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#individually and together (platonically)
limitedseries · 1 year
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Roy and Rebecca when they see each other: 🫡
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me-sploh-rada-imas · 3 months
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i will never be the same after chapters three and four... the fact that they're the only ones together (so far but also don't think anyone else will be together) is so bonded pair don't separate energy
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thwackk · 11 months
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my ass will be like “idc abt romance at all. shit sucks lmao” and then all i ever draw is romantical intimate shit for fictional couples i made up in my head
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the-darklings · 2 years
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What is he if not Lord of unanswered dreams and hopes?
Honestly, it pains me so much that Dream always fails to recognise his own value. That he knows his meaning to the Dreaming, but can’t he see his worth apart from his function. That killed me in the TV series and it kills me here. How often had somebody said something like “you have to do this” or “you don’t have a saying in this” for him to only believe himself worthy as a king for those who sleep instead for a being that deserves to love and dream as well.
I agree, and it's one of the first things I truly appreciated about his characterisation.
To be honest, it's a question that could be argued in many different ways. Past experiences are the first point that pops into my mind. The idea that all past attempts to have something more, to live for something other than his function, is beyond his grasp. Yet, more often than not, if you analyse Dream's pattern, the relationship is either doomed from the start (and he fails to see it/accept it), or he is entirely incompatible with the individual, to begin with. Dream's own inability to form meaningful change is, arguably, half the issue here, if not most of it.
It's clear that Dream is lonely. That he dearly desires something more but has been burned too many times to try and shoulder the potentially another failure. He has such responsibility placed on him that he instead chooses to - as Corinthian aptly puts it - "feel nothing". I think it's easier for him to focus on his duty because the depth of his own loneliness might undo him. Again, it's not a lack of love or even care. It's too much love. Dream is cold not because he doesn't feel but because he loves too much, too quickly, too intensely.
But he is also oh so proud. All those failed relationships and connections are felt so much deeper, even if he's not verbal about them.
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the-acid-pear · 5 months
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Btw some of you will remember from many months ago I had said I had a crush on a mutual and by months I mean it might have been last year I say a lot anyway point is I've gotten over my crush and now I'm simply obsessed with them. How so? Well hehe 😊 anyway,
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zhongli-lover-69 · 7 months
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i'm sorry THIRTEEN AND FOREMAN KISS????? i did NOT see this one coming. sue me for assuming they were gay in opposite directions
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catoscloves · 2 years
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why is JP always forcing characters like klaus and caroline to be like 'stelena is love stelena is soulmates' like pls no
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vergina-spva · 2 years
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Revenge ask!!
NSFW SHIP MEME - LAW X PENGUIN!!! 😈😈
(Send me a ship and I'll tell you.... NSFW edition - still open)
Joke's on you, my multishipper heart ships about everything at least a little 😛
Who is the loudest? 
Penguin. Peng just can't keep his voice down. Law, on the other hand, has alsmost perfect controll over the sounds he makes when he's with Peng.
Who is the more submissive? 
Peng. Although, sometimes, Law likes to be submissive too. Especially when he's been working hard and needs to relax.
Who is more experimental? 
Hmmm I was gonna say Law, but then I changed my mind. Penguin has many things he wants to try, but he doesn't always dare to tell Law about them, so most of it just stays inside his head. While Law would be open to a lot, he's got the things he likes and doesn't feel much need to experiment.
Do they fuck or make love?
Make love. No doubt about it.
Lights on or lights off? 
Off. Just because they don't feel more comfortable with each other that way.
Who likes sexting the most? 
Neither. Maybe Law, but mainly to tease Penguin, nothing serious.
Who is more likely to be caught masturbating? 
Penguin. Law would never let himself be caught.
Who is better at oral and who prefers it? 
Law is better (Law is the master of giving BJs), but Peng likes doing it more.
Who usually initiates things? 
Both? Both. Both is good. But probably Peng a little bit more.
Who has the most/weirdest kinks?
Law. No doubt about it.
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casuellenjoyer · 1 year
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im at the age where i dont really care about romantic relationship wether irl or in fiction/media. like give me those deep platonic friendships that can move mountains, ride or die type of dynamic, everyone’s favorite found family trope, siblings who are trying their best at understanding each other despite their differences, parent(s) making up for their past mistakes to their children, old friends mending their friendship from the old wounds they gave to each other, etc etc. like give me more of those PLEASE
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bibiana112 · 2 years
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Is the issue with Amame and Gen that Gen is "ugly"?
What do we mean by "issue" here anon? If I've complained about the two's relationship and I know I have somewhere I think the main issue is that they established a very wholesome and profound platonic relationship, even calling it familial at some point only to last minute go "No... they were romantic feelings all along" because that makes it more... meaningful? Or something? The issue I have with it is amanormativity, basically, the basis of their relationship of her being one of the few accepting people in his life is very good but there's no reason it should have fallen back into the person who'll do everything for their crush trope at least not in the way that it did
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thefleshyougoveggie · 3 months
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having friends who are a couple can genuinely be awesome
if you’re friends with both of them individually and if they don’t make you feel left out at all
it’s like,
i get to spend time with two people i really appreciate and i get to see them happy together at the same time????
perfect^_^
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teaboot · 2 months
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Some more non-romantic relationship dynamics I like to see in media
Enemies to reluctant allies
Enemies to enthusiastic partners in crime
Partners in crime to bitter rivals
Moron in chief and their right hand man
The mature voice of reason VS their forty stupid friends
Platonic soulmate BFFs who share everything
You WERE my idol but now you're basically my parent and also a huge nerd
We tried dating but realized we're WAY better as a professional criminal partnership
Enemies to parent and kid
We're essentially the exact same fucking person and everyone sees it except us
Goofy mentor and very serious pupil
Straight-laced person (craves violence) and wildcard (craves stability) stuck together
Married to get people off their backs and faking that married life in public
The group that NEEDS to be kept separated because they're fine and normal individually but together they make things explode
This is my pet dad who I pulled out of the trash, yes they are functionally useless
Airhead jocks who would die for each other
Stupid in opposite ways
Small diverse gathering united only by a powerful obsession with an incredibly specific niche interest
Enemies while at work, bros off the clock
Incredibly dangerous criminal and their cinnamon roll friend
Person determined to be shitty VS person determined to fuck with them
Tired voice of reason VS enthusiastic dumbass
We hate each other but there is strong underlying admiration and respect
Normal person and just the most unhinged freak you've ever come across in your life
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sweet-as-an-angel · 11 months
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Miguel and Hobie Fighting for Your Love
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Summary: Both men knew they were wildly in love with you. But, as you remain oblivious to their feelings, their conflict strengthens. A war is brewing.
“I won’t let you have her.” Miguel’s eyes gleamed between the velvet sheets of artificial night, the dim glow of the control panel at his back, casting a shroud over his front. Hobie stood before him, gripping his guitar by the neck, resting it over the back of his shoulders. His other hand sat in his pocket, creating the illusion of comfort. Yet, beneath his lax exterior, Miguel could hear his heart pounding. Racing. Hobie drew a breath, looked off to the side.
“I don’t think that’s your decision to make, Big Man.” Eyes half-lidded, he returned to Miguel, dragging his stare. Lethargy. Gave a thin smile. “Though, I suppose that if you knew that – really believed it – you’d know that you don’t stand a chance–”
Miguel’s fists clenched, the sound of his suit squealing beneath his grip causing Hobie’s gaze to flicker. He swallowed, shallow. He knew what Miguel was capable of – had seen how many lives he’d gladly put at risk for you. And he’d do it again if it weren’t for the fact that your friendship to both him and Hobie was what kept them locked in a stalemate; a spectral triangle; Bermuda. An anomaly in itself.
Of course, you had no clue that you’d captured the hearts of the two superheroes. The problem was that they did. Their softened attitude towards you, their care for the most banal of features of your life, their seemingly bottomless investment in your close circle of friends and beyond could have been construed as platonic concern. Friendship of the highest degree.
Once they realised that, individually, they were not alone in the pursuit of your heart, a competition was born. Miguel, ever the organised, careful individual he was, orchestrated your time together, manufactured it, monitored it – poured over it with a fine-toothed comb. Many a night had he spent awake wondering what your accidental brushing of hands had meant, whether the warmth that had flushed your cheeks was the result of his presence or the joke he’d just cracked, your laughter Calliopic. Persephonic.
He savoured every hug you shared, no matter how brief, sewing the patchwork memories into the fabric of his heart, the fragrance soaking into his bones. Your phantom warmth wrapped around him tightly, a second suit, whenever he needed it – needed you. He’d find ways of encouraging physical contact whenever he could, his heart throbbing at the feeling of your face pressed into his chest, your arms around his back as he embraced you.
He wondered what your kisses tasted like. Whether you thought of him when you used that chapstick he bought you, ice cream cake – the aroma of celebration. Because, to him, any moment with you was a celebration.
Miguel would offer to take you home after work. Though, not via ordinary means of travel.
He’d permit you to hop onto his back and slide your arms around his neck, taking you on a spin through the city, bringing you to the highest peaks, the pinnacles of human beauty through neon illuminations making the city sparkle like a sea of jewels. He’d feel his heart stutter as you shifted to get a closer look, your chin almost resting on his shoulder, cheeks just touching as you gasped, took in the scenery. In times like these, he was glad of the mask, of his ability to hide the effect you had on him, how you played his emotions like a string instrument.
“I’ve never seen the city like this before,” you told him, voice gentle at his ear, almost carried away by the wind. Miguel heard you. He strained his every spider sense to do so, no matter the conditions.
“Hobie hasn’t done this with you?” He tried not to let the hope in his tone show. You shrugged. 
“He’s more of a stargazing kind of guy. Though, I’ll let you in on a secret,” your voice tailed off. Miguel leaned in. You whispered. “I think he just doesn’t want to go pivoting off buildings after a long day of already having done so.”
Miguel felt an idea spark in his brain. The start of a new ritual, routine, for just you and him. This would be for him what stargazing was to hobie – he’d bring you closer to the stars than Hobie ever could!
Whenever he’d return you home, whisking you through the midnight air, he’d place you at your door, imply what a good time he’d had. And, as always, you thanked him, eyes crinkling before parting with a hug.
Miguel would wait until you’d enter your apartment and locked the door behind you before leaving, and even then, he’d find himself perched atop a nearby building, waiting for something, anything to happen – for any opportunity wherein he could prove to you he was a hero. In times like these, he wished with a selfish heart that you lived in a more decrepit part of the city.
He realised how much he loved you – adored you – when you fell asleep in his arms after work one evening. He’d been carrying you to your room when you just nodded off. In his grasp, you were tiny, fragile. Weak. The responsibility of protection, the fierce need to watch over you, to possess you entirely, overcame him, overwhelmed every sensibility he’d cultivated throughout his life.
And so, he watched you. Eneamoured himself with your sleeping features, the trust you displayed to have fallen asleep on him. In his mind, this becomes a core memory. One which he turns into a joke between the two of you, his own fragment of sanctity – the beginnings of close friendship – one he’d use to build a statue like Hobie’s. A statue of you. 
Hobie’s eyes narrowed. His nose wrinkled as his lips turned up in a half-sneer.
“You think the odd hug and a second of eye contact constitute as…what? A chance?” He scoffed. “A signifier that she feels for you more than she feels for the common man?” Incredulity danced in hobie’s eyes. Seethed from between his lips. The corner of his lips pulled back, revealed a smirk.
“Get over yourself, Mate. If she were interested, you’d know it by now.”
Of course, Hobie had his own collection of memories regarding you, his own wardrobe of moments sewn together with the thread of mirth to wear and fashion whenever and however he so pleased. He would wear it out to parties, on the town, to the Spidey-Station (as he referred to it with you). Show Miguel that his bare-threaded ribbon was nothing compared to his tapestry.
You and Hobie would wander the city when it was late and dark and quiet, talking about anything and everything that crossed your minds, more often than not leading the two of you to howl with laughter, leaning against each other as tears flooded from your eyes. The story, regardless of how funny it had been, held no weight compared to the joy that sparked in Hobie’s chest whenever you touched, whenever you simply existed with him. Fireworks.
You got him in ways nobody else truly could.
Many times had he come to visit you, only to lay his head in your lap and tell you what was bothering him. Sometimes it was trivial, others it was not. And every time, you’d sit and listen, playing with his hair and the badges on his jacket. And, of course, Hobie did the same for you.
One evening, you’d come banging on Hobie’s door, voice distraught as you called for him. He practically tore the door off its hinges when he heard how distressed you were, and, when he saw you, his heart tore. Your face was tear-streaked and your posture gave the impression of anguish, immortal and unrelenting.
“Hobie,” you cried. “Am–” your sniffing diced your words like meat in a kitchen. “Am I pretty?!”
Hobie blinked, unsure if he’d heard the question. And when he didn’t respond, you wailed.
Hobie knew what this was, for you’d spoken about it at length many times before. Insecurity was a powerful tool, especially when fuelled with sleep-deprivation and alcohol, one which Hobie wished he could destroy. But, while he couldn’t do that yet, he reached for you and took you in his arms. And as you cried into his shoulder, he told you how beautiful you were, how surprised he was that he was able to get a look in with you at all with how many men were chasing after you. And when you tried to say that no such thing had ever happened, he pulled back, gave you a smile, the visage of mischief.
“That’s ‘cause I scared ‘em all away!”
Your veneer cracked, and a laugh sprung from the concrete, the beginnings of life in an apocalypse. What Hobie wanted to say, though, what he nearly said, was everything he felt for you – how no word in the human vernacular could ever even begin to comprehend or compare how ethereal you were to him, how widely his love for you encompassed his very being, everything he said, did and wanted dictated entirely by the thought of you.
He opened his mouth, holding you close again. He could say it all now, while you were drunk – pretend it never happened if the exchange turned sour. But he knew he couldn’t live with your rejection, even if you’d have no memory of it.
He closed his mouth, swallowed the confession that teetered on his tongue like a pill. Consumed his contemplation, obscuring his feelings from you for just a little longer. While he couldn’t say it – not yet – he pulled you closer still, chest-to-chest, one hand at the back of your head and the other wrapped around your waist. A lover’s lock. And he held you. Tightly.
“You’re the most beautiful woman in every universe, (Y/N). I should know.” he murmured. He felt you nestle into him. You’d heard him. He sighed. “I just wished you could see it, too.”
Both men viewed the other as possessing some unattainable advantage, the beginnings of a  fabled proverb blatant in their desire to attain what they thought the other had. What they were both striving for.
You.
For Hobie, the very thing he had prided himself on was his self-believed downfall. Friendship. The two of you had been friends for years, basked in a platonic limelight. Initially, Hobie hadn't needed to worry about how you viewed him, but as he fell deeper and deeper in love with you the longer he knew you, the fact that you’d maintained such a close friendship with him without once giving the indication of romanticism frightened him.
Miguel had only waltzed into your life a few months ago. You didn’t have to see him in a platonic light, didn’t have to bear witness to his deepest faults or his subtlest of quirks. Quite simply, you didn’t know enough about him for his mystique to be shattered.
On the contrary, Miguel saw how close you and Hobie were, how, without saying a word, the two of you knew what the other was thinking. He found your incessant asking of “Do you think Hobie would like this?” when visiting a store to be intimidating. He wondered if you asked the same when you went out with Hobie. If he was the subject of your concern as your best friend often was.
Whereas Hobie knew your every thought and desire, Miguel knew he clutched at straws by comparison, drinking in every detail you afforded him, taking nothing for granted. He’d bring you gifts, stories, regalements from his time out in the field, and his chest would swell whenever you watched him with wide eyes. He hoped, with every fibre of his being, that your astonishment was confined to him and him alone. He prayed that your years of friendship to Hobie was enough to dull any excitement you may feel when he told you similar tales.
This war was simply beginning, no two ways about it. And as they surveyed each other, Hobie and Miguel, weighing up the other’s pull on you, their minds conjoined to speak once and for the last time.
“May the best man win.”
Reblog for more content like this! It helps creators like myself tremendously and it is greatly appreciated :-)
Masterlist Masterpost
Yandere Masterlist Juicy Original Content <3
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avis-writeshq · 7 months
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summary: "drop everything now, meet me in the pouring rain."/"kiss me on the sidewalk, take away the pain." The first time you meet Spencer Reid, you swore that you could feel the sparks fly. You figured that it would be unreasonable to ever consider him to be anything more than a friend, and in a moment of selflessness you tell yourself that you are perfectly fine in that position. As time goes on, the line between romantic and platonic love begins to blur indefinitely. But it would be ridiculous to think that the resident genius would feel anything for you... right?
pairing: spencer reid x bau!fem!reader genre: best friends to lovers, fluff, hurt/comfort, angst, slow burn, mutual pining, happy ending warnings: rated 16+ for canonical criminal minds trauma, drugs/relapsing, torture, therapy, panic attacks/night terrors, guns, death, ‼️always read each fic's individual warnings for triggers‼️ taglist [CLOSED]: here playlist: here status: complete
main masterlist || ao3
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bonus! 00 — l.d.s.k
in other words, the first time spencer calls you 'angel'. // wc: 2.2k
part of my 2023-2024 milestone event! you can find it here!
01 — better than revenge
“she’s not a saint, no, she’s not what you think. she’s an actress.” 
you thought you were past the immature arguments now that you're an adult. you thought you left those in high school, or even college. maybe you thought you did. apparently, spencer thought otherwise. // wc: 10.4k
02 — haunted
“something’s gone terribly wrong, you’re all i wanted.”/“you’re not gone, you can’t be gone.”
it wasn't supposed to be like this. it was supposed to be a normal open-shut case. but people are unpredictable and you're left picking up the pieces as you work yourself to the grave. // wc: 10.1k
03 — labyrinth
“uh oh, i’m falling in love”/“thought the plane was going down, how’d you turn it right around?”
everything hurts. it's understandable, after everything he's went through. spencer wishes that he could erase every one of his scars. he wishes he could stop chasing the highs and embrace the lows. but at least he has you. // wc: 3.8k
04 — you are in love
“you can hear it in the silence.”/”you can hear it on the way home.”/”you can see it with the lights out.”
spencer didn't think that something like this could happen. no, rather, he wanted to deny the fact that something like this could happen. but all he can think about is you. in other words; the four times spencer wants to kiss you, and the one time he wishes he did. // wc: 3.4k
05 — enchanted
“please don’t be in love with someone else”/“please don’t have somebody waiting on you.”
the line drawn in the sand that was once supposed to be an invisible boundary to never cross is washed away by the sand. these are the kind of lines where you could never go back to should you cross them; and yet here you are, so scared to see the ending as the two of you pretend that this is nothing. // wc: 4.9k
06 — untouchable
“come on, come on, say that we’ll be together”/“i’m caught up in you.”
so close and yet so far. maybe in some twisted way, you are each other's romeo and juliet, doomed from the beginning. or maybe you are each other's hamlet and ophelia, the tragedy of a love that never really was. // wc: 4.3k
07 — wildest dreams
“he’s so tall, and handsome as hell”/”his hands are in my hair, his clothes are in my room.”
never in your wildest dreams did you think that you would be privileged enough to experience something so good. spencer reminds you that these things are reality. // wc: 3.3k
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reblogs are always appreciated!
taglist [CLOSED]: here
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moonstruckme · 5 months
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poly!marauders drabbles (1/2)
cont.
☁︎ = headcanon ✩ = 18+, mdni ♡ = mae's favs
The marauders are fascinated with their artist!gf ☁︎
The marauders reassure you when you're insecure in your relationship
Marauders x a reader who's hyper-independent ♡
The boys get jealous of your new friend
You give them gifts for your one-month anniversary
The marauders love their individualized pet names
Overprotective!marauders when you sneak out to a party ♡
They think you're breaking up with them after an argument
The boys help when you're having period cramps
Poly!marauders x sunshine!reader
Poly!marauders x overwhelmed sunshine!reader
You worry others are judging your relationship, and the boys comfort you
They help you when you dissociate
You tell the boys you love them (and you get there first)
A calm, domestic morning with the marauders ♡
A semi-calm, domestic night
You get an anxious stomachache, and they help
The marauders discover Target
Poly!marauders and casual dominance
The boys keep coming to your work (totally not to flirt with you)
Poly!marauders x Slytherin!reader who's stressed about school
You don't realize you're flirting, but they don't not like it
The boys are shocked when you swear
The boys are not at all shocked when you swear
They react to you flinching during an argument
The boys help when you have an allergic reaction
There's no way the marauders are flirting with you (except they are)
Poly!marauders x plus size!reader when you're feeling insecure
They learn that sometimes you just need time alone
Your boyfriends think your plushies are adorable
The boys help with your pre-presentation anxiety
They think you're gorgeous with or without glasses
Apocalypse au
When you're reunited ♡ Dancing around the fire You get hypothermia
You all take care of Remus before a full moon
platonic!marauders (+Lily) help you decorate your apartment
The boy help (some more than others) when you can't say what you mean
You and the marauders choose your group Halloween costume
Rockstar!marauders x rockstar!reader
They love your curly hair
The marauders when you come back to school seeming fragile
They take care of you when you're sick
Sleepy aftercare with bratty!reader ♡
The boys comfort you after a panic attack
Poly!marauders x tall!reader when you're insecure about your height
You and the boys figure out you want to be together
They react to you crying over a book
Protective!marauders watch out for you at a party
Poly!marauders x hyperactive!reader
The boys are (lovingly) exasperated when you forget your meds
Roommate!marauders when you come home tipsy
They realize you've been hiding your food
Your boyfriends comfort you before a trip to the doctor
The marauders love your fancy socks
Plus size!reader and shying away from touch
Sirius and you gush about your boyfriends in French
Bodyguard!marauders with sunshine!reader ♡
Bodyguard!marauders when you keep sneaking off
They're casually dominant when you're stressed out ♡
Poly!marauders x (raccoon)animagus!reader
The boys make a competition of abstinence
They worry when you spend too long in the rain
Your first morning with the marauders
You come out to the boys as non-binary
When you and James come home drunk ♡
They throw you a surprise party
You are not on the same page about shower temperatures
You all have a talk about self-harm
The marauders do their damndest to flummox shy!reader (it's not hard)
You hide a black eye from them
Tall!reader teases the boys
They talk you through a friend breakup
They comfort you after you hit an animal with your car
You and the boys enjoy a domestic time during the holidays ♡
You all oggle James
Emt!marauders (see the continued masterlist for more)
They come to your rescue after a car accident ♡ | cont. Your boyfriends are called after a mishap at work Your boyfriends help when you hurt your back You call an ambulance when you're having a panic attack Your boyfriends comfort you through vertigo ♡ Your boyfriends come get you after an accident
The boys comfort you when you don't get into your top school
Short!reader teams up with Remus to give the other boys shit
They want you to let them comfort you after a nightmare
The marauders love your weight gain ♡
Your boyfriends learn about social burnout
The boys coddle a touched starved!you ♡
Roommate!marauders get a teensy bit jealous during a night out
Whimsical!reader tries some alternative healing methods
They bring you, high and giggly, to an aquarium
You want your boyfriends to take charge
You have chronic pain, and they know how to take care of you ♡
Sleepy aftercare with the boys ✩
Your boyfriends know how to share ✩
They reassure you it's okay to have boundaries ✩
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sadprose-auroras · 7 months
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Strings Attached - Hazel Callahan x reader
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Hey loves!! I think we're learning I'm incapable of writing anything that isn't friends to lovers lol. As always, feedback is greatly appreciated!
Content: smut, oral, fingering, awkwardness but cuteness, cursing. (18+ ONLY) - all characters are over 18.
Summary: Hazel grows jealous of PJ and Josie's sexual encounters since creating fight club. So the two of you decide to strike a deal. No strings attached. Word Count: 4.2k
By clicking 'read more,' you are confirming you are 18+.
“You know what? I’m kind of jealous.”
“Huh?” You looked up from the book you were reading, completely oblivious to your surroundings. You looked at your friend Hazel who was sitting next to you, scribbling in a notebook. She jutted her chin out, and you looked to see where she was indicating. On the football field in front of the bleachers you were sitting on, cheer practise was happening, and everybody had dispersed for a drink break. Your friends, Brittany and Isabel were cheerleaders, and their respective girlfriends, PJ and Josie, were down there too. Isabel and Josie were standing close together, talking and giggling, Isabel’s hand on Josie’s waist. Meanwhile, Brittany and PJ were off to the side of the group, full-on making out, tongues and all. You laughed to yourself at their lack of subtlety, but unable to stop yourself from blushing. You’d certainly never kissed anyone like that.
“You’re jealous cause you wanna make out with PJ? Or Brittany?” you teased. Hazel smiled and flushed, clicking her pen nervously.
“Absolutely not. I just mean…” she sighed. “I guess I’m jealous that they got what they wanted out of fight club. I know it was fucked, but they wanted sex with cheerleaders, you know? And they got it,” she shrugged.
“What are you saying, you want to have sex with a cheerleader? I mean, I’m sure somebody would want to, you’re gorgeous,” you remarked, putting your book down, crossing your legs and facing Hazel. She smiled shyly, shaking her head ever so slightly.
“Thank you,” she said earnestly. It was adorable. “But not necessarily. Just with anyone, would be nice. Don’t you feel like we’re missing out? We should be out there, dating, fucking-“ she stopped suddenly, going bright red. “I mean, not us, together, you and me, but like, separately, as individuals, with other people-“ she babbled, hands flailing around, and you couldn’t stop the next words out of your mouth, heart beating like crazy at Hazel’s words. You knew you were toeing the line of your completely platonic friendship, but you found yourself not caring. She was undeniably attractive, and you were incredibly horny.
“I wouldn’t be opposed to it. Having sex with you, that is. If that’s something that you’d be interested in.” You spoke quickly, then gnawed at your lip nervously. There was no turning back now. Your heart was in your throat.
“Oh. Oh,” was all Hazel managed to say, and you suddenly had an impending feeling. You shouldn’t have said anything, and you were mortified, and you were going to take it all back, no, say that you were joking, although, would she believe you, and-
“I wouldn’t be opposed either,” Hazel said, interrupting your train of thought. Your back straightened. Oh, shit.
“Wait, really? Because it was only a suggestion, I just think that- well- maybe we could get it over with, y’know? We’re both horny, and we’re friends, and we’re comfortable with each other. It could be like… no strings attached.” You shrugged.
“No strings attached,” Hazel agreed, holding her hand out for you to shake. You laughed softly, gripping her hand and giving it a gentle shake, trying to ignore how sweaty your hand was.
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Hazel was a serial organiser. Always had been. And this was no exception. So, she planned the whole thing out. It would be at your house, Friday night, because your parents were away for the weekend. That way, you could go back to yours after school Friday and sleep in Saturday morning. It was all very clinical, methodical, planned out. Which is the way that it should be… right? It’s not like this was real. You were just… practicing. Practicing for when the real thing came along for both of you. That’s all it was.
That Friday was the longest day of your life. First, the morning consisted of you getting changed about five times, before deciding on an outfit. A low-cut tank top and your favourite jeans that you knew made your ass look good. Once you got to school, the nerves didn’t subside, they only got worse. Especially when at lunchtime, you sat in your usual spot with PJ, Josie, Isabel, Brittany, and Hazel. You couldn’t stop blushing and fidgeting, and everything Hazel said that was remotely amusing made you giggle like a little kid. Act normal, you kept scolding yourself. But it was so hard when Hazel was looking so good and you just kept picturing how it might go later. It was one thing to fantasize but it was another entirely to know you were actually going to be having sex with the girl sitting next to you that very same day.
At the end of your final period, you practically ran out of the door as the bell was ringing, rushing to Hazel’s locker to meet her. She wasn’t there yet, and you stood awkwardly, fidgeting with the strap of your bag, nervously rocking back and forth on your feet. When you saw her walking towards you down the hallway amid the crowd, smiling at you, you couldn’t help but smile back.
“Hey,” she said as she approached you, and, surprisingly, your nerves subsided slightly. The way she bounded over to you was so endearing. You were almost tempted to just grab her and kiss her there and then.
“Hey, are you ready?” you asked, and she nodded, leading you out to the carpark to her car.
Neither of you spoke too much on the drive, unsure of what to say to each other. It wasn’t exactly like any other Friday night where you would hang out, watch movies on opposite ends of the couch with a big bowl of popcorn in between you, and part ways with a friendly fist bump. You were also not sure if it was one-sided, but you swore you could already feel the sexual tension in the air. Hazel occasionally glanced over in your direction, and you felt your breath catch in your throat. As nervous as you were, you were mostly excited.
“Here we are,” she said when you pulled up to her driveway. You unclicked your seatbelt, grabbed your bag, and followed her inside. She opened the door for you, holding it open while you walked in. You thanked her, chuckling at her cuteness.
“Do you want a snack? I have cookies,” she opened the pantry, holding up the box proudly. You grinned, nodding.
“Who would say no to that?” you laughed, following her up the stairs to her bedroom. You placed your bag down and kicked your shoes off, sitting on her bed cross-legged while she did the same. You both took a cookie, eating in silence. You could feel your heart beating in your ears.
“Sorry I’m being so awkward,” Hazel said, readjusting so she was a little closer to you. “I’m just nervous.” The tips of her ears were pink, and all you wanted to do was kiss them.
“Me too,” you reassured, reaching out to place your hand on top of hers, and she smiled gratefully. “Think of it this way, it would be weird if we weren’t a little nervous.” She nodded in agreement.
“That’s true,” she said, looking down at your hands, which you were basically holding at this stage. She looked up at you, and you fought the urge to swoon. “I’m more nervous because you’re, well-“ she gestured towards you vaguely.
“I’m what?” you laughed, completely unsure what she meant. She stood up, and you raised an eyebrow, following suit.
“You’re like-“ she used her hands to gesture again, as if she was mimicking curves. You flushed, mouth dropping open. “You’re really hot,” she finally said, and your tummy flipped.
“You think I’m hot?” you asked teasingly, crossing your arms.
“Yeah, are you kidding me?”
“Well, I think you’re really hot too. Like, so attractive.”
“Really?” she asked. As if she was genuinely surprised. As if she walked around all the time looking like that completely blissfully ignorant. It was kind of hard to believe.
“Um, absolutely,” you replied with certainty. “Now that we’ve established we’re attracted to each other…” you trailed off.
“Now what?” Hazel asked, chuckling nervously.
“Maybe we could just start with kissing?” you suggested, moving a step closer to Hazel. You placed your hands on her shoulders, giving them a gentle squeeze to reassure her.
“Yeah, that’s a good start,” she said breathlessly, placing her hands on your waist. You took a sharp intake of breath at the feeling, inwardly wondering how the hell you were going to keep it together later when even the slightest touch from Hazel made you feel dizzy with lust.
You both leaned in, shutting your eyes as your lips met. They slotted together, ever so softly at first, just testing the waters. You parted your lips slightly, kissing her a little deeper, and you were met with a positive response as Hazel wrapped her arms around you tighter, resting her hands in the small of your back and drawing circles with her thumbs. After a few moments, you both pulled away, breathless.
“Well done,” Hazel congratulated you, nodding thoughtfully. “You’re a great kisser.” You chuckled.
“You too. Really good. Can I kiss you again?” you asked, moving your hands up to gently cup the sides of her face. She nodded, leaning in yet again. It was deeper this time, as you both felt more confident. You gently introduced your tongue, and Hazel did the same, as she moaned instinctively into the kiss. This spurred you on; you had never heard a prettier sound. You ran a hand through her hair, as she moved her hands down to your ass, not squeezing, just resting there.
“Is this okay?” she asked against your lips.
“More than,” you murmured, kissing her again, already beginning to feel a throbbing between your thighs. Hazel gently squeezed, and you moaned into the kiss. You knew you were touch-starved, but this was insane. The way she was making you feel with every kiss, every touch, was ungodly.
“Hazel,” you breathed out, kissing her jaw.
“Mm?” she responded, voice catching in her throat. You smiled against her skin.
“Nothing, just like saying your name.”
“Say it again.” Her voice was dripping with need, and you decided then and there that you were going to do everything possible to get her to speak that way to you for as long as possible.
“Hazel,” you whispered, walking with her towards the bed. She sat down first, and you sat down on her lap, straddling her.
“Fuck,” she murmured, looking you up and down, hands resting on the swell of your ass. It was like she couldn’t decide where to look, trying to take everything in. And you were still fully clothed, only the strap of your tank top slipping off your shoulder to reveal your bra strap. She decided to take the opportunity to kiss your shoulder, and you tilted your head to the side, eyes fluttering with bliss. Her lips were so soft.
She fiddled with the bottom of your tank top rather awkwardly, leaving kisses at the base of your neck.
“Do you want to take it off?” you asked, biting your lip.
“Please,” she said breathlessly. You nodded, and she pulled the top over your head, tossing it aside, leaving you in the white lace bra you’d picked to wear specifically for this occasion. Your chest rose and fell in short breaths, and Hazel’s eyes glued to your tits weren’t helping. You decided to throw caution to the wind, and reached behind your back to undo your bra, sliding the straps off your shoulders. Hazel’s eyes widened, taking you all in.
“Fuck, you’re so gorgeous,” she furrowed her brows, as if she couldn’t believe it. Her eyes darted up and down you, and your sudden burst of confidence was gone again, her nerves making you more nervous. You suddenly felt very exposed.
“Haze, it’s okay,” you whispered, cupping the side of her face. “It’s just me.” She gave you a gentle kiss, and your heart burst in your chest.
“Thank you,” she said softly, looking at you with those beautiful doe eyes. “Do you want to take my top off?” she asked. It was so endearing, yet wildly sexy the way she asked. What was this girl doing to you?
“Fuck yes, I do,” you chuckled, as she lifted her arms up to help you pull of her t-shirt. You nibbled at your lip as you wordlessly reached behind her back to undo her bra, and she pushed it off her shoulders, then threw it aside, eyes never leaving yours. She was so beautiful, it almost hurt to look at her. It was like staring into the sun. But you couldn’t look away. Your bare chests pressing together only made the wetness pooling between your thighs more evident, and you briefly wondered if you had ever been so wet in your life.
“Can I?” Hazel asked, resting her lips just at the top of one of your tits. You nodded vigorously, running your fingers through her hair. She began leaving wet kisses, trailing down to your nipple. She took it in her mouth, and you gasped and arched your back. She swirled her tongue, before stopping way before you would have liked to show your other breast some attention. This time, she spent a little longer kissing, sucking, nibbling, paying attention to your reactions. She took your other breast in her hand, tweaking your nipple between two fingers.
“Hazel,” you groaned, shifting in her lap, grinding, trying to find some friction. She continued paying attention to your tits, as she began to attempt to undo your jeans. It was taking her a while, and you gave her a kiss on the top of her head, hoping to give her some reassurance.
“I have no idea what I’m doing,” she whispered, voice dripping with need, hands trembling as she fumbled at undoing the buttons. You frowned, gently placing your fingers under her chin to look up at you. She blinked, eyes wide, bottom lip pouting out slightly. Her eyes were like a sad puppy dog’s, and all you wanted to do was scream because how could somebody be that cute?
“Hey,” you reassured softly, “me neither.” You gave her a soft kiss. “And we don’t have to if you don’t want to. It’s okay. Do you want to watch a movie instead?” Hazel immediately shook her head, hair falling in her eyes.
“No, no, no, I want to so badly, you have no idea,” she breathed out, hands moving to grip your waist. You inhaled sharply, instinctively shifting even closer. “I’m just worried I’m not gonna be any good.”
“If any of this has been an indication so far…” you trailed off, leaning down to pepper feather-light kisses from Hazel’s shoulder, up her neck, stopping at her ear. “You’ll be fucking amazing,” you whispered in her ear. Hazel gasped lightly, and you could feel the goosebumps rising on her skin. You smirked to yourself, her reactions giving you a major confidence boost.
“I want to taste you,” she whispered. “Is that okay?”
“Only if you want to,” you said, heart racing.
“I want to,” she reassured, affirming this by lifting you off your lap and laying you down. You grinned, her assertiveness in this action incredibly hot. You decided to help her out by pushing your pants off your legs, tossing them onto the floor. You were left in a plain pair of cotton panties, biting your lip when you noticed your wetness staining the front of them. Hazel’s eyes were wide, hands gripping your thighs.
“Shit, baby,” she muttered. You squirmed, heart exploding at the nickname. But you didn’t want to scare her, so you didn’t mention it. This was meant to be just friends helping each other out. At least that’s what you were telling yourself.
“Do you normally get this wet?” Hazel asked, genuinely curious. You shook your head vigorously, blushing.
“No, god no… this was all you,” you chuckled breathily. Hazel was a vision leaning over you, hands sliding to grip your hips, thumbs inching under the sides of your underwear making you inhale sharply. Her hair was mused, the chain necklace she was wearing swinging with every movement. She leant forward to kiss you, coming back to that safe space, and you happily accepted. You took the opportunity to move your hands to her tits, giving them a squeeze, then tweaking her nipples between your fingers. She moaned against your mouth, thumbs drawing circles right on that sensitive spot right at the crease of your thigh. She pulled away, moving down to kiss your stomach, stopping right at the top of your underwear for a moment.
She considered her next movements, before placing a feather-light kiss right on your clit through your soaked underwear. You inhaled sharply, instinctively bucking your hips. Hazel raised her eyebrows, as if she was surprised by your reaction. She began gently sucking and licking through your panties, and you couldn’t help the moans that escaped your lips. Hazel looked up at you the entire time, and you wanted to look away, but you couldn’t. There was so much sincerity and vulnerability in her eyes, and it terrified you.
“Haze, please,” you exhaled, fingers finding her hair; not gripping, just holding. She got the message, and pulled your panties down your legs. They went flying as she threw them across the room, not looking away from you for a moment.
“You’re perfect,” she muttered into your skin, kissing and sucking at your inner thighs, absolutely leaving marks. She had a way of giving compliments that forced you to believe them; she never said anything she didn’t mean. Your heart melted. You couldn’t have been fonder of her in that moment.
“Hang on,” you said sitting up slightly, causing her to quickly pull away, clearly flustered.
“Shit, what is it? I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have-“
“No,” you interrupted, not necessarily wanting her to finish that sentence. “No, I just meant hang on for a second, I’m just gonna…” you retrieved a pillow, lifting your hips up to place it under your lower back, then spread your legs apart a little wider than before. Hazel inhaled sharply at the sight of you all wet and spread out for her. It’s all for you, you wanted to say. Only you. But you didn’t.
“There you go, shouldn’t be too hard on your neck now,” you smiled at her, and she chuckled in relief.
“Always so good to me,” she murmured, before attaching her lips to your bare clit, flicking her tongue. You gasped, hand flying back to her hair and gripping this time. When she said she didn’t know what she was doing? Bullshit.
“You’re-you’re s-so good to me,” you barely managed to choke out. “Oh fuck, Haze, that feels so good.”
“Yeah?” she whispered, clearly enjoying herself, which only turned you on more. She began alternating between licking up and down your slit, swirling her tongue around your entrance, and paying attention to your clit. Every time you moaned a little louder, gripped her hair a little tighter, she made a mental note.
“Yeah, fuck, Hazel,” you groaned lowly. It was as if you couldn’t stop yourself from saying her name. She seemed to love it. As your breaths became shorter, her movements quickened, she hoisted your legs above her shoulders as you crossed your ankles, getting even closer. You gasped in surprise, then giggled.
“I could stay between these thighs forever, fuck,” she mused, giving them a rub. You bit your lip, heart fluttering at the implications of her comment. Did that mean she wanted to do this again? Before you could get too in your head, her lips reattached to your pussy and everything else faded away. You tossed your head side to side, suddenly very overwhelmed.
“Oh god, it feels too good, it’s too much, I can’t-“ you babbled, hands covering your face.
“It’s okay baby, it’s okay, take a deep breath, relax into it, feel it,” Hazel mumbled into your pussy, the vibrations only adding to the euphoria. You did as she said, taking a big, quivering inhale, then exhale. You tried to relax your muscles, focusing on the feeling of Hazel swirling her tongue on your clit.
“Good,” she praised into your pussy, blinking up at you. Looking into her eyes helped too; nothing else mattered when she was looking at you like that. You began playing with your own breasts, pinching and rolling your nipples between your fingers, kneading, and Hazel groaned at the sight.
“You’re so hot,” she murmured, as she pulled away for a moment, chest heaving.
“You are- you’re- I-“ you tried, before getting completely distracted at Hazel running two of her fingers up and down your slit, collecting some wetness on her fingers. You watched, completely enthralled as she took them into her mouth, sucking her fingers and closing her eyes, moaning. It was the sexiest thing you had ever witnessed with your own two eyes. You were rendered completely speechless.
“I-you’re- that was-“ you were cut off again by Hazel circling your entrance with those same fingers.
“Is this okay?” she asked, and you nodded.
“Yes, yes, yes, please.” She entered you with one swift movement, taking your breath away in the best way possible. You were so wet, so turned on, so ready for her. She tested the waters by pulling her fingers out halfway, then slipping them back in.
“That’s good, that’s-“ you moaned. “Try doing this with your fingers,” you mimicked a ‘come hither’ motion. She followed suit, the cutest look of concentration on her face as she watched for your reaction. You moaned even louder, nodding vigorously.
“That’s it, don’t stop,” you squeaked, throwing your head back in pleasure. She continued the same motion at the same pace, and you noticed how close you were getting. When Hazel reattached her lips to your clit and began sucking, you were done for.
“Yes, yes, yes,” you cried out, hand flying back into her hair, gripping probably a little too hard. But it only seemed to spur her on.
“Harder, more,” you instructed, and she began finger-fucking you with more force, going deeper, sucking your clit a little harder, kitten-licking at the same time.
“Haze, Haze, Haze,” you gasped, mouth hanging open as you took in the sight of her. She was looking at you with wide, lustful eyes, continuing the same pace.
“I-I’m gonna-“ you squeaked between sharp breaths. Hazel slid a third finger in, curling her fingers at a rapid pace, tongue swirling on your clit in the most delicious way. You could tell she was determined to make you cum. This sent you over the edge, and you cried out, making the most ungodly sound that you weren’t certain was even that sexy, but you didn’t care at this stage. You threw your head back, mouth hanging open as waves of pleasure wracked your body, all the way from your stomach, spreading to your entire body. You could feel how sweaty you had gotten, but you didn’t care.
“Hazel,” you moaned loudly, riding out your orgasm as she continued her movements, increasingly slowing down. It briefly crossed your mind again how ridiculous her statement about having no idea what she was doing was. This was way more mind-blowing than you could have ever imagined.
“Well done, that’s it,” she whispered as she slowed down, before ceasing her movements. Breathe, you internally reminded yourself, slowly coming back to reality. Hazel slipped her fingers out of you as gently as you could, and you gasped at the sudden emptiness. You removed your trembling legs off Hazel’s shoulders, pulling her down by her shoulders so she was cuddled up on top of you.
“Hazel,” you whispered again, heart still beating like crazy, mind foggy in the best way possible. She kissed you, and you could taste yourself on her tongue. It was surprisingly hot. When you pulled away, you both let out a breathless chuckle.
“Was that okay?” she asked, brushing some of your messed up hair out of your eyes. You laughed in disbelief.
“That was- that was the hottest thing that I could have ever imagined,” you replied.
“Oh,” Hazel laughed, flushing a deep red. As if she was getting shy now. “Hey, I have a question.”
“Yeah?” you asked, fiddling with the chain resting at her neck. Your eyes met, and your stomach exploded with butterflies.
“Can this be- can this be strings attached now? Please?” Hazel asked nervously. You giggled, crushing your lips together. She let out a noise of surprise, but then kissed you back passionately. When you pulled away, you kissed the top of her nose, and she scrunched up her face.
“God yes,” you said breathlessly. Hazel held her hand out for you to shake with a playful smile, and you both laughed as you took it and shook it.
“Deal,” she joked.
“Now that’s out of the way…” you said softly, and Hazel raised an eyebrow, wondering where this was going. You rolled over suddenly, so you were on top of her now, hands intertwined above her head. “Your turn.”
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