#internal mw2

[ramrage]

and everyone ribs soap about this until the end of time the end

[ramrage]

noooo stop i love the call of duty yaoi

seeing fanart of the avatar aliens really messes me up it's like finding a fandom for the Pillsbury dough boy or planters peanut guy

[bluegiragi]

face to a name.

early access + nsfw on patreon

[libingan]

— temptations.

warnings: non-penetrative say gex, internalized homophobia, religious guilt and stuff, angst

a/n: im suck ASS at writing angst, but ive had this thought in my head for DAYS now so i decided to finally write it!!! thinking of adding a part two, but that depends on how many of yall will eat this shit up LMAO

pls forgive me if its bad im dogshit and writing but like non of my irls are interested in this shit HAHSWHSA i mean, we play call of duty mobile, but thats it, they dont care much abr the lore

commander phillip graves was a man of iron discipline and unyielding principles. he thrived on control, finding solace in the regimented life of the military. his stern demeanor and sharp gaze commanded respect and fear in equal measure. he was a man who believed in strength, in the rigidity of rules, in the necessity of keeping emotions tightly leashed. vulnerability was a weakness he could not afford, and he had built his entire life on that foundation. his devout upbringing and the stern teachings of his father had instilled in him a strict moral code, one that left no room for deviation or indulgence in forbidden desires.

yet, beneath the steel exterior, a single, forbidden desire gnawed at the edges of his sanity: his feelings for one of his soldiers.

you.

every time he saw you, his pulse quickened, his breath caught. self-loathing twisted in his gut. how could he, a man of iron principles, be so weak? love was a dangerous distraction, and love between men was an unspoken abomination. the teachings of his faith haunted him, whispers of sin and eternal damnation echoing in his mind. his father's voice, a specter of disdain and disappointment, reverberated alongside: "men like that are disgraceful." graves had built his life on those beliefs, constructing walls around his heart to keep out anything that might expose his vulnerabilities.

but you shattered those walls effortlessly. your strength, your determination, your unwavering loyalty—it was everything he admired in a soldier, everything he could never accept in himself. graves clenched his fists until his knuckles were white, willing himself to get a grip. he could not afford to lose control.

yet when you came to him that night, seeking guidance, seeking solace, something inside him snapped. the iron walls he had built around his heart crumbled, and in a moment of devastating weakness, he let himself feel.

you stood there, looking up at him with those eyes that had haunted his dreams. he couldn't resist any longer. with a trembling hand, he reached out, his fingers brushing against your cheek. the warmth of your skin sent a shiver down his spine. before he could stop himself, he pulled you close, his lips crashing into yours with a desperation that bordered on madness.

he poured all his suppressed emotions into that kiss, every ounce of his forbidden longing, his guilt, his shame. his hands roamed over your back, pulling you tighter against him, needing to feel your warmth, to drown out the voices of condemnation in his head. the room seemed to spin around him, the world narrowing down to the intoxicating sensation of your lips against his.

“sir,” you gasped against his lips, “can’t… not with... the door... open.”

a feral growl rumbled in phillip’s chest. he broke the kiss momentarily, his breath hot and ragged against your face. with a fierce, almost primal urgency, he grabbed your arm and pulled you inside his quarters. the door slammed shut behind you, the finality of the action echoing in the quiet room.

he guided you swiftly to his bed, his grip insistent and firm. as he pushed you down onto the mattress, his eyes burned with a conflicted mixture of desire and frustration. the room was charged with a palpable tension, every movement driven by a need to assert control and escape his inner turmoil.

after slamming the door shut and pushing you onto the bed, phillip’s voice was rough, almost breaking with the intensity of his struggle. “i need you so damn bad,” he growled, his eyes dark with a mixture of desire and torment. “but if anyone knew… if they found out, i’d be sent straight to hell.”

as he looked down at you, his breath catching at the sight of you beneath him—eyes wide and lips slightly parted—the thoughts of damnation and guilt evaporated. the sight of you in such a vulnerable state ignited an overwhelming, burning need within him. he couldn’t think of anything else but the urgent, consuming desire to be with you.

“fucking damnit,” he curses, hands sliding down your body until they reach your hips. phillip’s gaze darkened with desire, wrapping your legs around his waist, crotch pressed up against your own. a low hiss escapes him at the contact and he shoves his head into the crook of your neck to hide his pleasured expression, inhaling your masculine scent.

he tried desperately to imagine that he was touching a woman, hoping it might help him regain control. but as the thought lingered, he found it completely unarousing. the fantasy fell flat, failing to spark any desire. the only thing that stirred his pulse was the undeniable reality of you beneath him, your warmth and vulnerability making every shred of restraint and control dissolve into nothingness.

slowly, phillip began to rock his hips against yours, his movements deliberate and measured. he could feel the tension in your body, the way you responded to each shift. he savored the needy, high-pitched whine that escaped your lips, a sound that drove him wild with desire. the rhythmic motion between you became a shared, intoxicating dance, and with every whimper you gave, his own need only deepened. “f-feels so damn good,” he mutters through gritted teeth, soft grunts filling your ears.

phillip pulls away momentarily to make quick work of unbuttoning his and your jeans, pulling out both of your cocks from its confines. he swallows the lump that forms in his throat at the sight of your body, still fully clothed aside from your…

phillip’s gut churned with a volatile mix of disgust and arousal at the thought. his blue eyes locked with yours, a stark reminder of the gravity of your situation. he was about to call it off and throw you out, but when you wrapped your legs around him, pulling his hips down and pressing the most intimate parts of yourselves together, his mind went hazy and lost all clarity.

“oh, god…” you moan, and phillip feels a surge of conflicted anger and desire. he has half a mind to reprimand you for invoking His name in this chaotic moment. but as he feels the heat of your body pressed against his, the anger fades into a raw, uncontrollable need. his grip tightens, and he’s consumed by the relentless desire to be closer, to lose himself completely in the moment.

instead, he begins thrusting, maintaining his slow and steady pace from before.

and, fuck… it feels so much better. phillip struggled to contain the noises threatening to escape him, rubbing your cocks together as if his life depended on it.

you were lost in the moment, every sensation magnified and overwhelming. the way phillip moved against you sent waves of pleasure through your body, each thrust and press igniting a deep, euphoric ache. you moaned softly, your senses completely absorbed by the intense heat and friction between you. each touch, each shift brought you closer to the edge, your body arching and shifting in response to the overwhelming pleasure. you couldn’t help but surrender completely to the feeling, your mind blanking out as you rode the exhilarating tide of desire.

“i-i’m—i’m close…” you whisper, hands clawing at phillip’s back, clutching tightly at the fabric of his shirt. he only grunts in response, hips stuttering as he feels his own orgasm bubbling within.

phillip keeps his head buried against your shoulder, unable to bring himself to look at you. the shame of indulging in such debauchery is overwhelming enough, and the thought of seeing you reveling in the pleasure only deepens his guilt. he’s desperate to avoid the sight of your enjoyment, fearing that it will amplify his already unbearable self-loathing. his focus remains fixed on the intense sensations, trying to block out the reality of what’s happening and the torment of his own conscience.

despite his inner conflict, he could not help overwhelming tide of pleasure surging through him. he could sense the moment building, an intense and uncontrollable wave of sensation. as the pleasure reached its peak, his grip tightened, and he released a ragged breath against your shoulder, the crescendo of his desire manifesting in a shuddering release. the experience was both consuming and disorienting, leaving him breathless and momentarily lost in the overwhelming intensity. your body responded instinctively, arching and trembling as you reached the peak of your desire. the intensity of the moment left you breathless, your cries mingling with the rhythm of phillip’s movements.

afterward, he lay there, staring at the ceiling, a storm raging in his mind. what had he done? what kind of man had he become? he had betrayed his principles, his honor, everything he stood for. he turned to look at you, your face peaceful in the dim light, and fury surged through him—not at you, but at himself. how could he have allowed this to happen?

“get out,” he said, his voice trembling with barely restrained anger.

you stirred, confusion clouding your features. “sir?”

“i said get out,” he repeated, his tone as cold as a winter’s morning. “this was a mistake, and it won’t happen again. and if you so much as breathe a word of this to anyone, you’ll be wishin’ you hadn’t.”

you stood, pain flashing in your eyes, but you didn't argue. you knew better than to challenge him when he was like this. you gathered your things and left, the door closing softly behind you.

you quickly fixed yourself up, the weight of his words heavy in the air. with one last, pained glance at him, you turned and left the room, the door closing softly behind you.

phillip sank onto the edge of the bed, his face buried in his hands. the room felt oppressively quiet, every corner echoing with the aftermath of what had just happened. the intensity of his emotions left him numb, and he struggled to reconcile the fierce desire he’d felt with the crushing guilt that now consumed him. he stared at the floor, haunted by the memory of your face, his faith, and his father’s voice insulting him for the man he grew up to be.

after a long, agonizing moment, he shakily reached for the small wooden table beside his bed. with trembling hands, he picked up an old, worn Bible and a rosary that lay beside it. clutching them tightly, he buried his face in the pages of the Bible, his lips moving silently in desperate, fervent prayer. the rosary dangled from his fingers as he sought solace, trying to find some measure of peace and forgiveness amidst the chaos of his own making.

[milomossy]

A small gift for International Women's Day 💖

[ramrage]

priddy

Ghost is waiting for Soap to go on a date together. Drawing with and without a mask.

[last-starry-sky]

kinktober day 9 - praise kink

soap x f!reader

[MDNI - NSFW - MIND THE WARNINGS: 900 words, established relationship, praise kink, dryhumping/kissing/touching but no actual sex.]

tag list (lmk if you'd like to be added!): @slut-lmao, @mishaglass

You’ve had a hunch about your boyfriend for a while. Not that you thought he would hide anything from you. You just think that even he doesn’t know about it. 

It first piqued in your mind the day you and Johnny moved in together. He had (thankfully) roped his army buddies into coming over to help the two of you. While you spent the day moving boxes into the correct rooms and getting a jump on unpacking, him and the three other big strong men had focused on the worst part: furniture. 

With a little swearing, most of the bigger pieces had made it out of the truck and up the stairs. It was his massive sofa that had given them the most trouble. What started with just him and Kyle trying to figure out how to geometrically even fit the pieces of the large sectional around the tight curves of the stairwell and through the tiny doorways, ended with the big guy with the mask - Simon, you believe - and Johnny doing the lifting and moving basically blind while John and Kyle formed a chain of choreographers to guide them home.

When the last piece was finally dropped in the living room, the guys gathered to give one another a quick, brotherly congratulations. You, however, had snuck up behind your boyfriend to wrap him a squeezing hug. You ignored the sweat pouring off of him, and any potential embarrassment with praising him in front of his guy friends to loudly tell him, “Wow, baby! You did it, and such a good job! I’m so proud.”

That had pulled a chuckle from the three other exhausted men. They had given him a little bit of grief with small comments about “happy wife, happy life” and the like. You didn’t give your poor boyfriend time to respond, peeling away to pull some refreshments out of the fridge now that their work was done. Maybe you should have, because by the time you returned, the blush hadn’t fallen from Johnny’s face and the gaze that followed you was positively predatory. 

It was smaller incidents after that. You would come home to the dishes or laundry done. Without even thinking you would peck a kiss on his cheek and drop a small bit of praise. “Good job, honey.” “Thanks, baby.” “Looks amazing!” It was never over the top, and you don’t remember using it all that much. When you did, though, he absolutely acted different afterward. If you praised him for washing the dishes, you never came home to so much as a dirty fork again. Everything was washed, dried, and in military order. He even scrubbed down the sink. 

Weird, you thought at the time, but nothing out of the ordinary. It always took a while for couples to adjust to living together, finding out who was better suited to which chores and what-not. Johnny tended to have more time on his hands than you anyway, especially when on leave. 

No, what made you double take was how he seemed to come to expect it. You nearly ran into him while rushing out of the bathroom. You were just trying to get to work on time, but your beloved Johnny had stopped you, catching your attention to ask if you had noticed how clean the tiles in the shower were. 

“Yes, Johnny,” you had said, subconsciously pulling him down to your level with a wrap of your arms around his shoulders, your lips already pursed in a kiss. “Very clean. You did a good job.”

It was the groan that rumbled in his chest that caught you off guard. Sure, he was like that when you two were intimate, but just thanking him for doing chores? It wormed into your brain as you pulled away, giving a quick excuse that you had to leave for work. You thought about it your whole commute, all day long, and even on your ride home. As you slipped into bed next to his sleeping form, the thought you wrestled over all day had fully taken root, blooming into a terrible, terrible idea. 

Maybe you could use his desires to your advantage.

It didn’t take long for an opportunity to present itself. Johnny woke you up the next morning with a whine and roll of his hips, erection jutting into your ass. Instead of shooing him away and insisting you needed to at least brush your teeth like you usually did, you let him continue. He turned you on your back, warm hands running up your ribs while kissing your neck. A smile spread across your face. Oh, you did like that. 

“Baby,” you moaned, arching into his kisses, “Feels so good.”

You weren’t sure what to expect. If, maybe, it wouldn’t be enough praise or his brain wasn’t fully awake for you to take advantage. He answered your question with a groan and another roll of his hips, mouth opening to nip at your pulse. His fingers itching upward had you sighing out to him again.

“Make me feel so good,” you whined. And, like he was expecting it, as soon as the words left your lips he was rolling your nipple between his thumb and forefinger, tearing a sudden, “Johnny!” from you.

“Drive me wild with that shit,” he huffed, pressing a muscled thigh between your legs, giving you something to rut against while rolling up against your hip. 

“Talking?” you asked in a fucked-out drawl. Your brain was melting all too quickly into pleasure, not even having to play stupid.

“Tellin’ me what you like. When I do good,” he said breaking away from your neck to spread sloppy kisses across your jaw to your lips. The fingers on your nipple rolled and pinched, sending a spike of pleasure through you that had you shouting and shaking. “Keep going,” he sighed against your lips. “Please?”

[ramrage]

jfc soap stop booping your superiors

my knowledge of human anatomy and also boots is fuzzy but whatEVER. also idk how to draw guns, not gonna even try so instead ghost gets a mop. also ignore the floating boot i was working through some shit.

[narislvr]

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗ Ahhh, Thank you so much for requesting and of course! ♡ Valeria would definitely be the type to tease reader saying stuff along the lines of "told you they were, demonios," but would offer her support and comfort regardless because she simply loves you that much. This may be a tad bit rushed but I hope you enjoy! <3

── p.s : I accidentally deleted the original post I was gonna use to respond to the ask thus why it's posted like this-

req by: @cerise-on-top

Your hair was damp against Valeria’s stomach as she gently combed through it with her calloused fingers. Her touch was slow and tender, leaving on your scalp a lulling sensation as you continued your rant about your day's events.

“It was ten minutes, Vale! Ten!”

You look up momentarily from where your head was resting on her lap only to find her already looking down at you with a mocking, yet loving, grin on her lips. “That’s why you don’t leave children unattended, Linda. You of all people should know that,” She taunts, poking the tip of your nose with her free hand in amusement as your eyes narrowed at her actions. Of course, she knew you weren’t at fault, but she couldnt help the lighthearted laughter that rumbled through her as you swatted her finger from your face.

"I didn't leave them unattended, I simply let them play in their centers while I finished the screening tests for the last three kids.. I didn't think that they'd be able to drop the whole paint bottle tray on the floor the one second I'm not looking up!" You groan, hands coming up to rub at your temples as you recalled the memory.

-

With holiday break only being a week away, first semester screening tests were being done to make sure that the kids were learning the things necessary before the end of the year, and so far nothing had gone wrong. Usually while you performed these mini tests, you had your TA keep an eye on the kids in the room whilst you sat with your small group in one of the corner tables, but she was out sick and you still needed to get this last group done so you were responsible for keeping track of everything at once.

You definitely had this under control.

The kids were usually relatively calm and would tend to stay in their play area's while you were busy unless they needed help with anything but that was normal. And yeah, they could be a bit loud, but it was never anything so bad that you would have to turn your attention away from your task.

You definitely this under control. you had forgotten that they had had a sweet treat for snack time only a few moments prior.

Everything was going well, perfect even, until you heard the loud sound of heavy plastic hitting the floor and the yelps and giggles from the children in the corner of the room.

-

"Of course the first thing I did was make sure everyone was okay, but Vale, the paint was everywhere! Juan had paint all over his pants and shoes and thought I was mad so he ran away and left paint all over the rest of the floor. I told the kids to just leave it while I tried to make sure Juan knew I wasn't mad, but they decided they'd try and help clean it up and really only got more paint on themselves," You sighed, carefully switching your position from resting on her lap to laying against her side, head resting against her chest as she gently wrapped her arm around your waist.

There was a light grimace on her face as she thought about your story. She already wasn't fond of kids, thinking of them as nothing more than literal demons, inconveniences, leaving chaos with everything they touched, so the thought of running behind children covered in paint only served as further deterance from ever wanting kids. "No entiendo cómo le haces, I would've been fired the moment I heard the thing fall down. Probably way before then" She mumbles, earning a small laugh from you as you look up at her and send her a playful disaproving look. She only shakes her head, a hint of a grin on her lips as she raises a brow and meets your gaze, "Que te ries, eh? We both know I would've gone off on all of them. Apenas si tengo la paciencia to deal with grown ass men, imagine me with a group of 18 chamacos. You're doing God's work, Linda."

She presses a kiss against your temple, her fingers gently tapping a lazy rhythm against your stomach as you close your eyes and smile to yourself. You knew Valeria probably had a stressful day herself, it being noticeable due to the heavy bags beneath her eyes and the way she seemed want nothing less but to close her eyes and slip into some much needed slumber, but she still made time to listen to you. Your days were nothing compared to hers, and even if she wasn't the most outwardly affectionate with words, she still never failed to let you know she cared. That you were loved, heard.

"Maybe I should bring you with me to work next time my partner doesn't come in. Would definitely make my day easier" You murmur against her chest, a cheeky tone in your tired voice as you burry yourself closer to her. You hear her scoff and you chuckle once more, not having to raise your head to know there was a look of horror on her face at your suggestion.

"Ya mejor vete a dórmir, you're talking nonsense, chula," She exhales, feign annoyance in her voice as she rests her head over yours, holding you close.

"Was just a thought. You should consider it sometime."

A moment of silence.

"Vale?"

"Hm?"

"I love you."

"I know."

"You're not gonna say it back?"

"You know I love you. More than anything. Even if you do still smell like paint."

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗ translations:

── Linda: "Pretty"

── No entiendo cómo le haces: "I don't know how you do it"

── Que te ries: "what are you laughing at?"

── Apenas si tengo la paciencia: "I barely have the patience"

── Chamacos: "Children"

── Ya mejor vete a dormir: "Go to sleep instead"

[ramrage]

the “my man” is so beyond cute

I wanted to lighten up the scene & fuck, the way soap just watches ghost when he catches tHE KEYS AND THEN THE FUXKING HEIGHT DIFFERENCE?? IM HAVING A STROKE

[gofishygo]

ok we need an e/se asian reader in the taskforce. the first time they get offered tea from price, thinking that it’s hong cha . ends up spitting it out after they take the first sip and realise it’s fucking earl grey . who teaches them torture methods that were simply just what their parents did to them as a kid . who is generally pretty nice, but can scare the living shit out of new recruits if they have to (once again, asian parent skill) . who leans over to price and discreetly asks ‘is that just a white people thing ?” whenever ghost and soap are on their shit .

just them being silly would be funny as fuck should out to all writers who do asian!readers we love you out here

(some of tags r important, please check them)

[natelia-aldelliz]

more ghost!Roach with accidental necromancer Soap, their first interaction !

(please ignore the fact that i can't draw the same character twice lmao)

[boxofthings]

dare i say shadow!roach with ur gravesroach thoughts?

omg I was literally just thinking of this hdjshfjiwid you have no idea how excited I was to see you say this, Santi!! This could be SUCH an interesting sub plot

I'm just thinking of the aftermath of Roach's almost death where he's picked up by Shadows and specifically being looked after by Graves

I understand Graves is a cocky backstabber, but his relationship with his Shadows genuinely does seem pretty wholesome, I can imagine if he got a new recruit he'd be a very attentive mentor ( I rewatched the scene in MWII where Graves keeps calling out to his downed Shadows and urging Shepherd to send backup for them, like he def cares for his men)

I was also thinking of having Graves be the one to teach Roach ASL because oof think of that extra internal conflict when Roach has to choose between helping the 141 and staying loyal to SC and specifically the man who helped him adapt to military life post-injury ughhhh

Literally, any Roach-centric pairing has me in a chokehold. Angst for days, I love it.

I feel like this could go either two ways:

Graves genuinely does care for Roach's wellbeing (as seen in canon with his actual shadows) and develops a close bond while helping Roach recover from his injuries (could lead to some interesting dynamics between Graves, the 141, and Shepherd)

or, Graves is fully on board with Shepherd's plan to use Roach as leverage against the 141 and only pretends to form a bond with him (just more trauma for Roach lol poor guy)

either way, they'd lead to some good conflict

and if you factor in the whole GhostRoach focus of this AU, I think adding a GravesRoach sub plot would be extra juicy (think of Ghost's reaction when he finds out Roach is alive and all personal with the commander of SC)

[ramrage]

me since this stupid ass game was released 😞

[4me2knowandyou2wonder]

The asexual relationship GazRoach headcanon is gnawing at me again

Help

[xpaintedladyx]

Hot take but my god it’s driving me up a motherf*cking WALL.

Idk why everyone in a specific corner of the Cod fandom says Ghost is autistic. There’s literally nothing to prove this. And FYI I’m autistic! Just because someone isn’t vocal or exactly social doesn’t put you on the spectrum. If anything Ghost is suffering from PTSD.

I can’t stand fandoms when they decide to take something and run with it, to the point they preach it to be canon. Ghost staring doesn’t prove Jack shit.

You know a character that actually demonstrates autism. Laios from Delicious in Dungeon.

Laios doesn’t understand social cues, Ghost does.

Laios has an intense interest in monsters and eating them. Ghost has yet to show any sort of interest in anything.

And Laios doesn’t understand at all why some people don’t like him. Ghost is more than aware of how people perceive him and he doesn’t seem to care. As well as keeping himself walled off from others.

In the anime we’ve even seen Laios stimming. If you’ve watched you know.

In conclusion I don’t see any reasonable or factual evidence to say Ghost is on the spectrum while someone like Laios does. I’m not saying you can’t personally headcanon it but for the love… You can’t just say something that’s clearly untrue or has yet to be proven.