mintfullyyours

[mintfullyyours]

Another one (said to the tune of dj khaled)

What if/imagine...have you ever seen the tiktok/reel where the SO randomly knocks something out of the others hands and walks away? Ex. price is sitting on the couch looking at his phone and you just walk by and knock it out of his hands and keep going.

It's meant to be playful, not hurting or damaging any object. It's definitely a way to get someone's attention. 🤣

Another is right. I have such a list to get through I feel like I cannot stay organize lmao. I love a good prank. I love a good, non-malicious prank. I love pulling said prank on one (all) the 141. Hilarious. Amazing. Give me more. Thank you for dropping into my inbox with this little gem. <3

For the masterlist and how to submit your own request, click HERE

Task Force 141 x Reader (can be read as gn!reader)

Content & Warnings (MDNI): hijinks & shenanigans, pranks, flirting, suggestive themes, established relationship

Word Count: 800

ao3 // main masterlist // imagines & what if masterlist

John Price

John relaxes on the sofa, cellphone in hand, fingers tapping away at the screen. He’s in his own world, either chatting away with someone or playing a silly little game.

What’s a bit of fun? A little disturbance in routine? You’re always teasing him in one way or another. This is just another opportunity.

With as much nonchalance as you can muster, you stroll past him and knock his phone out his hand. It’s not hard, or aggressive, more like a cat pushing something off the top shelf.

He clears his throat. “Right. If that’s how you want to behave, dove.”

John slowly stands, smoothing the front of his shirt in a causal gesture. It’s far too calm for him, which means you’re in trouble.

As you pause just inside the hall, you step behind the wall, using it as a defensive barrier. The only part of you that’s visible is the upper half of your body. You don’t dare speak as John’s head swivels in your direction. There isn’t anger or frustration, but a tiny smirk, hinting at amusement.

“You have my attention, love” he purrs. “Thought I was ignoring you?”

You swallow as he takes a step forward.

John "Soap" MacTavish

Johnny is perched in front of the television, gaming controller in his hands. It’s entirely likely that he’s on with Kyle, perhaps even Simon. He has his headset on, talking rapidly as his character moves around on the screen.

Even while on leave, he’s playing games that resemble what he does for a living.

“On the left. That’s it.”

He’s far too focused on the screen to notice that you’ve moved closer to him. You wait on purpose, watching for an opportune moment. Johnny’s gaze is razor-sharp, tongue slightly poking out of his mouth as the screen hordes all his concentration.

“I’m down.”

The screen shifts as his character is respawned. Just as he returns, you lean in and smack the controller out of his hands. It clatters to the floor. His character is promptly killed again. As it respawns, Johnny twists to glance at you.

“I’ll be back, mates,” he says just before removing his headset.

“You,” he says, the shock turning into mischievousness. “You naughty little thing.” Johnny launches himself at you, jumping over the back of the sofa like it’s no effort at all.

You take off, cackling.

“Come here,” he shouts. “Putting you over my knee.”

Simon "Ghost" Riley

As you poke your head into the bathroom, you find Simon standing in front of the mirror. He notices you watching him but says nothing, going about his morning routine as he always does.

There’s an idea brewing in your head, a small torment, a little fun. The thing about Simon is that he’s sturdy and relatively passive about most things. He’s the stoic one. The calm one. Nothing phases him.

Which is why it’s easy to gather up the courage to be a little naughty—to act out.

Simon retrieves his toothbrush and adds a dollop of mint toothpaste. Running it under the faucet for a brief second, he brings it to his mouth. As he brushes his teeth, you take a small step inside. Simon doesn’t react, just continues about his business.

When he goes to put the toothbrush back under the water, you reach out, snatching the toothbrush right out of his hand. You pop it into your mouth and begin brushing your teeth with it.

Simon freezes, and then slowly turns in your direction. You cock an eyebrow, daring him to say something.

He doesn’t. Simon opens a drawer and retrieves a brand-new toothbrush, completely unbothered.

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick

Kyle lifts his arm, remote pointed at the television. On days like this, it’s the perfect opportunity to be a little cheeky. Nothing stirs the pot like poking at Kyle’s buttons. It’s never in maliciousness. If anything, it’s to get what you want, which is Kyle’s attention. And he’s always happy to give it when you’re acting bratty.

As he ups the volume of the rugby game, you pass directly in front of him, snatching the remote, turning the television off, and tossing the remote onto the recliner nearby. Kyle blinks, arms still raised and pointed at the television as if he’s frozen in time.

There’s a beat of silence, and then Kyle’s labored sigh.

“You know,” he chuckles. “If you want my attention, love, just say so.”

You glance over your shoulder as you enter the hallway. Kyle has a languid, flirty expression on his face. The remote is ignored as he stands, hands already grasping his shirt, removing it from his body. Taut muscle is revealed, and a sudden heat blooms in your belly.

You certainly have all his attention now.

Kyle takes a step forward, discarding the shirt. “Thinking we need a little lesson on behavior, yeah?”

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[mintfullyyours]

Simon "Ghost" Riley who refuses to wear underwear and every now and then leaves his fly undone just so he can watch the sweet birds (you) gawk at the full bush peeking out between the zipper. (you can't say anything lest you give him the satisfaction of letting him know you were staring in the first place)

[mintfullyyours]

Gnawing at the bars of my enclosure

TW: DUBCON

Squad mate Simon who walks in on you jerking off in the barracks. Instead of being a normal person and fucking off, he chooses the supremely weird route of criticizing your technique, before licking his lips and going, “Mind if I get a taste, pet?”

Needless to say, you’re more stunned than appalled when he gets down on his knees right then and there.

And when I say this man eats pussy like a fucking ANIMAL, I mean that.

Bonus points: he’s also the type of freak to steal the panties right out of your dirty laundry basket when he goes to leave, and you’re so wet and ruined you can only look on in such burning contempt that you nearly miss it when he says, “Don’t worry. I’ll bring ‘em back after a few loads.”

[mintfullyyours]

I NEED IT TOO!!!!

Just thinking about Amnesia!Simon. but also sorry if this has been done before... I'm new to the fandom but adore everyone here so much so I wanted to contribute.

Thinking about how your fingers tighten around the sheets as you sit beside him. The hospital room is too bright, too sterile, too wrong. Ghost — Simon —stares at you with blank, unrecognizing eyes, his face unreadable beneath the bandages.

It shouldn't have been like this. It was one mission. One last mission. That's what they always say, right?

Now the man who once knew you better than anyone now doesn't even flinch when you whisper his name.

"'m sorry," he mutters, his voice rough but distant. "I don't... I don't remember you."

Something cracks in your chest, but before the pain fully sets in, he speaks again.

"But I think I should."

Your breath catches.

Ghost leans forward, studying you like you're a puzzle he’s desperate to solve. His fingers twitch, like he’s fighting the urge to reach for you.

True, that he saw a pretty little thing walk into his forsaken hospital room and wanted nothing more than to sink his teeth into her bones. Even through the cotton haze of sleep, something pulled him to her like a moth to flame.

"You'll remember me, Si. Eventually. Or so the doctors say..." You're rambling now because it seemed better than the heavy silence between you.

"You'll remember me because... You love me." You swallow hard, "You always have."

The gold wedding band on your ring finger glints against the hospital light.

It catches Simon's eye.

His jaw tenses, his breath uneven. Then, in a voice barely above a whisper, he asks, "Did I tell you that a lot?"

Your heart clenches.

"No," you admit softly. "But you didn’t have to. I just knew"

Silence stretches between you. Would he remmeber you? Maybe not. The doctors never gave you a real answer.

Then, slow and deliberate, he lifts his hand and brushes his fingers against yours—tentative but protective. Like muscle memory.

Like something inside him still remembers.

[mintfullyyours]

Some thoughts about John Price who owns a hardware store in a small town post-retirement for a bum leg… That man could never be forced to not work. He’s not one to sit still for long, even with a small limp. 

Maintaining the place is simple work, easy on his heart and mind after all the stress of his previous job. Does he miss the adrenaline? The feeling of importance? Of course. So, he runs that hardware store like he’s still a captain. You bet those aisles are fully stocked and organized by product and alphabetized by brand. His book is always neatly filled out at the end of each day, reading glasses perched on the end of his nose as he records the daily finances and stock in a neat print. 

He wears kakis that fit just a bit too tight around the crotch, a red collared shirt that all the employees wear with a little logo that Soap designed over the chest pocket where John always has a pen tucked away. 

The biggest perk? The cute little clueless bird that comes in irregularly, needing help. Finally, he gets to feel competent again, needed by someone for his skill and expertise. 

The men almost never ask for help, too obsessed with their own masculinity to do that. Most of the women don’t need it, experts at the gardening or DIY projects they’re doing. 

But you? There’s some sort of home maintenance crisis you need help with nearly every month. John’s beyond grateful that you don’t just go on YouTube for tutorials or call a repairman like everyone else seems to be doing these days. He needs those doe eyes of yours trained on him as he explains the different types of hammers they have in stock and which one would be best for that loose floorboard of yours. He needs your sweet, grateful smile as you thank him for all his help.

He’ll get you the right wrench, doll, don’t worry your pretty little head. In fact, here’s his number in case you need help fixing your leaking sink. 

You need fertilizer for your garden? He’ll carry out the premium brand to your car for you and brush off your thanks with a simple “anytime, sweet'eart”.

The rest of the boys come in on their leaves to help out around the shop with stocking shelves and whatnot. Gaz and Soap cackle like hyenas the first time they see Price rush to your side when you tilt your head in confusion at all the different types of super glue. Even Simon is smirking a bit under his mask. The man is whipped.

[mintfullyyours]

Johnny is a greedy kisser

He’s like an untrained dog, humping your thigh while he slobbers and licks into your mouth. He’s so gross about it too, groaning and grunting into it, pinning you in place with those big paws of his.

He’s grabbing at your waist, fingers digging into your skin until you’re squirming under the pressure of it, that feverish intensity.

And he’ll whine and complain when you try to pull away for air. Like a needy puppy that’s too damn big for his own good.

He’ll let you take one breath, staring at you with those half-lidded eyes, glazed over in delirious voracity, and then he’s back on you. Biting at your bottom lip, cock throbbing when you whimper in protest—he likes when you put up a bit of a fight, likes cradling the back of your skull as if you’re not pushing at his stupidly burly chest and arms.

And he does it while he’s splitting you open on his cock too. He’s breathing into your mouth, drooling all over your lips, and sucking on your tongue as if he’s trying to suffocate you :( he loooooves making a mess of you

[mintfullyyours]

johnny doesn’t talk when you eat dinner.

at first you didn’t take offense to it. you knew early into your relationship that he ate like he talked. constantly. food was his mistress and he indulged in her whenever he could.

and you had no issue with it- your cook books needed to be dusted off anyway. you enjoyed kitchen lamp evenings in his arms while he kissed that spot behind your ear. cooking new favorites for the ox that lived with you. relishing the kiss on your temple and the “thank ye bonnie” that followed after every meal.

but in between that? nothing. it was almost eerie how quiet johnny got.

it got particularly unsettling after John Price invited his team and you to a dinner party.

last time you met his colleagues, they didn’t strike you as the conversational type. you dreaded the table silence, thinking that your chatter box of a boyfriend was going to bring his odd ritual to his captains doorstep.

but you were shocked to find he couldn’t stop talking for the whole evening.

he ate here and there, finished two plates, but it took him an eternity. kept them and their birds entertained with nonsense you didn’t pick up over your own confusion. it was like a switch had been flipped.

the drive home was quiet, and you barely registered his nervous tapping on the steering wheel until he cleared his throat and called your name.

“yes?”

“everytin alright?” he stops at a light and takes the opportunity to look you in the eye. “ye aren’t talkin’ much.”

bitterness flares beneath your collarbone. “yeah well you talked plenty.”

his brows rose before settling over his eyes slowly. “wot do ye mean by tat?”

you sink into his car seat, and the acid that you had been swallowing with your wine folds at the corners of your mouth when you speak.

“seems to me like you’re perfectly fine talking while you eat with them. I thought it was just a thing you did when you ate but now I realize you’re only quiet with me.”

Johnny’s brows draw together. “bunny im still not under-“

“you never talk when we eat together Johnny!” you throw your hands in the air to emphasize the point, “it’s just dead quiet. but you talk with everyone else! it sounds silly but I like talking with you and I don’t get why when we eat together it’s just-“

laughter interrupts you and for a moment you forget you were even upset. he was so busy laughing the car behind you honked for you to move forward. the car jerks and he laughs, before he sighing and shaking his head.

“bonnie, i don talk cos i like yer cookin’.”

all the venom subsides. “what?”

“john’s is jus’ fine, and so are tose restaurants ye like so much,” his voice still shakes with laughter. “but never as good as yers. puttin magic in it, I swear,” he looks at you and smiles, “i don talk cos im too busy enjoying my girls cookin.”

your face grew to be every shade of your embarrassment, your blatant pettiness and insecurity bleeding like a deck of cards. but he simply caressed your cheek and kissed you at the next red light, and assured you he’d try and talk more, but

“I cannea make any promises, not wit tha way ye cook.”

you didn’t question him on it again.

[mintfullyyours]

the church bells are ringing.

it's funny---johnny sees the resemblance of the sound of gunfire in them, of the ticking of a bomb, of the countdown on whether he'll make it out the next op alive. the church bells however, are not what have him on edge.

he's dressed in his finest military uniform, second pew from the front, on the left side---on your side. you look absolutely beautiful, always have, but that white dress really has ticked something else in his brain. your hair and makeup done to perfection, the bouquet of flowers in your hands steady as the priest rambles on about religious sacraments.

your soon-to-be husband seems...bored.

ah, that's it. you're marrying that prick.

johnny's run out of time. he foolishly always thought that you would just come running back to him when he beckoned. you've been best friends for years---even through the thick of his military career, even through the troubles of puberty. the villagers all called you twins as kids which turned into girlfriend and boyfriend as you got older.

and you'd both scream "no way!" and go back to causing trouble wherever it was due.

watching that thing tap its foot impatiently is doing his head in. god, he should've convinced you to leave him harder. he should've made you realise that he's not the one. he should've told you everything--

he doesn't realise he's white-knuckling his slacks until his mother is nudging him silently in the shoulder, casting a weary side-eye his way.

this isn't right.

johnny nearly turns his molars into dust. waiting for the ceremony's finish as it rolls out---white noise in his ears as he realises how badly he's fucked up. he can't ruin this for you now, you've been absolutely buzzing for months. but you've also been crying...but you've said he's the one...

the priest is talking---saying something johnny knows well. like in the movies.

he doesn't even finish the sentence before johnny finds himself jumping up from his seat, leaning over your mother in the pew in front, hands gripping the back of it.

your eyes go wide. johnny can't tell if they mean to plead him to take you away or plead him to stop. the words tumble out of his mouth before he can stop them.

"i object."

[mintfullyyours]

werewolf!soap cannot stand hearing you doing baby talk with your cat. it's not just the fact that he never got along with your cat in the first place, it's hearing you going "hello, my love" and "how's my baby doing today, hm?" and "does my little angel want treats?" and immediately perking up and going over to you, only to find you smiling at your cat like nobody else is in the house.

so like the true dog that he is, he's going to pout and sit on the couch with his burly arms crossed or he's going to pry your cat out of your hands and plaster himself to you for the entire day because he's so upset that your cat (that you've had longer than you've known him, mind you🙄) is getting more affection than he is.

[mintfullyyours]

creepy older stepbro simon who lurks outside your bedroom door, peaking through the slit of a cracked door, as he watches your mundane routine. You sense him before you see him. A line, a tether that pulls so slightly when he's around. Yet, he never emerges from the darkness of the hallway.

creepy older stepbro simon who keeps a pair of your pretty lace panties stuffed in the back pocket of his jeans. It was your favorite too. You swear you're going insane with the way your intimate-wear keeps disappearing from the laundry

creepy older stepbro simon who overhears you crying in your bedroom bc your shitty boyfriend broke up with you and decides to do something about it.

As sleep lulls over your body, you feel the weight of a man sprawl atop of yours. A large hand over your lips as your pretty lace panties are shoved into your mouth. A gag. The smell of something metallic — blood — fills your nose. It’s too dark to see anything. But you know who it is, it’s that tether.

You feel yourself grow wet with want and Simon’s hard cock press into your body.

You whimper.

“Shh” he coos, “I’ll give you a different reason to cry, love.”

The next day, you visit your local coffee shop with hickies blossoming all over your neck & see your ex — with a black eye and a broken nose.

[mintfullyyours]

intense and dirty #13 and location #19!

smut mdni

there was no character so i defaulted to john lmaooo | prompt list

john had your legs wrapped around his waist as you sat on his desk, a quick lunch visit to the base wasn't supposed to end up like this.

you had a few things to tend to after this and the time was trickling by as your husband kissed you like he hadn't done it in years even though just this morning you rode him like a cowgirl.

"baby." you whimpered when his lips grazed the column of your neck knowing each and every weak spot of yours, john's fingers slid up the bottom of your shirt to draw random patterns on your lower back.

the only sounds that filled the room were the rustling of your clothes and the soft thud of them landing into a heap on the floor. "no panties or bra?" john groaned, his thumbs brushing against your nipples causing you to thrust your chest out for him.

he chuckled and trailed his open-mouthed kisses along your shoulder. "you wanted this, trotting up here knickerless." you wanted to gasp and giggle at the words he used but couldn't, not when his thumb and forefinger were pinching both nipples gently.

john tweaked them knowing that pleasure was pooling in your belly like warm honey spreading from limb to limb, he was working you up while his other hand stroked and played with your pussy.

thick fingers spread you open to feel how wet you were.

"proper drenched for someone who ain't been touched." his words were thick with desire, he groaned low in his throat as john sunk two fingers inside you curling and scissoring bringing you to the edge.

he pumped them in and out, his thumb gliding against your clit with each thrust making you whine into his mouth as you clung to him. "louder love. don’t hold back on me. let me hear you." john urged.

you knew there could be people close by and they could hear you, even the wet squelching of him finger fucking you on his office desk if they were close enough to his door, a loud moan spilled from your lips when he hit your sweet spot making you gasp and jerk.

"there it is, innit?" john spoke with a smug tone with a grin to match as he watched you fall apart with just his fingers. you dropped your head back and gripped the edge feeling your orgasm rise closer.

his name was a chant you spoke softly as you arched your back thrusting your bare tits out for john to latch onto, his mouth warm and wet as he suckled on your nipple pushing you over the edge.

you cried out loudly fucking his fingers the best you could making him chuckle and slow down as he kissed your chest again making sure you'd feel his beard scratching against you later today.

john rested his forehead with yours and smiled as he kissed you, his eyes twinkling as you pulled away with a pout. "this visit was supposed to be lunch." you told him and got down to get dressed.

"i reckon I've just had it, darling." he shot back with a wink loving how flustered you got as you quickly got dressed hoping you didn't run into anyone on the way out.

[mintfullyyours]

cw: nasty simon.

accompanying your bluecollar mechanic boyfriend simon riley to his work, you do it more often than not, dragged with him to just sit prettily in the corner of the room while he works, staining himself in machine oil while changing it to some poor bloke that barely knows how things work, getting his shirt all soiled with black, absorbing stains, his gloved hands greasy, sinewy muscles pumped with the strain of working day and webbed over with swelling veins, as you glance curiously over every inch of him.

all these things make him messy, checking the fluid levels, rotating tires, repairing or replacing some obsolete parts in people's cars, doing a lot of long talk by explaining some of the curious ones what exactly he did right now, leaving simon's short hair damp with sweat that drips down his forehead, trailing over his angled neck and dipping below his exposed collarbones, shirt outstretched and worn, hanging low enough to expose his chest, right where it's dappled with darkening hairs and layer of softness.

flushed cheeks decorated with patchy stubble and smudges of soot that often mixes with oil simon gets on his gloves, leaving fat smears on his skin as he tries to wipe off the annoying sweat, and it's less for his own comfort than yours, because he leaves his working place here and there to indulge in your uninterrupted attention, walking in closer with his mouth clashing over yours, sloppy with sharp bites and insistent licking of his tongue inside, filthy with loud, lewd sucks that escape from between you, and he moans unabashedly, cock already strained hard.

simon get's you drunk off the taste and smell of him, smoky, sweaty and leaving a tang of metal in it's wake, something to savor when he gets back to work, hearing the distant rumble of another approaching car, leaving you yet again to watch and nibble down at your kiss swollen, spit moisten lips, bothered by the slick that now oozes out of your pulsing pussy to soak in your panties, and he sees it in the way your thighs cross together, lip tucked beneath your teeth, eyes getting that dazed, sweet look he loves to see.

he get's a handful of your perky ass after asking you to give him a screwdriver from a box laying on the floor, making you all but bent down and present your ass in the air for him to smack, small, stinging slap ringing out along with a squeaky shriek you get out, batting his groping, roughened hands away, but the guy simon talked with walked away for a short smoke, so you lean into the teasing touch, whimpering when his fingers catch at your clothed mound, circling, purring at you to wait just a bit more till his shift ends.

folding your body at the back seat of his truck should he close the service shop, your legs dangling in the cramped space, spread open wide and held tight with simon's calloused, digging fingers coiling beneath your bent knees, his body bowed forward, trapping you against the leathery seat and a closed door as his engorged cock rams into the hot, gripping clutch of your drippy cunt, shaking the vehicle from the force of his thrusts, your delightful sobs and mewls answering his molten groans of your name, splitting your hole beyond repair.

main masterlist. quidelines.

[mintfullyyours]

Masterlist

hello! I'm Mint (she/her); late 20s; writer & avid reader

things to know:

follows and asks are not from this blog sorry!!! I was in a different fandom and that account is my primary because I'm too attached

I write some nsfw (I'm so rusty); please read and heed the tags i add 

18+ only please

this blog is going to be primarily cod buut JJK might be sprinkled in too!

links:

my writings

fic recs

networks:

soap ghost price gaz konig

gojo

[mintfullyyours]

Soap with a partner who has glasses and he always hides them so reader is literally dependent on Johnny to find things. Johnny who will only give them back if you're good. If you listen to him. If you do exactly what he says.

"My glasses, Johnny..." you deadpan, holding a palm out to him.

He'll gently grab your palm with one of his hands and pepper kisses atop of yours. Unbeknownst to you, your glasses are in his other hand. With a devilish smirk, he presses his body against yours, caging you against the kitchen sink.

"I'll tell ye for a kiss." He smirks as you squint at him, "Make that two."

And like what're you gonna do? Deny him? No, of course not.

Johnny gets what Johnny wants.

[mintfullyyours]

Ghost who works out constantly. It's almost startling how often he's in the gym; practically claimed his very own corner and treadmill. Everyone thinks it's just to stay strong for his job. They take motivation from him; some rookies even began a "Ghost Challenge" that now has become a tradition with each new batch.

Except, he isn't doing it to get particularly strong or meet some insane feat of the human physique. No, in reality he has a massive sweet tooth that just won't quit and a little baker partner at home who is nothing but happy to indulge.

[mintfullyyours]

Ghost doesn't cutesy talk cats, he talks to them like other adult men and it's hilarious.

They're at a safehouse, and Ghost is listening to the radio, Price hears him talking to someone, and he's confused because both of his sergeants are conked out asleep.

So, he walks around the corner and finds Ghost sitting on a step with the radio playing and a stray kitten biting his laces while he talks to her. "I don't believe shoelaces constitute part of a balanced diet."

John just sits down on the step next to him and ignores how his knees click. "What's her name?"

"She's yet to disclose name or rank, but given that she's clearly smarter than those two through there, I'd say she's a lieutenant." He responds so dryly that John can't help but snort.

"Ah, I see. Making her way through the ranks at her young age, impressive." He leans forward to pet the kitten, flattening down the tuft of fur sticking up on her head.

"She's a hard worker, look at those paws. Grubby, she's been busy."

The kitten offers them a mewl in response, and he nods accordingly.

"She's stern, reminds me of Laswell."

That makes Ghost laugh.

[mintfullyyours]

simon riley is the type of “situationship” that breaks up with you/cuts contact before valentine’s day or your birthday so he doesn’t have to buy you anything. but he’ll be at your door the week after with a takeaway and six condoms in his pocket