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s0apysm1les · 2 years

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Yo can we get a yandere superman (or any character that fits) with a reader who has romatoid arthritis. They struggle to move around or can't handle the cold cuz of their bad joints.

oh gosh~ as someone with Ehlers Danlos I completely understand the bad joints thing. Some days I can hardly sit in bed without crying, let alone getting out of it. I would kill to have a superman take care of me too on those days~

.......

Yandere Superman x Arthritic Reader

Nothing More Mentality

CW: yandere thoughts/tendencies, reader has Rheumatoid Arthritis, gn!reader, implied stalking, pushy Clark

........

When first impressions are set upon, your new neighbor Clark Kent seems pretty distressed upon his first encounter of you gingerly nursing the joints in your hand. Your thumb pressed to the back of your other hand and rolling in circular motions to fight the sharp arcing pain that throbbed through the creaking area. He did not know you well enough to offer this, but he still (embarrassingly confidently) asked if he could be the one to massage your hand.

The quick-to-follow explanation of doing the same thing for his mother back on the farm was some sort of an ice breaker but you still wanted to tell him no... But... You said sure. And contrary to his demure demeanor, his grip was firm and his hands were large and hot while the movements of his fingers immediately had the tension in your body from being touched by a stranger to melt away.

Oh, oh my. He works at the Daily Planet with hands like these? He could be a world-class Masseuse with this talent and never see a day without business. It took you keeping these thoughts together that protected you from melting into his arms right there.

You stopped his ministrations and thanked him for the help. You weren't able to refuse his next request of accompanying you to wherever you were going - to make sure you got there okay, you were sure - And with this humanoid version of a Golden Retriever, you made your way to your apartment. He was very excited to let you know that his room was only four units down the hall from you.

He also seemed to miss the grimace-like smile you gave him back. Was this how they did things where he's from? You couldn't help the little invasive thought that he was making fun of you somehow. You were used to people not believing your need for breaks or your signs of pain just because you were younger than what they expected to be "reasonable" for someone with Arthritis. You really hoped this small town guy wasn't someone like them.

Judging by his accent its got to be from Arkansas or some place like that. He sounded like a country boy. He didn't seem to be quick on the trigger like them, but you learned to never judge by how they appear.

He bid farewell at the door and left you to your simple unit. You had bits and baubles of your hobbies set around each room and you walked directly to the cubby in your living room where you kept a majority of your medical items. While slipping on the compression glove, you couldn't help but think back to that guy once more... What was his name again? Clark...

...

After the introduction and a short pause, your life returning to its normal balance of blah days and lasting pains, you were surprised and distressed to find that you had forgotten your much needed pain medication while stuck at work. The clouds had rolled in thick and dark shortly after you clocked in and the pressure was making you feel like your joints would explode. You couldn't help but think that you'd want that to happen, if it meant there would be a momentary relief from the building and pushing and throbbing cold pain from under your skin.

The heavy rain and strong winds persisted through the day, and carried on well into the evening and almost prevented you from leaving. If it wasn't for your coworker Maria offering to drive you home, knowing you couldn't walk in this weather and in your condition. She dropped you off just in front of your building and bid you goodnight. The pain was tremendous but the relief of going home made you push through it. Up until another heavy gust led you to tumble and slam into a road sign. The solid metal rang loudly and your groan joined it and sat there slumped for what may have been two minutes.

A blur of blue joined you in the grey scenery of the concrete sidewalk and a strangely unique set of strong, hot hands held you and supported you into standing.

"Here, let me help you up. A citizen in need on a dark day is a fine neighbor." The deep cadence of heroism made his voice sound like ringing metal too.

Clark? You couldn't help the name coming into your mind. The way he talked reminded you of the neighbor.

The hand holding you stiffened slightly as you analyzed the Hero's face. There was definitely some familiar marks, the eyes, the cheekbones the smooth flawless skin. But it was the oddly warm hands that have become a regular second thought that almost made you sure.

You thought of him?

"Superman?" You asked slowly, slightly putting some of your weight into his grip to relieve the pain somewhat. "What are you doing here?" Shouldn't he be fighting crime.

"Even criminals today have seemed to hold off do to this harsh weather. I am thankful that this means I was here to help you, citizen." His hero voice kind of made you want to laugh, but you weren't going to let him know that.

"Let me help you get to your home. Is this your residence?" Superman quickly followed his previous statement as we gestured to the tall apartment complex before you. You nodded and almost yelped as he swept your feet into a Princess carry without warning.

He floats to your floor and down to your door at your direction. As he sets you down and bids a farewell he turns to leave before turning to face you one last time with one last message.

"Anytime you need a helping hand, don't be afraid to call. I can hear you no matter where you are!" He smiled and lifted an arm to wave "But there are others who can be heroes just as much as me, there is surely a neighbor here or two who can always lend a hand. This is Metropolis, where everyone is a neighbor and friend!" He turned and left surprisingly quickly and you went back home.

You were only alone for you to grab a towel and start drying your hair from the rain before you heard some heavy but soft knocking on your door. Opening it showed a nervous looking Clark.

"OH! Hey Clark. It's been a while! How are you?" You asked.

"Oh! I've been good. Did.. Did you just hear superman in the hallways too? I wonder why he was here." You look to him for a split second before deciding to let him know. He seems relieved you're okay and gives you his phone numbers, both his home and his rarely-used cell phone in case the same thing happens again.

"You don't need to do that, Clark. I just have some pains and they were really bad today-"

"I don't mind!" He interrupted you, startling you both. It seems that even he didn't realize that he could just cut you off mid sentence like that. He was a little pushy, you guess, but he means well and it wasn't as if you *had* to call him. So you accepted, talked for a little bit longer - where he acted like a beaten puppy for yelling at you.

Ever since then you've seen what is basically the city's celebrity way more often than you were used to. Lois Lane herself was constantly visiting your building while investigating scoops and meeting her friend who works above you. You also saw Superman - the object of her investigating - near your building. One stray wave to you as he flew past a window in front of her led to Lois constantly asking about the relationship between you two.

She was... a lot pushier about there being something between you and the hero than you liked. You told her up front that he had only helped you while you were hurt and was merely concerned over you as a hero and the denizen of the city he protects. She didn't seem to agree with your "Nothing more" Mentality. Especially when the Superhero descended in front of the two of you leaving the building to greet you before her.

This was only the second time that he had spoken to you and he was greeting you before *THE* Lois Lane? The woman he was supposedly in love with? What was going on in the world? Lois looked at you in that particular way that said "What did I say?" and you ignored it to greet the overly kind hero.

He greeted you first, pausing and turning to Lois with a brisk nod of his head and her name before turning back to you.

"Reader. How are you doing? Are you... well?" He asked slowly, one of his hands was in the other as he seemingly pressed on his palm in nervousness? What for?

"O-oh! I'm fine. Superman." You spoke quickly, unsure and frankly embarrassed at this scene unfolding in front of your company office. This was surely going to make tomorrow hell.

"I was wondering, if you have some free time, would you allow me to take you somewhere?" There wasn't anything that you had planned for the evening so you technically could say yes but you were really hurting today and you just wanted to rest at home with a comfortable blanket and an ice pack. You didn't even want to think of how hard walking home would be...

When it took you a second of thought to decide, the hero follows up with "Can I at least take you home? I would feel awful if you refused me at least that for burdening you with my request."

How did he always seem to know what was on your mind? You agree to him walking you home, but was startled when he lifted you up into a princess carry once again and began a steady flight above the buildings to your home.

The whole flight you thought about this and that, the people at work, the people you've met and everything going on and why your world suddenly flipped on its head and why a literal Alien Superhero went so far out of his way to take you home.

Your mind went wild the entire time that you flew in the calming body heat of the hero and you didn't notice if he was talking to you or not... He was not.

He was listening to your every racing thought and he felt his nervousness increase each time your thoughts directed themselves to why Superman was acting so *clingy*.

He wanted to cringe when you thought that but he didn't want to deny how often he thought about you. How strong and resilient you were, how small and cold your hand was on that rainy day... How ever since then he has only thought about you and had actually even slipped up and revealed his identity to Lois Lane. Why she supported his and your budding relationship, he couldn't figure out, but it definitely gave him an excuse.

He was just glad to have your frail body in his arms. And when he set you down in front of your door he listened to both your thoughts and you as you mulled over the words to say.

"Thanks... Superman... Say..." You slowly pull these few words out of the jumbled mess of your mind. You don't even realize what you say next until it's out of your mouth.

"Are you my neighbor?" ... Silence filled the narrow deserted space you two were in. He stood well over a head's height over you and you swallowed.

You couldn't get the nervous smile of Clark Kent first meeting you out of your mind. The same face that he had again now. Once you said it aloud you couldn't unsee the similarities.

"Wait, wait. Never mind that was just a joke! I don't-" You were starting to ramble and you stopped when you was his shoulders jumping. He was... laughing. Quietly laughing and he put his forehead in his palm as he kept laughing and his large shoulders kept rising and falling viciously. You were about to turn and try to get in your house because it was making you scared when he suddenly stopped- as if he heard your fear.

"I don't know how you found this out when no one else here has-" Not even Lois Lane? You wondered. "Not even Lois, but- Now that you did... will you let 'Clark Kent' walk you home when 'Superman' can't?" His unnaturally bright blue eyes scared you as they stared deep into your shaking soul.

That didn't sound like a request.

"This isn't a request." It didn't feel like one. You swallowed heavily, maybe you should've paid attention to the warning signs.

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s0apysm1les · 2 years

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Yandere All Might x F!Reader

So Strong

CW: Yandere themes, noncon, hero complex, obsession, kidnapping, size difference, threatening, graphic, referencing forced pregnancy

Yeah, Yeah. Try to say something about the title. The pun was pretty good.

....

you couldn't even taste the air in the sharp breath you just took. You were too focused on the arm that all too easily pinned you to the floor. You were mere inches from your bed and you were almost certain that if you were to try wriggling your fingers around, they would touch your hanging bedsheets.

The arm was hard as steel and equally cold as it, but what terrified you most was that it was as long as you are tall. From the middle of its palm to the tip of its elbow was your entire height, head to crotch.

Surely he hadn't intended this position to be so... lewd... surely... But the Hero seemed to have no intention of moving any time soon as he looked down at you and attempting to stare into your darting eyes.

"What are you doing, Reader?" His deep voice made the terrified whimper stick in your throat as a heat flashed over the side of your neck. A cool wetness followed after it and it took a few seconds to realize he lad licked you.

You wrack your brain, trying to remember how he had gotten you into this position as he sunk his head into the crook of your neck.

It had been a stroke of luck for him to encounter someone with a similar quirk to the young girl Eri that you've heard him mention in passing. But just like how each person was different, so were the quirks between them. The man didn't heal the former hero or regenerate his body to how it was before the battle so much as he "peaked him". The strange phrase was what the man had coined his quirk.

It was a transformation based quirk that alters the physical form instantaneously to the peak form it had at any point in its life. Toshinori's peak would have been roughly at age 23-27 and because of that, that was what his body looked like. No gaping wound on his side, no graphic disembowelment scar and no changing to and from Small Might for him any more.

Now he sat on top of you as an impenetrable wall of muscle and virility and wanting to show you just how strong he had become again. He had asked if he could come in under the guise of talking about something or other. You can't really remember how you even knew All Might at the moment. At least, not while he had you pinned to the ground beneath him as he was quickly taking things too far.

You felt the pressure of his arm across your chest increase as he lifted his other hand from beside your head. He trailed it down your torso, following along the shape of his other arm, before fisting the fabric above your belly button. You heard the material creaking slightly before the recognizable tear of fabric filled the air.

All Might's groan and the cold grip of his fingers on your bare skin made you jump and whimper loudly. The fear in your cry seemed to anger All Might as his aroused sneer turned into a glare.

"You've got your very own hero right in front of you." He spoke slowly, lowly, "And you want to act like you're terrified of some villain... You better start showing just how good you feel when I'm with you or I'll give you a reason to be afraid."

With that being said, the cold hand on your stomach slowly trails down to slip under the seam of your pants. A hiccup escapes your mouth when you feel the tips of his fingers brushing past your mound. There's an embarrassment you feel when he tugs on some of the hairs along the side of your opening and you cover your mouth with both hands when he does it again, harsher than before. It hurt.

"Look at me" You listen to his command and watch the cold blue swirl in his eyes as he ruthlessly slides two large fingers into you. You try to hold back the groan as your body curls and you clench harshly around the intruding digits. You were embarrassingly wet, you couldn't help the thrill in your body when he held you down. You wanted to say there was no shame in that, but as he held you down... there most definitely was shame on your face as he smirked at you. One arm still over your chest while the other purposefully squelched your juices while spreading you open.

You were about to beg him for something, anything, to get him to stop when another fat digit took the breath out of you. His three fingers were probably the size of your hand and considering the fact that you've never been stretched like this before, you were full on crying from the pressure and the pain.

With tears coming down your face, you finally put your hands out with the intention to grab on to him- either for support or for a feeble attempt to stop. You had no chance of pushing him off of you as he began pumping the three fingers faster and deeper as you reacted to his fingers by bobbing under his arm like a wave.

"Don't try to stop me now, Reader." He panted as he withdrew the fingers. Your blushing, tearstained face and too-small-hands on his biceps had made him harder and harder every moment he looked down into your needy little eyes. Your sticky juices covered the front of his pants as he undid the button and zipper of his jeans.

He felt himself straining from the other side of the fabric and took a moment to press against the tent harshly, rubbing what's left on his hand onto the front of his jeans as he looked at you. His throbbing cock slipped out from the opening and wept precum as he sighed in excitement. He looked to your form behind the twitching silhouette of his 10 inch erection. The cold glare in his eyes becoming heated as he looked at you crying and wriggling under his arm.

You didn't realize how much you needed him. You didn't realize the dangers of every day life. He knew and he had to watch you walking on a tightrope every single day. But now... he was better than ever. And he would do everything he could to keep you safe and away from everyone who could harm you.

Even if that meant weighing you down or locking you up. Besides, how cute would it be to see a little blue eyed or blonde haired you walking around. A little mini me to showcase just how much he adores you... He would show you just how great that future would be, even if it killed you.

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s0apysm1les · 2 years

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Omg I love your yan geralt x rock troll darling; if it still ok with you maybe some hcs on geralt finding out darling's/reader's persuit was only intended to be a friendship and friendly company while she's separated from her mate and until she can unite with him again but she still wants to be friends with him? I don't think yan!geralt would take that info very well 👀

The ultimate - surely accidental - betrayal and one that you will come to regret. He not only did not kill *you* out of his random benevolence but he even left your comrade alone as well... until he saw the two of you hold hands and seem to lean on each other in a passionate way.

The rage he felt when he heard the clacking of stones that led to him turning and seeing the sight had never left him since then. Even as you treat him the same was you did previously.

The exited nature of matching a rock to his cold exterior and gleefully bringing it to him. Was it just you treating him as a lesser in your own sickeningly cruel way? You treat him like this. You open him up to you and make him connect you to him, make him have a vulnerability. You-you break him. And you can act like nothing happens? No. That's not how this works.

You CHOSE him. You already picked your mate when you sought Geralt out each of those times. The days where you somehow made him cater to your unspoken requests, the moments where he unpromptedly defended you, fed you and saved your life on multiple occasions was you. choosing. HIM.

It didn't matter that you had bonded with this other troll creature before you had met Geralt. It didn't matter because you had made Geralt chose you and with every one of your actions you had yelled to the stars above that you had chosen Geralt too. Don't you attempt to deny it now when everyone who you two had passed had seen everything and would agree with his thinking

If they knew what was good for them.

Your false... "mate" will die. He will ensure that you know this. He will ensure that *it* too knows this. Making a demented sort of show as he flourishes in watching the false mateship end in a gory tumble.

You will learn soon enough that this was only a farce that that other rock troll surely tricked you into.

You are just too oblivious and stupidly kind of a creature to notice that the other rock troll was lying and deceiving you the entire time into a relationship that is meant for Geralt to partake in with you.

But ignorance does not beget innocence you... darling, daft creature. And Geralt will teach you just who you belong to. No matter how much you cry and mourn for that fraudulent thing you called a mate.

Part One

#Yandere Witcher #the witcher #Yandere geralt #geralt of rivia #witcher #Witcher geralt #Witcher fanfiction #Yandere oneshot #Oneshot #Yandere x reader #Yandere fanfiction #Yandere prompt #X reader #Drabble #Yandere short #s0apysm1les #S0ap's stuff #T0tally-clean #S0apnsuds

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s0apysm1les · 9 months

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Lol okay so I got this funny idea or at least... it seemed funny to me in my head... welp so anyways imagine this: Reader calls yandere Peter Parker by this full name and starts to glare at him when he doesn't do something reader asked him to like maybe not doing the chore the darling asked him to?

CW: Goofy reader who adds extra names as emphasis, couple's argument, angry cooking

Batter Chatter

Peter Parker x Reader

not really a yandere story, this one's just cute! Just gonna drop a good one instead of explaining where I've been all this time.

"Peter Benjamin Parker!"

Wasn't a good thing to hear as a teen and it still isn't a good thing to hear as a 27 year old super-hero-but-also-photographer-by-trade. He had only just removed his mask and turned to the source of the alluring voice to see the love of his life.

Definitely angry and with a sharp glare in those beautiful eyes... and it's at that angry look that he remembers why he even left in the first place! Eggs... he forgot the eggs again. He only stepped out for a minute! He could go back out-

"Don't you even think of stepping out that window again Peter Edgar Benjamin Parker!" Oh, you're really mad this time.

"I ask you to do one! Thing! What is that?!" Before he even opens his mouth to respond you continue, "Get eggs! Why? For me to make cakes for YOUR office party that YOU signed me up for!" It was technically his boss, J Jonah Jameson, who signed you up for it but Peter didn't want to bring that up and earn more ire. Why the Daily Bugle is hosting a potluck, he doesn't know but it is a test of all the worker's ability to cook and everyone is pulling all stops.

He was specifically told "Parker, since it seems the only thing you're capable of doing is bringing half-shot photos of Spiderman, I don't trust you to bring in anything edible. You better leave it to that girlfriend of yours. Mary Jane or whatever."

"Ah, it's actually-"

"Don't correct me, Parker. Didn't I just say 'or whatever'? Whoever it is, I'm sure it's better than you! Have them bring it in or else!"

And with that, you were unwillingly listed in the catering field for the next week as you figure out what to bring, what you need and how you'll do it in the small apartment kitchen. With Peter hovering over your shoulder, you settle on bite sized portions of three types of cake, lemon pound cake, chocolate cake and strawberry cakes, each with little pads of icing or glaze on top. Peter called them cupcakes, you called him uncultured in the kitchen. "Petit Fours" you called them.

And all you asked of him was to bring you a 24 pack of eggs... which he didn't...

"Peter Edgar Johnson Parker! Are you listening to me?!"

"Yes, of course! I'm sorry! I promise I'm listening."

"Then why didn't you do what I asked! You decided to just fight random thugs on the street again." Your voice went from dry anger to wet anger. You sounded like you were going to cry. "It wasn't even any of your big bad enemies. The police could have taken care of these guys! Why don't you care about me?" You finished by dropping your head and hugged yourself.

Peter drops his mask and races to your side and attempts to both hug you and lift your face to look at him.

"I'm sorry baby, I'm sorry. Look at me, please?"

"No" You cry out, head still dropped and trying to hide yourself from him. You're immediately embarrassed because you're crying over such a little thing as a carton of eggs that you yourself could've gotten in the interim - remembering you had actually done so after he left.

You already knew that he was going to stop and fight some bad guys. It's his job. And he has to do this to keep you safe. You know this, you do. But just, over and over and over again. He forgets what you ask him to remember when he's fighting and it's to the point where it feels almost purposeful and that you're not worth remembering.

You wipe your eyes and sniff. You're mad. Stay mad. You remind yourself.

"Get out." You say. Trying to make it not obvious that you're crying and failing as he looks at your red shiny eyes.

"What? No wait -"

"Peter Charles Edgar Johnson - whatever the - PARKER!" You yell out. "Get out of the living room! Get out of the kitchen! Let me cook in peace!" You push away from him and watch his strong arms drop limply to his side, bumping off of his body as they fall.

Calling the expression on his face the "kicked puppy" look would make him seem less hurt than he actually was. But you were mad and you had to make yourself be strong.

"Go to the room, Peter. Now." You point for emphasis at the doorway a mere 3 feet away. The imposing hollow core door that hung crookedly on its hinges felt more like iron bars. And after a staring contest of 10 seconds, he slowly made his way into the room.

He didn't turn on the light and instead stood in the dark and stared at you until you ahem'd him to close the door with another flick of your finger. He complied...

With a stiffening of your shoulders, another wipe of your face and a full body shake you got started with cooking. You removed the eggs that YOU bought from the fridge and pulled up the recipes for the three cakes you intended to miniaturize and got started. Halfway through the second's batter beating, you heard the loud creak of the door opening and knew the eyes watching you belonged to your sulking boyfriend.

You didn't turn around, instead just let him watch. And as you cooked and moved and decorated, he slowly emerged from the room and sat in the doorway. You assume anyway, because you refused to turn back and look at him, still wanting to make him feel how upset you were despite not being so angry any more.

With you finally finishing up on the decorating portion, you felt that Peter had moved closer now and decided to finally glance at him. You see him propped against the corner of the kitchen's island and looking at you with his own set of tired and red rimmed eyes.

You look at him, the desserts and the sink half full of dishes and breath out an exhale. You grab a pink iced mini cake and a lemon cake and walk over to him and drop down into a cross legged position in front of him. Without a word and without looking into his eyes you pass him the strawberry cake.

He's staring at your face and you can feel it while you watch him in your peripheral vision bite into the cake.

"Is it good?" You ask after a far too long moment.

"mhm" he says around the cake in his mouth.

You lean against his shoulder and look up at his face.

"... can you do the dishes?" you ask. I love you, I'm sorry.

"Mhm" he kisses your forehead and then leans his head onto yours.

"I love you" "I love you too"

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s0apysm1les · 2 years

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Hiii! For the Dead DoveTober can I request Daddy kink and Hyphephilia/Toucherism with yandere Peter Quill x human reader?

Dead DoveTober Day 3 - Daddy

CW: Yandere tendencies, Space madness, hyphephilia/toucherism, non/dub con, dubious consent, forced oral, reference to graphic horror

Narrator Voice: In a world, where Starlord hasn't become a hero yet... or ever does... IDK i just really like the idea of a bad guy Starlord for this

Hahaha... it started getting dark at the end didn't it... Although I didn't mind! This is Dead DoveTober after all!

Traveling the stars was adventure enough, you just didn't want to go too far from your home. You were happy enough on Earth and yet took the chance anyway. You never expected that you would end up on the barrel's end of an intergalactic criminal. Albeit, a not-well-known-one, but still. The person holding the gun is whoever they say they are.

And for unfortunate you, the person holding the space gun just happened to be a very attractive... very space-madness-y influenced human who was raised on a Ravager's ship and therefore knew the physical limits of pain and not the moral limits of humanity. He stole, murdered and did as he pleased to everyone and sacrificed nothing of his own.

The only thing they refused to do was child trafficking and boy, that was the moral high ground that he wouldn't overlook. He wore clothing that looks like an Earthen brown leather jacket, jeans and a grey t-shirt and you wouldn't be surprised if he had stolen or traded illegal products for them. Up until he had restrained you in a sort of cell in his ship he wore a strangely designed mask that protected his face from the vacuum of space. When he revealed his face however, there was no protecting you from his unobstructed gaze.

"Well, well, well." He started, kneeling down to match eye level with you collapsed on the ground and your hands roughly bound in a stray scrap of wire bound tightly into the dip of your wrist. "Look who had drifted to the wrong side of the belt..." He cooed coldly, but his face held an almost awed sort of fascination.

You were the first human he had seen in months. Who knows how long it had actually been. He wasn't going to chalk up the days in his ship - he didn't have chalk - and what did it matter anyway? In space, even an hour alone can be longer than a year... literally and it can just feel like one just being there alone and staring into the Abyss.

Yada yada, the abyss, too, stares into you and all that. He didn't care!

You were here! Right now! When he begged most for a human's company! Just to remind himself that he. Was. Human! You were brought here for him. And you would STAY here for him too.

Don't worry, he's learned enough now to properly take care of you. It took a few... practices with some other wayward souls to really get it right though. He knew that humans needed to eat regularly, and needed access to clean water to drink now! Except for him, strangely. He never suffered side effects from going without those basic necessities or for feeding off semi-poisonous plants on strange planets his whole life like the other humans who suffered under his hands did... Maybe he was just different because he was raised by Yondu... It didn't matter any more!

Humans need company! And he is human! Despite what the eldritch-like abominations of space say and despite what Ego had said before his erasure, he knows he is human. He remembers his mother and Missouri and... and he remembers the wind of Earth, the sun and the music and so he *knows* he's human.

He grabbed your wrist suddenly and rubbed the tender skin that peaked out from under the wire, the skin was sore and you were scared so you whimpered softly at the contact. His eyes turned to you in analysis. This skin was the same texture as his, you had hair on the same parts of the body, and though you looked different than Peter himself, he knew. He was the same species as you.

He felt the soft fragile skin of your wrist and he wanted to touch more... think of it as a sort of science - you were panicking, but also baffled as his hands roamed over your arms like he was examining a new creature. He had a disbelieving expression on his face as he thumbed his way up your arms and towards the sensitive underside of your armpit.

When he reached the point where it was ticklish, you couldn't help the flinch and the choke of a laugh that forced itself out. This seemed to break his restraint though, as he pulled you out from the cage and removed a large knife from somewhere on his person. He sliced up on the hem of your shirt and your chest suddenly welcomed the cold air of the cargo hold as goosebumps raced to cover your exposed flesh.

He latched onto the cooling strip of skin and sucked dark purple hickeys onto not just your chest and nipples, but also down your stomach and over your shoulders and up your neck. One of his hands held on to the wrapped wire around your wrists while the other pulsed and grabbed all over your torso and went up into the sleeves of your shirt to rub against your arms.

He frotted his hardening length against your leg as his hand kept up its frantic movements and he began to harshly bite at your exposed skin.

Before you thought he would come in his pants and settle down, he stopped and an eerie calm washed over him. It was as if he became a whole new person and you felt a chill go over you as he pointed his gun at you again. When did he pick that thing up?! He tells you to kneel, you drop down harshly. You want to hiss at the searing pain of your instinctive movement, but you hold it in and swallow the noise down as you look up at his shallow eyes that stare into your soul.

"Get ready, bitch. You're gonna show daddy just how much you need me." He dropped the hand with the gun to the side in emphasis but pointed it back to you again before you could feel the relief of not being near death.

He grabs your head with his empty hand and pulled you towards his crotch and brushed your cheek with his thumb as he smiled at you. The almost endearing look in his eyes unnerved you and made you realize now more than ever just what danger you were in. You look up at him and sniff, were you crying the whole time?

"O-okay." you began before feeling him yank your head up. You look into his wild eyes as he hisses through gritted teeth.

"Okay. What." His enraged look made you realize how you messed up and you quickly went to correct your mistake.

"Okay... daddy." You sobbed. With your tearful response, he muttered a "Very good." And started rubbing your head not-so-subtly against the tent in his crotch demandingly. He groaned against the motion of your cheek along the peak of the bridge and you cringed as you felt the precum of his arousal start to bleed through the fabric and smear on your cheek.

You gulped and raised your hands slowly to unzip the fabric. His length pressed so hard against the fabric that you had to pull it out yourself through the hole of the zipper. You were surprised by the length of it as it bounced against your unsuspecting lips when you withdrew your hands.

He was definitely above average compared to the regular male, but wasn't unbearably large. He was around 8 inches long and the thickness of his dick was just enough to fit inside of your hand - about an inch and a half in girth. He was definitely on the larger side of the spectrum and his dick was surprisingly... beautiful, you hated to say that about a penis but it was.

Peter grunted above you and the hand holding the gun twitched and you swallowed again before sticking your tongue out fearfully. A quick lick brought a gasp from the man, and you started to slowly take him into your mouth before he pulled you off by a tight grip on the back of your head.

"You didn't say please, brat." He panted, wanting nothing more than to spear your head onto him again even if he had to shoot a hole in your body JUST to fuck you with. He had to relieve the pressure but you HAD to follow the rules.

"Pl-please let me..." you tried to force it out quickly, but you choked on the next words you had to say. "Please let me suck you... Daddy."

Peter stared down at you coldly before smirking and shoving your face back to his weeping manhood.

"Suck away, baby. Don't forget -" He panted, "don't forget what Daddy does for your ungrateful ass to be here." You glanced up at his bliss filled face as you take the whole of his head into your mouth at once. Though you want to gag at the thought of what you're doing for the man who literally killed the entire crew of the ship you were on, you knew that if you threw up on him or if you bit him, you would be dead before you could relish in the feeling of hurting him.

You descend further onto his rod before you hear him telling you to lift your arms. You stay where you are, head half down his mast, while you do so. To your surprise he unbinds your hands. He tosses the wire to the side and shakes the gun at you.

"Daddy doesn't need that, while I have this, now do I?" He unbuttons the top of his jeans and lets them slide down his well toned thighs to settle around his knees. "Now, touch Daddy. Nice and gentle."

You gag out a "Yes, daddy" that causes him to jerk in your mouth a few times. Did he almost come from that alone? Before you start moving your hands around his exposed skin you press your hands together in a sort of mocking prayer gesture. If you were to get through this alive, you might just pray for real.

You were awkward and unsure of where exactly he wanted you to touch. You spread your fingers and pressed as you mimicked the masseuses you've seen in movies back on Earth, you assume he likes that when a breathy moan fills the space above you. You don't know why, maybe you were getting into it, but you pulled off of him to start jacking him off.

You run your tongue along the side of his dick to lick off the excess of spit and dribble that you had made before spreading the wetness of the mess in his lap across his stomach with your hands. Peter looks at you and you can see annoyance piercing through his arousal and you clear it away with a dramatized beg before you even realize what you're saying.

"Daddy, please fuck me." He grabs the sides of your face in both hands and rubs your slimy cheeks. You open your now drool-filled mouth and rest the hot opening by the head of his dick and knead your hands against the stiff muscles along his hips.

You even start to mimic what he had done to you which he praises you for by whispering "fuck" and shoving you back down to the base of his dick. You choke when the head slams into the back of your throat and you cough and gag around him as he starts carding his fingers through your hair, fingers splaying out to cover and touch as much as he could.

God damn, you felt wonderful. You felt so real and human. It didn't even matter if you were another hallucination any more, you were here now and Peter would touch every inch of you. From the gaps between your toes to the very deepest spot of your ear canal - Peter would touch everything and burn the soft feel of your skin into his memory.

And maybe even more... If Peter Quill didn't get his fill, there was the knife still there after all. There was plenty more to touch... on the inside... But you didn't have to know that yet.

#starlord is crazy #space madness #space crazy starlord #yandere #yandere x reader #s0apysm1les #s0apnsuds #t0tally-clean #s0ap's stuff #dead dovetober 22 #dead dovetober #daddy #toucherism #hyphephilia #reference to graphic horror

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s0apysm1les · 9 months

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I did a few Draw this as [character] challenges on twitter, have some Kiri tiddies

#kirishima #sexy kirishima #s0apnsuds #s0apysm1les #sexy fanart #digital art #draw this challenge

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s0apysm1les · 1 year

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Dead DoveTober Day 12 - Necrophilia

CW: necrophilia, mentions of graphic gore, guess who the dead body is... YOU!, obsessive/yandere tendencies, maggots, mention of cannibalism

You were so beautiful in life and now, in death, your beauty had become something new - otherworldly. You were the embodiment of angels. Your body, no longer the husk of your pure spirit, was still ethereal in itself and he must have it.

This was one of the bare moments in the undertaker's job that made him giddy for his free management of the bodies of the deceased. As long as the face looked fine for the funeral, nobody cared to ask what he did to the bodies.

You were a special circumstance too. Another hapless victim in the ruthless spree of violent murders, your only family facing the blade of the assailant first and then your friends so viciously following them, nobody was jealous of their deaths. You - who was left alone after the atrocities had met your end at the peaceful bottom of a glass of special juice.

The funeral director thought long and hard over the most peaceful death for the angelic you and he settled on Belladonna, Sleeping Death. Just a replacement of those for the blueberries in your smoothie, your swollen mournful eyes didn't care to cast doubt on the rounded berries. This little overlook had led you to sweetly and softly arrive to his table.

He loved to look at you in life and he loved you more in death, for the sole reason that your state now had been his wrought. You had no one to care for the loss of your life now, he made sure of that, so nobody would question his deeming cremation and proper burial method for you. Some random bitch could take your place - or ash from his furnace could fill the box for your name and you could come to his home.

You would be safe and he could finally run his fingers through your hair. He would settle you on the couch, pleasure you and bring you to the edge of elation only to stop and force himself inside of your waiting hole. He would fuck you. Even with how much he loved you, the first time would have too much excitement to go steady and make love. He would fuck into you relentlessly until he came in you and yours and his juices would spill out your hole.

He would fuck you and love you, almost to the point of trying for a child until the maggots spilled out around his dick. If one were to enter his hole while he fucked you, he would feel that it was you shoving a vicious finger into him in sexual revenge of his rough treatment. Just thinking about it now made him nearly piss himself in excitement as the bulge strained against his slacks.

All he could do for now was to run his tongue up and down every inch of your cold and hard flesh in elation. Soon, once it was dark enough, he will bring you home. And when you are too rotten to fuck, he will let you inside of him. He was sure that you would taste just as good as you did now.

#dead dovetober 22 #s0apnsuds #yandere #s0ap's stuff #t0tally-clean #s0apysm1les #dead dovetober #dead dove #murder #cannibalism #cannibal tw #mild gore #gore #necro #tw necrophillia

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s0apysm1les · 2 years

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Dead DoveTober Day 10- Somnophilia

CW: Somnophilia, Breaking and Entering, nonconsensual touching

Sleep, the safe and yet trapping moment of the day. The unavoidable 8 or so hours of darkness and wasted time for each person.

While you spent your sleeping hours, well, SLEEPING, there were still others who were awake around the world who were using your wasted time to make and manage wonders. A certain person down the street was using that time to approach your door with an absolutely sick idea in mind and chloroform in hand... just in case you woke up midway through.

He neared the broken latch window in your garage in excitement. He knew you didn't realize the latch was broken after the first time he came in and it had become a regular venture point for him to enter your home as you slept but tonight would be very different. Tonight he wouldn't touch and move your stuff and jack off into your underwear while smelling your used clothing.

He would still bring your most recent pair to use as a "snack" at his home, but tonight was special. Your anniversary of meeting him. His and your one year night would be so special~ It's not that you two were dating and he had no such imaginations or delusions of that grandeur. This was just the same day last year of when he first broke into your home.

He was going to do his regular MO of pounce and bounce while you (the victim) slept, but you - yourself - were different somehow. He wanted to play the long game on you. Wanted to watch your oblivious self as he rutted against the pillow by your head, wanted to smear his juices over your food and clothes and claim you. He even felt proud simply pissing in your toilet with the door open.

When he did those nights, he smiled at you unbroken through the open door as the loud stream smacked the toilet water in a repetitive drum like a storm. He was bold and wanted you to wake up on him, but not any more. At least, not tonight.

Tonight, he wanted you to give him a special gift to commemorate the day. He wanted a blow job. And your sleeping little mouth would give it quite willingly, he would find. He was against your bed, cock already hard in his pants and he leant over to inhale a strong whiff of your smell from the crook of your neck. You mutter softly and turn your head, exposing more of your fragile skin to his mouth.

He palms himself through the tent of his pants and takes his length in his hand. It's hot and already leaking in excitement to enter your limp hole. He brushes your lips with the head of his cock as he had done with his thumb in preparation of this night and you respond as he had trained you. You stick the tip of your tongue out and lap at the juices coating your lip and the press of weight from his excitement.

Your lips go limp just around it and he waits a moment before tugging your lips to wrap around it completely. You breath through your nose tonight and don't react to the action but he was sure that you'd react to him as he slowly pushed his length deeper into your open and welcoming mouth. Your breathing deepened and your face screwed up into confusion but you didn't react much outside of that.

He had expected you to at least bite down somewhat... but no... this was why he liked you so much. Tonight was going to be a good night.

He starts to softly thrust into your wet mouth, only going to the back of your teeth for now. He didn't want you to wake up tonight after all. He squeezed and beat the rest of his length that was left just outside of your plump lips and grunted from the effort of his restraint. He wanted nothing more than to grab you by the back of your head and smother you around his length.

The thought of that alone almost made him do just that, but he held back. He had a goal this time... He kept furiously pumping and his shallow thrusting until he came with a quiet grunt mid thrust into the back of your mouth. He pulled himself back when he felt your tongue and throat tense around his dick - using his hand to catch the last few spurts of cum from his dick head. He couldn't avoid the pride he felt when he looked at your limp sleeping body start to jerk and cough because it got up your nose. Even still, you didn't wake up and went limp again.

Leaving his dick hang free of his pants - erection long gone - he used his free hand to pry your teeth and lips open once more. You yield to him and his occupied hand makes its way to your tongue. He smears the pile of cooling semen along the top of your tongue and watch as you smack your mouth at the taste and swallow the contents. Wonderful you, helping him hide the evidence of his crimes... he will return again soon and next time, he'll wake you up partway through.

#dead dovetober 22 #s0apnsuds #s0ap's stuff #s0apysm1les #t0tally-clean #dead dovetober #somno #slight somno #somno cw

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s0apysm1les · 2 years

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Dead DoveTober Day 11- Anthropophagolagnia

CW: Noncon, cannabalism, graphic violence, gore, attempted auto-cannibalism, you die at the end.. sns

You thought that each person had a line of sensibility that separated their darker selves from their public persona like you did, but you would find in your final moments just how wrong you were in thinking that.

You had gone to a blind date and the guy had almost immediately started talking of all kinds of graphic sexual violent things that you'd find on the internet as if he was talking about local news or the weather. You were more embarrassed than terrified considering he had talked about this disturbing material while at Olive Garden and in ear shot of several families with children as young as booster-seat age.

Someone with no social limits actually existed? You hated it and vowed never to speak to him again. Luckily for you, you wouldn't. UNluckily for you, it would be because you yourself would be a victim of what he had gushed over. And he, because of his taste, was prime suspect and later claimed assailant and was never the monster behind the horror story.

You were grabbed by an obscured arm from behind a parked vehicle and before you could think to scream they had smashed your head into the thick metal of the tire rim. Your vision went black and you came to on a grungy mattress in an alley somewhere. Who-knows-how much time has passed and the firs thing you notice outside of your "Oh my gosh, where am I?" mindset was the notice that you were bare from the chest down.

It wasn't that you were naked, no, it was that your shirt was sliced down the middle and opened in a sort of mock-surgery bisection. The hands on you was a second thought, oddly normal despite the fact that you kept most everyone outside of arm's reach. You only noticed it enough to react when it screwed your leg around in a painful way as it was roaming your body.

You attempt to scream and jerk your leg but find that both limb and mouth are bound. Your leg was restrained at the knee, strapping the back of your shin to the back of your thigh. You felt your heel brushing the bottom of your ass cheek and felt anger. You wanted to snap your bonds and snap the bones in those fingers touching you.

They didn't say anything to give away who they were. The person overtop of you didn't even make a sign that they acknowledged your consciousness. They just kept jerking your bound limbs around and roughly dragging their jagged nails down your skin. The pain you felt only fueled your anger more, you were even able to throw yourself up in a sort of half-sitting position to look them in the eyes.

You felt it was the wrong move when those eyes slowly slid up your body to look at you. They finally seemed to notice you as the person containing them surged forward and grabbed both sides of your bound body. They threw you harshly to the dirty mattress as you cried out around the gag. As they were climbing on top of your side-laying body you thrashed in confusion and panic, you only noticed what they were doing when you felt their dirty palm pressing against the heat of your core.

You try to shimmy, drop, yank and twist your hips away from them but with the sinking of their claws into the sensitive skin of your stomach, they - with a sickening cough of laughter - dragged you backwards onto their burning length, painfully and dryly. They had sheathed themself into your dry asshole before you could even think and you too coughed and choked except in pain, rather than the sick pleasure they were experiencing.

Rather than let you adjust around the tearing length, he immediately withdrew a majority of himself from your asshole before yanking you back by his claws again onto him. You bit harshly on the gag as you attempted to scream. You felt a hot liquid start to drip down your legs and settled on it being you had pissed yourself from pain rather than the more believable blood from his invasion.

You couldn't convince yourself of this for long because whoever this guy is had smeared his hand across the smear and showed the bloody palm to your face as he began to laugh wildly. His thrusts picked up and became shallower as he sped to a lackluster ejaculation. You were hoping this was it and that he would leave you there in an embarrassing and sick pile of blood and meat on the mattress but you were proven wrong as you heard him shuffling around next to you. Your muscles were sore from being bound and straining against your bondage and you just want it to end and then you felt pain. Blooming from the back of your thigh and quickly becoming a heat, a strip of fire and agony raced down the strip of flesh.

You were trying to grasp the source of your pain, being unable to move your head to look and unable to move made it difficult, but your assailant made it easy to understand as he filled the space with groans of hunger and chewing noises. Chewing... noises? Why would you be hearing him groaning like a wild animal and chewing noises?

He comes around your side after a while and you see it, blood smeared around his mouth and a grim pleasant smile on his face. The knife in his hand is surprisingly new and sharp and clean to be in this area - despite the blood. He held the blade towards you in a way that made it difficult to see from your slumped point of view.

You didn't have to see it to know where it would end up though because you immediately felt it against the side of your upper arm. The same strip of pain followed you up and he shoved your severed flesh against your gag. He wanted you to eat yourself? How did he expect you to do so when you were gagged in the first place? You vomited once the smell of your own severed flesh and blood got into your head. You start coughing and choking around your vomit as you start struggling against your bonds again. He finally shows a human emotion with his annoyance at your struggle. He sheathes the blade in your shoulder with a quick dive of metal into flesh and you feel yourself attempt to scream. You barely make a sound against the cloth and vomit smothering you and you feel your vision cloud in black. You can't help the hope that you don't wake up, if this is what you have to wake up to again. Your leg feels so cold that you probably wouldn't even be able to run - had you gotten away in the first place.

You cough on your vomit once more, accidentally forcing more back into your lungs and you feel mercy as you fall asleep against the burning and pain in and outside of your body. You couldn't quite remember why you were upset and why you couldn't move any more. Even opening your heavy eyes was a chore now. You could feel cutting on your body and the surface of your skin being opened and revealed to the cold air, but you couldn't find it enough in you to care any more. You were so... so tired. Maybe you can breathe in your dreams?

"Thank you for the meal." Were the first words he had spoken to you and they were the last words spoken aloud around your body while your blood was still warm, unfortunately you were already far too gone to hear them... What a shame too, you were quite delicious.

#dead dovetober 22 #dead dovetober #s0apysm1les #s0apnsuds #s0ap's stuff #t0tally-clean #slightly graphic #cannibal tw #cannibalism #tw noncon #eventual death #you died #sorry

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s0apysm1les · 2 years

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Dead DoveTober Day 1 - Feral

CW: Feral!Reader, kidnapping, caging, reference to forced!impregnation You'd think the first character to think of when picturing "Feral" would be Tarzan or Inosuke but who really comes to my mind is actually a feral reader who was tracked and trapped! Would this still be considered kidnapping?

Wild Caught Pet

You awaken with a thick haze slowing your reactions. You find it hard to move your muscles and cannot feel yourself trying to push yourself up into a sitting position - only to drop yourself back onto the metal floor of the space that contained you... that is, until you could.

Your vision cleared and your senses returned in quick succession and you threw yourself into the corner furthest from the strange door that shone the light in to your enclosing space.

You were so cramped and your shoulders hurt as if you had fallen from a great height. You could not think about how you got here, it made your head feel like your arms. Then a voice filled the space you were in. The strange material caused the voice to echo and you thought there were multiple enemies before realizing that there was only one.

You waited until the foe got into sight before lashing out through the bars. A loud yelp from the figure startles you back as your sharpened nails met skin and tore it open into four ragged strips.

You watch in suspicion as the figure rises and clutches their face - you now could see that they... were the same thing you were.

Unlike the wild predators and prey you had known your entire life, they had two feet, lacked a warm coat of grown fur for camouflage and had the same apposable thumb that you did.

A panic filled you at the sight of a new strange creature, one you had only seen when looking at yourself in still bodies of water or occasionally on shiny stones. The very obvious predator watched you from the free side of the bars and you shifted on your hands anxiously. Your eyes caught the growing clump of red dots on the metal floor near the hand that struck out and when glancing down to it the figure had moved as well.

You jumped again while they slowly lowered their hand from their face. The slashes had somewhat scratched their eye and it had already turned a bright shining red while the gashes freely bled down their face. What reminded you of your weakest days wasn't the sight of blood and torn skin nor the panic of being in such a confined and uncontrolled space. It was the loud sudden noises that sounded like the sudden calls of a large bird, or the slam of toppling trees. It filled you with fear...

You would not understand at that moment, but they - your captor - would eventually flaunt to you the story of your capture. You were a 'symbol of freedom' a 'piece of the untapped nature that they must tamp out'. But things had changed when you had attacked them and they made you theirs.

They forced you to submission, and taught you to be serval. They bred you like a rabbit and taught you the shame of being treated like that. Worst of all, they had made you watch as they used their strange loud moving shapes and stone-like cold monsters to destroy your home. All the while, they held your head and forced you to watch as they told you that with your home fallen, you belonged to them.

They had caught the wild to be a pet, while forgetting that you are a beast and in the end, you would rip out their throat with your teeth like the last person who had done this to you.

#dead dovetober #s0apysm1les #s0apnsuds #t0tally-clean #s0ap's stuff #i'm kind of dissatisfied with this ngl #but i did my best #feral!reader #trapped #blood #wild #feral #idk

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s0apysm1les · 1 year

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Dead DoveTober Day 13 Vore

CW: Vore, nonhuman eating human, moderately graphic gore/ description of violence

You found a cave, it always starts with finding a cave, doesn't it? You found a cave and you entered it and you found a strange creature. It visually matched a boulder and had some sort of vines across it. Whatever flowers they were supposed to be you wouldn't have known, you don't know plants.

All you knew is that plants aren't supposed to craw across the gravel and dust and climb up your limbs. They definitely weren't supposed to crawl up your clothes and drag you, bound and gagged towards the now gaping maw in what you thought was stone. As you were dragged in past the rocky ridge that can be considered lips and teeth, a wave of smog hit you in the face like a brick. Immediately you felt your vision twist and your limbs slacken as the tentacles dragged you further into the gullet of the beast.

You wanted to go further now, you felt giddy as the acid quickly broke down your shirt and topmost layer of exposed skin. You were digested so quickly you didn't get a chance to feel enough pain to struggle against the retracting tentacles of vines. What once was there against your wrists, tightening bruising rope marks against your skin had fled the acidic air of the mouth.

An unaffected scientific mind might muse on whether or not the vines were a part of the larger creature or if it was in a symbiotic/parasitic relationship with it or not. But you weren't a scientific mind in the best of times and especially not now - when you were so drugged out by the lack of oxygen and influx of pheromones and stomach acids that you limply sagged against the skin-dissolving walls of your captor in glee.

#dead dovetober 22 #dead dovetober #s0apysm1les #s0apnsuds #s0ap's stuff #t0tally-clean #fatal #mild gore #gore #digestion #vore cw #minors dni #graphic #monster #human consumption

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s0apysm1les · 2 years

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Dead DoveTober Day 7 - Amputation

cw: amputation

this is a rewrite because the first one didn't save

Graphic horror traps were a big no-no to you at most times and unspeakable at others save for one type, Saw.

The movies were like a dream to you and you knew everything about them, even down to who on the staff had a divorce with their wife over infidelity and what trap you think they'd go in to.

You even won in a bidding war for one of the main crew's copy of the original script of the first Saw movie. The individual actor it belonged to didn't matter as much as you having it at all.

But... being in a trap... was a different story.

Your dominant hand was strapped between a sort of spring locked wire clasp - similar to the garrot wire leg trap from the movie Jigsaw from 2017. You prided yourself on how the movie traps were put together, but this one wasn't even one you could see the mechanisms of. And even darker, you felt like it wasn't made with the chance for you to get out of...

You could only watch and struggle in the brace holding you down as the timer was nearing zero. You always thought that timers counted down faster than a clock ticked but this timer was faster than any others you have seen. After nonstop thrashing you were able to release your nondominant hand and reached for the frame holding down your dominant hand but the timer had reached zero.

You jerked your free hand back as you heard the clicking of a winding mechanism... and with a clean sharp slice and the feeling of a pinch, followed by fire filled your wrist.

The wires had descended to behind the wood and the brace holding you down had been released. You drop down limply onto the bowed wooden flooring, on hand and knees and with your severed hand also following the same motion of support. When a rock pressed against the screaming raw wound, you felt reality, too, hit you. You shocked awake and flipped to sit on your ankles as you terrifyingly looked around.

Similar to the M.O. of your favourite movie franchise, a small tube television screen turned on and revealed a once-considered-cute puppet doll of a character was on screen. This one being a smooth green haired puppet of a clown with massive gashes of makeup sliced bright pink streaks up its face.

"You considered movies about atrocities something glorifying and now you get to live in them. Smile, be happy, that you get to experience such a fate that you admire." It told you before the screen shut off and a door at the far end of the room opened... should you take your hand?

#maybe I'll continue this #idk though #dead dovetober 22 #dead dovetober #s0ap's stuff #s0apnsuds #s0apysm1les #t0tally-clean #amputation #amputated hand #jigsaw #saw #slightly graphic

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s0apysm1les · 2 years

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Dead DoveTober Day 5 - Permanent Body Modification

CW: NONCON Body modification, Tattoos, branding/marking

I'm only doing this for the Dead Dove. The other shi i write is obviously not okay stuff but I just wanna say here bc it's a bit more vague and can seem "not as bad". I do NOT and WILL NOT condone changing people's tattoos or putting your name or symbol in there without their knowledge or consent. That aint it and I stand by that thought.

All it was was a simple smiley face, at first. You felt a thrill at the stack of needles pattering on your skin, driving ink into the spots between the cracks of your skin. It was like you were drunk, and the drink was a sweet Amontillado that drove you deeper and deeper into the dark cellar and catacombs of the shops.

You became personally close to the tattoo artist who had done your first tattoo, he was a bit peculiar but was more endearing than alarming and you quickly saw him as more than a friend. He started encouraging larger tattoos, covering more patches of your skin and was even designing a majority of them now.

The ink stretched across the canvas of skin and laced across the once-bare spots of skin. Once the entirety of your back was tatted and a collar with chain ribbons was inked across your neck, you finally noticed his name on your skin when asked about the tattoos at the beach.

You had loved showing them off, the thrill of turning people's eyes - not only because of your scandalous suit, barely covering anything, but also the flaunting of the bright images and dark contrasts that littered you from your toes to your throat. It was a friend who first asked you about who your tattoo artist was - not as a tattoo artist though, they had asked you who his Name was. You never even mentioned to them that your tattoo artist was a guy, let alone his name.

And so you ask how they knew that name.

"Well. It's spelled out on your back." Your blood ran cold. You rushed them to take a photograph of the tattoos and when seeing it, they were right. There was his name. clear as day amongst the ink and flesh. On the back of the decorative collar was even the word "property" swirled and slightly obscured by the lace that decorated the false clasp of the tattoo.

He had... branded you. He had marked you as his property and smiled at you and looked you in the eyes with you none the wiser. You quickly gathered your things at that moment and rushed out of the sand and sun you were just playing under. There was a particular artist you had to visit, after all, and your body hummed with excitement. You didn't want to keep your owner waiting.

#yandere x reader #s0apysm1les #s0apnsuds #t0tally-clean #s0ap's stuff #dead dovetober 22 #dead dovetober #branding #marking #ownership

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s0apysm1les · 2 years

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Do you take writing commissions? What are prices? Was interested in a fic with Prince Demande and Sailor Moon

Yes, I do! My commissions are $10 each 1k words but for raunchy stuff its $20 every 1k. And for the Prince of my heart? Heck 💕😤 Imma rewrite that entire first scene to the way I've always dreamed it would go out 🥺😩

#Prince demande #Sailor moon #Im a simp #HighdemandforPrinceDemande #s0apysm1les #s0apnsuds #S0ap's stuff #T0tally-clean

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s0apysm1les · 2 years

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Heyoo! Idk if you write for yandere Clark Kent? If yes i'd like to request some smut with him x chubby reader. He loves to praise her and she loves the way his hands feel against her skin

Yandere Superman/Clark Kent x Chubby!Reader

Super in the Sheets

Content: Gender neutral reader, Yandere tendencies, reference to kidnapping, stalking, peeping

Smut including; edging, denied orgasm, teasing, oral (male receiving, reader giving), overstimulation

He just loved the feel of your soft skin as he cupped it tenderly in his hands. It was already hard enough to hold himself back because he was far stronger than a human like you but there was something about you that drove him to the brink every time he could even hear your heart beat.

You were so nice and helpful that his Ma and Pa couldn't think of anything bad about you if they were to even look for it and Clark? All that he could think of was how alluring you were. You were so beautiful... and how your supple flesh gave way under each squeeze and soft twist drove him mad.

Clark Kent had met many people in the world - from models to villains - and each one more attractive than the last. But you held something greater than what the most beautiful model had, you were his. Even before he had revealed his identity to you, you still cared about him more than as a compatriot or friend. There were many days that he blushed heavily in his seat at the daily bugle from his inability to block out your gushing thoughts of his many merits you saw.

~Smut below the cut~

He was a blushing stuttering mess as he approached you for a date - not that you were much better - and from the very beginning his relationship with you was much more touching and fiery than what was between him and Lois Lane. This all culminated on the eve of yours and his fourth date and he laid you down on the plush bed in your apartment in the complex just across the street from his own.

He would never admit to you the shameful evenings where he painfully yearned to see you past the curtain that shrouded you from his building. Those days, he would keep to his grave... those and his memories of what he did as he listened to the shallow breaths of you sleeping and watching your slumbering form with his super-powered eyes. He tried to hold himself back from using his xray vision as you slept and changed clothes but sometimes... he couldn't help the way his eyes hungrily ran up and down your beautiful full body.

His hand twitched at the memories of those moments and so did a much larger part of his body at the same time. You felt the firm length press deeply into your side as your kissing became deeper and you had to break apart what had become a heavy make-out to look to it. Eyes already hazy by excitement, you blearily looked at the pressing fabric of Clark's tented pants with drool still connecting you and him.

You barely remember nodding in acknowledgement to his question if he can go further as you reached between the two of you and gripped the clothed monster. He tried to hold back the groan that your grip had caused but failed and you were drowned in the arousal that was clear in the deep rumble.

Still unknowing of the truth behind your thought, you thought that the still unseen package couldn't have been human. Clark choked on the spit in his mouth, both at the grip of your hot hand around his shaft and to the reality of your thoughts on him.

This brought the country boy to a new stage of nervousness when you asked him to take off his clothes... he did as you asked but what if you were freaked out and you ran away from him? This almost made him stop mid-strip entirely - if it wasn't for your hands that hurriedly pulled his shirt over his head.

Thoughts of how you wanted him and all that you would do to Clark had him reassured and he rose to his feet beside the bed to slowly unbuckle his belt. You walked on your hands and knees towards him on the mattress as he pulled off the belt, twirling it in the air before letting it drop to the ground beside him.

God you looked so good... if only you could read his thoughts, you would see how ravishing you looked to him. He wanted to leave bruising kisses all over your soft chest. He wanted to breathe in your smell as you're dripping in sweat while he thrusts into you. He wants to feel every curve and dip of your body under his fingers as he finds every pleasurable spot on your body. He wants to lick every inch of your body until your entire form becomes an erogenous spot.

He wants to bring you over the edge tens, hundreds of times until you're crying and begging him to stop. He wants you to be unable to move, unable to resist as he moves you somewhere safe. And unfortunate, unlucky you is about to find that out in the very long... very thorough and very very pleasurable way. But for now, you are oblivious of his desires, only aware of your own. You dip your head and take Clark's large head into your mouth - still full of both yours and his spit - and you moan around the intimidatingly large head. It's so heavy and you didn't hesitate... This is more than Clark expected you to do.

You're so vigorous and Clark's legs almost shake from the excitement and pleasure. Because of his size, you're unable to go more than halfway down his shaft and before Clark can even voice the thoughts that are slowly forming in his mind, you suddenly pull back off of his dick. He chokes once more, only now realizing that he was drooling like a dog.

"Please," you pant, "please Clark~" You stick your tongue out, revealing that you too are dribbling in saliva. You are about to sink back down on his throbbing length when he grabs the base of his dick tightly with a strained grunt. It twitches a few times, just inches from your face as you watch it bob repeatedly. A smirk curls on your face, making the soft edges sinister in an impish delight.

You get a cruel idea that has blood rushing to your weeping core. You take a breath and use both of your hands to squeeze both of your thighs as you press them together. Not only was this teasing for him, but damn could you use the friction.

"Clark~" you keen - a whine more than anything - as you lean your cheek against his rock hard thigh, the tip of your nose brushing the knuckles that held like bolts around his monstrous cock. It twitches impressively and you feel yourself clench around nothing. Oh gosh, would all of your stretching even be enough for this girth?

"Please" The desperate strain to the voice makes it clear that the plea belonged to Clark. You lean back, watching him from hooded eyes. "You're... you're so beautiful~ Please let me touch you." You watch him grit his teeth as he tightens beneath your grip.

It was like he had steel beams under his skin, that muscle was so fricken tight that you were almost sure that you could ride on that alone. But after looking at him and thinking... you felt otherwise. This hulking tower of a man was looking at you with weak eyes, desperate and seemingly near tears. It made you want to tease him~

"Hmm, I dunno Clark~ is there any reason why I should let you?" You still laid yourself out onto the bed, spread out below him with your arms around your head with a teasing sense of daintiness. You usually felt very insecure of being like this - not only just having your arms lifted, but having yourself completely on display before someone.

And yet, with Clark you felt okay... the way he looked at you made you forget how much you disliked seeing your own bare body - feeling it was too large, too soft, in some spots - you felt beautiful... just like he said.

"Please, please..." he moaned, leaning over with one hand on the bed beside you. He wasn't completely over top of you, just at eye level with your navel, but you felt his heady eyes roam every inch over you. "You don't understand how much I want you."

"You're so sexy" "You're so beautiful." "You're always on my mind" "You're so amazing"

Clark started peppering you with little sweet compliments and kisses, starting from where your thigh hugs your core to beside your belly button, the bottom of your right breast, the groove of your collarbone to the bottom of your chin. Every press of his lips left your skin burning and left more sweet words to fill your ears. He went from your chin to the base of your palm peppering down each arm with more kisses and more compliments, of how you are at work, how wonderful and kind you are, how beautiful you look and when.

You couldn't help the giggle when his silky lips got to your elbow, but it only furthered his adoring words of you by calling it a golden laugh. He went on about your voice, your eyes, every thing that you feel ashamed of, he seemed to know and he doused each of your hated parts in loving glances and gently cupped palms as his thumb rubbed into them hypnotically.

You didn't know when the atmosphere turned from lust and steam to the sweet flourish that it did, but you didn't complain as his large hands went from tender brushes and fleeting touches to never leaving your skin, if they were to move it would be to slide across your body - as if he was afraid to never touch you again, should he lose grip of you.

And once you had been so thoroughly ravished that you were more drained than any of your last trysts, he finally asked if he could enter you. You let out a pleased squeak as he slowly entered your completely used hole. But little did you know that he had only just begun. He would get everything out of you; every cry, moan, orgasm and every drop of cum and tears that he can until you can't move - let alone think about trying to move. And when you finally passed out, the nonstop pleasure leaving you crying weakly into your sleep, he would only stop then... and work on moving you into his home...

After some time, he was sure, you would enjoy the family he and you would enjoy making. It always just takes time...

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