Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The exterior of the base was a bleak place, with absolutely no Christmas decorations to be seen. Even the gently falling snow didn't inspire Christmas cheer in your forlorn soul. You thought of your home, the North Pole, with its brilliant Candy Cane Spires, Chocolate Rivers, and Marshmallow Mountains, and a wave of nostalgia engulfed you, causing you to shiver as you made your way towards the entrance of the base. Your elf outfit did little to protect from the harsh cold, your exposed skin erupting in goosebumps. You wrapped your arms around your waist to protect yourself from the unabating elements, but it was no use. Even elves fell victim to the chill of winter. 

"Hey!" called a voice, startling you. You turned around to see a hulking figure approaching you. The gun gripped in his hands did not startle you so much as the horrifying skull mask adorning his face. "What're you doin' here?! Civilians aren't allowed on base…" Suddenly he trailed off, his dark eyes roving over your figure, coming to a stop at some point beyond your head. "What the bloody hell…" he breathed, seeming to be in disbelief. "I don't believe my eyes… an elf..?"

Just then, your world flipped upside down as your knees suddenly collapsed beneath you. You blinked, and suddenly you were looking up at the gray sky above, the birds in the distance becoming blurry as you lost consciousness. 

The last thing you heard before the darkness engulfed you was a shout of, "Bollocks!" 

You slipped in and out of consciousness, jostling in a pair of muscular arms, his grip steady as he clutched you to his hardened chest. Your head rested on his plush pec, the perfect pillow for your tired head. You shut your eyes and fell asleep to the soft beat of his heart.

❄️

The next thing you were aware of was the soft crackle of firewood. The smoky scent surrounded you, seeming to warm up your frozen bones. Blinking your eyes open, the world around you came into focus. You laid upon a bed in a stark gray utilitarian room, warm light coming from the fireplace along the far wall. You basked in its warmth, snuggling into the scratchy blanket cocooning you. You turned your head, and there he was. The man from earlier, his dark eyes, almost black in the low light of the room, staring back at you. 

"Hey, you. You're finally awake, eh?" 

You sat up, the blanket falling away revealing your off-the-shoulder form-fitting bright green dress, white fur of the Snow Yeti lining the décolletage of the bodice, velvet ribbon lacing down the front, holding it all together and revealing a luscious amount of skin to the man's eyes. However, he didn't appear to be interested in such things. 

"Wh…what happened?" you asked, your voice wavering with weakness. You had walked all the way there from the North Pole, and now your body was suffering the consequences. Your muscles ached and your head pounded. Just then, your stomach made an embarrassing grumbling noise. 

"You passed out, that's what." He raised an eyebrow at you, then stood up at the sound of your hunger making itself known. "Got you a little somethin' from the mess." He walked over to a table where a tray sat, steam billowing up from a bowl and cup. 

He brought it over to you, setting it down on the end table beside you. The smell hit you then, hot stew and tea. It made your mouth water. You grabbed the tray and tucked-in to the warm meal with gusto. 

"Atta girl," he purred, and you blushed at his praise. 

The soup could've used a tad bit more sugar, but your stomach didn't care about the taste right now. Once the soup was devoured, you sipped lightly at the tea, and had to struggle to swallow it down, cringing at the sugarless flavor. 

"Thank you…" you trailed off, placing the teacup down and tucking your hair behind your pointy elf ear. 

His gaze trailed over to said ear, his eyes alighting in curiosity. "I have some questions, if you don't mind."

"Of course, Mister. It's the least I could do after you've been so hospitable to me."

He gestured to your ear. "Are you… are you really an elf? I thought they were just a myth made up to entertain children." 

It occurred to you that you must look very different compared to him. Though you'd never met a human before, you'd heard tales of their features, most notably their lack of pointy ears. You'd had a friend named Pom Pom back in the North Pole who had visited the human realm once. She returned with grand tales of the various men she'd met on her journey, and she had filled your head with fantasies of hardened bodies and large, girthy— 

You caught yourself in this inappropriate train of thought. Feeling the man's eyes on you, you felt heat rise to your cheeks. "I'm no myth," you say, unable to look him in the eyes. 

"I can see that." 

"Yes, I'm an elf. I came here all the way from Santa's Village in the North Pole."

He looked impressed, though you couldn't see his face beneath his mask. "...I see. The North Pole, eh? Quite a journey." 

"It was," you say, feeling excited to share your tale. "First, I left Santa's Village before traversing through the seven levels of the Candy Cane Forest, then I journeyed through the Sea of Swirly Twirly Gumdrops. Once I reached the ocean, I boarded an iceberg pushed by my dear friend, Mr. Narwhal. He and I traveled the treacherous ocean until I reached the shores of Great Britain. Finally, I popped into the London Underground, and now here I am. With you." You gave him a sweet smile. "But…" A frown encased your features. "I don't know your name…" You gave him a pleading look, your doe-like eyes gazing up at him. 

"They call me Ghost." He leveled you with a penetrating stare. "Now, who are you, and what are you doing on this base?" 

You gave him your name, but felt reluctant to reveal your true purpose for being there. Instead, you said, "I was given a mission by the big man himself, Santa Claus. He wanted me to spread Christmas cheer throughout this base. We recently received intel from our field agents that there is a disturbing lack of Christmas cheer here." 

"...I see. Well, I think you need to speak to Captain Price about this."

"Alright, let's go talk to this Captain Price." 

You slipped your legs out from under the blanket before Ghost stopped you. "Think you can walk? Or do I have to carry you again?" 

"No, I… I think I should be fine to walk," you said as you stood up from the bed. However, your legs betrayed you and you found yourself stumbling directly into his arms. He held you steady, the feel of his hardened chest against your soft breasts sending your heart fluttering. You gazed up at him through your thick lashes, your mouth slightly open in an O shape, to find his dark eyes gazing back at you with staggering intensity. 

"Oh!" you gasp, stumbling back and righting yourself. "I'm so sorry, Mr. Ghost!" 

"Ghost will suffice," he grunted, turning from you and leading you out of the room. 

With each step, the bells attached to your hat and high heels jingled, causing heads to turn in your direction. At least, you thought it was the jingling that brought everyone's attention to you, surely it couldn't be anything else, right? 

The two of you journeyed through the halls of the base until Ghost came to a stop outside a door before knocking twice. 

"Enter!" came a gruff voice from inside. 

Ghost opened the door for you, allowing you to enter before him. You did so, stepping into a warm room smelling of caramel mingled with tobacco. Across from you, a man sat behind a large mahogany desk, a funny-looking hat perched atop his head. Clutched between his plush lips was a plump cigar, the end glowing orange. Smoke wafted about the room. As Ghost shut the door behind you, the man behind the desk glanced up at you from beneath a pair of spectacles, his blue eyes flitting back down to his paperwork before suddenly returning to you, shock and awe filling his visage. His lips loosened into an O shape, the cigar plummeting from his mouth to the desk as his eyes roved over your figure appreciatively. 

He stood, the pen clutched in his hand forgotten as it fell to the floor, and walked your way, his gait heavy with intention. 

"Captain John Price, at your service, ma'am," he stated, holding out a hand for you to take. You grabbed ahold of it, noting with satisfaction that it was much larger than your own. You pulled him towards you, then stood on your tip-toes to press a kiss against both of his scruffy cheeks. Said cheeks turned pink. Your hand lingered in his as he gave you a smoldering look before bringing up your dainty hand to lay a kiss against your soft and dewy skin.

"It's an honor to meet you, Mr. Captain John Price," You provided your name and then explained, "I'm here to spread Christmas cheer!" 

Mr. Captain John Price chuckled, the sound filling you with liquid warmth. "John will do for now," he said. "I'm already feeling your Christmas cheer, love." He gave you a cheeky wink to which you blushed. 

"Oh!" you cheered, jumping with joy. "That's wonderful! My mission is off to a great start, then." 

"That's wonderful," John said, glancing over your shoulder to send Ghost a questioning look. "This all your doing, Ghost?" 

"Negative, sir. I found her outside where she collapsed in the snow," he replied. "She told me she's an elf from the North Pole." 

"An elf..?" John trailed off. 

"From Santa's Village, to be precise," you interrupt. 

John guffawed at that, holding a hand over his belly like Santa himself, his eyes twinkling with mirth. "That's a good one, love!" 

It occurred to you then that he didn't believe you. 

"It's true!" you argued. "I'm an elf. I traveled all the way from the North Pole to bring Christmas cheer, and I won't have you disregard my mission like that." 

"It's alright, love, you can stop with the act now. How about we spread some Christmas cheer later tonight? What are you doing later? Perhaps we can get a drink." 

Frowning, you turned to look at Ghost who tilted his head at you.

Turning back to John, you brought up a hand and snapped your fingers.

Snap! 

Silver and gold tinsel appeared on the walls, sparkling in the light. Your eyes flickered from John to the tinsel as if to ask, What do you think of that?

John's mouth fell open, his eyes bugging out in disbelief.

"Bloody hell," breathed Ghost behind you. 

"I don't believe it… You really are an elf…" John said. 

"Told you so." You smiled.

Chapter Text

John Price sat in his office, thinking about the mysterious elf girl who had wandered onto his base. He'd instructed his lieutenant to give her a tour of the place, though he'd much rather be the one showing her around but he had so much work to do. Now he sat back, cigar smoke getting into his eyes as he stared at the wall and thought about her. 

❄️

Every soldier stationed on-base for the holiday season was gathered in the meeting room. Raucous chatter and boisterous laughter could be heard coming from the room. Soap noticed Ghost was sitting somewhat removed from the revelry, and though the mask concealed his face, the tension in his shoulders was visible. Soap scooted his chair closer to his friend. "What's up, LT? Not excited for Price's weekly meeting?" he asked, nudging Ghost's shoulder. 

"Not particularly, no." 

Soap began to reply, but suddenly silence engulfed the room as the sound of jingling bells could be heard approaching the room. Everyone looked towards the doorway as Price entered the room, followed close behind by… a woman dressed as a Christmas elf. 

"Good afternoon, you lot," greeted Price. "I've called this meeting to inform you of recent goings-on about the base." He gestured with his clipboard towards the woman who was wearing a bright green dress with white fur lining. The dress reached her mid-thighs, and perfectly accentuated the voluptuous curves of her body. Her legs were adorned with red and white striped stockings and atop her head sat a green Christmas hat with a bell dangling from the end. 

Price introduced the woman by name, then continued, stating, "She is an… elf… from the… North Pole… sent here… to spread Christmas… cheer…" 

Each word felt like it was ripped from Price's mouth, as if he were struggling to force them out and into the open. He wouldn't meet his mens' eyes. 

Tense silence permeated the room as all the men sat staring at Price in disbelief. 

Then, Soap laughed. Loudly. "Aha! Good one, Price!" He slapped his knee, keeling over as laughter racked his body. "An elf! Ahahaha! That's pure, unadulterated pish!" 

Wiping a tear from his eye, he glanced up to see Price's eyes trained on him, the serious expression on the older man's face drying up the humor in Soap. 

His eyes drifted over to the woman standing beside Price, and he realized with horror that her eyes were glistening with unshed tears. A tear slipped down her cheek and she quickly averted her gaze before dashing through the doorway. To Soap's surprise, Ghost stood and rushed out after her, leaving the room bathed in awkwardness. 

Price shuffled his feet for a moment at the front of the room, sifting through a pile of papers on the table before him before clearing his throat. "Alright, then. Let's uh, discuss the overuse of electricity on-base. We need to start turning off the lights when we leave the room. Saving a watt, saves a lot…"

❄️

Meanwhile, Ghost caught up with you easily, his long stride outpacing yours. A gentle but firm grip took hold of your arm. You stopped, steadying your breath as you tried to calm down from the shock of not being believed. Was Christmas spirit and cheer so low in Great Britain? Did no one believe in Santa Claus and the elves anymore? It broke your heart to see the devastating truth of the human world.

Tears escaped your eyes, falling down your cheeks in rivulets as Ghost pulled you into his firm chest. "It's alright, love. Let it all out. That's right." He softly patted your back with one hand, while trailing his other through your hair. You brought your hands up, fisting his shirt as you sobbed into his neck. His scent of gun oil and musk surrounded you.

Soon, your tears had dried. "Thank you," you said quietly. 

"Now, what was all that about? Why're you cryin'?"

You sniffled. "No one believes in Santa anymore," you said with a pout.

He tucked a finger under your chin, gently tilting your head up so that he could gaze into your eyes. His were filled with steadfast devotion. 

"Then you'll just have to make them believe."

"How?"

"This is a cruel, hard place. The men here are rough, and they've been through a lot. Their hearts are surrounded by ice. But you, my little elf, you can melt that ice. I'm sure of it."

"Really?" you asked, hope filling your eyes once more. 

"I believe in you." 

A smile lit up your face, warmth filling you again. 

"Now, shall we head back to the meeting room?" 

❄️

The two of you returned to the room to find Price in the middle of a speech concerning toilet paper usage. He promptly paused when he noticed you, his eyes twinkling as he gazed at you with heated intensity. "Looks like the Christmas elf has decided to join us once more. So, do you wanna explain to the boys your mission?" 

"Gladly," you said, marching to the front of the room and looking out over the men seated before you. 

Your gaze was determined as you sized up the men before you, various looks of amusement and disbelief greeting you.

You smiled brightly as you looked from face to face before bringing up your hand and snapping your fingers. 

Snap! 

A variety of Christmas hats similar to yours appeared on the men's heads. You snapped your fingers again. 

Snap! 

The walls of the meeting room were decorated in red and green tinsel garlands, with paper snowflakes hanging from the garlands at various lengths and in various Christmas colors. 

"That's better!" you said with a grin, "Now, as I was saying, I am a Christmas elf here to fill this base with Christmas cheer. I was sent here on a mission from Santa Claus and I won't be leaving until I succeed." 

A shocked silence filled the room. Mouths dropped open. Eyes became wide as saucers. You glanced to your side towards Ghost, who gave you a nod of approval. 

'I'll be damned…" said the man who'd laughed at you earlier as he stroked his stubbled chin in thought, his eyes burning into you from across the room. You had noticed the bulging muscles of his arms, though your eyes had been filled with tears you couldn't help but notice how defined and strong they were, unlike the scrawny arms of the elf men back home in the North Pole. You wanted those arms around you, to squeeze you, pressing your soft and supple form into his hardened body. You wanted to be held tenderly in those arms, feel them around your waist as you rode him like a reindeer.  

❄️

Later that evening, everyone gathered in the mess hall for dinner. You made your way there with Ghost who seemed content to be your guide through the base. He led you to the line where you both picked up your trays of food before sitting at a table in the far corner of the room. You could feel the eyes of all the men trained on you, and you heard whispers of that's the elf as you passed by tables. Once seated, you scooped up a spoonful of the goop they served you before tentatively sticking out your tongue to taste it, the memory of the sugarless soup and tea from earlier haunting you. The goop tasted absolutely awful, too savory for your refined palate. You placed the spoon back down, considering your options when you noticed the man sitting beside you had lifted up his mask to eat, giving you a view of his plump and pink lips. The sight sent shock-waves of desire coursing through your body. Ghost seemed to notice your attention because he glanced at you before quickly lowering his mask. 

You opened your mouth to ask him about the mask when suddenly a figure approached your table. It was the man from earlier, the one with the thick arms who hadn't believed you were an elf. "This seat taken, LT?" he asked. Ghost shook his head and the man set his tray down across from you and Ghost. 

He was gazing at you, his dark blue eyes twinkling with curiosity. You felt sheepish, feeling your pointy elf ears become warm at all the attention and you sunk down a little in your seat as if to escape it. 

"You got something to say, sergeant?" asked Ghost, threat lacing his tone. You sat up straighter knowing he had your back. 

The one known as "sergeant" chuckled, then held out a hand for you. You looked at it with curiosity, recalling John doing the same back in his office. "Just wanted to come meet the elf," he said. "She's the talk of the base, after all." 

Tentatively, you reached out for the man's hand and pulled it towards you before laying a gentle kiss to the back of it, your eyes trained on the man's the entire time. You watched as darkness eclipsed the blue of his eyes, something dark and dangerous lurking in their depths. 

Beside you, Ghost cleared his throat, and you released the man's hand.  

"I'm Soap, by the way. Sorry about earlier." 

"It's alright. I understand it's a lot to take in. Elves don't often journey into the human realm." 

You provided your name with a smile and surreptitiously pushed the food tray away from yourself. Soap raised an eyebrow, "Not to your liking?"

You gave him a sheepish look, "Human cuisine is very different from what we enjoy in the North Pole." 

"We can't have you starving before you even start your mission to bring Christmas cheer, now can we?" He smiled at you and continued, "Let me help you find something to eat." 

Soap stood and held out a hand for you. You took it, his skin rough with calluses, but gentle as snow as he tugged you away from the table. The two of you walked through a doorway leading to a large industrial… kitchen? Your mouth dropped open. 

"This is the kitchen?" you asked in disbelief. 

"Aye," he said. "You don't have kitchens back home?"

"Oh, we do." You trailed your hands over the sleek silver counters lining the walls. "Just, not like this." Turning towards Soap you gave him a smile, warmth filling your chest as you recalled your home. "Back home, we have stone ovens constantly firing up the best dessert, gingerbread cookies covered in icing and sprinkles, chocolate-stuffed pastries, apple streusel pies, cinnamon-nutmeg cakes frosted with vanilla crème…" 

You drifted off as you lost yourself in the memory of spending hours in the kitchen, helping your grandmother, Gam Gam, as well as friends and family bake all kinds of treats. Closing your eyes, you could almost smell the scent of honey-roasted pecan pie mingled with fresh peppermint hot chocolate, frothy and warm. 

"Y'alright, lass?" asked Soap as he placed his hand gently on your shoulder.

"Yes, it's just… I miss my home. My friends and family, we used to bake together…" 

"I see. Well," he said as he walked over to a door, opening it to reveal a large pantry filled with all kinds of boxes, jars, and bottles. "What would you like to make?" 

Your eyes twinkled as your mouth dropped open into a wide smile. You felt like Christmas had come early. Stepping into the pantry, you let your eyes take in all the wonderful ingredients before you, bags of sugar and flour, bottles of spices and syrups; your mind circling through all the different possibilities. You settled on making a simple winter spice sponge cake with a decadent cream cheese frosting. Once all the ingredients were portioned out the two of you set to work making the cake batter. Soap gamely acted as your assistant, handing you ingredients and stirring the hazelnut-infused milk. 

As you started whipping up the egg whites by hand, Soap spoke up, his voice washing over you, "Let me help you with that." 

He held up a curious looking machine. You took it in your hands, examining its bulbous shape and long, wiry tail. Recognition clicked. You'd seen photos of this item in magazines that had washed up on shore back home in the North Pole. You looked up at Soap with wondrous excitement. "Is this… a mixer?" 

"Aye! That it is, lass!" 

Soap plugged the mixer in and handed it to you. 

"Here you go. Press this button to turn it on and hold it like this," he explained, adjusting your arms appropriately. 

You pressed the button, giving the egg whites a spin, however the bowl wiggled around wildly as you did so. Suddenly Soap came up behind you, encircling you with his arms, the arms you had daydreamed about, his warmth seeping into your back. He steadied the bowl with one hand while he brought the other up to cover your hand holding the mixer. A shiver ran down your spine as he encircled you, you leaned back against his solid firm body, the hardness of him keeping you steady as you mixed away. 

He leaned in close to your, his head fitting perfectly in the space between your head and shoulder, the scruff of his facial hair tickling you softly. "Easy there, lass… That's it… Steady now…" His hot breath ghosted against your skin, making you blush. You tried to focus on the egg whites but found yourself getting lost in the sound of his voice, the rolling syllables and the hint of something unplaceable… 

Soon the egg whites were done and you placed them aside to prepare the batter. Once that was finished, you mixed everything together before placing your creation into a preheated 350 degree oven for 30 to 40 minutes at the equivalent to the elvish temperature of five logs of wood (the temperature system used in the North Pole). 

While the cake baked the two of you worked on making the cream cheese frosting. You found your hands brushing together, lingering touches and long glances stoked the fire between you as the fire cooked the cake. Soon you and Soap were sitting atop the cleaned counter, the bowl of frosting between you both. You playfully scooped up a dollop of frosting with your finger and booped Soap's nose with it. "Boop!" 

Soap chuckled, the sound rumbling from his chest as he caught your arm before you could pull completely away. Then his lips suddenly engulfed your finger, his tongue swirling around the tip of the digit like it was the most delectable lollipop, his eyes closed in bliss. 

Your mouth gaped open like Mr. Narwhal's when you'd told him you were leaving the North Pole. 

"Tastes good," he growled. 

Before you could say anything in reply, a voice from the doorway startled you. "Heard you two were getting up to some mischief in here," said John. 

Soap released you, the feel of his closeness melting away like soap in the bath. 

Looking up, you caught John's eyes across the kitchen. He gave you a smile, waltzing into the room. "Smells good," he commented. 

"Oh, yes! We're making a cake." 

"I see. Were you thinking of sharing this cake?"

"Yes! In fact, I was hoping to share it with the entire base."

"Wonderful!" John clapped his hands. "I'll let the boys know."

Ding!

"That's the cake!" you said excitedly, jumping down from the counter and pulling your creation out of the oven with a mitt. You let the cake cool for twenty minutes while you told John and Soap about your life in the North Pole, how your parents had grown up working in a toy factory where they had met and fell in love. Once they married, your mother became a stay-at-home elf, as was custom in elf culture. Your father specialized in rubix cubes, his skills especially prized by Santa himself. Your chest puffed up with pride as you said this, this fact being a source of pride for your family. You then explained that you were put to work in a toy factory at the age of five. Because of your small, nimble fingers, you were put to work by the foreman soldering chips on the motherboards of Apple laptops. At this, Soap and Price gave you what could only be described as shared looks of horror. 

"Wait, what?" asked Soap. "Yer tellin' me that you worked in a factory soldering chips on laptops at age five ?"

"...Yes," you said, tilting your head in confusion. Your work was a source of pride for you. "The foreman said I was his best and most reliable worker in the factory. He even gave me an extra minute off on my five minute lunch break six hours into my twelve hour shift." John and Soap exchanged a look. Before either of them could speak, you reached out to check the temperature of the cake. "Oh, the cake is cool! Would you like to help ice it?" you asked absent-mindedly as you began to prepare the frosting to spread. 

"Sure," John said, reaching over for the knife. He began to spread the icing over the cake but the spread was uneven to your expert eye. 

"Whoopsie-daisy!" he said with a hearty chuckle. 

"No, no," you admonished. "Like this." You reached over to grab ahold of his hand, helping to steady his grip so that the spread of the icing was even. 

Glancing up at him, you noticed the twinkle in his eye and the small smile gracing his lips. "Are you…are you pulling my strings, Mister Captain John Price?" 

Soap piped up from your other side, "Yeah, don't fall for it, lass. He knows his way around the kitchen." 

"You do?" 

"I love to cook. I taught myself, in fact. Baking, too. You could say I'm good with my hands." He gave you a playful smirk which you returned with a playful slap to his bicep, but your fingers lingered and you ended up entranced by the firm muscles beneath. Your eyes widened as you massaged his arm, enjoying the feel of his strength and might beneath your tender touch. Your mouth watered, and not just for the cake you were baking. 

"It's very impressive that you taught yourself. Granny Elf taught me to cook and bake. My parents disapproved…" Your voice became wistful as your eyes glazed over with memory. 

"I never had much of a family," John breathed. You looked up at him, into his eyes which glowed with intensity, his gaze flitting down to your lips. 

"Neither did I…"

A laugh from Soap pulled you from your reverie, and you looked over at him to find his fingers dipping into the frosting bowl. Reaching over, you playfully slapped his hand away, telling him to "Stop that." Looking at the big, buff men on either side of you, you shook your head. "Naughty boys." 

❄️

Soon, the cake was finished and you brought it into the mess hall to find all the men gathered, plates held at the ready. Everyone sat together as you cut the cake into slices and served it to the men one-by-one. 

A change in the air was felt as everyone ate together. You felt an inkling, a feeling that you might just belong here, a Christmas elf on an S.A.S. military base.

Chapter Text

As you sat beside Ghost, eating your cake, you glanced over at the stoic man beside you to watch as he enjoyed your creation. Pride welled up inside you. Maybe your imaginary mission to spread Christmas cheer throughout the base was working. 

"Tastes good, love," he stated, placing down his fork. 

Reaching a hand up, you slowly and carefully wiped away some frosting stuck to the corner of his lips. At the feel of your touch, he flinched, but stayed still to let you wipe it away. Bringing your finger to your plush lips, you licked away the frosting as you gazed heavily into Ghost's eyes, watching with satisfaction as the pupil blew wide, completely engulfing the honey color of his iris.

Ghost held your gaze, his eyes seeming to caress your face, falling from your eyes to your warm cheeks, before flitting to your slightly open, pink lips. 

❄️

Soon, it was time for bed. 

The captain instructed a man named Gaz to lead you to your bedroom. You followed the man through the base until he came to a stop outside a door. "Here you are. I'm Gaz, by the way. Nice to meet you. I've always wanted to meet an elf." He held out a hand which you took, bringing it to your lips to kiss. Gaz chuckled awkwardly, rubbing the back of his head with his free hand. "Why're you doing that?" 

"Oh," you said, releasing his hand. "Is that not the human custom?" 

"Not necessarily. I mean, sure, but… it's just unusual, is all."

"Oh, well Mr. Captain John Price did it to me, and I just thought…" 

Gaz blinked. "I see… Well, I hope you sleep well. If you ever need anything, feel free to ask me. My room is right there," he informed you, pointing to a door down the hall. 

"Thank you, Mr. Gaz!" 

❄️

That night, you laid in bed beneath the scratchiest blanket known to elfkind. You thought over the journey that had brought you here to this base, surrounded by these big handsome hunks. It was hard to believe that just a few days ago you had been dealt some awful news and decided to take the course of your life into your own elf hands. Perhaps here, on this base, you would find the solace you were searching for. This thought buoyed you as you drifted off to dreamland to dance with the sugarplum fairies. 

The next morning you awoke to the sounds of Mr. Captain John Price's voice shouting out commands. Curious, you peeked out of your window and what you saw left you with an open mouth. The men were lined up outside, shirtless in the snow. They were performing exercises, their bodies slick with sweat, their muscles rippling as they moved. The sight was mesmerizing and you could feel your mouth begin to water. You pressed your face closer to the glass, like an eager customer eyeing rows of candy in Santa's Village Candy Shoppe. As their hardened bodies moved, you felt a burning hunger growing in your core. You knew no amount of cake could satisfy it, you needed something else, you need to feel–

You were broken out of your trance as the men started to make their way back to the base. You left the window and started to get ready for the day. 

You snapped your fingers and your green dress transformed into a pink mini dress with a sweetheart neckline. The hem and the bodice were trimmed with yeti fur. Additional yeti fur pompoms dotted down the front of the dress and dangled off your boots and gloves which were pink to match your dress. Happy with your appearance, you left your room and skipped down the hall to explore the base. 

As you did so, you noticed once more how bleak and dreary the base looked. The lack of Christmas decorations made you feel sick to your stomach. That had to change immediately, you decided. So you snapped your fingers once more, and green and red tinsel lined the walls of the hall you currently stood in. You continued like this for some time as you walked through the base, snapping your fingers to decorate each room you came across. 

Soon you began to feel tired. You had depleted your merry mana stores and needed to take a break for the time being. You sat down on the floor of the hall, resting your head against the wall behind you.

A pair of footsteps echoed down the hall, getting closer towards where you sat. You peeked an eye open to find a pair of boots entering your field of vision. You looked up to find the man from last night, Mr. Gaz, standing before you, his eyes filled with worry. 

"You alright?" he asked kindly. 

"Oh, yes! I just had to take a break from decorating the base, you see. My merry mana has been depleted and I have to rest for a bit." 

"I see," he said. "What's 'merry mana'?"

"Merry mana is the power within each elf that gives us our magical abilities. Our mana can become depleted if we over use our merry magic. We have to take care to balance the use and consumption of our merry mana or it causes us to be in a state of extreme vulnerability." 

"Makes sense." Gaz said, his brow furrowed in thought as he digested this information. 

He glanced around. "I like what you've done with the place." 

"Thank you!" you said proudly. 

"I have an idea. We might have some old decorations in a supply closet somewhere." He extended a hand out for you to take. You gripped his hand in yours and he lifted you easily to your feet. The warmth of his touch lingered on your palm as you walked down the hallway together.

He led you to a closet filled with all kinds of junk covered in dust. In the very back of the closet, atop a very tall shelf, sat a box labeled "X-mas". "Oh dear…" Your shoulders deflated at the sight of the neglected box. "You don't celebrate Christmas too often around here, do you?" 

Gaz shook his head. "We're usually busy fighting for our lives off-base." 

Standing on your tip-toes, you reached up to grab the box, just barely brushing it with your hands. 

Gaz came up behind you, resting a hand on your waist as he pressed his firm chest against your back. You felt a growing warmth in your core at the contact, heat rising to your cheeks. You grabbed a hold of the shelf in front of you to steady your weakening knees. Reaching up with his other hand, Gaz grabbed the box from the shelf and brought it down to place in your arms.

"Thank you!" you squeaked, taking the box. You sneezed as you opened the aging cardboard, the dust motes getting in your eyes and nose. You sneezed again and looked at Gaz who gave you an apologetic smile. 

The two of you peered into the box, Gaz pulled out a silver garland with snowflake accents, "These don't look so bad," he replied, holding his find up for you to assess. 

"Yeah, that would look great over the entrance to the mess hall!" 

The two of you got to work stapling up the garlands and placing fake tufts of snow atop various surfaces throughout the base. Soon the base was feeling more alight with Christmas cheer.

"Thank you so much for your help!" you beamed.

"Anytime. Four hands are better than two," he replied with a wink. 

You blushed and looked out a nearby window, noticing that the snow looked soft and ready to be played with. "Do you wanna build a snowman?" you looked up into Gaz's warm brown eyes, losing yourself for a moment in their amber depths. 

"Sure, that sounds fun. I used to build snowmen all the time with my family back home." 

"Used to?" 

"Yeah," he rubbed the back of his head. "Not so much anymore." 

"Let's amend that!" 

Taking his hand, you led him into the winter wonderland outside. Snow lightly fell around you as you both began rolling up the separate levels of the snowman. Once his body was assembled, Gaz spoke up. "What about his face?" 

Snap! 

The snowman's face came into existence, a corn cob pipe and a button nose, as well as two eyes made out of coal. A scarf wrapped around his neck and atop his head rested a top hat with a pink flower attached to it. 

"Perfect!" you sang. 

The two of you sat back, enjoying the cool winter day. 

Soon, however, even your elf genes couldn't protect you from the chill surrounding you, and you shivered. Gaz seemed to notice this, as he shrugged off his jacket and gently placed it over your shoulders. You were enveloped in his scent, fresh laundry and peppermint. You nuzzled your face into the fabric, inhaling his scent.

Gaz piped up. "So… is there a special elf back home or..?' 

Your heart dropped, your body becoming tense beneath Gaz's ministrations. "Um, no, no I don't!" you squeaked out. "Nope! No special elf for me. Haha… What about you? Is there a special human in your life?"

"Nope! I'm still looking for the right person."

"You seem like someone who has a lot of Christmas cheer," you commented idly.

"Yeah," Gaz replied. "I have a lot of fond memories of opening presents on Christmas day. Santa brought me and my siblings presents every year."

"That's wonderful! The Christmas spirit is strong with you!"

Gaz smiled. "Yeah. So, tell me about the North Pole."

"Oh, the North Pole is a wonderous place filled with joy and laughter," you said, but your words felt hollow. Flashes of the days before you left ran through your mind. You clenched your eyes shut, trying not to think of it. Gaz noticed. He placed his hand on your arm in a gesture of comfort. 

"Hey, you alright?"

"Yes, yes, oh, I'm just homesick is all," you said, a fake smile on your lips. "I miss my granny. I didn't get to say goodbye to her…"

"I'm sorry. I'm sure she misses you, too," Gaz said.

"Yeah. My granny always wanted better things for me. She supported my dreams."

"Your dreams?"

"I wanted to open my own restaurant and bakery in Santa's Village."

"Why couldn't you do that?"

You sighed wistfully. "All elf women work in the toy factories until they are of marrying age. Then, they marry a nice elf man and birth his strong, elf babies. It is our patriotic duty to provide the workforce for the next generation."

"...I see." Gaz cleared his throat and then changed the subject, a mirthful smile on his lips. "So, is it true what they say that the parents are the ones leaving the presents under the tree?"

At his question you felt shock hit you like a snowball to the face. You gasped and felt your cheeks color red. "Absolutely not! That is a load of–of….. pure poppycock! Anyone who says so is a cotton-headed ninny muggins!"

You turned to Gaz, passion blazing through your blood.

"Santa is the one who puts the presents under the tree! Santa is the greatest leader, Santa loves us all! We are all Santa's children, every little child is loved by Santa!" you exclaimed in a firm, impassioned, the merry mantra ingrained in your head from years of training. "Every elf knows that Santa is the most glorious, all-powerful–"

Suddenly your speech was cut off by a pair of lips crashing against yours.

He pulled you against him, lifting you and setting you down in his lap where you felt the evidence of his needy desire for you against your cunt. His hands gripped your thighs, fingers slipping beneath the skirt of your dress and fondling your flesh with tenderness that belied his desire. His caring touch warmed your heart and your core. Once again your body felt alight with need as you felt a growing moisture between your legs. You gasped out his name, a moan ripping from your chest as he grinded up into you. All thoughts of Santa and Granny Elf dispersed like the last vestiges of cookie crumbs on a plate in the sink, washed away by gentle hands, unbridled need rippling through your body as you gave into your lust, pressing down on his hardening manhood. 

"Is this alright?" Gaz asked between kisses.

"Y-yes…" you breathed out, your eyes lidded as you gazed at him through your lashes. 

"Glad to hear it." 

His lips met yours once again in a fiery fit of passion, his tongue darting out to beg you for entrance. You readily opened yourself to him, and he eagerly accepted your invitation, his tongue sliding along yours, causing you to grip his shoulders, your hands fisting into the fabric of his shirt, pulling him closer to you. One of his hands lifted to knot itself into your hair, knocking your elf hat askew. 

❄️

Little did you know, a few meters away, a pair of beady black eyes were watching you intently.

Chapter Text

A voice coming from the entrance of the base startled you and Gaz. You jumped apart, both of you desperately straightening your clothes before the owner of the voice appeared. It was Soap. He sent you a wink before turning to Gaz. 

"Gaz. Been looking everywhere for you. It's time for more drills." 

"Be there in a sec!" 

He got up, dusting off his pants as he spoke. "Sorry, uh.. Gotta go." 

"That's alright, Gaz. I enjoyed our time together."

"M-me, too," he stuttered. "I uh, I hope we can continue it later!" And with that he sped off back towards the entrance of the base. 

For a while you sat there, admiring the winter wonderland surrounding you and thinking of ways to spread Christmas cheer throughout the base. As you finally began to make your way back towards the base, you noticed something odd. 

There, in the snow, was an elf-on-the-shelf. Not just any elf-on-the-shelf, but an elf-on-the-shelf you recognized from the North Pole. Jolly. 

Once he spotted you, he jumped to life, running over to hug your leg. "Long time, no see!" he said in a squeaky voice. 

"Jolly! It's so nice to see you!" You lightly patted his little head. 

"I missed you soooooo much! This much!"

Jolly scrambled back away from you to extend his little arms as far apart as possible. 

"I missed you, too." You frowned, glancing down at the white snow beneath your feet. "I miss everyone."

"Then, why did you leave?" He tilted his head, the little bell on his little Christmas hat jingling with the motion. 

"I had to. I… I couldn't stay there even a day longer." 

❄

You were seated in your family's estate, mama and papa elf sat across from you. 

"It's for your own good, my darling Tinglesticks!" said mama elf. 

"He can give you a life we can never give you. You'll live in a big house and have anything your little elf heart desires. You'll have security for you and your children," papa elf said softly.

"You'll have servants!"

"And your servants will have servants, too!"

Despite the adulation of your parents, you couldn't help but feel sick to your stomach as if you had eaten days old fig pudding, rotten and sour on your tongue.

❄

You shook the memories off, glancing down at Jolly. "What are you doing here, Jolly? Are you here to collect the Christmas lists in the Bonbon Sector?" 

"Yes! That is precisely why I'm here. I also have to monitor the boys and girls for naughty behavior. As an elf-on-the-shelf, it is my duty to perform reconnaissance missions and report back to the boss. But as I was passing by this base, I smelled your strawberry shortcake scent. I followed it and it led me to you! I never expected to see you here."

"Oh, I see…" Elves-on-the-shelves had strong noses as well as infrared vision. "Yes, well, I was sent here on a top-secret mission by Santa himself. No one in the North Pole was supposed to know about it." 

"Oh, that's amazing!" Jolly sang. "I'm surprised Santa would send you on a mission without telling any of his closest allies in the North Pole…" 

"Well, there's a first time for everything," you said nervously, afraid that Jolly was catching onto your lies. 

"Very true," he conceded. 

Quick, think of a distraction! "Why don't you come inside? It's getting chilly out here. I'll make your favorite, syrup spaghetti." 

"That sounds lovely! A classic elf dish!" He gave you a wide smile revealing double rows of pointy, pearly-white teeth.

Picking up Jolly, you set him on your shoulder as you returned to the base. 

❄

Soon, you had prepared a nice plate of syrup spaghetti topped with M&Ms and marshmallows which you and Jolly shared eagerly. You slurped down the saccharine noodles with gusto as Jolly told you about the goings-on around the North Pole since your departure. Soon, the men began to file into the mess hall for lunch. Jolly froze in his speech, becoming inanimate as elves-on-the-shelves tend to do when in the presence of humans. 

A plastic bag was tossed onto the table beside you as Ghost sat down beside you, his wide shoulder brushing against yours, raising goosebumps along your skin.

"Got you something," he said in a gruff voice. 

"Oh!" You placed down your fork and reached into the bag, delighted to find a collection of various toiletries and necessities, all Christmas-themed. "Thank you so much." 

"It's no problem. Thought you could use it since it seems you're going to be staying with us for the time being." 

"Would you like some lunch?" 

Ghost's eyes went wide as he glanced down at your plate and said nothing. 

"It's really good," you urged, "I made it myself. It was my granny's recipe. She makes the best syrup spaghetti. She taught me the secret to make the best spaghetti in the North Pole. Want to know what it is?" 

A slight nod was his reply. 

"Granny Elf told me the best sauce method is to combine maple syrup, brown sugar, granulated sugar, vanilla, and just a dollop of molasses. The nuttyness of the brown sugar combined with strong flavors of maple and molasses add a complexity to the granulated sugar that really elevates this dish."

"...I see," He replied, his eyes moving down to watch as you twirled the spaghetti on your fork. You made sure to pile up as many M&Ms and marshmallows on the fork as possible before soaking the noodles in gooey syrup so Ghost could appreciate the full experience. 

You raised the fork up to his face and gave him a doe-eyed look which he was sure to be unable to resist. Dutifully, he lifted his mask to reveal his plush lips, your eyes glazing over at the sight as you imagined all the fun things you could do to those lips. You lifted the fork closer to him, watching dazedly as he opened for you. You placed the utensil between his lips, biting your own lips as he sealed his lips around it. The sight nearly made you drool as he gazed at you with lidded eyes. 

"What do you think?" 

"Tastes… good." 

You gave him a winning smile and relished in the darkening of his eyes as you ate off the same fork you had just fed him with.  

From the corner of your eyes, you saw Jolly's head turn towards you ever-so-slightly, his little beady eyes watching your every move. 

Soap then approached your table, sitting down beside you and throwing his arm over your shoulder. "Hey, lass!" he sang. "What's this?" He gestured to Jolly.

You introduced Jolly and Soap gave you a joyful smile. "Hey, the boys and I were wondering if you'd join us for a little get together tonight in the common room." 

"Oh, that sounds lovely! I would love that." 

"Glad to hear it! See ya then!" He winked before walking off.

❄

After lunch, you decided to give Jolly a tour of the base. 

"What do you think of the decorations?" you asked proudly in the midst of the tour. 

Jolly nodded approvingly. "Looks great! I can already feel the Christmas cheer!"

"It was difficult at first. But I feel like they've accepted me and are willing to embrace the Christmas spirit they've been lacking lately. I hope I can bring them all closer to Saint Nick."

"If it's you, I'm sure you can do it. You're strong like that. You can do anything you set your mind to!" 

A familiar figure approached from the opposite direction. It was Gaz, and his eyes widened as he noticed you. Your cheeks flushed as you recalled your intimate encounter out in the snow. 

Gaz recalled it as well, his heart rate increasing as soon as he heard the jingle of your elf hat down the hall. He'd never been so forward before in his life, and he considered briefly turning and walking away in the opposite direction, but something inexplicable pulled him towards you. Maybe it was your sweet pepperpint scent making him feel dizzy in your presence, or the way your lashes fluttered when he touched you. It could be your alluring optimism and kindness, or that tempting little elf outfit you wore around the base. 

He couldn't help himself from gazing at you like you were the most delectable-looking peppermint bark. The sight of you alone was mouth-watering. 

"Hello, Gaz!"

"Hi again." He raised an eyebrow at the sight of the little porcelain doll you carried. "Who's this?"

"Oh, this is Jolly. He's an elf-on-the-shelf. I was just going to place him on the fireplace mantle in the common room." 

"I see. Hey, do you maybe wanna hang out sometime, maybe continue where we left off earlier?"

"Oh, sure! I would love that!" 

He gave you a smile which you returned, sweet as sugar. You continued down the hall, your hat jingling all the way. He couldn't help himself; his eyes traveled along your legs, hips, and waist, admiring your alluring physique. As his eyes lingered on your backside, a slight movement caught his eye. His eyes flitted up in time to see the doll's head ever-so-slowly tilt over your shoulder. It appeared to turn its head, seeming to train its beady black eyes on Gaz. A shiver traveled down Gaz's spine. He blinked, and the doll's head was once more facing away from him. Huh, odd. Shrugging, Gaz continued on his way towards the showers, thoughts of you swirling through his brain.

❄️

You made your way through the base, eventually showing Jolly the common room in which there was the perfect location for him to perch and watch over the inhabitants of the base: a nice big fireplace. "It's not much," you commented. "But it'll do." 

"It's perfect!" Jolly sang. "Though, it could use some more Christmas cheer… Maybe a tree!"

"Good idea."

You set him down on the mantle, facing him towards the room so that he could have a front row seat to witness everything that went on in there. 

"Whatcha got there?" 

You turned to find John leaning against the doorway of the common room, a smile gracing his lips and a twinkle in his eye. 

"Oh! Hello, John. This is Jolly. He's an elf-on-the-shelf," you said, gesturing to the now inanimate elf-on-the-shelf. 

"I see. Well, he's a cute little moppet, isn't he?" John grinned as he pretended to pinch Jolly's pink cheek. 

"Yeah, he was one of my closest friends back home." 

John gave you a sad look like that of a kicked puppy. "Were you lonely back in the North Pole?" 

"Well, I had my best friends Jolly, Pom Pom, Gerda. Oh, and Twinky, and a few others, too. We did everything together!"

"Pom Pom? Was she an elf-on-the-shelf, too?"

"No, she was an elf like me! But she moved away from the North Pole to live with her human lover in New York." 

"I see," John said forlornly. "Do you still keep in touch with this Pom Pom?"

"Well, we send each other letters every now and then. Reindeer Mail is fairly fast, after all."

"What about zoom?" 

"Zoom?" 

"Yes, haven't you heard of it?" 

"What's zoom?" 

"Zoom is an application where you can speak face-to-face over the internet with people."

"...Wow… I see… What's the internet?" 

At your question, John got a blank, glazed look in his eyes. Then he smiled. "You have a lot to learn about the human world, love. Come with me, I'll show you what the internet is." 

John led you away to his office, his hand at the small of your back, guiding you down the hallway. Beady little eyes trained themselves on said hand, ever vigilant and watchful.

Chapter Text

Entering his office, you were once more enveloped in a homely warmth. So different from Santa's office, you thought, at least compared to the last time you had seen it. The last time you had been in Santa's office, it had lacked its usual warmth. The fireplace had been filled with burnt coal, the taste of ashes lingering on your tongue. The windows had been left open to allow the arctic breeze to sweep through, blowing out the lanterns lining the walls, leaving the room bathed in darkness. Pages from Santa’s Book blew in the wind, the man behind the desk leveling you with a piercing glare…

John's office was everything Santa's wasn't. His desk appeared to be made from an ancient wood and it was lined in mementos from a life well-lived. He had multiple bookshelves lined with numerous books, the scent of old paper filling the air which you breathed in eagerly. The shelves were also lined with little knick-knacks that told tale of the places John had seen.

"Have you ever been to the North Pole?" you asked as you stood, admiring the items decorating his shelves. John shook his head with a smile.

"No. But I'd love to go."

You returned his smile. "I would love to take you! Oh, it's so wonderful. You should see the Sea of Swirly Twirly Gumdrops at night when the Aurora Borealis is shining bright, reflecting off the water… it's so beautiful."

John's eyes sparkled as you spoke. "I would love that."

The memories of home made you sigh and you looked for something to distract you. You noticed a painting on the wall between two of John's bookshelves. It depicted a farmhouse in the green countryside during a sunset. A woman in a white dress stood on the porch holding one wee babe in her arms and the small hand of a toddler in another. She had a wide smile painting her face and gazed at you, the viewer, as if you were the love of her life.

"What's this?" you asked, glancing back at John who now had a distant look in his eyes.

"It's a pastoral painting," he informed you. "Depicting a romanticized life in the countryside."

"Do you know her?" You pointed to the woman.

John chuckled and shook his head. "No, no, darling, I don't know her. She looks a bit like you, though, hm?"

Looking closer at the woman, you did notice a few similarities. She had your complexion and hair color. But there was one glaring piece missing from her visage.

"Maybe. But she's missing my pointy ears!"

John laughed louder at this, and you returned his chuckle, happiness and pride building inside you at the fact that you could make such a man laugh.

Once his laughter passed, you gestured around you at the office. "Is this the life you want?"

"Hm?"

"The military. Are you happy?"

John looked down at you, a heaviness now present in his deep blue eyes. "I suppose I'm happy… for now."

You smiled, but it didn't reach your eyes.

"Come," he motioned you over to his desk, opening a strange device. "You've seen a laptop, yes?"

You looked at the laptop, watching with fascination as the screen lit up. "Oh, well, yes. I soldered the chips for them. The elves that specialized in assembling the laptops themselves talked about them. But I've never used one before."

"Give me your hand." John held out his hand, and you placed yours in it, allowing him to direct you in the way you wanted. "You put your hand on this device, it's called a 'mouse' and you move it around–see the little cursor moving on the screen?"

John's hand laid over the top of yours where you held the mouse, the calluses of his fingers grazing gently against your skin. As he did so, he leant his hardened chest against your back, enveloping your senses in him, cocooning your body with his warmth, as he used his other hand to point at the screen where the little mouse cursor was moving around. His husky voice sent shivers down your spine as he instructed you on how to use the laptop, and you found yourself losing focus the longer he spoke. His body, pressed so close against you, made you wonder what he was hiding beneath those khakis. Was he as large as Pom Pom had described human men to be? You longed to find out.

John leaned closer to point to something on the screen and you found yourself leaning into him, wiggling your bum, causing him to groan deep in his chest. His hand went to still your movements, his fingers sinking into the soft flesh of your hip. Your eyes fluttered closed at the contact, your mouth falling open at the feel of his partially-hardened manhood digging into your lower back, it was large. Very large.

As John continued to instruct you, you gazed up at him beneath lidded eyes, your lashes fluttering as you said, "You must have a lot of… experience."

"You could say that." He chuckled, the sound emanating from deep in his chest.

Returning your attention to the screen, all thoughts of cursors and the internet fled your mind, and all you could focus on was him. The feel of his budding arousal made your body feel warm. You felt lightheaded, as if you were floating on a cloud of cotton candy. Suddenly you felt his nose ghosting along the tendrils of your hair. “Mm,” he groaned. “You smell like… caramel apple strudel with a hint of vanilla bean and cinnamon spice.”

Turning your head to look at him over your shoulder, you met his heavy-lidded gaze, his blue eyes nearly black with desire for you. His hand came up to hold your chin, guiding your lips closer to his. You could feel his breath ghosting against your face, his lips hovering close to yours. Your eyes closed, your tongue darting out to lick his lips, to taste the sweetness you had been craving ever since you first laid your eyes on him…

BAM!

The office door swung open. You startled and John jumped away from you. Your eyes met Ghost's emotionless gaze.

A beat of silence passed before John cleared his throat and asked, "What's the problem, Ghost?"

"...There's an issue in the latrine, sir." Ghost's voice sent a shiver down your spine.

"Dammit, Soap again, eh?" John sighed. "I'll handle it. Will you take care of this lovely lady, then?"

"Yes, sir."

With that, John left, and you were alone with the mysterious Ghost.

❄️

The two of you walked through the halls of the base, a comfortable silence filling the space between the two of you. As the two of you walked down the hall, you moved closer to him, sizing up his larger form. You imagined his massive back, thick thighs, trim waist, and fat ass beneath his clothes. He was like a dark and gloomy Christmas present you were eager to unwrap.

"I was thinking of making something special for the party tonight," you said, trying to focus your thoughts.

"Oh?" Ghost grunted.

"Yes, would you like to help me?"

"I'm not much of a cook."

"That's alright, all you have to do is keep me company!"

You took hold of his massive hand, leading him down the hall and into the kitchen. Once inside, you immediately got to work, filling a large pot with water, salt, holiday spices, and then finally a ham shank you had found in the back of the fridge. While the meat boiled away, you prepared a festive filling of chopped nuts, crushed candy canes, and grated chocolate shavings you had snapped into existence with your merry mana. Ghost watched your movements as you chatted away about your favorite recipes and your life back home in Santa's Village.

The ham was boiling on the stove and now you were chopping up a garnish to top it off when suddenly the knife slipped and you let out a high-pitched, "Ouchie!" Ghost was at your side immediately, though you hadn't even heard him move from his spot near the door. He wrenched your finger up to examine your wound as you stuttered out, "I-it's nothing!" His eyes assessed the bead of blood that pooled on the tip of your finger before he moved across the room to a cabinet, your eyes following him as he took out a first-aid kit and placed it on the counter beside you.

The next thing you knew, Ghost was lifting you up like you weighed nothing and placing you on the counter, his large hands encircling your waist. You keenly felt the loss of his touch as he reached for the disinfectant and pouted up at him as he soaked a cotton pad in alcohol.

His eyes met yours and you lost yourself in their warm, molasses-brown depths. His movements stilled and he stepped closer to you, filling the space between your open legs. The tips of your breasts ghosted across his hardened torso and you leaned closer, pressing yourself against him, wanting to feel all of him. He grunted, taking your hand in his to assess your wound. "Let me kiss it better," he breathed out.

Before you could ask what he meant, he lifted the bottom of his mask up to expose a set of pink, plush lips. Your mouth opened in a silent gasp as he brought your injured finger up to his lips, pressing a soft kiss against your wound. The contact burned, and you wiggled your legs chasing a friction you didn't realize was building in your core. His tongue darted out to lick the tip of your finger, a whimper escaping you as you grabbed hold of the front of his hoodie. 

DING!

"The ham!" you shouted out, gently pushing Ghost away and jumping down from the countertop.

The bubble of lust burst and normalcy returned to the kitchen as you finished preparing the boiled ham stuffed with chocolate, crushed peppermint, and nuts, topped with an elegant garnish of mint.

You plated the hors d'oeuvres in a traditional elf fashion and stepped back to admire your culinary skill. You looked up at Ghost expectantly, "What do you think? Try some!" you said as you held up one of the stuffed hams.

He lifted his mask and opened his mouth, taking a generous bite. A beat of silence passed during which you looked at him expectantly.

"Erm. It's great, love," he said, and you beamed at him.

"It was Granny Elf's recipe. She liked to synthesize human and elf cuisine, because she had human ancestry! Her grandfather was a man like you! Her grandmother saved him when she found him frozen in the snow after his expedition was lost in the arctic!"

"I see…"

You licked the remaining chocolate from your fingers and noticed his eyes follow the movement. You didn't miss the hunger in his gaze; you knew it wasn't caused by the ham.

"Shall we go?" you asked him.

He grunted in response and followed you out of the kitchen, the boisterous sounds of the party beckoning you both towards the common room.

Chapter Text

You entered the common room to find John, Gaz, and Soap all gathered there. You lifted up the plate of ham and announced, "I brought everyone a delicious Christmas treat!" 

"Oh, smells wonderful," John said, marching over to grab a bite. You watched his face eagerly as he did so, gauging his reaction, and you were astounded to witness a flicker of disgust cross his features. You tilted your head, feeling your heart drop into your feet. 

'Was it… okay?" you asked in a small voice. 

"No, no, no! Uh, it was really good. Here, give me some more!" He grabbed a handful of hams and stuffed them into his face, making an Mmmm noise as he did so. You smiled happily and held out your plate for Soap and Gaz. You stared intently until they reached for some and smiled happily as they gobbled it down. Soap rubbed his belly in contentment, commenting that your cooking could rival his mother's, and Gaz even went back for seconds with tears of joy in his eyes. 

"Wow!" you said, pleased with yourself. Your cooking was always popular back in the North Pole. You wanted to open your very own restaurant and bakery , but your strict parents had forbidden it, stating that you were destined for other, greater things. You always managed to sneak into the kitchens to practice your art however. And now you were happy that you could share it with your new friends. "Since you guys liked it so much, I'll be sure to make this dish again!" 

The boys nodded happily at this and Soap offered you a drink. You sniffed the bottle curiously, turning up your nose at the strong, yeasty odor. "What sort of drink is this?" 

"It's beer! Bottoms up!" Soap said as he drowned his beer in one gulp. 

You sipped at it, allowing the strong flavor to wash over your tongue. You didn't particularly enjoy the flavor, but the warm feeling which settled in your belly reminded you of the spiked sweet drinks common in the North Pole. 

"You guys need more sugar in your diet,” you commented. “It's how little elves grow big and strong, and it's good for the heart." 

As the conversation flowed, the five of you sat gathered on the couches before the fireplace which was lit with a steady flame. "Let's play a game!" Gaz suddenly exclaimed, standing to pour a mysterious amber liquid into five shot glasses. 

"Oh!" You clapped your hands happily. "I love games! We used to play them all the time back in the North Pole. Mr. Penguin and I loved to play hide and seek in the Candy Cane Forest. I was the best seeker out of all the elves in the North Pole." 

A moment of silence passed the group during which Gaz set the drinks on the coffee table before you. "That sounds like fun," Gaz said with a kind smile. "But I was thinking of a different type of game." He sat beside you on the couch, casually draping an arm behind you. 

"What sort of game?" You looked at Gaz curiously.

"What about Never Have I Ever?" Soap piped up from your other side on the couch. 

You opened your mouth slightly in wonder and leaned closer to Gaz. "How do you play that game?"

They explained the rules to you and you nodded in understanding, happy to take in more of their exciting human culture. 

"I'll go first." Soap grabbed a shot glass and held it up. "Never have I ever… bought a pair of Ray Bans." Confidence oozed from his tone as he eyed Gaz with a slight smirk. 

Gaz groaned and said, "Really, mate? Targeting me?" as he downed his shot in one go. 

"What are Ray Bans?" you asked. 

"Gaz's favorite brand of sunglasses," Soap informed you. 

"Oh. I guess I should drink, then." Raising your shot, you threw it back just as Gaz had done. The regret was immediate. The liquid burned as it traveled down your thrat, and you coughed and sputtered, your eye watering as you forced it down. A hand patting your back softly alleviated the pain somewhat and a soothing voice said, "You don't have to down it like that, lass!" Hearty laughter sounded out around you, the men finding your enthusiasm for the game amusing. 

"Just a sip will do, love," John said from a comfy-looking chair perpendicular to the couch. 

Gaz poured you another shot and then spoke. "Never have I ever been to Glasgow." He laughed as Soap groaned. You took a small sip while Soap downed his shot with gusto. 

"You're on, pal!" Soap exclaimed. “Ghost, it’s your turn!”

You turned to face Ghost expectantly, your eyes meeting his as you recalled your encounter in the kitchen earlier, feeling your body get all hot and tingly under his heavy gaze.

"Never have I ever…" Ghost began. "Worn a bucket hat." 

Soap guffawed as John groaned. "It's called a boonie, you git," he grumbled before taking a sip, as well as you and Gaz. You all looked at Soap expectantly. 

"I once stole Price's hat," he explained. "I pulled it off well, if I do say so myself." 

Everyone laughed and even Ghost gave a little chuckle. 

Finally, it was your turn. You had thought long and hard about what to say, and you smiled as you thought of the perfect statement!

"Never have I ever… had the absolute honor of riding in Santa's sleigh!" 

Silence reigned in the common room. You looked at each of the men expectantly, then realized that none of them had done so either. 

"Oh," you said, realization dawning over you like the sun rising over Santa's Kingdom after an age of darkness. "I'm so silly! I'm still getting used to this game, I suppose." You laughed, your face growing warm. 

"It's alright, lass."

You took a small sip of your drink, smacking your lips and sighing wistfully as you spoke. "I really wish I could ride in Santa's sleigh…" 

Price gave you a thoughtful look, his eyes lingering on the rosy color of your cheeks for a moment too long. His lingering gaze didn't go unnoticed by Ghost who spoke up, "Your turn, Captain." 

John sat forward, never taking his eyes off of you. "Never have I ever… Been to the candy cane forest and played hide and seek with Mr. Penguin."

You looked up at him with wide eyes, a smile playing at your lips. He returned your smile and a warm feeling settled deep in your tummy, aided by the alcohol. Something electric passed between you, an unspoken promise of later lingering in his gaze. 

Beside you, Gaz cleared his throat. "Never have I ever shaved my facial hair into mutton chops." 

John gave Gaz an admonishing look and downed his shot. Your mouth watered as his throat bobbed and as he pulled the glass away from his pink lips, remnants of the liquid wetting his beard, the sight lighting a fire in your loins. 

"Never have I ever been fishing," Soap said, shooting Gaz a conspiratorial look as John took another drink.

"Never have I ever smoked Villa Clara's."

John's glare intensified, his blue eyes becoming as icy as the peaks of Yeti Pass.

It was your turn again. You felt the words building in your mind, your tongue ready to let them fly free like cardinals on a snowy winter day. A small voice in your mind told you to hold them back, but the hazy feeling of drunkenness washed over you, causing the words to flow from your lips uninhibited. Looking pointedly down at your drink, you began to speak. 

"Never have I ever… lived on a farm in the English countryside with my husband and kids."

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw John's head swivel towards you. Tentatively, you glanced up at him, giving him a shy look, peering up at him through your fluttering lashes. You bit your lip unconsciously, worry filling you as you anticipated his reaction to your words. Your words which lingered in the common room air like a divine confession, a sacred prayer, a secret only shared between you and John. Would he reciprocate? Or would he reject you, give you the cold shoulder, or worse yet, be disgusted at your audacity? Doubt filled you as you awaited his reaction, the tips of your pointy ears growing warm with embarrassment. 

A moment passed. And then John smiled a warm smile, the motion burning away all the doubt in your mind, your heart was full in that moment and everything melted away like glaciers in the summer due to the changing climate as a result of human pollution. You gripped your glass not even bothering to check if anyone else had drunk before downing the entire shot of liquid. 

This time the burn was pleasant, a warmth spread inside you like a fire igniting something that you could no longer smother. 

You couldn't bear to break his gaze, but you couldn't bear to maintain it either, and so you glanced away. Standing, you went to refill your shot glass when the world around you wobbled. The fire in front of you became blurry as if you were looking through the textured glass windows of Granny Elf's bakery and suddenly the table was quickly rushing up to greet your head as you pitched forward, your legs losing their balance. 

Your descent was halted by a pair of strong arms wrapped around your waist. You were gently pulled up against a hardened chest. "Careful there, lass," said a husky voice as the arms pulled you down with him to sit back on the couch with you seated on his lap. 

You turned in his arms as they pulled you closer. You looked up at Soap with wide eyes, your mouth opening in surprise. You could feel his breath ghosting across your face, making you sigh. His blue eyes sparkled with something familiar, an ember of longing that had almost burnt to ash suddenly burned as bright as the North Star. You fisted your hands in his shirt, trying to pull him closer to you as you readjusted yourself to straddle him, your plush thighs spread open over his muscular ones. His hand came up to anchor your head, gently caressing your cheek with his knuckles. His touch left a fire in its wake, the rough pad of his thumb tracing the contours of your face, eventually coming to stroke along the edge of your bottom lip. Without thinking, you allowed your tongue to draw the digit into your mouth, where you gently sucked on it, swirling your tongue around the tip as you held Soap's heated gaze, watching his blue eyes turn dark and stormy. Soap let out a guttural groan, and his hand moved to grip your hip, sinking into your soft flesh. You let out a moan at his bruising touch, it made you grind your hips down, seeking a sweet friction, a release from the fire burning inside you, hotter than the fire in Santa's palace. He returned the gesture in kind, grinding up into your needy core. You leaned into him, burying your face in his neck, your breath coming out in erratic pants. Another thrust of his hips made you throw back your head, exposing the tender flesh of your neck. You could feel the scratch of his stubble against your skin, it contrasted with the softness of his lips as they traced the pulse point. His lips lingered, feeling the quickening of your heartbeat before he bit down on your flesh, sucking and leaving a mark that would linger but not as long as the desire coursing between you. 

The grinding of your hips against his persisted as you felt a ticklish sensation against your arm – it was gaz kiss arm. His lips lingered on the sensitive skin of your inner wrist, brushing along the delicate flesh there. His kisses were warm and gentle as he left a trail up your arm, following the path of your vein, following the path back to your wildly beating heart, while Soap did the same, his mouth traveling down your jugular and to your collarbone, lower until he reached the neckline of your shirt. Each kiss was a caress, a promise of something more, something passionate. Gaz's eyes burned with hot longing as he glanced up at you, honey brown turned black with desire. You were a long-awaited present on Christmas morning, the men desperate to unwrap you to their eager eyes. A pair of hands lifted your skirt up, tickling along your thighs while another hand made its way between your legs, slipping beneath your candy cane striped thong. 

The roughness of Gaz's fingers against your most delicate parts tore a gasp from your throat, the delicious friction of his calluses against your cunt making you needy for more . 

"She's wet already," Gaz breathed. 

"You ready for us, huh?" Soap asked between kisses along the tops of your heaving breasts. "Tell us, lass, tell us how much you want us." 

"Please!" you pant, your breaths labored. "Please, I want you!" Gaz's fingers worked expertly against your sopping wet pussy, pulling the most depraved sounds from your body as he pushed two long, thick fingers into your waiting heat. His fingers thrust inside you, slow at first, then increasing with speed as your breathing became more erratic. Your hips angled down to meet his hands, urging him closer to the spot you needed him to hit. Soap reached up, his fingers digging into the fabric of your shirt before he ripped it apart at the seams, the fabric falling away revealing your supple breasts to the room. 

"Lord, lass, you've been hiding these from me?" he asked as he took one of your breasts into a hand and palmed it softly, his eyes growing wide at the sight of your pebbling nipple. He looked like he had just reached into the Christmas cookie jar, ravenous for a taste of your Christmas cookie. His mouth descended on your nipple, licking the bud, savoring the sweet flavor of your skin. Each stroke of his tongue made you clench around Gaz's fingers, his assault on your breasts left you breathless. Just when you couldn't take anymore, you felt a gentle grip on your jaw, turning your head. You met Gaz's intense gaz, before his lips brushed against yours. His tongue traced the seam of your lips and you opened for him, desperate for more of his sweet taste. When his tongue met yours you felt an explosion of passion. He explored the depths of your mouth, easily pulling little gasps from you as you continued shifting your hips against his hand. 

With the combined attention from both men, Soap's lips against your chest and Gaz's lips on yours, with his fingers pummeling deeply into your wet heat, you felt yourself sliding closer towards the edge like sledding towards the edge of the Christmas Cliffs near Santa’s Village. 

Gaz's fingers suddenly left you, leaving you feeling bereft. "What–" you began to ask, vexation filling you as you hadn't kringled yet, but his fingers against your lips, the ones that had previously been in your Christmas stocking, gave you pause. 

"Open wide," he commanded. You did so, your lips falling open, allowing him to press his fingers into your mouth. The sweet taste of your icing felt wrong against your tongue but so right . You sucked eagerly at his fingers, when you heard from over your shoulder a deep, reverberating grunt. Glancing to the side, you met John's heated gaze. His face was pinched into a scowl as he suddenly stood and marched to your side, his eyes trained on your lips. He roughly pulled Gaz's hand away from you, a loud POP! sounding throughout the room. 

"That's enough," he said, his voice a threatening growl carrying a threat of warning. He picked you up from beneath your arms, standing you up and straightening your skirt, his eyes pointedly avoiding your chest. Your eyes widened as he reached up to begin unbuttoning his shirt, your mouth watering at the thought of seeing him bare. To your disappointment, he wore a tank top beneath his outer shirt. Still, you couldn't resist reaching up with eager hands, palming against his firm pecs, when he stopped you, a hand gently pulling away your wrist. 

You looked down at the floor, disappointment filling you. A finger against your chin lifted your head to meet his warm eyes.

"Not now, love," he said softly, his tone a far cry from his earlier iciness. "Not while you're like this." 

He draped his shirt around your shoulders, helping you to slip your arms into the sleeves before buttoning it up. It engulfed you but smelled of him. Cigars and vanilla.

"Let's get you to bed now, hm?" 

John gracefully led you out of the common room and down the hall towards your room, his arm around your shoulder, your head swimming with a hazy sense of longing and desire. 

You leaned into John as he walked you back to your room. His warm body enveloped you, his arm wrapped around your shoulders, steadying you. The hallway was empty, the events that transpired in the common room fading away into an alcoholic haze. In that moment, the only thing that mattered was John. You snuck glances up at him, his profile somber and stark, the moonlight kissing the freckles on his face. 

Once you reached the door of your room, you thought he would leave you and you felt a bubble of sadness well up inside you. But to your surprise he ushered you inside, leading you to your bed and tucking you in. Before he could leave, you reached up to grasp the front of his flimsy white tank top, the fabric not nearly thick enough to hide the sculpted form beneath. Your eyes were drawn to the soft smattering of hair peeking above the neckline of his top and your mouth watered. "Please…" you begged, though you didn't know what for.

John gave you a sad look akin to that of a baby polar bear as he gazed down at you. He gripped your hands and pulled them away from himself. "Not tonight, sweetheart. Come find me when you're clear of mind." With that, he leaned down to press a soft kiss to your forehead, the tickle of his beard licking a subdued fire down your spine that faded into a simmering heat as sleepiness overtook you. 

"Goodnight, John," you mumbled sleepily. 

The last thing you saw before visions of sugarplums danced in your head was John's firm backside walking away from you. 

Chapter Text

It was a cold and snowy night and all throughout the base, everyone slept snug in their beds, save for Ghost who laid in bed, bare from the waist down, his hand furiously pumping his cock. 

You were beautiful, your breasts heaving with each stroke of Gaz's fingers within your tight heat, moans of pleasure filling the air and making Ghost feel lightheaded. He was holding onto his control by a thread, how he longed to join the other two in their exploration of you, but he held on. The only indication of his need was the growing bulge in his pants. As he watched your lips part to suck on Gaz's fingers he wished your mouth was parting for him instead, taking his thick digits inside your wet heat. 

Now in the solitude of his own bedroom, he could release his need. His hand gripped his thick cock, pumping slowly and teasingly along the slick shaft. He wished each movement of his hand was yours. He imagined your hand, dwarfed by his massive cock, your skin soft where his was covered in scars and calluses from the many battles he had been in. At this thought, he gasped out your name, unable to hold back. 

He felt his balls tighten as he pictured your face scrunched up in pleasure from the feeling of him entering you, stretching you as he sank into your wet cunt. He wondered what your walls would feel like gripping his manhood as he slowly sank inside you. How he longed to feel your body pinned beneath his, his hips driving wildly into you, his cockhead pummeling against your cervix as you screamed his name, his real name. 

A soft knock at the door broke Ghost out of his fantasy. His eyes shot open and he glanced over in time to see the door creaking open. The subject of his desires entered his room and he found himself breathless. You quietly shut the door behind you, glancing around as your eyes adjusted to the dark. "Ghost?" you breathed out. 

He responded with your name, a husky whisper filled with pent-up desire. He sat up, reaching out an arm for you. When your hand found his, he pulled you onto his lap. Your body fell across him, your thighs spread open over his. You reached up a hand to lift the hem of his balaclava to rest above his nose before you dived down to devour his lips in a kiss. Each movement of your lips echoed the suppressed longing he felt. Seeing you take control while he sat back drove him wild, and he reached up to grab a hold of your hips but his hands froze in the air before they could touch you. He felt that he was unworthy of touching you, unable to touch you now even as you were pressed up against him. 

Your hand reached out to take hold of his, guiding it to your breast. You hissed as you squeezed his hand urging him to touch you and lose himself in the feeling of your body. "Touch me more, Simon," you whispered, your sweet breath ghosting against his lips, "I need you…" 

He couldn't help but obey you. He squeezed, abusing your tender flesh, scratching at your soft skin with his callused hands. He almost felt guilty for defiling you in this way. You deserved better, someone like Price. Someone who would worship you like the elf queen you were, someone who didn't have a bunch of dirty baggage and trauma to weigh you down. 

But, in this moment, none of that mattered. You were with him. You had chosen him, out of all the other men on base. 

"I want you, Simon," you said, pulling away from his kisses to begin pumping his engorged manhood. "Fill me up!" 

"Yes, ma'am." 

Ghost took a hold of his dick, positioning it at your seeping entrance. You sank down onto him taking him to the hilt, the tip of him butting up against your sensitive cervix, making you cry out with your head thrown back. 

"Oh, Simon! Simon, please, don't stop!" 

Ghost began a brutal pace, his hand coming up to grip your hip, pulling you down to meet his brutal thrusts, each slap of his hips against yours sending shockwaves through Ghost's nervous system, his balls slapping against your ass with each shove of his cock into your aching hole. 

"It's only you, Simon. Not Gaz, not Soap, not even Price. Only you can make me feel this way, only you can have me in this way." Your words sent liquid fire down Ghost's spine, his balls clenching tight at the desperation in your voice. "Fill me up, Simon, I need you to come inside me. I want to make you a father." 

Ghost only moaned in reply, unable to formulate words, your pussy completely draining him of thoughts. The only thing on his mind was pleasure. 

"I love you!" you gasped out, and Ghost saw white. He clenched his eyes shut, riding the brutal wave of orgasm rocketing through his body, his seed shooting out in hefty white, hot spurts. 

When he opened his eyes, you were gone. All he was left with was an empty sense of longing tinged with regret, a distant dream of you, and a cum-stained hand. 

Ghost's breath slowly returned to normal as he laid frozen in place, the vision of you slowly disappearing, the feeling of your tightness around his cock slowly replaced with a feeling of disgust at himself for defiling you in such a way. You, the most kind and gentle creature he'd ever known, like a delicate bird or fawn. And he, the deplorable beast who desired you in the most carnal way. 

And why would you ever want him, anyways? When the other men could provide for you better, could fulfill your needs and desires better. He couldn't even stand the thought of you seeing the monster beneath the mask, how could he ever think you'd accept him, scars and all, when Gaz, Soap, and Price were so much better? 

He was horrible, disgusting, deplorable, hideous, scarred, damaged, stained. You'd never want him. His touch would only taint you. You didn't deserve the likes of him. You deserved better. You deserved someone like–

A sudden scratching noise at the window alerted Ghost, and he sat up in alarm. The scratching was faint, and sounded more like a slow scrape across the surface of the glass. Ghost's brows pinched in confusion. He stood from his bed, pulling his sweats on as he approached the window when the noise abruptly ceased. 

Pulling back the curtain, Ghost was alarmed to find a simple phrase etched into the glass.

STAY AWAY

Chapter Text

The next day, you woke up bright and early, the space between your legs sticky with remnants of your stilted desire. Fragments of the night before floated through your conscience, a painful ache growing between your legs as you thought of Gaz, Soap, and most importantly, John. His scent surrounded you, cigar smoke and cedar wood. You breathed deeply, allowing him to fill your lungs as his words echoed in your mind. Come find me when you're clear of mind. You sat up, eager to take him up on his offer. You forewent getting dressed this morning, instead opting to wear John's shirt with a lacy pair of panties, hoping your choice in attire would entice him to have his way with you. 

You made your way to John's office. Knocking softly, you waited for him to yell, "Enter!" from the other side before you opened the door. 

John glanced up upon your entrance, his eyes lingering on your bare legs, his gaze traveling up, lingering briefly on the shirt, his shirt, desire alighting in the blue depths of his eyes. He placed down his pen as you fully entered his office. "Good morning. What brings you here?" He steepled his fingers together, leaning back in his chair as he gave you a warm smile.

You settled for honesty. Something about him made you want to bare your soul to him. "I wanted to see you."

He got that twinkle in his eye as he gestured to a chair across from his desk. "Well, take a seat." You sat eagerly, the shirt riding up on your bare thighs. You relished in the bobbing of his Adam's apple, and the struggle you witnessed in his eyes to not look down at your now-exposed lacy panties. 

"What are you working on?" you questioned.

"Tactical battle analyses," he said. "Boring stuff. But I'm sure you didn't come here just to talk about that." He gave you a heated look, reaching over his desk to grab a cigar. He lit it up, placing it between his lips which you eyed eagerly. 

"No, I didn't…" you breathed, watching as the smoke from his cigar began to waft about, the heady scent reaching your nose and making you feel dizzy. 

"You must be bored, on a military base with nothing to do. Do you like to read?" 

"Oh, yes! I used to read all the time back home in the North Pole."

John gestured to a wide bookcase lining the sidewall of his office. "Well, take your pick then. I've got all kinds of books. From Dostoyevsky to Clancy and everything in between." 

You stood and made your way over to the bookcase, running your fingers along the spines of the well-used books. You made sure to bend over to pick out a tome, giving John a eyeful of your lacy-covered nethers. Utterly uncaring of the title, you returned to your seat to read. Glancing over towards John, you noticed his cheeks colored with a faint dusting of pink. He cleared his throat and picked up his pen once more to continue working as you began to read. The story entranced you for a time before you happened to glance up and notice the sunlight streaming in through the window behind John. The light illuminated his figure, making his brown hair shine like beaten gold. It softened his features and somehow made him look otherworldly. Glorious, like a golden angel atop a Christmas tree. You were torn from your thoughts when you heard him place his pen down again. His eyes were trained on you once more, something heavy lingering in their depths. You felt your cheeks become warm and a tingle went down your spine. 

Without thinking, you stood, setting your book down on your chair before making your way over to his side. He pushed his chair away from his desk to make room for you, and you sat down in his lap, taking your seat as if you were a queen and he was your throne. You wrapped one arm around his neck and placed the other on his chest, feeling the hardened muscles beneath your palm. The sound of creaking leather echoed through the room from where his hands tightened on the armrests of the chair. You wanted those big, powerful hands on you. You craved the touch of his skin against yours, a nearness that you knew would be as delicious as the sweetest candied yams. You had craved it since you had first stepped foot into his office, since you first saw him, the man who fulfilled every single one of the fantasies Pom Pom had implanted in your head. 

You leaned closer to him, letting his smoky scent surround you, the smell of tobacco making you feel bold. "I'm clear of mind, Captain," you whispered huskily into his ear, echoing his words from the night before. His eyes widened incrementally, recognition flickering in their depths. “Will you take what’s yours?" 

Then his hands were finally on you, gripping your waist and pulling you flush against him.

He rushed to capture your lips with his. You gasped at the contact, your brain short-circuiting as he hungrily devoured your mouth with his tongue, coaxing yours into a frenzied battle to which you surrendered easily, letting him take control. Trailing your hands up his button-up shirt, you undid the top few buttons in order to feel his flesh against yours. You gently scratched your nails through the light smattering of hair on his chest, feeling his groan reverberate through you at the feeling.

He pulled you even closer against him, his hands roaming down your body to rest on your thighs. Testing the waters, you decided to softly dip your hips into his. He gasped into the wet heat of your mouth as he dug his fingers into your thighs, bruises sure to be left in his ferocious wake. Guided by his strong touch, you began to grind against him, feeling his arousal grow beneath you. His thumbs rubbed circles eagerly along your exposed flesh, the tender touch in stark contrast to his strong grip. 

His touch felt electric, each stroke of his fingers sending waves of euphoria crashing through you. You moaned into his mouth as his hands traveled closer to where you wanted them most, lifting the hem of your shirt up and up…

A light pitter-patter across the floor of John's office distracted you, and you turned your head toward the noise, looking behind you to find the source but all mental clarity fell to the wayside at the touch of a hand against your cheek. His touch guided you back to him, his thumb caressing your bottom lip. 

"Focus on me, love," he said before his lips took yours once more. 

The way he kissed you made the little office melt away, the whole world outside the two of you forgotten as your body burned with need for him. 

"You've been teasing me, haven't you?" he asked against your lips, his breath ghosting along your flesh. He trailed kisses down your jaw and neck, nipping slightly at your skin causing you to gasp. "Wearing my shirt, with these on underneath?" His fingers traced up your thighs and to the outer edge of your panties and your pulse quickened at the thought of those big fingers inside you, spreading you open. The thought, combined with his husky voice caused your cunt to involuntarily clench around nothing.  

"Christmas came early for you," you sighed, gripping the strands of his dark hair between your fingers if only to keep him close to you forever and ever. He chuckled and you glanced down, seeing the growing need between his legs. Your eyes grew as wide as saucers as you took in the size of him. The many exciting stories Pom Pom told you of human men came to mind, their extraordinary endowments, the skilled way they brought pleasure to their partner… Elf men just couldn't compare, with their small stature and lack of skill in the bedroom. 

"Might as well unwrap my present now then, hm?" 

"As long as I get to unwrap mine, too."  

John grinned at this. "It's only fair." 

Reaching a hand down towards his belt, you quickly undid the clasp as well as the button and zipper of his khakis. His breath stuttered as you reached into the opening, and you relished the fluttering of his eyelashes as your palm came into contact with his heated flesh. 

He leaned towards you, mouth open and wanting for you but he could only let out stuttered gasps as you traced a finger over the silky head of him. His lidded eyes made you feel feral, your mouth watering at the thought that it was you who brought such a look of ardor to his features. 

His skin was hot as you gripped him in your hand. You admired the size of his cock in your smaller hand. The girth of it cock made you feel lightheaded and you knew the feeling of him stretching you open would make you scream. It was hard to hide your excitement. You glanced up at John as you gave his cock a slow pump, watching as his eyes became glazed over with desire. Something changed in the air around you, the atmosphere suddenly feeling charged with a burning sense of desire. 

John promptly lifted you up, his hands secure around your waist, and stood up to place you on his desk, uncaring of the clutter littering the surface. The papers beneath you were crumpled in his haste to have more access to your body. You squeaked as his hands came up to your chest, taking hold of the fabric of his shirt before ripping it open in one fluid motion, sending the buttons flying. You squeaked at the motion, allowing the sleeves to fall fully from your body, completely exposing your chest to his burning gaze. He exhaled heavily as he took in the curve of your breasts, the slope of your waist, the fullness of your hips. Your cunt fluttered and wetness pooled in your panties as he groaned deep in his chest, the sight of you splayed out for the taking on his desk making him impossibly harder. "You're beautiful, love…" he breathed out. "Wanted you since I saw you." 

You moaned at the tickle of his beard against your neck as he began marking you once more. "I need you," you breathed into his ear, your hot breath against his skin causing him to shiver. 

He tugged your panties off next, gentle hands contrasting with his earlier roughness, but you thought nothing of it as he continued kissing his way along the gentle slope of your neck. 

Soon, the moment you had been awaiting since leaving the North Pole arrived. 

You leaned back onto your hands as he gripped his cock and aligned himself with your entrance. Watching fascinated as he positioned himself, you found yourself unable to look away from the sight of his rigid manhood. You couldn't wait to feel the stretch of him inside you. 

Two fingers crooked your chin up, bringing your gaze to meet his. "Look at me." His voice was gruff and commanding. 

"Yes, Captain…" You felt the tip of him teasing your folds, the anticipation of the moment made your head delirious with want. Each second felt like hours and you whined, "Please…" 

In one thrust he filled you to the brim, his cock bottoming out inside you. Your head fell back and you saw stars, the ceiling lights in John's office twinkling like the lights on the Great Christmas Tree in the main square of Santa's Village. A sharp tug brought you back to earth, John's hand fisted in your hair forcing you to meet his gaze again. "I want to look you in the eyes as you come undone on my cock." 

With those words hanging in the air, he set a brutal pace, each thrust sending shockwaves through your body and left you screaming his name. Beneath you, the desk creaked with each rough shove of John's hips against yours. Items on his desk fell over, pens falling to the floor, papers beneath your body becoming crumpled and torn, but John didn't care. A framed photo fell over, the sound of glass cracking drowned out by your joint cries. He was very vocal, stuttered breaths leaving him unbidden, little moans escaping from the back of his throat as he eyed you beneath hooded lids. 

You reached out for him, wrapping your arms around his neck, keeping your eyes on his the whole time. "I want," you gasped out, his cock reaching places inside you you didn't know existed. "I want…" 

"What do you want? Tell me."

"The painting! I want that, with you, one day."

John's movements stilled. You blinked up at him, wondering if you'd said the wrong thing, worry filling your heart as you awaited his response. 

"The… painting..?"

You nodded meekly. 

"That sounds... perfect," Price sighed as he caressed your body, his hands pawing at your soft skin as he began to slowly move his hips once more with light, teasing motions. 

"It does?"

"Yes, princess." He looked you in the eye, his gaze gentle and loving. "Starting a family with you would be a dream come true." 

Your words had a calming effect on him, easing his stress and worry. You could feel his tension and anxiety fade away in your arms, replaced by a sense of peace and contentment.

"We could start right now," Price said with a shy smile. "We don't have to wait."

"I want that, please!" You gasped as his thrusts became more powerful, seeming to reach deeper inside you than before. 

The intensity within his gaze brought you a different sort of pleasure, something deeper than just physical enjoyment. The word for the feeling was on the tip of your tongue, but John reached down to hike up your leg even higher on his waist, spreading you wider for him, and the thought was gone in a haze of lust. 

You had never felt so full, no other elf's cock could reach the depths John's could within you, could never bring you this much mind-numbing pleasure. You felt light-headed as you gazed into his blue eyes, the color of a rageful ocean, your body acting of its own accord as your hips began to lift in time to meet each of his thrusts. 

"You like that, huh? You feel so good on my cock." His voice was breathy as he grunted the words out. 

You brought your hands up to clutch his broad shoulders as you felt a wave of ecstasy begin to rise up within your core, his husky words heightening your pleasure. His thrusts became erratic and he reached a hand down to where you were joined. He massaged your clit, urging you closer to the edge. 

"Come with me, love. Want to fill you–" He cut himself off with a breathless grunt, the feeling of your walls tightening around him causing his chin to fall to his chest, his eyes glued to where his cock disappeared inside you. 

Glancing back up at you, he gazed into your eyes, his hips stuttering as he pounded into you. A choked moan of your name was your undoing. You felt your cunt spasm around him as he continued to thrust through your orgasm. He soon followed you, releasing his thick cum within your elven walls in great hefty spurts. He stayed buried within you, his chest rising and falling heavily with his forehead resting against yours. You ran your hands along his scruffy cheeks as you both recovered from your joint high. 

"Was that good..?" he asked, almost shyly. 

"It was amazing," you whispered into the space between you. "I've never felt so good during sex before." 

He placed a kiss on your forehead before bringing his lips to yours–

Crunch!

John roared. You squeaked as he suddenly jumped away from you, his dick sliding out of you completely as he jumped up and down, clutching his calf as if something had bitten him. 

You looked down at the floor in time to see a dark shape scurrying across the floor and out the crack of his office door. Your brows pinched in confusion. Turning back to John, you asked, "Are you okay?" Standing up, you went to check his injury, but your knees felt like jelly and your legs buckled out from underneath you sending you careening towards the floor. 

But John's hand steadied you. He swept you off the floor and placed you back down on the desk, his fingers dipping between your thighs. You twitched involuntarily at the contact, feeling another wave of desire course through your veins at his touch and the way his eyes watched you intently. You gasped, your fingers wrapping around his thick forearm as he brushed over your slick folds before gathering up the seed dripping from you and pushing it back inside. 

"Can't waste a drop," he whispered, blue eyes glinting darkly. Once he pushed it as deep inside you as possible, he reached over you to grab a wad of tissues before gently wiping at your entrance, cleaning you of the remains of your joint mixture. You wanted him again, and again, in every possible way. He must've seen your need reflected in your eyes because he said, "Later, love," as he pulled you briefly to him and placed another kiss on your brow. 

"Quite the mess we made, huh?" you joked, looking around at John's destroyed office. Glass from the smashed photo and pens from a knocked over pen cup littered the desk, papers and folders strewn about, even his desk name plate which designated him as Capt. John Price had been knocked to the floor in his haste to have you. 

And have you, he did, if the soreness between your thighs was any indication. You felt a giddiness build up inside you at the thought that you'd finally done it, you'd had sex with a human man, and it had been better than your wildest fantasies. You couldn't wait to tell Pom Pom about this. 

John laughed and, in one smooth motion, had removed his shirt and was placing it around your shoulders, echoing his actions from the night before. 

"Can't have you getting cold, now can we?" 

“Not that I mind, but if you keep giving me all your clothes, soon you won’t have any left,” you chirped, causing John to grin shyly. 

You gazed up at him with warmth. This man had been your first human experience, and the first time you had achieved orgasm with another being, period. You wouldn't have it any other way. There was something about him that made you feel safe and protected, like he would take care of you. It was a feeling you hadn't ever felt before, not even back home, not even with…

You shook off the thought, biting your lip and glancing away from John's intense gaze. 

As you regained the feeling in your legs, you shakily stood when John suddenly stooped down to grab your ruined panties. He stuffed them into his pocket. Raising an eyebrow at this, you decided not to question it as you snapped your fingers, manifesting a pair of tight, bright green leggings. You probably looked ridiculous, as the leggings contrasted greatly against John's dark blue button-up, but oh well. 

"Thank you," you said. 

John went to respond, but a knock at his office door interrupted him. The door creaked open and you turned to find Gaz standing there, a dirty-looking toothbrush clutched in his hand as he eyes flitted between you and John, his mouth agape as he took in the disheveled state of the both of you. 

"What is it, Gaz?" John asked casually, sitting back in his office chair as if nothing had happened, as if he hadn't just fucked your brains out on his office desk. As if his office wasn't littered with evidence of your fierce and intense coupling. 

"Uh, I just wanted to let you know that Soap and I finished cleaning the latrine. It's spick-and-span, just like you wanted."

"Good, now I want you to run another twenty-five laps around the track."

"Another?!" Gaz asked incredulously. "Captain, we already ran–" 

A fierce blue gaze was enough to shut Gaz up. The younger man gulped, his eyes flitting to you briefly. 

"Yes, sir."

Gaz gave you a sad look like a kicked seal pup before turning to leave. 

You turned to John. "Why are you making them do all that?"

"Oh, it's nothing you need to concern yourself with, love. Just making sure the boys know their place." 

"I see…"

"Listen, I would give anything to spend the rest of the day chatting it up with you. But I've got a lot of work to catch up on." He gestured to the paperwork littering his floor. 

"Oh!" you sang. "That's alright. I was thinking I should get started on tonight's dinner. I was thinking we could have dinner, all of us, together."

"That would be nice," John replied. 

You stood and headed towards the door. "I'll leave you to it. Oh, here." You snapped your fingers, the destroyed items in John's office righting themselves. "I'll see you tonight."

With that, you left John's office, the feeling of his heated gaze burning along your back, making your nethers tingle as you did so. 

A noise from down the hall averted you from your path to the kitchen. A furious FWOP, FWOP FWOP! graced your ears, like snowballs hitting the trunk of a tree. You followed the sound and found yourself in a place you recognized. You'd seen such places before in the magazines that washed ashore in the North Pole, mingled with plastic bottles and other garbage that had floated over from the human realm. 

You had been a collector of such images, the wall of your bedroom back home in your family's estate decorated with cut-out images of human men with hulking muscles, their toned bodies lined with sweat as they showed off their alluring physiques. Lots of those images were set in a similar place to this. A gymnasium. 

Your eyes were drawn to a similarly-toned form across the room, his bare back to you, his muscles rippling with each punch he landed against a poor, helpless punching bag. His ceaseless strikes were filled with fury, each hit rattling the chain holding the bag, each deafening boom sending shockwaves through your body.

Standing frozen at the entrance, you were so utterly entranced by the way he moved his body that you hardly noticed as he turned to face you. You recognized instantly the mask adorning his face, two black eyes gazing at you with intensity as he heaved for air. 

"What do you want?" he asked, the flippant tone of his voice making you tilt your head at him in confusion. 

"I was just headed towards the kitchen when I heard you," you replied evenly. Taking a breath, you decided to let his rudeness slide as you asked, "Would you like to join me? I was thinking of making dinner for everyone to enjoy tonight!"

Ghost scoffed. "I don't want anymore of your bloody disgusting food. It's utter shite. Bloody diarrhea-inducing." He muttered the last part, but every word out of his mouth hit you like a stampede of reindeer trampling over your heart. You felt the pain as if he had struck you with a punch instead of the punching bag. All you could do was turn away, trying to keep him from seeing the tears forming in your eyes. You ran from the gym, holding in your sobs until you were sure you were far enough away that he wouldn't hear them. 

Inside your chest, your heart broke into little pieces as Ghost's words played on repeat in your head. 

You'd always be alone. It was your fate.