Sweetcheeks
If you told younger Simon that ten years from now that he would be laying in bed with his wife,he’d scoff and say you were crazy.
But he is.
You leave some sweet kisses down his bare back,fingers splaying over his tattooed and scared skin.
“Lovie,I gotta get up.” He sleepily murmured,even though he’d rather die then get out of bed right now.
“Shut up.” You sweetly say,hands wrapping around his midsection,softer from 2 years of retirement. (Dad bod!Simon has got me bricked up and I don’t even have the proper utensils)
He loved the feeling of early mornings with you,nowear to go or people to see. He also loves the feeling of your warm hands running up and down his body. But he felt like he needed to do something to be productive.
“Lovie,it’s 10,I have to go.”
“You’ve been going places for a long time while you were in the military. Let me hold you,sweet cheeks.”
He scowled a bit.
Sweetcheeks?
This 6’ man,feared by many,with hundreds of scars gets called Sweetcheeks?
“Don’t frown Si,you’ll get wrinkles.” You joke.
Fine,I guess he can stay another ten minutes…or an hour.
