So I’ve been gone forever…but thoughts on a 141 x reader mini-series where Ghost joins the poly! relationship a year late and they have to get him caught up 🫣
Oh, and there’s an ongoing competition to see who can go all the way with you first.
John "Soap" MacTavish x Fem! Reader
Tags: NSFW. Smut. Cockwarming. Soap being a jerk lol.
A/N: Horrible title. Will change it when I come up with something better.
Word Count: 1.0k
"Your odds are lookin' good."
"Hey, hey..." Soap warned, his grip on your hips tightening. "Stop it. Watchin' the game here."
"John, this is ridiculous," You hissed. "There will be a million soccer games other than this one."
"Football," He corrected, giving the side of your thigh a smack. "None of that soccer rubbish."
"It's the same thing," You gruffed, whimpering when he shifted his hips underneath you. "Every game is the same."
His tip hit the furthest part inside of you that it could, and your arms and legs were beginning to get fuzzy. Soap's cock had been stuffed inside of you for what felt like hours now - completely hard and prodding at all the right places.
He was perfectly comfortable, sunken into the mattress, propped up just enough so he could properly see the TV that was screaming with bright colors of soccer field turf and fans dressed for their team in the stands. He could see the screen over you, much to your demise.
To be completely honest, this whole ordeal did seem fun at first. It was something different, and something you hadn't tried before. It was arousing to think about Soap being buried inside of you with no promise of friction or relieving stimulation. It was supposed to drive him crazy. It was supposed to make him desperate for you...make him beg for you.
However, it seemed that your devious plan fell apart when he decided to take advantage of it and turn the tables on you.
"I don't know why you're complainin' so much," He chuckled, completely unbothered. "This was your idea, sweet stuff."
So now, you were stuck with him taunting you and torturing you with his cock by doing nothing with it - and he was too invested in his stupid soccer/football game to even think about giving in. His eyes were glued to the TV screen behind you, his gaze barely peeling away for merely a moment.
He was having fun watching you fall apart over his attention being elsewhere in a situation where you were fully naked and at his disposal. The circumstances were great for an even better lovemaking session. But Soap was having too much fun playing the game you originally intended to play.
"I might as well go home at this point," You growled, seriously considering getting up and leaving. "So fucking annoying."
At this point, it was beginning to piss you off more than anything. It was the frustration with his stubbornness and irritation for not getting what you wanted. Frankly, you were beginning to feel bad for previously wishing this upon him.
"Hey...don't be like that," He said in a tone that was demanding, but also sympathetic. "We're havin' fun, princess."
His eyes were set on you now, his irises moving back and forth as he focused on your expression to see if this was beginning to become too much for you. Soap could be a bit intentionally aggressive in the bedroom sometimes, but he never let it get to the point where you weren't enjoying yourself.
He studied carefully, looking for anything that let him know he needed to stop. You were definitely getting antsy, and every minute that passed you were growing more needy.
But you weren't at your breaking point...yet.
"You're having fun," You growled, tears beginning to form in your lower lash line. "I'm not getting-"
To shut you up, Soap gave a quick, firm thrust up into you, making a strained cry leave your throat at the feeling of finally having some kind of movement. Soap let out a low, erotic groan at the sound of your wetness getting pushed around and the sight of it smeared onto his lower stomach made his cock twitch within you. He stayed still for a moment, only moving again when your shoulders relaxed.
He watched your expression as he lifted you off of his cock just enough before sinking you back down, his hips rolling up to thrust into you. You visibly shuddered, a whimpered plea for more sounding from you.
He fucked you slow for a bit, giving you just enough to begin to satisfy you, but not enough to curb your craving for him. He saw your blown pupils and flushed skin, tell-tale signs that you were completely maxed out and ready for more.
Too bad he had a soccer game to watch.
His hip movements stopped, and you were back to square one - completely swallowing his cock between your legs, but no promise or sign of anything more. The look on your face was priceless - an overwhelming expression of disappointment, disbelief, and betrayal. Soap would've felt bad for you...except he didn't.
"You're...you're gonna fuck me, right?" You asked, words breathy and voice barely audible.
He gave a chuckle so mischievous and smug that it almost made you tear up again. He reached for one of your hands, pressing your knuckles to his lips with a smirk.
"Sure, I'll fuck you..." He gave a shit eating grin when he saw your eyes light up. "...if they win."
Against your better judgment, you turned your head to look at the TV, your stomach dropping when you saw that the game was just over halfway through the first half...and the scores were tied. Not only did you have another half to go, but there was a chance that you might make it to the end of the game and receive no end to this torture at all. Maybe if you were lucky, you could convince him during halftime.
Soap laughed again at your agitated look, giving your backside a playful squeeze.
"Cheer up, pretty girl. They've had a good year so far," He said, referring to his preferred team. "Your odds are lookin' good."
Soap wasn't showing any signs of letting up, and you didn't have a choice but to endure the rest of this game and hope for a winning game.
This was going to be the longest game of your life.
simon riley who you "meet" through a program where you can send care packages to soldiers. you don't think much of it at first, just a simple package with a few necessities and treats. and along with that, a short, but genuine and handwritten letter thanking the unknown soldier to you for their service.
and when you go to retrieve your mail a few weeks later after getting home from work, brows furrowing together as you shuffle through the stack of envelopes.
bill. another bill. advertisement. paycheck. handwritten addressed envelope from 'ghost'.
your brain doesn't even connect the dots until you are inside, fingers gently picking at the envelope until your able to drag a finger through the seal to open it. a simple piece of what looks like notebook paper is pulled from inside. unfolding it, eyes quickly scan the letter to get an idea what it's about.
you've done plenty of care packages before. never did you get a personalized thank you letter back, so, this was a first. the letter starting off by thank you for the package and that he enjoyed the items, especially the "sweet treats". the two words put in quotations as he referred to what you referred to them as in your own letter. your own brain cringing slightly as you remember what you wrote.
again, thank you for all that you do and enjoy the sweet treats!
and while you expected the letter to end after thanking you, it didn't. additional lines asking about you. the sets of questions ranging from asking how long have you been doing the care packages to general questions about yourself. then, at the very end, after signing off as 'ghost', you couldn't help but notice the chicken scratch of handwriting that added:
p.s. you don't need to respond back if you don't want to, just figured it be nice to get something back in return. thanks again.
omg imagine mma fighter simon fighting someone and while simon's well known for not being easily rattled - he takes all the taunts, disrespect, and cheap tactics of his opponents with a clear head (bc he knows he will absolutely demolish them in the ring later). but then one opponent decides to make a crude comment about you - the cute little thing simon's always got hanging off his arm <3
and simon just goes fucking berserk and everyone has to hold him back from caving his opponents skull in <3
I will forever love this transition. It proves how the years have changed and molded John Price, it shows his growth after nine years - from 2009 to 2019
