Another COD Blog

But it's Johnny. He never gets worn out.

"Would you fuckin settle down." Ghosg snarls as Johnny nips at his ears for the third time.

"Just chase me! Come on, chase me!" Johnny pleas, his tail wagging as he let's out a little growl. Ghost ignores the defiant display. He knows the teasing little bastard is just - "L.T I'm testing you! Correct me, I'm testing you."

"You are fucking insufferable." Ghost snarls as he flops his full body weight down on the shorter man. "Shut. Up. Relax." He rumbles as he lets his body relax.

Preliminary trials show subjects unable to stop themselves from seeking pleasure, overwhelmed with their libido. The entire ride back to base is tense, you sat in the back, overwhelmed and panting and—

Wait. No.

You seem....completely unaffected? Well, not totally, you're snuggling up to ghost a bit, but other than that you seem fine.

"What?" You finally huff when price glances at you for the fourth time in a minute, "yes, the drug is still in affect, I know what you're thinking."

"Well then shouldn't you be..." gaz trails off, face heated.

"Honestly? I don't see the big deal." You hunker down further against ghost, most of your kit having been discarded on the floor to avoid overheating "this feels like normal ovulation to me. Seems like a skill issue."

....no one mentions the fact price got hit with a much smaller dosage a few weeks prior and literally had to be sedated so he didn't do anything stupid before getting to a secure location.

"I told you it's fine." He speaks around a handful of popcorn, only half-focused on the movie playing "what happened, though? You an' soap having a spat already."

"It's...it's not that." That tightness you've been fighting off all week returns, and you have to blink up at the ceiling to stop from crying. "It's uhm...it's a bit more serious. I've been looking for a new apartment."

That has kyle pausing the movie, fully turning to stare at your makeshift bed on the couch, "what? What the hell? Why? Are you okay?"

"It's uh– I don't—" you purse your lips together. It never gets easier admitting this, though you've always talked to Kyle about your struggles "I don't think soaps okay with me being trans."

Silence. Heavy anf oppressive while gaz takes it in. When he speaks, his voice is carefully neutral. "What makes you think that, man?"

"He gets...weird, about it, yknow?" You wave a hand ambiguously, as if that at all explains it "gets cagey if I do my shots in the kitchen even though it has the best lighting."

You begin to tick off on your fingers, "he stays in his room all day if I decide not to wear a shirt in the blazing heat. Hasn't brought a bird home in weeks, probably embarrassed of me. He even makes a big deal about my fucking boxers, staring at them like they'll attack! Even though he wears briefs around the place all the time!"

At the end of your tirade, gaz lets out a long, suffering sigh. He scrubs a hand over his face, "soap...is a fucking dimwit."

"...what?"

Gaz looks at you, seems to mentally debate something before sitting up properly. "Soap doesn't hate you, he has a godsdamned crush on you."

"....what!?" You almost want to laugh.

"Yeah. He never fuckin' shuts up about it, just ask ghost or price." Gaz snorts, seemingly over his initial apprehension "he probably acts weird because he's trying to he respectful and not pop a boner every other minute you're around."

Oh.

Oh shit.

"I uh....I need to go. Talk to him." Your face is burning, grabbing your stuff hurriedly "thanks for the advice!"

Could you maybe do a ghost doodle?

of course!! i hope you’re feeling better these days anon 🫂🫂

thought it’d be nice to share my simon interpretations with this!

i may be projecting but he is a HUGE magnum eater

simon please close your eyes for fucks sake

A quick quiz: how would you rate my mood right now based on my art?

rommy inspired my first musk kink fic what can I say. ask and the shall receive

cw: smut! frotting. musk kink. voyerism and exhibitionism technically ? pretty tame all things considered. The sergeants being filthy and ghost watching and absolutely totally not feeling anyway about it, definitely not (/sarc).

"It fell out of his bag."

Soap looked at the balaclava in Kyle's hand. Looked at Kyle. Looked back at the balaclava.

"It fell out."

"It was hanging out and I was walking past." Kyle turned it over, not quite meeting Soap's eyes. "It basically fell."

"Kyle."

"I'm going to give it back."

Soap held out his hand. Kyle passed it over without much resistance. Ghost had worn it during the day's activities, outdoor activities that left everyone wondering how Ghost wasn't drowning in his own sweat afterwards. Soap pressed it briefly to his face before setting it down on the mattress between them.

Kyle watched him, and Soap leaned in when the mask got moved down. Kyle's mouth was warm and familiar, unhurried, like he had all the time in the world. Soap's free hand found his jaw.

other soldiers will see you with ghost and the rest of the 141 and think that you’re embarrassed, hiding behind ghost’s big figure, thick arms crossed over his chest as he stands incredibly tense

what others don’t see is that you’re groping ghost

deft hands grabbing and squeezing at his body, fat and muscle spilling between your fingers as you crawl your hands under his oversized shirt to grab at his thick tits, pinching and pulling at his nipples

Ohhh nonny I don't think price is surviving to the next morning if he hits you.

If he comes home well and truly drunk, pissed enough to be yelling at you over something, so far gone that he hits you? There will he a split second of clarity the moment after the hit, realizing the boundary he's crossed, before he doubles down and refuses to apologize.

He yells more, gets in your face and tears you down like he would a soldier after a fight. Until you're physically shaking and flinching away from him, making price feel like a real man. Like someone in control before he stomps off to sleep.

Which leaves you, terrified tucked behind the sofa you bought with john when you first moved in. You do the only thing you can think of, face already bruising, and call the number john gave you "only for emergencies. Doesn't matter what, he'll help you."

"...ello?" The voice that picks up is rough, grainy.

"I...I didn't know who to call...." you choke on a sob. Terrified. "I don't know what to do."

Which is how, two hours later you're drinking a milk-shake in some diner parking lot, legs dangling over the bed of ghosts truck while he makes phonecalls far away enough you can't hear anything. You don't know what to feel. You love john, of course you do he's the man of your dreams but...but you've never feared for your life like that before.

It's fine. You decide not to think about it. Simon will handle it, he assured you. He even promised not to kill john when you had panicked and begged him to be nice, explaining that john was just drunk and he's usually never like that—

Yeah. Simon said he'll just talk to price, set things straight.