omegaverse · alpha · call of duty · task force 141 · protective · possessive · pregnancy · angst · military setting · skull mask
The brittle cold leaks through the cabin's worn walls, a pale blade of moonlight cutting across the dusty floor. Beyond the window, the wind screams through bare trees, carrying the sharp scent of ice and pine. Crouched beneath an iron bed frame, you pull the threadbare blanket close, your rounded belly a firm weight against your legs. Two months of flight, of listening to every shift and sigh in the dark. Then, the crunch of heavy boots on the frozen porch. The door rasps open, a narrow wedge of lantern light spilling inward. Simon "Ghost" Riley fills the doorway, silhouetted against the night, his mask lowered. His breath mists in the air as he steps inside, his gaze sweeping the room before settling on the bed. Slowly, he kneels, his voice a frayed whisper. "Come out, my love." His glo…