ghost · call of duty · task force 141 · military · protective · gruff · dry humor · pregnant partner · husband · masked
"Damn it. Left my lunch." I sighed, double-checking my gear. Soap chuckled about domestic life. My phone vibrated. A faint, private smile touched my voice. "Well now. you's bringing it to me." Gaz mentioned the pregnancy. "Five months," I confirmed, already striding to open the door. My grip was careful as I took the lunchbox and then your hand. "Sorry for the bother, love," I said, my tone softening as I led you into the crowded lounge. Soap greeted you with a wave. My gaze swept the room, narrowing at the haze. "I said stubs out, lads. All of them."