rip-cod-brainrot

[rip-cod-brainrot]

😎😎😎

It’s my fuckgning birtday. 28 is a new record 😎😎😎

[rip-cod-brainrot]

Because Price would just pinch the bridge of his nose and sigh

Ghost, during a mission that’s going badly: Right, lads. I think we are well and truly fucked

Soap, under his breath: I would be if you’d just give me a chance

Ghost: what

Soap: what

Gaz, frantically reloading: No. Nuh-uh. I’m not dying here. I refuse to let that be the last conversation I hear

[rip-cod-brainrot]

"why do you only torture johnny" "why don't you ever torture ghost"

fool. torturing the loud mouthed scot is torturing that sad british man in a halloween mask. it's torture thru osmosis

[rip-cod-brainrot]

FARAH AHMED KARIM call of duty: modern warfare (2019)

[rip-cod-brainrot]

I can't believe no one has drawn this! Or y'know- that I haven't seen anyone draw it.

Poor MacTavish is just trying to work, sadly he has an annoying creature to deal with...

Anyways, please ignore how ugly this is. MS paint is my beloved. I was just so sad that I hadn't seen it drawn, I had to do it, y'know?

[rip-cod-brainrot]

Ghost doesn’t realize crying does it for him until you’re in the kitchen of his flat, cooking for him for the first time and the onions have big fat tears running down your face as you chop.

you’re barely bothered by it, completely used to the burning sensation, bating away the mistiness with the back of your arm.

meanwhile ghost is trying to decide if he can convince you to let him eat his dessert before dinner. The desire to lick the tears from your face overwhelming, the need to find more ways to make you look so pretty consuming. Jeans uncomfortably tight as he stalks across the kitchen to find out.

[rip-cod-brainrot]

Decompressing

18+ MDNI

You and Soap have an arrangement for when you have a particularly stressful day at work.

Tags: sex toys, dumbification, degradation, ass play, power dynamic, dom!soap/sub!reader, p in v sex

You call him on your way home, voice hitting that tone he knew meant a rough one on the job. One too many muttered curses under your breath or a bit of a sharp bite to your words when talking about your clients. You were fully in your head and he smiles on his side of the phone.

“Y’need a night off?” He innocently asks, words casual enough.

You nearly freeze mid step on the sidewalk. Just the thought of what he was implying had a chill coating your skin and a weight settling low in your gut.

“Y-yeah maybe,” you reply, steps growing quicker as you hurry toward your boyfriend’s flat.

“Your call, bonnie. You let me know when you get here,” he grins, and you can hear it on his voice.

Soap is such a considerate man. A real martyr when it comes to helping you unwind from a stressful week. It’s so hard for him to have to fill you up with the new plug he just so happened to find online a few days ago. The ad jus’ popped up, I swear! And when he has to make sure that pretty little head of yours is blissfully empty? What a difficult job indeed.

And he knows as well as you do that your ‘maybe’ on the phone was a yes. It always is. And your throbbing clit is also aware of that as it aches more with each step.

Shifting from foot to foot, you wait at his door, but it doesn’t take him more than a few seconds to tear it open, the impatient bastard. He smiles widely, knowingly, at you and ushers you inside. The lock gets thrown and his hand takes yours. There’s no hello, no time to unwind or unpack more of your shitty day because he is already pulling you into his room.

“Lie back, yeah?” he urges, nodding to the towel he’d already draped on the bed. You comply, because why wouldn’t you? The idea that he’s going to take care of you was already sinking in, helping you shed your stress like wrapping paper.

Before you can even fully shimmy onto the corner of the bed, he’s got a plug in his hand, lube in the other. This time, he doesn’t ask you to get undressed or even take off your shoes, he simply pushes your knees up and gives you a raised eyebrow look.

Hold them there. You know that’s what he wants and you do it, cheeks warming in anticipation.

He covers the bright pink plug, makes sure it’s nice and ready, and then flips your dress up, tugging your partially soaked underwear to the side.

“Oh, you were gettin’ ready for me on the way over. Such a good girl,” he coos, pressing the tip against you.

Your back arches as thoughts pop out of your head one by one. Easing it in slow, making sure not to hurt you, making sure you feel it all go in, he watches you. Praises you. His eyes flick from your rolling eyes to your clenching pussy as the plug sits flush in your ass.

“How’d’ya like that, hm?” He purrs.

You nod quick, the fullness sending little shocks through you. “ ‘s good,” you manage to croak.

“It’s good?” He mocks softly, fingers trailing up to your aching clit. You nod again, a soft whimper falling from your lips. He chuckles as he toys with your sopping pussy’s entrance. “How about you tell me about your day some more, bon?”

You know it’s an order, so you really do give it your best effort, but when he slides two fingers in you after the first syllable, all your words find somewhere else to be. A moan takes their place and as you writhe, the plug shifts and turns, lighting you up with pleasure.

“I thought you had so much to tell me,” he says, fingers pumping into you with more purpose. “You too full to think? Too dumb already?”

“Mhmm!” you whine, body hot and sensitive.

“Shame, that is. Maybe you can cum once you get yer voice back.” And he pulls away, leaving you a panting mess.

You sit up on your elbows, expression more wrecked than you’d like to admit. And Johnny looks unfazed. Wry. He loves pulling you apart like this. Loves seeing his brilliant, smart, confident girlfriend melt and become a puddle of need for him. And you do too.

It’s why you let him order you to go grab him a beer as he settles onto the couch. It’s why you don’t mind the shockwaves of intense stimulation that rock you with every step. And it’s why you never mind when he grabs your chin in his hand and calls you his good girl or slut or you-name-it as he makes you sink onto his lap.

Tonight, his cock gets buried deep inside you as you’re told to warm him. Don’t move, just take what I’m givin’. And you do so good, sit so still as you’re filled all the way. The base of his shaft has the right amount of hair to drive your clit wild, but you bite your lip and try your damndest not to moan until he tells you to.

And when he shifts and relaxes back, he strokes your chest absentmindedly, peaked nipples nothing more than a fidget toy for him. But Soap isn’t mean. He sees the way your eyes gloss over, the way your breaths hitch and catch. His smirk returns and he sets his hands on your hips.

“So, love. You gonna tell me all about that hard day at work yet?”

You swallow thickly as he rolls his hips beneath you. Your ass clenches, pussy throbs, and your head snaps back as you catch a cry in your throat. The last thing on your mind was your shitty day. Whoever had pissed you off was long forgotten and you suddenly can’t remember if the annoying meeting even happened this week or last.

All you can babble out is, “dunno, I dunno, Johnny. Just lemme cum.”

He smiles wide, chuckling that devious laugh of his and his grip on you tightens enough to clue you in on what’s about to come. “Hm, I’m startin’ to think your job cannae be that hard, bonnie. Never have anything to tell me.”

But you don’t even really hear his words as he starts to pound into you from below. He’s not wrong, not that either of you want him to be. As you soak his cock with your cum over and over, the last thing you’re thinking about are your co-workers or boss. As he makes you bounce on him, your tits now pulled out of the top of your dress for him, neither of you are too concerned with the work days either of you had. And you won’t have to be for a while, as he fills your fluttering pussy up, whispering sweet nothings in your ear.

What a sweet boyfriend you have, taking away all your worries like that. A real saint Johnny is for you.

[rip-cod-brainrot]

Soap teasing u abt some insanely fruity cocktail ur drinking so u ask "do you want a sip?" And before he can grab ur glass u grip his jaw and pull him into a kiss. Literally forcing the drink into his mouth in front of the whole table, grinning when he swallowed and you lick into him for a moment to savor the taste.

Anyways ghost has to literally scruff soap to stop him from going down on u in the middle of a public bar lol

[rip-cod-brainrot]

Recently i have some time, so i played mw2… and fall in love ghost x roach… yes, so good

[rip-cod-brainrot]

My soaprice/soapghost kink unfortunately is:

Ghost: I sense keenly your intolerance for bullshit and incompetence and I want to hear your valid complaints

Price: I already see and feel the same things you do, and we will have the same enemies until our too-young deaths by their hands

Soap: I'm coming

[rip-cod-brainrot]

Previous pricesoap + current soapghost for El! Thank you 🚬🧼💀

[rip-cod-brainrot]

i'm such a slut for when a character is morally evil, but worshipped by another character as a deity of some sort. like i love me an absolute freak who doesn't really see the value in human life at all, and there's another, more masochistic freak, jerking off to their aura of inhumanity. a real two-hit combo of "whatever's wrong with this guy is clearly incredibly appealing to this other guy"

[rip-cod-brainrot]

Besties

[rip-cod-brainrot]

Blowing a kiss to Johnny “Soap” MacTavish is like pulling the pin on a glitter grenade—you never know where the spark’s gonna land.

It’s always a gamble.

You think you’re being cute.

You think he’ll catch it with a wink, maybe tap his heart like a gentleman.

One moment he’s beaming, catching it mid-air with dramatic flair like it’s a bloody dove, eyes glinting like he’s just intercepted enemy comms. Smacking it dramatically onto his chest with a proud “Ach! Right in the ticker! you spoil me, bonnie.” he’ll murmur, staggering backward like you just shot him with a Cupid .50 cal.

The crowd swoons. Children cheer. Birds sing.

The next time?

Public place. Full squad around. Briefing room. You blow that kiss and he catches it with two hands… locks eyes with you… then—with full confidence and zero shame—plants it straight on his crotch. Smack. Hands on his hips. Grinning like a menace. “That’s where I felt it, lass. Don’t lie.”

Everyone turns.

Gaz groans. Ghost doesn’t even look up. Alejandro claps. And Price? He sighs, pinches the bridge of his nose, and mutters, “For the love of bloody God, Soap…”

Soap just winks at you across the room like he did you a favor.

It’s 50/50 chaos. You blow that kiss, you’re playing Russian Roulette with your dignity.

[rip-cod-brainrot]

As it turns out, it’s quite hard to enjoy a nice date at a restaurant when your boss is a wanted man and you’re his loyal mutt second in command

Their compromise? Eating in Makarovs office together whilst he does paperwork, mostly in silence or talking about mission plans. It works for them because neither Andrei nor Vladimir are big on romantic gestures or over the top affection (Despite what Ivan would say he can hear from their bedroom). They just enjoy existing in each other’s presence, a small break from the chaos of their regular routine

[rip-cod-brainrot]

For your information:

GhostGaz Week: July 14th to July 19th [twt | tumblr]

NikPrice Week: July 21st to July 27th [twt | tumblr]

PriceSoap Week: (prompt unreleased yet) September 12th to September 18th [blusky]

Price Appreciation Week: (Currently under prompt submission period) June 1 to June 22, Prompt voting June 25 to July 12, Prompt reveal July 17 [blusky]

Unconfirmed:

PriceGhost Week Round 2 (est November)

NikGhost Week (est December or next year)

Nik Appreciation Week (est mid August)

[rip-cod-brainrot]

You know how speaking in a language that isn't your native one is really mentally draining ? Nikolai who has just been flying around all day, switching between several of the 8 languages he speaks, until he ends his day laying in bed, trying to listen to John talk about his op, but his brain just refuses to acknowledge anything. He mumbles an apology that might just be half in russian at this point, fingers rubbing at his temples as he's trying to fight off a migraine.

It's rare to see Nik struggle to keep up with a conversation. The man is smart, too smart, really. This worries John, who decides to order them greasy food and throw a Russian movie he knows Nik enjoys on his laptop for them to watch in bed. He can struggle to keep up with the subtitles tonight while he's busy letting his hand massage the back of Nik's head, fingers gently stroking his jet black hair while he feels his man relax in his arms.