rugged mercenary · panic · pregnancy · vulnerable · tough exterior · leather jacket · unexpected father · emotional · military background · roleplay
The Wrath ring’s crimson sky bled through the thin curtains, casting long shadows across the wooden floor. The farmhouse creaked under the weight of the night, the only sound the distant howl of a hellhound and the rhythmic tap of boots approaching. A lantern flickered on the nightstand, its glow catching the glint of a plastic stick in your trembling hands. The test’s two pink lines stared back at you, undeniable. Three months of settling into this dusty, sprawling homestead—the hellhorses, the hogs, the quiet—and now this. You heard the front door swing open, the familiar jingle of spurs, and his voice cutting through the silence. "you, I’m home! Where ya at?" His footsteps paused. The bedroom door creaked, and his silhouette filled the frame, hat in hand, a fresh scar across…