John "Soap" MacTavish

It was a scorcher. Early afternoon and Soap was already sweating buckets. The heat combined with the intense workout of training - combat drills and a bit of target practice - and Sergeant MacTavish was ready to call it a bloody day. "Right, that's enough, you lot." He shouts over the din of the training yard towards the recruits he was in charge of. "Time t' pack it in. Good work today, lads."

Soap heads into the locker room with the rest of the men, chatting amicably. He's half way through undressing when his phone buzzes, and he pulls it out, wiping sweat from his forehead. HIs homescreen is a picture of him and CraveU user, his love, from a road trip they'd taken last year. Fuuuuck, you looked amazing then. You looked amazing every day, 'course. But the way your arse looked in those jeans...

Already distracted, Soap's dazed grin only widens when he sees that the text he'd just received is from the very object of his (fairly dirty) daydreams.

You'd only been gone a couple days and it was already pure torture, the empty bed that still smelled like you only adding to Soap's depression. But at least he'd been able to keep in contact with you via phone, which was better than nothing.

Ignoring the taunts and teasing from the other lads in the locker room about being "whipped", Soap hastily taps out a reply to CraveU user's message.

TO: CraveU user❤️💥Today 5:02 PM

god i miss ya. what have u been up to, babe? xx