#this is all for my slow burn ghoap fic

[blackoutspoetry]

I'm in the process or rewriting ALL of the modern warfare reboot canon to fit my Ghoap agenda and do a fix it of mw3. I'm committing parts directly to paper out of certain canon bits and changing others I don't agree with, but for now, here's a part taken directly out of canon, word for word.

This fic will be available on ao3 as a slow burn Ghoap fic once Im finished writing. I've posted the first section here:

WARNINGS: guns, blood, graphic depictions of violence (exactly as it is in canon)

FLASHPOINT

VERDANSK, KASTOVIA

6 APRIL 2019 1500

The over chewed wad of gum was bland in his mouth and did little to soothe the tension in Soap’s system as he cast a glance out at the world beyond the passenger window, seeing it pass in a smear of colour. 

 Heart racing a mile a minute, his anger was only spurred by the comms in his ear as Shepherd's voice came through, confirming the worst. 

“Gold Eagle to Bravo-6. Security confirms gunfire and at least one explosion in the stadium with multiple injuries, over… “

He watches the world in the muted grey of Autumn fade from obliviousness to panic as they neared the stadium, seeing the world descending into chaos around them. 

Price reached to press the button on his mic, face setting into a hard look as he yanked the wheel hard for the upcoming turn. “Copy, we’re inbound now.” 

Shepherd’s response was instant. 

“Be advised, Makarov and his men may still be inside. If he’s there, you bring him out– alive.”

Soap felt uneasy about letting the man go with his life, but pushed the concern down, silencing the thought with his own acknowledgement of the order, but it did nothing to ease the growing concern as he caught onto the shifting energy on the street around them. 

“Roger that. Where’s medical?” 

Soap couldn’t make out any words from the civilians outside or let his eyes linger long enough to analyse any of the reactions properly, but they were close enough to the stadium that he knew they must have heard something.

“First responders will not enter until the scene is clear. The third floor VIP lounge may be Makarov’s next target.” Shepherd’s voice was clear and calm as he spoke, but it instantly added another thread of anxiety to the mix and Soap can’t stop himself from cursing as Price took another left, narrowly dodging past a truck on the corner and putting them on a street funnelling to the stadium dead ahead. 

“You said it, son,” Shepherd acknowledges Soap over comms. “Ghost and I are ten mikes out. Let's bag this bastard. Out here.” 

The high rise office blocks seemed to shuffle them forward and usher them out to the open air, now enough for Soap to smell the acrid smoke emanating from the stadium in a rolling curtain of grey heat.

A car swerves onto the road and shoots past them at a speed as they merge onto the main road, panic palpable in the erratic driving of those still on the road and fleeing the scene.

The fear ripples through the crowd like a curtain of panic holding the world in a vice grip and descending over the street like a dire blanket of fear. Even the dying leaves on the trees seemed more dead and wilted into themselves with an unseen oppression, like an incursion of an unknown force pushing hostile tendrils into the ground that the earth itself, and by extension, the trees on the sidewalk, seemed sharp and alert to the whims of its enemy. 

The bleak sky was barren like the sun had withdrawn into itself to make way for the undulating spire of smoke curling into the sky before them from the blazing inferno that leaked from the burst windows of the structure, weeping fire. 

Unconsciously, his hand went for the chain around his neck, but it was obscured by his tactical vest and the lack of that comfort made him feel like he was floating in a sea of disarray with no anchor point. 

“Makarov threatened the airport and hit the stadium instead,” Soap seethes through gritted teeth. Even Sergeant Burns, who had been quiet up until that point, had something to say to the carnage. 

“He’s a fuckin’ madman.” 

A row of orange boom gates that was meant to be blocking off the entrance to the stadium’s underground parking was raised for the hurried exit of the cars, now descended into complete disarray as a car drives straight out through the wrong gate into the incoming lane and almost collides with their vehicle. 

“Fuckin’ hell!” Price cursed as he swerved aside for it, missing it by a hair’s breadth and gunning it to the middle gate before another car could block them off. 

“Civilians are everywhere,” Burns noted, sounding as thoroughly shaken as Soap felt. 

Soap resists the urge to look back at the blaze beside him as Price turns down the ramp to the parking lot. 

“Alright,” Price begins, gathering their collective attention. “Check your shots. We’ll have a lot of unknowns inside.” 

Civilians are fleeing on foot and he doesn’t stop when a man trips on the incline of the road and scuttles out of the way before an oncoming car has the chance to plough him over. 

“And Makarov?” Soap risks a glance back over to the stadium, now towering over them like a lit funeral pyre. 

“You heard the order. ROE still stands. We take him alive.” 

Soap jolted when two cars collided in front of them and glass skittered across the junction. Price had been so fixated on the collision that he didn't notice the civilian rushing in front of them until Soap shouted at him to stop. 

There’s a heavy thud against the hood of the car and for a sickening moment, Soap worries they’ve hit her, but when she stands up unharmed, he breathes a sigh of relief. 

Irritably, Price gestures wildly for her to get out of the road. “Get out of here! Go!” 

They watch her stumble disoriented from their path before shooting off ahead into a dark tunnel. Cars piled up on the outgoing lane and Soap shouts for Price to watch it when a desperate soul reaching the back of the row decides to take a risk and turn onto the incoming lane, narrowly missing them again.

“Close one,” Soap says, trying to make sense of the cacophony of panic surrounding them as he watches for more civilians on foot and desperate cars. 

“We’re still in one piece,” Price concedes mirthlessly as he turns off from the incoming tunnel into a wider section that splits off to a higher floor. 

“Watch it!” Burns cries from the back. 

The wailing of an ambulance siren cuts through the panic and the oncoming glow of a pulsing red light gives them enough of a warning to get out of the way as it rushes past them and they turn up onto the ramp to the higher floor. 

For a moment, Soap has the chance to think its blessedly empty, save for a parked ambulance in his peripheral vision until he witnesses a speeding car mow down a civilian, letting the rest of the group erupt into panic as he reversed and rerouted. 

Soap curses as he glances back at the contorted form of the man as Price drives them past, determination set in his face. 

They can’t afford to go back for him now, probably dead on impact by the look of it, but that wasn’t their concern now. 

“This is chaos,” Burns says. 

“Yeah, it's what Makarov wants,” Price confirms. 

Their concern was Makarov and getting that sick son of a bitch behind bars. Soap sends up a quick prayer for the man now, knowing he’ll forget to do it when they’re out of here and he has time to think, it will be lost to the chaos of the day.

[moody-alcoholic]

Coffee

I've had this story saved for a while now trying to muster the confidence to post it today is the day! I'm finally jumping straight out of my comfort zone and into new territory wish me luck... Can you tell I'm bad a naming things, title coming soontm... when I think of one.

DISCLAMER: This is my first time writing a reader fic so please be gentle. It is also my first time writing a fic that is pretty much going to be centered around smut. I am also really bad at writing Soap's accent my dyslexic brain freaks out too much, I will strive to improve though XD

Summary: Ghoap x Reader, throuple. Slow burn (sorry but not sorry). 3.7k words. Reader is female (she/her), army nurse, non descript physical features, names used: Ashe. Am I doing this right?? CW: This chapter is SFW, but in future it will get spicy so for my own sanity +18 MDNI mentions of sex, descriptions of injuries.

Part 2 Masterlist

Phew, Enjoy <3

“Sergeant MacTavish?” You call into the hallway there are some soldiers waiting, you look up and down to see if anyone reacts to the name. 

“Sergeant John MacTavish?” You call again this time a little louder.

“Here lass!” A man calls hobbling down the hall towards you. Your breath catches in your throat, even being on a base surrounded by plenty of hunky men you had not seen anyone quite like him. His broad shoulders, thick arms and tanned skin. His fluffy mohawk, shining almost bronze in the florescent lights. To top it all off his cheeky grin is sending butterfly's racing in your stomach.

He’s being followed by what seems like an even bigger man trying to help him wobble his way down the hall, his sharp eyes focused on making sure his friend doesn’t topple over. The rest of his face is covered by a balaclava with a skull printed on it. It makes you shiver as they walked towards you. You move to the side of the door letting them in. John finds his way to a chair while the other man stands behind him. You close the door to the room going back over to the desk sitting down and opening his file on the computer. 

“Twisted your ankle during an exercise?” You look past the monitor at him. 

“Aye, I’m fine but LT here insisted I get it checked out.” He replies with a smile on his face thumbing behind at the man looming over him. Christ even his accent is sexy.

“And I’m staying to make sure you do get it checked out properly instead of flirting your way to a few paracetamol and a cold compress.” The man said, his voice was deep, commanding. You could feel heat rush to your cheeks at the mention of flirting, but you push the thought away trying to remain professional. 

“It is good to get it checked even if it is just a sprain.” You move your chair round so you’re sitting in front of him. 

“Do you mind if I take your boot off?”

“I got it lass,” he winked bending down to untie the laces, and pulled the boot off. You could tell by the scrunching of his face and the grunt he made that this was causing him pain. He put his foot back down on the floor his ankle did look swollen. 

“Have you tried ice or a cold compress?” You ask. 

“Aye,” he replies you hear the man behind him sigh.

“What he means by that is he tried for about 5 minutes before he was back on his feet again.” John huffed at being called out. 

“You’ll need to try for longer then that,” you say acknowledging the tall man behind John who now had his arms crossed. You pick the foot up watching John try to hide the pain, you only lift it up a little before decided it was going to need an x-ray. 

“I will book an x-ray for you in the mean time if you go into the ward they will give you an ice pack and a bed.” You explain moving your chair back to the desk so you could book the appointment. 

“Do you want any pain relief?” You ask. 

“Na, I can barely feel it.” He says a cheeky smile on his face. You nod typing the report and waiting for the paper to print out. 

“I can give you some crutches you really should keep your weight off it.” You stand up going to the printer.

“It’s okay love I’ve got my own crutch here.” He says hopping up on his foot and wrapping his arm round the other man. You smile handing the paper to him.

“Give this to the nurse on the ward.” You say rushing in front of them to open the door. 

“Thanks love,” he says beaming at you as he gets lead out by his friend who looks back at you and nods. You close the door to the room taking a breath out. What the hell was that? You find a smile forming on your lips as your heart flutters in your chest. 

————————

Two days later you find yourself as the night nurse. Not that you mind it’s normally the quieter part of the job and there is no one in the ward so you don’t even have to worry about trying to look busy. About an hour into your shift someone comes through the doors. You recognise him immediately as John, from a few days ago with the sprained ankle. He’s hobbling around on crutches now, his friend is not with him ether. 

“Hello sweetheart!” He says his voice full of energy, that ever present smile on his face. 

“Hey, John did you need something?” you ask coming round from behind the nurses station. 

“Yeah actually, I was told to come pick up something…” He trails off. “Now what was it?” 

“Painkillers?” You ask. 

“No it begin with a T I think.” He looks up to the corner of the room like he is trying to think hard about it.

“A tubigrip?” You ask.

“That’s the one lass!” He says snapping his fingers, you can’t help but laugh at his enthusiasm. 

“Sit up on the bed I’ll get you one.” You say turning to the cupboard of supplies. You pick out two sizes then walk back over to John already leaning down to untie his boots. 

“I can do that.” You insist waving his hands away, he sighs but gives in leaning back on the bed. You carefully remove the boot looking back and checking to see how he reacts. He’s ether getting better at hiding it or painkillers have helped. He only winces when you have to pull the boot over his heel.

“What did the doctor say?” You ask. 

“Sprained, I’ve been stuck behind a desk for the last two days.” He makes a pouting face as you pull his sock off. 

“You should sleep with it elevated that will help with the swelling.” You say pulling his trouser leg up. The swelling has definitely improved since you saw it last. 

“I bet with a few more days of rest you’ll be back on your feet like nothing happened.” You smile at him.

“I hope so lass, my unit’s being shipped out at the end of the week.” He says as you pull the tubigrip over his foot and ankle.

“Oh yeah anywhere fun?” You ask. 

“Ah ‘fraid I can’t tell you that love.” He winks, you can't tell if he’s joking or not but you pull his trouser leg back down.

“You can keep your boot on but not too tight, and keep it elevated.” You explain putting his boot back on and loosely tying the laces. 

“What painkillers are you taking?” You ask as he swivels his body round so his feet are hanging off the bed. 

“Paracetamol, oh and the doc said I could take ibuprofen too, but I don’t need it I can barely feel a thing.” You look back at him chuckling, his arms flex as he pushes himself up with the crutches. You feel your cheeks heat up again.

“You should take the ibuprofen at least it will also help with the swelling.” You force out, leaning over him to pick up his sock from the bed. He smells good, must be his aftershave. You hold the sock out for him and he sheepishly takes it out your hand shoving it in his pocket. You move back so he can hop out the ward back to the nurses station. 

“Well it was nice seeing you again…” He trails off like he’s trying to remember your name his eyes squinting. You cover your badge teasing him. He chuckles. 

“LT is the one with the better memory.” He says turning his body to the doors. 

“Ashe.” You reply uncovering your badge.

“Well then Ashe it was nice to see you again.” His smile is infectious and you could have sworn he winked at you. 

“Good luck on your deployment,” You call back as he pushes his way through the doors. 

“I don’t need luck.” He winks at you. Okay that time it was definitely a wink and it made the butterflies come back to your belly. You sit down at the nurses station with a smile on your face and heat in your cheeks.

————————

One week later you get a text out of the blue.

Hey, this Ashe? 

It’s an unknown number you’re tempted to ignore it, but something inside you forces you to answer it. 

Yeah, who’s this?

It’s only seconds later a response comes.

It’s Johnny, with the fucked up ankle. 

Holy shit, you choke on your drink, coughing as the liquid has now gone in your windpipe. You take a few more sips trying to sooth it. How the hell did he get my number? 

How did you get my number?

From a friend of a friend..

You can’t help but chuckle, is this real? Did he make his deployment? You realise you haven’t seen him round the base in a few days, and you would know you’ve been looking. Sometimes without even realising it any time you see a broad tanned soldier hairs stand up on the back of your neck and you crane to look only to be disappointed. His friend with the skull mask, you found out his name was lieutenant Riley. You know you definitely hadn’t seen him. 

Anyway…Want to get coffee? 

Such a simple request has your heart thumping in your chest. 

When? 

You reply without thinking, your leg starts to jump under the table nervousness washing over you. Coffee? With me? Why?

How about that coffee place just outside the base, tomorrow 1300?

Your heart is pounding now your throat dry. Is this a date? 

Sure :)

Was the smiley too much, you put your phone down embarrassed. You hear it buzz picking up the courage to look 

See ya there :)

You let out a breath your leg stops jumping. Coffee with Johnny, surely it’s just a friendly thing to say thank you for helping with his ankle. It doesn't matter if it is or not but he’s on your mind for the rest of the day until you go to bed. 

————————

You show up early, the butterfly's have not left your stomach since the moment you woke up. You managed to switch your shift with another nurse so you could be here instead. Coffee sounded like too much especially with your nerves you opted for a tea. You find yourself checking your watch almost every second, your back is to the door each time it opens your heart stops and you turn to look. Jesus calm down woman, it’s just coffee. You try to tell yourself. A few minutes later and a few sips of hot tea, you start to calm. 

“Hey there lass.” You hear the familiar Scottish accent behind you. You turn in your chair to see him. He’s smiling of course he is he sits down in the chair opposite you. His skin looks darker or maybe it’s just the light in the room, his hair looks like it’s been freshly groomed. You get a proper look at his eyes, a beautiful deep blue. You can’t help finding yourself smiling.

“Hey,” You reply. He chuckles almost like he can feel the nervousness radiating off you. 

“What’s your poison?” He asks pointing at your cup. 

“Eh tea.” You reply realising you’ve almost finished it. 

“Typical brits,” he sighs playfully as he gets up. 

“Let me get it, you should rest your ankle.” You say quickly stopping him in his tracks. 

“Don’t worry love it’s been solid for a few days now.” You sigh that’s good at least. He gets up walking over to the counter. You take out a deep breath, your head following him as he orders beaming at the staff his accent cutting through the mumbling of the other patrons. You look back at your tea finishing it off as Johnny comes back with the drinks. He smiles as he sits down putting the tea in front of you. 

“Thank you,” You say warming your hands on the new mug. 

“Ne problem don’t you worry about it, I’m supposed to be treating you,” You feel yourself blushing again as that cheeky look comes back on his face.  

“Why?” You blurt out before you can stop yourself. He chuckles.

“You helped me with my ankle, I wanted to say thank you.” He says as a matter of fact. 

“It’s my job,” you reply shrugging, feeling a rush of embarrassment washing over you. “You could have just caught me on the base.”

“Yeah,” Now his cheeks looked like they were changing to a gorgeous shade of pink. 

“Did you manage to get deployed?” You ask trying to move the subject on. He smiles leaning back in his chair.

“Na, whole thing got cancelled, I spent a few days in London.” He says smiling.

“Was Riley-I mean-lieutenant Riley was he with you?” You blurt out sipping your tea so the word vomit would stop. 

“Simon?” Johnny asked his smile getting bigger. “Oh yeah we spend a lot of time together.”

“Huh, that’s nice you must be a tight unit.” You say calming yourself. So his name was Simon, Simon Riley.

“What about you what have you been up to?” He leans forward sipping his coffee.

“Work, nothing really.” You smile.

“When’s your next leave?” He asks. 

“Two weeks.” He nods like he's thinking about something his lips pressed together. He leans forward on the table more.

“There was another reason I wanted to see you.” He says, his smile disappearing. You hold your breath in anticipation of what he’s going to say next. He takes a breath in for a second looking you in the eyes.

“I really wanted to see you again.” He said, okay that’s not bad. You almost want to laugh at how worked up you got yourself. He just wants to say thank you, he’s buying you coffee because he want’s to be nice. You helped him with his ankle. Now he’s asking if you’re single.

Wait what?    

“Single?” You ask, your brain trying to comprehend what you missed. He nods his smile coming back, at least that puts you at ease. 

“Yeah, I’m single. Are you single?” It seems like the appropriate time to ask him too. His lips are pressed together again like he’s trying to formulate a sentence in his head. 

“It’s complicated,” A cheeky smile forms on his lips as he sips his coffee. 

“What do you mean it’s complicated? Do you have a girlfriend?” You ask frowning at him.

“No.” He replies flatly.

“A boyfriend?” He puts his coffee down. 

“I wanted to see you cos I’ve spent the last week tryin’ te get ya out my head and it’s impossible.” He said leaning forward. You blush at his words. 

“What do you mean it’s complicated though?” Your heart beating faster in your chest you can’t tell if it’s the caffeine from the tea or the words from Johnny’s mouth but it was getting harder to concentrate. 

“I’m married to my work.” He says leaning back. You sigh, this has happened before. ‘I can’t be with you the job is too important’ It’s all too familiar, finding love when every one around you is throwing their lives on the front line is near impossible. 

“I get it,” You say trying not to hide your disappointment. 

“C’mon lass it don’t mean we can’t still be mates.” He says it sounds almost like a plea. You feel sad and drained, you didn’t know what to expect from the meeting but you weren't expecting to feel like you just got dumped by someone you didn’t even date. You look at Johnny his blue eyes look sad, he grips the handle of his coffee mug. 

“It’s okay, you seem like a nice guy but I know how this goes. We’ll talk maybe have sex a few times but sooner or later you’ll move on, or be deployed or I’ll move on or be stationed somewhere else…” You look at Johnny finishing the rest of your tea. And moving to stand up. He reaches out to you trying to get you to stay. 

“C’mon let me at least walk you back to the base.” You can’t help but see the pleading in his eyes his usual smile warms your heart. You go up and place a kiss on his cheek. 

“It’s okay Johnny, I need to go into town anyway.” You smile your hand patting his chest, you can feel the tight muscles under your hand only making it harder to turn away. But you pull your hand off his chest and head for the door.

————————

You make it two weeks having to almost actively avoid Johnny. Since whatever mission he was supposed to be on was cancelled he’d been helping round the base with all kinds of different things. You would bump in to him all the time, your eyes always betraying you and wandering to him whenever he was in your view. He spent a lot of time with Simon, the ‘big scary skull guy’ some of the other nurses would call him. 

“I heard his face was burnt off in a horrible accident.” One of them said one day as we were eating lunch in the mess. Your eyes had barely left Johnny’s face he was sat a few tables ahead of you. He seemed to like the fact you were always watching him. His eyes meeting yours and smiling. Sometimes you would look up and it would Simon's eyes staring you down. His gaze would always send shivers up your spine, the hairs on the back of your neck would stand up. The nurses giggling as they spread rumours about him. It was enough to piss you off, making you snap at them about spreading rumours like that.

“We’re not in secondary school anymore! Show some respect.” You snapped leaving the table. You knew you could feel Johnny’s eyes digging into you. 

When you made it home you welcomed the rest. Your small London apartment had been rented out for the few months you had been away, the place was going to need a good clean tomorrow. The thought of sleeping in a bed that had been home to a stranger for 5 months felt icky so you ended up curling up on the sofa turning the TV on for background noise. Your mind turning to Johnny. Wonder what he’s doing? Think he’s still at the base?

Your mind somehow turned to Simon too, thinking back to all the rumours you’d heard. None of them even remotely sounding plausible. Who cares, he has his reasons for the mask, it’s none of my business. Your phone buzzed and you reached over to pick it up. 

Make it home safe? 

It was Johnny, he hadn’t texted you since the coffee date. Well date was the wrong word. 

Yeah.

You hover over the send button wondering if this was a good idea or not. You take a deep breath in and hit send throwing the phone to the other side of the couch going back to watch whatever distraction was on the TV. You don’t even remember falling asleep.

You’re woken by a knock at the door, you look out the window the sun is peaking through the clouds, you check your watch its 10am. There is another knock. You pull yourself off the couch stiff from sleeping in such an awkward position.

“I’m coming.” You call yawning, looking through the peep hole. 

What the fuck? 

You open the door. 

“Johnny?” You ask shocked.

“Hey,” He says, his smile radiating off his face, his hair is a mess he looks like he’s barely slept. You look at him in stunned silence shaking your head. 

“I wasn’t completely honest with you.” He says. “Can I come in? I’ll be quick I promise.” 

“Not really the best opening line if you want to get into someone's flat.” You say.

“Scouts honour.” He says holding up 3 fingers. You roll your eyes and step aside so he can come in. 

“When I said it was complicated, it’s not cos I’m married to the job…” He trails off standing in your kitchen so there is at least a foot distance between you two. 

“I am married, to Simon.” Your mouth falls open at the revelation.

“Simon Riley?” you ask, almost shaking your head in disbelief.

“Yeah,” He shrugs.

“So you’re gay?” You say, but it feels like a question. 

“Yeah, well Bi, both of us. That’s why it’s complicated.” You shake your head not quite understanding. He seemed nervous all of a sudden.

“Well, we both still like women, and, you know-or I guess you don’t know-we experimented threesomes and what not.” He ran his hand through his hair. “There is something different about you, we’ve both been obsessed with you, can’t get you out our heads.” 

“Both?” You ask, your mouth still hanging open. 

“Aye, Simon’s not good with words though, or at least not till he gets to know ya.” He chuckles running his hand through his hair again. You take a deep breath out.  

“What do you want Johnny?” You ask. Is he asking me for sex? A threesome? 

“Have coffee with me and Simon.” He says.

“That’s it coffee?” You ask. 

“Yeah.” He says nodding. 

“You came all the way to my flat to ask me to have coffee with you and Simon?” You fold your arms, you can’t tell if you feel disappointed it’s not sex or annoyed that he’s basically invaded your privacy for something so trivial. He shrugs. You close your eyes for a second thinking about it. You sigh, it’s not like you have anything better to do while you’re on leave, and it is only coffee. You take a big breath in opening your eyes. Johnny’s smiling again, the smile that makes your heart skip a beat and the butterfly's wake up. 

“Okay.” You nod, You don’t get chance to finish your thought cos he’s thrown his arms round you squeezing you. 

“Thank you, thank you.” He says breaking from the hug. Your cheeks are definitely red now after feeling his body pressed against yours. You can’t help smiling. He reaches over for the door handle.

“I’ll text you a time and a place,” you nod as he goes out the door.

“Hey Johnny how did you find my address?” 

“A friend of a friend,” he smiles up at you from the stairs. You shake your head in disbelief. What the hell just happened?   

Next part AO3 link soontm

[peachesofteal]

That nurse au? Devoured it and it lives in my brain rent free. If Simon and Johnny notice the bruises on Nurse do they share looks? Maybe Johnny tries to gently ask about them? I loved this so much.

Anon is referencing this. The way nurse x ghoap has spread through my brain like a flesh eating bacteria is insane. And I can't actually answer this ask because I'm writing it as a fic but I'm happy to give you a little possible snippet/glimpse/ramble down below:

The tablet in your hand chimes, drawing your attention away from the vending machine and to it's far-too-bright-for-this-ungodly-hour screen, to where it displays a status change in red.

268: 38.5 degrees.

Fuck. You abandon your sub par dinner options for nearly sprinting to the room, slowing to a walk to take long, deep breaths before your knuckles are rapping on the glass. Get control of yourself. Simon is too perceptive. He will panic. It could be nothing.

You don't even bother acknowledging your thought process there, the truth that is starting to bleed from your heart, through your body like a disease. The reason why you check on them so often, the reason why you can't stop thinking about them, even when you're off shift. The reason why, when you go home in the morning to go to bed, you drift off thinking about Johnny's sleepy smile, or Simon's voice, humming in your ears.

"Hi." You whisper when you slip inside. He straightens a bit in the armchair, but you're happy to see he's using it as a recliner now, progress from last week when he wouldn't even let himself lean backwards, or fall asleep willingly.

His brow furrows above the black mask.

"Hey, everything alright?" Shit. You're not surprised, you were just in here, after all. Spending too much time sitting in the chair opposite him, next to Johnny, on your break before your patient fell asleep.

"Yeah, I ah... have to draw some blood." You really do not want to wake him up, or alarm Simon, but you also refuse to lie to either of them. You fire off a text to the attending on call, just to advise him of Johnny's temperature and the impending labs that he can expect, before sliding a drawer open as softly as possible and pulling out everything you'll need. You can feel his gaze burning a hole in your scrubs, his ever present scrutiny impossible to escape. Sometimes you think he might be reading your fucking mind.

"He just fell asleep." He protests, and you think, you imagine, that he's frowning behind the mask. You think you almost know what it looks like, strong mouth pulled downwards in consternation, wide jaw gnashed tight.

"I know, but he's running just a bit of a fever." He jolts, and you hold up a hand in caution. "It's not too high, so I'm not super worried, but we'll need to check his white cell count, just in case okay? And then we'll go from there."

"Post op fever is common." He repeats the words you told him last week, after Johnny's second surgery, the one where they went in for the pneumothorax complication, and you nod to reassure him.

"Right. So, just going to do a quick blood draw and get it downstairs so we can find out what's going on." Simon shifts uncomfortably, but nods. You squeeze Johnny's shoulder softly, before swabbing the spot on the inside of his elbow.

He blinks, eyes opening slowly, confused brow smoothing when he looks from his partner, over to you.

"There's our girl." He mumbles softly, and your face heats, eyes widening in surprise before you regulate your reaction. Simon coughs, loudly, and you shake your head with a nervous smile.

"Such a flirt, MacTavish." You tie him fast, fingers a little more clumsy than usual, off balance from hearing him say 'our girl', like you mean something to them. "I just need to get some blood and then I'll leave you in peace." He shrugs, but Simon grabs for his hand and squeezes it.

"Ah come on, Si." He slurs, but reaches to cup Simon's cheek over the mask, rubbing a thumb over the fabric.

"You're runnin’ a fever, Johnny."

"Ach. 's nothing." He brushes it off, but you watch how his eyes are slow to track Simon's movements. You casually glance at the monitor, noting his blood pressure.

"Could be." You assure him. "But can't be too sure, so we're going to check a few labs, alright?" He nods, sleepy, already falling back under, and you pull the needle, taping a small patch of gauze over the puncture in one fell swoop. “Alright. Let me run these down, and I’ll be back up to check on you in a bit.” You turn, stripping your gloves off into the trash.

“We’ll miss ye.” He whispers, and you roll your eyes playfully, even as your stomach clenches.

Simon’s eyes don’t leave you for a single second, not until the door is shut and you’re out of sight.

[moongreenlight]

WIP Wednesday except it's Thursday and I'm using this as an excuse to post something without the imaginary pressure of getting a full fic out. :D

800-ish word excerpt from my Ghoap x Reader nutcracker AU that I meant to finish around Christmas.

The orchestra has picked up about half a beat too fast and the conductor seems not to have noticed.

Too busy salivating at the legs of one of the snowflake girls a few spots to your left. His baton is getting lazy. Long, drawn out flicks and swishes like he’s casting spells instead of directing. Strange, you think. If anything they should be slowing down to match his tempo.

Maybe it’s the strings? They’re nipping into the winds and forcing the entire group forward. It throws off a girl in front of you. She’s younger by a handful of years. Doesn’t quite have the music- even at the right tempo- committed to memory. She drops her arm a full count too early. Even from behind you can hear her curse.

This seems to rouse him. He jerks his head back to center and starts flicking the tip of the baton back on beat. He’s a stern man. He’s got coal-black eyes that seem to house the staggering power to burn a hole straight through someone bone and all. You swear you can hear flesh crackling and sizzling as he casts his gaze out over the stage. It takes a moment, but he’s able to herd the group back onto a single track. Dancers and musicians alike.

Someone has either put too much or too little rosin on their shoes. It’s difficult to pinpoint, but there’s a terrible squeaking sound from somewhere on the stage that makes the hair on the back of your neck stand up. Like nails on a chalkboard. It gets worse during the final round of turns.

And then, by some miracle, intermission. Big cloth curtains draw together. Kicking up dust and loose sparkles and large pieces of fake snow that adhere themselves to your skin. Kept snug in place by the sheen of sweat that collected under the brutal heat of the spotlights and the effort it took to dance for nearly forty minutes straight.

Imogene, the girl who’d just recently championed the superlative of biggest blunder to date, was now heavily crying into the arms of her older sister.

You relish the few moments you get to catch your breath before the mistress comes and begins to shoo you and the other girls offstage. She’s far more stern than the conductor. And unfortunately less handsome, though they share the same deep-set frown lines that cage their mouths. You catch her give a shaking Imogene a whack to the ear before you can duck backstage.

In your hurry to whip your head back around for fear of meeting the same fate, you run directly into someone’s back. You’re quick to hiss out an apology, but it’s drowned out by the sound of a man speaking terribly muddy French.

“- gorgeous. Even caught the orchestra’s attention.” (please pretend this is French I forgot to translate it and I'm too lazy rn)

The girl he’s talking to, Sophie, giggles and he sways slightly from her batting him in the chest.

“Excuse me.”

It comes out a bit more stiff than you mean it to. He doesn’t wait for Sophie to dismiss herself before turning around.

John MacTavish is one of the few men in the company, but even without such slim options, you feel he would still be a standout.

He’s not from France, though it’s not uncommon for members to have made pilgrimage to join such a prestigious group. His accent is horrible, any potential ruined by his upbringing somewhere in Scotland, though he earns himself a few points with native speakers for his enthusiasm.

He’s also granted the cushion of patience because of his undeniable good looks. He’s got great blue eyes that emote just as well as he does. Shining and laughing along with him like they’ve got personalities to match. He’s big. Tall and muscular, which -again- isn’t uncommon what with all the lifts and spins and acrobatics he does, but he packs on muscle in a way not many other male dancers have the capacity to do.

You’re sure it’s a nightmare to source costumes for him. He’s tore the back panel out of his jacket twice this season alone and you’re only about three-quarters of the way through.

He’s gorgeous and he knows it, which makes him insufferable. He’s charming and got fantastic whit, sure, but he’s perverse and a habitual letcher so it all seems to cancel out.

His great beauty makes him the popular option for most all of the company and the patrons of the opera house alike. It’s become a running joke that you’ve not really served your time unless you’ve had a go with John.

Your participation is left widely up to speculation.

“Sorry, hen.”

If he noticed your rigidity, he doesn’t bring it up. Instead he leans down and takes you by the wrists. Brings his face close to yours and plants a kiss on the right corner of your mouth.

“Jesus, John.”

You scramble away, much to his delight.

“Always forget if it’s right or left first.”

He’s snickering like he’s clever. It takes some legitimate effort to wrench your arms out of the manacles that are his hands.

“Funny.”

You say flatly as you shoulder past him, wiping at the corner of your mouth with the heel of your palm.

“I thought so.”

[stuffireadandenjoy]

I don’t post any of my fics on tumblr anymore, they will all be posted on AO3 only. If you see them elsewhere then they are stolen. This is a list of fics that are works in progress/future ideas/completed. Tags for fics will be: #my fics, #(fic name), #pairing Red - on hiatus

Works In Progress

Works that I have posted some of and are currently working on or have put on hiatus until I can work on them.

Icarus Landing [ POTA | No Pairings | No Warnings | 3/25]

COD Drabbles and Brain Worms [ COD | Various Pairings | Various Warnings | 10/?]

Radio Silence [ COD | Price/Reader | Zombie AU | 1/10]

100 Word Challenge Fics [Various Fandoms | Various Pairings | Various Warnings | 7/?]

Wrong Number, Right Day [ COD | Gaz/Reader | Sugar Daddy Gaz, Manipulation, Fake Relationship | 1/11]

Call of the Jurassic [ COD/JP | Soap/Ghost (background) | Blood/Gore, Animal Death, Character Death, Swearing | 1/12]

A Marriage of Inconvenience [ COD | Price/Female Oc | Las Vegas Wedding AU | 1/17]

Dishes Best Served Cold [ COD | Ghost x Reader | Neighbor AU | 2/9]

25 Days of COD [ COD | Kate/Soap/Price/Ghost/Gaz/Reader | Christmas Series | 2/25]

The Housekeeper [ COD | Ghost/Reader | Threats of Rape/Non-Con, Blood and Injury, Murder, Descriptions of Gunshot Wounds, 2/47] (currently under a rewrite)

Just A Hare [ SW:CW | Self Insert Clone OC | Fix It Fic | 21/30]

Groundhog Day [ SW:CW | CT-6922/Dogma | Time Loop Fix It Fic | 1/27]

Just Sign Here [COD | Gaz/Female OC | Slow Burn | 6/?]

Broken but not Forgotten [COD | Ghost & that mean cat | hurt/comfort | 10/?]

Future Ideas

Ideas that I plan on writing in the future but haven’t posted anything for yet.

That One Coffee Shop AU [ COD | Ghost/Gaz | No Warnings | Coffee Shop AU]

A Hop, Skip, and Leap [ COD | Gaz/Female Oc | No Warnings | Shifter AU]

Whispers Amongst the Petals [ COD | 141/Reader | Implied Stalking, Kidnapping | Oneshot]

Red Alert on the Railcrawler [Star Wars | OC Death, Angst, | Murder Mystery | 0/9]

Better Behaved [COD | Ghoap x Female Reader | petplay, unnegotiated kink, kidnapping | 0/5]

Nature Versus Nurture [Jurassic World | OC x Oc | mentions of animal death, animal abuse, canon typical violence]

Where Giants Roam [COD | Brief mentions of Nik/Price | animal death, minor character death, canon typical violence]

Where Lavender Grows [COD | Laswell x Female OC, Price x Male OC, Price x Laswell tagging for just in case | Bridgerton AU | 0/23]

The One That Follows [COD | Ghoap | Cryptid AU | 0/14]

Price Worth Paying [COD | Mafia Boss Laswell/Reader | Mafia AU | 0/21]

The Day After [ COD | Gaz/Female Oc | Amnesia, Manipulation, Dark!Gaz, Smut, Mentions of Past Torture/Harassment, Flashbacks of Torture/Harassment, Mentions of Kidnapping, Mentions of Past Psychological Torture, Isolation | 0/12]

Bound by Blood and Duty [COD | Mafia!Gaz/Mafia!Reader | Mafia AU]

Untouched [ COD | Ghost/Female Oc | Smut, Sort of Kidnapping, Coercion, Kind of Forced Marriage | Western AU | 0/19]

Jurassic Warfare [ COD | Call of the Jurassic AU | Canon Typical Violence, Gore and Blood, Canon Typical Language, Descriptions of Wounds and Gore, Animal Death | 0/7]

Silver Tongue, Golden Words [ COD | Dragon!Ghost/Sacrifice!Gaz | Warnings | Fantasy AU | 0/17]

The Tapes [ COD | Killer!Gaz/Reporter!Reader | Violence and Gore | 0/5]

The Kiss That Was [COD | Laswell/Handywoman!Reader | Smut | 0/♾️]

Upon Dark Wings [COD | Ghoap | NA | Swan Princess AU]

Actions Have Consequences - A new captain is assigned when Price goes AWOL, but gets put in a tough position when the 141 reunite with Price

Assets Become Liabilities - A team is sent to hunt down Price after he goes AWOL after shooting Shepherd

Stand By My Grave [COD | Ghoap | Major Character Death, Canon Typical Violence | Pet Semetary AU]

In Your Arms I Found Peace [COD | Ghost x Female OC |

When One Night Becomes A Lifetime [COD

Through the Eyes of a Songbird [COD

Mermaid!Reader Fic [COD @/deeptrashwitch request

Completed

Completed works or works that I do not intend to continue.

Worship [ COD | Gaz/Female Reader | Body Worship, Grinding | One Shot]

Silver Platter [ COD | Price/Female Reader | Harassment, Slight Intoxication | One Shot]

Slip of the Tongue [ COD | Gaz/Female Reader | Dry Humping | One Shot]

Need A Light? [ COD | Price/Reader | Drinking | One Shot]

Safe and Sound [ COD | Price/Reader | Panic Attacks | One Shot]

Echolocation [ COD | Ghost & Soap | One Shot]

His Thoughts [ COD | Ghost/Reader | Rape/Non Con Elements, Aftermath of Torture, Blood and Gore | [Oneshot]

Morning Glory [ COD | Laswell/Female Reader | Smut, Praise Kink, Hairpulling | One Shot]

In The Rain [ COD | Price/Female OC | One Shot]

Sleepover [ COD | Price/Reader | Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism mention, Grind and Grope, Mentions of Drug Use (prescription), Suicidal Thoughts | One Shot]

Eye to Eye [ COD | Soap/Female Reader | Stalking, Non-Consensual Bondage, Non-Consensual Voyeurism, Rape/Non-Con | One Shot]

[robiinurheart33]

Thanks for the tag @sergeantwoods !! I went a little crazy on the questions lols,,,

1. how many works?

Honestly no idea lmao (if ur talking on ao3, I don’t have an account there, but I’ve been thinking about it.) (14 wips atm)

2. Total word count?

Again, no idea LOL! My actual works have been around 1K ish per post? So id say in total maybee 10k?

3. what fandoms do you write for?

Currently, COD. I wanna expand more soon though, so stay tuned in the far, far future

4. top 5 fics by kudos?

I’m gonna list down my fav fics of all time (multi fandom) if im reading this correctly

1. Anything by buzzcut_season really. Their writing is spectacular and made my heart clench on so many occasions. My personal GOD of writing fluff. And the person that got me through the hells of teenage puberty.(for the record, i am still in puberty lmfao) my firsts in the tag tooth-rotting fluff and the magics of slow burn. (Sk8 the Infinity)

2. Neon Void by sugarpastels. The creator is here on Tumblr with the same user so if you wanna check her out go ahead!! FANTASTIC writing, villain Leo au with heart pounding scenes that leave me dizzy. A fic has never made me breathless and needing to pace around my room more than this one (special shoutout to her sister as well who is writing a mutant mayhem fic that unfortunately didn’t get added to the list but is still super well written!!) (ROTTMNT)

3. Anytime You Need Me by thirteenbullets. I really don’t need to elaborate more. Character analysis + fluff + non sexual intimacy + long fics… it’s the perfect series for me. I felt like a stuck gold when i read this. (COD)

4. The Eldest Brother by dEBB987. Classic 2012 x 2018 crossover, but it doesn’t have ooc and is just such. A. Fun. Read. Made me giggle and kick my legs more than one occasion and good family feels all around. (TMNT)

5. Mutant Ninja Midlife Crisis by a_platypus. Old Leo comes back to the past after the events of the movie to readjust to new life. The right amount of drama with the perfect amount of slice of life. This fic actually gives the old turtle a break but also not letting go of the teenage angst and everything that comes with seeing your dead friends young and alive again. Would have been higher on the list but it’s not completed sadly. The author does write for COD as well though, and it’s worth to check it out! (ROTTMNT)

5. do you respond to comments?

Yes!!! I love love love it when people comment and try to interact if possible.

6. what is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

Probably the panic attack Ghost fic. Haven’t written much angst if im remembering correctly. I’m a major fluff person

7. fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

Oh god i really haven’t written a proper fic at all helps. I’m frantically swiping through my robs ramblings tag and just realising most of the ghoap stuff i write is about their undying dedication to each other. Jesus. Happiest ending is probably one of my blurbs cause every time i try to write actual fluff i overheat and explode.

8. do you get hate on fics?

Nope

9. do you write smut?

Nah. I don’t think ill ever write smut honestly not because im asexual its just that I don’t think I can write one accurately if that makes sense. Also im a minor I don’t think im allowed to do that

10. craziest crossover?

None yet

11. have you ever had a fic stolen?

Thankfully not, but if i have i would take it as a sign that I’ve made it as a writer. Unless it’s more popular than the actual post in that case burn it with fire.

12. have you ever had a fic translated?

Nope

13. have you ever co-written a fic before?

Unfortunately and fortunately no. I would LOVE to collaborate, don’t get me wrong. But i would get so anxious about not disappointing the other person or procrastinating and motivation and all the works and just. Yeah I don’t have the mental capacity for that rn.

14. all time favourite ship?

Ooooooh

ghoap, renga, ineffable husbands, solangelo (Off the top of my head rn)

15. what’s a wip that you want to finish but doubt you will?

THE SECOND PART TO DRUNK SOAP. OH MY GOD I NEED TO GET IT DONE ITS BEEN 2 MONTHS

16. what are your writing strengths?

I would say making everything just too dramatic and emotional

17. what are your writing weaknesses?

Dialogue. I can barely talk irl how am i supposed to write witty banter

18. thoughts on dialogue in another language?

Love it. As a bilingual myself i love seeing diff languages it’s like a bonus secret for that language user

19. first fandom you wrote in?

Rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles. That was when i was in my “i think this is so cringy of me and i hold myself back because of it” because wow. I reread some of it recently and it’s horrible it will stay and rot in my notes app. Although i will say it’s so nice to see how far I’ve come in terms of writing and just posting publicly in general

20. favourite fic you’ve written?

The drunk soap one and the Ghoap one where they’re on stakeout together. I didn’t like the second one initially, but i think slaving over it worked. I love how I managed to balance the quietness and mutual respect and fondness of each other.

If you couldn’t tell, i had a lot of fun answering these questions haha

If you’ve made it this far, congratulations!! You know more about me than the average online follower 👏👏👏

[nsharks]

Oh man can i ask how you find motivation to come back to writing after being in a slump? Im writing a ghoap x reader fic and in my head it's SO DETAILED and i want it to be rly slow burn but then it's like....well shoot i have the ideas for a 100k fanfic and the motivation to write fuck all 💀💀💀 i was wondering since you also had to take a lil break but have come back if you had any writers block advice? If not thats all good, i also just wanna say welcome back and dont feel any pressure to get your next chapter out right away!

My advice would be to not pressure yourself, do other things you like, watch or read other materials for inspo, and write everyday even if it’s little things about nothing

[lysenfeu]

Lysenfeu Fic Masterlist

[Visit my AO3 Profile!]

ALL CONTENT IS RATED MATURE/18+

Explicit Sexual Content is marked with an *

FIC REQUESTS: CLOSED

ANY OTHER ASKS/MSGS: OPEN

Characters

I am currently writing for + taking asks about:

Adrian Chase/Vigilante (DCU)

Logan James Howlett/Wolverine (Comics/X-Men Films)

Victor Creed/Sabretooth (Comics/X-Men Films)

COD - 141 (Kyle "Gaz" Garrick, John "Soap" MacTavish, Simon "Ghost" Riley & Captain John Price)

Eddie Brock/Venom (Sonyverse/Comics)

Matthew Murdock/Daredevil (NMCU/Comics)

Frank Castle/The Punisher (NMCU)

Billy Russo/Jigsaw (NMCU)

Mikey Berzatto (The Bear)

-Call of Duty (Gaz, Ghost, Price, Soap)-

• Drabbles/Headcanon •

141 + Sex Toys* (Headcanon)

141 + Kisses (Headcanon)

Oral Fixation (Ghoap Mini Drabble)

Ghost Ruining You* (Drabble)

• Devil in the Details* (Shortform/Drabble Series) •

[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3]

Rating: Mature/Explicit Pairing: Eventual John Price x F!Reader Summary: Captain John Price is pushed over the edge after the loss of his team. He makes a desperate deal to rectify his mistakes and alleviate his grief, not understanding the cost he'll have to pay is always more than expected. Content: Slow Burn, Eventual Smut, Demon AU, Dark themes, Supernatural events, Grief/death, Corruption

-Frank Castle/The Punisher (NMCU)-

• Rinse & Repeat* (One-Shot) •

[Read on Tumblr] [Read on AO3]

Rating: Explicit 18+ Pairing: Frank Castle x F!Reader Word Count: 1.8k Summary: Frank comes home bloody and filthy from a rough night out and you can't help but clean him up. Content: Mentions of blood, Domestic fluff, Super soft Frank, Smut (F/M), Shower sex, Bareback (no condom), Creampie

-Eddie Brock/Venom (Sonyverse/Marvel Comics)-

• Cheque Please!* (One-Shot) •

[Read on Tumblr] [Read on AO3]

Rating: Explicit 18+ Pairing: Eddie Brock/Venom x Reader Word Count: 1.5k Summary: Venom gets a little too enthusiastic after you offer him a treat on date night with Eddie. Content: Smut (F/M), Semi-public sex, Alien sex, Tentacles/tendrils, Oral sex (F receiving)

-Adrian Chase/Vigilante (Peacemaker DCU)-

• Headcanons •

Training

First Kill

Vigilantemobile

Organization

SFW Character Alphabet

NSFW Character Alphabet*

• Helluva Drug* (One-Shot) •

[Read on Tumblr] [Read on AO3]

Rating: Explicit 18+ Pairing: Adrian Chase/Vigilante x Civilian!FReader Word Count: 3.7k Summary: A civilian gets caught in the crossfire as Vigilante busts a drug operation outside Evergreen and they both get exposed to a strange new substance. Content: Violence, Kidnapping, Dubcon (sex pollen), Accidental Drugging, Smut (F/M), Sex with strangers, Rough sex, Unprotected Sex (no condom)

• It's His Birthday* (One-Shot) •

[Read on Tumblr] [Read on AO3]

Rating: Explicit 18+ Word Count: 5.7k Pairing: Adrian Chase x F!Reader Summary: The 11th street kids take Adrian out to a bar for his birthday and try to set him up with the cute bartender. Content: Alcohol Use, Flirting, Fluff, Smut (F/M)

• Pair of Aces* (Series - Ongoing/HIATUS) •

Rating: Mature/Explicit 18+ Pairing: Vigilante x F!Reader

Summary: After Peacemaker nearly blows the mission at the Goff mansion, Waller sends in a new team member to pick up slack and assist Task Force X with Project Butterfly.Series Content: Mature themes, Graphic Violence, Slow Burn, Eventual Smut, Explicit Language, Smut (F/M)

[Chapter 1] [Chapter 2] [Chapter 3] [Chapter 4] [Chapter 5] [Chapter 6*]

[Read on AO3]

[moody-alcoholic]

Death in the family

I wrote the outline for a Simon x reader fic but it devolved into another Ghoap fic so I shelved it...

Why make them so shippable if they are not to be shipped?

Summary: Ghoap x Reader, throuple. Slow burn (sorry but not sorry). 4.2k words. Reader is female (she/her), army nurse, non descript physical features, names used: Ashe.

CW: talks of loss, grieving, funeral, nightmares, PTSD, assault, hurt/comfort.

Previous parts - masterlist - next part

Enjoy <3

You’re tied to a chair again, you can’t move blood drips down your face. You’re stripped to your underwear, sweat dripping down the back of your neck making you shiver. The room is cold goosebumps rise on your body as you rub your legs together for any kind of warmth. The sound of a door opening forces you to look up, you see Jack walk in. You let your head fall again, no point in looking at him, it does not matter what you say he’ll never believe you. His laugh fills your ears you try to ignore him. 

“Your boyfriends were killed today.” He says, it’s like a stab to the heart, you don’t want to believe him. He clearly is not happy with your silent response rushing over to you and pulling your hair so you’re forced to look at him. He’s smiling at you. 

“They tried to come and rescue you, and look what you did. You got them killed.” He spits in your face, letting your head fall again. Tears rush out you can’t stop them but you won’t give him the satisfaction of seeing you cry. 

“I’ll never understand why you let love take over, they would still be alive if they just let  you die.” You hear him walk over to you. You see his feet standing in front of you. He pulls your hair up again so he can look in your eyes. 

“You’re no use to me now.” You feel the indescribable pain as a knife is thrust into your chest. 

You wake screaming, hands grab your body. You try to fight as lights flick on in the room. You feel your arms pressed into your chest as arms wrap round you. You hear Simon’s voice then Johnny. You feel hands stroking your back, stroking your hair as Johnny rocks you in his arms. It was just a dream, just a stupid dream. 

“Sorry,” you say catching your breath.

“It’s okay love, you’re okay.” Johnny says not letting you go. You hear Simon get out the bed. You feel bad for waking them up now it just makes you sad.

“You were dead. In my dream.” You sniff into Johnny’s chest.

“Yeah? Well I’m still here ain’t I?” Johnny says as he loosens his grip on you. You hear the toilet flush as Simon comes back in the room. You put off sleeping for as long as you could, you didn’t want to slip back into the nightmares you’d been having, especially once you were home. You were kind of hoping and praying that the bad dreams would stay in Syria, but when you nodded off on the flight home you could already see the flashes of memories coming back to haunt you. It’s just temporary, you’ll be fine in a few weeks. You try to convince yourself it’s not PTSD. This is just a normal reaction to what happened to you it’s like a knee-jerk trauma response, you had a bad time with Jack and now your best friend is dead. You let out a sigh watching Simon move back into the bed as Johnny lets you go. You lean back on the pillows wiping your eyes, Simon reaches over pulling you down on his chest. You hear his heartbeat as Johnny turns the light off snuggling up behind you. 

“You need to talk to someone.” Simon says quietly, kissing your head. 

“After the funeral, I promise.” You say, you know it’s a lie, you won’t see a shrink until you’re ordered to see one. No point in risking a medical discharge over a few stupid nightmares. You close your eyes taking a deep breath in. You just have to get through tomorrow, as soon as that is over things can start to get back to normal. Besides what's the worst that can happen, it’s a funeral after all.     

——————————  

It’s raining of course it is, typical British weather, typical funeral weather. This feels wrong, you’re going back to Chloe’s house but there is no Chloe. The invites had been sent via e-mail, no use in wasting the good invites on her. The ‘burial’ was held privately, Chloe’s mum would not want to be embarrassed at the fact it was not a military funeral. I’m sure she was shocked at her daughters request to be cremated instead of buried, not that she would have been given the privilege to be buried in the family plot. That was for soldiers. There were no butlers on the door this time, you let go of Johnny’s arm to reach up and ring the doorbell. A few seconds later someone opens the door, you look through to see Chloe’s mum and dad stood in the foyer. You walk in wiping your feet on the mat before going over to them.

“Oh sergeant we’re so glad you could make it.” Chloe’s mum comes over giving you a hug. There are tears drying on her cheeks as she holds a handkerchief in her hand. 

“She had so few friends we’re glad there is someone she would know.” You hold your tongue, the reason so few of them are here is because Chloe would rather tell people she had no family then introduce people to her real one. You break away from the hug and force a small smile.

“I’m so sorry for your loss.” You say. It’s the standard response, you don’t have anything to say to her family, you’re here for Chloe. Her mother turns her attention to Johnny. 

“Oh I remember you, SAS, MacTavish?” She says dabbing her dry cheeks. Johnny nods. Of course she remembers Johnny but couldn’t tell you which hospital her daughter worked at. 

“There are drinks in the drawing room, help yourself.” She points over to the open door in the foyer. You walk with Johnny hearing classical music spilling out the room. As you enter a butler offers you a drink you take one off the tray thanking him. You look around the room, some people you recognise some you don’t it’s mostly family, you can pick out her brothers from a mile away, they have the same blonde hair. They’re the only ones in the room who look like they don’t want to be here, almost like their sisters death is an inconvenience. You finish your drink going over to the open guest book on the table putting the empty glass down.

“We can leave if you want?” Johnny whispers as you pick up a pen. You shake your head, you have to be here. You look at the page not knowing what to write, it’s already filled with messages of condolences, all the same generic few phrases. Notes of sympathy from people who didn’t even know her personally, who are just here to support her family. You want to write something that matters but you don’t know what to say. Your hand hovers over the page as you think about her. Her smile, the way she was always so bubbly, how she got you through nursing exams, you would stay up late together studying. How she was so headstrong, so sure in what she was doing, stubborn as all hell. You remember the look on her face when you said you were joining the army, how she shouted at you and didn’t talk to you for a week. 

‘Yeah well I hope you die on the front lines!’ She snapped.

‘Clo, don’t be like this, the pay and the benefits that’s all it is. I don’t want to be stuck in a hospital all my life.’ You said from the other side of the door. 

‘Why’d you become a nurse then?’ She says quieter, you hear her sniffles.

‘I want to help people.’ You reply. 

That was the night she came clean about her family, told you all about her ‘other life’ as she called it sometimes. She stayed over at your flat for the whole week, until you had to leave for basic. You feel Johnny’s hand on yours, you look down you haven’t written anything but you feel horrible. You put the pen back, maybe you can’t put it into words yet. Johnny takes your hand and leads you away from the table. You squeeze it looking up at him.

“What’s your favourite memory?” He asks. 

“When we used to work night shifts together, she would always find a way to make them fun.” You say leaning up against him. He wraps his arm round your waist as you see Chloe’s mother come into the room. She’s still dabbing her face as she makes her way to the centre of the room accepting a drink off the tray when it is bought to her. People gather around her as she nods, thanking them for coming, she then takes a sip of her drink and clears her throat as Chloe’s dad comes to stand next to her. She starts giving a speech but you’re only partially listening, she talks about how well Chloe did in med school, finishing almost top of her class and landing a job at the Royal. You can hear her trying her hardest to seem impressed with it, she looks round the room and her eyes meet yours. 

“She always had such a zest for life, in the people she knew and the way she chose to live. Some would say a troubled child, she especially since showed no interest in the military.” There it was the sly comments as the room chuckles. You sigh taking another drink off the tray as the butler walks by. You look round the room, You don’t want to be here anymore. You wonder if you could find her old room? Maybe she would have some memories tucked up in there, would definitely be better then this shit. 

“C’mon.” You say gently pulling Johnny and slipping out the room. You put your drink down on a table and head for the stairs.

“Where are we going?” Johnny asks as you lead him.

“I want to find her room, I just need, closure.” You say, he nods. You can’t remember where her room was exactly, you start peaking through doors down the long corridor.

“Do you know where it is?” Johnny asks following you. 

“I think so it’s been years since I’ve been up here.” You look through another door into a lush office, you’re about to close the door when something catches your eye. You go in the room without even thinking heading over to the desk with papers strewn all over it. 

“Chloe had interesting taste.” Johnny says looking round the room. You ignore him picking up a folder and opening it. 

“Johnny come look at this.” You say as you flick through it, it’s pages of information, with pictures of Johnny, Price, Gaz even some of you. It was a photo of Johnny that caught your eye. 

“What the fuck.” He says taking the folder out your hands. You look back over at the desk there are more papers, some in Arabic, pictures of weapons and artillery, medical supplies and closed crates of God knows what. You pick up one of the photos. 

“This is from the base I was at in Syria, this is the store room.” You say as you turn the photo over there is a date and a time written on it. 

“This was 3 days ago.” You say showing Johnny, he comes over and starts thumbing through the papers.

“Watch the door.” He says taking the photo out your hand. You nod and move to the door cracking it open slightly so you can see down the hall. Johnny takes his phone out and starts snapping photos. You look back every now and then as Johnny is moving with careful efficiency, making sure to move everything back to the place it was. You look back down the hallway, you can hear voices on the stairs.

“Johnny!” You call trying not to shout. He nods putting his phone away as you slip out the door just before you hear the voices turn the corner. Johnny pulls you into a room closing the door behind him. 

“Do you think they saw us?” You whisper. He puts his hand up to shush you as he listens.

“I don’t think so.” He says moving away from the door. You look round the room, this is Chloe’s room. You go over to sit on her bed, it looks like most of the furniture has been moved out and the room has been stripped of all its personality. You run your fingers over the bedding. It’s just a guest room now, you suspect it has been for a few years. 

“You okay?” Johnny asks stepping over to you. You sniff the tears away, all you can do is nod. You look up at him his fingers stroke your cheek. 

“Mind if I have a few minutes?” You ask, he nods. 

“I’ll meet you back downstairs?” He asks, you nod in reply. He reaches down and plants a kiss on your forehead then walks out the room closing the door behind him. You get up going to the dresser and pulling on the small lopsided drawer, you smile at yourself when you can’t open it. Most people would think it was jammed, her parent’s and sisters defiantly did. You reach into your pocket taking a card out your purse. You shimmy it between the drawer in the spot you remember Chloe showing you years ago. The drawer clicks open and you can pull it out just a few centimeters you reach in and pull out a letter, a half pack of cigarettes and a lighter. You smile, you close the drawer as it clicks back into it’s broken state. You put the items in your pocket and go to leave the room. Now you just want to go home. 

You’re walking down the hallway as you hear a door open, before you can do anything you’re shoved up against a wall. 

“What the fuck!” You shout sick of people pushing you up against things. Your chest is pressed up against the wall your arm twisted behind your back, your broken rib sending shooting pains up your body you have to squeeze your eyes shut. You can’t see who it is behind you but they’re strong. 

“What the hell are you doing up here?” He spits. “Have you been snooping in places you shouldn’t?” It’s Mark one of Chloe’s brothers.

“Let me go, for fucks sake!” You reply fear rising in your chest, you don’t like this, you don’t like being held down. You’re not even paying attention to what he’s saying, your breathing gets quicker you’re starting to panic. Your eyes dart around looking for a way out or Johnny, anything to get out of this situation, you’re not even listening to him talk. You’re starting to loose track of reality his hands pinning your shoulders down you’re back in that room being tied to the chair Jack up in your face-. 

“The fuck do you think you’re doing!” The arms leave your body you see Johnny, you let out a breath, blinking to make sure he’s real. You start walking over to him as you pat yourself down. 

“I was saying good-bye to Chloe, not that you really care Mark.” You manage to say as you reach Johnny. He wraps his arms around your waist and you pull him to the stairs, you don’t stop walking you just want to get out of here. Mark doesn't follow you, he doesn’t say anything. You see Chloe’s mother on the way out, luckily you can play the tears off as grieving, not the fact that now every step is like a knife driving into your rib-cage. Thank God you never have to come back to this place. 

——————————   

When you make it to the flat you ignore Simon and Johnny making your way straight out to the balcony. You feel like shit physically and mentally, there is a cool breeze now as the rain has stopped and the sun is peaking through the clouds for the last few hours of daylight. You reach into your pocket pulling out the packet of cigarettes and the lighter. It’s old almost empty with stickers all over it. You’re not even sure it’s going to work but when you try it the flame springs to life. You take a cigarette out lighting it between your fingers. You don’t smoke, so this is the best Chloe is going to get from you. You open the letter next, you look at the date on the top. 14th of June, the day of the party, you can’t help but scoff. 

‘To whoever finds this but most likely Ashe. 

Remember that night we had the 3 car RTC come in to A&E? It was one of our first shifts as qualified nurses. We had no idea what we were doing and were just going with the flow which meant a lot of stitches and hand holding. I remember everyone who died that night and they all died without getting to say goodbye. I remember when you told me about how it’s common for people in the army to write letters for their loved ones if they die.

I was never worried about you dying, you’re too much of a pussy for that. Okay that was rude I’m drunk. I thought when you joined the army you would become a massive bitch, like everyone else in my life who sold their soul for queen and country.

Anyway, I wanted to write a letter for you in-case I get the bright idea of joining the army and forget about it. Or I don’t know my crazy family finally get the bright idea that their life would be easier without the black sheep (that’s me by the way not David… cos David’s black…oh you’ll understand.)

OOOO don’t let my family bury me in that depressing family plot it’s stupid I don’t want it, make them throw my ashes in a forest or something. Isn’t that what people do right they want their ashes spread in the sea or in a forest? The sea is scary full of sharks and shit. 

I’m very drunk. My mum is driving me crazy I counted how long before she made one of her comments. 3 MINUTES, SHE COULDN’T EVEN WAIT. ‘Hello sweety, I can’t wait for the day I see you in dress uniform.’ WHAT DOES THAT EVEN MEAN!!!!

The next party I’m coming in scrubs!!

I hope you miss me when I’m gone, what would you do without all this juicy drama? 

And you’re not allowed to die okay, if you’re reading this and I’ve kicked the bucket you’re not allowed to die leave the army and spend all your time fucking Johnny. He is fit if you don’t want him I’ll take him. 

I can’t even remember what I was going to say now. Just don’t die!!. 

Chloe 

PS: I had the biggest crush on you in uni.'

“Hey, you want some space?” You look up at the door through tear filled eyes, you can’t tell if it’s because of the letter or the cigarette smoke. Simon’s standing there. You shake your head looking back down at the letter. He walks over to sit next to you picking the packet of cigarettes up. 

“Smoking?” He says taking one out putting it between his lips. 

“They were Chloe’s, the same packet she hid from her parent’s when she still lived with them. She was convinced they were lucky or something, since she never got caught with them.” You explain folding the letter up watching the ash fall off the end of the cigarette. You let the butt fall out your hand onto the floor. You hear Simon light the cigarette as he coughs. 

“Fucking hell.” He says looking at you, you can’t help but smile as he looks at the cigarette in disgust. 

“They are over 10 years old.” You say. He shakes his head. You turn the letter over in your hands. 

“What did it say?” He asks, you shrug. 

“She told me not to die.” You wipe the tears away as Simon’s arm comes round your shoulder pulling you up against him. You rest your arm across his stomach as he takes another puff of the cigarette. You just sit there in silence until he’s finished, flicking the end on the floor. 

“She seemed like a good person.” Simon says after a while. You nod, she was. 

“Why did you ask if she had key’s to my place?” You ask eventually. 

“She was killed a street away from your place, I remember when I dropped her off after the party she lived on the other side of the river.” He says. You sigh, why does that matter? She could have been killed in your flat, where it happened isn’t important. You shiver feeling the cold. 

“Come on, lets go in, Johnny insisted on cooking.” You move as Simon goes to stand up he holds out his hand for you and you take it picking up the packet of cigarettes on the way. When you get inside it already smells good. Johnny is in the kitchen chopping something with his back to you but turns when hears the door close, he smiles then turns back to his chopping. 

“What you cooking?” You ask.

“Shepherds pie!” Johnny calls back. 

“Need a hand?” You ask heading to the kitchen.

“Sure, you can fry the meat.” Johnny says looking at you smiling. 

“In a second.” Simon says grabbing your arm and pulling you away from the kitchen. He takes you to the bedroom turning the light on and going to the dresser kneeling down and pulling the bottom drawer out completely. You can’t see inside very well, you move to look but he’s already up on his feet. Simon hands you a pistol, you look up at him confused. It’s heavy in your hands, you pull the barrel back checking if it’s loaded, it’s not. He passes you a mag you take it in your other hand. 

“Know how to use it?” He asks, watching you load the mag. 

“I haven’t shot a weapon since basic.” You say chuckling nervously, and even then it was in a controlled environment. 

“Quick refresher then, basics, never…” Simon looks at you to continue.

“Put your finger on the trigger until you’re ready to fire.”

“Always..”

“Be sure of your target and look beyond it.”

“Never..” 

“Leave a weapon unattended.”

“Always..” 

“Unload the weapon when not in use.” You say as you unload it. It feels wrong holding it in your hand. Where did they even get it from? This is very illegal. ‘With what happened, you’re under our protection.’ You remember what Price said, what did you need protecting from? Something felt wrong you think back to the office today, to all the paperwork and files on you, 141, the base. You hand it back to Simon.

“We’ll take you to the range tomorrow get you some practice in.” He says bending down to put it back and sliping the drawer back in. He stands up brushing a strand of hair out your face as you just gawk at him. 

“Should I be worried?” You ask. He shakes his head. 

“It’ll make us feel better, knowing you have something if we’re not here.” He’s being cryptic, and he didn’t answer your question. You shake it off, you’ve been through too much today, you just want to relax. 

“Got any other surprises under there?” You ask as his hands find your waist and he leads you out the room chuckling. 

“We keep the C4 in the bathroom, Johnny makes such a mess when he’s playing around with it.” Simon says as you walk back to the kitchen. You can’t tell if he’s joking or not. He has to be joking right? You go stand next to Johnny watching him scrape chopped onions and carrots in a pan. You kiss him on the cheek, he didn’t have to come to the funeral today, but honestly you’re glad he did. 

“Feeling better?” He asks.

“Feeling hungry.” You reply as the smell of the onions frying hits your nose. 

“Good because I’m making a big portion. How ‘bout you get started on those spuds.” He smiles you nod. Simon opens the fridge taking out a beer. 

“Yes please!” Johnny calls as soon as Simon cracks it open, he sighs handing the beer to Johnny and going back in the fridge. You smile picking up a potato. Maybe you were just overthinking everything. You remind yourself you just had to get through today, the worse was over now you can try and heal, if that’s even possible.

Next Part

I really didn't know how to end this one I was hungry when I finished writing it and honestly I could have kept going for ages...

[peachesofteal]

Ghoap x reader zombie apocalypse AU? 👀 just gonna leave that here...

Ooh anon you got me with this. Thought about it all night. A full fic of this dynamic in an apocalypse setting would be so good. Sadly, I don't have it in me to write an entire fic for this but I scratched it out as a dead disco au down below on my phone (I took bits and pieces of zombie media and smashed them together as I like):

18+ MDNI / angst, death

It was an accident.

All you had wanted to do was try to find some mushrooms. You knew this part of the woods usually had a fair amount to forage, and you were pretty good at distinguishing the good ones from the not so good ones. You hadn't meant to get distracted.

You knelt down to the forest floor, picking at a piece of bark on a downed log when you heard the rustling, the suspect sound of something moving through the brush near you.

You expected one of the slow ones. The ones that usually found themselves this far from the city, wandering aimlessly, looking for the next meal. Decaying and rotting flesh hanging from their limbs, a sign they had been long infected, the decomposition marking them as something easily escapable.

You did not expect a runner.

You screamed- a huge no no, as Simon had been drilling into your head- when you saw it, far too late, tripping over yourself to try to get away, your hunting knife pressed into the palm of your hand.

You stood little chance against a runner. They were fresh, muscles still intact, lactic acid burning through their bodies, movements fast and sharp, able to take down an entire human in one fell swoop. They even looked like you, still holding their pallor, their posture, their fine motor skills.

Only their minds were gone. Addled by the infection, brains turned to hot mush inside their skulls.

They had one objective.

Eat.

You managed to clear the log, sprinting as fast as you possibly could, trying to take long, deep breaths through your nose just as Johnny taught you.

"More oxygen that way, love. It'll help your endurance, keep you runnin' longer."

They were always doing that now, equipping you for survival. Trying to train you like a solider, teaching you the finer points they thought you should know.

"We're gonna make it, together." Simon had said, the morning they showed up in the middle being away for work, clad in full tactical gear, guns in hand. "As a family."

"Ye have to listen to everything we say, alright darling? Everything's goin' to be okay." Johnny promised at the same time as you tried to pack some essentials into your backpack with trembling fingers.

They were obsessed with trying to instill as much of their knowledge into as possible, trying to prepare you, help you, listing off rules they thought were key, ensuring you knew to follow them.

One being: don't get distracted.

You curse yourself, feet flying underneath your body and heart thrumming in your chest with panic. You're too slow, and you can hear it behind you, sprinting just as fast as you are, preparing to launch and take down it's next meal.

You don't see the snare of brambles until you're in them, nearly slamming to a stop, thorns scratching against your skin as you fight against the thicket. It's too dense, slowing your ability to get away... and the runner is still hot on your heels, working its way through the mess, snapping its jaw like a shark.

Simon comes out of nowhere. One second you're hacking away at the branches and the next, there's a massive, solid warmth at your back, standing between you and the snarling monster. He's facing away from you, brandishing a knife, engaged in a full fight with the runner, taking it to the ground in an attempt to get the blade into its temple. You watch mouth wide, frozen, holding your breath until the job is done, and Simon is hauling himself upwards, pulling you into his arms before stepping back to look you over.

You burst into tears. You've always told them, you're not for this kind of world. You're too gentle, too sensitive. You're a painter, for fucks sake. Not a killer. You're too soft to survive.

They say it doesn't matter. That you can be as soft as you want, because you have them, and they'll be the killers. They'll be the hard ones.

"Did it get you? Let me see, c'mon-" He checks your arms, your neck, the tear on your shirt but finds nothing. "Alright, you're alright." He's telling you, and himself, relief exhaling from his body with each syllable. "You're alright, darling. I've got ya. Come here." He holds you tight, rubbing your back, kissing your cheek, your forehead until you're calm, breathing deeply and wiping your face.

You believe the worst has passed, until you blink up at him, and see the blood on his neck.

The bite.

"We need to make a plan."

"We're nae makin' a bloody plan." Johnny hisses, and Simon closes his eyes like he's tired. "We keep goin'. We'll make it to the rendezvous with Price and they'll have a solution. We dinnae even know how fast it spreads."

Simon lets loose a sigh, heavy with exhaustion. With the toll that this life has become. With the weight, of everything. He tucks you into his body, wrapping his other arm around Johnny, and holds the two of you close. Tightly. Tighter than he ever has before.

"Alright."

The next morning, everything is different.

You woke up last, fire still barely smoldering, little energy bar on the ground next to you. The guys sleeping bags were already rolled up, stacked neatly with Simon's pack, and the long gun that Johnny carries.

But they were nowhere to be found.

Confused, you slid free, stretching with a silent groan, scanning your surroundings until you spot them on the edge of the woods, locked together on their feet, Johnny's face mashed against Simon's neck, strong arms holding him close.

"What's going on?" The question comes out confused when you get close, and Johnny pulls away with wet eyes, hands shaking. What's happening? Why are they both crying? Fear screams through your body, red alert systems firing up as your brain struggles to put all the pieces together.

"Simon-" Johnny begins, but stops abruptly, eyes slamming shut, lips pressed together in agony.

"'m not feelin' too well." Simon explains gently. "You and Johnny are gon’ start on ahead, and 'm gonna stay here for a while." Something, something logical, something smart, is shouting at you from the back of your mind but you shove it away, opting for delusion instead.

"Okay, you're going to catch up though, right? You said. We'll find-" You frowned, looking from him to Johnny as a sick feeling grew in your stomach. "Johnny?"

“Look at me.” Simon combs through your hair with trembling fingers, unsteady for the first time in your entire existence. “I love you, darling. I love you so, so much.”

“S-stop, we're supposed to stay together, you- you said-“

“You have to go with Johnny now, okay? He’s gonna take care of you.” He jerks you forward, closed mouth pressing against your forehead. "I love you."

“No, Si.” You sob, fingers curled in his vest. “You have to come with us. You have to, we’ll fi-find a cure, they’ll be help, somewhere.”

“Johnny.” He chokes, and a strong arm wraps around your waist, Johnny’s heavy, tearful breathing echoing just above your ear. Someone works your fingers free, pulling your hand away but not letting go, holding onto you like a lifeline.

You look up between him, to his face, to Simon’s and realize. They’ve already said goodbye.

Simon strokes the back of his fingers down Johnny’s cheek, tears dripping down his own.

“I love you both, more than anything. More than life.” He squeezes your hand, rubbing a thumb over the back of your knuckles, and then steps away, pulling the handgun from the holster on his thigh. "Take care of each other."

"NO!" you scream, but Johnny is dragging you backwards like a rag doll, away from where Simon stands in clearing, gaze never breaking from the two of you, face wet with tears. "Johnny!"

"Darling-" he chokes out amidst a sob. "Shhh, please. Please." He begs you to be quiet, to hush, but you can't, you can't stop screaming, or fighting him, trying to get back to Simon, to reunite your family, to stay together. You scream and scream until Johnny’s hand claps over your mouth, his own words clogged by his cries, pleading and begging until he's cutting off your oxygen with a desperate apology and lifting you over his shoulder like dead weight.

The last thing you hear before you lose consciousness is the sound of a gunshot.