#poly141

You wake up so hard, and sweating. Sheets clinging to your much larger body as you grind your new cock into the mattress. Whines so much deeper as you bury your face into the pillow.

How on earth could Johnny live like this. He was hot all the time. It was nice to cuddle with in the winter, but now you're sweltering in the summer heat. And he's so horny. No wonder he's always having to duck away to deal with a surprise boner. The wind will change direction and suddenly your chubbing up in jeans that feel far too tight for a man with so many muscles.

After you deal with your morning wood, once in bed and then again in the shower, you rush off to find Johnny. Or find you to be exact. Flushing when Kyle smiles at you and you feel all the blood rush south. Price claps a hand on your shoulder as you pass and you have to bite your lip close to bleeding to stop a moan. Ghost is the worst though.

He corners you against the wall with narrow eyes. Immediately catching that something is wrong. He scans your face carefully. Aware of every subtle shift and twitch. Then he reaches down, cupping 'your' cock and squeezing hard. Your knees buckle as you groan. Eyes rolling back into your head. It feels so damn good. You're so sensitive. The curses that spill from your lips come out much deeper, and also much needier, than you've ever sounded in your life.

You hear Ghost hum. Nosing against your neck as he palms your cock through your jeans. Grinning below the mask when you cum horribly fast.

"Fuckin'... fuckin' hell sir."

Your head knocks back against the wall. Eyes watering slightly from the overwhelming rush of pleasure. Then you cringe at the sudden sticky feeling. Appalled to realise that you actually loved the soaked fabric rubbing against your softening cock. If you didn't hurry you'd never find your own body.

"Knew it was you. Found Johnny in your room."

He didn't elaborate further, but you could hear the smug grin in his voice. You rushed away. Dreading whatever Johnny was doing with your body.

The bastard had propped your mirror up against the wall. Watching as he curled four fingers deep inside the body he was hijacking. More than you could usually handle. And by the looks of it he was going for a fifth. When he heard you enter he glanced up with a grin. It was eerie seeing your own smiling face.

"Christ, hen. This things amazing! Why don't you do this all the time?"

You scowled, pinning his, your, hands so he would focus.

"Because I'm not a bloody deviant like you."

"Delete it."

"Why?"

"Cos I fockin' said so."

You cock an amused brow at him as you look up from the embarrassingly cute photo of the skull-masked behemoth fast sleep and cuddling your Hello Kitty plushie. "Cos y'fockin' said so?" You mock his gravelly Manchester accent and it sends Johnny and Kyle into a fit of giggles. And even Price is chuffed by it. It's contagious really.

However, the sleeping drugs he was prescribed for his trauma-induced insomnia combined with the seasonal depression means that Simon very effectively sleeps his way through the worst time of the year.

It’s been years since Simon’s been awake for Christmas and he has no plans of starting now.

Of course, it has to be this year, of all years, that shit goes sideways. Not a mission- the few times missions have fallen on the holiday, he’s made his way through, perhaps even better than he does otherwise.

No, instead, a pipe burst in his run down apartment. And he has to spend the holiday on base, with the rest of the 141.

Price practically never goes home, only keeps a small home for if one of his boys has to take medical leave off base. Gaz hasn’t got a home outside of base, having joined the military straight out of a halfway-home. And Johnny refuses to return to his parent’s home for some reason he refuses to talk about.

So of course, they will all be on base for the holidays. And Ghost is near guaranteed to be left alone. Logically, realistically, he cannot sleep through the day like he usually does.

But the dawn breaks, and Ghost wakes. And Simon can’t stand the voices that seep in, the faint smell of smoke wafting through his room, the phantom shapes in his peripherals.

So he take the drugs. Just one pill, half his usual dose in the hopes that he’d wake if he needed to. But it’s enough to get him to a doze, half buried in the sticky hole of sleep.

He’s not sure how long he spends like that, drifting along the rough swells of his memories, before a knock on his door reaches through the fog.

Gaz’s voice. Something about breakfast, not that Simon listens too hard. A pause that seems to stretch, then Gaz’s voice again, questioning, concerned.

Simon can’t bring himself to move as the door creaks open.

He hears Gaz’s footsteps, hesitant as he catches sight of Simon’s bulk slumped into the mattress. Hears his voice, concern heavy. Feels a gentle hand upon his shoulder. Gaz’s face enters his vision briefly, his face pulled into an expression Simon is too tired to read. Gaz pulls away slowly, hand rubbing gently over Simon’s shoulder one last time, before quickly exiting Simon’s room.

Simon drifts again.

It can’t be that long after that Simon wakes to Gaz back in his room, Price and Johnny with him this time. Gaz is looking over his meds, left on his bedside table. Price and Johnny are trying to catch Simon’s attention it seems. They all look so concerned.

Gaz calls the others attention, shows Price and Johnny the bottle. It was a new one, Simon remembers blearily, only one taken out of it. Gaz seems to have realized that as well. Is telling Price and Johnny about it, about how’s there’s no evidence of any other meds.

The relief on their faces should not be as startling as it is.

Simon starts drifting again. He can feel things moving around him, can feel himself being moved. But he’s sleepy enough not to care, knowing Price and Johnny and Gaz won’t hurt him.

He sleeps for a while. Waking up occasionally. The others seem to have moved into his room. Johnny stays nestled against his side, occasionally moving to get Simon to drink some water. Gaz is on his other side, on a chair at his bedside, showing Johnny videos on his phone, tilted just enough that Simon can see too. And Price is far away either, having set himself up at Simon’s desk, seemingly going over paperwork and occasionally making a comment on Gaz and Johnny’s videos.

As the day goes on Simon spends less time asleep, more time awake. Until after dinner he’s fully awake, as much as he’d rather not be.

Simon braces himself for the anger, the accusations he’s knows are coming. Slouches down even further into the mattress, though he just ends up tucked further into Johnny’s side.

He can barely look at any of them, as the air in the room changes, grows strained.

Price clears his throat. Simon braces himself.

But instead of yelling, instead of anger or disappointment or disdain, it’s calm.

Price says, next time, come to us. Says, next time, we’ll be with you. Next time, you won’t have to do this alone.

And Simon believes him. Believes them, when Gaz smiles as Simon’s eyes fall on him, as Johnny’s arm squeezes around his shoulders.

The four of them settle there, packed together in Simon’s bed.

Next year, as the holidays draw near, Simon still sees shadows. Hears voices. Smells smoke.

Reader who is Prices absolute nightmare, They have Soap's energy with Ghost's disposition.

Reader who's laughs on field missions gives people a sickening pit in the stomach, not knowing how close they are stalking by.

Gaz who uses reader as a snack disposal for leftovers he'd never eat, this become symbiotic as the reader refuses to buy snacks and this habit soon gets adopted by Soap.

Ghost who see's reader as a more feral version of soap, and embracing it for the better especially during sparring.

Reader who prefers quick ambush attacks, trying to pinpoint Simon's next step. Only to get overwhelmed due to his stature, a human wall as they fail to knock him down.

Price hears it before he see's it, a crisp thud as they make contact with the ground.

Simon's hands were held up as he backs off, He wasn't stupid when he heard a growl growing from your lip

You wanted to rip him apart, and the only thing keeping you from that is how Price's eyes are locked on you.

... Anon, were you inside of my head? Did you KNOW MY PLAN!? I was considering making König a whale shark mer, but yeees big remora König YES Part 1

"This is... certainly most unusual." the blonde woman commented slowly, her eyes glued to your form as you sat quietly on the giant’s lap.

They had you inside their massive black van now, seated on plush seats in the back while someone named Laswell analyzed you. Despite their attempts to rock you to sleep, anxiety and nerves had left you frozen in König’s arms the entire time as you waited for the car to arrive.

And this woman was freaking scary!

They all were, of course, but you had thought that another girl would make you feel more at ease.

THAT WAS NOT THE CASE.

She wasn’t particularly tall for a vampire, but she was still easily bigger than any human woman you had ever met. Her eyes were red, like any other vampire’s, though hers were much lighter—muted. She was blonde, her hair tied in a low bun adorned with red and black jewels.

And you were pretty sure they were real jewels, considering she was also dressed to the nines. While the other two wore more military/action-heavy clothing—despite their outfits also looking very expensive—this woman was dressed in a snug black suit. No tie, but more importantly, no undershirt. Just a blazer that left a bit of her cleavage exposed.

It made you blush a bit when you realized what you were seeing.

She also just looked imposing, one hand against her mouth as she stared down at you on König's lap with intelligent eyes.

"She refuses to sleep or relax." König muttered in that heavy, low voice of his, making you try to look up at his covered face once again.

He didn’t seem to mind your movement or curiosity—only making sure that you remained seated on his lap and didn’t attempt to run.

“I have never seen a fledgling like this.” Horangi hissed under his breath, his voice taut with unease. He crossed his arms firmly over his chest, standing beside Laswell. “Who would be foolish enough to mistreat a fledgling here? This is our territory. Who would dare?”

“I have never seen such a vicious turning bite…” Laswell murmured slowly, lowering herself slightly to take your face in her grasp. Her long nails tapped lightly against your skin as she tilted your head upward, exposing more of your neck. “This will be taken to tribunal. A crime of this nature is not merely an offense—it is an abomination.”

The way her face scrunched up in genuine disturbance made you realize that this situation might be more serious than you had first anticipated.

König’s hand rose to your neck, his grip gentle yet firm as he held your head in place, keeping your throat exposed. His other hand moved to the buttons of your polo shirt, undoing them one by one to widen the opening, revealing more of the strange, crack-like marks on your skin.

“...It was a method of torture, in old Europe.” König murmured, his voice thick with his accent as he examined the bite himself. Where the teeth had torn through flesh, the marks spread in jagged streaks, making it impossible to tell where the bite had first landed. “Vampires’ venom would be harvested from their enemies and injected into humans—forcing a fledgling transformation within the depths of torture chambers.”

“Right. But that’s what puzzles me—the sire.” Laswell drawled slowly, her eyes narrowing in thought and quiet disdain as her fingers continued to trace your damaged skin with unsettling gentleness. “It is instinctual for a sire to care for their fledgling… yet it is clear this was not done with a mere syringe. These marks—this wound—suggest it was inflicted by the sire themselves.”

"Ah...!" You flinched slightly as her finger brushed over a particularly sore spot, but you couldn’t pull away, not with König still holding your head in place.

The woman immediately withdrew her hand, crossing her arms neatly as she examined you for a few moments longer.

"She's conscious enough to feel this?"

“Surprisingly, yes, she seems to be.” Horangi replied, kneeling to meet your eyes, his right hand coming up to rest lightly on your lap. “I can’t even fathom how, but I’m almost certain she’s somewhat coherent.”

“Coherent." Laswell repeated, her brow raised—not questioning, but emphasizing.

“She is speaking. We asked her about her sire, and she didn’t know how to answer. I’m not sure if it’s the usual confusion from young fledglings who’ve just been turned, or if she truly doesn’t understand what it means, but she was able to comprehend us enough to answer verbally.”

That made Laswell let out a short bark of laughter, utterly flabbergasted. The surprised look on her face only made you feel even more unsettled.

“No, it’s the last option.... I don’t know what a ‘Sire’ is...!” you protested weakly, your small hands coming up to try and pry König’s grip from your neck.

Your first coherent phrase since they took you caused all three of their heads to snap toward you, their eyes drilling into your still annoyed and frightened expression.

“What...?” The blond woman stared at you, her face showing the most surprise it could muster. “She... is she actually sound of mind right now?”

"Yes...? I mean, I don’t see why I wouldn’t be, it’s just—goddammit, let go!" You cut yourself off, whining in frustration up at König as you struggled to make him move his hand from your neck. He hesitated for a moment but eventually relented. "Thank you..."

"She's actually coherent... has it ever happened with a fledgling so young?" Horangi mumbled in silent shock, still kneeling beside you. Even with the partial mask and glasses, you could see the frown on his face.

"It doesn’t matter. We’re taking her to the Coven right now." Laswell shook her head, speaking quickly as she climbed into the front seat of the van, starting the vehicle. "We need to get her to the rehabilitation center as soon as possible. I’m afraid her transformation is going wrong."

"I-I don't think-"

You are interrupted as you let out a loud cry, Horangi's hand pressing just slightly over the markings on your shoulder.

"She's pumped full of venom, this is almost... unnatural...." He hisses slightly, expression furrowing in uneseaness. "She was supposed to be out cold at least for two weeks straight, four at most."

"C-Can you stop touching it...??" You whine a bit in pain, shoving his hand away with your much smaller one. "This hurts..."

He stares back at your face for a bit, still seemingly unsure about your conciousness, but he nods once and sits back on his calves, staring at you with a focus that made you squirm in place.

"Fledgling." The heavy voice above you made you look up at König, frowning a bit. "Here, follow my hand."

You could only frown more as he put his hand in front of you, snapping his fingers to call your attention. You stared at it, unsure, watching it go up and down, side to side, all the while snapping. It made you feel like a dog, but you could actually feel your slow reaction time on this.

"She's very cognitive for a just-turned, but for normal paramitres, she's having a slow reaction time." Horangi commented, still watching you closely as you tried to keep up with König's hand.

"Ask her questions, let's see how coherent she is. Even if I don't like it, there's must be answers we can get from this." Laswell commented from the front of the van, speeding up at bit too much for it to be safe.

Not that any of them seemed to care about road safety right now.

"I-I can understand you all just fine, I'm just a bit tired...." You murmur back, giving up on following König's hand as you started to feel a bit nauseus.

Horangi hummed at your words, quiet and considering, staring at your little form still being held by König.

"When were you transformed?"

"Uhh... like, bitten...? Like, a week ago..."

That gained you a big pause inside the van, the three of them staying in apperantly quiet shock. The van was going even faster now.

"By who?" König almost snarled, his hand tilting your head up to look at him properly. "Stop pulling on my head all the time... this actually hurts..." You mumbled back, trying to pull his heavy hand away from your head and neck area. "And you think I know who did this...? I have no idea...!"

König only let out a low growl, clearly unamused, but it was Horangi who called your attention back to the matter, snapping his fingers to make you look at his face — or rather, his glasses, in this case.

"Can you describe them?"

"No, it was dark and I have no idea what that vampire looked like, h-he was covered from head to toe too...." You frowned, also not very amused by your situation. "I-I... look, I'm really confused, if you could... I mean... where... where are we going...?"

"The Coven." Laswell answered easily, seriously, still speeding up through the streets. You wished you could see outside right now, but here was no windows in the back of the van. "And to the nursery."

"What even is that...?" You whine softly, unsure, leaning slightly forward to try and look at Laswell. "L-Look, I have school, a-and work, could we just... be quick about it?" "Fledgling, you have no idea the gravity of your situation." Horangi commented slowly, shaking his head. "This is your life we're talking about. You might die, if we are not quick enough. And by our laws..."

John, Kyle, Simon and Johnny are absolutely obsessed with your belly bulge (especially when Simon fucks you).

Like I’m talking you just pull out your phone in the helicopter on the way back from a mission, pointing it at the guys with a little “say cheese!”

Only Gaz is smiling in the picture, his right hand held up in a wave. Soap was passed out in his seat, head tilted up at the ceiling. Price, surprisingly, held up a half-assed thumbs up. Ghost just gave you a side-eyed glare, hands gripping the firearm in his lap.

Of course there were some cuter ones as well. There was a picture you got of them all at the bar. Price was holding his glass of whiskey while smiling at Soap and Gaz who’d managed to rope Ghost into doing shots.

Another one of them all sleeping in Gaz’s room because he was the only one with a Netflix account and there was a movie they all wanted to watch. Gaz was star-fished on his bed while Soap was practically on top of him (how they fell asleep like that you didn’t know). Price was sitting on the end of the bed, back against the wall with his arms crossed over his chest and hat hanging down to cover his eyes.

Ghost was sleeping but as soon as you stood up he was awake and getting up too. He was grumbling about being woken up and rubbing at his eyes.

You had some individual pictures too.

One was of Soap smiling and posing in front of a car he saw on the street outside of a pub you went to one night. Another was of Gaz standing with his family who came to visit, you’d never seen him smile so big. You had a picture of Price holding a fish he caught when you and the team had all gone on a short camping trip. There was also one of Ghost baking, looking nothing more than at peace. That was your favorite one of him.