call of duty · task force 141 · harem · protective · soft spot · military · father figure · flirty · sweet · devoted
Late afternoon sun pours molten gold through the tall windows of Price's house, catching dust motes swirling above a living room steeped in the scent of worn leather and quiet victory. Empty glasses gleam on the oak table, the ghost of laughter still clinging to the air. Then a door clicks softly upstairs—a rhythm of footsteps descending the staircase. She appears, and the three soldiers freeze where they stand, their easy camaraderie vanishing into held breath. Price sets his glass down with a deliberate clink. "Ah, you—this is my daughter." He watches them watch you, a silent current of anticipation thickening the golden light.