Work Text:
t comes to no one’s surprise that Simon is the dominant personality in your relationship. The 141 Lieutenant comes across as unnerving and rude at the best of times, downright fucking terrifying at worst. Between his size and his demeanor, not a person on the planet can picture him being dominated, especially by something as sugar-sweet as you.
When you make your way into his life, a bet is placed amongst teammates for just how long it’ll take for you to run screaming from Ghost. Gaz bets $50 you don’t make it past the third date. Soap drops $100 saying you’re out the door with the first shag. Price silently places $400 and only speaks when prompted by the Sergeants.
“Once he’s got his teeth in ‘er, she’s goin’ nowhere ‘less its in a body bag.”
Simon and Ghost operate as two entirely separate entities--Ghost haunts the base, terrifying recruits and aggravating the brass. Simon haunts your bed at least three nights a week when on leave, making your neighbours regret ever moving into the cheap apartment building. Your headboard slamming repeatedly into the paper-thin wall and wails sometimes loud enough to wake the dead. Or be the dead.
He keeps his lives separated, the same as his names. You’ve never seen the mask, you don’t even know of its existence, only aware of the handsome scarred face you love so much with his big, crooked nose from being broken too many times and the scar through his lip. Ghost is a brutish, violent, rabid dog of a soldier. Simon is tame, for the most part. Anger only makes an appearance when he feels you’re being threatened and even then, it’s less than he gives a recruit for back talk.
No, if Simon has a problem with someone, he deals with it when you’re not looking. To you, he's a quiet, loving, slightly over-protective man and he intends on keeping it that way.
You know of the 141 men only by civilian names- John, Johnny, Kyle. If you ever heard a mention of ‘Gaz’ or ‘Soap’, you would be confused to hell and back. Simon is careful to never misspeak. The closest he’ll ever allow you is the occasional mention of ‘Cap’ and wearing his dog-tags.
Which, as of now, are plastered to your skin, held mostly in place by the sweat dripping down the valley of your breasts. Simon’s hovering over you, his body all-encompassing around you, filling each and every one of your senses- and your pussy- to the brim with each passing second.
“What a pretty girl,” Simon coos and adjusts the way he’s got your legs thrown over your shoulders, your body folded in half under his. Your moans of pleasure are muffled by the thumb Simon slipped into your mouth, caressing the back of your tongue and keeping you quiet.
He knows the trifecta to ease you into subspace- something in your mouth, gentle praises whispered to in your ear, and the soft but intense eye contact that he’s currently locked you into while he worships your body with each roll of his hips. He can see that pretty haze he adores glazing over your eyes, glossy and wholeheartedly focused in on the man you love as you suckle almost mindlessly on the digit.
“So beautiful,” He continues to praise you, rolling his hips to a soothing rhythm all his own that’s sweet like strawberry wine and warm like whiskey. He looks down at you like you’re divinity. As if the person under him is something to be worshipped and it only slips you further into that hazy, calm space. “My baby, yeah? My pretty subby baby?”
A sot hum of agreement eases around his thumb and through your lips with a tiny nod, damp lashes fluttering as he grinds steadily into your G-spot. The man knows your body like the back of his hand, if not better, and he isn’t ashamed to use his knowledge.
“You’re taking me so well, lovie,” He praises with a groan when you clench tight around him. If he wasn’t so used to being gentle with you, his control would be slipping through his hands like quicksand right now. “Do you need to cum, hm?”
You give another nod with a quiet, muffled whimper, a tear dripping into the crease of your eye. His free thumb ghosts over the tear track and wipes it away with a shush that has the rest of your mind melting away. “Let it happen, lovie. Breathe through it. Deep breaths like we practiced."
Hard and fast orgasms aren’t unknown in this bed from either partner, but something about nights like this is just… otherworldly.
Ecstasy sinks in slow and sweet as if being poured over your bones, seeping into the bone marrow and fusing with the atoms of your being. Simon coos as your body becomes plastered to his when you arch underneath him with a short breath, eyes rolling back and fluttering shut. A moment later your lungs are being slowly filled with air, taking deep breaths that prolong and intensify your orgasm. Following the instructions he laid out for you as if you were born to do it.
“That’s my beautiful girl,” He murmurs when you sink down into the sheets once more, sated and eyes further hazed by the chemicals soaking your brain. Those blown pupils hold pure love and devotion, the kind only a well-built Dom/sub relationship can offer on top of the love between the two of you. You know you’re allowed to pant now and so you do. His thumb gently caresses your tongue once more before sliding free to brush your bottom lip.
“Can you take a little more, sweet’eart? Give me a color, hm?”
You know whole-heartedly if you even let out a whine right now, Simon would stop immediately with no regard for his own orgasm. He would deprive himself of any pleasure he could think of to prevent even a moment of discomfort on your end.
No words leave your lips, but your fingers tap the pulse point of his wrist once- the nonverbal agreed-upon sign for ‘Green’. The idea of Simon either depriving himself or having to get off in the bathroom doesn’t sit right in your soul and even thinking about releasing him from between your legs dissatisfied feels like a cheat to both you and him.
He maneuvers your body so he can continue easing up to that bone-shaking pleasure waiting for him at the peak and to have access to your mouth. “Won’t be long sweets, I promise,” Simon whispers and brushes your lips together in a languid and loving kiss.
True to his word as always, the room buzzes with the deep groan he lets out that stands the soft hair on your arms straight up right before the warmth blossoms and settles within you. He comes up for air both from the kiss and his climax with a gasp of your name. Slowly but surely, his hips ease to a stop. “You did so good, baby, I’m so proud of you. My love.”
Your entire body feels like warm brandy underneath his, your mind stuffed as if you’ve taken shot after shot of whiskey. You tell him so in a quiet murmur and he laughs in the middle of pressing little kisses to your jaw and chin. The sound of it makes the room glow with warmth, every inch of you pleased that you pleased him. “Means I did my job right, love. You’re still cozy in your subspace hm?”
He earns a little nod, and you’re rewarded for your answer with a warm hand soothingly rubbing your sides, focused on comfort and not sensuality. “We’ll get your pretty little body cleaned up and then we can cuddle. I think you earned it tonight.”
There’s an easily identifiable lilt to his words, teasing and playful. He’s never made you ‘earn’ aftercare a day in your life, that would be a violation of your relationship.
After some time to recover, he slides free of you, leaving an empty sensation that makes you whimper. He makes sure to be gentle easing your legs down to the bed, giving you a soft forehead kiss and a promise to be right back before he slips from the sheets and the room altogether.
Aftercare might just be your favorite part because Simon goes all out each and every time. The offer for a bath is sleepily declined so he cleans you with the softest rags you own, warm with the perfect temperature water. Then he covers every inch of your body in your favorite lotion, massaging any possible tension out of your muscles from head to toe.
Simon takes his sweet time with it, working into the arches of your feet and the muscle in your thigh. He works to get the knots out of your shoulders with hands skilled enough you wonder if he’s secretly a masseuse and not a soldier, earning you a kiss to the calf. “Hush an’ enjoy it, lovie.”
Once he’s melted you even further into a mess of loose limbs and sleepy sub, you’re dressed- in his clothes, of course- and tucked into his warmth in the soft blankets. He scratches soothingly at your scalp and rubs your back until you fall asleep and only debates going to sleep once he’s sure you’re out for the night.
He’s capable of fucking you within an inch of your life, but sweet and warm nights like this are your favorite.