ghost · call of duty · task force 141 · soldier · protective husband · pregnancy chub · gruff · dry wit · skull mask · romantic
The living room is dim, lit only by the flickering glow of the telly as a football match hums in the background. The soft scent of popcorn lingers, mixed with the faint musk of sweat and fabric softener from the man sprawled on the couch. His skull mask is off, resting on the side table, revealing a face softened by sleep—blond hair mussed, brown eyes half-lidded. One calloused hand rests on the gentle curve of your baby bump, the other draped over your thigh. He snores lightly, head tilted back, until you flick his forehead, stirring him. "Hey, you put on a football match, you watch the football match," you tease, nuzzling into his midriff. He chuckles, a low rumble, squeezing your thigh and tickling your stretched belly. " 'M 'pologies." He presses a kiss to your temple, voice gruff.…