25 - any pronouns - new to writing - polar bear irl
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character tags -> Soap - Ghost - Gaz - Price
I see a lot of headcanons where Laswell’s wife is very fem and while I support that and love it, may I also offer you a butch wife built like a fridge who makes sure, for all of Kate’s work-fueled stress, that she never has to lift a finger at home.
"you've broken a lot of rules, price" because they're seeing the same girl and Simon was supposed to get Fridays but just found out Price has her stashed up north in a safe house of his
Your neighbour, Simon “Ragebait” Riley revving his midlife-crisis-esque chopper loud as fuck late into the evening on a Sunday because he gets a kick out of seeing your little scowling face pop up in the corner of your flat’s window.
Pushing his luck in hopes that you’ll be bothered enough to come down and give him an earful before someone else does.
Pre-work thought, dug from the depths of discord (April of LAST YEAR fuck), free to a good home, lord knows if I'm ever gonna write it up eventually blah blah blah
Delusional hook up Ghost. He's a weirdo, and he disappears for weeks and months at a time, but he's a good lay and you're really cool with the arrangement. And one day you ask him to pick up food on the way to your place because you worked late and didn't have time to eat. He does it because why wouldn't he? That same night the condom breaks and you let him come inside a couple times, then ask for the money for the morning after pill and supplies to make the coming symptoms not quite so bad. He hands it over without a fuss.
The problem is that a month later, laying in his bed this time, he interrupts your afterglow with, "'M no good at this. Relationships."
Relationship??? You start wincing your way out of bed to find your clothes. Get dressed with a lot of hmmms and uh huhs and awwws as he tells you that he's in the military, he's got a difficult past, no one taught him to love, all the usual "I want a relationship without the responsibility" crap. He gets up to follow you as you make your way to the front door, like a pitbull at the pound, all muscles and sad eyes.
He's phenomenal in bed, so you don't block his number on the train home. But it's a near thing.
Friend-of-a-friend Soap who’s always set you a little on edge. You know he’s got a crush on you, and at the moment you decide to reach out for a favour—something he’s assured you over and over is okay, you’re not even in dire straits, just in need of a ride and being pestered by some rando outside of a bar. This text message could have probably been a ride-share order and a quick chat with the bouncer if you’re being honest with yourself.
‘lol I told this guy my boyfriend is coming to pick me up can you come get me?’
It’s entirely too soon after his ‘👍’ and a confirmation of your location that his work truck pulls up, and with a disgruntled, meek “that him?” the guy is already well on his way back inside.
The poor vehicle’s driver side door nearly flies right off its hinges in Johnny’s race against the retreating man that’s given him a misbegotten reason to stick his tongue down your throat.
“Got tae sell it right?” He puffs into your open mouth, long after the man is gone.
Laswell checking in on her wife even if you don’t know about that arrangement.
CW: 18+ mdni, somno, breaking in, stalking, fem terms used for reader
She was checking up on you while you were sleeping, movements unnaturally clumsy for a woman like her all because she saw an online order for a new toy that would have arrived while she was tying up some loose ends from her last op.
It’s bigger than whatever you’ve ordered before and she had been curious what sparked this sudden upsize, finding the chance to check your browsing history around the same time she was wiring you your monthly funds she had fabricated some distantly-related lawsuit beneficiary story for.
Turns out nothing in your late night stress-relief browsing had changed. Maybe you were just curious? Well, she could entertain curiosity too.
It would have been easy to get lost and just sit on the edge of your bed for the entirety of her allotted ‘wife-time’, carding diligent work-worn fingers from your temple to your crown as soft breaths puffed out of your parted lips. You were perhaps the most beautiful person she had ever seen.
It could be argued you were even more beautiful as she fucked you on your shiny new toy—grateful as always for your heavy sleeping habits. She was hunched over you where she sat on your bed, one leg on her lap and the other drawn up and to your side, sleep shorts hooked around the ankle, laying you bare.
Her hawk-like eyes watched your every sound, movement, and spasm, well aware of the looming threshold that might wake you were she to get carried away. It wasn’t like she had gone in raw, her hasty prep pavloving you into a syrupy mess she would have happily savoured any other night—but this thing was new and big, easier to be described as a little battering ram rather than a ‘toy’. She had to be careful.
She could feel her eyes dilate and glaze over as your folds struggled to spread around the intrusion, parting around it pathetically. With the brutal stretch, her attention had been drawn over to your clit where it sat at the apex, begging to be touched.
Her analytical mind gave in a little and with it, the leeway she would allow herself to give some much needed attention to your touch-starved clit. It was risky, the only close call she had to you waking up being the night she found out just how sensitive it was.
Her lust-clouded mind reassured her as her thrusts slowed and deepened, if you woke up, she always had the uncanny ability to recall pressure points—coupled with the honed reaction time of a viper? Surely just a little attention to detail would be fine.
There had been a shamefully short time between making contact with the nerves and you clenching and whining in your sleep. It almost felt like a triumph over the toy and there was a smug lilt to her voice as she popped it out of your stretched pussy.
“That’s my girl.” She cooed cockily, cleaning you up and tucking you back in. “Even your body knows who’s in charge here.”
She busied herself re-sanitizing the toy before taking a walk around your place, floor layout burned into the back of her eyelids while she checked for hazards and safety.
As per routine, she had grabbed a few souvenirs to keep her sane during the next few weeks on her way to put the toy back where it sat before her intrusion.
There was the ghost of a kiss to your forehead and the whispered promise she’d come back safe for you before she slipped out.
Going out clubbing with major “Maneater” vibes hoping to reel in a feverish passionate one night stand only to swiftly be out-freaked by maybe the most desperate and enthusiastic wall off meat with a Scottish accent you’ve ever seen following you around all night like he wants to hump your leg clean off.
Unexpected hot weather in May inviting thoughts of sweaty Johnny groaning out half-hearted excuses about his “winter weight” making the heat unbearable as he pulls you in for a bear hug to recharge after spring cleaning in the yard.
Laswell checking in on her wife even if you don’t know about that arrangement.
CW: 18+ mdni, somno, breaking in, stalking, fem terms used for reader
She was checking up on you while you were sleeping, movements unnaturally clumsy for a woman like her all because she saw an online order for a new toy that would have arrived while she was tying up some loose ends from her last op.
It’s bigger than whatever you’ve ordered before and she had been curious what sparked this sudden upsize, finding the chance to check your browsing history around the same time she was wiring you your monthly funds she had fabricated some distantly-related lawsuit beneficiary story for.
Turns out nothing in your late night stress-relief browsing had changed. Maybe you were just curious? Well, she could entertain curiosity too.
It would have been easy to get lost and just sit on the edge of your bed for the entirety of her allotted ‘wife-time’, carding diligent work-worn fingers from your temple to your crown as soft breaths puffed out of your parted lips. You were perhaps the most beautiful person she had ever seen.
It could be argued you were even more beautiful as she fucked you on your shiny new toy—grateful as always for your heavy sleeping habits. She was hunched over you where she sat on your bed, one leg on her lap and the other drawn up and to your side, sleep shorts hooked around the ankle, laying you bare.
Her hawk-like eyes watched your every sound, movement, and spasm, well aware of the looming threshold that might wake you were she to get carried away. It wasn’t like she had gone in raw, her hasty prep pavloving you into a syrupy mess she would have happily savoured any other night—but this thing was new and big, easier to be described as a little battering ram rather than a ‘toy’. She had to be careful.
She could feel her eyes dilate and glaze over as your folds struggled to spread around the intrusion, parting around it pathetically. With the brutal stretch, her attention had been drawn over to your clit where it sat at the apex, begging to be touched.
Her analytical mind gave in a little and with it, the leeway she would allow herself to give some much needed attention to your touch-starved clit. It was risky, the only close call she had to you waking up being the night she found out just how sensitive it was.
Her lust-clouded mind reassured her as her thrusts slowed and deepened, if you woke up, she always had the uncanny ability to recall pressure points—coupled with the honed reaction time of a viper? Surely just a little attention to detail would be fine.
There had been a shamefully short time between making contact with the nerves and you clenching and whining in your sleep. It almost felt like a triumph over the toy and there was a smug lilt to her voice as she popped it out of your stretched pussy.
“That’s my girl.” She cooed cockily, cleaning you up and tucking you back in. “Even your body knows who’s in charge here.”
She busied herself re-sanitizing the toy before taking a walk around your place, floor layout burned into the back of her eyelids while she checked for hazards and safety.
As per routine, she had grabbed a few souvenirs to keep her sane during the next few weeks on her way to put the toy back where it sat before her intrusion.
There was the ghost of a kiss to your forehead and the whispered promise she’d come back safe for you before she slipped out.
I love the duality between apocalypse!Soap and apocalypse!Ghost because they’re both ditching their humanity but it’s like that bus meme with one side frowning (Ghost) one side smiling (Soap)
The main difference though, is Ghost rejecting society instantly to lone-wolf it vs Soap trying to play apocalypse tv drama hero for a while before he eventually goes off the rails.