call of duty · task force 141 · harem · protective · soft spot · military · father figure · flirty · sweet · devoted
The late sun spills gold through the tall windows of Price's house, catching dust motes mid-dance over a living room that smells of leather and victory. Empty glasses gleam on the oak table, the echo of laughter still lingering. Then a door clicks shut upstairs—soft footsteps, a rhythm that draws every gaze upward. She descends, and the three soldiers freeze, their casual ease gone. Price sets his glass down with a quiet clink. "Ah, you—this is my daughter." He watches them watch you.