COD Oneshots

Scared (Soap)

Soap woke abruptly, drenched in sweat, his heart pounding against his ribs like a relentless drumbeat. The nightmares had been haunting him with increasing intensity since the last mission. The darkness of war clung to him, refusing to loosen its grip even in sleep.

Tonight, however, was different. As he lay there, trying to steady his breathing, he heard the faint creak of his door. His senses heightened, he turned his head to see Y/n slipping into the room, her silhouette barely visible in the dim moonlight filtering through the curtains. She closed the door softly behind her, her presence a soothing contrast to the turmoil within him.

"Y/n..." Soap's voice was hoarse, still raspy from the remnants of the nightmare.

She approached his bed with quiet determination, her eyes reflecting concern and a hint of vulnerability. Without a word, she gently lifted the sheets and slid in beside him. The warmth of her body against his sent a shockwave of comfort through him, a sensation he hadn't realized he desperately needed.

"Just let me hold you for a minute," she whispered, her voice barely audible over the murmur of the night.

Soap hesitated for a moment, conflicted by the storm of emotions swirling inside him. Y/n was more than a teammate; she was someone he admired.

Instead of protesting, he simply nodded, shifting to allow her closer. She wrapped her arms around him, holding him as if she could shield him from the nightmares that haunted his sleep. Soap closed his eyes, allowing himself to sink into her embrace, feeling the tension gradually melt away.

In the quiet of the night, with only the faint sound of their breathing filling the room, Soap realized something profound. He had harbored a quiet crush on Y/n for some time, admiring her strength, her skill, and her unwavering determination in the face of danger. But now, as she held him close, offering comfort without hesitation, he knew with certainty that his feelings ran deeper than mere admiration.

The weight of his unspoken emotions hung heavy in the air between them, palpable yet unacknowledged. Soap's heart raced again, not from fear or nightmares, but from a different kind of intensity—one born of vulnerability and the dawning realization that he wanted more than just camaraderie with Y/n.

They lay there together for what felt like both an eternity and a fleeting moment, the boundaries of their relationship shifting imperceptibly yet irrevocably. Eventually, Y/n shifted slightly, breaking the silence with a whisper. "Are you feeling any better?"

Soap nodded wordlessly, unable to trust his voice just yet. He gently squeezed her hand, a silent thank you for being there when he needed her the most.

Y/n smiled faintly, her eyes meeting his with a mix of tenderness and something unspoken. "I'm not going anywhere," she assured him softly, her voice a promise of steadfast support.

-----------------------

As the first light of dawn filtered through the curtains, Soap gradually stirred awake. He felt strangely refreshed, the remnants of the nightmares dissipating like morning mist. Then he realized they had shifted positions during the night—Y/n's head now rested gently on his chest, her breathing steady and calm.

He lay there for a moment, taking in the sight of her peaceful sleeping face. The tenderness of the scene filled him with a bittersweet ache, knowing deep down that this might be the only time he would have her this close, this vulnerable. Yet, he couldn't help but cherish the moment, committing every detail to memory—the curve of her cheek, the softness of her hair against his skin, the faint rise and fall of her breath.

Soap knew that their world was one of constant movement, missions that pulled them apart and thrust them into perilous situations. The intimacy of this morning, tangled in sheets and dreams, seemed like a fleeting gift amidst the chaos of their lives.