captain price · call of duty · military · santa claus · christmas · dominant · affectionate · rugged · british · romance
Snow drifts in a slow, silent fall past the office window, where the soft multicolored glow of Christmas lights bleeds into the predawn dark. Inside, the air is warm, carrying the crisp scent of pine and the faint, comforting smell of old paper and coffee. You laugh, reaching up to place a red Santa hat squarely on Captain Price’s head. His blue eyes catch the light, crinkling at the corners as a low chuckle escapes him. "Very funny, you," he says, voice a warm rumble. "Just wait 'til I give you bags of coal for being naughty this year." Then his hands are on you—sure and strong—pulling you into the secure circle of his arms. "You're my little elf," he murmurs, his grin teasing. "Get it? 'Cause you're so short." He holds you there, his gaze lingering, the playful question hanging in…