Whumptober Day 3-Simon 'Ghost' Riley

Whumptober Day 3-Simon 'Ghost' Riley

✲Prompt: "Make it stop."

✲Warnings: angst, hurt to comfort, night terrors, feelings of panic

✲a/n: day 3 came out a little late yall i got sick and uni has been a little rough im sorry!

✲MINORS DNI (have your age in your bio or you're getting blocked)

You didn’t know what to do. Tears were streaming down your face while you were trying to restrain Simon as he was thrashing around from the night terrors that plagued his mind. You knew that he suffered from night terrors as he had mentioned it to you once the relationship got serious and you started to sleep over at his home. He had told you what to do in these moments, but the panic bubbling in your chest had caused you to draw a blank as to what needed to be done. 

“Simon it’s just me! It’s Y/N. You’re safe at home. It’s just me and you in your bedroom in Manchester, England.” His eyes shot open and his chest was rising and falling at a fast pace from his laborious breathing. It pained you to see him like this and you wish you could take all his pain away. His eyes frantically searched your face to see if you were okay after fully coming back to his senses and realizing you had to witness him like that. 

“I’m sorry you had to see that, sweetheart.” You wrapped your arms tightly around his middle and gave him a loving squeeze. “Simon, don’t ever be sorry about that. I’m sorry I can’t take it away from you and ease you of your troubles.” He felt your tears start to re-emerge and wet his chest. He tapped the bottom of your chin with two fingers to tilt your head to meet his. His warm hand cupped your cheek and wiped the flowing tears from under your bottom lash line. “Sweetheart, you’ve done enough for me already. You don’t need to worry your pretty self about me. Just having you next to me is enough to make me forget about the terrors anyway. You know how to make it stop by just loving me.” He quelled your hiccups with a chaste kiss against your swollen lips that you didn’t even realize you were biting.

 “Go to bed now love, everything will be okay.” You rolled your body over and slotted yourself perfectly against Simon’s body and he wrapped his large arms gently around your frame. You took in his scent that surrounded you and it grounded you and brought you the comfort you needed to sleep well through the rest of the night. Unbeknownst to you Simon spent the rest of the night awake so he didn’t have to worry about interrupting your rest again. He tried to distract his mind away from the dark looming clouds surrounding his brain by just admiring you and reminiscing about all the great memories you too have shared. You have already done enough to make Simon a happier and more content man. He wouldn't dare ask you to do more for him and be a shrink for him; he just couldn’t require that from you. 

𝖈𝖔𝖑𝖑𝖆𝖗𝖘 𝖆𝖓𝖉 𝖈𝖆𝖌𝖊𝖘 𝔞 𝔰𝔬𝔞𝔭 𝔪𝔞𝔠𝔱𝔞𝔳𝔦𝔰𝔥 𝔵 𝔯𝔢𝔞𝔡𝔢𝔯 𝔰𝔢𝔯𝔦𝔢𝔰 𝖕𝖙 3 — 𝖕𝖙 2 𝖍𝖊𝖗𝖊 wc - 7.2k warnings - 18+/nsfw, dom sub dynamic, hints of petplay, mild public play notes - part 3 kind of ran away from me, if you can't tell from the word count!! i had a lot of fun with this one, so i hope you enjoy! also on ao3! ♥

Life was teaching you early on in this budding relationship that life without Johnny drags. 

The first day or two he was gone wasn't so bad. Before he'd even left the country, he'd sent you an incredibly drool-worthy photo of him in his fatigues. You've spent more time looking at it over the past week or so than you probably should've—fixated on the size of his arms, the confident pose, and the mic set around his neck. 

The sight of that alone sent your thoughts reeling—and was the part you'd zoomed into on the most, beside Johnny's handsome face. 

Then came the voice note, the one you've been listening to on repeat—addicted to Johnny's words and voice. Finally, you have it captured to listen back to on demand. He'd sent you other voice notes since, shorter ones with "I'm thinking about you." or "Just met a street cat, his collar said his name is Halim!" with a photo accompanying it. 

Those made your heart sing, and your smile wide, but the last one he sent was him explaining he'd be going dark, and he'd message again whenever he could. 

That had been over a week ago now, and the radio silence left your nerves on edge, frayed and tested as you waited for any sign.

Some sense of salvation had come in the form of an after-work drinking session that turned into a full-blown night out—it was a welcome distraction and an oasis of general socialisation after your desert of solitude.

You were dressed up nice, getting a little tipsy and dancing the night away—only checking your phone as you pulled it out to pay for a drink. 

The missed call notification has you rushing to down the drink, so you can head out the back of the club. As soon as the pounding music fades away, you're pressing the phone to your ear and listening to the dial—it feeling tortuously slow as you wait for Johnny to pick up with every ring. Just before it goes to voicemail, his voice is blessing your ears once more. 

"Hey, pretty girl." He greets, his voice seemingly as bright as always. 

"Johnny!" You all but squeal in excitement, a heady combination of missing him and the effects of the alcohol making your enthusiasm bubble over.

He laughs, slow and sweet, as warmth spreads through your chest. "Missed me that much, aye?" 

You missed him far too much considering the current state of your relationship, but even in your intoxicated state, you know to keep that mostly to yourself. "Missed you so much!" You giggle, moving further away from the door as a group of people join you out back—cigarettes hanging from their fingers.

"Missed you too. Where are yer?" Johnny asks, clearly hearing the commotion in the background. 

"I'm out with some people from work, but I'll go home right now, I swear—" 

Johnny cuts you off before you can even finish your offer. "Don't you dare, lass, enjoy your night. I just wanted to let you know I'm back, tha's all."

Hearing from him was such a relief, and you are so glad he called—though now you don't want to stop talking again. "Does that mean we can meet soon?" You ask—voice light, flirtatious, and most importantly hopeful.

"I was thinking Sunday if that works for yer?" 

"Making me wait again, Sergeant?" You practically twirl your hair around your finger as you tease him, smiling unreservedly as you hold the phone to your ear. 

"Keep talking like tha' and I'll come down there right now." His growl is playful, but you can tell using his rank has some sort of effect on him. 

You pull your lip between your teeth, giggling once more and flushing with need. "Do it, I dare you." You taunt.

Johnny's sigh is a little defeated, his tone a little tired and flat compared to usual."I cannae, still got things to wrap up. Tha's why I said Sunday and not tomorrow, sweet thing." 

You relent with your joking, not wanting to keep up with teasing when Johnny seems a little... low. "You're worth the wait." You whisper into the phone, soft and sincere—you hope that makes him smile at least. 

"We'll sort out the details tomorrow, yeah?" 

You nod, even though he can't see it. "Sounds good." 

He perks up a little bit, even if it sounds somewhat forced. "Feel like doing me a favour before you get back to yer friends?"

"Anything." Your answer is instant, especially if it would cheer him up right now. Coming back from the things he must see has to be hard, and you can't blame him for continuing to be affected by it. Is that why he needed an extra day? To decompress and adjust back to being Johnny instead of a sergeant in the army? 

"Send me a picture of your outfit." The sentence lands somewhere between a question and a command—though you had every intention of complying anyway. 

"Yes sir." You answer instinctually, not putting too much thought into it until you hear Johnny's growl in response. The kind of growl that ignites something deep within you every time you hear it. 

His voice is low, rumbling down the phone with a hint of playful warning. "Bonnie..." 

"Sorry." You laugh lightly, before turning more sincere. "I'm glad you're safe, Johnny."

The line is silent for a moment, just long enough for you to worry you've said the wrong thing, but as always, Johnny washes away your doubt.  "I'm glad you waited for me." 

"Of course." A shiver passes over you, the night air making you want to retreat back inside. You wrap an arm around yourself as you brace yourself from the cold. "Talk tomorrow?"

"Tomorrow, for definite. Have a nice night, angel." His wish is sincere, the softness in his voice something you'll replay over and over again. 

"Night, Johnny." 

You wait for him to end the call before you rush back into the club, beelining straight for the bathroom to snap a picture just for Johnny. The dress isn't your usual clubbing outfit, having come straight from work, but you look cute, and you feel confident as you send the picture straight to Johnny.

The next day drags even more than the last few have, especially with the mild hangover thundering your skull. Every part of the day is just about going through the motions, getting through it, so you're one minute closer to seeing Johnny. Every moment is a little dull, until you find yourself waiting for him at the exit of the train station.

The excitement and the nerves wage war inside you—with each passing second, you're getting closer and closer to being swept up in Johnny's arms, to hopefully feeling like you're finally home. But with each second, you're inching closer to vulnerability, to risk, to the possibility that somehow he might decide after today that he never wants to see you again. 

Maybe he'll look at you and realise he doesn't quite like your body, or the way your mouth moves when you talk. Maybe he'll hate your mannerisms, or find that in person you're actually really boring to talk to. Perhaps he'll just know within moments of meeting you that you'll never be his home, never be his.

The thought is terrifying, crawling around the back of your mind as you scan every passing face in the hopes of seeing the silly little mohawk you long to run your fingers through. 

And when you do, the world stills.

You spot him before he spots you, and you get a moment to appreciate his searching gaze, his quietly confident swagger, the way his denim jacket stretches over his shoulders, and his shirt clings to his stomach. 

In short, he's a vision. All man—big and strong and beautiful. It takes everything within you to not launch yourself into his arms as soon as he gets close. 

He continues to look around as he makes his way through the ticket barriers, glancing between the crowds and his phone as he makes his way closer and closer. You emerge from your hidden spot, your legs carrying you without hesitation over to him—and when your eyes meet, you both stop completely still for just a moment. Nothing but wide smiles on your faces and a magnetic pull that draws you together. 

The bodies in between you are a hindrance, a barrier you both need to be gone as you weave through them before finally standing before each other—and at that moment everything feels right. 

"Wow." Johnny says as he looks you up and down and drinks all of you in.

"Wow yourself." You giggle, checking him out just the same and adjusting to just how much more handsome he is in person—as if such a thing were possible. "Hi Johnny." Even you are surprised by how breathless you sound, but it makes perfect sense when you consider how fast your heart is beating, how your hands are starting to shake. 

"Think I must be dreamin'" He blinks in disbelief, unable to keep the radiant, infectious smile off of his face. 

You blush deeply, and find you can no longer meet the intensity of his eyes. "Flatterer." Your word is a whisper as you push yourself to your tip toes and wrap your arms around Johnny's neck, pulling him in for a hug.

His strong arms wrap around your waist, holding you close, tightly enveloping you in a serene feeling of safety, as well as his fresh, masculine scent. 

Home. You think it's the closest you ever felt to it, bundled up in his arms as he cradles you like you're the most precious thing on earth to him. 

His hands roam over your back, caressing you so delicately and savouring every bit of you, as your own hands thread around the back of his neck, and you sink your fingers in, grasping him to ground yourself in the moment. It's real, he's real, and being in his arms feels so right it almost hurts. 

"You're even more gorgeous in person, bonnie." He whispers in your ear, breath hot and sending shivers all over your body. Thank god he's holding you upright, as your entire being is so vulnerable right now to every sensation. 

He pulls away slightly, but keeps you close, his eyes returning to yours once more, looking at you like you're everything. 

"I could say the same about you." You giggle, feeling self-conscious beyond belief. "Your eyes..." They're so blue, two oceanic pools of deep emotion, pulling you under the longer you stare. 

Everything you feel is reflected in his eyes—hope, bliss, excitement. 

"Grew them maself." He laughs, his nose wrinkling as he laughs at his own silly joke. 

He has you captivated entirely, as you drink in every single feature on his face—the strong brows, the scar on his lips, the dimples hidden behind his stubble. Every detail makes your heart thump against your rib cage, makes you want to reach out and trace your fingers over every little thing you discover. 

You're snapped out of your reverie when someone's bag brushes past you, and you remember you're in the middle of a train station, blocking people's way. 

"We should move out of the way." 

"Aye." He nods, slipping an arm around you so as to not lose contact as the two of you shuffle out of the path of the commuters. "Fuck. Am not letting you go now." 

His grip tightens around you as he pulls you in once more, hands settling on your waist as he stares down in adoration.

"Good." You can't help the smile on your face, so big and bright your cheeks hurt from how unwavering it is—that's just the feeling Johnny inspires. 

This time, it's him who seems affected by your gaze, as he averts his eyes from yours. "'s a bit weird, though." He admits, a strange shyness to his tone. 

Nothing about Johnny right now would suggest he's anything even close to nervous or uncomfortable, but you figure a man like him is very good at masking how he really feels. Your hands slip to his chest, your thumbs rubbing soothingly back and forth as you try to project a sense of calm to soothe you both. 

"Have you never done this before?" You ask, curiosity brimming but with no underlying judgement.

"No." His cheeks begin to redden as he glances at you briefly, a rare display of shyness from the seemingly endlessly confident man. "Don't laugh, it's ma first time." 

You continue your soothing gesture as you speak from the heart. 

"I wouldn't laugh! I have done this before, and I'm still so fucking nervous." Said nervousness escapes you in the form of a clipped laugh. "... If it wasn't obvious from the blushing and shaking." 

Johnny made you nervous, and yet peaceful all at the same time. His pull was irresistible, concrete, even if you stumbled to him on shaky legs. You knew what he might be feeling right now, if his heart was anything like yours. 

"Oh, am sweatin' a tonne right now, if ya cannae tell." His laugh and smile are almost disgustingly sweet, along with his unbracing honesty. Johnny really is something else, you think. 

You step away from him, intertwining your fingers into his much larger hand, as you start to lead the way out of the train station. "Better get you out into the fresh air then." 

The two of you walk in comfortable silence across the short distance until you're hit with the sun's warmth and a blast of cooler air. You start walking into the city centre, aiming to wander around for a little to kill time.  

As you walk, Johnny's grip tightens, and his hips sway playfully into your own, nudging you only to pull you back to his side with a bright grin on his face. "Meant what I said about not letting go of yer hand." 

"Keep it, it's yours." You squeeze back, looking up at Johnny to see him observing his surroundings keenly—must be a soldier thing, you muse. "Do you come here much?" 

"A little. Usually kept pretty busy back on base." He answers, glancing at you before taking in more of the area.

"Well, I guess you'll be getting familiar." You nudge his hips, returning his earlier playfulness as you flirt with him unashamedly.

His eyes are fixed on you now—a brow raised and a mirthful smile on his face at your assumption.

"Oh, will a now?" 

"I hope so." You admit sincerely, feeling the heat in your cheeks. If you keep smiling as much as you have so far, the expression will be permanently etched onto your face. "But that'll be more, so after we see the kitties. Our slots in 20 minutes, right?" 

"Aye, you excited?" He looks at you as if to confirm your true reaction, his eyes searching. 

"I am, honestly I was expecting just a normal coffee date but as soon as you suggested it, I couldn't let it go." You're practically rambling, but honestly, Johnny's suggestion was perfect. First, it let you know he enjoyed, or at least was at ease around cats, which was always a green flag. Plus, it was something different, catered to the two of you that shows he'd been thinking about it, and who wouldn't swoon at that? 

And on the off chance there was an awkward silence where you didn't know what to do, at least you had furry friends for you both to pay attention to. 

His eyes flicker with doubt for a moment, before he masks it with a distracting smile. "Was worried it might be a bit naff." 

If only he knew how much you had been freaking out about how cute you found the whole thing—and the fact that he might as well have just straight up said it was the beginning of your new dynamic together. You'd be his pet, the whole thing made perfect sense. "If it is naff, it'll only be because I might get jealous." 

"Ach, why?" He asks, seemingly finding the idea of you needing to ever feel such a thing ridiculous. 

You look up at him with soft, pleading eyes and a playful pout on your lips. "Well, you'll be giving all the cats head pats, but will you have any for me?" Even the tone of your voice is designed to tug at his heartstrings, slipping into your role so naturally. 

"I'll always have some for you, kitty." He laughs, letting go of your hand just to ruffle at your hair until you playfully shove him away—then he's grasping at you again, not wanting to relinquish contact for even a second. 

"Besides, they get to wear collars and flaunt it right in front of me. Don't they know what they're doing?" A suggestive smirk is directed at him, which he eagerly returns.

"Oh, you'll be in one before you know it, bonnie." He drops this news so casually, like it's the most natural thing in the world— as if the two of you are just having a regular conversation  "We'll come again, make them jealous right back." 

You swallow thickly, already aching for that eventuality—even if it may be a ways away.

"Sounds like a date." You mumble, filled with shyness and need. Coughing, you take a moment to compose yourself and steer the conversation away from something that will send your thoughts spiraling. "I did look through the website to see what kind of cats they had, and there's a cat with your name, different spelling though." 

Johnny pulls you closer, head dipping slightly to talk close to your ear, his tone dropping to a dangerous low. "Now I'm gonnae be the jealous one." 

His words make you shiver, make it difficult to keep walking like everything is fine—but you can flirt just like he can. You look up at him, fluttering your eyelashes prettily as you smile so sweetly. "I've only got eyes for one Johnny, don't worry." 

The blush that rises to his cheeks tells you that your act had the desired effect.

"That's what I like tae hear." He mumbles, squeezing your hand in an affectionate gesture. 

After wandering the high street for a short while and just enjoying each other's company, you circle back to your destination. The two of you enter the café, kick off your shoes (or boots for Johnny), and are seated at a table toward the back of the room— just a little out of sight from everyone else. You order a tea, while Johnny orders a flavoured coffee, giving you an insight into his tastes and preferences that makes you smile. 

You remind yourself to keep that information in mind for later, filing it away under your list of things about Johnny that you're sure will only expand throughout the day. 

When the server leaves the table, the two of you look upon each other fondly—shy smiles and burning cheeks. There are so many words at the tip of your tongue, so many things you want to say and ask and know about the man before you—as your brain buzzes with energy, so do your hands, feeling a little lost now they're no longer connected to any part of his body. 

It's easy to tell that Johnny sees more than he lets on, as he observes you before him and seemingly filters through your thoughts.

You return the favour and watch Johnny intently—eyes fixated as his tongue darts out to wet his lips, as his throat bobs as he swallows, and your brain is invaded with a deluge of inappropriate thoughts. 

Luckily, you're saved by the bell—a little tinkling noise from a cat beside you as it walks on by and demands your attention with a haughty meow.

"Look, there's Jonny!" You gasp quietly, the cat just a few feet away staring at you curiously. Taking it slow, you lower your hand to the ground and make no move toward the cat, waiting for it to get a smell and a feel for you. It isn't long before the cat in question is launching himself into your lap, drawing delighted laughs from both you and Johnny. 

You run your fingers through the thick fur of the white longhair, figuring out what spots the cat likes most. 

"He likes you." Johnny comments with amusement, shuffling ever so slightly closer until your thighs touch—his arm slips around the booth seat behind you as he settles in.

Your eyes meet his, your skin prickling with the intensity of his closeness. "Hopefully like the human version." 

"Definitely." The arm around the back of the seat comes to settle on your shoulders, as Johnny slowly moves his hand over to the cat and lets him sniff his fingers. Johnny's eyes brighten unmistakably when the feline nuzzles against his hand, and then he breaks out into a mischievous grin. "D'ya think he's cuter than me?" 

Johnny tilts his head to the side, almost puppylike as he preens at your attention—your eyes roaming over him as if you're making a difficult choice.

"Hmm. He has a lot more hair than you do, but I think you win." You give cat Jonny another stroke, while you smile at human Johnny with glee. "I'll have to feel how soft your hair is to make a real decision, though."

You say it mostly as a joke, but Johnny looks sincere as he urges you to do it. "Go on." 

You raise your hand, panic flowing through you as you hesitate for a moment—your fingers hovering inches away from Johnny's head. He leans into your touch, as you stroke through the short tufts of hair. "It's... so soft." You admit, pulling away quickly before you get carried away. 

"What did yer think it was gonna feel like?" Johnny asks with a barked laugh that you can't help but return. 

You crinkle your nose, because honestly, with the fact he clearly uses styling products to make his mohawk stand on end, you hadn't expected it to feel as soft and pleasant as it did. "I don't know, I can't imagine you have premium shampoo and conditioner in the army." 

"They're just naturally luscious locks, dinnae what to tell yer." He swishes his head playfully, as if he's flipping a head full of hair. 

"Effortlessly flawless, just like the rest of you." You tease him, joining in the joking. 

"Oh aye?" He asks with a wink, playfully fishing for more compliments. 

Not that he needs to fish, you think. Surely Johnny knows how handsome he is, and even before meeting him, you've gushed over his good looks.  

Still, you look upon him with genuine admiration and rapidly unfolding infatuation, you're exalting words tumbling freely from you without much thought. "You're just so... gorgeous, godlike, really."  

"As are you, bonnie. Cannae believe it." The look in his eyes is so real, so intense it makes your heart twinge, and leaves no room for you to doubt the sincerity of his words.

The two of you continue to stare into each other's eyes, enjoying the silent conversation that seems to pass between the two of you—the unspoken desire and adoration. 

"Are we just gonna spend the day staring at each other?" You giggle, breaking the moment when it becomes a little bit too intense for you.

"Wouldnae be such a bad thing." Johnny replies swiftly, ever so smoothly. 

Jonny the cat takes that moment to crawl off your lap, rubbing himself along Johnny as he all but demands pets from the man. Johnny indulges him instantly, large fingers scratching at that perfect point between the kitty's ears. Watching it shouldn't make you blush as much as it does.

"I think he likes you too." 

Johnny nods, a serious look on his face. "He knows we're chums."

"You must give really good head pats." You tease, wishing you could take the words back as soon as you said them. Was saying such a thing too much too soon? Was it too early to start to invoke elements of your potential future dynamic? 

Johnny meets your eye, his lips curling into a smirk as his eyes turn mischievous. "Wanna find out?" 

"Of course." Your response is instant, breathless—already offering yourself up to the man before you. You quickly remember your manners. "Please."

Johnny lets the cat on his lap jump down before he turns his attention to you fully, his hand settling on top of your head as he gently, carefully caresses you. Your body is quickly overwhelmed with shivers, an electric sensation coursing through you as his fingers dip deeper into your hair, massaging at the back of your neck until your eyes start to slip shut from the sheer bliss. 

They shoot back open when his fingers dip the chain on your neck, tugging sharply enough to get your attention without putting any real force behind it.

He leans in as if to share a secret, his smirk wolfish as you continue to react so perfectly to his touch. "Nice choker, by the way, pet." 

"Wore it just for you." You whisper, words weak as you tremble with so much need for Johnny. 

He's pulling back, taking all his warmth with you, before he strokes through your hair one more time. "That's my girl."

You could burst into flames right now, or simply melt under the intensity of his gaze. Not even an hour into date one, and you can already feel how wet this man has made you, how much he makes your heart call out to him. Your body and soul burn with need, already wanting more of him in every way.

"Fuck." You sigh in frustration, burying your head into his shoulder to hide your aroused expression. "I hate that there's so many people around right now." 

"Feeling naughty?" He chuckles in such a knowing way, because he knows exactly what he's doing and how you feel about it. 

You meet his gaze, eyes desperate and pleading for mercy. "Johnny, I feel drunk and mindless already and you haven't even actually done anything." 

He moves one of your hands from your thigh to his, holding onto it for a moment. He won't offer you mercy, but he will at least let you see how you make him feel too. "Can I borrow your hand?" 

"Why?" You ask reflexively, before your thoughts catch up to you. Oh. Oh!" 

You allow him to move your hand further up his thigh until your fingers graze over the hardness in his jeans, and you have to stifle your gasp with your other hand.

"Why am letting the cats come to me insteada the other way around." He whispers, voice gravelly and strained. 

The feelings both his words and his body inspire in you are dangerous, causing you to act as you palm at his cock through his jeans, listening to the hitches in his breath as you begin to stroke and caress. He's rock solid, all before you even laid a hand on him, and it's addicting to you that he's clearly in just as deep as you are—that he sees all this as you do. 

His hand moves to grab at your wrist, warning but not painful. "Ach, quit it." He groans, now on the receiving end of such wonderful torture.

"You started it." You whine, taking the chance to grasp him one more time before you stop your teasing. "Johnny you're fucking huge." 

Already your head spins just contemplating it, but Johnny only adds to your delirium. 

"Wait until it's stuffin' yer little cunt full." He purrs, lips brushing against your skin as he does, and you have to resist the urge to moan aloud.

You take a deep breath, forcing yourself to pull away from Johnny as you slip out of the booth. "Okay, I need a breather, join me at the cat tree when you've... calmed down." 

His smile is devilish, as he watches you go, content to spectate from afar as you coo over the kittens until he can join you.

Your time at the café passes quicker than either of you would have liked, and when it's time for you to vacate your table, the server approaches once more with a bill for the teas and coffees you had enjoyed. 

"Will you be paying together or separately?" They ask, which causes you to glance at Johnny questioningly.

You'd already, in your mind, prepared yourself to offer one or both halves of the bill.

Johnny speaks before you can. "Together." He insists, reaching for his wallet and offering his card to the server—not allowing any room for argument. 

You stay silent until the transaction is complete and the two of you are alone again, before you decide to address it. "Johnny... I would've paid." 

He shakes his head, flipping his wallet shut as he slips it into his back pocket. "Don't be ridiculous." 

You open your mouth to offer further protest, but his brows quirks as he almost challenges you to say another word.

Accepting defeat, you smile graciously and sincerely. "Thank you."

"My ma would pitch a fit if she found out I let yer pay." He continues to wave it off like it's nothing. "Let me spoil yer, aye? You'll hafta get used to it anyway. Okay, kitty?" 

You're not sure if it's the idea of him spoiling you or the nickname that makes you shiver the most, but the combination of both makes your head spin.

"I better start thinking of ways to repay you." You joke, throwing him a flirtatious wink as your hand snakes under his jacket to stroke at his chest. 

Johnny pulls back, face flashing with a realisation and a bright grin. "Oh, before I forget." 

You watch him, just a touch confused, as he reaches into his jacket and pulls out a small, patterned paper bag—he hands it straight to you. "Got yer a little somethin'" 

"Johnny..." You groan playfully, having not expected a gift, or having brought anything for him either. 

"It's nothin', promise." He smiles, encouraging you to open it. 

You peel open the paper bag to find a handmade, woven bracelet inside—one you've seen in countless stalls across your life, but the sight doesn't fail to make your heart sing.

"Oh my god, a friendship bracelet?" Your delighted gasp is genuine, as you feel touched by the gesture. 

"Needed to buy something at a souvenir shop. Y'know blend in, look like a tourist." He shrugs casually. "Thought of you." 

"I love it, thank you." You clutch it to your chest, genuinely so pleased. "Did you get yourself one?" 

"No?" Johnny plucks the bracelet from you, as he takes hold of your wrist and gets to tying the threads together. 

You pout, half joking and half serious, as you realise you won't be matching. "Wow, guess we're not friends then." 

"Puppy." His tone is warning and serious, drawing your attention to him so obediently. 

You swallow, nerves flooding through you. "Yeah?" 

His eyes never waver from yours, the sincerity within making you tremble. "The things I'll do to yer, friends don't do tae each other, yeah?" His low tone and the lack of a playful smile make you clench. 

"Understood." You nod dumbly, too awestruck and aroused to give him a real response. 

"Good girl." He grins, patting your wrist with the bracelet now attached. "Ready to go?" 

"Yeah..." 

He takes your hand in his once more, leading you back to the entrance to collect your shoes before you make it back onto the street. All the while, you turn his words over in your head, desperately holding on to the soaring feeling in your chest and the pit of arousal deep inside you. The effect he has on you is downright vicious.

"Where to now?" He asks, waiting for you to lead him around the city. 

The cooler air of the street helps calm you down, as you steer your thoughts back to more appropriate things. 

"I was thinking we could just walk around, window-shop. Maybe grab some dinner? When have I got you til?" 

"Last train is at 9." 

You sigh wistfully, already dreading the moment he has to feel. "Doesn't feel like long enough." 

"You'll be sick of me by then, lass." He chuckles, his smile still making you feel as full as it did the first time you saw it. 

"Not if you're sick of me first."

The two of you take in the city streets hand in hand for a little while, wandering around the shops and chatting about anything and everything. The conversation comes just as easy as it always does, and before long the two of you head for something to eat and drink at a nearby pub.

The atmosphere is cosy as the two of you tuck yourselves away at a table in the corner, order your food and drinks and get to chatting once more. You've already teased Johnny for ordering another coffee along with his meal, while he needled you for ordering several side dishes instead of a main. 

Both of you are excited to tuck in when the food arrives, and your conversation turns to getting to know more about the other. 

"So, what can you tell me about work?" You ask, finally feeling brave enough to broach the subject. Johnny's work will come with a lot of complications, you already know that, and one of them is likely that he will have to be careful about the things he shares. That doesn't stop your curiosity, though. 

"What d'ya wanna know?" He responds, open and earnest, as he dips a chip into his sauce.

You think for a moment, trying to conjure up your most pertinent questions. "Who do you work with?" 

Johnny swallows his food before wiping his hands on his napkin and pulling out his fun. He turns it to you when he brings up a photo, zoomed in on an older man in tactical gear.

"Well, first there's the Captain, Price. Best captain we could ask for." He comments, looking to you for your response.

Something in the Captain's eyes tells you he's dependable, and you can hear the respect he holds from Johnny's voice. 

"Interesting facial hair." You giggle, referencing the grown-out mutton chops that surprisingly suit him.

Johnny laughs, nodding in agreement. "Oh aye, a right character he is." He swipes along the photo to another man, much younger but tall too.

His smile is the first thing you notice, so bright and earnest, and with perfect teeth. 

"Gaz, Kyle. We're always getting into shit together." He adds with a mischievous chuckle. "Good lad though."  

"He looks nice." You offer, before scrolling across the image yourself. 

The next man in line is the tallest and broadest, his face hidden behind a skull mask that you find strangely endearing. "Ooh, cool mask." 

"That's Ghost." Johnny whispers, his voice more sombre than before.

The lack of a real name combined with the mask confuses you. "Just Ghost?" You ask. 

"Aye, unless he tells you otherwise. Scary motherfucker, loves a good dad joke though." Johnny humanises him, and the fondness within his voice doesn't escape you. 

All in all, you're left with more questions than answers, but you already feel privileged that Johnny has shared this much with you. Still, there's something pressing on your mind. "Everyone gets a nickname, what's yours?" 

"Soap." He answers firmly, a slight smile tugging at his lips.

"Soap? Why?" You can't say you're familiar with military nicknames, but Soap certainly seems like a strange one. 

"Am good at cleaning house." There's something underlying his playful tone that you can't quite put your finger on, something hinting at the inevitable darkness underneath. 

Johnny pushes past it like it never happened, turning the attention back on you. "How's your work, anyway?"

"Boring, though I imagine every job is compared to yours." You pause, taking a sip of your drink as you try to conjure up anything interesting about your career. "I work at my PC all day and the highlight is office gossip, which is often about one or two messy people fucking everyone in the building." 

"Like reality TV, but you live it?" He smirks, already seeming amused by the inevitable stories he'll get to hear. It seems Johnny might be a little bit of a gossip. 

"Yes, exactly!" You giggle, finding his intrigue endearing. "So I live in reality TV and you live in one of those gritty military shows." 

"Pretty much." He clicks his tongue, turning to take a sip of his own drink as his eyes glaze over again. 

You dread to think of all the things he's seen—witnessing them on TV is already too much for you, never mind seeing them for real. 

"... It must be tough." You offer earnestly, unsure of what else to say. 

"Sometimes, it's no' so bad, really." He shrugs, a tight smile on his lips. "I'd rather not talk about it while I'm with yer, not now anyway. That okay?" 

The softness in his eyes fuels the guilt gripping at your chest—you never meant to pry or make him uncomfortable, only to offer yourself up as a safe space. "Yeah, I'm sorry." 

"Nothing to apologise for. You'll have plenty of time to get to know that part of me, tha's all." He gives you a smile, a more earnest one this time, as he refuses to let either of you settle in a solemn moment. Instead, he redirects to the idea of you spending time together in the future. 

"Oh, I will?" You ask, voice hopeful—any negative emotions swirling away as Johnny reaches out to stroke your hand.

"Already planning our second date in ma head." He winks cheekily, that gorgeous smile back on his face in full effect. 

You settle back into your meal with a contented warmth spreading through you, feeling like there's nowhere else you'd rather be than by Johnny's side.

When you make it to the train station hours later, your heart starts to sink as you get closer and closer to your goodbye. The sun is only just beginning to dip into the sky, but the train schedule demands Johnny's return to Hereford. 

The two of you stand before the departure boards, savouring your last moments together as you hold each other close.

"How are yer getting home?" Johnny asks, ever the gentleman. 

You don't look him in the eye as you speak words you know he isn't going to enjoy hearing, in fact, you all but hide in his chest as you mumble. "I was planning on walking." 

He stiffens, pulling away slightly. "I'll order an uber." His words are laced with a protectiveness—and whether it's his instincts as a man, a soldier, or a dom you're not sure. Likely, it's a combination of all, making him determined to get you home safe and sound. 

You already know better than to argue with him on this. "I can order my own uber." 

His eyes soften, clearly relaxing upon hearing you relent so easily. "Promise?" 

You nod. "I swear, I will." 

You cuddle back into his chest again, the two of you clinging to each other. With your ear pressed against him, you can hear the steady rhythm of Johnny's heart, and you focus on it beating as you absorb every last moment with him. 

That moment is interrupted by the station announcement, informing you that the next train to depart will be his. 

"I better get going." He loosens his grip on you but still holds your arms as he stares down at you adoringly. 

"Don't want you to." You admit, voice a little forlorn. It already hurts to let him go, especially since you don't know when you'll see each other again. Johnny could be deployed again at any moment, and after making all of this real, the thought seems paralysing.

"I don't want to either, but I'll see yer soon." He whispers soothingly, a hand stroking across your cheek as the promise falls from his lips. 

You force yourself to smile, to feel strong in the face of your separation. Something within you urges you to put on a brave face, to show Johnny that you can be resolute for him. "We'll have to think more on a cool date number two idea." 

"We will." He nods, fingers still stroking oh so delicately across your cheek, as his eyes flicker down to your lips. "Bonnie?" 

"Yeah?" Your response is barely audible, your breath stolen as you know what's coming next, and you crave it so desperately. 

"Gonna kiss yer now, if tha's alright."

"Please." 

Johnny closes the final inches as he presses his lips to yours—soft and gentle at first as his hand cups your cheek, before the other comes to grasp at you too, holding you in place as he deepens the kiss. Your body floods with euphoria, desire, peace—as you kiss back with everything you have and pour all of yourself into him. 

The two of you are lost in each other, all grasping hands and lips caressing lips—two hearts opening up to each other. 

Johnny is the only one of you with enough restraint to pull away, settling his forehead against yours as he smiles unreservedly—his eyes shining with delight. "Fuckin' Christ." 

You push against his chest, putting some distance between you as you giggle. "You better go before we commit acts of public indecency." 

"Aye." He nods, yet he tucks a finger under your chin to angle your mouth up at him. "One more?" 

You nod enthusiastically before diving back in, savouring his lips on yours—the taste of coffee, the softness contrasted with his stubble, the hint of a groan that rumbles through him. 

"Okay." He sighs, forcing himself to step away, even if your hands remain linked. "Message me when you get home, yeah?" 

"I'll be texting you the second you leave, sorry." 

"Oh, I was planning on doing the same, dinnae worry." He winks.

Reluctantly, you let him go—instantly feeling a little more lost without him at your side. 

"See you soon, Johnny." You call out, smile soft as he makes his way over to the ticket gate. 

"Not if I see yer first, sweetheart." He calls back, then turns his attention away to scan his ticket at the barrier. 

On the other side, he catches your eye once more, offering you a tiny, playful salute before he turns to make his way to his train. 

You're left in a weird state between euphoria and emptiness—feeling like you have everything and nothing at the same time. Johnny was everything you could've wanted and more, and you're already counting down the days until you can see him again. 

You watch until his silhouette disappears, and turn your attention to your phone to get to ordering that uber you promised him you'd take. When you unlock your phone, a message from Johnny is waiting for you. 

Miss you already, my pretty kitty <3

Whumptober Day 1-John 'Soap' MacTavish

✲Prompt: Swooning

✲Coffee Shop AU

✲Warnings: none just really fluffy

The seasons started to change from from the warm and dewy spring weather, to the blistering heat of summer, and now the leaves are starting to develop their warm-toned hues. As a barista the autumn season was your favorite as the drinks and treats your store provided made you feel cozy. You loved your job and the various people you get to meet and the regulars you build a cordial relationship with. As of recently, there has been one customer that has piqued your interest. 

Johnny. That was his name and hearing him say it for the first time when you needed a name provided for the order made your heart stutter in your chest. He had you hooked with his winsome smile, thick accent, and his unique haircut. Despite what anyone says about a mohawk haircut he pulls it off way better than anyone should. The man was enigmatic, to say the least. He would come to the shop twice a week: Wednesdays and Fridays. He would always order a hot blonde roast coffee with two sugars and the slightest amount of half and half. He wasn’t a man of frills you noticed. 

The first encounter you had with him at the register you were a mess. Your words were rushed and jumbled together and you couldn't bring yourself to make eye contact with him. As the weeks started to pass by you were able to build up some confidence and hold conversations with him. It could be something as small as you greeting him first with a ‘good morning’ when he walks through the door or even questions getting to know him such as asking what his favorite color is so you know what color straw to give him for his coffee. Just the simple things. 

He never stays around after he receives his coffee order you have also come to notice. He would thank you with a bright smile and beeline straight to the door. Today you have come to notice that after you had taken his order he found a table in the corner of the store and started to make himself comfortable by taking out a laptop and charger and setting up whatever paperwork he needed to get done. This had surprised you, but you tried to pay no mind to it. Once his coffee was done you called his name and he coolly strode over with a smirk on his face. He thanks you and in one fluid movement, he takes the coffee but slides a small slip of paper into your palm. “Here’s my number. Wanted to try to get to know a Bonnie gal like you a little more. Send me a text later.” And with that, he sent himself off with a wink and once you saw he was in his seat and you were out of his line of sight you held the paper close to your chest while trying to calm the grin plastered onto your face. You were starting to get giddy just thinking of all the possibilities that could come out of seeing Johnny outside of work.

Pillow Fucker Konig

warnings: this is really self explanatory... a/n: wanted to take a mini break from whumptober so this is what i decided to come up with :3 MINORS DNI (have your age in your bio or you're getting blocked)

Virgin Konig is definitely a pillow fucker. When he can’t get the thought of you out of his mind and his hand is not enough he’s pathetic enough to resort to his pillow. All he can see imprinted into his brain is the sight of you bending over to pick up a pen you dropped and getting a full panty shot of the black thong you were wearing. Your ass was on full display and he couldn’t contain himself for the rest of the day at work. All you were was the base secretary and he didn’t pay much attention to you before, but now you’re all he wants and he needs to indulge in every part of your body and make you his toy. He whimpers as he ruts his leaky thick cock between the pillow imagining it was your ass instead he was pressing himself between. He squeezes the pillow tighter around himself when he's yearning to fuck your cunt and is a panting mess when he spurts his cum all over his cottony sheets. He has no shame about this either and will continue to do it until he’s worked up enough courage to finally ask you out to a lunch date or whatever romantic event would be enough to woo you.

Whumptober Day 4-John Price

✲Prompt: "You in there?"

✲Warnings: angst, little bit of military talk, feelings of self-doubt/incapability

✲a/n: yall get pretty much back to back whump drabbles since i posted day 3 super late so i hope you enjoy!

✲MINORS DNI (have your age in your bio or you're getting blocked)

You fled to your room with such urgency as soon as the heli touched down on the landing pad. You couldn’t stand the embarrassment anymore. You had just come back from an op with the rest of Task Force 141. You were a sniper that was most recently brought onto the team so you definitely felt like you needed to prove yourself. Needless to say, you got too gung-ho about your capabilities and missed a shot before the order was even given a direct order to let off the shot. You acted without thinking as soon as you saw the target in your sight, but you gasped as soon as you saw the target look directly into your scope and it made you miss your shot. 

All chaos had broken loose and the entire task force had gotten ambushed and had gotten more injured than what was expected for the mission. Worst of all it took months to even get a lead for the target and lord knows how long it's going to take for anyone to find a lead now especially since the target and his mob were now aware the task force knew about their operations. 

Ghost gave you a new asshole with how hard he tore into your mistake and immediately requested for Price to take you off the team. It was so hard to hold your tears back the entire helicopter ride back. You felt everyone's sorry stares on you and it made you want to just crawl into a hole and bury yourself away from this situation.

Now you’re hiding in your room and solemnly start to pack the very few belongings you do have into a duffel bag. The saddest part about this is it finally felt like you were part of a team that could become family. Soap, Gaz, and Price welcomed you warmly and made you feel like you belonged. Now you had thrown everything out the window due to a missed shot. Who knew everything could turn so fast due to a mistake? You know how much is put on the line due to this line of work, but you never knew it was going to be you that would compromise an operation. Especially to this extent.

As you zipped up the duffel bag you heard a knock on your door. Everything froze at once. You deliberated hiding under your sheets and pretending to not even hear it, but another knock came rattling against the door of your quarters. “Kid, you in there? It’s Price, open up!” You straightened yourself and quickly tried to fix your disheveled state.” Once opening the door you saw the soft smile on Price’s face but it looked somber. This felt like a goodbye before it even started so you felt the need to rip off the bandage from now to ease some of the pain.

“Sir I know what I did compromised the mission and the entire task force. What I have done cannot be taken back and I have packed all my bags and will leave the second you tell me my departure date and time.” You gazed down at your feet as you babbled to Price. He placed a hand on your shoulder and this stopped your spiel. You looked up into his eyes trying to figure out what he was thinking as his facial expression was hard to read. 

“Kid, listen I’m not kicking you off the team. Despite how Ghost acts, I’m the one who calls all the shots here. You will be put on probation for the next three months and will have your skills assessed at the end of each month. We all make mistakes, but I don’t want you to think that you aren’t good enough for this team. I hand-selected you and I only pick the best. Just get some rest and we will reconvene tomorrow.” You nodded dumbly and he wished you a final farewell with a hug. You slid down the door trying to sort out all the emotions you were feeling, but your heart rate had started to pick up and distract you. Why do I feel this way just from a hug from Price?

Oh. Oh!

Whumptober Day 6-Simon 'Ghost' Riley

✲Prompt: “It should have been me.”

✲Warnings: angst, death, car crash, feelings of grief

✲a/n: im having so much fun with whumptober so far buuuuut i think i gotta slow down with the posting after this week its getting really draining to post every day. its not set in stone, but we'll see this is just a heads up that if you see my posts slow down you know why

✲MINORS DNI (have your age in your bio or you're getting blocked)

The days have been devoid of color since your death. It’s been four months since your tragic passing. It was so unexpected. You were on your way home from work and had Simon on speakerphone as you were driving. You were just droning on about your day at work telling him that nothing spectacular or out of the ordinary had happened. He was half listening as he was folding up a fresh load of laundry that was still warm from the dryer. You were less than six minutes away from your home until a car suddenly shot out into the road and despite your fast reflexes you couldn’t brake in time and the two cars collided. Simon heard the commotion and felt his blood run cold. He shouted your name hoping that he would hear your voice call out to him, but it was nothing. He heard the clamor of other people’s voices on the phone, but none of theirs was yours. 

He flung down the clothes, grabbed his keys and sprinted out the door. His eyes quickly scanned the screen of his phone trying to pinpoint your location and started to drive. He was thankful you weren’t too far from home and was able to reach your location in no time. He dissociated the entire ride. He was out of it and just needed to see your face to snap back into reality. The road was already surrounded by police cars and ambulances and the sirens were just a dull buzz in Simon’s ears. None of this was making sense for him. He rushed over to the closest officer to see if he could get any insight on how you were. 

“My wife is in this crash! I need to see her and make sure she’s okay. She drives the silver sedan!” The officer jumped when he turned around and saw Simon’s hulking figure and heard his loud and abrasive voice. “Sir, you need to stand back. Once we retrieve your wife from the wreckage we’ll be able to tell you on how to proceed.” Simon was anxiously waiting trying not to make this harder than it needed to be. He saw the paramedics bring out a gurney towards the car you drove and once he saw your limp and bloody body he lost all control. He sprinted towards the ambulance that you were put in, but the paramedics closed the doors before he could get a better glance at you. 

“Please I need to see my wife let me in!” One of the stockier-built men stepped up to Simon to put space between him and the other paramedics just in case they thought Simon was about to lash out. “Sir we’re taking her to the nearest emergency hospital 3 miles from here but we need to leave now if we want her to have any chance of survival. She needs to be put into surgery now. Just follow the truck and you can wait in the waiting room.” Simon nodded and said nothing in response as he jumped into his car and trailed the ambulance that swerved through traffic with its sirens blaring.

Simon couldn’t relax in the waiting room. This was the only time he’d ever felt so wound up in his life. His feet incessantly tapped the linoleum tile and his hands gripped the edge of the leather seat until his knuckles were white and his veins popped out. He knew your surgery was going to be a while after suffering such a traumatic injury and he would wait lifetimes if that meant that you were going to be okay, but the minutes felt like they were dragging on and it was starting to feel unbearable.  

“Mr. Riley?” His head shot up as he had a doctor's request for him. He stood up and followed the doctor into the hallway. He noticed that the doctor’s facial expression was hard to read, but he tried not to panic. “Sir, I am so sorry to say that the surgery was not a success. Your wife had multiple bones broken and there was too much blood loss despite giving a blood transfusion. Her body went into shock and we could not bring her back.” Simon’s ears were ringing and his body was trembling. He was stuck in place. He couldn’t even process the grief. Everything was numb. 

The doctor gave Simon a pamphlet for cremation and burial services and then led him down to the morgue so he could get one final look. Your body was covered with a pristinely white sheet up to your collarbones and your eyes were closed. You were so much paler than Simon could ever imagine you and it stunned him. He’s seen multiple people die in his life due to his career, but he would never want to see you like them. It was entirely too much. Simon couldn’t do anything but silently cry. He caressed your cheek and pushed back your hair to place a last kiss on your forehead. The coldness of your skin made this whole situation really sink in for him.

“You didn’t deserve this, my love. It should’ve been me.”