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.