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xlovely-daydreamsx · 11 months

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IFHY CH. 1 (Miguel O’Hara x Reader)

God, he can’t stop himself now. Not with how you peer up at him through long lashes, eyes glazed over with lust. Not with how your tongue darts out to lick your lips and he thinks about capturing them in his own, biting at them until they’re red and swollen and that adorable pout is forever plastered on your face.

He watches your fingers glide under the waistband of his suit, manicured nails scraping lightly against the skin there and he almost moans.

How long had it been since he let another person touch him like this, or rather, at all?

Warnings: nsfw (18+), possesiveness, rough, mild blood, dirty talk, mentions of character death, you and miguel are both sad and bad at coping

Word Count: 4085

Note: This might be an ongoing series because I have So Many Thoughts. Feel free to send me asks about anything confusing, and let me know if I should continue to post this here or not... IFHY is a Tyler the Creator song, which y’all should listen to - it’s my Miguel’s anthem basically lmfao. ANYWAYS pls enjoy i appreciate u all!

When the spiders begin to infect your world, you know the only person who can keep things under control is you. At least, you’re the only one anyone would hold accountable if they decided to do something… unsavory, and if the large black hole in the middle of New York City was indicative of anything, it was that the spiders were nothing but trouble.

Peter called you first, because he always did.

“Uhm, boss lady, there’s some other Spider-Men here, and they want me to join some secret society? I think I’m being recruited into the Illuminati…” he trails off, obviously whispering into the phone. Since your father had passed, Peter had sort of… leaned on you, in a sense. You hadn’t any recollection of meeting the boy despite his Avenger status, but he looked at you with so much melancholy in his gaze that you knew he must see something of Tony in you, and you’d allow it simply to make yourself feel better. Nobody thinks you’re anything like your dad, but on days like these, you can only wish you were.

“I’ll be right there, Pete.” You mumble back, setting his location into KAREN and heading out, thick black wings spreading behind you, launching you into the night.

The explosion comes moments after.

You see it in the sky - a clash of black and white that seems unworldly, knocking the wind from beneath your wings and sending you flying back, tumbling towards one of the hundreds of towering buildings in New York.

Crack. You hear it as you collide, feeling the dig of concrete and glass into your back - a feeling you’re all too familiar with, and yet it seems like so long ago that you had felt it last. It’s almost… exhilarating.

You steady yourself with a foot against the building, launching yourself off of it and back towards the wreckage of whatever unfortunate event was unfolding in your city.

You watch beeps, signaling your close proximity to Peter and you begin your descent to him.

It was horrible, really, how excited you were at the idea of a fight. The last time you had been involved in something like this was with him by your side… maybe if everything went awry, you could join him soon enough.

There’s a huge fucking hole in your city, you realize as you approach.

“KAREN,” you speak into your wrist as you glide by, “send the bots out to scan and contain the area.” She replies with a conformation, but you’re too transfixed on the pit beneath you. It’s horribly, endlessly back, and you feel yourself being tugged towards it ever-so-slightly as you fly.

You need to find Peter, and fast.

You see the other spiders before you see yours. There’s three of them, all with striking blue and red suits, drawing your eye in curiosity. They all looked so… different. You expected some evil version of Peter, red eyes and big fangs and very obviously variants of your Spider-Man, but the crowd that greets you is nothing of the sort.

You plummet down to the surface, positioning yourself in front of your spider. His suit glimmers with gold and metals- a suit your dad supposedly had made for him.

Looking at it makes you a little queasy, and you fight the urge to stare at your palms, covered in the same glittering metals.

“(Y/N)!” Peter sounds so relieved. He’s always happy to have that weight off his shoulders, free of carrying the burden all on his own. You wonder how long he’d been doing so before you recruited him into the New Avengers.

You wonder how anyone could give up control like he can.

“I guess you guys haven’t gotten the memo,” you gesture at the trio of spiders in front of you. A biker chick, a ballerina, and the biggest fucking beefcake you’ve ever seen in your life; it’s somehow not the weirdest group of friends you’ve seen in your days in the city, “but Earth-616 is closed for tourism and immigration. I don’t care what planet, galaxy, dimension y’all are from, but you need to leave.”

“Sorry, pendeja, we’re not here for you. This is obviously Spider-Man business, no?” The beefcake speaks, strolling towards you leisurely. His arms are crossed, horribly large things that strain under the fabric of his suit. You smile warmly at him, cocking your head.

“Mmh, no.” The smile drops, “I am Earth-616’s representative, not Spider-Man.”

“I work for her!” Peter points at you, nodding to the other Spider-People. You try not to cringe.

“That’s your problem, not mine. My problem,” he points behind you at the gaping hole in the city, “is that.” He’s closer to you now, absolutely looming over you, and it’s then that you realize how truly large he is. You’d always been on the smaller side of the scale, but his stature was all encompassing, his shadow engulfing you with no effort at all.

You watch as his eyes drift down to you, then back over your head at the pit, and with a little jingle on your watch, you’re prompted to bring your eyes to it, too. Your drones had arrived, and were making quick work of scanning the hole and surrounding areas.

“Don’t worry, little buddy,” you reach up and pat his arm - oh my God, he’s rock fucking solid, “I’m already taking care of it.”

He practically growls at you, “You don’t have the technology to take care of it; we barely do, and this is our specialty.”

“Was that supposed to sound impressive?” He grimaces, “It’s okay to admit that someone’s better than you.”

The scowl he gives you sends a shiver down your spine.

“Look, I don’t have time to argue with some… little girl, okay? That hole could destroy your universe, do you understand? Now, step back and let us do our work.” You simply watch him as he steps past you to the ledge of the building, rocketing himself off of it. He flies for a minute, rather impressively, you might add, but it isn’t long before he approaches the hole and slams into something transparent, a ripple of blue emanating from where he collided with your drones’ protective barrier.

You turn to the other spider-people, who you can tell are trying to hold back laughter.

“Now, are we open to collaboration?”

Your house is so empty. Apartment, penthouse, whatever you want to call it, it was always the same when you got back. No laughter, no steps echoing through the hall, no glasses clinking in the kitchen. It’s just you and the ghosts of the life you’ll never get back.

So, when you enter the penthouse with a visitor in tow, the sound of his footsteps following close behind you - something other than the sound of your keys jingling and your ragged breathing - it almost feels alien to the space around you. This home wasn’t meant for people anymore; this was your silent prison.

But it’s comforting in a way. It feels familiar… melancholic.

“You’ve got this whole place to yourself?” He lets his eyes wander over the space as you lead him down the hall, past the kitchen and towards the stairs.

“Yup,” you say with a pop of the P, sounding characteristically unenthusiastic about it. What you wouldn’t give to have that be untrue.

“It’s not as fun as you’d think it would be,” you lead him down the stairs, down, down, down towards the lab. Your father’s lab, which you haven’t bothered to enter in so many months. You had let Sam and Rhodey take whatever they wanted, but you hadn’t bothered to look. There was nothing worth seeing down here, anyways.

“I know it’s not,” he replies like it’s the most casual thing in the world, like everyone knows what it’s like to be totally, truly alone like you, “the silence is… too much.”

You don’t know how to respond, so you simply type in your code, allowing the glass door to slide open for him. The room is big, much bigger than you remember but somehow suffocating all the same.

You realize after a moment that there isn’t a single suit left in the lab, and you wonder if they really needed them, or if it was some kind of kindness for you.

You elect to stop looking.

“Make yourself at home, big guy.” You say, making quick work of cleaning your desk by simply wiping it all onto the floor with a clang. You don’t know what it was going to be, nor do you care to - he wasn’t there to help you finish it, and you had more work to do than ever. “KAREN, pull up our data on the big hole, please.”

‘Our earlier scans indicate that the hole is actually a large concentration of Anti-Matter,’ her robotic voice thrums through the room, holograms of information popping up all around you, ‘our drones have managed to contain it for the time being, but it seems to be trying to expand within the barrier’s perimeters.’

“I have one of those, too,” Miguel says behind you, too close for comfort. His presence is all-encompassing, casting you in a shadow,

“A big hole?” You cock your head, and he only shakes his head disapprovingly.

“LYLA, pull up our data to compare.”

Another voice chimes as a little woman appears in front of you, a pout on her face.

“What, I don’t get a please? KAREN got one,” her eyes drift to you, “can I work for you instead?” Miguel just sighs, fingers pinching the bridge of his nose.

“Now, please, LYLA.” She smiles, and your blue holograms are soon accompanied by orange, merging together in a technicolor lightshow in front of you both.

“A lot of this data actually overlaps,” LYLA says, flickering in and out of view all over the room, inspecting everything you have to offer, “but your drones missed a few key components.” She expands a few pieces, covering you in the orange light of her holos.

It’s times like these that you wish you really were Tony Stark’s daughter- then you might have a tiny bit of his intelligence to understand what was in front of you.

You’d figure it out eventually, though - you always do.

You can’t help but notice how much he looks at you. Your work had been rather silent so far, only small comments made when absolutely necessary on his part, but his eyes say more to you than anything else. Deep, dark circles that match your own, watching every move you make. Every bend, stretch, turn - his eyes are on you, tracing your delicate form.

You were well aware of the effect you have on men. Since you were young, much too young, you had known - you were the cover of Playboy at 16, Vogue and Cosmo in the following years, now too many to count. Teenage heartthrob (Y/N) Stark, just as wild and untamed as her father had been. At least, that’s always what they had said. You never tried to seduce anyone, but who wouldn’t want to be on their knees for a Stark?

Miguel, apparently, because every time you would catch his gaze he would avert it, avoiding your attention like the plague. He’s like a wild animal, cornered, threatened, by you. By your mere presence.

To be completely honest, it bothered you. Everyone wanted you, would try to take a bite whenever opportunity arose, so what was so special about him? Why wouldn’t he try?

If you know anything, it’s that men love the chase.

And yet he won’t chase you at all.

It’s… irritating, you decide, but a good challenge nonetheless.

“You know,” you say, breaking the silence. You find yourself approaching his workspace, feet moving without any real thought behind it.

“You look lonely,” your hand trails against the desk and he watches as it glides across the sleek metal, his shoulders tense but unmoving, “We could keep each other company.”

You’re in front of him now, his knees slightly spread as he sits, and you knock them with your own to make room for yourself, sinking in between the space he makes for you.

“(Y/N),” he practically growls, and you know he wants it just as much as you do. You know he doesn’t think he deserves it. You know it’s an act of self punishment, so you ignore it.

Your hand glides across the fabric of the suit straining against his thick, muscled thighs. You trail higher, higher up to the V of his hips and he releases a shuddering breath. Fingers searching until they find the button they’re looking for, allowing the lower half of his suit to release.

“Do you want me to?”

“Do you want me, too?” She asks him, her touch featherlight on his skin. She sets him ablaze, sending shivers wracking his body and a growing heat in his groin that he hasn’t felt in so long, save for lonely nights in his quarters, fisting himself shamefully in the shower and washing the evidence of his crimes down the drain. He needs it more than he’s willing to admit, and the way your voice echoes in his ears, soft and sweet and innocent. He can’t bring himself to tell you no, even though he knows you’d never ask him such a thing if you really knew him. But you want him, and it’s been so long since someone has wanted him, so he simply threads his fingers through your hair.

He watches your fingers glide under the waistband of his suit, manicured nails scraping lightly against the skin there and he almost moans.

How long had it been since he let another person touch him like this, or rather, at all?

You pull the waistband down, down until his cock springs out of its place under the fabric, the head already pink and dripping.

Jesus, he looks so large compared to you. Your hands barely fit around it, the length of it seemingly almost as big as your head. You were so small, though - everything about you was small, and yet you acted so much larger than life that he had forgotten how fragile you appeared to be. He can’t forget it now, though - not with the comparison right in front of him; not with the way you were on your knees for him.

You place small kisses against his length, moving ever higher and leaving a trail of spit behind that left him aching. You sent him a coy smile before you licked against his tip, precum smearing on your lips like gloss. You take the head in easily, tongue swirling across the slit in a way that makes his hips buck up, but you keep your composure, a small hand against his pelvis to push him back down.

He reaches for it, taking your wrist in his hand, which completely engulfs you.

“Muñeca,” he lets out a shaky sigh, “I know you can take it.” No more words are needed - he knows you understand with the way you gaze up at him, your jaw going slack and your tongue laying flat underneath his cock. He tightens the hand in your hair and pushes you down, thrusting deep into your throat. He keeps pushing, fucking into you like a fleshlight, feeling the warm wetness of it with every motion. He wanted to mould you to the shape of his cock, have you still feel the ghost of him every time you swallow, missing the feeling of choking on him.

You gag around him but stay lax, pliant - obedient. Those eyes, God, glossy and tearful, but wanting. You want this, him, you want him, you want him-

He pushes your head down to his pubes, holding you there as your throat constricts around him and he cums deep, an iron grip keeping you in place as he empties into you.

With a rough shove, you’re off his cock and you stumble backwards off your knees, catching yourself on your hand as you cough. He barely gives you a second before an impossibly large hand grabs your face, fingers pushing roughly into your jaw.

“Show me,” he commands, and you oblige without complaint, mouth open and tongue out with an aah.

“Mi niña buena, no? So hungry for my cum.” He says, and you have the audacity to smile, nodding with your eyes shut lazily, nuzzling slightly into his grip.

He can’t control himself a second longer.

He grabs you harshly by the arm, pulling you upwards into his lap and straight into a kiss. He can’t help but growl into it, too much teeth on his end but he needs to feel in control, like he can capture you with every swipe of his tongue into your mouth and every nip against your bottom lip.

He thinks he tastes blood.

His hands find your thighs and he lifts you up, claws digging into your soft, supple skin as he drops you on the desk, pushing you with a harsh hand against your chest. Your back hits the table, cold metal against the part of your skin unveiled by your shirt riding up high on your back.

Miguel doesn’t have time to undress you, no time for tenderness or patience. Instead, he rips at your shorts, his animalistic claws tearing through the fabric of both them and your undergarments, leaving you bare below the waist and he takes it all in eagerly, eyes scanning every part of your body. He pushes your shirt upward, exposing your breasts kept carefully under a plain, black bra. One swipe of a claw and that falls away, too, leaving you completely exposed.

You don’t even look embarrassed.

Miguel is the one falling to his knees now, coming face to face with your bare pussy like a man praying at the altar, and it’s with closed eyes and shaking palms that he buries himself into it, tongue lapping incessantly at your folds.

He eats like a starving man, tongue flicking against your clit over and over until your back is arching inches above table, white knuckling the edges of it as abuses your sensitive cunt.

The lust coursing through him threatens to tear him apart, so he braces himself with hands on your thighs, claws digging into the skin and leaving you with a hot pain to accompany the unending pleasure he’s giving you.

He sucks against your clit and your hand instinctively reaches for him, threading into his black locks and rutting against his tongue as you cum hard, harder than you ever have by yourself, alone in that room with your multitude of toys. Despite the many men you had been with, nothing could have prepared you for the beast that sits between your legs, eyes dark with a hunger that threatens to swallow you whole.

“Miguel, please,” You don’t even know what you’re begging for - more, mercy, you aren’t sure, but his figure is looming over you in seconds, his cock already hard once again as he rubs the tip against your sopping wet entrance, slick sounds echoing in the room along with your pants.

“Gonna fill you up with my cock, chiquita. Fill you up and stretch you out. Fuck,” he bares his fangs and you moan, “you want it, baby? Tell me you want it.” He grabs you by the jaw again, fingers gliding across your blood stained lips. “Ask your papi real sweet like.”

You can tell he wants it just as much as you do, feeling the heat from his cock against you, his precum adding to the slick of your cunt, but you want to beg him, want to obey, so you oblige.

“Please, please, fuck, I want you inside me. Break me, Miguel, please.”

Break you - fuck, he could do that. Every part of his body threatened to; his sharp claws against your soft skin, strong grip and large hands on your delicate wrists, his towering frame over your own, much smaller one. He was Godzilla and you were fucking Tokyo.

His dick pushed into you entirely ungentle, his bestial tendencies apparent in everything he does. Your thighs are covered in scratches, some smeared with small lines of blood, and the constant mix of pain and pleasure makes your head spin.

He stretches you out thoroughly, his massive girth shoved into you inch by inch until he’s hilt-deep inside of you and you swear you can feel him in your womb.

He doesn’t waste any time, pumping in and out of you at a bruising pace, pulling you down to the hilt with every movement. You can barely think, head spinning, filled only with thoughts of the strong figure fucking into you like a dog in heat.

He’s so, so much bigger than anything else you’d ever had, and the way he stretches you open leaves your stomach in knots.

He’s in love with your pussy. The taste of you is like honey, your warmth engulfs his cock in a pleasure like no other- it’s like you were made for him.

He leans down and captures you into another kiss, broken up by your incessant moans with every thrust of him into your cervix. It’s all too much and not enough at the same time, and when he pulls out of the kiss and opts to leave trails of them along your neck, teeth nipping and gnashing at the skin they find there. Every part of this man threatens to consume you, and yet you give yourself up readily, wrapping your arms around his neck and digging your nails into his back as you moan.

He growls against your shoulder and you feel sharp teeth pierce into you, deep searing pain that rips a cry out of your mouth as your orgasm crashes over you. He fucks your through it, hard thrust after thrust until you feel him twitching inside you and he buries himself balls deep, cock pulsing as he fills you with cum.

Neither of you can bother to care about the implications.

He can’t help but stare down at you as you lay there, chest heaving and eyes half-lidded. You looked fucked, and it took everything in him to stop himself from fucking you again. Maybe he went too rough, he thinks as he stares at the bleeding bite on your shoulder and scratches littering your body, but when he pulls out and your pussy is gushing with your cum and his own, he can’t bring himself to regret it in the slightest.

“You took it so well, (Y/N).” The sound of your name on his tongue pulls you out of your stupor and you can only respond with a groan, your hand rubbing against your eyes.

You needed a shower and a nap.

You push yourself up onto your elbows and watch as he secures his suit back in place, the traces of your deeds only apparent on your soiled figure.

He presses a few buttons on his watch, and in a moment, a small, metal spider crawls out of it, making you furrow your brow as you watch him fiddle with it. Holding it by the leg, he holds it out to you, and you hold your palm up warily. It drops into your palm, skittering before settling itself in your grasp.

“All the data you need is compiled on that little guy. Try to take care of it, okay?” You nod, much too tired to speak.

Miguel’s eyes flit over you one last time, and the way his brow furrows leaves you wondering what exactly he’s thinking in that gorgeous head of his.

He takes one impossibly large step toward you, hand reaching for your face and it takes all your willpower not to flinch away from him. His grasp is gentle this time, thumb tracing against the soft curve of your jaw as he places a small, delicate kiss against your forehead.

“Take care, chiquita.”

And with that, he takes his leave, the light of his portal dimming as he exits, leaving you alone.

#miguel o'hara #miguel x reader #miguel o'hara x reader #across the spiderverse #into the spider verse #miguel o'hara x you #miguel o'hara x y/n #reader insert #x reader #miguel ohara #miguel ohara x reader

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xlovely-daydreamsx · 11 months

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can’t quit you / miguel o’hara

word count: 1642

tags: oral sex, size kink, friends with benefits, strength kink, slight angst, commitment issues

ao3 link: here

summary: you know what an addiction is, and the definition doesn't seem too far off.

a/n: i’d like to add a better graphic but the movie just came out. one day!

“This is practically breaking and entering,” you tease. You’re less than new to returning from work to a huge form sprawled across your couch. Miguel has no issue making himself at home, at least not in your apartment. You figure it’s a sign that you don’t scream at the sight of him, even if you’re stuck on how weird it is, coming home to a shadow at night and not being bothered. It’s part of his strange charm (and you secretly revel in the fact that he’s only this comfortable with you).

“Wouldn’t have to break in if you’d let me have a key,” he’s entirely serious.

“You know why that can’t happen,” you say, like you’ve had to say a dozen times. Any number of excuses come to mind. You’re emotionally intelligent enough to know that he’s emotionally unavailable, no matter what he says, or thinks.

“I can be your man,” he says with his typical resilience, “more, if you’ll let me.”

You don’t even know what more means, if he’s already in your apartment like it’s his, if he’s already been inside you like you’re his. What will one more step do? You know what an addiction is, and the definition doesn't seem too far off.

“Miguel…” He’s run out of reasons to refuse you. You’ve run out of reasons to refuse him. Nice reasons, at least. But knowing what’s good for you doesn’t mean that’s what you want.

He rises from the couch, and it is a rise. He normally towers over every piece of furniture in your place, over you. It doesn’t take much trying. You’ve wondered if it’s hard for him to always be the biggest thing in the room, but a guy like him probably likes that, likes being unavoidable.

Miguel only knows how to kiss one way, sloppy. When his lips meet yours it’s like all the desperate parts of him come out of hiding. His tongue grazes all parts of your mouth like there’s something sweet inside, and you whimper when you realize he’s swapping spit with you. Even his saliva runs a bit hotter. It makes you pull back, panting in lieu of straight up whining.

“Baby,” he says with your face in his hands, like he knows it’ll make you weak. You try to avoid his gaze but he catches your jaw, squeezed a little the way he knows you like. “No,” he sighs, long and heavy. “Don’t tell me you’re gonna say no now.”

“I’m not saying no…”

Miguel sinks to his knees and looks up at you like you take the wind out of his sails. Being able to look down at Miguel is a hard pill to swallow. “Gonna let me taste that sweet pussy again? Or are you gonna make me beg like you did last time?”

If you remember well, denying him didn’t end well for you the last time. You have flashes of being put in a press, legs to your ears with Miguel growling, talking about the feeling of your wet cunt on his dick, about how good you felt milking him, about how if he didn’t know any better he’d think you want his cum. You didn’t even know he could talk like that, talk about anything other than preserving and protecting. It’s like a switch is flipped when he’s with you, even if it’s been weeks or months between seeing him.

You give an inch and he takes a mile. Lifts your thigh over his shoulder so he can get at what’s between your legs. His hands travel up your thighs, gripping at parts of your flesh just to hear the sighs you make. When he goes under your skirt you expect to feel something, his fingers or tongue, but instead it’s just him breathing against you. Smelling you.

“You’re disgusting,” you whine, flushed anyway.

It doesn’t stop him, probably encouraging him instead seeing as he nestles his face in deeper, grabbing your hips so you can’t pull away. Your squirming only pushes him further into you. You can feel his nose bump your clit, and his tongue pushes fabric against your pussy.

“Miguel, come on.” You feel so ridiculous, even though he can’t see you.

“I want you to beg me,” you hear him say, “I want you to beg me like you made me beg the last time. Bet you feel just as needy as I did. I can hear it in your voice. so it shouldn’t be that hard.” He starts to palm you just to prove a point, dragging thick fingers up and down your slit. It doesn’t take long for you to start soaking through the fabric.

“Please,” you murmur, “pleasepleaseplease.”

“Please what?”

“Please, Miguel, touch me. Touch my pussy.”

“All you have to do is ask, baby.”

You feel him drag your underwear down your legs, toss it somewhere in the room. Then he’s free, free to pull apart your folds so he can see you clench and drip around nothing. He leaves you just like that, before you feel the heat of his tongue, lips following soon after. And it’s not just touching, it’s like he’s making out with it. You can’t help the throb that goes through you, and you’re sure he can taste it in his mouth.

You shiver at the heat of him, aggressive and persistent, not unlike a raging fire. Your body is torn between reactions, goosebumps on your flesh and sweat on your brow.

“It’s ok, baby,” he’s saying, sounding like he’s got a mouthful of you. “I won’t look at the faces you make. I know how embarrassed you get.”

Miguel slides two fingers in deep, and then starts curling. It doesn’t make much of him for you to feel split open. He’s big all over, everywhere where it counts.

“Cute,” he mutters, when you buck against his hand, “you still think you’re strong enough to get away from me.” His words have the intended effect. You feel powerless, so you give in. You’re barely standing on your own feet, his hand and shoulder and face giving you all the support you need.

“I know,” you moan, “I know, I can’t.” You feel yourself gone boneless in his grasp. He has you.

“Here’s what’s gonna happen: I’m gonna keep you on my fingers until you soak my hand, and then I’m gonna make us both come, okay.”

“Yes, yes, okay,” you agree without listening, “Miguel, please make me come.”

He takes away his fingers, but not before sliding them against your pussy again, like he’s trying to collect all that drips out of you. When he moans shamelessly into you, and you start to hear a slick sound, you realize that can only mean one thing.

“Are you…” You can’t say the words.

You can hear him fist his cock, spread what he took from you all over his dick, using it as lube. The sound of wet skin so loud you can almost see him. Shlick. Shlick. Shlick. You know how he gets when he’s pent up, how he leaks like a faucet if he hasn’t come recently. You’ve felt him throb in your hand, seen the dark look he gets when your hand can’t even wrap around him. Miguel moans like he knows what you’re thinking, and goes at you harder. You barely feel there, like he’s just using the taste of you to get off.

“You’re wet,” he slurs, like he’s confirming, “‘s gonna make me come.”

“Me too,” you sigh, high on the feeling of him. “I’m gonna come too.” But you can’t yet, not until you see. Your hands are clumsy and shaking as you fumble with the buttons of your skirt. You pop them out one by one until it all falls away and you can finally see Miguel.

He looks as debauched as expected. His jaw and mouth shine with what you’ve done to him, and when his eyes flicker open he looks like he’s under a spell.

“What’s wrong?” His voice is a lilting tease, “I thought you wanted me to make you come.” He looks you straight in the eyes as he leans back in, licks your clit until you whine. You’re right back on the verge of orgasm.

You know he’s close too by the way he shivers. It’s his tell, you’d realized the first time he fucks you. Miguel shakes like the pleasure is too much, and when it finally is you hear it rather than see it. Thick streams of his cum wasted on the floor beneath you. The sound of him so eleated, knowing it’s the taste of you that has him like this, has you right where he wants you.

You grab onto him as you come, feel his strong shoulders tense with the effort to hold you tight. He doesn’t let up with his mouth, licking up all of you until you shake from the stimulation.

It’s not surprising that you teeter when Miguel lets go of your legs, still weak from your orgasm. “Oh, baby,” he says, “if you needed to lay down you should have said so.”

You end up intertwined on the floor, his hand combing through your hair. You can hear him breathe deeply, and the peace of it threatens to send you into a deep sleep. It’s laughable to have him fawn over you like this, when in the morning you’ll choose to go back to separate lives, so much so that you can’t help but joke about it. “You treat all your girls like this?”

“There are no girls.”

“Sure,” you giggle, “so when I don’t see you for a month…”

You don’t believe him for a minute until you look at him, and his face is so honest, so genuine, that in the back of your mind you wonder if there could be a future for the two of you after all.

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xlovely-daydreamsx · 1 year

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I just binge read your Black Lab series, and oh my goodness <33

I absolutely love your writing, it's such a unique twist on the usual omegaverse fics that I've read

I thoroughly enjoyed it

And your characterisation of both Keigo and Touya was also so great, I really enjoy your writing :))

tysm !!! i have been obsessed with omegaverse since i discovered it- something about fighting against your instincts just to end up exactly where you were trying to escape from is a rlly interesting concept to me, and i feel like it makes for interesting characterization, so im glad you agree :)

#asks

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xlovely-daydreamsx · 1 year

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I’m so glad you are back. I’ve missed you so much. (Hope that doesn’t sound too creepy)

I look forward to to your updates and new stories.

tyyyy ilysm <3 thank u for sticking around, friend !

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xlovely-daydreamsx · 1 year

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How would a yandere hawks celebrate his birthday with his darling

If he's still in the stalking stage, he would leave you tons of unwarranted gifts in the days leading up to it.

Flowers, notes, a book or piece of jewelry you had been eyeing in the shops recently (but can't remember mentioning to anyone).

It seems... innocent, for the most part, but it's still unnerving to wonder who would go to this extent.

Maybe one of your friends playing a prank?

On the day of your birthday, after a night on the town with you hero friends (and maybe a few too many drinks), you unlock your apartment door with unsteady hands and throw your shoes into the corner of the hall.

It's dark, as it always is this late at night, but you're surprised to find sobering illuminating the end of your hallway.

You make your way down it, wondering if you just happened to leave a light on in your haste to meet your friends at the bar.

You weren't expecting the cake that sat eerily on your kitchen table, candles half melted.

"Happy birthday, Angel."

Really, what better gift could he give you than his undying love?

#yandere #yandere fic #yandere x reader #x reader #yandere bnha #yandere hawks #fanfiction #hawks x reader #takami kiego #kiego takami #askbox #request

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xlovely-daydreamsx · 1 year

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do you have a masterlist? If not will you create one someday? I like to read your fanfics more but I'm having a hard time finding them😭😭

hi, i do have a masterlist now :) its pinned on my page

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xlovely-daydreamsx · 1 year

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please send me star wars related requests bcuz i need my creative juices to flow and i am currently obsessed ;-; just finished clone wars n anakin's origin movies

#star wars #sw clone wars #sw cw #clone wars #obi wan x y/n #yandere #yandere fic #yandere x reader #x reader #anakin skywalker #anakin x reader #clone wars anakin #star wars ahsoka #star wars rex #star wars requests #star wars reader insert #star wars x reader #yandere star wars

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xlovely-daydreamsx · 1 year

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it’s so nice to see you back!! hope you’re doing okay <3

tysm <3 i am actually doing great! i hope u are as well

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xlovely-daydreamsx · 1 year

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WELCOME BACKKK!!!! THE NEWEST CHAPTER OF BLACK LAB 10/10💕💕

TYSM !!! i was actually rlly proud of that chapter,,,

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xlovely-daydreamsx · 1 year

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Black Lab (Yandere!Hawks x Reader x Yandere!Dabi) Ch. 7

Find Chapter 1 Here

Find Chapter 6 Here

Summary: Toya takes you to his office, and you start to realize that you’re in a bit over your head.

Notes: OMG long time no see ! im sorry it took so long for me to get back to it, but i hope you’ll all be happy with this chapter! im actually kinda proud of it lol

ive made a couple posts about it already, but if youd like to see wips of this story and others before there posted, as well as early access to whole chapters, consider joining my patreon ! its only $1 a month and i would greatly appreciate the support :) love u all, and i hope u enjoy

With only a small argument, you’re able to convince him that you don’t need him to buy you a new outfit, and instead retreat back into your home to find something more… fitting.

You reemerge wearing a short floral dress that leaves little to the imagination, the image of your middle school choir concert appearing in your head at the sight of it; maybe you’ve grown just a tad.

Touya flashes you a devious grin as you open the car door, teeth sharp and glistening in the side of his smile. You can’t help but think of the last time you saw him and those fangs of his, his form fitting button-up in much better shape than the last time you saw him in it.

You blush at the thought of it, remembering the way his lips felt on yours, how his teeth dug into your skin.

You could be sick.

“The tomboy thing really doesn’t suit you,” he says. You suppress a shiver as his eyes rake you over- he never ceases to make you uncomfortable, “omegas are supposed to show off a bit more; your body’s your best selling point.”

Your brow furrows, cheeks heating up.

“What kind of backwater fucking-” You want to tear him a new one, bear your own meek little fangs and dig into him, watch him bleed, make him understand what it’s really like to be an omega, but when his large hand comes straight toward your throat, you can’t help the way you spring back from it. The door handle digs into your back, a dull sting compared to the rising panic that encapsulates the rest of your body as you struggle to wrap your hands around it.

You feel a slight sense of deja-vu.

“Those goddamn patches of yours,” please, please handle, where are you, “you’re mine, and everyone should know it.” Your hand finally closes around it, pulling erratically, but instead of the saving grace of cold, hard concrete, you don’t move a muscle.

You watch Touya flash that devious grin once more before his fingers find the edge of your scent blocker, pulling it off inch by painful inch.

“Baby lock, baby,” he laughs.

You don’t find it funny.

The rest of the drive is spent in silence, tears stinging in the corner of your eyes that you refuse to let fall. Having your bite marks out makes you feel exposed in a way you’ve never felt before… like everyone in the world has seen you naked all at once.

He pulls the car into the parking lot of a very large building in a very nice part of town that you’ve obviously never stepped foot in before.

“We have to make a stop at my office before we meet Kiego for dinner,” he explains as he puts the car in park, and you can’t pry your eyes away from the bulging veins in his hand and the muscles that strain underneath his shirt with the movement, becoming acutely aware of how small your arms are in comparison.

“Can I stay in the car?” You mumble weakly,

“And have you run away? I don’t think so,” he opens his own door and then makes his way around to yours. Child lock.

“It’ll be quick, so try not to complain too much.” You only roll your eyes, not keen enough to dignify him with a response.

You really can’t get a read on this guy. Kiego obviously got annoyed with your antics, but he seemed more concerned with worshiping the ground you walk on than trying to tell you off. Toya, however, treated you more like a wild animal than a soulmate or whatever they like to call it.

He holds you by the shoulder as he walks toward the building, another reminder of how much bigger and stronger he is than you, feeling like he could engulf you completely with only one palm.

With a swipe of a card, the doors open with a click and he leads you through them.

The place is… fanciful, to say the least. Marbled white floors glistening beneath your feet, a golden chandelier twinkling above your head, and a woman you swear could be a model sitting behind the curved, white reception desk fitted to the side wall. Her head cocks up at your entrance, but the sight of Toya, you’re assuming, has her launching out of her chair and bowing her head.

“Good evening, sir,” she starts, making her way around the desk and only sparing you a fleeting glance, her brow slightly furrowed, “I didn’t expect you in the office so late today.” And with only a brief pause, she adds, “and with a guest, no less.”

He doesn’t even spare her a passing glance, heading straight for the elevator in the back.

“This is my omega,” he says dryly as the doors open, “keep an eye on her while I’m working, would you?”

“Oh!” her voice is alarmingly high. “I didn’t know you had an omega.”

“I suppose it never came up.” The elevator door shuts with a ding, and you and the girl stand uncomfortably still, eyes still glued to the cold steel where a man stood only moments ago.

It's horribly awkward but you can't find it in yourself to try to smooth things over, so instead you find yourself cocking your head to the side and giving her an easy sort of grin- the kind you'd give to snarky assholes at school that screams 'I couldn't give less of a shit.'

"Well,” she huffs, “it's lovely to meet you. My name is Kimiko," God, she should’ve chosen Broadway over whatever the hell this job is, because the faux smile she gives you back is award winning.

“I’m sure,” are the only words you can muster up.

It’s awkward, so painfully awkward while you both stand there, not knowing what to do with yourselves. She obviously expected you to introduce yourself, to spark a conversation, something, but you had no energy for Toya or his jockeys, so you kept your mouth shut.

“Um,” she finally speaks, “let me take you to our lounge- maybe I can get you some water? Or, uhm… juice. Are you… old enough to drink?”

The question startles you a bit. You knew that Toya and Kiego were older than you, but you hadn’t really considered how much older they were. You should be out with your reasonably-aged friends right now, partying and having fun like a normal eighteen year old, but instead you’re here- a sterile office building - being babysat by a woman at least five years your senior, being looked down upon as nothing more than a plaything for her boss.

“No,” a chuckle escapes your lips at the absurdity of it, “isn’t that just horrible?”

She seems stunned. Eyes wide, brows furrowed as she stares at you quizzically. You’ve only now noticed how she’s bent at the waist, leaning down to talk to you.

“Oh, no,” she starts walking now, gesturing for you to follow, “youth is a great gift, you know… I’d kill to be that young again.”

You can hear your feet dragging, squeaking against those horribly clean floors.

You hope it scuffs.

Not another word is exchanged between you both until she opens the door to what you’re assuming is the lounge she spoke of earlier.

It looks like a standard breakroom, save for the fact that it's ten times bigger, fancier, and cleaner than any you’ve ever seen. A full kitchen sits on the right side of the room, as well as a decently sized dining table. A man with long, black hair is scrubbing dishes.

On the other end of the room is a large L shaped couch, occupied by one seemingly out-of-place, scruffy looking boy with a gameboy. Another man, who you would assume at first glance to be a bodyguard, is pounding his fist against the T.V.

It doesn’t look like it’s plugged in.

The man at the sink looks over at the two of you as you enter, flashing you both a polite smile.

“Ah, Kurogiri! I thought you would have gone home by now.” She seems pleased at the sight of him, her shoulders relaxing.

“Dabi asked us to stay late,” the boy from the couch keeps his eyes glued on the game as he speaks, “extra backup in case things go south.”

“We should just kill the fucker,” the banging against the T.V. stops. The blonde scratches his head as he continues, “but the boss wants us to play nice.”

You glance over at Kimiko, who has become increasingly more sweaty by the second.

“How about I introduce you all to…” she pauses, all four sets of eyes in the room glued to her, “I’m sorry, hon, I don’t think I caught your name.”

“It’s (Y/N). Nice to meet you all.” You’ve never been the socially inept type; sure, you had your fair share of social anxieties, but you were pretty good at putting them aside for the sake of being polite. You’re not too concerned with the sentiment now, however, because you didn’t think these were the kind of people you wanted to make friends with.

You didn’t think these were the kind of people that would work in a place like this, though, either.

“This is Mr. Todoroki’s omega,” she supplies, and you can smell the change of emotion in the room. Even the beta next to you had reeked of nerves the entire time, but the air was so thick with it now that you swear you could choke.

“I didn’t think Dabi was into that sorta thing,” the boy on the couch chuckles as Kimiko sends him a look that screams ‘shut up’.

“Anyways,” she composes herself, “the man over here is Kurogiri,” the man at the sink doesn’t stop smiling, and you can’t help but notice that he really doesn’t smell like anything.

“That’s Jin,” the blonde waves at you excitedly, “and this is Shigaraki.”

The boy stands, striding towards you leisurely until he’s practically toe-to-toe with you, and despite how small he looked scrunched up on the couch, he was much taller than you.

You hear Kimiko tell him off, but you’re too busy staring upward and into his unnaturally red eyes to pay her any mind.

His stench is overwhelming and all-engulfing, like leather and liquor and alpha in a way that makes you want to turn tail and run.

“A cute lil’ thing like you shouldn’t be with a brute like that,” his hand hovers slightly near the right side of your neck, bite still freshly red, ripped skin making your panicked struggle apparent to anyone who pays enough attention, “they’re gonna break you, doll.” The corners of his lips crack when he smiles, red and irritated and scary.

It’s barely another moment before an arm comes between you two and he backs away, hands in the air like he’s at gunpoint.

But one more moment and you realize, with a start, that he is at gunpoint.

Toya stands in the doorway, a gun you wouldn’t know the name of sitting comfortably in his grasp, pointed straight at Shigaraki’s head. Kurogiri stands next to him, wholefully unfazed.

Ah, now you can smell him. Your alpha’s scent surrounds you, the campfire musk he exudes now smelling more like a house fire, burning in your nose with a sourness that makes you want to whimper and hide.

“Relax, Dabi, I was just jokin’ around with her. Right, (Y/N)?” He’s still got that look in his eyes, that glint of mischief, like he’s teasing you.

You swallow thickly, giving him a nod.

After a small pause and a silence that feels like it lasts an eternity, Toya shoves the weapon into his coat with a huff, his heavy arm coming around you, holding you against his side. His smell hasn’t calmed down, but neither has Shigaraki’s; the combination makes you feel ill.

“Give the building a once over for bugs and you can go home. Don’t call me.”

And with that, he leads you out of the room by the shoulders, grip so tight it almost stings.

Toya could kill that little fucker; would’ve blown his brains all over the break room if it weren’t for you, if you hadn’t looked like you were about to faint from fear next to him. Your smell alone made him want to drop everything and hold you, but another part of him wanted to rip out Shigaraki’s throat with his teeth. He knew the man was just doing it to push his buttons, but he wasn’t exactly keen on jokes and banter when it came to you. You’re his - plain and simple - and the bite he so graciously left on your neck should be enough of a sign for other alphas to stay away.

Once you both get to the car, you feel his hand come up and around your throat, holding you tightly enough that you cough from the pressure.

“What the hell were you thinking?” He growls.

You’re always acutely aware of the effect an alpha can have on you. Even before the bonds, you knew that, if an Alpha really wanted you, they could take you. You’re small compared to most, not exactly the athletic type, and God, your hormones are sensitive. With the right kind of command and a hint of a scent, any Alpha could put you on your knees no matter how much you fought it.

So yeah, you were used to the fear and caution when it came to Alphas.

This, though… this was different.

Every rational thought in your brain was fight, scream, run, but your body didn’t get the memo, couldn’t understand anything but submit.

Your legs shake, threatening to buckle underneath you and it’s almost all of your energy to keep yourself upright. You hear yourself whimper, feel your neck crane to bear your mark, the one your alpha gave you.

You won’t mention the growing feeling of slick between your legs.

“I’m-” you’re what, sorry? You didn’t do anything, didn’t have anything to justify to this man, this stranger. You wish you could curl into a ball and cease to exist.

“You’re mine, you understand? If I ever see another alpha put his hands on you, I’ll blow his fucking brains out.” You see his hand move to his side, grasping what you now know is a gun.

“Do you understand me?” He shakes you by the throat a bit, eliciting another pathetic whimper from your mouth.

“Answer me,” you shake your head a bit, but he’s not satisfied, giving you another tight squeeze, “use your words, Omega.”

“Yes,” you mumble, his eyes bearing into you, “yes, Alpha.”

His hand moves down, holding you by your front with an iron grip, and you barely get a second to catch your breath before he pulls you into a kiss.

It’s rough, all tongue and teeth and nips of his fangs that make you taste blood.

He’s like a heatwave, burning you up, engulfing you until you can fight no longer, can only submit to the scorching feeling in your gut, in your soul. He’s all around you and you start to wonder where you end and he begins.

But it’s over as soon as it starts, and your stumbling backwards, panting.

“Get in the car.”

Taglist: @mirayasimpinghard @kunaigirlx44 @dabis0bitch @ladywolf44005 @imunderurbed @jamerlynn @underratedmage @maggiecc @chaichaiiskai @coffeeginie @prettybitchfatwitch @ashheart10 @aphroditedahlias @strawberry-goat

#yandere #hawks x reader #yandere hawks #yandere hawks x reader #dabi x reader #yandere dabi x reader #yandere dabi #yandere dabihawks #yandere x reader #x reader #reader insert #yandere bnha #yandere mha #bnha x reader

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xlovely-daydreamsx · 1 year

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xlovely-daydreamsx masterlist

a lot of you have been asking, so here’s my formal masterlist for all my fics ! i will be updating this as new chapters release

but first, here are my links if you’d like to support my work :)

AO3

Patreon

Ko-Fi

Cashapp

full-length fics

Black Lab (Yandere!Hawks x Reader x Yandere!Dabi)

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

An Angel On My Shoulder And The Devil In My Heart (Yandere!Hawks x Reader)

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Ace of Hearts (Yandere!Zhongli x Reader x Yandere!Childe)

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

IFHY (Miguel O’Hara x Reader)

Chapter 1

headcannons and drabbles

BNHA

nsfw dabi and hawks / sex addict darling

shigaraki escaping darling

hawks top/bottom reader hcs

yandere kirishima and iida

yandere ojiro

Pokemon

yandere N and Allister (male reader)

yandere hop hcs

yandere leon and raihan / challenger reader

yandere milo and gordie

yandere sonia

yandere hau and gladion

Arcane

yandere silco hcs

yandere arcane women

yandere viktor / workaholic reader

Misc.

yandere steve harrington

ravenfire commission

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xlovely-daydreamsx · 1 year

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I. AM. ALIVE !!!

Hello loyal readers and fellow degenerates!!! I just lost my job, BUT that gives me time to finally update my stories! Black Lab is first on the update list, by popular demand, so I am writing it ASAP. The first bit of the chapter is up on my (brand new) patreon if anyone is interested, no pressure... there are going to be a few stories and WIPs that are only available on there, but all of my main stories will still be on my tumblr for free. Chapters will release early on there, but access to them is on the earliest tier for only $1 a month. Higher tiers will include a written request of your choice every month, as well as a few other perks if you’re interested in supporting my work :) you can also do so by sending me a ko-fi !

Here are all my links, and thank you all for being so patient with me. I love all your kind messages and comments- they really keep me going. Love you all <3

Patreon

Ko-fi

#yandere #black lab #yandere dabi #yandere x reader #yandere x y/n #hawks x y/n #yandere hawks #hawks x reader #dabi x reader

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xlovely-daydreamsx · 2 years

Text

Ace Of Hearts (Yandere!Zhongli x Reader x Yandere!Childe) Ch. 2

Summary: You wake up in an unfamiliar place; Childe makes a deal.

Notes: this has been done for like a week, but i wasnt sure if i liked it... i hope you guys enjoy it though! and sorry for any sloppiness- im posting this on tumblr mobile for once

Warnings: yandere, drugging, kidnapping, dark themes, a/b/o dynamics

The readhead approached Zhongli with a bit of a sneer; While both men were near the same height, Diluc had a domineering presence about him. His suit fit perfectly against his broad shoulders and brutish figure, flexing as his hand outstretched toward the other man.

"I suppose the best man won, as they say..." They shook, neither of the two smiling, "I hope you have fun... breaking her in. Something like that needs a strong hand." With one last tight squeeze, Diluc lets go and straightens his cuff links.

"Good evening, ladies," he says with a slight bow, taking his leave through the large auction hall doors.

"He's quite the hunk, isn't he?" Yae chuckled, but all Zhongli could muster was a scoff.

"Something of the sort..." He replies before taking his own leave, following the crowd out of the hall.

It's only a few days before Childe shows up at his door.

"When they told me it was you who had bought her, I could hardly believe it!" His nagging starts immediately, walking into Zhongli's foyer shamelessly.

"Where's the girl?"

"In the truck downstairs- the boys are gonna bring her up." Childe, seemingly having no shame, scopes out the room in awe, letting out a low whistle.

"Then what exactly are you doing in my house?" Childe pouts.

"What, I can't visit a friend?"

"Is that what we are?" Zhongli, arms crossed, stares at the redhead.

"Well, I would hope so..." Childe sighs, walking farther into the home and leaving Zhongli no choice but to follow.

"You know, I picked her out myself. I really wanted to keep her, even, but the boss said she was too valuable not to sell." He finds his way into the kitchen and sets himself down at the small granite bar. The walls of the kitchen were dark blue, dark wood paneling covering part of it and casting a somber mood over the room.

"I sure paid a fortune for her."

"And that I thank you for," Childe watches as Zhongli pulls out two crystalline drinking glasses and a bottle of whiskey from under the bar, pouring a finger for each of them. "I'm getting a really good paycheck this week."

"Glad I could be of service. Now, why are you really bothering me?"

The younger man shoots his drink back without a wince, smacking it back down onto the counter with a resounding clack.

"It would be bad for our image if people found out we were selling... unlicensed goods, for lack of a better term. So I want to help you train your new toy- it'll be beneficial for both of us." His finger intetwine themselves under his chin, that dazzling smile taking up most of his face.

"I'm not sure how your hands being on my property is beneficial to me."

"Not only does it make my business look bad, but it makes yours look worse if we have unwilling participants, right? Word spreads fast around these types of groups, and while some people might commend you for taking the 'traditional' approach, other people tend to find that very... illegal and immoral."

"She signed a contract, didn't she?"

"Well yes, but-"

"Then it's not a problem. Tell your men to put her in the upstairs bedroom." And with that, Zhongli finishes his drink, hoping to exit this conversation as quickly as possible.

Unluckily for him, Childe is incapable of giving up.

He follows behind him swiftly, the pair watching as Childe's men bring in what appears to be a large cage, seemingly for a dog. A sheet is draped overtop of it.

"Please, Morax- a favor for a friend."

Zhongli just sighs as they carry it up the staircase.

"I'll think about it."

That's all the confirmation Childe needs- his eyes light up, and his smile is brigher than ever.

"You won't regret this." He says, but Zhongli really, really thinks he will.

You don't know how long it's been until you fully regain your consciousness, but you feel like you have the worst hangover of your life. Your body aches and your head is pounding, but that's not exactly what catches your attention. What does, however, is the room you're in.

It's huge. Pristine, white walls and a large bay window draw your eyes, almost distracting you from the bed you had apparently been sleeping on.

And God damnnit, if it wasn't the comfiest bed you had ever been on. The pillows and comfortor were all white as well, and you wonder for a moment if maybe you had died and went to heaven.

You push yourself off to the side of your plush oasis, feeling like a baby deer as your legs wobble underneath you.

Movement makes you feel even sicker, and you can't help it when your legs fall underneath you, finding yourself on the cool, hardwood floor.

How the hell did you end up here?

Maybe you should've listened to your mother, known that you would never be smart enough to make it on your own- maybe if you had stayed at home, you wouldn't be caught up in this mess. Maybe you'd be okay.

But you're not okay, and you're stuck here- wherever here is- and you have to figure it out on your own, the way you've always done things.

It's a minute before you feel certain enough that you won't puke to try again. It's on unsteady legs and with a throbbing head that you make your way to the door, finding it unlocked, to your suprise.

If you were kidnapped, or, or sold, as you recall with a twinge of dispair, why would they keep the doors open?

You step out of the room cautiously, taking in your surroudings as well as you can in your disoriented state.

You had never cared much for princesses and such as a kid, but the scene in front of you looked like it was pulled straight from Cinderella's Castle. A grandiose staircase stands in front of you, a large chandelier illuminating the steps.

The walls around you are covered in yellow floral wallpaper, wooden trim, and large portraits of people you certainly wouldn't recognize.

You falter looking at them, wondering if your shaky legs could possibly carry you safely down them, but what other choice do you have?

None of these other hallways will lead you out of... wherever this is, you assume, unless you want to jump out of a window. So you take your chance, clutching the polished wood of the railing and slowly but surely making your way down.

Those stairs lead you into a foyer, large wooden doors in front of you and an expanse of shiny white tiles under your feet. A colorful bouquet of flowers sits on a table in the middle of the room, and two corridors head off to either side. You barely give them a glance before you shoot towards those doors, wondering partly what you'd do once you're out- you have no idea where you are or what could be on the other side- but it's the only choice you have.

You pull them hard, to no avail. They shake and shudder as you struggle, tears welling in your eyes. You're tired and sick and you just want to go home.

"I didn't expect you'd wake up so soon," You flich away from the door, turning swiftly on your heel to face the voice.

He's tall, you realize- much taller than you and handsome as you've ever seen; a domineering stare adorns his face. His suit is crisp against his strong arms and slim figure, and you wonder how silly you look in comparison to him, disheveled and small and insignificant.

"How are you feeling?" He asks, taking a long stride towards you, hands folded neatly behind his back.

You scramble away from him, your shaky legs faltering under you once again, causing you to fall on your ass in front of the man. He has the gall to frown at that, and offers you a hand that you do your best to shimmy away from.

"Where am I? Please let me go,"

"You're in the Morax estate, and subsequently your new home. Now let me help you off the floor." He reaches his hand out again, but another scurry and you're far enough from him that he huffs and retracts it.

"It's uncivilized to crawl around on the floor, you know?" You could almost laugh at that.

"Who gives a shit? You kidnapped me!"

"You weren't kidnapped; I bought you. You signed a contract, so you'll make do on it."

"Bullshit! I wouldn't- I would never do that." Part of you knows you would never, but the other part wonders what could have happened in the time you can't seem to remember, memories covered in a fog.

"I can show it to you, if you'd like, but you'll have to get off the floor." You scoff, but make your way up on unstable legs. What other choice do you have? This man seems to be your only viable option at the moment, save for jumping out of the first window you can find.

"And please try to calm yourself- I assure you I mean no harm, but your smell is... distressing."

Your hand instinctively reaches for your neck, checking for a bite or a patch and, with a sigh of relief, you find nothing out of the ordinary.

"I'm... scared," you say, rubbing at your scent glands, "I can't help it."

"You've got nothing to be afraid of, dear- I'm much less tempermental than your other option." You follow him down the corridor and into a kitchen, beautiful and probably more expensive than the entirety of your apartment building.

"My other option?" He gives you a side glance,

"Another bidder- a callous, unkind man with a love for little things like you; he has a surplus of Omega maids loitering around his estate, and he would've loved to add another."

That... definitely did not sound like a good alternative. But what do you know, right? You've been conscious for a grand total of ten minutes, and this guy could be lying to you. You could follow him into some secret sex dungeon and be absolutely clueless, because you've happened to make every bad mistake possible in the shortest amount of time.

You hate to admit it, but you're starting to think your mother was right.

"Please, have a seat." He gestures you to take a seat at a granite island, placed neatly in the center of the kitchen. The place is... nice. Ridiculously so- a palace to the likes of you, and you can only wonder what a man like this would want with a girl like you.

You eye the spot warily for a momenr before taking it, your body stiff and unnatural feeling. You wonder for a moment if you could be dreaming.

"I was speaking with your handler not too long ago, so I happen to have your contract on hand." He pushes a file toward you from the other side of the island, neat and tidy in a tan folder.

You flip it open, your eyes scanning the tiny, dark lines of text desperately. With the way your head was still pounding, you could barely make out anything of substance, and you pushed it back towards him with a sigh.

"Show me where it says anything important." The man doesn't falter for a moment, flipping through the pages until he finds his destination, and just as easily flips it toward you once more, fingers deftly dancing over the lines.

"Right here."

You scan it in disbelief.

'Servitude.'

'Possession.'

'Unfit for self-care.'

'Mentally incapacitated.'

"This has got to be a joke. This... I wouldn't sign this!" You try your best to remember the hours, days before you got here- piece together your blurred memories and find anything that could explain your situation.

You remember a stage.

Lights so blinding, crowd full of watchful, judging eyes. You remember the warm hands on your body, the sweat on the back of your neck.

And you remember the dress.

It had felt nice against your skin, tight but oh-so soft and lazily elegant. You remember how pretty you felt.

You remember the woman who gave it to you.

And finally, you remember the contract.

"I can find the page with your signature, if you'd like."

You place your head against the cool surface of the island, knotting your hands into your hair as your head throbs once again. You remember it all now- far too much for someone like you to bear, and yet it's made its home at the front of your psyce.

Your tears drip straight down, pooling on the shiny granite.

You realize morbidly that it sparkles.

He already loves the sound of your voice. Of course, he would've preferred to hear it in better circumstances, without the pained undertones and harsh words, but he's an understanding man- he knows you just need time to come around to it.

And your smell, oh, god, your smell- overwhelming and intoxicating, flooding his senses and reminding him of instincts he had often forgotten he had.

It hurt him to think that he was the cause of your fears, and subsequently the sour notes in your scent, the break in your voice, and the tears in your eyes that he wished to wipe away.

He had never seen such a reaction from an Omega; it was commonplace for the needlessly wealthy to spend their money on pretty little things like you, and most Omegas would consider it a privilege to be picked by someone of Zhongli's stature.

Change can be difficult for some; starting a new life in an unfamiliar place can be disorienting, so he's sure that's all it is- he's sure it's not him.

Your hair looks so soft as it pools against the counter, obscuring your face.

He had always considered himself a man of patience and poise. He had never had trouble with self control, always being able to keep his calm, but now he wanted nothing more than to break his composure and reach out to you. He imagined running his hands through your hair, cupping your rosy cheeks and staring into your tear-pooled eyes.

But he wouldn't, because he knows you need it more than he does.

You can repay his kindness someday, he supposes.

Taglist: @lumid0rk

#yandere #yandere genshin x reader #yandere genshin impact #genshin impact #zhongli x reader #yandere childe x reader #yandere zhongli #yandere zhongli x reader #childe x reader #yandere x y/n #yandere x reader #yandere fic #x reader #fanfiction #genshin x reader #genshin fanfic

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