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juvenillia · 4 months

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~ not so bad ~ John 'Soap' MacTavish x fem!reader [fluff/secret santa]

a/n: as some of you might know, @bunnyreaper did organise a secret santa, and she did so much for this lil project, and for me in general over the past weeks that I just wanted to write her a lil' thing myself. So this is my way to say thank you for everything to my favourite Sergeant. I love you🩶 (and yes I had to include myself somehow, I'm sorry)

wordcount: 1.5k

》Master Post《

It was too noisy. Literally too cheerful. Everyone's chatting, reddened cheeks from either the alcohol or from the bitter cold outside. The door swung open many times letting breezes of said cold cool the area for mere seconds. The small place was flooded by people. Cheesy Christmas songs were blasting through the speakers and everyone in that God damn pub screamed their lyrics at the top of their lungs. Everyone except you.

You were seated in one of the separate loungings, an already empty glass sitting in front of you. You didn't want to be here, but your friend literally dragged you out of your apartment. How could you even deny her that wish? It was a pub near the local military base, a pub she frequented for the past months very often and you knew there was only one reason: A guy, who she had mentioned a few times before and was completely smitten by.

So how could you decline when she literally begged you to go with her on Christmas eve? You were too curious to catch a glimpse of the man that stole your friend’s heart. Unfortunately, this curiosity now led you to sitting on a couch in that overfilled pub, while your friend was shamelessly flirting with said man. Of course, you were a bit annoyed because she left you all on yourself, but seeing her beaming with happiness made your heart melt again. You couldn’t stay mad at her for too long.

“It's Christmas, you can't stay at home for yourself, bun! And who knows, maybe there’s a Christmas miracle going to happen.” You recall the voice from your friend Florence as she literally talked you into joining her, and for the sunshine nature she was, you gave in. It wasn't as annoying as you imagined it, at least a good amount of alcohol was already running through your veins while watching one of your closest friends having the time of her life. But you couldn't help it and wished you stayed at home. Well she tried to pull you onto the dance floor a few times, tried to invite you in their circle introducing you to Simon, tried everything to keep you entertained, but you had no interest in it. You rather stayed seated here, a glass of your favorite drink in one hand and your eyes pinned onto your friend trying to push the ongoing fling to the next level, and of course making sure this Simon guy treated her properly.

“Nae a holiday person. Eh?” A husky voice caught your attention and a man took the place across from you, a glass of whiskey in his hand which was now settled on the table. He wore one of the ugliest Christmas sweaters you’ve ever seen, but the smile on his lips made up to it.

“You could say so.” Usually you wouldn't be interested in a conversation with a random guy that dared to infiltrate your space like him, spreading his legs out beneath the table and almost bumping his feet into yours. But something about this stranger caught your interest.

“Aye, tell me lass, Scrooge or Grinch?” He raised his brows in a teasing manner while leaning his ellbow onto the table and placing his head into his huge calloused palm. You couldn't help it and star at the scar at his chin before your eyes trailed upwards to this mischievous grin, further upwards to his crystal blue eyes. They held a glimpse of coquetry but also genius interest.

You couldn't suppress a sweet smile at his question, while your hand tried to cover it in a polite manner. The man in front of you was faster. Catching your hand before you could even hide your smile. “Dinnea that, hen. Yer laugh is bonnie.” The teasing tone in his voice was replaced with a sincere and honest intention.

“Both hated humans rather than Christmas.” Your own voice held a smug tone while your eyes were pinned on his. You haven't even noticed that he scooted closer, while still keeping your hand in his. “But both are close, though.”

He pulled your hand up to place a slight kiss onto your knuckles. You could've missed it by the way you were still mesmerized by his baby blues. “Hope ‘m nae one of those then.” His thumb brushed over the spot his lips just left. “‘m John, but friends call me Johnny.”

“Olivia, but friends call me bunny.” You could've sworn that there were way too many people in here, the room temperature got way too high by now. But in reality it was just the alcohol in your system. Definitely not the hot Scotsman next to you, who's thigh was now leaned against yours. You could witness your friend leaving the pub with the behemoth of a man from the side view of your eyes, but you couldn't care less. She Was old enough to decide what's best for her, and right now you decided it was best for you to ignore it. Keeping all of your focus on the charming man.

“Mind if I call ye bonnie instead?” He leaned a bit further into the couch while he eyed you up from top to bottom, well as much as the table allowed him to. As a response you just nodded your head, not able to respond to him properly. Eventually, the heat on your cheeks wasn't from the alcohol nor from the crowded place. Maybe it was indeed because of Johnny. His hand stroked a strain of curly hair behind your ear. “Let me buy ye another drink, bonnie.” It wasn't a request as before, he was already on his way to the bar to get you the same drink as before again. So you decided to follow him through the crowd, not minding anyone that bumped into you. You just wanted to stay close to him, what he immediately noticed. One of the biggest grin you've seen him wore on his lips. “Missin’ me already lass, eh?”

“Maybe. Maybe not. Who knows.” You teased him while taking the glass out of his hands and bringing it to your lips. Maybe Florence was right, maybe it wasn't that bad to go out tonight.

“I see.” He smiled while taking some sips from his drink. He averted his eyes from your figure for a blink of an eye, catching something of his interest. If you thought his grin couldn't turn more smug, you were damn wrong. He placed the glass onto the wooden counter, and used his free hand to pull you closer to him by your waist.

You shrieked out of the sudden impact and your hands found his chest, leaning flush against the tight muscles. You could literally feel him flex beneath your touch, even through the wool of the sweater. “What the…” You couldn't even end your sentence as his other hand pointed just to the spot above your heads. Your eyes followed his index fingers to the little mistletoe above, and the realization hit you right now. His hand moved to cup your cheek while he bent himself over to close the slight gap that was left. Brushing his lips over yours just so gently and polite, it didn't feel like any of the kisses you had experienced so far.

After some time - way to short amount for your liking - you parted again, hands still staying at their previous places. “Christmas traditions…” He placed another quick peck onto the crown of your head. “Nae so bad after all, eh?” His smile grew into a big grin, something you wanted to see even more often.

You heard another familiar voice before you could even respond to Johnny. “Fuckin hell. We missed it, Si.” It was your friend who just walked back into the pub, a beefy arm slung over her shoulder while both approached you.

“Wait…What did you miss?” You blinked in confusion at your friend, who only laughed.

“Your Christmas miracle, silly bun.” She laughed while intervening her finger with his.

That was the second time you realized something tonight. It hit you like a ton of bricks and your brows furrowed. “You fuckin’ minx.” You tried to keep a scolding tone, but you couldn't suppress the happiness in your voice.

“Better say thank you.” She teased, while Simon placed his chin onto her head.

“We should leave them alone, love.” He placed a soft kiss onto her head, while closing his eyes and she nodded.

“Alright.” Johnny picked you up in one motion and threw you over his shoulder like you weighed nothing, which forced a scream out of your throat. Laughing was the only thing you were surrounded by as your cheeks completely turned red. “Yer comin’ hame with me, bonnie.”

“Treat ma girl right, Johnny!” She yelled after the Scot while he already carried you outside.

And it really shouldn't be a secret that he indeed treated you right. From this day on, it became a cheesy tradition to spend the Christmas eve in that specific pub. Johnny at your side, one of his hands always on you, while he kept bragging to Simon about something that happened on the last mission which made Florence laugh way too hard. From this day on, Christmas was not so bad anymore.

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