Into Your Veins- Part VIII

Into Your Veins- Part VIII

Ao3 Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4  Part 5 Part 6 Part 7

You’ve never cried during a kiss before, and frankly it’s somehow an even worse experience than it sounds. 

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Idea: Price's callsign is Price but not because it's his last name, it's because back when he was Sgt. he was known for being a 'good time- for a price'.

He's always had this dominant, commanding energy that made plenty of folks want to comply with his orders for the chance he'd grace them with his praise. Pride be damned, the opportunity to kneel at his feet and bark like a dog if he'd ask alone would have anyone straining in their briefs. His higher ups catching wind of Price’s extracurriculars, send one of their most strict captains to wring him a new one for bringing this kind of shame to their esteemed league-

Only to find the same captain crying under Price’s boot, chest heaving as he pants and whines. Cock leaking against his stomach, pants jumbled around his angles. Happily opening his mouth to take Price as deep in his throat as he can, moaning like a whore when Price slaps his cock against the captain's cheek.

"Fuck, Price-" Price pinches at a nipple with a mean grip, making the captain arch his back both in and away from the pain.

"That's sir to you."

"Sir, please!"

...Funnily enough, after the captain's visit, no one spoke out against Price’s hobbies. When Price raised further through the ranks, his habits died off because he was too afraid of throwing his rank around with lower officers. Plus he no longer needed the extra cash.

+*:ꔫ:*﹤ SOAP X GOTH THOUGHTS

short headcanons, writers block went heavy :((

you first met a bar—he fell first, and then fell harder again—! head over heels the first time he spotted you :3 watching you glance over at simon, he shooed the blonde away and immediately got to work on a pickup line, watching you roll your eyes as he offered to buy you a drink—ended up with him drunkly babbling and slurring, and you beating him in pool;night ended with him getting your number!

messaged you later that week, clarifying who you were!! immediately became a regular thing, chatting back and forth—during his deployments mainly! your official, first date was to a cutesy little café :3

you kissed him first. he became obsessed and had to bite his knuckle after

dating wise; he is OBSESSED WITH YOU. huge himbo energy, need something done! he’s doing it and smiling afterwards as you pat his head, he’s so helpful yet so silly and dumb around you— just babbling contently about his day as you do your thick eyeliner!

lets you teach him about the different types of goths, romantic, traditional—he is so invested! sitting with you in your room and listening to faint sound of siouxsie and the banshees play in the back; grooming at his mohawk!

he tells everyone he meets about you; is so proud he pulled you!

nicknames? crow, bat, mama hen, sugartits!

he’s head over heels, you brush him off! jade west energy?? clueless young man falls inlove with disinterested, confused alternative kid, he loves that you ignore him; that’s why he keeps going. he takes it as a challenge!

let’s u pierce his ears for him! feels super edgy afterwards :3 flexes them!

tattooartist!soap?? definitely tattoos his name onto you, little bat beside it !! loves watching you gawk at the tattoo in awe! kissing him afterwards for his hard work!! he is just there to please. that’s all.

if reader is tall?? BYE!!! he loves if you wear heels or boots which also increase your height, he’s (fairly) tall, so when you have to lean down slightly to kiss his cheek it makes him swoon!! but he’ll always try to bulk you out, and he will. never gets embarassed if you’re taller than him, he’s not insecure.

black cat reader, golden retriever soap.

he listens to punk music, he’s definitely a punk—so he lets you listen to his music, and vice versa! let’s you listen to dead kennedys with him in the car, and you let him listen to bahaus in the bedroom! loves that you’re different, loves his freaky chick.

you let him help you with your makeup, applying the pale makeup onto your face, helping him do your eyeliner afterwards—telling him how thick you want it, and to contour your nose with eyeshadow after!

TELL HIM ABOUT YOUR PIERCINGS!!! let him touch them and ask how much they hurt, let him ask you why, let him kiss them after

please ruffle his mohawk and call him your puppy. he’s melting into you and babbling dumbly, the scotsman clinging onto you like a koala!! he’s just jdididkdm!

nsfw next?

༉‧₊˚. — simon 'GHOST' riley; smile for the camera.

warnings .: x reader, smut, mdni 18+, very slight exhibition (i think?), v! penetration, choking, size kink, female anatomy, unedited.

.: masterlist.

simon has STACKS of polaroids of you for when he’s next deployed. you had bought the polaroid camera, all excited to pick up a new hobby; photography. he thought it was stupid, but doesn’t stop you and your aspiring career. you’re taking pictures of everything for the next few weeks. capturing every memory the two of you shared, and piles of pictures were scattered around each room in the house — random ones, blurred ones, blank ones that didn’t develop right.

when you suggest taking pictures for him one night, he doesn’t seem to catch the hint. why’d he have to waste his precious time and take pictures of you when you’re right here?

he still doesn’t understand. he huffs when you climb off of his lap and scurry into your shared bedroom, the soft mutters of the christmas movie you put on for background noise the only thing that catches his attention — and it annoys him. you come back, your shirt hiked up over your bra and the bulky coral-colored camera in hand. 

you sit back onto his lap, shoving the polaroid into his hand and guiding his finger onto the button. he accidentally clicks it, a flash blinding you momentarily and you laugh. 

“eager are we?”

he sucked on his teeth, his eyes rolling at your poor attempt to tease him. his free hand moves to your waist and dips his fingers below the hem of your shorts. you swat his hand away with a pout, mumbling something about patience but he’s too horny to hear – or care. 

simon lowers the camera as you begin to pull your shirt over your head, you whine and tell him to hold it right. but he snaps back and complains that it’s blocking his view. 

it’s your turn to roll your eyes, and you pout and tell him just to listen to you. he begrudgingly listens, muttering a retort under his breath that makes you smack his arm and shift off of his lap. but he’s quick to tug you back, saying he’s sorry and you’re just teasing him too much.

you shake your head, your finger hovering his, over the shutter button. you reach back with the other and undo your bra, letting it slip from your shoulder and into his lap. it’s then when you press down and simon takes a picture, your bare breast developing on the film as it slides out the exit slot. now he understands.

he watches with tight lips, waiting for the picture to develop and practically watching it turn into gold in front of his eyes. simon laughs in disbelief and looks at you, he wonders if this was your plan all along. play with it for a little before using it to make souvenirs for him, what a good girlfriend you were.

the hours blend and he has you bent and folded in every position he knows. it’s so embarrassing, and you find yourself covering your face or squeezing your thighs together, now trying to sheepishly hide from the lens.

but he tuts, reminding you that it was your idea. you can’t hide from him and if you try, he’ll keep you up all night — until he’s filled his album with enough pictures to relive any memory of you in bed.

he’s leaned back onto the sofa, one hand in your hair and one hand holding up the camera. he’s groaning loudly as you gag around his cock, your wide eyes fluttering up to meet his. he’s drooling at the sight, tears staining your blushed cheeks and dripping down your chin.

simon spreads his legs and angles the camera down to catch a glimpse of the way you have a hand wrapped around the base of his cock — too big for you to fit it all in your mouth. he snaps a picture, the flash making little dots cloud your vision.

you giggle, pulling your lips off of him to which he annoyingly grunts, trying to push back into your mouth.

“how many more of these are y’gonna take?”

you ask, pressing your cheek into the inside of his thigh. you’re not even looking at him anymore, so focused on his cock and the way your saliva makes his foreskin glisten.

he can’t resist, simon takes another picture and pulls the developing film from the dispenser, tossing it into the pile with the other pictures he’s taken. your face just looks so small aligned with his cock, the angle making him so much larger than he was.

“m’takin as many as i want. what am i gonna do when i miss you when i’m away and need to release some stress?”

simon tugs at your hair, nodding over to the cushions next to him. his hands immediately find your waist when you stand and he pushes you down into the couch. your hair sprawling over the pillows as you look up at him with wide eyes.

another giggle escapes you, your hand covers your mouth to suppress the laughter. it wasn’t that you were surprised about him being so needy, it’s the way he had a mountain of pictures lazily tossed into a pile. film wrappers crumpled lazily and strewn across the coffee table, the packages once holding refills for the film.

“what’s funny, bun?”

simon’s voice is hoarse, he’s spreading your legs and another picture is added to his collection. the way your cunt is glistening with the flash, your juices smeared on your inner thighs. he swears he’s going to cherish these forever, keep them around til’ they are all tattered and barely visible.

your breath is knocked from your lungs, and you can’t form words no matter how hard you try. he’s sliding his cock in between your folds, nudging your clit with his angry red tip. you whine, your hips bucking up to meet his, needing more friction to ease your arousal; and he takes another picture, how he wishes these images could capture sounds.

he’s pressing his fat, heavy cock against your stomach, a groan spilling from his lips when his tip is leaking just below your belly button. simon smears his precum against your skin, translucent globs dribbling from his slit.

“look at that, gonna be in your fuckin’ stomach.”

simon grins at the sight, but before he gives you the pleasure of filling you up, he’s leaning over you and pressing his lips to your neck. your fingernails dig into his shoulders, crescents forming under your touch, and a slew of apologies is mumbled under your shaky breath.

he hums into the crook of your neck, nipping harshly at your skin before dragging his rough tongue over the spot — soothing the bite. simon trails down to your breast, leaving a path of love bites and covering you in his mark.

while he has you distracted, he shifts his hips and pushes himself into you slowly sinking in inch by inch before he’s balls deep. he leans back and he groans at the sight, you are completely exposed for him with his bitemarks sloppily etched into your skin, a bulge forming in your belly. he slides his calloused hand up in between the valley of your breast and he wraps his hand around your neck, he squeezes lightly, and when you moan quietly as if flustered like it’s the first time he has you filled with his cock —  he snaps another picture. afraid that this moment will vanish.

that was the last of the film that he has. but god, it’s worth it. he promises he’ll buy you more in the morning, but he’s dropped the camera and holding you close. his throbbing cock plunging in and out of your squelching cunt, your juices painting his abdomen, shining his muscles under the dim light.

when he has to leave, he gathers EVERY SINGLE ONE and hides it in between the pages of an old magazine. no one would be caught dead snooping through his things, but it was a precaution he took because he didn’t want you exposed for all of his teammates to see. you were his, and he was never one of share.

AN: guys...i don't even have words tbh. just simon and like he WOULD take so many pics i'm just sooo :((( urgh. i hate him. if i missed any warnings lmk!

I love you fanfic writers who write on their computer

I love you fanfic writers who write on their phone

I love you fanfic writers who update weekly

I love you fanfic writers who haven’t updated in months

I love you fanfic writers who share everything

I love you fanfic writers who keep their works to themselves

I love you fanfic writers who have been doing this for years

I love you fanfic writers who are just getting started

I love you fanfic writers who are still discovering their style

I love you fanfic writers who write in another language

I love you fanfic writers who write in a second language

I love you fanfic writers who self-project onto their characters

I love you fanfic writers who try to be as canonically accurate as possible

I love you fanfic writers who write for only one muse

I love you fanfic writers who write for multiple muses

I love you fanfic writers who only write fluff

I love you fanfic writers who only write smut

I love you fanfic writers who write for popular characters

I love you fanfic writers who write for obscure minor characters

I love you fanfic writers

Need John Price to sit me on his lap and hold my legs back by my thighs while he uses a vibrator on me. Burying his face in my neck telling me how good I’m doing while he looks down and watches.

Need him in full tactical gear too and me in only his shirt, panties pulled off to the side, and cute fuzzy socks while he makes me cum and squirt like 4 times.

That would solve all my problems, methinks.