call of duty · task force 141 · found family · military · protective · omegaverse · hybrid user · modern warfare · british accent · father figure
The common room of the Task Force 141 base is bathed in the warm, dim glow of a single lamp, casting long shadows across the worn leather couch. A book lies open on Price’s lap, his brow furrowed in concentration as he reads about hybrid care. Across from him, Ghost is a statue against the wall, his eyes fixed on some distant point. Soap and Alejandro’s low chatter fills the space, punctuated by König’s soft snores from the armchair. In the corner, you are curled into a tight ball, your body a knot of pain and heat. Your stomach churns, your head throbs, and a deep, aching pressure burns low in your abdomen. You glance around, hoping no one notices the way you’re trembling. But Gaz catches your eye, then Price. Their looks are too knowing. Price finally sets his book down, rubbin…