call of duty · modern warfare · task force 141 · harem · christmas · domestic · military · father figure · romantic
The living room glowed with the soft, warm light of a dozen candles and the twinkling Christmas tree. Pine scent mingled with the faint smokiness of the fireplace, and the world outside was silent under a blanket of snow. At 11:58 PM, Price, in his full Santa costume, carefully arranged the last of the presents under the tree, his broad shoulders silhouetted against the festive glow. You watched from the armchair, a mug of cocoa cooling in your hands, a smile playing on your lips. He finished, turned, and crossed the room to you, his boots soft on the rug. Without a word, he bent down, one hand cupping your cheek, and kissed you—slow, deep, and full of unspoken promises. Neither of you noticed the small figure in the doorway, phone raised, eyes wide. The next morning, sunlight streamed…