The way you had met Simon was straight out of a crappy romance movie - the classic trope of stumbling and the bigger man managing to catch you, rough and worn hands holding you steady as you gather your bearings. Luckily for you, you hadn't been a stuttering mess and had thanked him - though you were a bit breathy, staring up at him with wide eyes because Jesus was he something else. A big man who is tall and gentle despite the obvious strength he can dish out? Big brown eyes so dark and wet looking, it just robbed you of your breath.

It felt even more like a romcom when you offered to buy him a coffee in thanks - only for the other man to huff out a laugh, asking you to change that to tea, and he'd be down. Coy smile gracing your face as you nod, telling him there was a café nearby that made the most delicious drinks - and that you'll buy him his tea.

A few weeks of getting to know Simon led to you both eventually dating. Simon admitting that you manage to make him feel young and wild in a way he's never really experienced before, never really had the chance to experience - that he loves how you know when to be serious, and when to be lighthearted.

It was then that he confessed to being a soldier, that he understands if you want nothing to do with him - and that he was sorry for "stringing" you along. That his reasons for waiting a bit was partially because he never wanted the fun to end, but also because he didn't want you to suddenly switch up on him - to feel scared that a "monster" was in your presence.

You hushed him up once he had gotten that word out, grabbing his hands and shaking your head - calling him a fool for getting too into his head. While yes you are a civilian, you aren't the type to judge - especially not with your own profession that you yourself were hesitant to tell him. Hesitant because you've had your fair share of people who were so weird over what you did with your own body, and you really didn't want Simon to end up being one of those people.

You tell him that you're a camboy, a pornstar. Telling him you understand if he didn't want to go further with you, or even be your friend. Telling him that you like your job and don't plan on changing careers anytime soon, and that if he is going to react badly - to just leave and let these past few weeks go. To remember them fondly and never seek you out again.

You're clearly upset but holding it back for him - and he draws you into his arms, huffing at you to not be silly. That he has no right to judge anybody when he's done things others would call him a monster for, things he calls himself a monster for. Calling you silly for even thinking he would judge you, but that he understands and is just glad you two could continue to be close - continue to date and grow into the lovebirds he knows you both are meant to be.

With the hard parts out of the way, you both make so much progress with your relationship - months of navigating Simon's deployments, treating him with so much love and care when he comes back each time. Letting him unload all of his stress by telling you whatever he can as you massage him, all soft hands and murmurs against his skin - opening him up so gently on your fingers, mouthing at his spine how you're so glad he's here in your bed alright.

God, he craves you so bad when he's deployed - especially now as he reminisces over each time he comes back to you, groaning as he twists in his cot. Soap's snoring along with the low murmurs of Price and Gaz filtering through the walls of the shitty cabin they're in for the mission not really helping with his insomnia. Each time he remembers the way your hands feel on his skin gets interrupted by some sort of noise from one of the other men - and while he loves them, he really wishes they knew how to shut up. He does not want to think about you only to hear Price grumbling about a cigar he once had a few years back.

Simon sighs, pulling out his earbuds and plugging them into his phone - settling back into the shitty and too small bed beneath him, sorely missing the softness of your bed and lamenting the fact he'll definitely will wake up with a crick in his neck. With another heavy sigh, he decides to pull up one of your videos - the usual tried and true one where you speak so softly to your viewers, in a way he's so used to but has heard the true love and care in your voice.

Smugness rises in Simon. He gets your true love and attention, while your viewers get a diluted version that's clearly an act to him - he slowly melts into the bed, relaxing as your voice soothes his frayed nerves. Background noises fading away as his pants slowly begin to tighten, cock filling out in his underwear as he watches you fuck into a fleshlight. Memories of how you roll your hips the same way into him, murmuring against his lips how good he's being for you - it's just what he needs to push a hand under his boxers and slowly stroke himself.

God, he needs you. Needs to feel you knead at his sore muscles, to press kisses onto each new and old scar - to gently coax orgasm after orgasm from his tired and battle worn body. Aches to have you buried deep inside of him, filling him up with nothing but loving assurances against his lips - or whatever part of his body you can reach, peppering his skin with feathery kisses. As if he's delicate, something to be cherished and revered.

Something catches his eye, however - another video of yours, the title and your expression one he hasn't really seen before. An older one, a collab - which he usually avoids since he likes the specific one he watches each time he's away. Honestly, it piques his curiosity enough for him to just click without reading the tags - putting the video on full screen and mentally preparing to hear the usual soft tones of your voice.

But he couldn't have been any more wrong, the video's tone and setting so much more different than he's used to. It's a continuation of another video, and your partner is pinned down against the mattress - head held up as you force him to look up at the camera, cheeks dark and swollen lips parted to moan and cry out. Punched out noises escaping the bottom's lips as you pound into him with a heated fervor, in such a way that Simon knows the bottom's ass had to have been too sore to sit on after.

The scene that plays across Simon's screen makes his heart pound, vision tunneling as all he can hear is how good you sound. Glottal, gutturally low - the sounds of skin clapping unable to drown out your words. Calling the bottom all sorts of names, but one particular word the bottom calls you that you instantly zone in on and use - has Simon's thighs clenching and his fist speeding up around his cock.

Sir.

Sure, Simon has seen how others practically throw themselves at the others - the rare brave soul even trying that with him - nearly frothing at the mouth to call any the 141 sir with an all to breathy noise they've all come to laugh about whenever they're alone together. Price lamenting the fact that people truly have lost all their subtlety. The thing is, Simon's never understood the appeal of calling someone sir while they're fucking you. Hell, before you he rarely ever bottomed for anyone - quickies meant to fuck out the frantic energy of a mission gone good, usually fucking the life out of whoever caught his eye or needs to be fucked - Hell, the other 141 members have bounced on his dick a few times, and him doing the same in return on the every now and then.

But when Simon got with you, it was so so so easy to always fall into bed to be underneath you - though the first time, he had assumed you wanted to bottom. But no, you took the reigns and took him apart so divinely, Simon became devout. Your name falling out of his mouth in a litany of prayers, a constant orison tumbling from his lips that let you know just how good you made him feel. Simon isn't a religious man, but in that moment - and each moment after - he swore you were celestial in nature.

So to see your sweet nature be so.... Domineering. He suddenly understands why so many recruits practically cream their pants when calling him and the other members of 141 'sir'.

He pulls his cock out from beneath his boxers, lifting up his shirt and stuffing the hem into his mouth so he's quiet - trying so hard not to whimper loudly, going fuzzy headed as he works himself up to the brink with your voice filling his ears. His tip wetter than he's ever had it, no doubt making noises intense enough to be heard through the thin shitty walls. Simon doesn't care, however, because he needs to cum while hearing you degrade whatever guy you're fucking in the old collab - trace amounts of jealousy over you not railing him like that fuel his need for you until he spills all over his fingers.

Fuck. When he gets home to you, he's going to get you to fuck him just like that - because sure you can smooth away all the stress he carries in his body, but he'd much rather be made into pure mush every once in a while. Desires his brain melting out of his ears as you bang every noise he didn't even know he could make out of his throat.

That need built up for months. Four long months of a mission only meant to last one month, dragged on because of new information dropping and enemies refusing to stop popping up like an infestation of fucking roaches. Months of having to find the smallest window of time to jerk himself off, sometimes having to stop and put his length away to deal with later because of some stupidly urgent situation.

So understandably, Simon really really needs you to rail him into a coma. Preferably in front of a camera so everyone can stop asking you for a new collab.

Because of course that was something else that had popped up ever since you stopped collabing with others. Wanting to wait and talk with Simon in person so you could both discuss boundaries in person instead of hushed phone calls and texts whenever Simon had the time. That small amount of jealousy had festered into the desire of wanting to be claimed by you, fucked by you so everyone could know that you have a lover - that your dick belongs inside of him and him only.

Simon had practically fled the base with a quickness no one has ever seen from him before - telling the 141 that as much as he loved them - if anyone, including them, got in his way he would genuinely spin their jaws. Fleeing the base with everyone giving him such a wide berth that anyone looking at the scene would assume Simon has the plague. So antsy to reach you after his very thorough shower, that he can't even remember how he managed to get to your apartment so fast - later realized he broke speeding laws.

You had been prepared, after all, those brief calls and texts were filled with Simon being so transparent in them. He had no room for embarrassment when it felt like he was losing his mind with want. Fuck, he practically tears the door off its hinges after unlocking it with his spare key - slamming the door shut behind him as he strips off every layer of clothing. Leaving a trail that leads towards the room you record in, where you're sat there naked and smiling on the bed. A bottle of lube and the cameras all primed and ready for you to record with them, not yet rolling as Simon needs to grab a different mask than the ones he wears out and about.

"That needy, huh sweetheart?" Your voice already pitched in that low throaty way he's been needing for months now has him whimpering, taking off his mask to pull on the one you offer him easily. White fabric stretching across his head, breathable yet covering his face perfectly - and a loose long sleeve shirt meant to cover his tattoos so no one can recognize him. After all, it would be very annoying to navigate someone possibly trying to blackmail him - so this was the best way for him to get what he wants, especially since if this goes well..... He wants to do it again and again. The thrill of being seen by so many people that regularly tune in to watch you, hell a livestream could be in the future one day - Simon Riley being claimed, live for anyone to see. Hell, Simon might let the boys see when he gets back to base. But for now, it's just a recording that you can edit and post so everyone knows he's yours to fuck and use.

You get up from the bed to start rolling as he positions himself, chest against the bed with his ass up in the air - presenting himself like a bitch in heat, which he wouldn't have any other way. Hands and arms limp by his head that's resting against the pillows, body relaxed and so ready for you - instinctively knowing he's about to get the best sex in the damn world, knowing he's truly about to get ruined and turned off from anybody else should you two part - he wouldn't allow that to happen, because any damn issue will be fixed.

God it feels like coming home when you settle behind him, smoothing a hand down his thigh and pressing a small kiss to cleft of his ass - taking your time to explore the muscles you can reach, hands dragging across his skin and under his shirt to knead at his stomach.

"Get on with it." He croaks, spreading his knees apart and tilting his hips down so his cheeks jut out - sighing in relief when your hands move to grope at them, manipulating the muscly fatty flesh firmly.

"Watch your tone, darling. We'll get there when I say so." Hollow tone reaching Simon's ears, syrupy in such a way it settles him - muzzling the way he wants to get snippy with you for trying to take your time. He is, however, unable to stop the fussy sound he makes - squirming in place, only for you to swat at the meat of his ass.

Simon honestly feels whorish for the sound he makes, unabashed and punched out moan tumbling from his mouth - a hissed out yesss as you roughly grab the cheek you slapped. Lightly tapping the red imprint on his skin, chuckling at how he leans into the small sparks of pain running along his nerves. Each globe now being kneaded in your hands once more, smiling down at Simon's back when he squirms.

"What? The other cheek needs attention too?" Chuckling when you see him nod into the pillows, jutting his ass out and wiggling with a needy sound - God, he really is desperate for you to ruin him. Really, how could you deny him?

Tapping each cheek gently, warming up his skin and muscles before sharply cracking your hand against the fat of his other cheek - his moans and sighs filling the air as each stinging pat is delivered to his behind. Practically making the other man boneless as his rear slowly becomes a healthy rose color, his thighs shaking from the pleasure filled pain of you so aptly pulling him apart - his lips parted beneath his mask so he can let out tiny little gasp, the strength in his legs weakening as he slowly sinks down onto the bed fully. His ass barely tilted up as he loses himself in your hands giving him what he damn near demanded for months.

Fuck, he looks like a feast.

It's truly not your fault that you need to have a taste, arms caging the outside of Simon's thighs as you lower yourself down to your stomach. Hands pulling Simon's wrists down and keeping them there by his hips, before finally burying your face in between his cheeks.

The noise he makes is so decadent. A mix of something half between a strangled shout and mewl, a pure primal sound that has you grinning against his rim - his body jolting as he uselessly kicks his legs, unable to move away from the way your tongue traces his hole - lapping and mouthing away at his tight ring, barely able to rock his hips back up against your face since you don't allow his knees any space for him to find enough stability to move his pelvis enough to press up into your mouth.

He can only take it, your strength keeping him still as you lave at his furled entrance - hole spasming around your tongue when you thrust it into him, pushing past his tightness and groaning at how loud he gets. Octaves you have never even heard, nor thought, Simon could reach fills your ears. Almost frantic whining sounds spilling from his throat as you eat him out, fucking your tongue into his hole in a constant rhythm - making Simon feel so open and naughty from the way your wet muscle soaks his hole with spit.

Sure, you've eaten Simon out - but you usually do it with a soft sort of reverence. Never have you held him down and made him take each lap of your tongue, made him take each shove of it past his rim - never made it so that he couldn't move his hips and rub himself back onto your face. It makes his core clench around your tongue, it feels so lewd to be skewed with the dripping muscle. Desperation for any sort of friction building up within Simon, making him begin to sob into the pillows as his neglected cock ruins the sheets beneath him.

"Please! I need more, fuck!" Oh so whiny instead of the low timbre you're used to, God it makes your own cock that's leaking onto the bed twitch with an aching throb. You fucking need to bully your cock into his walls, and you needed it yesterday.

You let go of Simon, sitting up on your knees as your mouth begins to pool with spit - grabbing his hips and heaving the trembling man into a deep arch, shiny and spit slick hole winking at you as it clenches around nothing. Wet enough for one finger to slowly breach the slightly loosened muscle, gently beginning to open him up - and God he's tight. Hasn't had the time to properly open himself up before finally getting back home to you, only able to work his cock on the rare occasion he wasn't too busy or needed - and Simon needs this to be as raw as possible, he wants to feel an ache whenever he moves around.

"Another - fuck - please. Want it to burn - God, please - don't be sweet." Simon whimpers out, groaning as you let you spit drip from your mouth and onto his hole - easing the glide of your second finger slowly pushing into him, hole fluttering like crazy around your fingers. Sinking in one continual push, drool softening the burn of such a quick stretch after the first finger.

But for Simon? It's pure heaven. The way you're just using your saliva to open him up, not lingering while opening his walls - making him take and yield to each additional digit, it hurts so good. Building a delectable dance along the very seams that hold him together, mouth open to let out consistent unbroken stream of noises - he knows and doesn't care about how whorish he sounds, he's losing his fucking mind to how good he feels. Getting exactly what he's been craving for months now has Simon thoroughly enjoying himself.

God, and the fact it's all on camera? To be edited and posted online, a public claiming without his identity being truly revealed? Everyone knowing that he's yours to fuck like this? The only one you'll do this to ever again? It has Simon's head woozy with a heady feeling, so dizzy with pleasure that he doesn't even realize you've pulled your fingers out until he feels your tip against his hole.

He should feel embarrassed with the way you spread his cheeks in order to spit on his hole and your tip, before finally sinking in one uninterrupted swoop - punching out a noise high from the back of Simon's throat.

"Sir!" He sobs, scrabbling for purchase - only for you to snarl and pull out - dragging him to the edge of the bed and planting your feet against the floor. You grab his wrists, and pull him back as you thrust back inside of his walls.

"If I'm going to fuck you, I'm going to fuck you like this. Like you're the perfect little fleshlight for me, which you are. Aren't you baby?"

That, drives Simon wild - practically howling for you, loudly wailing - sobbing as each precise thrust against his prostate is so perfect. Rigid and uncompromising while slamming your hips into his cheeks, properly drilling him like he's nothing but a toy to unload all your stress on. Each prod against his prostate is precise with pin-point accuracy, and it's truly everything Simon's been so impatiently waiting for. The months of lackluster orgasms with his fist, hushed conversations with you whispering into his ear how you'd fuck him - coaxing him to his peak and cooing over the phone just how sweetly good he is for you.

He doesn't last long, spilling onto the sheets beneath him with cry - too frantically delirious and frenzied with the pleasure and very thought of being claimed by you like this. His soft sobs of overstimulated pleasure soon fill the air, but like the champion he is - Simon keeps moving his hips back so help you reach the edge and tumble past it. Purposefully clenching and releasing his walls around your prick with an excitement to be filled up by you.

Simon also knows the best way to get you to cum quicker, the best way to make you just as wired up as he was. Sniffling through his tears as he tries to catch his breath, gulping for air and swallowing thickly - consciously melting against the sheets in such a way that you have to readjust your grip and pull him back tighter.

And by the Gods are you strong. Fucking into Simon so hard that he knows he won't be walking right for at least a week. Knows that his back will ache so fiercely, and it's so worth it when each tempting thrust makes his spent cock twitch valiantly - the wet friction of his cock trapped against both his stomach and the bed helping to build him up once more.

But the need for him to feel your cum inside of him, to paint his walls white with every single last drop of spend grows inside of his chest - making a fresh wave of tears slip down his cheeks. God, he's a hairsbreadth away from cumming - all he needs is for you to fill him up.

"Sir, sir - fuck - please inside. Cum inside please, fuck." Simon mewls, blubbering through his tears that soak his masked face - weeping from how satisfying each rough drag against his prostate is. Fisting the sheets with such a tight grasp, cock grinding against the bed from each harsh thrust - skin slapping skin in each deafening clap of flesh, hands pulling Simon's wrist back into your thrusts so he can't escape them. Even when he uselessly kicks his legs, it only leads to making him be even easier to pull him back into each thrust you push in.

"I'll cum where I want, darling." You rasp, feeling the way he becomes and absolute vice around you at your words - making your brutal pace stutter, hoarse moan tumbling from your lips as thick spurts of cum fill Simon up. Almost syrupy in it's viscosity, your load heavy in its amount - virile and potent, sloshing against Simon's quivering walls. His body going taut as you keep pumping your hips into him, screaming out in a cracked and throaty way - making him cum around your length for the second time in such a short timespan, sobs spilling from his lips because it's so intense for him. Overwhelming in such a good way that he just can't help but cry, burying his face against the sheets as your hips slowly still.

You lean down over him, lips softly kissing up his spine while your arms wrap around him - shushing him gently, practically cooing at him as you mumble praises against his skin. Slowly pulling out of him and muttering apologies when he whines through his crying, quickly turning off the cameras so you can return and care for him as best you can.

Simon doesn't know when he stops crying - but he can feel how much you love him in each soothing motion. The way you speak to him about why you're leaving the room to grab a wet washcloth. Can feel it in how your gentle hands roll him over and remove the mask to press soft kisses to his cheeks, thumbing away his tears while whispering how pretty he is - how he did so well.

He feels it when you take off his shirt and begin to wipe down the sweat from his body, careful in every movement to not overwhelm him as you eventually clean his skin of the cum on and in his belly. Can feel it in the way you heave him up into your arms, and bring him to your real bedroom - how you grab a water bottle from the kitchen after you darted away so you wouldn't be apart from him for too long.

Simon knows he is loved when you clamber onto the bed with him, sitting up against the head board and bringing him back against your chest - holding the water bottle to his lips and making sure he takes small sips so he doesn't choke. Sweetly muttering against the crown of his head that he did perfect, that he took everything so well - that he did excellent for you, and how much you love him.

"I love you, Simon." You breathe out so easily, nosing at his no doubt sweaty and damp hair - a bit overgrown since he hasn't really had the chance to take care of it during those past few months away.

"I love you too." And Simon means that with every fiber of his being. From the tips of his strands, past the roots of his hair - through the muscles and veins that make up his body, straight over his bones and cartilage. Hell, if Simon could he would only every breathe you into his lungs and keep you there in the crevice next to his heart.