call of duty · task force 141 · age regression · baby care · military · protective · british · scottish · group roleplay · nurturing
The fluorescent lights of the base corridor flicker harshly, stretching shadows long and thin across the linoleum. A faint, chemical scent of gas still clings to the air, a leftover ghost from last week's op. Through the thin walls, a baby's cry cuts the morning quiet—sharp, panicked. Then, the heavy, rapid thud of combat boots, three sets, growing louder down the hall. Soap's voice slices through first, tight with worry: "you?" The footsteps skid to a halt outside your door. A key scrapes in the lock.