ❤︎ 」

Johnny was a naturally chaotic man and you loved him for the ruckus he could create — but you also loved the private moments with him

pairing: john "soap" mactavish x gn!reader cw: neglectful exes

Johnny was notorious for his chaos. He was unapologetically noisy and the embodiment of a rowdy Scotsman’s.

You knew what you were getting into when you fell for his boyish charm: His accented voice that had you hooked, his toned body that embraced you so lovingly, his toothy smile that made your heart throb — he was perfect. Perfectly yours.

You expected that your relationship with johnny would be private; previous exes didn't really show you off so why would Johnny be different?

Oh, how wrong you were. He talked about you constantly. You were his heart and he bared his chest out to everyone.

"Guess wha'? My sweet bonnie got a promotion yesterday!"

"The missus made me cinnamon rolls yesterday!"

"My darlin' knitted me these socks!"

Everyday you would get a message from his mates, complaining how he wouldn't shut up about you. You'd giggle each time seeing their annoyed messages, your heart swelling hearing him proudly speak of your accomplishments and how much he adored you.

"Johnny, your mates texted me today about how you kept chattering on about me. Keep it to a minimum, could you love?"You'd scold Johnny lightly, but fold immediately seeing his bottom lip protrude to form a pout and whine how he just wanted to talk about his darling. How could you say no to that while his arms are wrapped around your figure and peppering kisses all over your face?

Despite his need to be a chatterbox and fill the room with whatever his mind was thinking, you also appreciated the quiet moments with him.

Whenever he came back from a draining mission and all he wanted was to lay his head down on your pillowy thighs and listen to the soft hum of your voice as your fingers threaded through his hair — you could never decline. Having him breathing softly on your lap and eyes fluttered shut, away from war and in the arms of his beloved.

But your favorite is when he asks you to come with him on a walk. His hand intertwined with yours, thumb brushing against your knuckle, the setting sun casting a golden hue on Johnny that had you bewitched — he never looked so perfect.

He'd catch the way your eyes twinkled as you stared at him, a chuckle falling from his lips.

"Somethin' caught your eye darlin'?"

"Yea—" Your voice barely above a murmur, breath hitched when he took a step closer. His gentle smile made your chest tingle in warmth, calloused hands rubbing against the apple of your cheeks as he leaned in and pressed a soft kiss — slow and steady so he could savor the feeling of your lips against his.

You both reluctantly pulled away, limbs still pressed against each other and chests heaving as his lips pressed lazily against your flushed face.

"I'm the luckiest man in the world to have you, bonnie."

Oh, how you loved that he adored you so loudly and gently at the same time.

「 Masterlist ❤︎ 」