Botanical [ 8 Colors ]

Simon had always known he was possessive, but this… this was something new. It all started during a rambling, half-drunk conversation with Soap, the kind they’d both forget by morning—except for one comment that had lodged itself in Simon’s mind like a splinter.

“Lass can’t forget you if she’s knocked up with your baby,” Soap had muttered with a lopsided grin, slurring just enough to make Simon dismiss it at first.

At first.

Simon knew you’d never forget him, no matter how long he was deployed. He trusted you, loved you in ways he couldn’t always put into words. But once the thought was planted, he couldn’t forget it. Maybe deep down it was the fear you’d leave or just the desire to know that you were fully his, round with his child, but whatever it was, when he got notified of an upcoming assignment, he knew he was gonna damn well try.

Which is how you ended up here now, pressed into the mattress beneath him, his broad chest blanketing your back as his lips dragged heatedly along your neck. He reaches around, pulling your body up enough for you to stabilise yourself as he roughly palms your breasts, tweaking your nipples between his fingers as he continues to rut against you.

He's been at it for hours, fucking you with a relentless intensity, determined to fill you with every drop of his cum before he leaves. You’ve lost count at this point, never knowing he could go for so many repeated rounds but you certainly know it now as you feel his cum run down your thighs, the squelching noise every time he fucks back into you, a combination of your arousal and how many loads he’s given you so far tonight.

"Fuuck-" he groans, his voice low and gravelly with desire. "Gonna knock you up so good. Gonna make sure you're round with my baby by the time I get back."

He pulls out, his cock sliding from your well-fucked hole 

He stares down at your pussy, mesmerised by the sight of it dripping with his cum. He leans down, his face mere inches from it as his heated breath ghosts your folds. He watches, transfixed, as another thick spurt of his previous load oozes out of you.

"Fucking hell," he mutters, his breath hot against your skin. "Look at that. Look at what you do to me."

He reaches out, his fingers gently parting your swollen lips to get a better look. He teases your entrance, circling it slowly before scooping up some of the cum that's leaking out and guiding it back in with his middle and ring finger.

He pushes his fingers deeper, scissoring them to work his own cum back inside you. He wants to make sure every last drop takes.

"Gonna plug you up-" he growls, his voice rough with lust. "Keep you nice and full of me.”

He withdraws them, glistening with the thick, pearly fluid before bringing them up to your mouth, pressing his fingers against your lips.

"Go on-" he purrs as he slowly pushes his fingers into your mouth, letting you suck them clean. You can taste the saltiness of his cum mixed with the musky scent of your arousal. It's a heady combination that makes your head spin.

"Good girl," he praises, his voice rough with approval. "Such a good girl for me."

He pulls his fingers out of your mouth, only to bring them back down to your pussy. He circles your clit with them, the slickness of his cum providing the perfect lubrication before he gestures for you to roll onto your back.

He straightens back up as he slides the head of his aching cock through your folds, nudging the head of his cock against your entrance, teasing you with shallow thrusts that do nothing to satisfy the ache inside you.

"Y’not going anywhere," he murmurs, his voice low and rough with emotion. "Not after this- fuck -you’re not leaving me…You can’t–”

You could hear the subtle desperation in his words, a fear that you'd abandon him. He needed to know that you would be here, waiting for him, even when he was deployed.

He kisses desperately, trying to put every fiber of his being into this kiss, hoping to portray even a fraction of the strong love he felt for you. His hips start to move again, his cock sliding into you with a groan. He sets a slow, deep pace, each thrust deliberate and purposeful as he works himself in and out of you.

"Fuck, I love you," he grunts, the words torn from him. "Love you so fucking much…You're my everything, I swear I’ll never let you down-"

He wraps his arms around you, holding you as close as possible, fingers digging into your flesh as he impales you on his thick cock over and over again.

"Fuck, you feel so good," he groans, his forehead pressed against yours. "So fucking tight and wet for me. Always so ready for my cock, god you’re perfect-."

He adjusts his hips, changing the angle of his thrusts so that he's hitting that spot inside you that makes you see stars. Your back arches off the bed as your nails rake down his back and you moan wantonly.

"That's it, baby," he coaxes, his voice husky with desire. "Gonna' fill you up so good. Gotta make sure it takes before I leave-

His hips piston faster, his balls slapping against your ass with each thrust. He's getting close, you can tell by the way his muscles tense, the way his breath comes in short, sharp gasps.

"Gonna cum," he grunts, his thrusts becoming erratic. "Shit- fuck-”

He buries himself to the hilt, incoherent mutterings rolling off his tongue as his cock pulses, filling you with another thick load. He bites down on your shoulder to muffle his groans as you feel it, hot and heavy, painting your insides white. He collapses on top of you, all his weight heavy upon you, though you don't mind at all, arms wrapping tightly about him.

He stays buried inside of you, his now softening cock still buried deep within you. He rests his forehead against yours as his breath comes in short pants, trying to catch his breath.

"I meant what I said, you know…gonna' make you mine in every way possible," he murmurs, his hand coming up to cup your cheek as he lifts some of his weight off of you. "Want you to have my baby- And when I come back, I'm gonna marry you because I’m completely yours and I want you to be fully mine, officially."

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

reblogsノcomments are greatly appreciated <3

© ghostsanctity → do not copy or translate any of my works

the only thing keeping me going at my extended family christmas party is reading tumblr and c.ai i can’t lie

who are you when nobody is watching?

movement plan: october 14 - october 20

monday: 15 minute cardio + 35 minute dumbbell upper body + 10 minute upper body stretch

tuesday: 7 minute warm up + 38 minute dumbbell lower body + 20 minute lower body stretch

wednesday: 30 minute cardio + 10 minute abs + 14 minute post-workout yoga

thursday: 30 minute full body stretch

friday: 40 minute hourglass dumbbell workout

saturday: 30 minute cardio hiit + 20 minute full body stretch

sunday: 30 minute yoga for flexibility

ok but Ghost who realizes how much his size turns you on and then can’t keep himself from emphasizing it whenever you’re around. Spreads his thighs when he’s sitting to take up more space. Rolls his shoulders back and straightens to his full height when you walk through the door (his posture is already military-grade, but it’s that last infinitesimally small, casual slouch that disappears when you’re in the room in favour of emphasizing his height). Starts wearing shorter sleeves or rolling up his sleeves to show off the pronounced muscle of his forearms. Whenever it’s just the two of you, he always has a hand on you somewhere, showing you how much space his hand takes up on you, how much of you he can fit in his palm.

october reset starting tomorrow because it’s always better late than not at all :)

if my (future) husband doesn’t think about me when Cover Me Up is on, he’s not the one.

simon riley who get's hurt too easily, comes from each mission with at least couple bruises, from banging some door, falling too rough, fighting in close combat with enemy, all of this leave it's mark on his pale, tender skin, marring him bluish purple, with bandages and plasters that hide blooming hematomas and tiny cuts.

he doesn't tells you about his wounds, knows you would fuss over him, thinks that it's the way they should be and that they'll heal by themselves, even through he barely can pull his body up each morning, aching, pain dulling his sleepy senses, and simon get's unlucky by meeting your worried, sleepy gaze as you look at his scarred, battered body.

simon's hoarse groans is what makes you flutter your eyes open at the early morning, and instead of sleeping face of your boyfriend, you see the wounded expanse of his half turned aside body, lighten up by the pale rays of sun, violet blooms over the yellow and blue, could be as pretty as flowers, but it's what hurts him.

you want to ask him why he didn't tell, why he suffered in silence from the time he came back home, but you see his gaze, apologetic, like one of a guilty dog, blonde eyelashes framing his eyes, tawny under the sunlight, softened at the edges with unspoken regret, so instead of scolding him like a little boy, you brush your feet along the carpet, rising to fetch a first aid kit.

simon keeps still when you treat him, pliant, looking you in the eyes, in search of your gaze, all the while you touch each of his arms, his chest and stomach, changing the bandages and cleaning each cut and bruise, tenderly, your fingers feather over his body, as he can't stop tilting, craning his neck, getting into your way as if purposefully.

you push his head away, meeting his eyes sternly, huffing, but seeing how the furrow he held to his brows all this time dissipates, a silent exhale leaving his chapped lips when your irises meet in an exchanging gaze, you know he tried to make sure you didn't cried, didn't troubled your mind because he got wounded, because it's pains him to think his actions hurt you.

simon nuzzles his head against your chest, your hands, busy with treating him, now squeezed by his chest, the one that rumbles with a disgruntled growl as you try to free them, until they don't wrap around his body, brushing, rubbing against his naked back, over the rippling muscles, as he squeezes you tighter, listening to your soothing, comforting whispers.

main masterlist. quidelines.