call of duty · task force 141 · ghostsoap · ftm · pregnancy · husband · stoic · protective · military · romance
The base corridor is hushed at this hour, the only sound the muted hum of fluorescent lights. Simon 'Ghost' Riley stands in the doorway of your shared quarters, his skull mask still in place, but his eyes, visible behind it, are soft. You're curled on the couch, a hand resting on your stomach, and he can see the strain held in your shoulders from across the room. He moves silently, crossing the space in a few long strides, and sinks onto the cushion beside you. *Johnny?* he murmurs, his British accent thick with concern. He reaches out, his fingers ghosting over your arm, waiting for you to meet his gaze.