#Cod mw2 oc

[dirtfullofwork]

Comic soap you are very silly!

💗

[quiddling]

despite all odds he’s still my pookie

[annaphoenix1994]

Something in the Orange

Previous Chapter - Masterlist - Next Chapter

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I woke up to the sight of my ceiling fan – heavy eyes blurring my vision as well as clogged sinuses. Last night's events were vague in my memory, but I couldn't help but notice the lingering smell of Simon's cologne that I remembered from last night – it was insanely attractive, and I had to fight every cell in my body to keep my lingering eyes less obvious because he was certainly different outside of his uniform.

Although I can't deny that I would let this man do whatever he pleased with me in my bed, I sincerely hoped that it didn't happen last night. I at least would want to remember it if that was the case, or maybe not – because it would definitely make it awkward between us when we'd return back to Alejandro's base.

Standing to my aching feet, I couldn't help but be drawn to the lingering smell of fresh coffee. This was mine and Simon's usual routine at this point, either having a cup of coffee (or whiskey) at a table together, having mindless chatter about random things just to keep the silence at a minimum, but since he agreed to come back with me, our conversations between each other were slowly turning into little sneak peeks into the other's mind. Though our conversations weren't as deep, I felt like I had peeled enough of him back to know that he was emotionally unavailable because he couldn't find resolve within himself, and that was okay, because I was the same way except the only difference was that I was more vocal about it than he seemed to be.

Throwing my hair into a loose bun, I rubbed my eyes again as my bare feet traced along the wood floor that led into the kitchen, and a smile couldn't help spreading across my face.

Simon left coffee for me, the pot still on the warmer plate with thin sheets of steam surrounding it, a clean mug set alongside it, and I chuckled when I realized that he had found my favorite mug, though I knew it was likely a coincidence. When I noticed a small note written on a piece of scrap paper, I couldn't help but smile.

Gotta love this man's sense of humor... 

I took a test sip before deeming it perfect after I added ice and creamer, looking to my left to see the curtain that covered the back patio's sliding glass door was pulled open, and I knew that it was likely to find Simon there. He didn't say it, but I could tell that he liked to sit in isolation in the morning, seeming to just stare into space when I had a feeling that he was continuing to fight a battle within himself.

I stood and watched him for a few moments, wondering what he could be thinking about. Was he uncomfortable here? Did he regret agreeing to come with me for leave? Did he get too drunk last night, too?

It was when I saw a cloud of smoke shoot out from his nostrils before I realized that I had gotten more drunk than I had thought, because I never let my vape pen out of my sight.

He had to have taken it from me at some point, and I knew it wasn't because he was craving nicotine, then I remembered that he told me recently that he smokes when he's anxious. 

He didn't smoke once when we were deployed, and suddenly he smoked when he wasn't getting shot at?

"I see how it is," I scoffed playfully, watching that handsome face of his turning towards my voice, his strong jaw relaxing. "Guess you were anxious last night if you resorted to wanting a hit of fruity nicotine." I poked.

He smirked, shrugging his shoulders, those straight white teeth complementing his naturally tan complexion. How was this man so gorgeous for no fucking reason? Maybe that's why he covers his face when on duty...

"No, I cut you off because you were sucking on it like a pacifier. Can't blame you, though. Tastes good."

"Cactus Gummy Worm is my favorite flavor," I shrugged, the familiar taste making my tongue twitch at the thought. I knew it was bad for me, but apparently, so was everything else. My father preached that soda was bad for me, yet he drinks one in the morning, afternoon, and dinner with nine glasses of sweet tea in between, yet he's as lean as an athlete. He also said that drinking was bad for me, yet he drinks it before he goes to bed. He says that sugar is bad for me, but he has a whole pile of candy at his bedside because "if I don't have it, I go in knots," yet when I'd ask him if he's diabetic, his stubborn ass just says, "don't think so, and I don't give a shit." He says that the military was no place for a woman, yet he knew I could do it when I told him I enlisted.

The only thing I guess he was right about was when he said drinking coffee before hitting puberty would stun my growth, and I believe it, because I'm only five-foot-three and in my early thirty's.

"What?" He cocked his brow at me.

"That's the flavor of the juice that I put in it, Simon. And don't you look at me funny because I wasn't the one who named it."

He breathed a laugh at me, and I wondered if he knew just how attractive he was... for doing nothing at all! He had me squeezing my thighs together just by a look, yet I was too scared to make my attraction to him obvious because the last thing I wanted was to be rejected. It hurts and being rejected by a man like him would crush me, yet I couldn't understand why because we haven't known each other long at all.

My breath hitched when I watched him exhale through his mouth and inhale at the same time back through his nose. He did it so effortlessly, and I knew he had smoked a lot in the past or does occasionally, because it's very hard to do what's called a French Waterfall.

"Probably a good thing that you didn't have the responsibility for naming it. Could be much worse," He teased, his smirk quickly falling when I was completely oblivious to his pestering because I was too busy trying not to make it obvious. "I'm just messing with you, love. Here." He said, offering it back to me.

"You can have it," I waved him off. "I have a disposable one somewhere—"

"No, it's yours. I tucked it in my pocket when I took it away from you last night. Must've fallen asleep with it there."

I sighed before taking it from his hand, my finger gliding across the rough skin of his index finger, its warmth making me crave his body against mine, and I could smell the fabric of his jeans against my SMOK, the detergent mixed with his natural musk and cologne driving my senses wild.

My period must be coming up or something. 

I need to be spayed because this is ridiculous. This man handed me back my SMOK and I'm horny because my finger grazed his and I can smell him on it. Jesus!

"Simon, did we—" The words flowed out of my lips like vomit – I couldn't stop the invasive question as it was the first thing I thought of when I could smell his lingering scent on my pillow... in my bed, knowing that he had a room of his own. I needed to know.

"No," He shook his head, seeming like he knew what I was thinking before I even spoke. "I wouldn't do something like that."

"What? Never have sex?" I giggled, desperate to hide my embarrassment for asking something stupid, though the thought was nice. Obviously, because I do remember the way he guarded my purse and drink last night, tending to me in such a natural way that wanted me to have his children – to bring more men like him into the world, because every lady deserves to have a man be so naturally protective around her, even if they were friends or not. Regardless if women like me were strong and independent, I still craved to embrace my feminine energy instead of being used to operating in a masculine mindset all of the time – always worrying about my own safety as well as other women, always putting up a strong front to prevent asshole men from taking advantage of me, or being talked to like I was a dog from some men I encounter. Being around Simon was refreshing because not once did I have to feel like I needed to put up a strong front around him. He seemed to see me for who I really was, his gestures were gentle and supportive. Hell, even when he had to restrain me from instigating Soap, he was gentle with his grasp, yet firm.

"No," He corrected. "I respect you too much to let something like that happen. You were drunk. Threw up everywhere in the bathroom and you asked me to sleep next to you, so I did."

"Oh... I-I'm sorry, Simon. I know that was probably way out of your comfort zone."

"Love, if I have to be honest, I've been out of my comfort zone since I got on that plane,"

Oh, God. I knew he was regretting his decision.

I felt his eyes on me, like he was studying my reaction to his words before he continued, "But that doesn't mean I haven't enjoyed it."

"Really?"

"If I didn't mean it, I wouldn't have said it, love," He arched his brow at me, his tone serious, yet soft. "I don't mind coming out of my comfort zone once in a while."

"I'm the same way, I guess."

"You get comfortable around new people too quickly, love. That's the difference between you and me."

His words made me take an anxious inhale from my SMOK, mentally preparing myself for any rejection I felt like I was about to get. "Can you elaborate?..."

"You were comfortable with inviting me, a literal stranger, to your home for holiday. You let me stay in your house and got drunk enough last night that anything could've happened if I had ill intentions. If the roles were reversed, I would've never invited you in the first place, because I've learned a long time ago that choices have consequences, and I don't like letting my guard down to let someone in because every time I do, someone gets hurt, and not from me." He frowned. Yep, I knew it. I went too far already by getting drunk and making him feel obligated into taking care of me. Fuck, I'm so stupid.

"I'm sorry."

"Why are you apologizing?"

"Because I feel stupid now that you elaborated." I sighed, taking a seat in the open chair a few feet away from him. The air felt thin around us, although it was probably just me feeling like this.

"You shouldn't. I'm just saying that you and I are completely different when it comes to what you call a comfort zone."

"And you call it a boundary?"

He shrugged, "I guess you could call it that."

I didn't respond. Instead, I took another sip from my mug and crossed my leg over the opposite, my SMOK tucked between my mug and index finger, eager to take another drag in desperate hope of easing my anxiety. My stare on the landscape in front of me was intense, yet I could feel him looking at me, could feel the wood beneath me vibrating from the weight of his heel tapping the patio below him. It seemed like he was anxious, too, except he was probably feeling awkward instead of the same way I was feeling.

I felt his eyes on me for a few moments, finally saying something when it felt unbearable, "Take a picture. It might last longer."

I waited for him to be offended by my sudden remark, but he gave it right back. "I will when I get the chance. Might even wait until I catch you eating or sleeping with your mouth wide open like it was this morning. Surprised you didn't catch a fly."

"What goes around, comes around." I scoffed, glaring at him in a hateful way, but I quickly changed my attitude when I realized that he was purposely poking at me judging by that handsome smirk on his face. Those brown eyes of his were locked onto me, and I couldn't help but feel like I was embarrassed of myself. What could he be looking at with so much interest?! What is he seeing that makes his gestures soften around me?

"I'm the wrong one to engage in a prank war, love," He warned playfully, yet I didn't believe him. "Don't start a battle when you know you can't win the war."

"Yeah, you Brits said that when they tried to take over the Colonies, too. You see what happened there, huh?" I scoffed, teasing him.

"Wasn't there when that happened," He shrugged. "And before you make a joke about it, I wasn't there when the tea was dumped in the Boston Harbor, either."

"I know better than to joke about tea with a British man."

"I'm so glad you have common sense." He smirked.

"Surprised you know what that is, because it's mainly us women that have common sense."

He shrugged, "You'd be surprised. Met a lot of women that didn't have a thought behind those eyes of theirs. A good portion were military women, too."

"Must've been recruits, then."

"None of them were."

"Mhm."

"What's with the cold shoulder all of a sudden?" He chuckled at me.

"Just because my shoulders are cold, doesn't mean I'm giving you a cold shoulder, Simon."

"Can't handle a little playful banter, love? Thought you were tougher than that."

"I don't think you can handle a little playful banter."

"Sure, I can."

"Really? Because you could've killed me with that glare as soon as I said a joke about tea."

"I don't recall that. You're the one who got hostile, love." He teased.

"Just like you Brits, rewriting history." I rolled my eyes at him, watching him click his tongue against the roof of his mouth.

"Don't make me get my musket."

I laughed, "I've seen you shoot – I'm not scared of that."

"I've seen you shoot, too. Alejandro was right when he said you're one he worries about a lot because you get shot at more often."

"I can't fucking stand you!" I laughed with him.

"You can't. That's why you're sitting down, love. Keep running that bass mouth of yours, yeah?"

"I'll go and jump in the lake with my bass mouth, then."

"I wouldn't advise that, love. It's too cold for that. Wait until summer before you do that."

"I just might."

"Don't jump in, though. Might hurt your leg again."

I scoffed and shook my head, the pair of us sharing a laugh.

That was a start... 

[mentally-unavailable]

Cute little comic of ours and @zante-selachi oc [Cpt. Orion]

[ms-rampage]

General Shepherd: "Are you mad? You'd never survive this."

Kenneth (my COD oc): "Well, happily, neither will you."

General Shepherd: "To choose violence, here, is to declare war against the enemy." (Actual quote is 'your king')

Kenneth: "Wonderful."

[tiredbi-peach]

Today is Possum/Aspen’s birthday 🎉 🎂

Their official birthday is September 20th

Also I want to thank @pampanope for this lovely birthday art of Aspen!! 💜✨🎂

It’s so cute and i love it so much

[bearjohnprice]

maybe not in every universe, but hopefully a few

aka, j/p in a handful of my fav au’s. (normal, fem!, if they met as teens, if pav was an ex soldier and john was his live in caretaker / housekeeper, rugby / medic, zombie apocalypse)

[islandtarochips]

First EXPLOSIVE Impression

To let you all know, this is like a shipping idea for my crazy COD OC gal. AGNES.

*Alejandro and Kanoa were walking by to introduce the WTF with Los Vaqueros* Alejandro: Your team are very interesting, Captain. Gathering ALL of different Pacific's to join with you. Kanoa: Thank you, Colonel. I'm glad that your Los Vaqueros and my team are getting quite along. Alejandro: Haha! Same here, hermano. *while the two were talking they both jolted at the explosion in front of them* Alejandro: What was that?! Are we under ATTACK?! Kanoa: Uuuuuh...Noooooo. Come with me. *Alejandro followed Kanoa to where the explosions was at* Alejandro: *paused to see it was a woman teaching the Los Vaqueros about disarming the bomb* Huh? Agnes: *talking to one of the Los Vaqueros* Nah nah nah! You're GOOD! It takes practice! Kanoa: *smiling at Agnes before looking at Alejandro* Colonel, that's Sergeant Blast. Our BEST demolition expert. And I hope you don't mind her teaching your men of how to make or defuse the bomb. Alejandro: *seeing Agnes was enjoying herself with his men* .......Ella puede demolerme en cualquier momento~ Kanoa: What was that? Alejandro: AHEM. Nothing.

[koritea]

Hmm...

[dirtfullofwork]

Breaking the silence.

Featuring my bestie @islandtarochips oc: Agnes and my oc : Sal

Here’s a short fic for your OC, Ruz, and her friend Agnes:

Warning!! Angst! (?)

The small barracks room was dimly lit, the only sound coming from the rain tapping softly against the window. Ruz sat on the edge of her cot, her head buried in her hands. Her black bun, usually neat and tightly tied, had loosened, strands of hair clinging to her tear-streaked face. Her brown eyes, now red-rimmed and glassy, stared at the floor as silent sobs wracked her body.

“Ruz?” Agnes’s voice was soft, careful. She stood in the doorway, her usually cheery demeanor replaced with quiet concern. Agnes was a fellow operative, a steadfast friend with a knack for knowing when to step in. She entered without waiting for permission, shutting the door gently behind her.

Ruz quickly wiped her face with her sleeve, forcing her expression into one of stoic neutrality. “I’m fine,” she mumbled, her voice cracking. “I’m fine Agnes…”

“No, you’re not,” Agnes replied, sitting down next to her. She placed a warm hand on Ruz’s shoulder, her touch steady and grounding. “Talk to me. What’s going on?”

Ruz hesitated, her resolve wavering. She wanted to keep it together, to stay the unshakable soldier everyone including herself expected her to be. She always found herself vulnerable and…weak when she cries Bit Agnes’s kindness was disarming..

“It’s—” Ruz’s voice broke, and she let out a shaky breath. “It’s just been so much, Agnes. The missions, the losses… everything.” She clenched her fists. “I try to be strong, but sometimes it feels like it’s too much, I don’t think I can work here anymore it’s so overwhelming..I..” she chokes out.

Agnes nodded, her expression understanding. She didn’t interrupt, letting Ruz speak.

“And then there’s this constant pressure,” Ruz continued, her voice trembling. “To not show weakness, to keep it together no matter what. I feel like I’m going to shatter, but I can’t. Not here. I miss her..” she wipes tears and looks away

“You don’t have to do it alone,” Agnes said softly. “We’re not just comrades, Ruz. We’re friends. You don’t have to carry all of this by yourself.”

Ruz’s shoulders sagged, and she looked at Agnes with tear-filled eyes. “But what if I fall apart? What if I let everyone down?, one mistake and someone might die when it comes to the army..I made mistakes and I don’t think I ever learned.”

Agnes shook her head. “Falling apart doesn’t make you weak. It makes you human. And letting someone help you doesn’t mean you’re failing. It means you trust them.”

For a moment, silence filled the room. Then, Ruz let out a long, shuddering breath, tears spilling freely down her face. Agnes pulled her into a gentle hug, holding her tightly.

“I’ve got you,” Agnes whispered. “Let it out. It’s okay.”

And for the first time in what felt like forever, Ruz allowed herself to let go, the weight of her pain lightened by the presence of her friend. “Don’t tell Nigel” ruz softly joked. Trying to enlighten herself and to change the mood

“Deal.”

[imagoddamnonionmason]

Miss Nanette Oakley

A Noble Blood Aesthetic Board

[cynicalraccoon]

Knockout: Terry, look at this hot mama I found today. 🔥😩 

Soap: Whoa! Is that a Great White?!

Soap: Is that real?!

Gaz: Knockout, you having fun without us?

Ghost: Terry? 

Price: That better just be a really clear video on the internet, Knockout. 

Malia checked her phone for Terry's response, only to wince when she saw that she sent the text to the wrong group chat. 

Knockout: Sorry. Sent that to the wrong number.

She deleated the text and video. Then set it to Terry. A moment later, her lips twitched when she heard her phone buzz one after the other. 

Terry: First, Why are you that close?! 

Terry: Second, she's gorgeous! Much better than the monster spider you showed yesterday. 

Rowen: I question your tastes sometimes, Mal. 

Rowen: But she is pretty when viewed from behind a screen. 

Fey: Isn't that what all men say when watching porn?

Rowen: Women say it too when reading about or watching fictional toxic men. 

Terry: Only when they're sexy.

Fey: Amen to fictional sexy men. 

Alan: What's going on? 

Alan: I saw porn and then a prayer to fictional men.

Fey: We're making a cult.

Rowen: No! Don't include me in your fetishes!

Alan: A normal day, huh? 

Malia chuckled at her chaotic friend group, flopping on the bed in her hotel room. She was on leave for a week. It was a small treat to get away from the stress of the military for a bit. Of course, the stress would never go away until she either died or retired. 

Malia: Just showing them a video of a shark i swam with today.

Alan: Aquatic female fatale over here. 

Alan: Safe? 

Malia: Me or the shark?

Malia: Aren't I always?

Alan: Both. 

Terry: Mom and Dad are flirting again~ 

Rowen: 🤢

Fey: *sigh* young love

Malia: 🖕

Malia: fuck off.

The week went by in what semeed like the blink of an eye, and the day for Malia to return to base arrived; to her diasppointment. At least she had some photos to remember the trip. 

Digging the photos out of her duffel bag, Malia hung them up on the wall to join the already quite sizable collection of photos. 

They varied in subjects; animals, locations she had been deployed in, and even photos of a few locals.

When she was settled, the brunette changed into her uniform. She felt the persona of Knockout settle over her like one of the combat gloves she wore on duty. Well, it was an overstatment to call it a persona. More like a mask. A necessary precaution to seperate herself from caring about her teammates more than what was strictly professional. 

Malia shook her head and left, striding to the mess hall. It should be around breakfast now, so 141 should be there. If not, it didn't matter. 

As usual, the mess hall was loud when she entered. 

"Knockout!" She heard Soap's accented voice to her over the chatter. Looking over, she spied him at the table with Ghost, Price, and Gaz. The Scot was beckoning her over with a mischevious smirk on his face. 

She would admit, they were handsome and their personalities weren't too bad. Ghost's voice was a bonus too. But just because of those two and a half things, that didn't mean she would risk her career to spread her legs. She was neither one of those fanfic girls from the stories Terry had happily read to her nor was she a barrack's bunny. 

She worked hard to gain her reptuation on and off the field and have people take her seriously. And it had payed off. Besides, the chaotic and bloody enviornment that inspired trauma, corruption, power trips, betrayal, and assholish behavior wasn't conductive for anything other than a work relationship.

Malia blinked when Soap called her name again. She gave him a curt nod and got her food before walking over to the four. 

"There's that infamous scowl." Soap said, sitting down. "Was beginning to miss it." Malia echoed his action, shooting him said scowl. 

"You have Ghost." She said simply. 

Soap chuckled. "Not the same. I can't see his." 

Ghost, sitting across from Malia, rolled his eyes. With his face hidden behind the mask, the action spoke clearly of his unamusement. Deep brown eyes-just a few shades darker than hers-slid to the woman. 

"Have fun with your sharks?" He asked gruffly. "Or, your "hot mommas"?" 

Malia almost choked on her eggs when she heard his words. Price raised a brow, one side of his mustach slightly raised, while Gaze and Soap snickered like two children. 

She glared at Ghost, noting the faint amusement flashing through his eyes. Damn him. 

"Never say that again." Malia huffed, setting down her apple juice. Even with his voice, hearing him say "hot mommas" was weird. "And I did. Was relaxing. Moving to other topics now." 

"But I want to hear more about your trip." Soap prodded. "Where did you go?" 

"Who's Terry?" Gaz added, wearing a cheeky expression. "Boyfriend?" 

Nope. "Personal." She replied, a bit of bite in her tone. But they were not deterred. They had seven years to get used to her rough personality. Hell, aside from Price and a few others, they didn't even know her real name.

Soap groaned, almost leaning on Ghost. "Come on, Knockout. We barely know anything about you since you came on the team. At least give us this." 

"I'll tell you mine when Ghost tells his." 

Gaz smirked when the Scot frowned. They all knew Ghost was tightlipped about his personal life and past. It was like trying to pull teeth from a bear. 

Price shook his head with a soft chuckle. "There will be a day where you won't have Ghost to hide behind anymore, Knockout." 

Her scowl turned into a smug smirk, saluting him with her cup. "When Hell freezes over completly, Captain." 

A/N: I haven't played Call Of Duty. I only know bits and pieces of information about the characters. Why I decided to write this? Well, I wanted to test an idea I had to branch out of my comfort zone a bit and see if one of my ocs would fit in cod. I got inspired by the many fanfics on here and other platforms that I've read and liked.

[askuemki]

Wish I could have posted on Valentine’s Day (I’ll make up for it some time soon lol) but I was working on this thing…

I finished my very first animatic :)

Im posting on my phone, so I have no clue if the video will play here. But anyways!! This song means a lot to me resonating with my COD fancharacter’s lore.

If you’re curious about the programs I used, Krita for drawing the assets, CapCut for editing.

[ms-rampage]

Wrestling memes with my COD oc Kenneth 🤣🤣🤣

The North is Kenneth's task force

[tiredbi-peach]

Happy Matchstick headcanon after the angst I posted today

Matchstick actually currently has a fiancée who’s name is Moth “Wolf” Ripley who is a shadow company medic

That of belongs to @ur-local-snowman

And Matchstick is HEAD OVER HEELS for Moth. She loves her with all her heart and she considers meeting her to be the luckiest day of her life, especially since well… her life hadn’t been so great.

But meeting Moth really seemed to turn everything around for her 🩷

[bearjohnprice]

the first one is literally their dynamic so bad. pov price introduces pav to the 141