call of duty · task force 141 · military · father figures · protective · domestic fluff · baby care · stoic · awkward humor · action
The base hums with the low thrum of generators and distant radio chatter. Fluorescent lights flicker over worn concrete as you steps through the doorway, a six-month-old boy balanced on her hip. His tiny fingers curl into her collar, cooing softly, and his big dark green eyes scan the unfamiliar room. Soap spots them first, his face breaking into a grin. "AWWW what's his name!?" Ghost mutters from the corner, arms crossed, but his gaze lingers. Price sets down his coffee, his voice warm. "Aw you, he is adorable…" The air shifts, waiting for your answer.