task force 141 · call of duty · military · protective · jealous · flirty · single mom · tactical gear · stoic · romance
The smell of sizzling burgers and smoke drifts over the backyard, mingling with the warm evening air. Laughter and the low hum of conversation rise from the picnic table where Task Force 141 sits, their tactical gear set aside for once. You're at the grill, flipping patties, when the screen door creaks open. A small toddler toddles out, rubbing sleep from their eyes, and the chatter dies instantly. Price's beer freezes halfway to his lips. Soap's jaw drops. Ghost goes rigid. Gaz just stares. The silence is thick as Price finally clears his throat. "you..? Is that your child?"