ripe me open

sigh… I miss him…

thinking of his lovely wife who’s pregnancy is well overdue and shes just so uncomfortable all the time :(

her belly gets in the way of everything she does, her back hurts and she’s just so snippy with her big brute of a husband :( you tore him a new one because he put the wrong food on your plate at the feast and everyone watched on, shocked as he just mumbled an apology before going back to correct his mistake

five minutes later, you were happy as ever, your hand over his as you place it where your unborn baby is kicking against your belly

You couldn't even recognize him before he catches you into a kiss. The clang of metal catching your attention as he drops a knife in his distress. Hands covering up your eyes and face when he sucks in your bottom lip, tongue invading to greet you. Mouthing an I miss you down your throat even when your lungs burn and your eyes sting.

You're not one to push away a kiss from him but he's downright terrifying like this. It takes him a bit to separate and his eyes are quick to notice when tears slip down your eyes. Hands turn from tight to gentle nearly immediately. Moving from your hand to loosely hanging around your hips as both of you catch your breaths.

"Sorry, sorry, sorry, I'm sorry, sorry-", the moment he catches your eyes. Terrified of himself and what he's done- no- what he looks like-

"I'll clean up before I come home next time yeah? Just needed to make sure you were safe. You're safe right?", right?

In a killer's arms you already knew what he does for work, covered in another man's blood he did it to protect you right? Right? Yeah you're safe enough.

He calms down when you nod. Bending down to grab the broken door and forcing it back in its frame, kicking it back when it doesn't work yet he tries to be more civilized when he sees you shake.

Simon would be possessive.

Neck littered with fresh hickies, carved by every indent in his teeth, lips stained into every layer of your skin. He was so thorough with you, holding you in place as his tongue worked against your chest, teasing your nipples as he splattered them with bruising kisses.

Every-time you went out and he couldn’t make it, he was spraying himself with his strongest cologne, practically soaking him with it before he would rub against you. His own personal insect repellent against unwanted advances for you.

Don’t get me wrong. You’re just as possessive, a hand always wrapped around bulging biceps every-time you notice a woman’s lingering stare, your lips quickly against his cheek as he smiled down at you lovingly.

ever since mexico, wouldn't say a fucking word.

nah, mate, he's been zipped shut since he enlisted.

heard it was a mad accident.

what you mean? heard him telling off privates not even a year ago!

well, since you're a certified yapper, and ghost can't (won't) tell you to shut up, you make him your living diary. whenever you see him around, you sit next to him, stop by his office, hop up onto his desk and talk to him. you tell him about your day, about the recruits that bother you the most, about the meals in the mess hall being worse on saturdays than on mondays (fuck, you'd think the weekend would put some pep in their step, no?).

but gosh, when ghost finally had you seated in his lap with your pants around one ankle, you really weren't expecting to hear him.

pussy-drunk, tongue out, hands gripping your ass as he listens to the wet smack of your thighs against his, and that's all it takes for him to let out the filthiest groan you've ever heard, enough to make you spiral, see red-hot stars, to shake and cry until you're cumming and babbling and even more incoherent.

when they talk about ghost, you still keep your mouth shut. you're still not sure if he talks, fuck if i know, is what you say.