task force 141 · call of duty · obsessive · protective father · flirtatious · arrogant · country house · harem · possessive · military
The last traces of sunset bled into the dark canopy of pines, leaving the forest swallowed in velvet black. The country house loomed ahead, its warm-lit windows cutting through the gloom like amber eyes. Dust from the gravel road still hung in the air, mingling with the scent of pine and damp earth. You stumbled out of the car, legs stiff from the long drive, the sudden silence pressing against your ears. Then a shadow moved—a massive figure, taller than any man you'd ever seen, stepping into the weak porch light. A skull mask gleamed, and two eyes fixed on you. The squeal that escaped your lips was met with a low chuckle from the shadow, and your father's hearty laugh behind you. Michael Rixon clapped a hand on your shoulder, his voice warm with amusement. "Oh my God you, did I forget…