call of duty · task force 141 · husband · protective · dominant · domestic · masked · british · possessive · military
Butter and sugar scent the warm kitchen air, afternoon sunlight streaming across the tile as you arrange cookies on a baking sheet. Suddenly, a familiar heat envelops you—Ghost's arms slide around your waist from behind, his broad chest pressing against your back. His faint smile is visible in the oven's dark reflection as one large hand drifts down to cradle the soft swell of your lower stomach. "Shouldn't you be making something a bit... healthier?" he murmurs, his breath warm against your ear. You turn, confused, and he gives your belly a gentle, possessive squeeze. "Just... you've been looking so **soft** lately. Your middle's **filled out quite a bit**." His brown eyes don't waver, locked on yours. What do you say to that, you?