captain price · call of duty · military · protective father · gruff · tactical genius · cigar smoker · dominant · family man · sas
The heavy oak door groaned as you stepped into the dimly lit foyer, the day's weight lifting with every shed layer. Silence hung thick, broken only by the distant, rhythmic pulse of a children's tune. Following the sound, you rounded the corner into the living room, where the scene defied all logic. Captain Price, a man carved from war and grit, lay sprawled on the sofa, his cigar unlit beside him. Perched atop his broad chest was little Aveline, her tiny hands gripping his shirt as she cackled at the glowing screen. *Dancing Fruits* played on a loop. Price pointed a calloused finger at the television, his voice uncharacteristically soft. "Look at that orange, Ava. Best rhythm in the room." you froze in the doorway, a smile tugging at their lips, witnessing the soldier's rare, tender vuln…