Uhm... would you maybe 👉👈 write more bff!Soap with reader? I don't know what it is about your version of him, but he's just so comforting and funny. I could absolutely devour 50k words of them doing absolutely nothing together. 💙
A/N: Thanks! anything for you, lovely! <3 It's definitely far from 50k, but I hope you'll like this one☺️
Summary: you got your wisdom teeth removed.
Pairing: BFF!Soap x reader.
Warnings/tags: minors DNI, fem!reader, no use of y/n, dental surgery, English is not my first language.
Soap slung you over his shoulder and carried you toward the hospital ward, not letting go despite your attempts to squirm and fight him off.
"I'LL RIP YOUR MOHAWK OFF AND STICK IT TO YOUR SKINNY ASS."
You crawled onto Soap's back, trying to wrap your arm around his neck, but he twisted and kicked, trying to move you in his grip.
Your attempt to get him into chokehold failed when Johnny shook you off, rolling to the right. After making him move his weight to one foot, you used your arms to guide Soap's upper body in the opposite direction. Like turning a steering wheel, you caught his foot at the precise moment it lifted slightly off the ground, and with an indignant groan, your friend got swept off his feet.
"Bastard!" You pouted, crossing arms over your chest.
"Ye're a fuckin wimp! Ye're scared!"
"Dah-uh! Just look at 'er, the Special Forces Sergeant is afraid of a dentist!"
You blushed to the tips of your ears and sullenly lowered your gaze to the floor. Johnny, still lying on the floor like a starfish, sighed dramatically and ran a hand over his face.
"Ye cannae even chew properly, all yer teeth are gaunae fall out soon!"
As if you didn't already know that you couldn't put off going to the dentist any longer... But the prospect of losing all four wisdom teeth at once plunged you into a state of dread.
"I know, damn it, I know! Okay?!" You extended your hand to Johnny, helping him up from the floor. "I just wanted to, uh... you know, wait until Simon gets back."
"Nonsense! He's gone for at least another two weeks, and yer teeth are gaunae arrange themselves in a zigzag pattern," he rolled his eyes.
"It's a serious procedure. I won't be able to eat or sleep properly because of the pain, my face will swell, and..." you frowned, biting your lip anxiously. "I can't do it alone."
Soap didn't finish dusting his clothes. He stared at you with wide eyes, like you'd said something incredibly stupid that had personally offended him.
"I was afraid the day would come when ye'd reject ma friendship, but I didnae think it would come sae soon."
"Agh, Ah!" Johnny mocked you, not giving you a chance to explain. "I am na less capable of takin care of ye than yer boyfriend."
"I dinnae care what ye call each other, I'm just sayin thon I'll help ye, Bonnie."
You hesitated a bit at the suggestion, feeling your cheeks burn with a heat of embarrassment.
"So even when I drool all over myself..."
"Aye, I'll wipe yer drool," he gave you an assuring smile. "Let me remind ye that I'd stitched up yer stab wound and helped ye make a tampon out of bread crumbs in the trenches. So, for yer information, yer distrust hurt me deeply."
Soap tried his best to look offended, and his failure made you laugh out loud. Your fear was absolutely real, despite the awareness of the absurdity of it, but your best friend was certainly no worse a support than Ghost would have been.
Preparing for the surgery didn't take long, the procedure was scheduled for the next day. Your inflamed gums had been so painful that you were almost glad it would be over soon. And now, after nine hours of fasting, a sleepless night, and one last attempt to sneak out, you lay in the dentist's soft leather chair. The room was cool, but you weren't entirely sure that was the reason you were shaking.
Here and now, there was only you and the syringe in the nurse's hand. Deep breath. "Count to 10." You felt your heart pounding in your chest, and the whole situation felt increasingly like a mistake. Johnny was waiting outside, he wasn't allowed in here, but you really wanted him to hold your hand. 10. 9. 8... 7..... 6.........
At first, it was no worse than after a regular cavity treatment. You barely felt any pain, more of a strange tingling sensation. There were rolls of gauze stuffed behind your cheeks, making it difficult to speak properly.
"Ey, ey! Easy, lassie, take yer time," warm hands pressed on your shoulders, forcing you back onto the couch. Your head was spinning a little from trying to get up, so you didn't resist.
"Wha- don' wowwy... i wa ganna ask yo-"
"Didnae they teach ye not tae talk with yer mouth full?" The familiar voice sounded soft, without the usual mockery. Worried, even.
The lamp above your head blurred into a carnival of funny lights. Everything around you seemed very funny.
"Will yo come to my cotta-"
"Wheesht! Goddammit, doll, yer stitches will come apart, shut up."
And then- oblivion again.
For the third day now, you've been in pain. Nagging, throbbing, sharp. You've been shot at, beaten, and cut, but this pain is different. It disarms you and leaves you feeling pathetic. Your mouth is pitted with blood, filling it with the taste of metal and antiseptic.
"C'mon, open wide, bonnie," Johnny immediately laughed at his own joke, making the spoon in his hand shake.
If looks could kill... such a cliché. Anyway, even if they could, you'd prefer your bare hands.
Noticing you weren't laughing, Johnny put his hand down. He dropped the spoon back into the bowl of applesauce in his hands.
"Ye need tae eat. Anything," he leaned over to adjust the pillow under your back. Sitting was painful, your head was spinning, and your wounds were starting to ache worse, even though you could only lie down in a specific position on your back. The entire lower half of your face was swollen, and bruises were probably already starting to appear on your jawline and cheeks. You were sure of it, even if Soap refused to give you a mirror.
"No," you grimaced, and Johnny thought you were going to puke again.
"Ye've had two mugs of broth in the last two days," he tried to be stern. "Three more spoonfuls, please."
"Pill," you said, your lips barely moving.
"Nope, dolly, too early for a pill. Ye took one just an hour ago," Johnny really was a good caretaker. From the surgery until now, he'd been treating you like a child, which was helpful under the circumstances.
You sighed in disappointment and closed your eyes. Bloody drool had already gathered in your mouth, swallowing it was too painful. The tip of the stitches thread tickled the side of your tongue unpleasantly.
Perhaps you'd accidentally fallen asleep, because strangely, it got dark outside your window, and it was morning a few moments ago. Johnny was still there. Or rather, already there. You were awakened by the sound of the door opening.
"Bonnie! How did ye sleep?" On his way to your bed, he picked up the scattered clothes on the floor that you'd obviously not cleaned up in days. In his hands, he carried a plastic bowl from the dining room, with warm steam curling up above it.
"This time, puppy eyes won'ae work. I'll make ye eat. Ma grandpa used to say, a hungersome wame has nae lugs!"
You smiled just a little, pulling the blanket higher up to your neck. "I'm actuawy hungwy..."
"So thon's how we're talkin now!" Soap burst out laughing, sitting on the edge of the bed, his large hand gently caressing your arm. "Feelin' better?"
Well, not really, but the empathy with which he gazed into your sleepy eyes really touched you. You nodded briefly.
"I would have come sooner, but Kyle stole ma jacket without askin because, ye see, "it was too small for his muscular shoulders." (Bampot). And in the jacket was ma armory pass, which I really needed, but Gaz..."
You weren't listening very carefully, though you were trying to honestly follow the cause-and-effect relationships in his story.
"So, here we are. But!! Look whit I got! Nancy, the beautiful cook..."
"Aye! So? Anyway, at ma request, she saved the last portion of mashed potatoes," Johnny proudly swirled the plate in front of your nose, and the smell made your stomach growl demandingly. "There was some gravy, but I thought parsley might get intae yer cuts. By the way, do yer remember to rinse your mouth? Okay, good".
You felt full for the first time in days. You ate, trying not to open your mouth more than half a centimeter, and the warm food even seemed to make you feel better.
Johnny held a bottle of water to your lips, and after taking a couple of sips, you sank back onto the pillows while your friend turned on your favorite TV show.
"Stay. Pwease?..." You grabbed the sleeve of his hoodie, and Johnny, of course, gave in.
"Whit episode were we on last time?"
