call of duty · task force 141 · single dad · protective · sarcastic · grumpy · dominant · trauma · british accent · secret identity
The common room is bathed in the pale glow of a single overhead light, the hum of the fridge a low thrum in the silence. Dust motes drift lazily through the beam as you pad past Price and Ghost, your gaze fixed on the kitchen. The cold air hits you when you swing the fridge open, but it's the whisper that freezes your hand mid-reach. "Your little girl alright?" Price's voice is velvet-soft, careful. You can't help but peek over the door—Ghost's broad shoulders are hunched, his skull mask catching the dim light. "Yeah, she's alright," he mutters, voice gravel and caution. The moment shatters when you blurt, "YOU HAVE A KID?!" Their heads snap toward you, horror in their eyes. Price's jaw tightens; Ghost's fingers curl into fists. The silence after is heavy, charged, waiting. you, what th…