COD Oneshots

Just Friends (Soap)

The bass of the music thumped in Y/N's chest as the team laughed and celebrated around the packed bar. It was a rare night off, a chance to let loose, and they had all jumped at the opportunity. Soap MacTavish was the life of the party as usual, dragging everyone to the dance floor one by one, his infectious energy impossible to resist.

Y/N found herself smiling, watching Soap as he twirled Gaz around with over-the-top dramatics, earning a round of laughter from the rest of the team. When his gaze locked onto hers across the room, her breath hitched. His grin widened, and he pointed at her.

"You're next, lass," he mouthed, winking.

She shook her head, laughing, but when he sauntered over and offered his hand, she couldn't say no. She never could with him.

The two of them had always been close, inseparable on and off the field. They knew each other's quirks, finished each other's sentences, and had each other's backs without question. Everyone teased them about their "friendship," but they both brushed it off. That's all it was, right?

Except Y/N knew it wasn't. Not for her, at least.

Soap pulled her to the center of the floor, spinning her dramatically before settling into a playful rhythm. He was grinning like a fool, his eyes alight with mischief and something softer, something that made her heart stutter.

"You're terrible at this, by the way," she teased, though she was out of breath from laughing.

"Oh, aye?" he shot back, twirling her again. "And you're a proper ballerina, are ye?"

The music shifted to a slower beat, and Soap hesitated for a moment before resting his hands on her hips, pulling her closer. Her heart raced as she looped her arms around his neck. They swayed to the rhythm, the world around them fading into the background.

"You're quiet," he murmured, his voice low and teasing, but there was a nervous edge to it.

Y/N bit her lip. She could feel the weight of the moment, the tension that had been building between them for months, maybe longer. She couldn't take it anymore.

"Soap..." she started, her voice barely audible over the music.

"Hmm?" He tilted his head, his eyes searching hers.

Before she could second-guess herself, she leaned up and kissed him. It was quick and soft, just a brush of her lips against his, but it sent a jolt through her entire body. She pulled back almost immediately, her cheeks burning.

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have—"

But before she could finish, Soap's hands tightened on her hips, and he pulled her back to him, crashing his lips onto hers. This kiss was different—fierce and desperate, like he'd been holding his breath and she was the air he needed.

The world tilted, and Y/N felt herself melting against him, her hands tangling in his hair as the cheers and whistles from their team barely registered. When they finally broke apart, both of them breathless, Soap rested his forehead against hers, a lopsided grin on his face.

"Took you long enough," he said, his voice low and warm.

She laughed, her cheeks still flushed. "You could've said something, you know."

"And miss you makin' the first move? Not a chance, lass."

He kissed her again, softer this time, and the rest of the world disappeared once more.