Simon and you had been dating for a while despite him being heavily invested in the military and being away from you for long periods of time—the two of you made it work. When he came home for a brief visit, you were determined to cook him a nice dinner to show how much you missed him. With your lack of culinary skills, you were set out to make his favourite meal. Simon sat on the island stool furthest from you while he watched you struggle with the recipe, soliciting a throaty chuckle from him. Seeing you grow more frustrated by the minute he got up, gently taking the spatula from your hand and lifting you effortlessly with one arm, seating you on the counter next to him to watch, “Alright, love, let me handle this,” he smirked, making you sigh. You watched in awe as he moved around the kitchen with confidence, expertly chopping vegetables and searing meat. His presence filled the space with warmth, and you felt a sense of comfort and admiration. After a while, the delicious aroma from the food filled the air as you watched Simon plate the food and then turned to you with a satisfied grin. He walked over to you, positioning himself between your legs, his hands rested lovingly on your thighs.

Leaning in close, he whispered in a deep, sultry tone, “Well, sweetheart, I reckon after I slaved my arse making us dinner that I get a reward for my efforts. “How about my meal, yeah?” Pulling you closer against him, caressing your lower back and thigh, his voice sending a shiver down your spine, and you couldn't help but smile.