COD Oneshots

Hidden feelings (Soap)

John "Soap" MacTavish stepped off the military transport, exhaustion and relief in equal measure. The endless missions, the harrowing battles, the ceaseless tension—all dissipated when he thought of Y/N. No matter the hour or the circumstance, his first stop was always her house. There, he found solace in her presence, a balm for the chaos of his life. But today, as he trudged down the familiar streets, a heavy dread gnawed at him. He had told himself a hundred times to confess his feelings, yet he never could. Not when she had been so strong and independent, a vital part of the team until her injury had forced her to step back. Not when her spirit was so unbroken despite everything.

Y/N had been a formidable operative, her skills unmatched until that fateful mission when she was gravely injured. Recovery had been long and arduous, but what hurt her most was not being able to return to the field. She had adapted, though—throwing herself into supporting the team from behind the scenes, always waiting for Soap to return, always hoping for something more than friendship.

Weeks turned into months. Soap's missions became more frequent, and his calls less so. He was pulling away, and Y/N felt the growing void with a mix of confusion and fear.

Today, she knew he was supposed to be back. She had marked it on her calendar, counting down the days. But as the hours stretched on, he didn't show up. Her calls went unanswered. She contacted the team, only to be told that Soap had already gone home.

A gnawing anxiety twisted in her stomach. Something was wrong. She grabbed her keys and headed straight to the base. Her heart pounded as she approached the gym, the sound of rhythmic pounding growing louder with each step. She found him there, drenched in sweat, furiously pummeling the boxing equipment.

"Soap!" she called out, her voice laced with worry.

He didn't stop. His fists slammed into the bag with a fury that seemed unending.

"Soap!" she tried again, louder this time. "John!"

He froze, the name a jolt to his system. Panting heavily, he turned to face her, eyes blazing with an intensity she had never seen before.

"Why didn't you come home?" she asked, stepping closer, her own frustration bubbling to the surface. "You've been avoiding me. What's going on?"

He tore his gloves off, flinging them aside. "You don't get it, do you?" he snarled, his voice hoarse. "Being close to you, it's killing me."

Her breath caught. "What do you mean?"

He raked a hand through his hair, a bitter laugh escaping his lips. "Every mission, every bloody day, I'm out there thinking about you. And I hate myself for it. I hate that I can't stop thinking about you. I love you, Y/N. I've loved you for so long, and I can't do this anymore. I can't pretend that it's okay, that we're just friends, that I'm not tearing myself apart wanting you."

The confession hung in the air between them, raw and vulnerable. Y/N's heart pounded in her chest. All this time, she had yearned for him, but never imagined he felt the same. She took a tentative step closer, her eyes never leaving his.

"Why didn't you tell me?" she whispered, her voice trembling.

He shook his head, frustration etched into his features. "Because I thought it would ruin everything. You're so strong, so capable. I didn't want to burden you with my feelings, especially after you got hurt. I didn't want to be the reason you felt trapped."

Tears welled in her eyes. "You're not a burden, John. You never were. I've loved you for so long, and it hurt thinking you didn't feel the same. We've both been suffering alone when we didn't have to."

His gaze softened, the anger melting into something more profound, more tender. He stepped closer, reaching out to cup her face in his hands. "I'm sorry," he murmured, his thumb brushing away a tear. "I'm so sorry."

She leaned into his touch, her hands covering his. "We've wasted so much time," she said softly, her voice breaking.

He nodded, his forehead resting against hers. "No more," he whispered. "No more wasted time. I'm done running away."

Their lips met in a kiss that was both fierce and gentle, a culmination of years of hidden feelings and unspoken words. It was a promise, a new beginning amidst the chaos of their lives.

When they finally pulled apart, Soap's eyes held a determination she had never seen before. "Whatever happens, we'll face it together," he said firmly. "No more secrets. No more running."

Y/N smiled through her tears, her heart lighter than it had been in years. "Together," she echoed. "Always."

And in that moment, amidst the lingering scent of sweat and the echoes of his earlier rage, they found something they had both longed for: peace, love, and a future intertwined.