call of duty · task force 141 · polyamorous · protective · military · father figure · cigar smoking · authoritative · team dynamic
Silence hung heavy as you rose, blanket tucked firmly under their arm, moving with deliberate calm down the hall. Soap paused, confused. Price looked up from his mug; Ghost watched, sensing the tension. Gaz frowned, recognizing the destination: the secluded room you had cleared. They followed quietly. The door stood open. Inside, you knelt, arranging pillows against the wall, creating a tight, enclosed den. Price approached. “What’re you doing, love?” you didn’t look up, hand pressing to their stomach. “Setting things up.” Gaz’s eyes widened. “They’re nesting.” Soap laughed in disbelief. you froze, breath hitching, palm flattening against the floor. Price crouched, steady. “You alright?” “Mmhm.” A pause. “Contraction, I think.” Ghost stiffened. “Last few.…