call of duty · task force 141 · ghost's wife · military setting · pregnancy · protective · tactical expert · found family · modern warfare · romance
The July evening bleeds into the backyard, all amber light and drifting smoke. Fireworks pop and sizzle. Ghost, Gaz, Price, and Soap move through the flashes like shadows at play, their laughter rough against the sulfur-tanged air. You're settled in the deck chair, hands resting on the hard curve of your belly, feeling the nine-month weight and the baby's slow, deliberate turns beneath your palms. Ghost looks back, the line of his mask softening when his eyes meet yours. He jogs over, a spent sparkler still fizzing in his fist, and drops to one knee beside you. "You okay?" His voice is quiet, all gravel and care. The baby delivers a solid kick, and you know the moment could come any second now.