Locked Out On Valentine's (Ending: You didn't take the tea)
Pairing: Simon "Ghost" Riley x Fem!Reader
C/W: Smut, unprotected P in V, Somnophilia, poor foreplay, possessiveness
Word Count: 1k
Previous part
“You want some tea, love?”
***
You’re inclined to accept but don’t want to be too demanding while he’s so kind to let you sleep on his couch.
You put on your best smile, “I’m alright, thank you.”
”I thought I’d offer, keep your head up, yeah?” He says sympathetically before heading off down the hallway. You turn off the floor lamp at the other end of the couch and scroll through your phone, mentally scolding yourself every time you think about going to your ex’s socials to see if he’d posted any pictures of him and your ex-best friend. Your heart pangs with sadness. You dared to open yourself up to two people and got humiliated twice over. You bite back tears, throwing your phone down and trying your best to fall asleep despite the gaping hole in your chest.
Simon struggled with sleep usually. It wasn’t something he shared with just anyone. He tosses and turns all night and when he does finally find the slumber he’s chasing he’ll jerk awake at the scenes of horrible memories that weigh heavily on his mind. But tonight was different.
The ‘intel girl’ was finally within reach. The boys at work would go quiet every time she would walk by and once she disappeared they talked about their various plans to be the one to chat her up.
He lies awake with his thoughts racing, thinking of her. Thinking of the way she looked at him when he opened his door to her. The way her tank top clung to her, the supple flesh of her breasts outlined perfectly, and the image burned into his mind of when she leaned over the couch, her shorts riding up her toned thighs and the curve of her ass… He felt as if he was running a fever.
He throws the covers to the side letting the cool air hit his overheated skin. He readjusts his sweats, setting his manhood free. He strokes himself to mental images of you to no avail. It’s not enough for him after having you so close. He yearns to feel your skin against his, the need eats away at him.
His mind begins to tell him that you need him, heartbroken and so needy. Why else would you show up looking the way you did? What if getting locked out of your room was just a scheme to get near him?
He knows you’re attracted to him. The sly glances you always send his way when the two of you pass each other. The flustered look you get when he speaks to you, no matter how brief. It had all been a call to him, of all the men hunting for you, you’d already chosen him.
Before he knows it, he’s opening his bedroom door and standing over your sleeping body. You lie on your side, one palm resting atop the other. So soft in your sleep, unbothered. He wants to reach out and run his fingers over your tear-stained cheeks.
He climbs over you and carefully lodges himself between you and the backrest. He slowly wraps his arms around you and breathes in your scent. He wonders for a moment if this is the best way to let you know the feeling is mutual, but he knows he won’t have the courage to let you know any other way.
He leaves soft kisses on your shoulder, leading them to your neck. He restrains himself from biting the skin, leaving his mark on you, afraid that it’ll wake you too soon. His rough hands squeeze your breasts, caressing them over your clothing. You stir slightly in your sleep causing him to halt for a moment. He continues his scheme and trails down your stomach slipping his hand beneath your shorts. He moves his thigh in between yours to give himself room.
The pads of his fingers rub slow circles into your clit as he lies there breathing you in. You whine in your sleep. He leaves open-mouthed kisses on your delicate neck, speeding up the pace he was toying your clit with. You fuss in your sleep, the foreign feeling disrupting your dreams. Your absentminded moans spur him on. He presses his bulge against your backside, sighing into your neck.
”Simon?” You half slur half moan. He shushes you, working your clit in tight circles. Your hand grips his forearm weakly.
“S’alright, doll. I’ve got you.”
He runs a finger over your slit feeling the drip from your cunt. He can’t contain himself any longer, needing to feel you, hear you cry out for him.
”I’m sorry, love. I’ll make it up to you.” You barely comprehend what he says. He feels bad for not preparing you properly but the blood rushing to his cock has left him painfully hard. You unknowingly contributed to the unbearable ache.
He yanks your shorts off and places your leg over his, spreading you wide open. He wraps his hand around his throbbing length and runs his leaking tip over your folds, lubricating it before he pushes into you.
The resistance forces a gasp from you, stilling your body as he carefully thrusts himself into you. You dig your nails into his thigh trying to push yourself away.
”Easy, easy.” He coos at you, caressing your back with his lips. His arms wrap around your waist, your arm trapped under his heavy biceps. He continues with his shallow thrusts until he’s almost fully in.
”I’ll stop here, love. Deep breath for me.” He speaks so lovingly between his own ragged breaths, as if he hadn’t woken you up with his hand down your shorts. You finally suck in a breath and he pulls out. He waits for you to exhale and shoves himself back in. You squeak, the friction mixes with pleasure. Your brain is still recovering from the fog and unsure if this is actually happening. He gives you a few slow thrusts before his stride increases.
You whine loudly, not prepared for his hurried movements. He apologizes in your ear repeatedly, gasping and groaning at your tightness.
“Fuck, I needed you so bad, love. I hope you understand.” He loses his self-restraint, littering you with bite marks, wanting it to be known that you were taken. You cry out in pain as it shoots through your neck and shoulder, his teeth digging into you. He licks the wounds, soothing your irritated skin.
He rams into your cervix and you shutter in his arms.
”Too deep!” You cry out once more.
“Forgive me.” He brings two of his fingers to his mouth, wetting them before bringing them down once more to run frantic circles into your clit.
Your uneven gasps turn to moans and your eyes shut tightly. His thrusts are still violent and overbearing, but the tingles running through you once his fingers slip over the nub, paired together make you drool onto the pillow below you.
His hard thrusts jolt you upwards. He growls into your neck sending shivers through your spine.
“Simon!” You whimper. His eyes nearly roll back hearing you call out his name.
“That’s right, doll. Say my name. Let everyone hear you.” He growls. His unoccupied hand wraps firmly around your neck. He forces your back into an arch. Taking advantage of the new angle he pounds into you, the pleasure that rolls through you is dizzying. Your legs try to close but he forces them open. Your mouth hangs but you can’t bring yourself to make a single sound.
“You look so fucking beautiful. So gorgeous.” He breathes out. Your eyebrows once furrowed from the shocks running through you with each thrust now furrow in confusion.
”Look at yourself, look how beautiful you look getting fucked by me.”
You open your eyes, looking around trying to figure out what he meant. He forces your head in the right direction and your eyes land on the reflection of the two of you off the window.
It was hard to make out, fuzzy but from where you lied you could see your faces. His hair was stuck to his forehead, his lips parted briefly before his jaw clenched, your mouth still hanging open, legs wide. Your pussy clamps down on him when you see his hand between your legs and his cock disappearing into you. He moans and you watch as he nips your shoulder and then nudges his nose into your hair.
”Squeezin’ the life out of me, darlin’.”
The sight is so pornographic a new wave of wetness comes over you. He slips in and out of you with a delicious slickness.
Without warning you begin spasming around him. The first one comes and the second takes a moment. Your orgasm takes you by surprise, his fingers work you through the whole thing as your deep convulsions let you feel him fully.
He cries out behind you, his deep moans fuel your release further on. You chant his name and he falls over the edge spilling inside you. He slows his movements, thrusting his cum into you. He twitches inside of you repeatedly, giving you months of pent-up lust.
He slows to a stopping point while kissing your marked skin. He holds you for a while until his breathing stabilizes itself.
He lowers your leg and slides out from behind you, climbing over your spent body and disappearing for a moment. He returns with a wet rag, cleaning you up before himself. He rounds up the soiled rag in the discarded blanket that somehow got into the mess of fluids.
He slides your shorts over your legs letting his fingers run along your heated skin before lifting your limp body off the couch and carrying you into his bedroom.
”You’re sleepin’ here for the rest of the night.”
You barely acknowledge the change in location already falling asleep in his arms.
He places you on his soft bed and takes his place next to you.
The warm covers and his arms are the last thing you feel before falling into a deep sleep.
He tangles his body with yours giving you one last kiss.
You had no idea, but from that moment on you were his. Only his.
Locked Out On Valentine's (Ending: You took the tea)
Pairing: Simon "Ghost" Riley x Fem!Reader
C/W: Smut, unprotected P in V, sexist-type humor, size kink
Word Count: 3k
Previous part
“You want some tea, love?”
***
You’re now sitting at the small round dinner table watching as he tilts the kettle into the mugs. He walks the mugs over to the table and sits across from you.
“Didn’t have anyone to stay with, did you?” He asks before taking a sip.
“I sure didn’t. Everyone is still avoiding me like the plague.” You stare down at the mug.
“It’ll end soon.” He wipes his bottom lip with his thumb. The action catches your attention and he doesn’t miss the sparkle in your eyes. For a stone-cold man, he sure was catching himself smirking a lot tonight.
“When I showed up to my first unit I got the same, and the unit after that.” The two of you drink simultaneously.
“What? They ignored you?”
“No,” He chuckles softly. “My first unit, they held me down and branded me with a shite-looking coat of arms made from a wire clothes hanger.”
You gasp, covering your mouth with your hand.
“What?! Where?!”
“My bum.”
You snort, “I’m sorry, that’s not funny.” You cover your face with your hands. His shoulders rise and fall with soft laughter.
“It is a little.”
“Did they ever get in trouble? Reprimanded?”
“Never told anyone, ran into them at my next unit and pummeled them into the ground.”
“Bravo!” You celebrate with your hands in the air. “I’m glad to hear that.”
“Then I was disciplined for the beatin’ they got but it was worth it.”
“I agree, they had it coming.”
You take another gulp of your tea enjoying the spread of warmth inside of you.
“You’re quite fond of trouble.” He states flatly. You still, squinting at him in suspicion.
“What makes you say that?”
“Your files,” He raises his eyebrows at you. “Lengthy history of discipline, being reprimanded.”
You hum in response. “Is that the word on the street?”
He grins, his hand coming up to stroke his stubble before he sits back with his arms crossed looking at you. You roll your eyes, “Yeah, I’ve gotten in trouble a couple of times in my career, what about it?”
“How long have you been in?”
“Five years.”
“You’re tellin’ me that you’ve been reprimanded nearly every single year you’ve been in?” He now leans on the table looking over at you with a dumbfounded look.
“Shit happens, I have no problem taking responsibility for it.”
“I didn’t take you for the type to cause trouble.”
“I’m not, I just don’t have the grace other people do. I do something stupid and get caught immediately.”
“You’re right about that. You’re a naughty one, for sure.” He says before downing the remaining liquid in his mug.
He smirks to himself letting his eyes roam over your shoulders.
"I heard that boyfriend of yours was a calvary bum." He pokes, changing the subject.
You "tsk" at him. Once everyone found out about your now ex-boyfriend they never let you live it down.
"What's his job got to do with anything?"
Simon shrugs, feigning ignorance, “Assumed a woman like you preferred men, that’s all.”
“Oh, hush!” You bite back a laugh refusing to meet his eyes.
“I bet he cried like a child at the thought of going to the field.”
“That’s enough out of you!” You reach over the table to cover his mouth. He fights you off taking your wrists in his hands. He stands and walks to your side of the table gently pulling up by the wrists. His massive frame takes most of your view, you can’t help but feel anxiety pool in your stomach having him tower over you.
“Poor bird, spendin’ her nights with half a man. Bet he didn’t have a clue what he was doin’.”
The warmth you felt from the tea was traveling up to your cheeks. He was so close you could smell the rich cologne in his skin. His hands were so rough but warm on your pulse.
Your eyes focus on his lips.
“Did he?” The gravel of his voice makes a shiver run through your spine. You gulp before responding.
”He was… enthusiastic.”
Simon laughs hoarsely, “Enthusiastic?” He enunciates with a shit-eating grin.
”Why is my sex life a topic of conversation to my Lt.?” You suddenly get some courage.
”You think I haven’t noticed you droolin’ over me, love. Peakin’ at me from afar. Now you show up to my flat with your tits fallin’ out of your top, your bare ass out, and a broken heart from some lad not worth the air he breathes.” He drops his head forcing you to meet his eyes. “Quite the coincidence, innit?”
”I think it’s more of a happy coincid-“ He breaks your sentence off catching your lips with his. Your brain pushes you out of your frozen state and the two of you begin moving in unison. He slowly releases your wrists and moves his hands to your waist. Your hands run down his chest.
He deepens the kiss, forcing his tongue past your lips. You moan softly as his tongue plays with yours. He pulls you against him, one hand over yours on his chest the other at the small of your back. You feel lightheaded, not in a bad way, quite the opposite. You’d fantasized about your Lt. plenty of times, his touch, the scars he hid beneath his army green top, the way his lips felt - come to find out they were soft, unlike the rest of him. His hands keep setting you ablaze when they touch your skin, the callouses nearly make your eyes roll back.
He growls into the kiss, tearing himself away from you. His arms wrap around the back of your thighs and you grab onto his shoulders. He lifts and places you on the table, forcing himself between your legs. He bites at your neck, pulling you into him. You grip the table feeling as if you could slide off at any second.
He eats up every single gasp he gets out of you. His teeth graze your collar bone and he sucks on the sensitive skin. Your nails run over his scalp down to the back of his neck drawing a groan from him.
He stops for a moment to let you catch your breath.
”You want this, love?” He leans his forehead against yours looking into your eyes.
“God, yes!” You exasperate.
He chuckles, still looking into your eyes.
”Hold on.”
”What do you-“
You squeal as he lifts you off the table and rushes to wrap your arms around his neck. You rest your head on his neck relishing in the feeling of his body against yours. Warmth radiated off of him like a furnace, the feel of his skin so addictive.
He carries you to the couch placing his knee on the cushions before gently placing you on your back. He follows you down and your hands run down his bare back.
He supports himself with one arm, the other trails down to your aching core, cupping the mound. He lets out a ragged breath once he feels the heat burning through you. He moves to pull your shorts off, dragging them up your legs and tossing them off to the side.
”Fuckin’ hell,” He groans at the sight of your bare pussy. “Such a bad girl walking around without knickers.”
He gives you one last hypnotizing kiss before brushing his lips in between your breasts. He kisses each one and carries on down your stomach and lands right above your clit.
You panic inside, you prop yourself up on your elbows, “Lt.”
”Fuck’s sake, love. As much as I love hearin’ you call me that, say my name, will you?” He laughs light-heartedly. You smile behind your hand trying not to break out in giggles.
“What is it?” His eyebrows pull together.
”You don’t have to do that if you don’t want.”
”Eat you out?” He looks at you confused.
You nod slowly, embarrassed at the question.
He “Tsks” at you lowering himself once again while muttering something along the lines of, “Calvary muppet took the fun out of pussy, didn’t he?”
”I’m serious! You don’t have to!” You spit out frantically.
“Shut up, doll.”
He licks a stripe up your cunt and moans softly to himself. Your lips part in disbelief. He slowly laps at your clit and you lower yourself onto your back. He decides not to work you too fast yet, scared you’d pass out after being neglected by that dumb bloke for so long.
You whine softly, legs already shaking. He wraps his arms around your thighs and presses them against his head.
He gently sucks on your clit and your hand shoots down to his head. The feeling of you tugging one his short locs encourages him to speed up. His lips wrap around your clit and toys with it as he pleases. The pace causes you to clamp your thighs around his head on your own.
Moans pour from your lips as your back arches. His hands stroke your thighs as you restrain yourself from pushing his head down further.
”Simon! Oh god!” Your mouth hangs open. You look down at him and nearly orgasm seeing him between your legs. His eyes are blown out, his thumb caresses your skin.
He lets go of one thigh and his fingers tap at your entrance gathering your wetness. He pushes two of his fingers inside you and your head falls back. Your vision goes fuzzy and you clamp your eyes shut. His fingers pump into you hitting your g-spot each time.
Your hand flies to your mouth and you let out a high-pitched moan. You chant his name tightening around his fingers. He feels your walls clamp down and continues pumping letting you ride it out. Your hips twitch, your thighs trap him where he is.
He waits until you go limp to pull away, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.
”Fuck, you made a mess.” He groans. He climbs above you and peppers your face with kisses. “Was that alright, love?”
You open your eyes to meet his, all you can do is nod unable to trust yourself to talk. He smirks at you, proud of himself for leaving you in such a state.
”You think you can take me, love, or do you need some time?”
”Want you so bad,” You whine out.
He lowers his head for a chaste kiss and pulls himself up onto his feet. He drops his sweats revealing the thick muscle of his thighs. His cock slaps his thigh as he throws his sweats onto the floor, the weight of it keeping it down. Your eyes meet his member and a wave of nervousness comes over you. His length was impressive but the thickness was your biggest concern.
“Hey! You weren’t wearing underwear either, hypocrite!”
He rolls his eyes at you with a smile. A sight so beautiful you can’t help but smile back.
He takes his earlier position above you and aligns himself with your entrance. He looks up at you and you feel his tip poking into you already.
”Ready, doll?”
You nod at him.
”Say it.” He whispers.
”I-I’m ready.”
”Alright then.” He nudges your forehead with his before the two of you look down to watch the sinful show of him slowly sliding into you. You gasp, hands going to his back. He moves at a snail’s pace letting you adjust as he goes. He cradles your head, forehead against yours trying to keep his breathing steady.
”Ah, tight little thing.” He rasps out.
Your mouth hangs open, your nails digging into his skin, legs hugging his waist once he fills you to the hilt. He waits a moment before slowly sliding out halfway and bringing himself back to the same depth. Your whines draw out. His tip hits the deepest parts of you so well that you nearly begin drooling.
He examines your face for any sign of discomfort before nudging your neck with his nose. He begins with a moderate pace as he kisses along your jaw. You wrap your arms around him, fingers running over the buzzed hair at the back of his head.
The stretch from his cock stings slightly, the overwhelming pleasure sending tingles through your bones making it hard to notice. He continues rocking his hips into yours letting you enjoy the feel of him without anything too overwhelming. You mewl into his ear as he stretches you over and over.
”Fuck, so good,” You whine.
His hand comes down to grip your breast, his thumb playing with your nipple, circling it gently. He slides his legs up kneeling with you in between his thighs. He stops, letting you catch your breath and he sucks your nipple into his mouth. He suckles the nub, playing with it with his warm tongue. He thumbs your clit as he treats the nub like a candy. He grabs you by the waist and pulls you down onto his cock, dragging you down the cushions fucking you onto him for a while.
He angles his hips to hit all the right places, your cunt throbs around him when he hits your g-spot head on causing you to gasp.
”Oh fuck! Right there!” Your hands cling onto his forearms for dear life as he goes on to hit the spot repeatedly until it nearly hurts. His pubic bone rubs against your clit with every thrust. He picks up his pace, throttling that poor little sensitive spot. Your back arches painfully. He takes advantage of it and throws his hand under your waist keeping you in the position swinging you down to meet his thrusts.
He stuffs you with his cock relentlessly. You become a mess beneath him struggling to get words out, just high-pitched moans filling the room.
”God! Oh god!”
“He’s not here, love. Be a good girl and cum on my cock.” He orders.
The feeling grows inside you pulling the air from your lungs. He nips the skin below your breasts and licks a stripe between them to your neck. Your pussy flutters around him before you fall deep into euphoria, his name pours from you. Your ears ring and eyes wire themselves shut as you clamp down around him. Tears pour from your eyes involuntarily.
The sequence of flutters pulls him back into you making it too difficult to pull out too far. He buries his head in your chest as he’s pulled over the edge. He moans into your skin as your body sucks him back in, milking him so hard he blinks trying to rid himself of the fog. He begins spilling into you, his white hot streams shooting out at high velocity. He paints your walls so thoroughly that you feel his cock twitching with every spasm.
His cum spills out of you not having any more room to fill. You gush around him and he quietly gasps.
The two of you stay like this for what could’ve been an eternity. The post-orgasmic haze engulfs the both of you. He keeps himself inside and lowers himself onto his side, dragging you with him, throwing your leg over his hip. He pulls you into his sweaty heaving chest and kisses your forehead.
He feels a wetness on his thumb and pulls back, wiping away your tears.
”What’s happened, Y/n?” He asks, concerned. “Did I hurt you?” He moves to pull himself out of you and you grab him, bringing him to a stop. “You’re crying, love.”
”That was amazing.” You mumble, eyes struggling to open.
”You cryin’ because it was good?” He laughs, a big goofy smile plasters itself on his face. You force your eyes open to peek at him.
“You smile so pretty.”
He pulls you back to his chest, arms wrapped tightly around you.
”Thank you, love.” You could still hear the smile in his voice. “Let’s get you cleaned up and put to bed, yeah?”
”Too sleepy.” You complain.
”It’s alright, I’ll take care of you.” Against your protests, he lifts himself slowly and positions himself to pull out of you. He gives you a single nudge with his cock still sheathed and you nearly purr.
He pulls out slowly.
”Jesus, I’m gonna need a new couch.” He mutters. His cum spills from you, his eyes glued to your core watching it slowly pour out. His cock twitches and he has to look away. There was no way you were in shape for another round. Thankfully the memory was burned into his mind - the best thing he’d ever seen, next to you of course.
He lets you know he’ll be back and you hear water rushing down the hall. He returns moments later and slides his hands under you.
”Bath time,” He says in a sing-song-y voice. You giggle, lacing your fingers behind his neck. He lifts you in his arms and looks into your eyes. “You were wonderful.” He pecks your lips and carries you off to his bathroom placing you in the bathtub before sliding in behind you.
”I don’t have a hair tie but I’ll try with some string,” He says mostly to himself. The warm water only reaches your belly button, once he slides behind you it rises a few inches. He wraps your hair into a funny-looking bun and ties it with the piece of string he found.
” Ta-da.”
“Thank you, Simon.” You say sweetly leaning back against him. He holds you against him and you feel something poke into your back.
”Sorry, love. It’ll go down, I don’t expect you to stay awake long enough for another one.”
You moan in response and sigh letting the water nearly lull you to sleep.
“Wait,” you breathe out. “Does me saying your name turn you on?”
He doesn’t respond. You try to look up at him but he tightens his hold not wanting you to see the red spawning over his face.
”Siiiiimon”
”Oh, hush.” He imitates your voice.
”Hey!”
He grabs his loofa and begins lathering you in bubbles.
”C’mon, I wanna get you in bed before you fall asleep.”
He cleans every bit of you, focusing on your breasts because no matter how much he denied it at that moment, he was still a dog. He hands you a bath bomb that he saved in case he ever had a special someone stay over and let you watch it fizz up as he cleans himself.
He dries you off and plops you down on his massive bed wearing his t-shirt. By the time he throws on his boxers you’re fast asleep under the covers, engulfed in his scent.
He slides next to you pulling you into his arms. He plants a kiss on the top of your head and whispers into your hair, “You’re mine now, doll. All mine.”
Summary: You get locked out on Valentine's Day and have to sleep over at a certain Lt.'s flat.
C/W: Reader is dressed a little inappropriately
A/N: Never tried something like this before so I hope it buffs out. Also, super late Valentine's fic whoops
Word Count: 1k
“What do you mean he’s not available?!” You stand with your forehead against your door.
“Barrack’s manager is out on leave, he’ll be back tomorrow. Recommend you stay with a friend for now.”
“Wait! Where’s the emergency ma-” *click*
What the fuck!
You huff, banging your head against the outside of your door. Today was one of the worst days of your life. You planned a date with your boyfriend of one year only to be dumped right before you were supposed to meet up. And after bawling your eyes out decide to run out to the fountain to get back the hydration you lost.
The redness around your eyes finally went away but they were so puffy you couldn’t even see your keychain still hanging on the wall.
You’re now stuck in the middle of the hall on Valentine’s Day in a short tank top and your bedtime booty shorts hoping a soul doesn’t appear and see you with all your goods hanging out.
The barracks manager - or whoever that was - told you to find a friend. You didn’t have any here. You’d been in the unit for all of five months and they weren’t all that accepting of new people. They oozed the “prove yourself worthy of our clan” mentality. You roll your eyes just at the thought.
Ughhh. I really don’t want to.
You whine internally as you pull up Cpt. Price’s contact on your phone hoping you’re not interrupting anything.
“Sergeant y/n, what’s the purpose of your call?” He sounds annoyed. You hear a feminine voice in the background and him softly shooshing it.
“Sir! I’ve been locked out of my room and the primary barracks manager won’t be in till tomorrow. I don’t have anywhere to stay.”
“That’s unfortunate, isn’t it?” His voice strains lightly. He’s quiet for a moment and you’re unsure if you’re supposed to say something or…
“I’ll see what I can do. I’ll message you soon.”
You sigh in relief. Maybe he’d contact the emergency manager and they’ll come unlock your door.
You stand with your arms crossed, back against the cold wall for what feels like forever until your phone finally buzzes.
Cpt. Price: Bld 920 Room 1208. Stay there tonight.
You’re about to flood him with questions, like: Where’s the key? Is there someone already there? Who’s room is this? But before you’re done typing he sends one last message.
Cpt. Price: I’m busy tonight with work so no need to thank me. Or call me again.
Work…? Yeah right!
The room was at least in the same building as you. Beats trekking in the snow in slippers and the ungodly attire you have on at the moment.
You make your way up the stairs cursing the base for not putting an elevator in your building. You peer at each door while wandering further down the hall.
1206… 1207… 1208!
You take a deep breath before knocking quietly.
God, I hope it’s at least a woman.
A few seconds go by before the door swings open. You stand wide-eyed. If you had less control your jaw would be on the floor too.
You stare back at your Lt. in all his glory. He stares back at you in nothing but low-hanging sweatpants. His blond hair is disheveled, the color matching the patch of hair on his bare sculpted chest. You’d seen him maskless before but from afar. He’s someone many avoided, his demeanor wasn’t exactly inviting and his wrath, from the rumors, was even worse.
The light flooding through the door frame illuminates his face enough to show the fine features up close. The scars running through his lips and cheeks only add to the stirring inside you that’s leaving you speechless.
As you try to stop yourself from ogling him right here and now he notices your eyes popping out of your skull and softly blows air out of his nose.
Is he laughing at me?
He decides to finally break the staring contest.
“What d’you want, pet?”
You stutter a bit before getting the words out,
“I got locked out, the captain told me to come here. He didn’t tell me it was your place.”
It was his turn to let his eyes wander. His eyes rake over your tank top, your arm over your chest to conceal the fact you’re braless, your exposed stomach and shorts that barely did their job as clothes. You stand there waving your water bottle around as you speak, completely unaware of the look on his face.
A smirk pulls at one of his lips as he listens to you ramble about the barracks managers not doing their jobs. Your voice gradually gets higher the angrier you get.
“What the hell are you wearin’?” He interrupts.
“Why are you answering the door half-naked?” You shoot back.
He sneers, “You show up at my door wantin’ a place to stay and you have an attitude?” He pulls his phone from his pocket seeing a barely coherent message from Price.
“Fine. No point in arguin’, Price is probably with the missus, doesn’t want to be bothered.” He steps to the side allowing you to come in. You cautiously accept and step into the space.
His place was neat, and well-kept, more like an apartment rather than the prison they kept you in. You turn back to look at him and notice the tattoos covering the skin of his arm. He pretends not to notice you checking him out as he walks to the hallway closet and pulls out a pillow and blanket.
He hands them to you, “Is that enough or d’you need a bedtime story too?”
“Little Red Riding Hood’s my favorite, please.” You snark, as you drop the pillow and lean over to throw the blanket over the cushions. You swear you hear his breath catch in his throat but get quickly covered up by him clearing his throat.
“So… What are you up to on Valentine’s Day?” You prod hoping to learn something about the most feared individual of the unit.
“Just another day, means nothin’.” He leans against the wall behind him. You sit with your legs crossed on the almost comically large couch, probably custom-made for his giant ass. You lean on your hand and look up at him.
“Is that so?”
“What happened to that muppet you’re always moanin’ bout? Should be with him.” He tilts his head to the side.
“Nah, he’s no good. Decided he liked by friend better.” You laugh sadly. “Can’t seem to keep them this time of year. I’m too cool for it.” You try to joke but end up cringing on the inside. His chest rises with a soft chuckle.
“That right?”
“You know it.” You wink at him.
The two of you go quiet for a moment.
He decides to break the silence.
”You want some tea, love?
*** Decision Time ***
Why not? I'm already here and he's being nice. Sure, I'll have some tea.
Or...
I don't wanna be a bother. He's already having to let me stay over. I'm gonna pass on tea.
Kiera is cleared to return home, Simon returning with her.
Eleven Days Later
Kiera was the last to be released from the hospital while Price, Gaz and Soap enjoyed much-needed rest as well as tending to their wounds in the confines and comfort of the local hotel. Simon wheeled her to the lobby in a wheelchair after he had taken his belongings as well as hers to Laswell's car. She had been cleared to go home.
After being wheeled out of the lobby, she toyed with the fleece blanket Simon had bought her from the local store that would keep her warm from the Chicago air. During her recovery, it was discovered that she had contracted a mild case of pneumonia due to breathing in the cold air during the traumatic event. Due to this, she had been directed to receive oxygen during her flight home.
Price and the rest of his team were cleared to go home as well, waiting to deploy home after receiving good news of Kiera's departure. Simon wheeled her to the passenger seat of the car, it being the most comfortable seat in the car as Laswell would be driving them to the airport. She clung to his shoulder as he eased her down into the seat, setting the oxygen tank between her knees as it continued to distribute oxygen into her nose. He reached over her, securing her to the seat, "Is that comfortable?" He whispered to her.
She nodded, "As much as I'll ever be."
"Good."
He shut the door, leaving her inside for warmth as he turned to face Price who held a genuine grin on his bearded face. Simon furrowed his brows as he looked down at his hand, a slip of paper between his fingers.
It was then that Simon realized that Price handed him a plane ticket to Cody, Wyoming. "Here, son."
Simon shook his head, knowing he was going to go with her anyway, but the fact that Price had taken the time out of his healing process to buy a plane ticket for him was enough to show that the Captain had compassion for the Lieutenant. "You didn't have to, Ca-"
"I wanted to, Simon," He assured him, patting his shoulder.
Simon nodded, letting the Captain pull him in for a comforting side hug. "Let's get you on your way home."
Price knew - hell, Soap did as well as Laswell. They all knew as it was rather obvious that Simon was in love. Neither one saw it coming, never seeing him with a woman before, but it was bittersweet to see how compassionate he let himself get when it came to caring for her.
From comrades to lovers, Soap sighed to himself as he was truly happy for him.
*
The flight home was exhausting - having a layover in Missouri was enough to drive both her and Simon into a raging fit of a fight for sleep, but Simon held through, wheeling her through the terminal as both duffel bags were secure to his torso, ensuring her comfort before his own. "You're going to be mad, love." He said to her, watching her exhausted eyes look at him. He knew she was tired but was in dire need of a sarcastic comment to shoot back at him. He could feel it.
Hell, he wanted to poke at her, too - loving her one-liners and sarcastic comments that left a genuine rumble in his chest.
"Why?" She asked.
"Your keys aren't in your bag." He said, referring to her truck keys.
He did his best to hide the smirk toying on his lips as he watched her brow arch and bottom lip pucker slightly, "Guess you've got a long push ahead, huh?"
"I guess so," He replied, shrugging his shoulders. "Better hold that blanket close to you."
"Mhm, I know you're screwin' with me. I'm not easy to fool." She retorted, watching how he failed horribly in keeping his smile at bay.
"We'll see about that." He replied, his voice sounding with serious tone. She began to wonder if he truly was being serious or dragging it out for as long as he could.
She huffed, rolling her eyes playfully as he chuckled to himself, reaching to his right to grasp her left hand as he had wheeled her to the innermost part of the lobby, sitting between her and the entrance. She watched as he toyed with her fingers like he always did, the familiar warmth of the pad of his thumb rubbing the top of her ring finger.
As time went on, he continued to toy with her fingers, looking down at the cracks, cuts, and bruises on her hand from both the explosion and the damage Graves had done. He wondered how a hand as small as hers could do as much damage as he had seen during their time on the battlefield, but she wondered the same about him - how his hands could kill a man with one grasp, yet grasp her skin as if she were made of glass. "Do you want to take your medicine now or when you get on the plane?" He asked her.
"Probably when we land, honestly. It's been making me feel like shit and I don't want to throw up everywhere."
"It's because you've barely eaten, sweetheart." Simon reminded.
"I'm just... not hungry." She frowned.
"We'll fix that."
*
Cody, Wyoming
The western air was brutal and cold, Simon rushed as fast as he could to get her to the parking garage where her vehicle that she had left before they took the flight back to the battlefield. Fumbling through his pocket from his pre-landing plan, he looked at the fob for the 'unlock' button, watching the running lights of the Ram truck light up in a glow as he stopped at the passenger side door, opening it for her and carefully hoisting her in. He secured the oxygen tank between her knees and ensured she was buckled. "Can you pull that lever, babe?" She grumbled as it was clear she was getting restless, pointing down to the adjustment lever that reclined her seat back.
Simon stopped briefly at the sound of the pet name she had called him before doing her request, pulling the lever up as he used his other arm to let her cling to him as her back was sore from the grafts. "Thank you." She mumbled, bringing the blanket closer to her chest.
"Say that again." He asked, referring to the pet name.
"Thank you?..." She replied, a smirk toying at her lips, knowing what he was referring to.
But it was her turn to poke at him.
"No, what you said before."
"Oh!" She nodded. "Can you pull that lever?" She giggled while a laugh prodded in her throat at his reaction. Okay, Kiera, stop teasing him, he looks offended, she thought. "Babe."
She watched him grin, unaware that the name coming from her throat sounded as sweet as honey - the sound of her voice leaving him to want it more. He leaned over her, pressing a kiss to her caste lips, not giving an absolute fuck that her lips were dry in moisture and her throat dry. He reminded himself that she was real and only for him, unbeknownst to her that the pet name gave him a rush of adrenaline having never been called that before.
And he liked it.
He shut the door before folding the wheelchair and putting it in the backseat, the sharp wind cutting through the parking garage and rustling his jacket. "Bloody fucking hell," He grumbled, his complaint being heard from inside the cab as well as he slung himself into the driver's seat, his knees colliding with the dashboard and his thighs pressed against the bottom of the steering wheel. "Christ, woman, short stack." He teased.
"How else do you expect me to drive this thing?" She scoffed. "By standing on the fucking seat?"
"Might as well!" He poked back, looking at the fob as he wondered how the fuck to start the diesel, but he wasn't about to ask her. "Surprised this thing isn't beat to rubble - not being able to see over the steering wheel."
"At least I can start it." She poked, taking note of his hesitation.
"Love, I can drive a tank if I wanted to-"
"-But not a truck." She giggled.
He sighed, shaking his head, "Should've invited Soap along to join in on the harassment."
"Hey, you started it, babe," She smirked. "Besides, it would be fun if he was along."
"Oh, I'm sure."
She scoffed playfully, pointing to the ignition, "It ain't no different than a regular car, just put the key in and turn it once to let the glow plugs warm up before you start it." She explained.
He did just that, waiting for her instruction. "Now, the light went off, go ahead and start it."
The diesel fought for a few moments, Simon being paranoid that he broke it, but kept listening to her as he trusted her judgment...and the fact that it was her vehicle. It rumbled beneath him, his excitement sitting in his stomach as he tried to contain himself. He was just like a kid in a candy store. Rev it...
He couldn't help it, putting his foot on the throttle to just hear the mighty whistle, once being enough as he didn't want to overstay his permission on driving her truck, knowing she'd take over in a heartbeat regardless of her status. "That out of your system now?" She chuckled.
He sighed, "Yeah."
"Can't help it, can you? I don't blame you."
He breathed a laugh, putting the truck in reverse and cautiously - slowly, even - made his way out of the parking garage that lead onto the main road, stopping at the stop sign and mentally coaching himself and reminding himself on how to drive when not escaping from enemies. "This isn't England, right lane is the right side." She poked.
"How stupid do you think I am?" He replied.
"You want me to be honest?" She arched a brow, poking at him.
He huffed, "Give me that," He said, reaching over the console for her hand. Carefully, of course. "You have to remind me how to get home, love."
"You'll be on this road for a hot minute." She replied, embracing the warmth of his hand wrapped around her cold fingers, looking over and watching him bring her hand to his lips, keeping them there and rubbing the knuckles closest to the pads of his fingers as well as against his chin, leaning his elbow on the console as he drove. He couldn't get enough of it.
"Just tell me when to turn."
"I might."
He glared at her playfully, "You need to get rest. We don't need to be roaming around."
"What I need, is my va-"
"I'll throw it out the window." He arched his brow at her.
She scoffed.
"I'm serious, that's the last fuckin' thing you need."
"I've got a stash."
"Oh, I'll find it."
She giggled, thoroughly enjoying that she was still fortunate to be going home, especially with him.
"Have you checked your phone?"
"No, can you reach in the console and get it for me?"
He nodded, letting go of her hand briefly to open the center console, fumbling around inside through the AQHA membership card as well as spare change along with pens...and a syringe?
"It's for cattle, Simon. I'm not shooting up." She giggled, taking notice of his discovery.
"I was about to say," He chuckled, handing her the iPhone before reaching down to hand her the end of the charger that came from the center console as well. "Don't strain yourself, love."
"I'm not." She replied, turning on the phone and seeing the usual blast of notifications as she typed her address into the GPS, knowing that Simon would miss the directions as she was sure she'd fall asleep eventually during the drive. She scrolled through her phone to distract her from the aching pain in her back and face, opening her music app to kill the silence that would fall between them, randomly shuffling to Sturgill Simpson's Life Ain't Fair as she deemed it as "fitting."
"You have a song for everything, huh?"
"I sure do." She snickered, setting her phone aside before returning her hand to the empty space between his fingers, watching him curl his fingers around hers before the back of her hand returned to being pressed against his chin.
Not only does Simon love the words that come out of your mouth, he loves what you can do with it.
“Bloody fucking hell. That mouth is perfect.”
Tags: Smut/Blowjob/Riding/Marking Each Other/Spanking
Possible TW’s: Brief use of morbid and cruel jokes between Simon and Soap.
You and Simon had been sneaking around to be with each other during the downtime of your deployment. Most cases of sex having to be rushed and quiet as you both were on strict time schedules.
“You look lonely. I can fix that.” You whispered in a teasing tone as your hands swiped over his shoulders.
“Now’s your chance to prove it.” He growled, his tone muffled by the balaclava.
His gaze was sharp and primal. He wanted to tear you apart for teasing him during the convoy on the way to a new base. You would purposely graze your fingers over the inside of his thigh while he would sneak a grasp at your ass. There was no stopping the constant foreplay between you two.
Even when you took your shower, you purposely walked by the open door of his room clutching your shirt over your breasts instead of putting it on, knowing he would look your way and get jealous of the thought of possibly someone else seeing you.
He had just gotten out of the shower and changed into a clean uniform before going out on guard duty for the night.
Perfect.
Waiting until after midnight, you snuck out of the barracks and to where he was on duty. It was a small hunting-blind-type shelter, which was hard to see in the daylight, let alone the dark. Even though you knew where it was, it was still hard for you to see.
Once finding the entry, you walked in to see him sitting on point with his back turned to you as he acknowledged your presence. You both knew what was going to happen tonight. The sexual tension between the pair of you was enough for your peers to notice.
You felt his breathing shudder as you touched his shoulder. You smelled the muffled scent of his deodorant (he wears Axe chocolate - you can’t change my mind) as you leant over his shoulder, you chuckled as he had been bickering back and forth with Soap who was also on guard duty on the opposite end of the base. “Oy, two goldfish were in a tank. One turns to the other and says: do you know how to drive this thing? Little Army humor.”
“You need some company?” You asked him in a whisper.
“I’ll never deny your company, sweetheart.”
You had other thoughts on your mind, the sexual tension between the two of you rising since you entered the blind.
He sat with his legs apart, comfortable.
“What kind of company would you want?” You asked in a teasing tone.
“I’m fine with whatever you offer.”
You bit your bottom lip before standing in front of him, watching his dominant gaze look over your features. He didn’t eye your body like you expected - he never did. Not that you weren’t attractive to him, you were, but he favored looking into your eyes more. He could tell your exact emotions through your eyes - something that he knew not many men looked at when looking at their partner. “You look lonely. I can fix that.”
“Now’s your chance to prove it.” He growled, his voice muffled by his balaclava.
Seeing the spark of arousal in your eyes, he watched you straddle his lap, setting his rifle aside to lean up against the wall as his hands went straight to your waist. He couldn’t help the blood that rushed to his groin. You couldn’t help but grind into him as your hands rushed to the bottom of his balaclava. You hesitated for a moment, expecting him to stop you, but he didn’t. You rolled his balaclava to where it exposed his lips, capturing them with your own, your nostrils filling with the smell of his aftershave.
His hands gripped your hips tighter, pulling you closer to him, irritated because of the tactical vest strapped to his chest. You felt his erection pressing into your thigh, giggling into his mouth before moving to your knees between his thighs and moving your hands to where they rested at his belt. “Fucking hell.” You heard him grumble.
You hummed, removing his length from the confines of his boxers. He was staring down at you, breathing heavily as you took him into his mouth. You took him into your hot mouth inch by inch until you physically couldn’t take him completely. You splayed your tongue along the bottom of his shaft before sucking a bit harder once at the tip of his aching length, a satisfying pop! leaving your lips. You held eye contact with him as you did so before going back down on him again.
“Bloody fucking hell,” He groaned. “That mouth is perfect.”
His hands found their way to your hair, messing up your bun to his own pleasure. He couldn’t help but buck up into your mouth, the heat and moisture driving him crazy. You had been giving him the perfect mixture of sloppy and sensual work with your mouth, feeling the familiar heat between your legs pulsing with excitement and clenching over nothing.
You then stood to your feet, his gaze fixating to your stomach as you loosened your belt. The sexual tension between you two was almost too much as the both of you seemed to want to rush to lovemaking. “If you don’t hurry, I’ll cut them off of you.” He groaned playfully. You smirked, removing your boots before the pants followed, purposely keeping your underwear on to tease him.
You straddled him, feeling the tip of his cock pressing against your covered core. He breathed heavily with irritation as he had another problem keeping him from penetrating you. With no hesitation, he eased you back on his lap, you watched as he cut the underwear from your hips. “I told you - don’t tease me.” He graveled as he tossed the underwear to the side before easing you back to where you were lined up with him.
His hands held your hips as he helped guide you onto his length, not once forcing you on him as you slowly took his length. You moaned, gripping his shoulders as you couldn’t help but clamp around him. A guttural hiss came from his lips as he looked to where you both were joined. He was pleased with how you stretched to accommodate his size.
You rolled your hips on him, begging for friction against your clit as the way he was sitting was the perfect position to rub your pelvis on his, although the gear he had around his waist was making it harder for you, but you weren't giving up on achieving your orgasm. He felt too good to care about taking his gear off. "Not yet," He panted, holding your hips close to his, keeping you from continuing your rhythmic pace. "Don't go too fast. I want to savor you."
You groaned at his words, rewarding him with another kiss.
He ignored Soap's eager tone to tell another joke through his comm, knowing he would probably cuss him out if he were to reply right now. You let him control your pace as he enjoyed the warm feel of you enveloped around him. Fucking hell.
A thin layer of sweat beaded on your forehead as you were begging to orgasm at this point, but he felt like he was just getting started. His orgasm was on the horizon, but he loved when he reached his orgasm at the same time you did.
"Come for me, baby." You whispered into his ear, moaning at the sudden grasp of your buttocks by his strong hands.
He groaned, moving your hips faster as the sudden friction of his pants against your clit had your orgasm coming at a rapid pace. He felt you clench around him before you could even hum the beautiful song of your sweet release before he released his spend the same time you did, slowing your hips down to savor every last drop.
You slumped on him, the pair of you panting as you peppered kisses along his neck. You could still feel him pulsating inside of you, but you didn't care to even move. "I'm going to volunteer to go on guard duty more often." He sighed.
"And let me guess, I'm volun-told?" You bit your lip with excitement.
When it comes to his body, Simon is all ears for anything to do for you. However, he only has one boundary that he’s hesitant to compromise with now.
“Not here. Anywhere else is yours.”
🇬🇧 Photo Credit: vhenan_virabelasan on Instagram! The work is amazing!🇬🇧
Tags: Smut/Mild Angst/Domestic Simon/Dominant Simon/Sensual Sex/Romantic Sex
He was home - finally home from what was promised to be his last tour. To say he was exhausted was an understatement. For the first few days, he did nothing but practically lay around and do nothing. His body physically told him no.
After the passing few weeks, you noticed that Simon became a bit more relaxed with being home. He still shut himself off on some days, but one thing was always the same: how he treated you. From driving you to work, to helping you in the kitchen, and pleasing you in the bedroom - he never changed that side of him.
Although you were both ecstatic to be home to be together, when Simon would shut down, he shut down completely. He still didn’t know how to comprehend all of the negative thoughts he had on himself as well as fighting his own battles within his own head. He truly didn’t want to lash out at you, but sometimes you made it hard for him not to as he couldn’t look at that gleam of worry in your eyes when you’d ask him what was wrong. He always had anger issues, but never once would he raise his voice at you. To avoid this, he’d simply isolate himself to cool off. But as said, you made it hard for him to not isolate himself. It wasn’t healthy, but he didn’t care. Being completely alone and fighting was the only thing he was used to.
You two had gotten into a mild argument earlier that day, causing him to shut down after you had left for work. He didn’t see that you were in tears on your way to your job, nor did he care at that moment. He was too heated to care about anything else. He kept himself at bay, shutting himself off after hearing the crack of pain in your voice as all you did was ask him to talk to you about it. You just didn’t understand and that was okay, so he would simply say “Okay.” before isolating himself for the rest of the day.
He ignored your worried texts, checking in on him every couple of hours. It broke your heart to watch him read your messages and not reply. He knew this, too, but he truly didn’t want to say anything to hurt your feelings even more than he already did.
*
“What’s wrong, Simon?” You asked with a saddened gleam in your eye after noticing he had begun to work himself into his own darkness again.
“Nothing.” He shook his head, avoiding eye contact with you.
You stepped closer to him, attempting to reach out and pull back the hood of his jacket as he was preparing a pre-workout drink. He liked to go out and run before going to the gym. He avoided your touch, keeping his eyes towards the task at hand. You grew slightly annoyed, but chose not to say anything about it. “You know you can talk to me about it,” You said softly, putting your hand on his left shoulder with light pressure, attempting to have him look at you. He could hide his emotions all he wanted, but his eyes always told you what you needed to know. You knew when he was angry, upset, happy, and aroused. You were the only person who knew him like the back of your own hand. “I don’t want you to get lost in yourself, baby.”
“I’m not.” He replied lowly.
You frowned, desperately wanting to wrap your arms around him and hold him in a comforting embrace that he always loved. Craved, even, but not today. He was in no mood to feel any type of soft emotion when he felt he deserved none of it. He felt you step closer to him, placing your palm under his collarbone of his left shoulder. He retracted quickly, grabbing your wrist and holding it towards your own. He looked away after hearing your innocent yelp, immediately regretting it. “Not here. Anywhere else is yours.”
You held back tears, desperately wanting him to talk to you about what was haunting him, but he didn’t want you to know. Any other time, he would always embrace you touching him, especially his chest. You huffed, “What’s wrong, Simon? Did something happen?”
“Something always happens to me when I leave,” He retorted. “It’s nothing new.”
“But this is!” You replied. “Why won’t you let me touch you? What happened to telling each other everything? You had no problem telling me what was wrong before and suddenly you can’t now?”
“You don’t understand.”
“You’re right, I don’t, but that’s why I’m asking you so that I can understand!”
“You don’t want to know.”
“What makes you think I don’t? This wouldn’t be the first time you’ve told me about what’s happened while you were gone,” You reminded him. “Nothing can surprise me anymore.”
“You want to bet on that?” He scoffed. “I’ll give you nightmares if I tell you.”
“That’s a risk I’m willing to take.”
“No.”
You frowned, dreading to have to leave due to the time of your shift. “Well, let me tell you one thing: when I agreed to be your wife, we promised each other it was through thick and thin. I knew what I was getting into and I don’t regret it.”
He didn’t reply, just kept his palms resting on the counter, looking down at the pattern of the marble below him. You had a point, but he was nowhere in the mood for a surrender. The silence was then broken by your next words, “Don’t bother taking me to work today. I’ll get there myself.” You said, knowing the statement would ping in his chest, although you were surprised that he didn’t try to stop you. So, you left. And man, did those words hurt. He felt like you didn’t need him anymore. He listened for the door the shut behind you, hearing the car start after the garage door opened. “I love you.” He mumbled to himself as if he were still talking to you, knowing he’d regret it if he didn’t say he loved you in some way in fear of never seeing you again. You knew he loved you, but without the open words between you two followed by a warm kiss, it hurt.
*
You returned home that night with a frown plastered on your face. Your mood hadn’t lightened at all throughout the day. You were afraid Simon wouldn’t be home when you returned, expecting him to be blowing off his pent up energy in the gym just a while longer, but when you heard the shower running, you began to wonder how long he had been in there.
The shower in your master bathroom was one of lavish taste. It was a complete walk-in shower with a waterfall-like head, giving a relaxing experience with each use as the walls were glass, perfect for one’s viewing pleasure if desired. You leant against the door as you looked at him, clear that he was swimming in his own mind. He faced the falling water, his breathing deep as he appeared to be enjoying the feeling of the water on his face. The dog tags shone within the steam, leaving your view of his full body limited.
You thought about returning to your evening duties, leaving him to dwell within his own mind, afraid to make the issue worse for him with your prying mind, but another part of you wanted to comfort him as it was now clear he was in a vulnerable state. He knew you were watching him, but he didn’t let you know it. He wanted to feel your comforting touch against his naked and hot skin, but he understood if you chose to retreat from him. Hell, he was used to that.
But he never expected it from his own wife, even though he wouldn’t blame you if you did.
Within a few moments, he felt your delicate hands on his back before your lips pressed between his shoulder blades. You didn’t care that he was still sticky with sweat, but took the opportunity to take care of him as it was clear he needed it.
He enjoyed your kisses to his back, soon to feel a sponge against his hot skin, tilting his head upward to the falling water. You then felt his head tilt down before reaching back behind him, bringing your left hand to his lips, pressing a kiss to your knuckles as he expected your wedding ring to be taken off, but it wasn’t. It was a symbol of your loyalty and love to him, something he was guaranteed to give you with unconditionality. He then kissed your palm, “I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay, Simon,” You hummed, wrapping your other arm around his torso. “You know I’m always here as long as you’d let me.”
He nodded, pressing another kiss to your palm before guiding that hand to the new and deep scar on his left shoulder - a scar that he’d expect you to see with distaste rather than curiosity. He held your hand against it with his own, breathing heavily. The scar was deep and red as it was still healing — a scar that was earned with bravery as an enemy force stabbed him with enough force to break through his vest, thankful that he was wearing it as it was sure to puncture completely through to be a possible fatality. It was a painful reminder that if he hadn’t have been careful, he would’ve been taken from you forever.
After feeling the new scar, you didn’t once question him as to how he got it, knowing it was painful to even think about let alone speak about. Instead, you pressed another kiss between his shoulder blades.
He then turned to you, keeping your left hand secured between his and his chest, pulling it away slowly to let you look at it, keeping his eyes closed. You didn't know why he seemed so scared for you to see it as you had seen every inch of his body anyway, so you assumed that something bad had to have happened for him to seem so reluctant to let you touch him after his last tour. You carefully traced the rim of the scar with the pad of your thumb, beads of water decorating your navy blue nails. It was a deep scar with jagged edges - one with a nasty reminder leaving the imagination to wonder how it ended up this way.
But that didn't make you love him any less. "It doesn't change you, Simon." You whispered, looking up to see his eyes closed as he seemed to be savoring your touch. Unbeknownst to you, he was reliving the battle in his head moments prior to the gesture that left a permanent mark on him. He didn't reply to your statement as he kept his focus on what was going on inside of his head. You then cupped his cheeks, watching his heavy lids open to dark orbs as his gaze was something primal. You ignored his threatening sight as you continued to rub his cheeks with your thumbs. "This doesn't change you, baby. You're still the Simon I know and love. Don't hide it from me." You cooed.
"I could've been KIA--"
"But you weren't," You reminded him, frowning as you watched his eyes close again. "But you weren't." You repeated.
He nodded softly against your touch, his eyes keeping shut as he felt your lips against his sternum, placing a soft kiss there. He then realized that no matter how littered his body was with scars, it didn't change how you looked at him. He looked down at your now-damp hair, admiring how much larger he was over you. Being roughly 6'4", his stature was nowhere near yours -- you were a woman with a maximum height of 5'2", leaving much room between the top of your head and his own chin when standing in front of him.
He loved it -- loved being so much bigger than you as his intimidation factor shot through the roof. He was a mountain of a man with the natural urge for fights and carnage. Compared to you, who was delicate with the only intimidation factor in your body being the sharp comebacks you'd shoot at both him and Soap when they'd want to tease you.
You shared a gaze with him briefly before he made the first move in leaning down to capture your lips with his. The kiss felt submissive and laced with regret for the argument that morning, but you didn't care. You always forgave him as it had always been a desperate attempt to understand what was going on inside of his head, but you were appreciative that he was willing to eventually explain things to you, even if it meant shutting down after the fact.
Your arms wrapped around his neck, the smell of his body wash enveloping your sense of smell as he depended the kiss. You two hadn’t been intimate since he returned home, which was the longest you two had gone without sex. Every other time he arrived home, it was that night he wanted to entangle himself with you, but the thought of almost being KIA ate at him like a disease, refraining him from any action for a long while.
You felt his hands slide down your back, gripping just under your bare buttocks before lifting you up into his arms. You shrieked with excitement, “Simon! Don’t drop me! It’s slick!”
“You’re not going anywhere.” He replied, moving his lips to your neck as he reached behind him to turn the water to a more desirable temperature as he was unbelievably hot with passion. He took your mouth in his again, feeling that familiar tightening below the navel. He had forgotten about how consumed he was in his negative thoughts after feeling the spark of your comforting touch. You were his wife - a loyal partner that he could confine to unconditionally and love even more.
He took your breasts into his hands as your back was now pinned against the wall and his lips were on your neck. The steam from the water concealed your splotches of blush on your chest as his lips traveled lower and lower until they reached your core. “Simon,” You panted, afraid he wouldn’t like the taste of you after a long shift at work. “I haven’t gotten to freshen up yet.”
He smirked, looking up at you before pressing a kiss to your hip, “Do you really think I give a fuck?” He growled before placing another kiss to your hip.
You panted, tightening your abdomen at the feeling of his fingers swiping between your folds. “Already soaking wet for me, huh?”
“Always, baby.”
He smirked, removing his fingers from your folds before holding them up to your mouth. Your lips took in his two fingers eagerly, tasting a sweet/salty texture. “Look at that. If you can taste yourself then you shouldn’t have an issue with me.”
Your chest rose and fell with excitement. He was right. You couldn’t taste anything when he put his fingers in your mouth. He then turned the shower off before picking you up effortlessly, his steps careful as he crossed the tile floor of your bathroom.
The two of you lay on the bed facing each other, entangling your lips with one another as he brought your leg up over his hip. He was rock hard and dripping with excitement to enter you. You were eager, too, but you didn’t want to rush. You felt the head of his member poking at your inner thigh and you couldn't help but roll your hips in a desperate attempt to feel him inside of you.
You moaned as you felt his hand sneak down to himself, teasing your entrance before that familiar white pain spread you open. You couldn't help but grip at the base of his neck, leaning your head back as your hips stilled when he began with a slow thrust.
Your leg that was draped over his hip tightened, giving you leverage to roll your hips onto him even more. He groaned into your neck, nipping at the flesh gently as one arm was wrapped around your shoulders and the other was pinning your hip close to his body. "Oh, fuck." You whimpered at the new position.
He smirked against your shoulder, his dog tags clanking as he moved to where he was on top of you, the tags now dangling in your face. You gently moved the sacred piece to where it was backward on his neck, the tags resting between his shoulder blades as his thrusts were feeling rough and full of need. He slowed briefly to bring both of your legs higher around his hips. Your hands gripped the back of his biceps, feeling the muscles tighten as they held his weight. You dug crescents into his skin as the pleasure was euphoric. "All fuckin' mine." He whispered.
"Likewise, baby," You muttered in response, now grasping either side of his face as you tighten your core, feeling your orgasm on the horizon. "Right there. Right there," You panted, your mouth agape.
His pace didn't change as he was desperate to feel your walls contract around him, guiding him to his own much-needed orgasm. Your palms pressed against his chest, feeling his strong heartbeat as the feeling of your hot palms against his pectorals was enough to mark you with his spend. As much as he hated how littered his chest was with scars, he liked that part of his body. It was like his own shield - solid and wide, providing excellent cover for both at home and on the field. He also loved the feeling of your palms on his chest as you rode him, but this sensation he was feeling couldn't wait for another position.
He had to finish now.
You two stayed in that position for what felt like an hour, even though it was more than likely to be almost ten minutes. It was sensual, erotic, and loving. Your mouths were dry by the time you parted your lips. Your breathing was heavy and labored as he kept your orgasm teetering on the brink of insanity. He enjoyed it. You couldn't take it anymore as your release was begging to present itself. He kept up the pace as he felt your walls constrict around him and your thighs tighten around his waist. Your chest heaved as your breathed out, a moan dancing on your tongue. "Let it out, sweetheart." He grumbled against your hot skin before putting himself on his knees and bringing one of your legs to rest over his shoulder and spreading the other with his free hand. You didn't care about any insecurity you had right now. He had you in a vice grip as he watched himself enter you, each withdrawal being coated more and more with the slick from your orgasm. Fucking hell.
His grip tightened on your ankle as his own release came. He stilled as you felt his cock pulsate, followed by a very vague warm feeling when you focused on it. He withdrew, watching his spend ooze from you. He used the tip of his cock to push it back in, wanting all of him to stay inside of you.
Both sensitive and stung from sex, he peppered your sternum with hot kisses as his hands traced up your sides.
Simon was back - the Simon you knew and loved. The Simon that was always warm to the touch and that softened his mood only for you. His palms were warm, matching your skin. You were his and he was yours.
