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wandasaura · 9 months ago

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TOO IN LOVE TO THINK STRAIGHT

summary — when you mention to your dominants that you want to further explore the dynamics of your relationship, they’re all for it

warning(s) — established relationship, married wandanat, dom/sub dynamics, exploration of non-sexual bdsm, purposefully triggered subspace, implied mommy kink (never said), implied daddy kink (also never said), brief mention of sensory overstimulation, literal fluff to the fullest extent possible, men/minors dni

authors note — i committed to the lyric titles too hard, but wonderland perfectly describes this fic! daddy nat lovers, i see you

you are in love universe

♥️⊹ ˚ . 18+, men/minors dni ⁺ 𓈒 ꒰💌꒱ ♡ ･ mommy maximoff ✧

“Are you excited?” The soft vibrations have become a fond sensation as you peer out of the car window and admire all of the buildings that you pass. You’re not in the best area, one of the worst actually, but you find something so calming about the construction crowded roads and graffiti covered storefronts. You’ve been stuck in bumper to bumper traffic for the last half hour, a plethora of detours and u-turns standing in your way of where you really wanted to be, but every time Natasha eases her foot back onto the gas and shoots between lines of cars that don’t have the balls to make the move themself, you hum in contentment. You’re okay with being stuck if you’re stuck with them.

They’d been promising you this day for months, and although it had been canceled two weeks ago when you came down with an unexpected cold that left you miserable and bed-ridden for three days, it was finally here. There was no time left for another extenuating circumstance to push the date back farther. You hadn’t stopped bouncing in the backseat since Wanda had affectionately buckled your seatbelt, your fingerprints are smeared against the backseat window from how you point out the exit signs that mean your destination is growing closer. Natasha had long since stopped asking you to refrain from touching the glass she kept spotless, looking back at you through the rear-view mirror with fondness whenever a lull in speed occurred. Now was one of those moments. The line of cars all waiting to merge back onto the Garden State Parkway kept the car still, the break was applied heavily and wasn’t going to be let off soon. Unlike the other times she had looked back at you, she craned her entire body now, and you grinned at the easy way about her expression.

Your fingers left behind the glass of the backseat driver side window to press firmly against the tip of her nose, wanting to see it scrunch up in annoyance like it always did when you poked it. Natasha was less compliant with your need for physical touch then Wanda was, but she allowed you small victories every once in a while. Today was one of those days where everything seemed to fly. You had eagerly pulled her around the house all morning, sat in her lap at breakfast, and all but forced her to help you dress when you decided picking the perfect outfit was too hard to do on your own. The women had immaculate taste in fashion, you supposed it was something that needed to come with their high-profile occupations, but you’d never complain about them making your old clothes look fresh and new without adding anything tasteless or unnecessary. You hadn’t wanted to be apart from her since your eyes had peeled open at seven, the excitement in your belly too strong to ignore despite Wanda telling you that you wouldn’t be leaving the house until eleven. You were so beyond grateful that Natasha had been serious about taking you out when her and Wanda’s schedules allowed, that it didn’t matter to you if your earlier than usual wake up time meant having a full four hours to merely sit around and wait.

You nodded your head at her simply asked question, bearing a smile that compiled a list of words you’d be happy enough to use in a sentence if she so desired. She didn’t though, you knew she was well aware of how excited you were and was merely pulling your leg because she herself was bored. There was no way she could be oblivious to your hyperactive movements when your feet kicked the back of her seat every handful of minutes, but she’d not asked you to stop only rolled her eyes in fond exasperation and murmured to Wanda about the copious amounts of fingerprints and scuff marks she’d have to tend to later. Natasha and traffic were not things that should exist in the same sentence. For as patient as the woman was, she quickly lost her composure when ‘assholes in black hondas don’t know what the fucking speed limit is’. The first time she’d bellowed in annoyance you’d shook your head and giggled into your hand, your eyes connecting with Wanda’s who had glanced back at you in a silent threat to not egg Natasha on further. You’d tried to keep your amused reactions to yourself after that, but it was hard not to laugh at Natasha’s annoyance for anyone going under eighty miles an hour; especially considering the speed limit was only sixty-five.

The drive wasn’t meant to be any longer than an hour and a half, Wanda had meticulously gone over each and every available route before she’d loaded you and Natasha up in the car, but construction hadn’t been something to consider while she was planning your departure. It seemed every major highway and backroad was under construction lately, even the roads that led down to the shore in Westview. You didn’t mind it, occasionally pointing out the names of the yellow vehicles as you passed them, but you worried how little time you’d have to explore as the second hour of driving came and passed. When your legs grew restless, you settled for sitting cross-legged in the backseat, your elbows pressing firmly against your knees as you craned your neck to see between the head-rests on the couples seats. The sky was open and blue, no trace of clouds but apparent wind. The trees on either side of the road rustled with the flow of the breeze, and if you stayed just quiet enough, you could hear it howling outside of the windows. The sight of wind was a ploy to get unsuspecting people out of their houses. The weather was hot and humid, temperatures climbing into the low hundreds, but your destination was indoors, so thoughts about how you’d melt beneath the sun didn’t have valid reasons to come.

Wanda’s eyes locked on yours when Natasha eased onto the gas again, pulling off the exit ramp like a bat out of hell and dodging oncoming traffic that honk and scolded her boldness. You giggled when a particular car just to your left raised their hand at her, a single finger pointed toward the sky. She was unaffected, returning the gesture with passion. Your smile fell off your lips when your gaze shuffled over to meet Wanda’s, and the Sokovian looked at you with displeasure. “Feet on the floor.” Wanda reprimanded when she knew she had your attention, and you sighed but complied with the request. “We'll be there soon. Why don’t you tell me about what you're most excited to see?”

That had inspired a full tangent of thoughts that were only half complete to spill from your lips like rushing water off a cliff, but neither Wanda or Natasha had tried to interrupt you and get the full version of your story. They were happy enough to listen to you ramble nonsensically, your fingers twisting together in your lap out of pure elation that you had no other way to express. Wanda was simply content with knowing that should Natasha crash, you were sitting properly in the backseat. It wasn’t another half hour before Natasha was grabbing a ticket from the machine at the entryway of the parking garage and pulling into a reserved spot on the very first level by the exit. You’d known they would go all out for today, they always did, but it never failed to make you feel incredibly special to be getting such attentive treatment from two of the most willing and powerful women in the world. You flew out of the car before Natasha even had the engine off, feet not even hitting the pavement beneath you entirely before you raced around the back of the Stingray so you could pull Wanda’s door open for her. You bounced excitedly on your toes throughout the entire exchange, grinning up at her with an expression of complete innocence. The Sokovian smiled down at your adoringly, capturing your face in her gentle hands and pulling you just close enough for your forehead to fall against her lips.

“Such an excited little duckling.” Wanda mused with gentle laughter, her breath warm and thin as it fanned across your temple and shot sparks of pleasurable admiration through your belly and across your spine. You would’ve stayed permanently fixed on her tender expression had you not heard Natasha’s door swing closed. Your eyes trailed over the top of the car until they met the sight of her, dressed casually in a white t-shirt and jean shorts, her red locks had been pulled up and away from her face in a fleetingly worn ponytail that swung behind her head with every subtle move her body made. You could drool over the sight of her, but there were other priorities at the forefront of your mind.

“Can we go now? Please?” You bounced eagerly beneath their transfixed stare, your hands grabbing eagerly at Wanda’s who still had a soft grip on your cheeks. You knew the rules of walking in busy parking lots well, and although they’d made you feel like an incapable child at one point, you adored and craved them now. The lawyers reminded you so often that just because you are a capable adult, doesn’t mean you have to act like one when they’re there to take care of you. You let them take control easily now, no willingness to fight left to linger in your instincts, even in something as simple as finding your way through busy parking lots.

A smirk splayed across Natasha’s lips as she approached you and Wanda, her hand shoving her phone and wallet into one of the back pockets of her denim shorts. You should be ashamed for finding the simple action so attractive, but you didn't. You'd stopped letting yourself feel embarrassment for merely noticing their beauty long ago, and greedily your eyes trailed over the muscles in her shoulder and bicep that flexed as she reached toward her back. Natasha chuckled knowingly, sending a wink in your direction before she purposefully flexed her biceps. You wanted to roll your eyes and tell her to knock it off, but Wanda had beaten you to the punch and sent her wife an exasperated hit to the gut. “I don’t know, malyshka. Can we?” Natasha answered your earlier question, letting her feet carry her impossibly close to Wanda’s side. You wanted to groan aloud when the Russian’s hand slid comfortably into the back pocket of the Sokovian’s denim shorts, but you were too excited to dwell on the fact that Wanda’s ass had definitely just been squeezed roughly and possessively.

“Yes.” You made the executive decision with a curt nod of impatience, already setting your pace toward the exit, dragging Wanda behind you with rushed steps. It was the exact opposite of what she intended to happen when she’d first implemented the rule of wanting you to hold either her or Natasha’s hands in busy spaces. You were now the one leading her around by the hand, and quite blindly if she wanted to put it nicely. You’d hardly noticed when you led her body straight into a traffic cone, her feet just barely able to avoid tripping over the bright orange safety measure. Natasha had to stifle her laughter as she followed, her hand still in Wanda’s pocket and effectively pulling the Sokovian in two different directions as she remained a couple of steps behind.

Wanda placed a firm hand overtop of your wrist, catching your attention as you looked back at her with a whine of impatience toward the back of your throat, ready to be unleashed if she didn’t make whatever she needed quick enough for your standards. You were almost there, almost to the long line of parents and children that wrapped themselves around the building in an unruly line. You could see the electric blue sign on the top of the structure perfectly, the artwork on the sides of the building visible but intercepted by bobbing heads and tall bodies. Her abrupt stopping when you were so close to where you desperately wanted to be was the cruelest thing that had ever happened to you. “Why don’t you leave the dragging around to me, lyubov’. Unless you want me to end up in the infirmary before you even get to see the sharks.”

You groaned at her teasing, a fierce blush crawling up your neck that couldn’t be blamed by the unforgiving heat. You didn’t let her words sink beneath your skin however, deciding that pulling at her hand was effective enough. “Will you hurry up then?” You groaned, smirking victoriously when Natasha laughed at your antics and placed a kiss on the top of your head.

“Yes, milaya. We can go.” Wanda rolled her eyes but agreed with your demand, already beginning to set your pace at a significantly slower speed before the rest of her sentence even lingered in the air for your ears to pick up on. You practically skipped beside her, a broad smile on your face as you once again droned on and on about everything you couldn’t wait to see and have. Natasha had promised you a stuffed animal from the gift shop, knowing that you’d never had many in childhood. You’d decided that today would be one of the first times you explored your dynamic outside of the house, and the Slavic women were sparing no experience in giving you the purest taste at reclaiming your lost childhood. It felt too good to be true, to just surrender your conscious mind and let them take control, but you found yourself submitting to them easily. They wanted to do this for you, they enjoyed playing up their roles in this aspect. It was still hard to grasp that something that could be so kinky in bed could also be so pure outside of it, but they were allowing you to learn at your own speed, and selfishly they loved how inexperienced you were. There was no former training to unwind from your beliefs, there was no burned skin around your heart that had been failed by somebody else. You were fully theirs to shape, and they intended to show you the purest sides of this dynamic.

You frowned when Wanda began to lead you toward the front of the building, getting farther and farther away from the long line of people waiting their turn to enter. Toddlers pointed at you and tugged on their parents arms, not so quietly wondering why they couldn’t follow you and go around the line. A blush settled onto your cheeks when a little girl, no older than six, tugged at who you assumed was her fathers hands and boldly declared that you were ‘cutting’. Natasha and Wanda were in their own little world it seemed, laughing and talking with one another in quick Russian that you couldn’t comprehend, not batting a blind eye to the whispered accusations that were being pointed at you.

“The lines back there.” You whispered albeit a little self-consciously, not wanting to draw attention to yourselves anymore than the redheads adoring your waist already had. The sight of you together dripped with wealth. The diamond studded Chopard watch on Wanda’s wrist dazzled in the sunlight, the yellow gold Tiffany hoops in Natasha’s first piercing swayed when the breeze caught them. You looked properly out of place amongst the parents and young children all waiting in line.

Wanda stopped walking at your timid statement, looking down at you with a look that could only be described as dominating. It wasn’t hard, wasn’t demanding, but rather apologetic and soft. You felt entirely small beneath her sage green stare. “What did you want to try today?” Wanda reminded you softly, her body language not portraying the suggestiveness behind her quiet words. To any of the parents standing feet away, it looked like she had simply paused to ask you a well-intended question, which you supposed was true, but it wasn’t as innocent as it appeared.

You deflated slightly, leaning into the touch Natasha had placed on the small of your back minutes ago. You were becoming fuzzy, a feeling you’d associated with rough sex, but there hadn’t been any of that today. The closest thing to having their bodies had come when Natasha pulled you into a bruising kiss before you left the house. “Letting you have control.”

Wanda hummed, content with your answer, knowing that once again she had full control. Her fingers that always seemed to be perfectly polished ghosted over your cheek, and you could assume she’d attempted to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear like she always did, but today your hair had been tied back into two french braids that Natasha had suggested. “So let Mommy worry about where the line is. That’s not something for little girls like you to be concerned about.”

You nodded softly, unable to help the rush of something sweet that further propelled the dizziness in your mind forward at the Sokovian’s dismissal. Although you didn’t resume your skipping like you had been doing when Wanda guided you across the street, your footsteps came lightly and with a bounce as you became lost in the simple action of counting the many cracks that adorned the sidewalk as you stepped over them. At some point, your hand had grabbed Natasha’s, and you swung your arms back and forth absentmindedly. The day was hot, unforgivingly so, and the natural flush across your cheeks was becoming annoying. You were ready to start vocalizing your discomfort when Wanda guided you inside of the aquarium, saving her the headache of listening to you whine about something she couldn’t control.

You gawked at the sight of light blue painted walls and elaborate glass tanks that held any color coral you could imagine. The front desk was a giant fish tank, and little orange and white clownfish swam around the enclosure blissfully. You were practically vibrating beside Natasha as you looked around at the little details that had been incorporated into the entrance of the building. The ceilings were high, and painted across them were sharks and whales and every kind of fish you could even imagine. There was no embarrassment when you pulled at Natasha’s hand and let your own little finger shoot up to the ceiling, excitedly pointing out a boesemani rainbow fish that swam beside a hammerhead. Wanda had gone to check you in for your reservation, or at least you assumed that was what she was doing as she stood closely to the front desk and nodded at the teenager behind the counter. His eyes briefly flashed over to you when he noticed your head craned toward the ceiling and overheard your loud exclamation, but Wanda must’ve said something that made his attention snap back to her just as quickly as it had left.

“Inside voices, dorogaya.” Natasha smiled sweetly at your excitement, having no real issue with the volume that you had spoken at before, but she knew it would bother you if you caught onto the lingering stares of judgemental adults who couldn’t possibly understand that not everything was meant solely for children. You had just as much of a right to enjoy these little things as the toddlers who ran free, but she couldn’t change everyone's opinion even with her deadly glare.

Your cheeks flushed pink, and not because of the blistering sun, but you nodded to her request and tried not to let it sting. You’d been told all your life that you were too loud, reprimanded by your mother until you’d just fallen silent. You knew she hadn’t meant it in any particular way, but some things still struck a chord in your heart. The crushing feeling hadn’t lasted long, too comfortable in Natasha’s presence to dwell in self-consciousness. Your eyes went back to trailing all of the open space that you could see, and when they landed on a particular tank beside the single hallway that led into the larger room that veered off in several separate directions, you attempted to jut off. A whine rippled through your chest when your hand was squeezed and Natasha didn’t follow you forward, cemented in the place where you’d been instructed to wait for Wanda.

“Seahorses!” You tugged at her hand, earning you a disproving expression complete with a single raised eyebrow. You sulked back toward her, giving the tank one last sad glance before you focused down on your shoes, a frown on your lips.

“What are we meant to be doing, hm?” Natasha didn’t allow you to keep your gaze transfixed on your shoes, one of her slender and ring adorned fingers guiding your chin upward until your eyes flickered to hers. Her heart clenched at the sad frown that clung to your features that had been so happy not even seconds ago, but she didn’t let your pout sway her decision. After all, Wanda had given you a clear direction, and she expected that you follow it. “Can you tell me what we’re meant to be doing?”

You sighed, glancing back over at Wanda who looked to be wrapping up whatever conversation she’d been having with the teenager behind the counter. “Waiting for Wands.” The words slipped past your lips softly, your eyes trailing back over to Natasha’s. “But there’s seahorses.”

“And the seahorses will still be there when Wands is done. We’re gonna have our listening ears on today, aren’t we?” Natasha was really laying it on thick, even she knew that, but it was hard to help herself when you looked so soft and pliant standing in front of her dressed in an outfit that she picked out. You nodded your head, shuffling into her embrace, sadness still tainting your features.

Natasha kisses the top of your head, wrapping her arms around your torso as she lets you have your feelings against her chest. She knows they’ve been guiding you into a stage of subspace all day, it had been perfectly intentional, but how you handle it is still a wildcard. Much to your misconception, subspace wasn’t always brought on by getting railed, as you liked to refer to it as. Any form of submission could send you down that rabbit hole, including following instructions; which you’d been doing all day. Subspace wasn’t about the weight of the scene or how badly your body ached afterward, it was just about trust and the right amount of guidance. They’d been doing something right, and Natasha could recognize the glassy sheen over your eyes as you peaked up at her and then over toward Wanda who was finally, finally, walking back toward you.

The Sokovian had three brightly colored bands in her hands, her lips curled into a bright grin that crinkled her eyes. She stopped just in front of Natasha, effectively blocking you from view as she felt the eyes of the teenager behind the counter try to burn into your form. “What’s with the frown?”

“Seahorses.” You pouted up at her, much to Natasha’s amusement. The Russian’s hand ran over your back soothingly, though she couldn’t fight her bright smile when you again tried to wiggle out of her arms and rush over to the cylinder tank now that Wanda was back in sight.

“She wasn’t very pleased that you asked us to wait for you.” Natasha filled in the gaps, your explanation rather vague and rushed; if you could even call the one word response you gave much of an explanation at all. “Why don’t you tell Wands what kind of fish you found on the ceiling?” Natasha nudged you, prompting your attention onto something other than seahorses. You beamed at the excuse to ramble again, your finger pointing up to the ceiling like it did the first time, and even if Wanda couldn’t follow your finger to the specific fish she was meant to be looking at, she smiled encouragingly.

“It’s a boesemani rainbow fish! They get brighter when they get older!” You laughed, your pouty face no longer a visual that filled the entrance of the aquarium. Wanda had not the slightest care in the world for the fish you were pointing to, but she praised your knowledge either way. She’d pretend to care about anything if it meant seeing that bright smile linger on your lips even after the words stopped coming. “Can we see the seahorses now?”

Already anticipating how the rest of the afternoon was going to play out, Wanda laughed at your eagerness but nodded her head. You were just out of Natasha’s grip when she captured you in hers. This time, you did whine, sad eyes stuck on the tank in the corner of the room. Neither redhead could blame you for your distress when you’d been intercepted on your way to the seahorses twice now, and so neither scolded you for the sharp sound that reached their ears. “What are the rules if you’re not holding mine or Natty’s hand?” Wanda quizzed softly, her voice taking on a tone that had made you weak in the knees too many times. It was a voice Natasha called her ‘Mommy Voice’, which usually led to the Russian getting slapped upside the head when Wanda overheard.

“Stay where you can see me.” You bounced on your toes, still pulling at Wanda’s hand and glancing between her and the seahorses with a desperate plea in your wide and glassy eyes. “Please!”

She nodded at you with encouragement, smiling fondly when you raced over to the tank, carefully not to place your hands on the glass though it was already smudged with little fingerprints and what could only be assumed to be saliva. You marveled at the seahorses that bobbed in the water, illuminated by an electric blue strip of lights that made the gradient of colors on their bodies pop. You would’ve stayed staring at the seahorses all afternoon had Natasha not been the one to softly guide you away after five minutes of soft oohing and awwing. There were so many more tanks and creatures to see, she didn’t want you wasting any more of your time on just one tiny tank. You’d been upset about her gentle hands guiding you away until you’d turned a corner and spotted a tank of hippos in the distance. Your eager hand had pulled her through the crowd with Wanda following hot on your heels.

You showed the same level of excitement at every tank and exhibit, which neither lawyer thought was possible. There was no lull in your squeals and shrieks, and both of their wrists hurt by the time they sat you down for a late lunch. You’d abided by their every rule, including the ones that seemed stupid to you, what was so wrong about falling into the penguin exhibit, it was an easy enough climb back over the thin glass barrier? They’d expected lunch to go smoothly, you’d been so well behaved that they’d even considered buying you ice cream first, but unfortunately for them, the small cafe in the heart of the aquarium was directly beside the shark exhibit.

“Milaya, we will see the sharks after we eat.” Wanda cooed sweetly for the umpteenth time, trying not to let her face crack as she contemplated just giving into your pleas. Their firm voices and whispered praise had guided you into what Natasha referred to as the ‘sweet spot’. You weren’t so blissfully fuzzy that you couldn’t comprehend their words, but you were beyond the point of making a rational decision, and listening seemed to fall into that category as you struggled against Wanda, eyes fixed on the large sign that comically had a massive bite mark in the side. It was the little things that lingered throughout the building that made it more immersive, like the stickers on the floor in the shape of penguin footprints that lead to their enclosure, and the bite mark in the sign that led to the sharks. Your eyes searched to find every little detail that anyone else would overlook.

“I want to see them now.” Your crestfallen face was enough to weaken the reserve both redheads had been putting forth since your little meltdown had started. They hated to think that had you not been so high on endorphins and adrenaline, you never would’ve expressed how much you enjoyed all the little things that the aquarium had to offer, but they were still working to earn this level of trust from you when peptides weren’t at an all time high. With your head firmly planted in subspace, there wasn’t a single insecure feeling prickling beneath your skin. You were utterly free, control sitting in their hands and they had to force themselves to remember that.

“Not now, detka.” Natasha stepped in, guiding you toward the only empty table in the cafe. Your lips were turned downward in a persistent frown, but by some miracle, you’d actually sat down on the chair and let Wanda name out the options on the menu. It was no surprise to either of them that you pointed toward the chicken tender basket, but it was good enough for them to fulfill your request immediately.

Wanda left to order the food while Natasha kept you occupied at the table, ensuring that you didn’t start to fall out of the state they’d been working you into all day. She offered praise when you answered her little questions about the fun facts you’d been reading on all of the displays, and she tutted disapprovingly when your fingers ripped apart a napkin that some other family had left on the table. When Wanda came back with a tray of three chicken tender baskets because it felt wrong to eat any of the seafood that was offered, you were firmly engaged in a conversation about the stingrays that had been yet to be spotted. You’d explored more than half of the aquarium, finding out that the pink band around your wrist was a pass to all of the activities that lingered around. You’d fed the penguins, given the seals high-fives, and watched a 4D movie that made absolutely no sense, but had dispensed bubbles and sprays of water that were fun enough. All that was left to do was walk the roped path overtop of the shark exhibit, but that didn’t sound like something you wanted to put your faith in, even if hundreds of people did it every day. You, nor Wanda, would be walking across a shark infested tank, though Natasha had plans to do it herself. She’d always been the more daring of the couple.

When your lunch was finished, or when your lunch was picked over enough for Wanda and Natasha to set you free again, you wasted no time in grabbing both of their hands and zipping through the families that stood in your way. You’d been too distracted with the bamboo sharks to hear Wanda mutter to Natasha about how your crowd direction was just as bad as her driving, but you’d turned around in time to watch Natasha roll her eyes and whack Wanda’s bicep.

In your fuzzy headspace, their rules engraved in your mind, one of them being to show respect to others, you frowned and settled both hands onto your hips. “You broke rule number six!” You stated rather angrily, stalking up to Wanda with long strides that didn’t match the innocence in your eyes. You kissed her arm softly, the place where Natasha had hit her engraved in your mind.

“Yeah Natty, you broke rule six.” Wanda’s amusement wasn’t so easily hidden in her tone as her lips curled into a smile and she pulled you into her chest, settling a kiss onto the top of your head as you both sent glares toward Natasha. Yours was littered with a protectiveness that almost outshone the glassy gleam that had settled, Wanda’s however, was riddled with enjoyment and humor. “What should she do, detka?” Wanda giggled, leaning down to whisper in your ear though it was loud enough for Natasha to hear, and the redhead was just barely keeping the smile off her face as she watched you and Wanda conspire against her.

“She’s gotta say sorry!” They’d noticed that in your fuzzy state, you’d shied away from the bigger words that slipped into your vocabulary normally. You weren’t yet at a point where communicating your needs was impossible, but you weren’t actively fighting to clear your head and search for words like apologize and blasphemy either. Natasha would never forgive Yelena for throwing that word around so often you’d started to pick up on it.

“Well?” Wanda jutted out her hip, placed a perfectly manicured hand just above where her bone rested. You mimicked her stance, though you were significantly less threatening than Wanda with your french braids messy from the humidity that drafted in from windows, and your baby blue colored corset shirt that was adorned with intricate lace patterns and ribbons that tied the back together.

“Ona razob'yetsya v mashine.” Natasha hummed, and although you knew enough Russian to know that wasn’t an apology she had uttered to Wanda, no, it was a very true statement that you’d crash in the car on the way home, the Sokovian had accepted it and laughed.

Despite your excitement to see the sharks, you didn’t hang around the exhibit for long. There were too many people and you seemed to become overstimulated more easily when you were flush full of endorphins, so Wanda had been the one to lead you away toward tanks of lobsters and jellyfish. She started walking down the hallway, leaving you with Natasha, wanting to find a sign that could lead the three of you toward the stingrays because she knew you wouldn’t enjoy the aquarium for much longer. It had been hours, and in your sensitive headspace, the bright lights and sounds were quickly becoming too much to handle. You’d been so brave, trying this out with them and trusting them fully, but Wanda wasn’t about to compromise your happiness for a few more hours of mindless walking from room to room when you’d already seen everything that interested you. All she cared about was making sure you had a good time, even if she thought aquariums were savagely overpriced now.

Wanda frowned when Natasha found her way over to her without you. Her eyes flickered around the long hallway, searching for your blue top that stood out brightly against the sea of other colors that adults and children wore. It was such a specific shade that even if seventeen other people all crowded around to watch jellyfish bob had blue on, you stuck out like a sore thumb. “Where’s Y/N?” Wanda questioned and Natasha frowned.

“I thought she was with you.” The Russian quickly realized that no matter how many times she spun around in circles, you weren’t anywhere in sight. She distinctly remembered you telling her that you wanted to go with Wanda, so she hadn’t questioned when you walked off and toward the direction that the Sokovian had gone in. Natasha was properly panicked when thirty seconds went by and she still couldn’t spot you, but Wanda at least had the thought to check the next hallway before she let herself spiral too.

The stingray exhibit turned out to be in the next room over, crowded by kids and parents who talked about the sea creatures with excitement in their quiet tones. The occasional toddler bellowed in disgust when they realized how slick the back of a stingray was, but for the most part, the room only vibrated because of the sheer number of voices that occupied it, not because of volume. You were hunched over the edge, elbows deep into the shallow water when Wanda and Natasha spotted you. Each let out a sigh of relief, but nothing was going to stop them from marching over to you and pulling you away from the water.

“What were the rules, milaya?” Wanda asked you, her voice not as soft as it had been all day, but not hard either. They’d never been out of the house while you were lingering in subspace, and though they never wanted to lose you, it hadn’t been something that never crossed their mind. You wandered away even when your head was clear, your lack of impulse control only heightened that need to trail off.

“Stingrays!” You beamed at Wanda, not taking into account the thin line that settled over her eyebrows as she peered down at you. Your excitement was cute, a telling indication that you really hadn’t meant to wander away and give them the scare of their life, but it wouldn’t get you out of the scolding Wanda had ready on the tip of her tongue.

“Not stingrays, utenok. What were the rules?” Natasha laid heavy emphasis on the last word of her question, and though your eyes were more glassy then she’d seen them all day, she could see the wheels turning as you tried to process her words.

“Oh.” You mumbled when you finally came to the conclusion, your shoulders deflating as your head dipped down and set your gaze on your shoes. “Sorry.”

Wanda, who had been prepared to dig into you, sighed softly and dropped the topic. She may be a stickler for the rules but she knew it would only cause further damage if she laid into you about listening. Your disappearing hadn’t been intentional, and even she could see the tears threatening to spill over as you brewed in your own feelings of disappointment.

“I want you holding my hand, dorogaya.” She instructed firmly, “No more walking by yourself. We don’t wanna lose such a sweet little duckling, huh?” Wanda lifted your chin, smiling reassuringly down at you. Her rings caught the light, glimmering like a million little stars that cried to be released from the gold adorning her fingers. It was over after that, you’d fallen too deep into the sea of bliss to want anything other than her. You shuffled close, all thoughts of stingrays forgotten as you breathed in her scent. Sensing your loss of interest, Wanda shared a silent conversation with Natasha who nodded.

“Why don’t we go check out the gift shop?” Natasha claimed one of your hands, engangling you from Wanda before you could sink any deeper. They needed you coherent enough to get back into the car, and then you were free to settle deeply beneath the blanket of comfort they’d slowly been laying over top of you all day. Natasha held back on delivering any further praise, knowing it wouldn’t help you coming closer to the light.

She guided you through hallways and crowded rooms, occasionally squeezing your hand when you winced at crying babies and strong fishy odors. She herself was over the aquarium, but she’d been holding out for you. She was glad she didn’t have to fake her enthusiasm anymore, though Wanda was certainly getting a kick out of all the exasperated eyerolls the Russian hid from you.

The gift shop was practically empty when you shuffled inside, clinging to Natasha who didn’t mind the contact. She led you through rows of toys and puzzles, some not having any connection to the aquarium while others quite boldly sported the name in a thick black font. You found interest in none of it, which she couldn’t blame you for. Everything looked tacky and far too cheap to be as expensive as the prices on the shelves said, but still she guided you around encouraging you to pick something out. She’d promised you a stuffed animal, but when you finally reached the back wall where all the cuddly toys were lined up in rows, neither of you liked any. They were all filled with stuffing that was too stiff to cuddle, and you retracted your hand quickly when you reached out to touch one. Whatever had been used as fuzz was scratchy and coarse, and you hated it with a passion. Eventually, when Wanda came up to you holding a soft gray crewneck with an embroidered whale shark and the name of the aquarium on the front, you agreed to let it be purchased for you, and although it was still in the highest temperatures that New Jersey had seen all summer, you wore it out of the aquarium with a smile.

When you reached the car, there was no keeping you afloat any longer. Natasha had uttered the first bit of praise in minutes, and you surrendered fully to the warmth in your mind. Wanda smiled, usually the one who you attached to when you fell over the edge, but Natasha had been your chosen pick today.

“Just get in the back with her, Talia.” Wanda rolled her eyes after three minutes of Natasha trying to detach you from her arm, each attempt ending with whines and stomped feet as you tightened your grip.

Natasha sighed, able to count the number of times she’d let Wanda drive her car on one hand, but she wasn’t getting away from you right now, and she didn’t really want to anyway. “If you so much as leave one fingerprint on my radio you won’t be getting laid for a week, Maximoff.”

Wanda rolled her eyes, snatching the keys from Natasha’s outstretched hand and opening the driver's side door more aggressively than needed. If anyone was going to be leaving fingerprints it was Natasha, who could never decide which type of music she wanted to listen to. Seeing that you had gotten your way, you smiled up at Natasha with a grin that was only right to describe as cheeky. The Russian rolled her eyes and settled you into the backseat, shushing your protests when she strapped the seatbelt over your chest and made sure your feet were planted firmly on the floor.

She pulled you into her side when her own seatbelt was clicked into place, gently releasing your hair from the tight braids that had been twisted together all day. At the first pass of her fingers across your sensitive scalp, you all but melted into her chest and let your eyes flutter closed. It wouldn’t take six minutes before you were asleep against her chest, clutching desperately to the white t-shirt covering her torso. With the absence of your questions and excited statements, the car settled with silence, filled with only the sound of the engine revving when Wanda stepped on the gas.

“Did you have a good day, moya lyubov’?” Natasha asked, extending an arm to run over fingers over Wanda’s shoulder. She couldn’t see the Sokovian’s face, but she knew there was a satisfied smile settling over her lips.

“I did.” She breathed out softly, flicking the right blinker on when she merged onto the parkway, thankful that all the construction seemed to have been paused for the day and the road, though filled with typical traffic, was clear of any major dead stops. “Did you ever think we’d be here?” Although Wanda hadn’t been specific, Natasha knew she was referring to you. You were practically the sun in their own two planet universe, everything they did revolved around you now, but she wouldn’t have it any other way. Things got boring when it was merely her and Wanda in a universe void of endless light and warmth.

“I hoped.” Natasha kissed your temple softly, glad that she hadn’t stirred you awake.

When Wanda pulled into the driveway, you were still sound asleep and the sky was dark with nightfall. It was early to call it a night, but the couple did so without complaint. You settled into Natasha’s chest with only the aquarium crewneck on your body, and Wanda had shuffled into the space in bed where your body typically rested, laying her head down on Natasha’s shoulder and placed a heavy hand on the small of your back.

“Goodnight my little utenok.” She whispered into the thick stretch of silence before sleep overcame her too, and although the night carried on outside of your small bubble of peace, none of you had any idea.

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akutasoda · 8 months ago

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Could I request a PM! Dazai/Chuuya/Akutagawa x F! Reader who’s sort of like a parental figure but more of a wine aunt-type figure, I guess. She’s someone who’s blunt and rude, almost condescendingly, like she doesn’t care if she hurts someone’s feelings, but in a more “lady-like” manner. She’s someone with immaculate taste and wisdom beyond her years, so she serves as like a guardian angel of sorts just with a glass of wine and cigarette in her hands, plus she has that sort of sophistication with her mixed with a 1950’s style.

wine and wisdom

synopsis - how are they with a wine-aunt type of figure

includes - 15!dazai, chuuya, akutagawa

warnings - fem!reader, mentions of cigarettes and alcohol, fluff, wc - 700

taglist - @vi-chan07

osamu dazai ★↷

↪back when he first joined the mafia, he net you within a couple of days after mori would drop him off in your presence if he had to leave. he wasn't exactly surprised that you were slightly condescending and spoke your mind with little regard.

↪in honesty, he actually preferred it when mori left him under your supervision. you're blunt nature was more than tolerable and he enjoyed watching you offend people and not care how much you're words hurt them - yet still acting very 'lady-like'

↪he absolutely admired how wise and intelligent you were across a variety of things. you always answered his questions and would sometimes give him advice which he would willingly listen to. his favourite part was when you'd openly criticise mori himself.

↪he was never a fashion person but could admit you had a very stunning taste in clothes. if you ever tried to offer him a change in clothes he'd politely decline. he also never minded that you always seemed to have a glass of wine with you.

↪when he left the port mafia, you'd probably be someone that he'd think of. however, in some reality he wouldn't leave the port mafia - then he would still look to you for advice. but in both scenarios, you would be someone he admired through his childhood.

chuuya nakahara ★↷

↪when he first saw you it was in a passing in a hallway and he immediately mistook you for kouyou. he would do a doubletake ablnd realise you were a completely different person. ironically, kouyou introduced him properly to you the following week.

↪he would still be in the first couple of weeks of being in the port mafia when he properly met you, so he was quite taken back by how blunt you were when you addressed him. not hesitating to find something about him to criticise.

↪as kouyou promised him, he got used to it - although to this day he could still be surprised by how straightforward you could be. in some way he actually admired how little you cared for how your words affected people because most of the time you were only telling the truth.

↪another thing he could admire about you was wise you were. he could come to you with any question or query and you would give him a solution or answer. your intelligence was something he strived to gain.

↪as he grew up with you around, he kind of derived his taste from you - or you atleast influenced his style. he would note that you always had immaculate sense of style, an older style but you always pulled off all your outfits.

↪when he thought back to it, he couldn't actually recall a time where he didn't see you with a glass of wine or a cigarette... even if you engaged in a battle...

ryūnosuke akutagawa ★↷

↪akutagawa mainly only got very few interactions with you when he first joined the mafia, each and every one was because dazai would seek you out and he'd follow. to him it seemed like dazai liked you and so naturally he wanted to know you.

↪it never went unnoticed to him that you always carried around a glass of wine or such but he didn't care. he aslo didn't really care for how you dressed, your sophisticated style seemed extra to him but that didn't mean he wouldn't admit it worked.

↪he could see why dazai looked up to you. your wisdom truly held no bounds and akutagawa would start copying dazai in asking you questions that you always had answers to.

↪additionally when he first met you, he felt quite insulted when you noticed him and started really letting your thoughts run wild. he quickly came to get used to how blunt and rude you could be. your condescending tone eventually becoming normal to hear.

↪even know a part of him held admiration toward you - not as much as held for dazai but it was close. to this day you still held a rude word toward anyone and had that same olden style that worked flawlessly accompanied by your glass of wine.

#x reader #x fem reader #x female reader #x fem!reader #bsd x reader #bungo stray dogs x reader #bungo stray dogs x you #bsd x you #bsd x female reader #bsd dazai osamu #dazai x fem reader #dazai x reader #bsd chuuya #chuuya x fem!reader #chuuya x reader #bsd akutagawa #akutagawa x reader

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mostlyghostlyy · 2 months ago

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Having a bad time after watching a movie that made me terribly uncomfortable. How would Dale react to that? I know he’s probably be a little bad at comforting but, I need his big arms around me. I’m grossed out and sad by a stupid movie.

It's Britney bitch

Dale would be so giddy. Ecstatic and keening. Watching your outpouring of emotion triggers elated gasps and poorly hidden giggles. Bleary-eyed and quivering voice while you complain about how the movie made you feel, he'll eat it up. If only you could see how sensitive you look right now, absolutely immaculate.

I can't imagine he'd take his hands off of you, kissing at your face and tasting the salt of your tears. I think he'd get pretty turned on by your flushed cheeks and fluttering wet lashes. Many of these nights will end with him "comforting" you in the only way he knows how (if you know what I mean)

I think he'd try to comfort you to an extent. Loving how you cling to him for protection or comfort. "There, there, Little Angel," smiling smugly and rubbing circles into your back. "It's just a movie." All the while relishing the attention you're lathering on him, hanging off his every word. If the movie was about a lover dying/breaking up, he'll promise you over and over that he would never leave (and you better do the same for him)

The first time he sees you tear up, he'd probably be at a loss for words/actions. Awkwardly putting his arm around you with a gentle word of comfort. Only when you cling to him does he start to warm up to his newfound role. Deciding that he likes this attention and maybe he should start looking for more sappy and sad movies.

#i live!!!..... but not for long #writing? blocked. reading? dyslexic. sleep? nonexistent.#longlegs #longlegs x reader #ask #dale kobble #dale kobble x reader #its short but sweet. i dont want to cheap out on any of my beloved asks. Hopefully this reads well!

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royalsunshinehotel · 9 months ago

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Filthy smut abt jay/anwar with a dom gf that makes them genuinely overstimulated up to shivering/quivering point 🧍🧍🧍

Loml (Jay x f!reader, 18+)

Hey you 💕 It's my birthday today and I'm not having a good one. I've requested one fic for Jay Menha before and it was perfect! If was wondering if I can request another Jay fic? It can be whatever you want. Thank you, so, sooo much for bringing me such joy with your Rahul Kohli and Dev Patel fics 💜💜💜💜💜

A/N: It could be longer, could be filthier, but I'm still getting back into the swing of things. Enjoy xx

Jay Menha, since the moment you met, had been the epitome of a good boy. This had been demonstrated through your years-long relationship at him somehow finding a way to get every door for you. He carried your bags whenever his hands were free, and for you, they'd always be free.

And now he was underneath you, fighting for his life.

You didn't remember how exactly this disagreement started, but you weren't exactly wracking your brain to figure out how. He was completely bare underneath you, and you'd had the fantastic idea of keeping his member between the folds of you. He'd finished just a minute ago, stick and wet between the two of you, and you weren't intending on letting up.

Jay was so pretty when he pants, when he begs for you.

He leaned right up and you gave him a mean kiss, one that gets a loud, wet whine. He's so stoic, it's lovely that he can be safe with you. In a moment of inspiration, you take your teeth to his lower lip, and

He was throbbing, whining, trying not to let the frustration bubble up and out of him. You've got your fingers intertwined, tightly, as you ground down onto him

He was so pathetic, trying to speak. You knew Jay, better than anyone, and the look in his eyes when he was trying to get words out ... oh... he's such a romantic your heart could barely handle it.

Big, soft cow eyes staring up at you like you were the only woman in the world, wet eyes that want to promise you the moon, and deliver.

A dull squelch ekes out of your pussy, and it only makes you ride him harder, the pressure of your clit on the base of his cock? Immaculate.

The air was buzzing, Jay had long since lost track of time, the pleasant feeling under his skin, threatening to escape had taken hold.

Your lovely, your skin, your warmth your smell, and he smiled, which you return with all teeth, leaning down to bite his neck. You didn't stop until you tasted iron, just the way he likes.

You growled, like a proper succubus.

His moan was loud in your ear, his hair tickled your nose. He'd been letting it grow long, and you would never allow him to cut it again.

It was too much, and absolutely beautiful, feeling his hardness break into heat underneath you. Pathetic, you thought, what a sticky mess.

He twitched and shook under the prison of your thighs, gasping and twitching, fearing his heart would burst from his chest.

You'd nearly killed him, again. And you'd proceed to do so throughout the night.

You were absolutely evil, some sort of avenging goddess who saw fit to take what she wanted from him, and Jay fully intended to lay down and be of use to you.

That's all he wants really, to be of use to you.

#whatever souls are made of his and mine are the same #jay x reader #jay menha #the wedding guest #the wedding guest 2019 #sanjay menha #jay menha smut

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omegapheromone · 5 months ago

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Im gonna reblog this bc Null's take is so good!! Lots of really good additions I couldn't have provided myself, thank you so much for the input!! ^^

do you have any advice for someone who is struggling to figure out their misce identity?

personally i’ve always just assumed that i’m an omega (because i’m a smaller person and more submissive?) and gone with that, but after thinking about it more i really don’t think i am?

i think that i have a lot of “typical” or “normal” omega traits, but i feel much more like an alpha? so uhh yeah hopefully this isn’t too annoying

Hiya! Not at all annoying, this ask is a great opportunity for me to talk about some topics I've been wanting to talk about for a while, actually! I will write a longer post but here's everything, VERY shortly:

First of all, ask yourself why you ascribe specific traits or features to specific dynamics, and WHY in your mind being small and submissive means one HAS TO be an Omega. Does this mean that absolutely no omega ever can be tall, muscular, strong, dominant? Does this mean that not a single alpha ever can be small or submissive? Where did these mental associations come from? Could it be that you have subconsciously taken the most common and stereotypical fictional traits of "alphas and omegas", even if you know logically it doesn't work in real life, and are trying to force those stereotypes onto yourself? Would you tell anyone ELSE but yourself that they cannot be an alpha because they are small and submissive? Or would you tell anyone else that they cannot be an omega, because they are tall and strong and dominant? Or are these things you're only trying to force on yourself because you think you should fit some stereotype that's completely based on fictional characters?

My tone there isn't meant to sound harsh at all- I go WAY more in detail below, but the post is long, like, genuinely very long, and I'm just trying to summarize the simplest and most important point as concisely as I can in a string of questions to ask yourself- the point in ALL of this is that your identity should be dictated by what feels right and good to YOU, not what stereotype you fit into. People are always more complex than stereotypes, and if you feel more alpha, then that's all you need. Physical traits, personality, sexual preferences, etc- none of these things dictate what your dynamic is or should be.

That being said, I have to give a fair warning. This post WILL end up being LONG.

Another thing- I personally am an omega and have always identified as such, so I'm gonna tag @pack-the-pack and more specifically @miscealignment a.k.a. Null's more misce-focused blog- not only do I find his opinions interesting and generally insightful when it comes to all matters misce, but I think Null will probably have more to say about the alpha part specifically. I'd also like to tag @beta-adjacent for similar reasons! Further down, I'm going to talk about my own personal perceptions of the dynamics, and my point if view as an omega only goes so far, ESPECIALLY when I've never really questioned the fact that I am an omega, even when OTHER people have (more on that way, way later.)

With those out of the way, my actual response will be posted under the cut just so I don't clog anyone's dashboard too much! Once again, prepare for rambling and a LOT of text. Sorry in advance (；´∀｀)

About Misce- Your Mental Image;

a.k.a. let's start with a little imagination. ...or lack of, maybe?

Firstly, I would ask you to evaluate what you think of when you think about each of the dynamics. While you're completely free to your personal interpretation as is everyone, I tend to think that if your mental images look something like "Alpha=dom, top, strong, masculine", and "Omega=sub, bottom, feminine, dainty and emotional" and "Beta=side character", you're not REALLY looking at misce dynamics, rather, you're more thinking of a highly stereotypical and (subconsciously) heteronormative version of omegaverse that is (often) used almost exclusively only for the sake of making mpreg possible in m/m fiction. And to be clear, yet again: Misce is NOT Omegaverse.

This specific way of interpreting alpha/omega/beta dynamics is literally just straight people gender norms repackaged to be forced onto gay/queer people, and is not in any way realistic to 99.99% of irl gay/queer relationships, nevermind people. A lot of misce folks are also some flavour of lgbtq+ anyway, and you can see why it could become an issue to impose heteronormative roles onto people who do not, by definition, fit said roles. Here's what I mean:

"Alphas are tall, big and strong and handsome dominant leader types who provide for the physically weak, dainty and small and traditionally attractive, emotional, submissive omegas. Omegas bear and raise the children, while alphas work and earn money. Omegas are at a social disadvantage because of their dynamic, and alphas often benefit from theirs, therefore it's not unusual to see omegas being exploited by alphas. And Betas are the 'other people' who don't fit these roles, I guess."

Now switch "alpha" to man, and "omega" to woman, and read it again. (And for an extra spicy take, switch "beta" to "lgbtq+ folk"... just saying.) See what I mean?

This is a common portrayal in a LOT of omegaverse fiction regardless of what biological sex/gender the characters are, and I'm SURE you've seen portrayals like this many, many times. In fiction, there's nothing wrong with interpretations or depictions like this! I know some people are unable to read works of fiction critically and think that using portrayals like these is somehow inherently bad, and sure, this specific market is definitely oversaturated as well- but the thing is that for many authors and creatives, applying these existing (male and female) roles and forms of discrimination onto imagined secondary genders such as alphas and omegas is a way to explore gender discrimination, homophobia, misogyny, social issues, etc in writing. But the crucial part is that this ONLY WORKS IN FICTION. Omegaverse is fiction, so it's fine. But Misce is not fiction. Misce is identities and people.

About Misce- Identity, NOT Tropes Or Roles;

a.k.a. let's not base real people identities on fictional stuff (or sexual preferences, for that matter).

You cannot apply those previously discussed concepts to real, living people's identities. This much is obvious. Cathegorizing real people into "alphas are the strong and big and dominant ones", "betas are the in-between ones", and "omegas are the dainty and small and submissive ones" doesn't work and should never be done to begin with.

You also cannot cathegorize people based on their sexual preferences- "Alpha" does not automatically mean they top or dom. "Omega" does not automatically mean "bottom" or "sub". Beta does not automatically mean vers/switch. Sexual preferences are separate from dynamics, and you should not assume anything based on someone's dynamic to begin with. While misce has its sexual aspects to many, it's almost never ONLY sexual. In my experience, if anything, it's a very small part of being misce to most people I know.

This is all to say- your sexual preferences do not and should not determine your dynamic in any way- so whatever you like in bed should not make you feel like you need to identify with some specific dynamic. You could be the most submissive bottom on earth and be an alpha and that would not be weird or "wrong" or "strange". I think just about any misce person could tell you this- anyone who understands that misce ISN'T "just an irl larp of omegaverse", at least.

This is a good opportunity for me to segway into the next part- misce is based on a LOT more than "just" the most stereotypical omegaverse roles. For a lot of people, being misce connects to other forms of non-human identity, whether that's being otherkin, therian, alterhuman, whatever. I'm not actually all that familiar with those things, as I've never bothered getting involved or familiar with said communities. I've never felt human either, but I struggle to figure out the specifics of it so I just don't bother- I'm content like this, and don't feel the need to label it or try to "pick a specific animal" or whatever. I'm happy being just... a being (lol) and that's enough for me.

About Misce- Deeply Nonhuman Humans;

a.k.a. there are two wolves inside of you...

...However, I recognize that with this part- me not really feeling like my misce self is connected to animal-type nonhumanity specifically, I am NOT in the majority.

I believe "miscecanis" and "miscelupus" were the first(?) terms that utilized the now-popularized term "misce" in them, and they specifically refer to canines (any, but often dogs) and wolves. Considering omegaverse itself is also based on that (proven to be unreliable/misinformed) study on wolf pack structures from ages ago, it makes sense that many misce folk would also identify with canine-adjacent creatures- I do too, I just dislike using those labels since that's nowhere near the most notable part of my own sense of non-human-ness. But I digress. A lot of misce folk, especially ones who identify with specific animals, have created their own labels to match the animals they identify most with- miscelapin, miscevulpes, miscefelis, etc. The catchall term for most misce folk, esp ones who feel that their "animal-identifying side" is strongly connected to being misce, tends to be misceanimalis.

Personally, I just say "misce" since a non-animal-attached term doesn't seem to exist at the moment and to me, being an omega isn't necessarily a non-human animal-identity thing at all- but that's just me and I don't think there's a "right" or "wrong" way to personally interpret and "be" misce.

All that being said, generally, the misce community tends to lean towards a more instinct-based social model, pack dynamics and emotional/non-verbal etc communication. I think that much is pretty obvious anyway. So, naturally, the dynamics themselves are often interpreted through that lens- "what's the 'pack role' of any given dynamic?"

Generally, everyone has their own interpretation of this, and that's totally alright- misce looks a bit different for every individual, and definitions are fluid enough that the answer you get depends on who you ask. Speaking of which...

About Misce- Dynamics;

a.k.a. this is the part where podcast bros get so confused

So, while I'm going to now list a few generic concepts/roles/tropes/traits that TEND TO be associated with specific dynamics, just know that it's completely fine to interpret them differently and come up with your own stuff for your own identity. Misce stuff is generally kind of vague and definitions depend on the person you ask anyway- Should you ask someone else to explain what kind of traits they associate most with various dynamics, you might get a different answer- what, in my eyes, is a "commonly omega trait" might be a beta trait in someone else's mind, and so on.

These summaries are based on my own personal experiences combined with speculation, and include a lot of generalization in places- if you identify as any of these dynamics and feel that my description of said dynamic is "off" or not accurate to your lived misce experience, please know that I'm not at ALL saying your experience isn't valid, or that your identity as that dynamic is being questioned. As stated before- everyone defines things differently, and there is no right or wrong way to define or BE misce.

Also: I'm going to go through both positive and negative traits for each dynamic based on my personal observations of patterns I've noticed. I WILL include a "worst case scenario" thing about each dynamic, just to illustrate how sometimes traits may manifest as genuinely bad/abusive behaviours. Every dynamic is capable of being abusive and toxic, and there is no specific dynamic that is "more likely to be abusive" than the others.

☽ ALPHAS • [ α ] ☾

"Providers, protectors, guardians and defenders, responsible for the pack staying safe, well and the members having their needs met."

Often, alphas are seen as the more physical/tangible providers, "mirroring" the more emotional/psychological form of nurture provided by omegas (more on that later). This DOES NOT mean Alphas are always "the breadwinners"- it takes many forms. That COULD be working to provide a stable income and housing, sure, but it's equally as possible for an alpha to prefer being a homemaker- making food for the pack, cleaning and organizing, etc can be just as much a form of "providing" as working for an income could be. The distinction here is that where omegas commonly tend to show their care in a more emotional and intangible way, Alphas are (often, not always) the ones who will buy their friends little trinkets and souvenirs that remind the alpha of them, cook up meals to provide and ensure the physical wellbeing of their closest ones, offer to help with menial tasks and so on. It's all about trying to ensure the people closest to them are well, and doing what they can to keep it that way.

Alphas often get a reputation for being protective over their loved ones, and while in fiction, esp omegaverse manhwa/manga/webtoons/etc this tends to get portrayed as "possessive toxic masculinity" type tropes (looking at you, 'Terminus', 'Kiss me, liar' and 'Night by the sea'...) this also has many forms, and isn't at all limited to Alphas only.

Alphas DO tend to feel very responsible/protective over their friends and/or pack though, more than other dynamics do- a sort of "hurt me, I don't care, but hurt my friends, you're dead" type attitude is quite common to alphas in my experience, at least as an omega observer. From what I can tell, Alphas derive a lot of pride and satisfaction from being able to support and lift up those closest to them, and while generally Alphas aren't fond of conflict any more than any other dynamic, they usually WILL go to bat for their friends/pack, argue to ensure their friends are taken seriously, stand up for them, and so on. From what I've seen, at times, it's the Alpha that feels more upset over someone being nasty to said alpha's friend, than the friend is themselves.

Alphas are generally seen as the ones who take care of the physical needs and safety of the pack- "safety" makes it sound like they're out there fighting wild beasts and evil spirits or something, which isn't really the case when you think "modern world", but the point is they often strive to ensure that everyone they love feels safe and comfortable around them, and that sources of stress/anxiety/worry are removed. This could take the form of helping a friend pay their rent when a friend is broke and the Alpha is able to pitch in, or it could be helping someone fill out job applications if they're finding it overwhelming to do alone, or helping a depressed friend clean and cook so that they're less stressed out and are able to recover without the additional stress of having to plan and think about food and nutrition. It could be giving massages to help someone relax, or it could be letting a friend come over just to sleep at their place when the friend is struggling to feel safe on their own.

Basically- some personality traits I've noticed many of my alpha- and alpha-coded friends tend to have, would be that they're generally very caring people who tend to put those most important to them first before themselves. Often Alphas will step in to shield others from injustice and/or perceived threats without hesitation- be that unfair treatment or a stranger being a little too friendly at the club. Alphas may or may not talk about their problems openly, but the ones who do tend to only talk about the problems and how to solve or overcome them, NOT how it has made them feel and if they're feeling alright, but when/if they DO talk about their feelings more honestly, it's basically always a huge sign of trust and closeness. A majority of my alpha friends tend to be either gift-givers who love showing appreciation in the form of presents or homemade food, OR they're silent providers, whose doors are always open (within reason) and will always be there to provide a place for their friends to crash at when said friends just need a break somewhere safe and comfortable. Often, they're both. (Shoutout to my closest irl friend who is very alpha-coded and keeps telling me I can just go to his place to sleep if I want to get away from either family or loneliness at home in a diff city lmao. I always feel like far too much of a burden so I never have, but I genuinely appreciate the offers so much)

Alphas, at least based on my humble observations, have some fairly commonly shared negative traits as well, such as being the type to run themselves to the ground to ensure others are well (especially emotionally- it's a stereotype that Alphas are bad at expressing emotion, but it's somewhat true that often Alphas will try to avoid their own struggles and emotions by constantly rushing to care and provide for others instead of sitting down to feel their emotions lmao). Alphas tend to overwork themselves for the sake of others, and overall share a "neglect self for the sake of others" thing that omegas also have, just. Different flavour.

Some alphas do also tend to have a bit of an ego at times, especially pertaining to things they excel at, and can indeed get jealous of their friends/pack-mates/partners/etc. Occasionally, this manifests as a form of entitlement, often based on the alpha feeling like they've sacrificed so much for the person that they feel like they "deserve something in return". In most cases, it's nothing outrageous- just time, effort, and acknowledgement of all the effort, though I find that sometimes alphas tend to expect others to be able to "read the Alpha's mind" and just figure out what the Alpha needs without ever communicating it out loud (this could be due to a fear of being too "demanding" or too "overbearing" which many Alphas I've known have struggled with, likely specifically because that's often how Alphas get stereotyped, leading to most Alphas trying hard to show they are NOT like the stereotype. I can imagine it's a struggle!).

At times, Alphas may be prone to being sort of control-freaks about certain things. This usually isn't an issue for most, but it sometimes shows through in their personalities as being frustrated if things aren't done "the way they like, when they like". There's various reasons- for some, it's because they're used to doing things one way and feel that it is the best way, for others, it's a feeling of "knowing best", and for some, it's a sense of wanting to have control over how things are done or hoe they happen, because not having that control causes anxiety.

On the darker side of things, some alphas may become genuinely possessive over people, often subconsciously feeling like they're entitled to and feel that they have "claimed" a person, and feel that they should be able to decide things for said person/people. When this happens, it's usually also coupled with some degree of idolization/objectification of whoever is the subject of these feelings, and the alpha may get excessively upset if the actual person doesn't completely match the "mental idealized version" in their head- this could happen for a number of reasons from something as simple as the person deciding to change something about their appearance, to having a personality that doesn't "match" the one the Alpha had "imagined". This can lead to issues with some Alphas being controlling and/or obsessive over everything, and may escalate to worse abuse based on a desire to "control" or "own". This kind of a thing is NOT exclusive to Alphas, anyone can be shitty, but this specific form of it is slightly more common with alphas specifically, over other forms of shitty/abusive patterns.

☽ OMEGAS • [ Ω ] ☾

"Emotional providers and nurturers, often take the role of maternal figures whether symbolically or literally. Caring and loving and very in tune with the emotional needs of those closest to them."

Omegas are often portrayed as more sensitive to pheromones than other dynamics, a.k.a. better at "reading people" and responding to the needs of others before they may even be consciously aware of said needs. Of course, IRL pheromones aren't a thing, but omegas are still very in-tune with the emotional states of others and as such, often, omegas can sense a conflict brewing even before it takes place, and prefer to avoid that if possible- they'd prefer to figure out what the cause of upset is, and address the feelings BEFORE they escalate. While the emotional hyper-awareness is useful in many situations, at times it instead results in excessive overthinking and stressing out over very mundane interactions.

The pack roles omegas are most often portrayed as having are usually things that concern the emotional wellbeing and social harmony of the pack, ensuring that its members are feeling cared for, seen&heard and understood, as well as being the "caretakers" for children/young members in the pack. Omegas are often great listeners, and will do so for hours. They're good at validating and echoing the feelings of others, and many omegas actually derive satisfaction from knowing they were able to help someone feel better- even when there wasn't anything to feel BAD about- just being able to offer emotional validation, comfort, or improve someone's mood tends to make omegas feel happy. In general, many Omegas are able to empathize very deeply, and tend to be good at "seeing things from the perspective of others".

Omegas are often portrayed as especially fond of children and having strong maternal instincts towards kids, both those of others, as well as their own. Stereotypically, omegas are portrayed as wanting children of their own (or, as some like to call them, pups), but this isn't really a "every omega ever" thing. This type of maternal instinct can present in MANY ways, and doesn't always even require children in the equation. Being a "chronically 'mom-friend' type person" can be one manifestation of that, for example, while in other cases, Omegas thrive in older sibling/uncle/etc roles, rather than parental ones.

Omegas are often portrayed as highly emotional/emotion-driven themselves, with a highly developed sense of empathy and compassion. This sometimes manifests as overthinking, anxiety, social exhaustion, hyper-empathy, being easily swayed by the reactions and/or feelings of others, a tendency to seek emotional approval and a likelihood to choose people-pleasing over their own wants and needs. While Alphas are more likely to neglect their emotional well-being, Omegas are somewhat an opposite, and tend to neglect taking proper physical care of themselves in favour of "being there" for someone else. Similarly, while Alphas tend to bottle up or brick-wall their emotions and instead keep physically busy, Omegas tend to retreat and isolate and neglect their bodies when feeling bad.

On the more dark side- which I feel is SO important to talk about as I rarely see people bring this up- Omegas, thanks to their high level of emotional intelligence, are also often very skilled at subtle but devastating emotional manipulation and even abuse. Omegas are great at playing the victim to gain sympathy or pity when it suits them, and are great at appealing to the emotions and feelings of other people to sway them- essentially, omegas tend to make for good liars and manipulators. Omegas are far more likely to utilize manipulation tactics, emotional abuse, self-victimization and mind games, than other dynamics- that isn't to say that alphas or betas are incapable of it, or that this is the ONLY way Omegas may be abusive, nor am I saying that every omega is abusive, obviously- but it's good to keep in mind, especially given the fact that certain medias love to portray omegas as "innocent pure uwu cinnamon rolls who can never do any harm".

☽ BETAS • [β] ☾

Let's be real for a moment and skip the quotation mark description I did for both Alphas and Omegas. There is a reason why I left Betas last, but it's not why you might think.

Both due to the fact that in SO MUCH of omegaverse fiction, Betas are simply nothing but an afterthought in a story about an a/o couple, as well as the fact that people have different ideas of things, a "widely accepted common portrayal of what a Beta is like" doesn't really exist. I feel that it's especially important to acknowledge this specifically because this means that people have VERY different headcanons for betas, both in terms of omegaverse, as well as in terms of what it means to be a beta. It WILL look a little different for every individual beta, likely far more so than it does for the other dynamics. The way I see it, there's both good and bad parts about this- the identity of a beta is less "restricted by" or "bound to" any specific traits or aspects, BUT at the same time, a lot of people may struggle with this as well, potentially feeling like they may not "fit in" or that their personal identity as a beta isn't "enough" or is "too strange". The misce community grows over time, mostly because people who were into omegaverse in fiction come across it and go, "wait, I can just be (dynamic)? Cool!" Which often leads to fundamental misunderstandings, and is an entirely different topic to begin with.

Anyway, what I am getting at is that the more "old school" misce blogs and folk, from what I TEND TO SEE, are far more open to all kinds of beta headcanons and interpretations, while the "new blood" coming in (which, hey, my blog isn't that old either, so)- tends to be people who see betas as "the normal people", basically equivalent to not even having a dynamic at all. So let's start there- let's lose that idea right away. Betas are NOT "no dynamic" or "neutral dynamic". Betas are Betas- and people who are NOT misce, and have NO dynamic identity, are the neutral/no-dynamic ones. Those people are not betas by default.

So, what ARE betas?

Short answer? You tell me.

Longer answer? It's largely up to individual interpretation.

Longest answer? ...

The way I have always seen this is that there are various interpretations of a "beta" and none of them are inherently wrong or right. If you're misce and you identify as a beta in the way they are most commonly depicted as being "the normal people of omegaverse", not having cycles (aside from menstrual ones for afab betas), not having specific traits/skills/etc, and just "being normal (in comparison to alphas and omegas)" then that's entirely valid and just as good as any other interpretation. What matter most is that YOU are happy, feel represented, and have a label you like.

However, if you identify differently as a beta- perhaps you DO have a cycle, whether that is a rut or a heat or a mixture of both, either or, or something completely different- that's also just as good- as long as you feel like yourself. (I didn't spend time talking about ruts and heats in the sections for alphas and omegas, since it's quite straightforward, but I may make a post on that at some point.) For now though- I DO actually believe I can think of at least some commonly shared beta-traits, similar to how I did for the previous sections. They may not apply to every interpretation of misce betas, but that's a given.

So, what traits are common to Betas, then?

In my experience, I find that many of my beta-coded or beta friends, they all share a certain energy that's hard for me to explain. Betas, in my eyes, seem very lively- not necessarily that they are "more energetic" or "happier" or anything, it's more like, they seem to be very "alive" in some strange way I cannot quite describe, but it makes me feel good by proxy. The way I see it, Betas, regardless of how introverted they are in terms of personality, are almost always incredibly easy to talk to, have really comforting presences, and overall make any friend group feel "complete" and "balanced".

This is actually something I noticed very strongly at Pride yesterday! A bunch of my friends are Betas, a good few are Alpha, and a couple are other Omegas (at least, in terms of how I tend to see them), and without fail, Betas always feel like the glue that makes the group feel complete. In MANY cases, they're the bridge between myself and people I've never even met, and their presence lifts everyone's spirits. Betas make groups feel like teams instead of a handful of individuals sharing a space.

Not only that- they're INSANELY resourceful and prepared. As soon as I mentioned my shoes were starting to chafe, two band-aids were IMMEDIATELY handed to me by one of my very beta-coded friends. If anyone is going to survive the apocalypse, I'm betting on the betas in a heartbeat. They're prepared, they know how to keep themselves AND their friends alive, they're good at organizing stuff and delegating tasks to the most appropriate people. Whoever thinks Alphas are at the top and rule the world are WRONG. It's Betas. It's always Betas. If they stopped existing, the world would grind to a halt in less than 12 hours, I'm calling it now. Betas get shit done and make it work, and not only that, they can gigure out what your strengths are, and can figure out which tasks you'd be best at. I'm 100% certain that almost every competent manager, strategist, advisor, expert, scout, spy, organizer, consultant, etc. Is always a Beta. If you want solid advice and good insights with anything practical, ask a Beta. They will either know the answer, or will point you to someone else who does.

From what I've observed, Betas are clever, resourceful, creative and innovative, good at planning ahead AND coming up with ideas on the fly. In terms of pack roles, it fully makes sense to me to view Betas as the leaders and practical thinkers who ensure things work. While Alphas may be the kind to defend the pack from external threats, the Betas are the ones who will help you avoid the threats in the first place. Omegas may be good at predicting and avoiding conflict and resolving feelings that may lead to internal disagreements, but Betas are the ones who will SOLVE conflicts, come up with compromises, and ensure nobody is treated unfairly.

And honestly, this is why I hope misce betas chime in! Please describe your experiences as Betas and of being a beta in misce communities, what it means to you and who you are, etc. In the notes? As I said many times- my observations only go so far.

About Misce- Personal Experience;

a.k.a. this is the part where I ramble even more.

So, I've talked about various stuff, and this is the second-to-last part. In the last part, I will try to provide my personal advice and takes, so skip there if my personal life experiences do not interest you at all. This part is just something I wanted to include, because while I've never personally really questioned my dynamic identity, I want to talk about things that COULD have made me question it, and why.

Omega.

I've always identified as one so strongly that I confidently named my blog "omegapheromone" and refer to myself online as "Gamie", a play on the word "Omega" itself, just rearranged and one letter off. I identified as an omega before I knew what misce was.

But, the people around me haven't been so confident about it.

I don't know if I'll have deleted that post by the time this one is finally done, or by the time you're reading this, whether that's the same day or a year or more from this post's date of posting- but I very recently shared a selfie, a face reveal of sorts. If it's deleted, let me describe myself in it: an androgynous/boyish person with pastel-coloured hair and clothes.

From that selfie, you wouldn't think it, especially with the angle and such- but I'm actually quite tall (167cm/5'5", almost 5'6" or so). Tall, and I have strangely broad shoulders and back for an AFAB person. I'm actually taller and often more "broad" than many of my friends, and in the past, when hanging out with friends, I've heard the "so are you the 'man' in the relationship" type comments when people have mistaken me and any of my friends for a couple. This is how people, even other queer people, tend to view me for some reason. It doesn't bother me TOO much these days, but it used to, and I still find myself wishing I was smaller, shorter, more "dainty" so that people would immediately think "oh, an omega", instead of assuming I'm an "alpha" (or in the case of real world, assuming I'm the assertive and sexually dominant type). I'd like it if people looked at me and, instead of feeling like I'm the type to care for and protect them, saw me as something they want to take care of and protect. It sounds incredibly cliché, but after living 20+ years with this being my experience (being seen as the type that protects ans dotes on others and whatnot), it's just something that's stuck with me. All my exes have approached me with the assumption that I was a dominant type, often also flat out thinking I was a cis dude (somehow, though I guess in the past my sense of fashion wasn't as "cutesy", and instead was more edgy). They weren't turned off by the fact that I flat out had to tell them, no, I'm very much a bottom and you cannot make me top for the life of me, trust me, it WILL NOT be good for either of us. I'd say "lucky me" but the most notable case turned out to be abusive and controlling, so I can't really say that, either. Of course, as I said above, sexual preferences have NOTHING to do with one's dynamic, for me it just happens to coincide that I'm an omega, a bottom, AND for some reason, have a very assertive/dominant aura despite not being either of those things, and as a result, to me, it feels like people are constantly just mistaking me for the "generic portrayal of an alpha".

As much as I complain about feeling dejected that I doubt I'll ever REALLY have the experience where "oh I want to dote on and protect him" is the other person's very first impression/thought, I've made peace with it. In the grand scheme of things, it doesn't matter so much- there's someone for everyone, or however the saying goes.

Still, it's interesting. For as long as I can remember, people have described me with words like "intimidating", saying that they've been afraid to approach because I look like I'm somehow either "too cool" for them, or "wouldn't want to talk" or whatever. Maybe I've built walls that are just too high after getting bullied as a child, or maybe my general detachment and aloofness have made me come across as cold and unwilling to make friends. It's not true though- I do genuinely enjoy meeting people and making friends. To an extent I'm aloof, and at times I will just disappear for a while before acting like no time passed at all, but that's not me trying to be distant on purpose at all.

Anyway, all of that is to say, I've never doubted my omega-ness. I've identified as one since I was a teen and read my first omegaverse fanfics. It's just something I've known. Sometimes I've wondered if I should TRY to force myself to be more of a top and pretend to be an Alpha, but the idea is just uncomfortable. I'd just be lying, both to myself and any potential partner having to experience it- and I don't like how lying to myself feels at all. It's like playing a character I hate, a mockery or parody of who I actually am, and it just makes me feel bad. I refuse to define myself based on the assumptions OTHER PEOPLE make about me, based on my height, build, "vibe" or anything else. If they make an assumption and are wrong about it, that's on THEM for making an assumption. I'm not going to cut my legs off just to be shorter, and I'm not going to strave myself (again) just to seem "dainty and fragile and weak and in need of protection" either. Fuck that, I have internal organ damage from that already, so no thanks, I'm not going to make that worse.

The Advice

the part where I actually answer the question asked.

Alright, so the question bears repeating since I've rambled so long it literally took an entire day to write this post;

Do I have any advice? Some. Most of it I've touched on already. Sit down with yourself openly and honestly, and question what your concepts are based on. Are you forcing yourself to fit a fictional stereotype thar was never meant to suit real life people to begin with, or do you ACTUALLY identify with something? Sit down with what your idea of misce as a whole is, and question what it means to you, what your place in it is, and take time to get familiar with various portrayals of all different kinds of dynamics, not just the most stereotypical ones. Domestic soft homemaker alphas, CEO boss dom omegas, betas who AREN'T just "normal guy in a world of alphas and omegas". Also even if you find a list of "traits that (dynamic xyz) has always!!!!", take your time to look at it. Are there alternative ways to interpret it? Can some traits show up differently? Does "protective" always mean "possessive"? Could it not mean "caring, concerned of their friends' wellbeing, the type to stay up until 4am to ensure a friend gets home safe and texts them, and if they don't, will physically drive over to check on them"? You get the idea.

"Because I'm a smaller person and more submissive?" - I already talked a Lot about this, but why are these things "inherently omega" traits in your mind, anon? Try saying this out loud: "Every omega is a small person, and every omega is always submissive, no matter what." If it feels uncomfortable to state that confidently as fact, then you likely never believed that yourself to begin with, but rather were telling yourself that you "have to be a certain way because you do not fit the stereotype of the OTHER things". You don't have to fit a mold. The molds are based on fiction anyway- you're you. What matters is how YOU feel, what YOU feel most comfortable with, and what label YOU vibe with the most. You don't have to force the identity of an omega onto yourself if you feel more like an alpha, just because you happen to be "smaller and more submissive". Yet again, sexual preferences don't dictate your dynamic at all either. If you feel more like an alpha, then that's all you need. There's no height requirement, this isn't an amusement park ride. There's no minimum muscle mass requirement, this is not a bodybuilder competition. There's no requirement to be dominant or a top or anything at all- that's not even what misce is about. You are you, and what you vibe with is the most important. If that means being a small and more submissive alpha, then congrats on presenting as an alpha!!! You are loved and accepted here!!! 💕

Love you, anon, I hope this helps even a little, and I hope you find what YOU are most comfortable with!

#okay so I have like a ton of commentary so just imagine me making these comments somewhere off to the side #more as just personal comments of Null's wonderful input than anything! I've said most of what I felt was important in my original response #anyway first of all Null!! you're handsome! love the converse with the suit vibe also- immaculate taste!#also wdym 'more attractive in an older picture' I think anyone with functional eyes and brain would disagree #like maaaaaaybe if I was a cis straight podcast bro? but arguably their brains do not work to begin with.#I mean just ask any of them what an ''alpha male'' is. they'll be wrong every single time lmao #well- in any case #your comparison of dynamics to being trans/gnc/similar is very relatable and makes a lot of sense #It's a little different given I've always known I'm an omega but I am transmasc so I can vibe with the sentiment #in a way my omega-ness actually might've added to my struggle about my primary gender in the sense of like #I have certain traits that can be read as feminine and some of my likes and hobbies which I associate with being an omega can seem 'fem'#but trying to force myself into BEING a female in order to 'perform femininity the RIGHT way' has never been comfortable #it's ONLY ever felt uncomfortable and painful and anxiety-inducing. but embracing them as a man who just likes cute stuff? hell yea #so it can sort of go that way too. honestly maybe one day I will make an entire post about misce dynamics and gender identity #and whatever weird fuckery is happening there for almost all misce folk I know #but that day isn't any time soon lmao #also HEH re:alpha callout part of my post (/lhj)#I typed that fully knowing like half of the criticisms also fit me #'won't talk about emotions' and 'hates relying on others' that's just the trauma speaking. but it's also a pattern I've consistently seen #in every single alpha-coded friend I have #you guys need to sit down and have some raw emotions for once actually. it doesn't feel great in the moment but I promise it helps long term #anyway just to get back on the topic of stereotypes/looks/etc #actually- almost all of my friends who I tend to clock as alphas whether they're misce or not (consciously at least...)#tend to be shorter than me for whatever reason. sure it doesn't help that I like wearing platform shoes but like #something something more rage concentrated in a smaller vessel something /j #I had more thoughts but my meds have worn off and the adhd is winning again #my point is that these are great additions and insights from Null!! again thank you for the addition!!!#if any of my followers DON'T follow Null- 1. what are you DOING and #2. go do it right now or else I will hiss #this concludes my unnecessary tag commentary for the day LMAO

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sall0wisms · 2 months ago

Text

love at first sight; Sebastian Sallow X f!MC

summary: preceding her attendance to Hogwarts next term, MC attends a quidditch match with her childhood friend where a certain Slytherin beater catches her eye

author note: I was listening to 'Love at First Sight' by Kylie Minogue when this story idea came to me. the vibes are immaculate and I couldn't stop myself from making it about Seb hehehe. anyways, the story is very loose interpretation of the song but I hope you all enjoy!!!

word count: 929 (short read, but hope it makes you feel all the feels it gave me)

cw: none, it's allllll butterflies

The air was ripe with anticipation as excited voices swelled around the Quidditch pitch, a vast expanse framed by the historic towers of Hogwarts. Above, the sky wore a slate-gray hue, filled with promise and the distant sound of chattering clouds.

Sitting in the Ravenclaw section, MC couldn’t help but feel a blend of nerves and excitement. She was here for a taste of what life was going to be like next term, and Lily—her childhood friend and student at Hogwarts—was her guide into this extraordinary sunlight.

“Isn’t this incredible?” Lily exclaimed, her blue Ravenclaw scarf flapping like a banner as she waved it above her head. “Quidditch matches in the air, friends around, and all of Hogwarts cheering together! You’re going to love it!”

MC smiled, her stomach a swirl of emotions. Dressed neutrally in beige and gray, she didn’t have a house banner to wave. After all, she was yet to be sorted, but she was here for the experience, and how immense it felt.

The game started, and the players soared into the sky; their vibrant robes—brilliant greens for Slytherin, deep blues for Ravenclaw—were streaks of color against the canvas of gray. MC couldn’t keep her eyes from darting after the Slytherin beater, who flew with a charisma that made her heart race. His name, she had learned from the letters stitched on the back of his jersey, was Sallow, and his messy brown hair danced wildly in the wind as he dominated the aerial field.

“Go Ravenclaw!” Lily cheered enthusiastically, her eyes fixed on their team, but MC found herself more captivated by Sallow’s movements. He commanded the pitch with a blend of strength and grace, the wooden bat in his grip transforming into an extension of himself. Every time he swung, it was poetry; every time he sent a bludger hurtling away from his teammates, it resonated with confidence that was nearly tangible.

MC’s heartbeat quickened each time he assisted in scoring a point for Slytherin. Knowledge of the teams’ rivalries vanished in the thrill of the game. She sucked in a breath and found herself cheering for Slytherin whenever they made a particularly good play.

Lily caught a glimpse of her friend’s exuberance, narrowing her brows in curiosity. “I thought you were cheering for Ravenclaw?”

MC shrugged, unable to conceal her smile as Sallow soared high above, tangled in the grips of the bludgers, commanding the chaos around him with effortless charm. “I’m just here for the experience.” She felt a flutter, the vibrant noise of the game fading in the background as she became ensnared by him.

With each passing moment, MC felt like she was in a magical trance until, suddenly, a bludger streaked down from above, heading straight towards her section. The crowd gasped, but MC merely turned to look in surprise.

In a split second, Sallow swooped down, bat in hand, striking the bludger away with a ferocity that exhibited not just skill but an enthralling fearlessness. Just as he sent the bludger off into oblivion, he turned to glance back at the Ravenclaw stands and, with a cheeky grin, winked in their direction.

MC’s heart almost stopped, a rush of heat flooding her cheeks. A flutter of giddiness took her, and she nearly melted into her seat. Could he have seen her watching? He was beyond a stranger—this was a boy, a player, basking in glory—and yet, she felt inexplicably seen.

Lily elbowed her gently, barely suppressing laughter. “You like Sallow, don’t you? Look at the way you’re glowing!”

“Shh!” MC huffed playfully, though her pulse leapt in agreement. Sallow moved back into the fray, battling through the air, and she quickly focused on the game again, every play intensifying her inexplicable interest in him.

As the match drew to a close, and Ravenclaw made a late-game effort that nearly overwhelmed Slytherin, MC found herself caught up in the ebb and flow of the crowd’s cheers and gasps. The exhilaration in her veins was unlike anything she’d felt, made only more vibrant by the rush of the game and the seductive charm of Sallow, whom she had not met but felt a strange bond with nonetheless.

Finally, as the whistle blew, the Slytherin team—exhilarated, victorious, and boasting triumphant grins—soared down. The energy around MC was electric. She felt alive with anticipation, the magic of this place and the overwhelming excitement of the game enveloping her.

“Didn’t I tell you? You can already feel the magic!” Lily laughed, the edges of her voice tinged with thrill. “Next term, you’ll be a part of it all!”

MC nodded vigorously. A feeling surged, an inkling of her own destiny beginning to form. Maybe she'd be sorted into Slytherin, maybe she wouldn’t, but one thing was undeniable; she was more connected to this world than she ever anticipated. Her heart swirled with hope and exhilarating possibility, just like the players who gracefully ascended to the clouds.

As they watched the teams shake hands and revel in the game’s aftermath, MC realized magic wasn’t just in the spells and potions; it was in the connections and the feelings that bloomed, even from afar. Sallow caught her gaze again, a smile playing on his lips, and with that simple glance, she felt her world shift—a whisper from the universe, an inkling of love at first sight.

And in that instant, under the damp sky of the Quidditch pitch, she knew that she was ready for the adventure ahead, ready to embrace everything Hogwarts had to offer, especially if it included occasional attention from Sallow.

#sebastian sallow x mc #sebastian sallow #hogwarts legacy fandom #hogwarts legacy #quidditch #hogwarts #wizarding world #slytherin #gryffindor #ravenclaw #hufflepuff #hogwarts houses #hogwarts school of witchcraft and wizardry #hogwarts legacy fanfiction #sebastian sallow fanfiction #hogwarts legacy sebastian #harry potter fandom #harry potter

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tgmsunmontue · 3 months ago

Text

Season to Taste - 9/? WIP

Explicit Hangster - Celebrity Chef Bradley and Naval Aviator Jake Seresin who have a relationship spanning the globe before they realize how tightly bound they are to one another. Heading into this little world.

PROLOGUE/ONE TWO THREE FOUR FIVE SIX SEVEN EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

Bradley doesn’t think he’s ever worked so hard in his life. He thought Leandro was a hard taskmaster, maybe Nonna edging him out a little. But this is insanity. Service finishes after midnight and then they’re expected to make the kitchen immaculate only to be back before six to start prep and set the dough to rise. Fresh bread every day. He’s so tired, and everyone speaks French, although the head chef does seem to take pity on him occasionally and repeat key instructions in Italian. Aside from everything he’s learning, another positive is Johan, who speaks flawless French and English. He offers to help Bradley with his French if he’ll help him learn Italian.

He figures out that the Johan’s native tongue is Swedish around the time they exchange blowjobs and Bradley ends up with his first ever serious boyfriend. Johan specializes in seafood and shellfish, and Bradley finds out he’s paying for the privilege of being here. He wonders whether Leandro is paying for Bradley to be here and he’ll need to ask him, doesn’t like the idea of him putting himself out financially to send Bradley here, no matter how much he’s learning.

He ends up spending eighteen months in Paris, only lasts one month after Johan moves on to London before he needs to go home to Leandro and Silvia. Then Leandro asks him to cook for them, shuts the restaurant and invites the entire family. He and Silvia both help prep and follow his direction and instructions and being in charge of the entire menu and trusted to feed his adopted family fills him with pride. It’s not perfect, there are definitely things he’d improve, the timing for a few things is a little off, but Leandro nods with approval, toasts him with his favorite glass of red and Bradley feels like he could fly.

… … …

He feels like Jake has been stalking him, watching with intent, eyes dark.

“What?” he finally asks, gives in really, putting down the spoon he’d been using to stir and wipes his hands on his apron.

“You ever cook in nothing but the apron?”

“No, because I don’t want any health violations. But…”

“At home? You could be persuaded?”

He’s not in the habit of lying and he wants to see where Jake might want to take this.

“Yeah. Given enough incentive…”

“Hmm. Good to know. Turn the gas off…”

He raises an eyebrow, can’t believe that Jake is… grabbing a cushion from one of the chairs and dropping to his knees. Holy shit.

“Come on… make it safe and then let me suck you off. Ideally in nothing but the apron, if you’re looking at making me happy.”

He rolls his eyes, but also he’s being offered a blowjob and nothing cooking is time sensitive so he dutifully turns everything off and puts it at the back, stripping off his t-shirt, then swearing when he tangles himself up in the strings. The whole time Jake just watches, clearly comfortable resting back on his heels, rubbing a hand over his own, still fully clothed, crotch.

“You’re not getting naked as well?” Bradley asks, kicking off his shoes and pushing his jeans down, his cock already starting to chub up at the promise of Jake’s mouth on him, although the apron hides that at least. He feels a little silly but with the way Jake’s watching him he’s assuming he doesn’t look silly.

“Nope.”

“Oh. Okay.”

Then Jake’s shuffling closer, tugging him away from the stove top and then the cold line of the bench is pressing into his lower back, Jake’s hands are running down his legs from hip to knee, where his fingers catch the hem of the apron and then he’s lifting it up and ducking under and his cock is suddenly encased in warm sucking heat. It’s odd, not being able to see Jake, but it makes him focus a little more on what he’s feeling and his eyes slip closed as Jake’s fingers stroke over his balls.

In the four days since they’ve started hooking up they’ve figured out quite a lot about how to get each other off, how to drag it out but also how to make each other come as fast and as hard as possible. Right now Jake is pulling out all the stops, like he wants Bradley to come as quickly as possible and he knows that means that he’s already angling to make this the first of whatever this session is turning into. He’s got no reason to hold back, lets himself feel the dig of Jake’s fingers on his hips as he urges Bradley into fucking his mouth, the sloppy sucking heat of his mouth, the fingers on his balls and then the pressure of a knuckle on his perinium and then the brush of a finger over his asshole, Jake’s fingers now digging into his ass cheek and he groans and just lets himself shake and shudder as his orgasm washes through him.

Jake doesn’t swallow, is clearly ready with a tissue or something to spit into and Bradley just rests against the bench and sucks in deep calming breaths. Jake’s head pops back into view and he looks pleased with himself and Bradley lowers himself to his knees, forcing Jake to shuffle back so they’re pressed together, their knees sharing the tiny cushion, thighs pressed together and he presses his mouth to Jake’s, kisses him and can taste himself. He can feel Jake’s hands roaming over his back and chest, the strings of the apron pulling tight when his hands stretch it tight.

“God I love how red you get,” Jake says, and Bradley can feel the words, Jake’s breath on his skin and he shivers, is glad Jake apparently likes his uncontrollable flush when he’s aroused. Or angry. Or exercises.

“Yeah?”

“Mmm. Wanna mark you up…”

“Yeah, okay…” Bradley agrees easily. No-one to see him except for Jake himself, hears the low groan Jake makes and he can feel his erection pressing against him. “Want –” Bradley pulls away, just enough to ask, but Jake is already chasing him, crushing their mouths together before he can get another word out, keeps kissing him deep and sloppy and breathless.

“All I want,” Jake says, “is to get my cock into you. If you aren’t too sore.”

Bradley groans, because that’s actually a consideration right now. God he wants it though, it might not hurt, but it’ll definitely ache. He doesn’t want to pass it up though, and he knows it’ll be a good kind of ache.

“Yeah, yeah. Come on…”

He kisses Bradley again, his hand brushing over his cock and his entire body jerks, a little over sensitive, but he knows Jake’s very goal orientated.

“Mmm. Come on. Bedroom.”

He already knew Jake was good in bed, has a skillset or interests that maybe align with his own. Can feel Jake deliberately starting the bank the fire of arousal in him, making his insides feel like molten rock, burning him up and weighing him down. Jake undoes the ties of the apron and drops it to the floor before undressing himself, his eyes not leaving Bradley’s and then he’s backing them both toward the bed, stripping the thin cotton blanket and sheet back.

“Come on, on your stomach…”

He chews on his lips but he does it, feels Jake almost immediately at his back, pressing kisses across his shoulder and neck as he puts his arms under his head and hides his face, lets himself focus on the slow drag of Jake’s fingers over his back and ass.

“Mmm. Gorgeous. There you are…”

Bradley feels oddly exposed, can hardly believe this is only their fourth day together, that Jake can apparently read him so easily. Just trusting him so implicitly and giving up control. Give it to someone who knows what they’re doing, someone competent and a bit of an asshole. Willing to take the reins without being a dick about it. Well, too much of a dick. The right type of dick. He moans, his mind starting to feel a little hazy as he feels the press of Jake just pinning him to the bed, not forcefully, but more like a comfort. He doesn’t think he’s gone more than twelve hours without Jake fucking him since Saturday night.

He hears the tearing of foil, can feel Jake shifting around on the bed and he shifts, giving him room between his spread legs. Instead of being encouraged he hears Jake tutting and then his legs are being tugged back so that they’re together again and he flexes his hips again, doesn’t quite know what he’s asking, what he needs.

“Yeah, you’ve got a gorgeous ass, don’t need to show it off…”

Oh. He hadn’t thought of that. Then Jake is murmuring perfect under his breath and his knees are pressing on the outside of his thighs.

“Shouldn’t be too uncomfortable like this, plus I just get to hold you where I want you…” Jake says, like he knows it’s exactly what Bradley wants and needs to hear right now, as he palms his ass cheeks and spreads him open. Bradley keeps his head down, grinds his cock against the mattress helplessly, hears the squelch of lube and Jake leans over him, the head of his cock poking against Bradley’s hole, Jake’s fingers digging into the flesh of his ass, and he wonders if this is what Jake meant by marking up, his fingers hard enough to bruise. He grinds against the mattress again, but there’s not enough of anything to get him going.

“I’ll take care of you. After. My turn now…”

Bradley groans, feels the press and slide of Jake’s thumb as it catches on the rim and spreads and pushes lube into him, he’s not loose but he’s not tight either. Then Jake leans in, hard press this time, pushes all the way in, bottoms out in the space of one breath and Bradley keens, shoves himself back and maybe gets an inch. It’s not deep, but it doesn’t need to be, it feels all encompassing, Jake over him and in him and pressing him down and not being able to move or see. The press and grind into his already aching body has him feeling it everywhere, his stomach, balls, beating a sharp tattoo in his chest and he groans again.

“You okay?”

“Yeah. Yeah. So okay. So good… don’t you dare fucking stop.”

“I got you sweetheart.”

CHAPTER TEN - AN INTERLUDE

#Season to taste #Hangster #Sereshaw #Top Gun Maverick fanfiction #AU

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malsfefanfics · 2 months ago

Note

sylvix?

Apologies for the wait! Hope you don't mind some hurt/comfort.

"Hey, Felix? Remember when we were kids and we made a promise about dying together?"

"I remember."

"Well, seems we're about to kill each other."

"Sorry, Sylvain. You'll die first."

Felix awoke with a jolt, cold sweat making his nightshirt cling to him like a vice. The tightness in his chest grew with every attempt to get a breath. The chill of the air cut deeper than the blades he wielded so expertly. His hair fell around him, strands pasted to his skin. Lavender replaced the metallic taste from his dream.

Yes. Dream. It was just a dream.

Breathe. You're home. You're in bed. You're not in battle. You're home. Home in Gautier. Yes. No blood. No rain. Just the cold night. Breathe, Felix. Breathe. You need to-

"Felix?"

A hand on his shoulder snapped him out of his spiral. Slowly, Felix turned his head, and as the room came into focus, he saw the gentle brown eyes of Sylvain focused entirely on him. There was no broken nostalgia. No fierce determination. Just quiet concern and adoring devotion.

Right. A dream. Still a dream. It was just. A. Dream.

"Felix, what's wrong?" Sylvain asked softly. "You're shaking. Did you have a nightmare?"

"Don't be ridiculous," Felix grumbled, pulling back. "I don't get nightmares."

"Uh-huh. Who was it who would crawl into my bed after a bad dream when we were kids again?"

"Shut up."

Sylvain chuckled and moved in closer, wrapping his arms around Felix's shoulders. "Cold sweats, huh? Must have been a pretty bad dream."

Felix didn't pull away this time. "It's nothing."

"If it's nothing, you shouldn't mind telling me."

"I..." He sighed. "I....had a dream about the final battle. With the boar."

Sylvain's grip tightened. "And?"

"And....we were opposing sides. I cut you down." Felix's reached up, gripping onto Sylvain's arm tightly. Fingers traced over the scars, lightly following along the edges. "You fell in battle this time. And didn't get up."

"This time?" Sylvain asked. "So, this is a recurring dream."

"Not really," Felix said. "It just happens sometimes. Last time, you managed to strike me down."

"Oh, yeah, that definitely confirms it's just a dream."

He laughed, and oh, the sound could have fell the Immaculate one. Felix let out a sigh, allowing himself to melt in the embrace. It had been so long since it had been just the two of them. Once the war was done, clean up took over. And soon the two were pulled apart for months on end, only coming together for meetings and combat. Now that things were settling, they could just be allowed to...be.

Yes. This was reality. There was no more war. No more fighting to be had. Felix could finally lay down his sword.

The dream didn't exist. This exists. He didn't need to fear anymore.

"We should run you a bath," Sylvain suggested. "Or maybe go for a dip in the springs. You're soaked. And I think a good, hot soak would help."

"In a moment," Felix said. "I just....want to stay here a moment."

“Take all the time you need. I'll stay by your side until you're ready."

"Idiot. You'll be staying by my side until I say otherwise. Got it?"

Sylvain kissed his cheek. "Very well. I'll stay until you say otherwise."

#fe3h #fire emblem three houses #felix hugo fraldarius #sylvain jose gautier #sylvix

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theostrophywife · 2 years ago

Note

i know you’re taking soft az requests, but since your writing is ✨immaculate✨ and it’s christmas, i was wondering if i could request some filthy wingplay with az as a Christmas gift (perhaps with az being a bit of a sub for his mate 👀) again, love your writing 🫶🫶

all mine.

author's note: wing play and sub!az coming right up. highly recommend listening to this song which served as my inspiration for this smutty goodness. warning: smut under the cut.

"I want to be in control tonight."

Those seven little words unleashed some deep, primal need within the shadowsinger. Azriel couldn't quite believe what he was hearing. He was so accustomed to being the dominant one in the bedroom that the thought of relinquishing control never crossed his mind, but as you gently pushed him onto the mattress, Azriel quickly found himself warming up to the idea.

The Winter Solstice celebration may have come to an end hours ago, but the sight of you straddling his waist whilst wearing nothing but a skimpy set of black lingerie felt like a gift in and of itself. Just as he reached out to touch you, Azriel felt a crackle of magic snake up his forearms. The glowing, scarlet threads looped through his wrists and gently pulled each of his arms on opposite ends of your bed.

A wicked smirk tugs at your lips as you unbuckle his belt. "You can look all you want, but you don't get to touch until I give you permission. Do you understand, Azriel?"

Cauldron fucking boil him. The shadowsinger could only muster a nod, his hazel eyes glowing golden with lust as he watched you undress him. You settled on his right thigh and the warmth of the skin to skin contact elicited a whine out of his pretty lips. Azriel wanted to devour you, but he knew that he had to be patient.

The shadowsinger was entirely at your mercy. You smile to yourself before pressing openmouthed kisses along the hard planes of his ridiculously sculpted abs, humming in pleasure as you nipped and licked at his chest, collarbone, and neck. His golden brown skin shimmered in the moonlight and he tasted like sweat and sin against your tongue. You flicked it against his shoulder before lightly grazing your teeth along the column of his throat. Azriel arched into your touch as you playfully sucked at the sensitive spot just below his right ear. He turned his head to catch your lips, but you tilted his chin and shook your head.

"Use your words, baby. Tell me what you want."

The Illyrian warrior swallowed thickly as his pink tongue swiped through his bottom lip. His eyes were bottomless depths of desire, framed by those thick, long lashes that kissed the tops of his perfect cheekbones. You swiped your thumb across his full, pouty lips and sighed in appreciation. Your mate was just so fucking pretty.

"Kiss me," Azriel says breathlessly. You raised an amused brow and the shadowsinger actually shied under your gaze. "Please."

The neediness in his voice makes the arousal shoot straight to your head. As much as you loved it when Azriel took charge, this submissive side of him was absolutely fucking irresistible. You liked teasing out his desperation and reveled in the power and hold that you had over your mate.

"Since you asked so nicely," you murmured against his neck before pressing your lips to his.

You could taste Azriel's desperation in the kiss, his lips perfectly melding with yours as you run your fingers through his soft, dark locks. The shadowsinger moans into your mouth as you slip your tongue between his parted lips, sighing in satisfaction as you press your chest against him. Azriel forgets about the restraints on his arms and tries to touch you, but your magic only tightens against his wrists.

"I want to touch you."

"So needy for me, aren't you Az?" you kiss him softly, pecking at the corner of his mouth as your mate whines. "Be a good boy and lie back and I'll think about letting you touch me."

Azriel nods, looking up at you as you push him back against the pillows. "I'll be good, I promise. I just want to please you, mistress."

The smirk that snakes across your pretty face was purely predatory. Azriel knew he was really in for it now.

"Is that so?" you ask with a wicked grin. "And if it pleases your mistress to play with your wings? Will you stay still and let me have your way with you?"

The shadowsinger was dizzy with pleasure. "Yes. Play with me. Use me as your toy. I'm at your mercy, mistress."

You kissed Azriel's cheek, murmuring your approval. Your hands slide over his broad shoulders before skirting up the red and gold membrane shimmering at his back. As he released a shaky breath, you ran a fingertip over the sensitive membrane. Those dark, powerful wings flared at your touch and Azriel groaned with pleasure. The guttural sound made the arousal pool in your panties and you quickly slipped out of the lacy material before settling onto Azriel's thigh. As you continued to trace patterns at his back, you rocked your hips against his leg, moaning softly as the friction rubbed against your clit deliciously.

The shadowsinger sucks in a deep breath, groaning as your slick covers his lap, the squelching sound filling the room as you greedily ride his thigh. You continued your feather light touches, twirling your pointer finger around the sharp talon at the apex of his wings. Leaning forward, Azriel watched you with curiosity while you placed open mouthed kisses along the membrane. His eyes nearly disappeared into the back of his head while you rolled your hips into him again. The way that you were using him as your own personal plaything was so fucking hot. You getting yourself off on his thigh was enough to get him off. Add the overstimulation to his wings and he was a ruined male.

Azriel knew he wasn't going to last any longer. The soft, gasping pants the shadowsinger was emitting sounded like music to your ears. Azriel had never felt anything like this before. It was earth-shattering and his sanity was being broken into pieces with every tender caress.

"Fuck, I'm so close." His head fell against the crook of your shoulder as pleasure racked through his entire body. "Please, mistress. Can I cum?"

"Not until you're inside me."

A string of curses fell from Azriel's lips as the restraints on his arms came undone. His aching cock throbbed as you pumped him with your right hand before lining him up at your entrance. You were wet, absolutely fucking soaking as you sank down onto his length. He wanted so badly to grip your hips and guide you over his cock, but he knew better than to disobey your command.

His patience was rewarded as you took a scarred hand and let him palm your breast. "Touch me, Azriel. I want to feel your hands all over me while I ride you."

Your mate didn't hesitate in obliging your request. His hands found refuge in your skin, greedily cupping your breasts, your ass, your soft tummy before settling against the hollow of your throat. He squeezed gently, applying just the right amount of pressure than he knew you liked as you rolled your hips into him. It was heavenly and he savored every moan, breath, whine that escaped from his mate's mouth. You were so fucking perfect. He would've ripped the stars out of the sky for you if you'd asked.

Azriel loved your body. He worshipped every inch—kissing, nipping, and sucking at whatever he could get his mouth and hands on while you ride out the pleasure together.

The fog of lust only thickened as he pressed you against his chest, rutting deeper into you as you grind down on his cock. You gently rake your fingers over his wings, tracing a dizzying pattern onto the leathery membrane while you took him in deeper and deeper. For a brief second, your eyes met and you held his gaze while you wrapped your lips around the sharp talon. You sucked lightly, careful not to cut the inside of your mouth with the razor sharp claw. Azriel groaned, feeling his release within his grasp as your pretty little cunt flutters and tightens around his length, keeping him buried deep within your walls.

"Do you wanna cum, baby?" you cooed, pushing back the locks that had fallen over Azriel's eyes.

"Yes, mistress. Please let me cum."

"Cum inside of me, Azriel. I want to feel you filling me up."

The words sent him over the edge, his balls tightened, his cock throbbed, and his seed pumped inside of you as Azriel bit down on your shoulder. The orgasm thoroughly rocked through every fiber of his being. Azriel spent himself on you, burying himself in your hair, your skin, your scent.

You coaxed him through the pleasure, murmuring sweet nothings into his ear as tears pooled at the corner of his eyes from the sheer intensity of the orgasm.

"You did so well, Az. Such a good pet for his mistress. I'm not done with you yet. You're all mine, baby. You belong to me. All fucking mine."

Azriel looked like a dream, his sex hair mussed and tousled, those golden eyes wide and entranced, and those pink, pouted lips parting in agreement as he obediently nods.

"I'm all yours."

#OH MY GOD #i did not know i needed sub!az in my life until now #thank you nonny #azriel #azriel smut #azriel fic #azriel fanfic #azriel x reader #azriel x you #azriel acotar #azriel fanfiction #azriel shadowsinger #azriel spymaster #azriel/reader

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oh-saints · 2 years ago

Text

sweetest devotion (p.1)

despite being written on paper, arranged marriages don't really have a guidance entailed. and mason was trapped into navigating the direction of this huge ship alone.

playboy!mason mount x princess!OC

word count: 2.0k

tw: as mentioned in the masterlist only, but extramarital affair to a marriage of convenience for this chapter

note: due to a stupid accident that costed my wrist, sorry for the long delay but here it is! i promised you next part's longer but hope you enjoy it nonetheless. as usual, i happen to write at dawn so this is not beta-read yet.

tags: @missgaygurl @pingyu-in-wonderland <3 (lemme know if you want to be added!)

sweetest devotion masterlist here <<prologue here - part 2 here>>

but face proven to be not everything needed in this holy institution called marriage.

especially not when the woman-in-question didn’t show that pretty face any where near mason throughout the second week.

mason never thought his marriage would turn out like this, though.

mainly because during the first week, mason and serena managed to stay civil—serena, for the sake of the baby; mason, for the sake of his life. because let’s be honest, there was too much at stake if they fucked up.

but truthfully, mason actually had a glimpse of what their marriage could look like, should they work together immaculately, so he didn’t think he had a point to complain. he reaped the benefits such as having his laundry taken care of—which he once admitted publicly was a total bummer when he was living alone because it’d mean he had to do it by his own self—while she was sheltered nicely and comfortably from the harsh punishment hanging on her head like a bounty.

well, at least until the mastermind behind the grand plan went missing.

no prior words, prior warning or whatsoever.

and mason was left dumbstruck. because now, what the hell was he supposed to do in this house without being reminded that he now couldn’t go out as much as he liked to? or the fact that he couldn’t pop into some upcoming hit nightclub for a relieve of his own without jeopardising both his and serena’s life?

fucking hell, he groaned before landing a well-placed punched to the sandbag he stored in his home gym. lately the poor thing was his only solace to the burning rage boiling that was threatening to combust. he’d never hated himself for what he’d done to his own life more than that precise moment.

once, someone told him that the most dangerous taste in life was the taste of freedom. and god were they right—he’d exchange everything in possession to have his premarital life and the freedom he was entitled with back in his hold. fuck what they said about his reputation of painting the town red.

“mase!” ben’s chirpy voice over the call clearly indicated he was drunk and in need of help. “you should come to the factory! she’s here!”

mason didn’t think twice to put on his usual clubbing garb at ben’s information and pulled out his Lamborghini from his driveway towards his and ben’s favourite nightclub.

and ironically, the place where it all begin for mason and serena.

but if serena was having fun at the night club, he deserved the right to ruin his steak of sombre nights. did he not?

“mason!” ben chilwell had to scream for his name to beat out the pounding music but his ears had never been more familiar at the loud voices more than now. “you’re here!”

“where’s she?”

ben’s smile grew wider at mason’s question. the left-back might not know the reason behind mason’s rash decision to get married—he initially thought the young star was only not wanting to pass up the chance to tie down a princess—but one thing that he did know was that mason mount was like a moth to the fire whenever she was involved in the scene.

“over at the bar!”

mason’s scanned the said bar, and his heart fell at the sight of her. because she wasn’t who mason was looking out for; she wasn’t serena. and all his plan getting even to serena he initially planned went evaporating into the air.

she happened to have the name of elena, the very and only woman who mason dared to describe closest as his lover, despite their constant on-and-off nature.

and ironically, the very reason mason and serena happened the first place.

if it wasn’t because of her dumping him—for the nth time—mason wouldn’t have sought the company of another woman in his bed. he wouldn’t have hunted serena, the prettiest commodity the factory had accrued that night, down on a Friday night too long ago.

elena peered over her shoulder, her eyes gave out away the hidden surprise at the sight of mason coming to the nightclub. surely, the newlywed didn’t come alone, did he?

mason was supposed to feel accustomed to this game of her. it was her signature move—giving off a glance over her shoulder, looking smoulderingly sexy as she did so.

mason knew what was coming, her selling off herself to the highest bidder. and he wasn’t supposed to fall into the jealousy trap of seeing endless men courting her anymore.

but he did, helplessly, like icarus flying too close to the sun. and before he realised it himself, mason had already circled his arms around her waist, surrendering himself to the devil in prada shoes as he lost himself to the demonic sensation of having elena’s lips on his, sloppy kisses be damned.

this was normalcy for mason.

this was what he could’ve had, and he’d never hated serena more than now for stealing this away from him.

＊✿❀○❀✿＊＊✿❀○❀✿＊＊✿❀○❀✿＊

for the rest of the week, going back to elena’s place was all mason did. god knows doing what, but if whatever-it-was brought back the happy spirit to mason’s body and his old self, the rest of the Chelsea team didn’t question it.

only when he needed a fresh change of clothes did he come back to his home, did he realise serena was already back occupying the 1st floor of the building. he might not see her in flesh and blood, but the fresh scent of lavender told more than words could never convey.

he dashed for his bedroom, putting his pieces of clothing as much as the duffel bag let him to, before heading out again towards elena’s place. mason managed to reconcile for the good now—because elena also realised that having mason in the arms of anyone else didn’t settle with her well—so he didn’t want to waste time away from her anymore.

halfway downstairs, mason got stopped by serena’s figure at the other end of the stairs. the woman looked like she was going to catch up on mason, but as her eyes travelled to his packed bag, mason noticed she was dawning in the reality.

good, he thought inwardly. it should serve her place.

mason let another 10 seconds passed by before he continued galloping down the stairs, breezed past serena the way she left him a week ago—empty. indifferent.

like nothing.

＊✿❀○❀✿＊＊✿❀○❀✿＊＊✿❀○❀✿＊

weeks passed and it was another weekly dose of mason fetching another pack of his clothes.

mason had certainly hired a cleaner so he could dump his dirty clothes one week and get another set of fresh clothes the next. despite his indifference towards serena, he prided himself on sparing her the smell of another woman standing in between them like the elephant in the room.

as soon as his feet graced the living room, a messy bun he wasn’t familiar at all was what came to his eyes, the hair colour so striking in the midst of mason’s all-white living room. while it wasn’t unusual, serena had never bothered crossing his way whenever he was back home to do this, as if they’d silently fallen into an inexplicable routine.

only at times like that was he grateful of marrying the right person. the princess’ pedigree certainly didn’t lie.

but still giving him her back, the owner of the highlighted scene spoke up. “you’re home.”

if serena wasn’t spurting the obvious information, mason would’ve shrunk at how eerily chilled her voice was. “you think?”

mason’s voice didn’t bother her at all—just like any other time during their short pre-wedding prep, the only time when he questioned her unwavering resolve only to be answered by “it’s just who I am.”

she just stood from her place so gracefully like a feather dancing ballet. “good, because we need to talk.”

“about what?”

“about us,” mason was seriously questioning how the hell she could spin her body into facing him with shoulders so squared she would’ve put kendall jenner to shame. “boundaries and all.”

oh, the audacity, mason scoffed. “the time of talking was a week ago, serena, which—in case you forget—was the time when you decided to disappear from the face of the earth.”

mason’s jab at her didn’t shake off her resolve, still. “where were you?”

“why do you care?”

“I care because the palace called,” mason appreciated she cut to the point because elena would be waiting for the dinner reservation he made for them. “I don’t care about you keeping a lover, mistress or whatever it is outside this house as long as you keep it under the wraps.”

shit, the palace must’ve found out somehow about him and elena. or the paparazzi did, who then contacted the palace to release the pictures. alas, mason must’ve been too reckless lately about his rendezvous. “okay.”

“and as long as you are to show up for the social gatherings the royal family may see fit,” this one, mason had to groan. who said marrying a princess was going to be a good stroke to his ego? “if it kills you so much, we can mingle for an hour tops before citing I’m not feeling well.”

“I don’t have problem with that,” the footballer crossed his arms as he bit back his response. he couldn’t possibly spew off his honest reaction at this time, not when this topic came up due to his carelessness. “I take it that includes my public appearances?”

“I’m not going to tail you to every of them if you don’t want me to,” yes, good, don’t come. “I’ll only go to where it concerns your club.”

“okay,” mason sighed, shifting his weight from his left leg to the right one, indicating he was uncomfortable and wanted to end this conversation already. “anything else?”

“that is all,” serena shook off her head before directing her feet to move towards her room. “good night, mason.”

“where were you, anyway?” serena halted her steps at mason’s question. “the past week?”

“why do you care, mason?”

mason knew serena only did that to get back at him but it still annoyed the hell of him. “just answer the damned question.”

“I was hospitalised.”

what? “how?”

“I fell off the stairs.”

what the fuck?! and she didn’t bother to share this piece of information? “okay… how about—”

“the baby? they’re safe, mason,” serena felt the need to turn around to show that she had indeed been doing a good job becoming a mother, no matter how bad mason was at doing his job as the father. “need not worry about it.”

serena might not show it in her words but mason could feel the slight annoyance at the way she turned herself around to him, to blatantly show him that all the reasons he didn’t need to put the blame on her for endangering their child. and it rubbed off in all the wrong way to mason because why was he getting the sticks now?

“I was meaning to ask how about we tell each other about our whereabouts, Jesus Christ,” mason grunted under his breath. serena was truly testing his patience this time… “your beloved palace surely wouldn’t appreciate it if you have a bad husband that doesn’t at least know where you are, no?”

that, serena could take a good moot point when she saw one.

but before serena could open a negotiation to mason’s suggestion, the man shook off his head as he dragged his feet towards his own bedroom. “hospital, of all places… good God.”

next chapter contains:

“how about having your friends over?”

“mason,” serena sighed, a bitter smile making its way to her face. “you’re the closest thing I have to a friend.”

mason couldn’t hide his surprise at her admission. despite being drunk, mason did remember that she went to the club where he was at, the night that led to their situation now, with so many people in tow. “didn’t you have so many friends when going to the club?”

bitter smile still intact, serena looked up this time and levelled mason’s gaze. “welcome to the lonely life of a princess, mason mount.”

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