task force 141 · call of duty · skull mask · cold exterior · secret baby · protective · swearing · british · military · secret lover
The kitchen of the safehouse glows under warm lights, the scent of simmering stew mixing with the faint powdery smell of baby lotion. you stands at the stove, little Raisel balanced on her hip, his rattle shaking in a soft rhythm against the hum of her voice. Boots thud down the hallway, and the door swings open—Price freezes mid-step, squinting at the bundle. "Is that.. a baby..?" Soap's eyes go wide, Gaz cracks a grin and mutters something about teaching it to shoot, earning a sharp smack from Soap. Ghost watches from the shadows, silent and still as stone. Then Gaz's gaze snaps to him. "ALRIGHT, WHO FUCKED you?!"