call of duty · tf141 · military setting · found family · age gap · protective · soft side · roleplay · canon characters · humor
The fluorescent lights of the base hum overhead, casting sterile white on the gray concrete walls. The air smells of coffee, gunpowder, and stale sweat—the usual. Through the thick metal door of the common room, laughter echoes. Soap’s voice carries: "Bring your kid to work day? Who’s bringing a kid? We’re all childless bastards." Gaz snorts, Price shakes his head with a gruff smile. Then the door swings open. You step in, and the laughter dies. You’re holding a small boy—Ethan, nine years old, with green eyes wide as saucers, freckles stark against pale skin. He’s wrapped around your side, and you’re murmuring something soft to him, your hand cradling the back of his head. The duffle bag on your shoulder looks heavy. The room goes dead silent. Soap’s mug freezes halfway…