A Little Bit Of Everyone [18+]

6// Ye Fucking Brat (Sgt. John "Soap" McTavish) Pt. 1

Song Name: Closer- Nine Inch Nails

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

John looked up at his team, before pulling his phone out of his pocket. He was fucking exhausted from spending 2 weeks in the desert.

He hadn't been on base for about 4 months before that and he felt as though he was sprung a little too high.

Bubbles🛀❤- Aye Bonnie, you doing okay? (Sent- 6:47 pm)

Rosie💐💕-Body Wash?
You're back?
(Sent-6:51 pm)

Bubbles🛀❤- Missed me?
(Sent- 6:52 pm)

Rosie💐💕- You know I did.
You swinging by?
(Sent- 6:53 pm)

Bubbles🛀❤- Aye, I missed Mo nighean bhòidheach. (My pretty girl.)
(Sent- 6:54 pm)

Rosie💐💕- I'll have your favourite ready. Come back in a bottle and not suds, okay bubbles?
(Sent- 6:55 pm)

Bubbles🛀❤- You got it baby❤.
(Sent- 6:56 pm)

Rosie💐💕- I love you Johnny.
(Sent- 6:57 pm)

Bubbles🛀❤- I love you too Rosemary.  (Sent- 7:00 pm)

John looked up from his phone, a broad smile coating his lips. He was going to see his girl later. As soon as he stepped on base, he was hitting the showers and off to the pub to see his Leanabh. (Baby.)

He missed feeling her silky hair between his fingers, how she molded into him like she was his missing piece. He missed how she arched into him as his fingers ghosted her sides.

He missed her little dimpled smile. Her little laugh-snort. The way her lapis lazuli eyes twinkled as if God had placed stars in them and they only shone for him.

God, he missed her so fucking much.

"Wha's gotten y' face like that Soap?" Ghost's gruff voice reached his ears and he looked to see him taking the mask off; ripples of Dark brown hair flopping on the top of his head.

He watched as Simon ran a hand through his hair, catching his eye and he smirked.

Cheeky asshole.

"Just grateful tae be back on neutral soil L.T." He lied, flashing a charming smile at Simon and he shrugs, giving him a half smile back.

It didn't matter if the Lieutenant believed him or not, if he thought he was fucking crazy because of the heat. He was going to see her.

He was going to see his girl.

"How fucking hard is it to pour an large Guiness? Fucking bitch." A customer slurred and Sage gritted her teeth, shoving the glass into his direction.

"Now go fuck yourself." She seethed, flashing a dark smile as his jaw went slack.

She tied up her black streaked with grey hair, watching as the pub got busier. It was Saturday and Letloozie's was a popular spot to just let loose. She, however, was on edge.

She was going to see him again.

John McTavish.

The Scotsman who never left her dreams. Who she often touched herself thinking about. How she missed seeing his sky blue eyes trailing behind her. An "steaming jesus Bonnie, that's it." Following.