#//In The Clearing Stands A Boxer

[ronmanmob]

The bar gremlin is back. All big eyes and sly grins when things slow down enough to permit the barman a moment to chat away. She comes in enough to be considered a regular ~a vodka tonic or the occasional sea breeze~ and their circles overlap often with the people they share in common. She's mostly harmless, isn't she? Except the way she leans across the bar, something cherry-syrup sweet in her voice as she stage whispers in his direction. "So...how's ya firs' kiss wi' Baz, den?"

First Kiss Meme

"Oh my darlin'-" Ron enthused, well-used to the visits of this specific bar gremlin; sweet and harmless despite how her questions sometimes veered into territory most private. Despite how this one most definitely had though, he turned from his work shining newly cleaned glasses and poured every ounce of charm and welcome into how he approached her - all open body language, smiling eyes and lips and the flash of teeth as he came near; leant his weight into the bar; made to confide--

"It was gorgeous--"

It was in the locker room of Baz's gym. They'd fallen into a routine after work, after training; Ron tending to Baz's wrists, hands and forearms; each joint salved with Tiger Balm; each tendon and muscle warmed, carefully stretched and massaged; wounds cleaned and dressed.

"--Soft-"

Not a word was spoke between them; between Ron and his aspiring champion. They didn't speak much by nature anyway - not either man. And they found in each other a kind of understanding that meant they didn't need to, to be understood. A look did it. A change in pressure where they touched - Ron sat as he was on a low stool between Baz's knees so he could best reach where he needed to reach.

"--Came natural-"

And it had. Come natural. It'd almost come natural more than once the last few days. Tiny moments spent gathering courage. Little testing leans in, little tilts of the head toward each other, little...chanced braveries that'd either been bottled or interrupted, but not this one. Not this time.

"--Took me breaf away-"

Not a superlative. After dancing round each other for as long as they had, feeling their way closer inch by inch, time by time-- When they found themselves alone at last, leant close as the work Ron was doing required, all it'd taken was a tilt of the head. Each of them had at once, though the synchronicity was accidental. Perhaps a thought had come on that needed words to express right. Perhaps they'd wanted a better look at each other. Perhaps, perhaps...It didn't matter. That first tilt, they both pulled up short; noses brushing, a hushed-

-Sorry-

-escaping one of them, though which...It didn't matter. The other shook his head, then tilted it purposefully to turn that just-gone brush into a nuzzle. They both smiled in millimetres, listed closer as if drawn by gravity. Between them, another word-

-Please-

-and that tore it. Their lips met, and all Ron knew then beyond Bastian's taste was the ecstatic weight of want-come-relief-come-affection that settled right the way through him. It--

"--It was..."

Ron caught the words he might've said, closing his eyes a moment and shaking his head. When he focused on his bar gremlin again, his expression was soft with the affection he felt for the man he'd been talking about.

"--'Ee's...a fuckin' joy, luv. 'Onestly."

[idiotlovesongs]

people are getting angrier over a cis woman with high testosterone competing in the olympics than they are over a convicted child rapist competing.

[ceciliaaa-youre-breakin-my-heart]

Hellooo I would like to share with you a beatiful birthday-gift-comic made by my insanely talented friend @zu-zup

I can't even put to words how much I love your interpretation of this scene. The facial expressions are spot-on, the backgrounds are so real, the differences in mannerisms between them... Thank you so much for capturing the heart i tried to put forward in my work. I should seriously get back to writing (he said, for the 10th time this year)

[nice-bright-colors]

This process, as I’ve shown in the previous pages, is supposed to help me with my anxiety. The idea is I let it go, after I write it down. The reality is, I can never really let it go, I’m defective in that regard. Maybe someday I’ll figure out the formula and succeed in this endeavor. Until then, I will struggle against the current at every turn.

[rotzaprachim]

What no one talks about is the 1970 hit “the boxer” by Simon and Garfunkel was written for cassian jeron andor in andor (2022)

[thedevotionaltour]

i dont even care when i think about matt to the boxer < shaking white knuckle grip on the bathroom sink as i look at myself in the mirror with tears in my eyes

[jonathanarcher]

What many don’t understand about chakotay is that. Well. He is just a poor boy but his story’s seldom told, he has squandered his resistance for a pocket full of mumbles such are promises. All lies and jest! Still a man hears what he wants to hear and disregards the rest.

[magicalgirlmascot]

I can't believe that Paul Simon and Art Garfunkel created the perfect song in 1970 when they recorded The Boxer and we just have to live in a world where music has peaked

[spacetrashpile]

god i love when ttrpg campaigns haunt a song every time you ever hear it

[lxnarphase]

𓇼 FUCK HER, FLIP HER, BEND HER BACKWARDS !

❤︎₊‧⁺...synopsis : the church always says sex for pleasure is a sin, and nanami kento is a man of the lord. but fuck, if his wife isn't worth sinning for. wc: 4.3k

❤₊‧⁺...cw : n. kento x fem!reader, religious themes, traditionalist views on sex and marriage, loss of virginity, missionary to mating press, breeding kink, overstimulation, unprotected sex, nanami loses himself in your pussy, slight cum play, dirty talk

❤₊‧⁺...lunar's note : am i unintentionally coping with religious trauma? possibly but it is fun :33 anyways based of this! forgive me if my writing is a bit rusty, it's been a while but enjoy !!

the two of you have spoken about eventually having children many times, but knowing the steps it took...it kept you both pushing it back, knowing eventually you'd both be ready.

after speaking with doctors, asking for advice from the church, and having you grumble about the neighbors who welcomed a cute baby girl, the two of you figured it was time.

you did your best to act normal all dayl, trying not to seem to nervous or too excited as you went about your chores for the day.

it may just be an act to procreate, but...it's still your first time with nanami. you want it to at least feel special.

there was nothing in the bible that went against that, right?

well, you have plenty of time to overthink since it seems that your dear husband will be at work late. to pass the time, you wait upstairs in your shared bedroom, the TV on as a distraction.

you're so stuck in your own world that you don't even notice him in the doorway before he clears his throat, leaning in the doorway. "oh! hi, honey, welcome home!" you go to stand up, but he holds up a hand, making you stop before you can get up from the bed.

it's silent, aside from the noise from the TV, and you can feel your stomach flip in anticipation.

has...has he always looked that handsome?

he continues to stand by the door, still not making eye contact. "you said it...starts today, correct," nanami questions, focused on undoing the straps of his watch. it shouldn't be attractive, it's such a simple task...yet it has your stomach doing flips as you nod.

"mhm, my, uh...ovulation starts today." it's such a weird thing to say, it just makes everything feel so...clinical. but that's how it's supposed to be, right? those who use sex for pleasure instead of procreation are sinners, or whatever the reverend at the church says.

"mm."

slowly pulling it off, he sets the watch on the dresser before shutting the bedroom door

"good."

dear god in heaven, you think to yourself, struggling to swallow the saliva pooling inside your mouth as he starts to undress. please forgive me for such inappropriate thoughts about my husband.

he removes his suit jacket—black today, it seems—placing it carefully on his desk chair, followed by his cufflinks and tie. his shirt is next, each button popping to reveal his strong, well-maintained physique.

you have to stop yourself from pumping your fist in the air for getting so lucky with such an attractive man as your husband. too busy ogling him like a horny teenager, you miss him undoing his belt before tugging them down and stepping out of his boxers.

once you do realize he's fully undress, you blush hard once he approaches the end of the bed—it took everything out of you not to stare at that...monster hanging between his legs, dear lord—and climbs onto it, making his way to hover over you.

his eyes roam up and down your body, taking in the pretty silky night dress you had on. It’s a soft blue with lacy white trim with little intricate flower designs.

modest, yet sensual.

"this is new," he comments, voice low and sultry. you can't help but wonder if he meant to sound so...so...

you don't find the correct word for it, but this new tone lights a fire in your stomach that has your r thighs squeezing together just a little bit.

"well, i figured it was an important night...you know, finally popping our cherries a-and starting a family?"

it's a weak attempt at humor, your voice clearly giving away your nervousness. you just pray that he ignores it.

a soft hum leaves him, his fingers playing with the intricately designed lace trim. the idea that you want to make this whole ordeal special, that you want to give yourself to him wholly, and that you want to swell with his child...

it pleases him greatly, a small smile touching his lips.

"well, aren't you sweet, my dearest?"

such simple words, yet they relieve so much tension from your shoulders. you can't help but smile back before a little gasp falls from your lips when his hands start to lift the dress up. his hands, they're so big, so hot on your skin.

It's a struggle to remember that this is for the purpose of producing offspring and nothing else, but you try, you try so hard.

but when you hear the hitch in his breath at the realization you didn't have anything else underneath the dress after he pulls it over your head, it's hard to remember.

the thought just about completely leaves your mind at the way nanami, your usually put-together husband, looks so hungrily down at you, a look you've never seen before in those pretty hazel eyes.

his gaze lingers on your body for a moment, mouth opening before shutting instantly, preventing himself from saying something he'd likely regret.

calm down, kento, he reminds himself, taking a second to clear his mind. this is for the purpose of family, not sinful and carnal desires.

even so, he's drinking in the sight of you, unable to stop his hands from rubbing up and down your sides, the soft skin of you, his wife, warming his palms. all his.

"gorgeous," he mumbles, unaware he even said it.

the moment you feel his leaking cock brush against your leg, a thought occurs to you.

neither one of you has a single idea of how to do this.

sure, you both know enough about putting it inside and moving, but that was about it. is there something else you should do? things you should say, places you should touch to aid in the process?

they never explained the actual process of sex in church, and lord knows your mother and father would've keeled over and died instantly if you were to ask them.

'it comes naturally when god deems it your time' the reverend stated once during a sermon. you fight back a frown, realizing that man probably had even less of an idea of how to do it.

however, the feeling of his tip nudging against your slit rips a gasp out of you, bringing you back into the present.

"are you alright? you left me for a bit there," nanami asks, his brow furrowed in worry. if you weren't ready, he was willing to back off. he may want to fulfill this important aspect of marriage, but...not if you don't want it.

"n-no, i'm okay! just...wondering how all of this is going to work out," you softly reassure, giving a weak giggle.

he can't blame you, he isn't very sure either. but as the man of the house and as your husband, he didn't plan on letting you worry. he would do all the work, you just needed to lay there looking so pretty, so soft, so...he realizes he's doing it again, letting his mind wander to places it shouldn't.

"just...j-just relax, we will figure it out as we go along."

with your silent nod, nanami starts to push his hips forward, hissing silently when he realizes the wetness that greets him.

you were this aroused just from...talking?

the thought of scolding you for letting your mind wander crossed his own, but...it would be hypocritical when his cockhead is dribbling precum all over your soft mound.

you choke out a noise of pain when his cock finally notches onto you and starts to push inside. sure, your wetness helped get the tip and the few inches after it inside, but just that is already too much for you, and you're expected to take all of it?!

you do your best not to move, not really sure what you should be doing. you'd be a good wife and bear with the pain if you had to, your nails digging into the pillow under your head as you braced yourself for the rest of his cock.

but this is absolutely unbearable, how do other women bear with this and have 6 or more children?!

a flicker of concern flashes through nanami's eyes at the sound you made, and he stops moving forward. he may be a bit mean sometimes, but he wasn't cruel.

if you both are going to go through with this, he is not going to make you suffer and nor is he going to force you to endure a painful experience.

no true man of god would do such a thing.

"breathe, don't hold it in," he instructs, his voice somehow calm and collected. one of his hands laces with yours, hoping to provide some sort of comfort as his lips brush against your forehead. "i've got you, darling, the pain will pass, just...tell me to stop if it gets too bad. don't hold it in."

giving a soft nod, you try to match his breathing, your body relaxing and making it easier for nanami to slip the rest of himself inside, a near silent sigh escaping him. the tightness and initial resistance that greeted him nearly made him moan, his cock twitching violently inside of you.

something about the physical feeling and knowledge that you saved yourself for him like you promised years before you both got married sent a surge of possession and pride, knowing he has such a loving and faithful wife who is so willing to give herself up to him like this...he can only hope you feel the same knowing he saved himself for you and only you.

so, as a 'reward'—and totally not because he fears you'll strangle his cock off with how tight you are—he's so gracious to you, not moving to let you get used to the stretch and feel of him inside, the room silent except for your matching breathing.

a few moments go by, and you should feel embarrassed when you feel slick drip out of you and down your ass. the realization that your dearest husband, one of the most faithful men of the church, is letting his cock soak inside of your hot cunt makes you whine a little, slick walls fluttering around him.

he's so fucked.

"a-ah...i'm going to move now," he warns, taking your sudden noise as a good sign. nanami shifts his legs just a bit before giving an experimental thrust, his brow furrowing as he slowly finds a rhythm.

the feeling of your hot and gummy walls is absolutely intoxicating, divine, nothing he's ever felt before.

this is what it felt like?

this is what he waited for?

fuck, it felt...it felt so good.

too good.

for you, the pain completely melts away, and you silently thank god and the angels above for giving you a merciful husband who is so kind as to wait for you to loosen up around him.

little do you know, he would rather kill himself than start moving when you're still adjusting to the pain and stretch.

his gentle movements make you all but melt under him, your eyes fluttering at the unbelievable pleasure coursing through your veins.

no wonder your parents preached about saving yourself until marriage, and thank the heavens you listened.

the very thought of feeling this way with anyone but your kento puts a bad taste in your mouth.

meanwhile, nanami chants prayers in his head over and over again as he tries his best to focus on the 'true' purpose for this.

the sticky, wet, and gooey sensation of your plump cunt sucking him, practically weeping each time he pulls out is just unfair.

the poor man, he's fighting so hard to maintain his composure, to not succumb to the base instincts that those soft moans of yours are beginning to stir within him.

"s-shush, darling," he grits out, hips still following his slow, deep pace. "don't...don't make such noises," he all but pleads, voice tinged with a huskiness that betrayed his growing need for you.

“i-i’m sorry! just, it...feels good, y-you feel good, feels s-so good,” you whisper, hands coming up to cover your mouth and stifle those sickeningly sweet noises.

but of course, that isn’t enough because each push and pull of his cock stirs your drooling cunt, filling the room with wet, filthy squelching sounds.

nothing about this is holy, nanami thinks as he grits his teeth, hands fisting in the sheets next to your head.

look at her.

those soft, muffled noises are truly music to his ears, his pace morphing from the slow, deep grind into a faster pace as your soft body gives into the pleasure.

so wet, so damn tight around my cock., like she never wants to let me pull out.

"k-kento, y-you're goin' too deep, i-i can't be quiet, s'too much!"

messy little pussy, 's beggin' for cum, needs it, needs to feel my tip kissin' her cervix as i pump load after load into her womb.

he knows what that little voice is, and no matter how much he wants to claim that it’s the sound of demons pouring their sinful words into his mind, he knows that it's his thoughts, fueled by those dirty little noises that she can't hold back.

how pitiful, how sinful, doesn't she know she's going against all the teachings they've heard preached every weekend in their church?

doesn't she know she's giving into lust?

doesn't she know her pretty sounds are making his dick throb, painting her insides with his hot, gooey precum?

"hush, 'm not going to t-tell you again, you...you need to be quiet," he growls, the command lacking its earlier authority.

nanami also knows lying is a sin, and he's doing a damned lot of it right now as he tries to convince himself that you need to stay silent. after all, this—this is just a process of giving you both a child, just like you wanted, and nothing else.

but he's lying to himself.

he needs you to be quiet or else he'll lose it.

the poor man is barely holding onto his restraint, and these sweet noises pouring from your mouth aren't helping at all.

"y-you make this so difficult sometimes, my dear..." his voice is rough with need and desire, a stark contrast to his usual composed demeanor. "but, by god, you're...you're. absolutely. exquisite."

he punctuates his words with a particularly hard thrust, grinding his hips into you in a way that has the coarse hair on his crotch to rub against your clit. the pleasure it gives you is electric, your legs coming up to squeeze his hips as you try to grind with him.

his words, his simple praise only makes you hiccup his name, crying out louder as your watery eyes roll back as your needy cunt squeezed down on his fat cock.

you're such a sweet thing, trying oh-so hard to mute your sounds. each snap of his hips is all but driving you insane.

“i-i can’t, ken, y-you don’t understand, i-it feels so good, i-i’m so full! you’re pressing against all the good spots, kentoo, i-i love you s' much, b-but i can't!”

be a good fucking husband and do what you were made to, nanami kento.

his teeth dig into his bottom lip, trying to hard to ignore that temptation purring in the back of his mind.

the voice is so much louder now, echoing throughout his mind and muting any prayers or pleads to be mindful of the sanctity of this whole process.

fuck her. give her what she needs, what she deserves.

but it's too fucking hard, he can't his hips are speeding up, his strong hands moving to grip your thighs, unaware of how they start to anchor behind your knees.

breed your pretty little wife and give her a baby like she deserves.

with a deep groan, nanami finally loses all control, fingers digging into your supple thighs to push them to your chest and practically folding you in half.

this new angle has him openly moaning like a dirty whore, allowing him to plunge even deeper into your tight, gummy walls, the head of his cock kissing your cervix with each and every deep thrust.

"k-ken, kenny, k-ken," you sob, tears catching onto your lashes as your entire being is assaulted by the endless pleasure your husband is giving you. he doesn't even look like your kento anymore, his pupils blown so wide that you can barely see the ring of greens and brown of his iris.

"f-fuck. 's all your fault, you know that," he hisses, eyes narrowing as he weakly glares down at you. but you can see the hearts in his eyes as he gives in to the pleasure.

his dark eyes bore down into yours, the wet plap plap plap plap of his hips slamming into yours almost overpowering his voice. "if y-you just stayed quiet like i asked, w-we wouldn't be here."

a little spurt of wet gushes out of you, making his fall forward into the juncture of your neck with a groan at the dirty noise it makes,

"god, i-i can feel it, y'know? can feel this sticky pussy—such a dirty little pussy—makin' such a mess. saved it jus' for me, didn't you, baby? mmhm—fuckin' hell, 's tight—thank you god f' giving me such an angel of a wife." nanami is huffing nonsense against your neck, pounding into you with a force that has the bed creaking loudly.

if you weren't being fucked stupid, you would be worried he was about to break the bed.

"you can keep that pretty mouth of yours shut, b-but you jus' had to have the noisiest little cunt."

he's so mean, but it only serves to make you gush even more, the way juices pour out of you and only make the already filthy noises even nastier.

"she's talkin' to me, baby, y'hear it? i'm...i-i'm gonna breed you," he manages to whine into your ear, pulling away to press his sweaty forehead against yours.

his tongue, so pink and pretty—you want it in your mouth, want to taste it want to feel it against yours—runs over his top lip as he watches drool drip down the corner of your mouth while you nod brainlessly.

nanami's never felt so dirty, so unhinged, but it feels so right, feels so fucking good. he never wants to leave your pussy, never wants to pull out, this is where he belongs, buried deep inside you as his cock pumps load after load right into your tummy, giving you what you need, what you deserve.

"yeah? you want that? i'll give it to you, baby, promise, 'm gonna be a good husband a-and knock you up, gonna make you a mommy."

that has you keening, tears pouring down your cheeks at the pleasure it shoots up your spine. you know you're close, but it's different.

it feels different, feels too much, there's pressure you've never felt before from the few times you'd cave in and play with your puffy, swollen clit in the shower when you waited for nanami to get home from work to kiss you to sleep.

no, you feel like you are about to fucking explode. "ken, i-i can't, 'm gonna—s-something's coming," you try to warn, your hands fisting in his hair as you tug and tug and tug.

the pull of his hair makes him moan like a slut, it sounds so fucking good. his eyes are rolling back before he rushes to comfort you, pressing soft little open-mouthed kisses against your lips.

you don't need to fight it, you just need to give it to him, give him what he needs.

"shh, shh, don' cry, y' look t'pretty, honey. l-let it happen, cum for me, i've got you, angel, cum for me s-so i can fill you up," he coos, his hips growing erratic as he feels your silky walls starting to fluttering around him, feeling you teeter on the edge of release.

he shifts, just barely, just enough to better position himself to fuck deeper into you. but that slight movement has his cock smushing against something soft and spongy that makes you sob, growing softer and more pliant under him, and you know you are done for as all you can do is wail his name.

"please, pretty girl, cum for me, show me how good 'm making you feel, soak my cock, c'mon, you can do it."

with a loud mewl that nearly has nanami soaking your walls in cum, you dig your nails into his biceps as you finally, finally cum. and you're right, it is different, your cute pussy squirting and creaming all over his dick.

the poor man is choking back a whine, eyes wide in shock as your cunt just gushes slick everywhere, clenching around him like a vice as you cum.

your juices are soaking his cock and balls, splattering against his lower abdomen obscenely. the thought of making you do that again crosses his mind for a split moment before the need to fill you up for being so good overpowers any other thought.

not giving you a break, he continues his unforgiving fucking, ignoring your cries and pleads for him to slow down.

"nonono, shh, shh, shush, you can take it," he coos against your lips, no longer caring if this was sinning or not. all he could think about was the constant squeezing and spasming of your poor overstimulated slit that was milking him toward his orgasm.

you try to squirm away, but the way he has you folded in half has you unable to do anything but accept his stupidly deep thrusts that make you swear you can taste his cock in the back of your throat.

"t-tha's it." he's panting, slurring his words, his fingers digging into the fat of your thighs. it’s so wet, so messy now, but he can't find it in himself to care.

no, all he can think about as he looks down at you is how you'll have that angelic glow as you grow round with his baby, and everyone will know you're his, that he knocked you up, he pumped you full of his cum, that you're his you're his you're all fucking his—

"f-fuck, honey, i-i can't..." his hips stutter as he does his best to maintain his rhythm, but his own release is barreling down on him. his heavy balls are drawing up tight as they slap against your ass, your juices still pouring out and soaking all of him.

"'m gonna fill you up, 'm gonna pump this—this sinful little cunt f-full of m'cum, angel, gonna knock you up, gonna have you drippin' with me, g-gonna give you a fuckin' baby, shit—"

with a deep, guttural groan, nanami hisses your name as he buries himself as deep as possible, his hot tip kissing your cervix as thick, hot ropes of his potent cum pour right into your womb, hips grinding into you and giving little thrusts as you milk his cock weakly despite your overstimulation.

it's—it's so much, he's still cumming, how was all of this inside of him? you can practically feel it sloshing around inside of you, and you whimper when you feel it gush out around his now softening cock, dripping down your ass onto the bed.

a moment or two passes, and he sits up, pushing his sweaty hair out of his face and looking down at you.

oh.

you sweet thing, you're an absolute mess. you have tear streaks down your cheeks, your lips swollen from him unknowingly biting them between the little kisses he was giving you, a pretty sheen of sweat on you, and...

his eyes trail lower to where his dick is still nestled inside of you, and it takes everything in him to not accidentally thrust his hips a little bit.

it's a creamy, sticky mess, a mixture of his and your cum seeping out your poor, abused pussy.

"o-oh. sorry, my love. i'm...not quiet sure what happened there. i apologize for such...foul language," he mumurs, his hand stroking your hip. "'s okay," you softly coo back to him, your eyes fluttering shut as you try to catch your breath. "i-i liked it..."

but you quickly learn you've married both a man of god and a curious, insatiable bastard who can't help but drag his cum all over your pussy, quickly finding your clit. and the reaction you give him is one he decides he likes, your hips canting up as your soft, oversensitive walls squeeze around his cock again.

"k-kento, that's nasty!"

all you get in response is a grumbling noise in his chest as it takes you weakly slapping your hands against his chest to get his eyes to snap away from your gooey, creamy pussy.

clearing his throat, he looks down at you, that heated look slowly creeping back onto his face. "perhaps we...we should try once more. just to ensure it takes," he states, doing his best to show some semblance of dominance.

but it's impossible when his hair is sticking to his sweaty forehead, his pupils blown as he gazes down at your panting form like he's about to devour you whole.

"after all, a...a big family is what god wants from man and woman, right? so we...shouldn't delay and keep trying." his hand trails up your side before finding its way to your breast, squeezing the soft flesh.

his thumb experimentally rolled your nipple, and the way your body reacted, a soft gasp of his name...how is he supposed to explain the feeling he's getting in the confessional booth?

"y-yeah," he gulps, leaning his head down. you can feel his hot breath against your tit, and you swear you feel drool drip onto your breast. "w-we'll keep trying. jus' to make sure w-we do what the scripture asks."

may god forgive him for being such a fucking liar and a damned bad one at that.

all rights reserved © lxnarphase | do not repost, copy, translate, or alter my work

[misfitmasquerave]

TAGS!

💀 a mazda bongo friendee // ooc. 🎭 welcome to the masquerade // p. 🎭 so this is the fabled tilted towers // crack. 🎭 i am a lost boy from neverland // steven. 🎭 i found something in the woods somewhere // dipper. 🎭 brighter than a shooting star // mabel. 🎭 i will not surrender; this life is mine // chilchuck. 🎭 you can't kill an idea. // marcille. 🎭 i'll be anything but ordinary // laios. 🎭 toss your oatmeal & eat something new // senshi. 🎭 fish in a birdcage // hunter. 🎭 life's alright in devil town // luz. 🎭 we'll make the world our playground // collector. 🎭 tunnel vision from the outsider's screen // gordon. 🎭 feelin' so matryoshka // benrey. 🎭 come hang; let's go out with a bang! // tommy. 🎭 in the clearing stands a boxer // coomer. 🎭 strike a match & burn it down // bubby. 🎭 i gotta ramble on // rambley.

[heavenbarnes]

anyways, as i was saying about older bf!simon and his willingness to please learn

pt 2 to this

“you ever heard of a nut video with sound on?”

obviously, he hasn’t- far as he’s concerned, if you haven’t told him about it then it doesn’t exist to him.

no skin off your nose, you’d spend the rest of your life teaching him about the ‘latest trends’ if it meant he kept sending those filthy fucking videos to your phone.

(your favourites on tiktok were purely filled with ideas)

he’s holed up in a remote location, killing time till he can be home and actually do something to you rather than send you a bloody video about it.

your instructions come through clear and concise, just how he likes:

“it’s what’s written on the can, si- you can pick the setup but i just want to see you cum and, most importantly, i want to hear it”

you’re lucky simon is such a practical guy and maybe you could thank price one day for making him so good at following orders.

when he’s got his alone time he’s setting his phone up to record on the edge of the window sill, moonlight fighting through the curtain to illuminate him.

he’s lost the bulkiest of his gear, down to his tactical trousers and a compression t-shirt. the images in his tattoo sleeve almost move when the light catches them right.

balaclava on (the one that just shows his eyes above the painted image of a skull) and he’s standing up to undo his belt (that you think looks like an airplane seatbelt).

you can hear his boots against the floorboard as he steps back to give you the full view of him undoing his trousers, taking his sweet time because he knows it drives you fucking batty.

he’s so big that the phone is working overtime to get all of him in the frame but you see exactly what you need to- thick thighs at your eye line and massive hands drawing down his fly.

on (you assume) the other side of the globe, you’re at home in your shared bed and you’re propped up right in the middle with the smell of simon engulfing you as you watch the video play out before you.

(if you’d thought about it you should’ve cast it to the bedroom tv, hoping the neighbours didn’t mind)

simon sits back down with his legs spread wide, one hand gripping his thigh as the other rubs himself over his boxers. his eye contact with the camera was fucking intense, like you’d hoped, just like when he’s on top of you.

he’s dressed in all black and the moonlight is obscured but you can still see him firming up in his pants. his eyes flutter, an infinitesimal amount but you’ve been tuned into his every move since you met him.

your thumb leans hard on the volume up button and you can hear the diegetic sound of the building expanding and that usual technical hum that comes with a video. but at this pitch, you could hear him.

his breathing was chopped, chest expanding visibly as he pulled his cock out into clear view. jeeeeesus christ, it was never something you just got used to.

long, reasonably straight, fucking thick. even his hand struggled to make it look smaller as he wrapped around it, giving one dry tug.

as he closed his palm over the tip, you saw him make a swipe before he brought his hand back down considerably smoother than before. you’d had your hands down his pants enough times, man leaked like a fucking faucet.

simon’s head tipped back as he started to pull himself off, balaclava raising just enough to expose some of his throat. if you were there you would be perched in his lap, letting him do the work but running your tongue under the lip of the fabric.

one of the best things about the videos simon sent was, he didn’t really understand how sexy he was. he didn’t think any of the videos particularly watchable so he’d just send them on first take. if you liked them, you liked them- yours was the only opinion that mattered.

what that meant was, you never got b-roll. everything he sent you was unbridled perfection. captured exactly as it happens with no faffing about.

always whatever you’ve asked for, whenever you ask.

(simon’s nothing if not inexplicably obedient)

he brings his hand under his chin to spit into the wide span of his palm, wrapping back around his cock and tugging. his foreskin moved over the head, rolling back down and thick veins bulging under his grasp.

you’d almost forgotten the conditions of your request, totally fucking enamoured by the sight in front of you when it caught you off guard.

a guttural moan ripped out of simon’s chest as he twisted his wrist.

his free hand moved to cup his balls, big and heavy, he rolled them in his palm as another groan sounded out of him. what you wouldn’t give to be knelt between his thighs with the whole lot in your mouth.

you knew how much of an ask this was, you really had to work him up to making noise when it was just you two in bed. these days? you couldn’t shut the man up when he was balls deep and his face was buried in the crook of your neck.

but this was another step, this was him on his own with his crew just through the walls. he’d be a plain liar if he said there wasn’t that rumbling trepidation in his chest. he’d put it to bed though.

all he had to think of was you, one hand gripping your phone and the other between your thighs as you watched him through with a hazy smile- that kept him going.

with the thought still heavy on his mind, you didn’t have to strain to hear your name drift off his lips. his hips bucked into his hand as he did, speeding up the motion of his strokes.

you were going to black out, his tattoos flexing and his chest expanding with every stuttered breath. simon looked like a god among men and he fucking sounded like one too.

“fuck, sweetheart- you’re so fucking filthy giving me orders like this”

your cheeks were burning, he wasn’t wrong but you weren’t expecting him to call you out quite like this.

“what does that make me? always so fucking eager to do what you say? make a dirty old man, yeah?”

wheeeeeew that’ll do it, your thighs snapped together around your hand as your eyes nearly rolled back in your head. whenever you thought you couldn’t take any more, he was always there to do you one better.

“only for you, pet- you can always get whatever you fucking want from me”

and you knew he was serious, that’s what made it all the more debilitating. simon was unshakeable, you’d seen him go out of his way to defy orders if he didn’t think the person worth his time.

when it came to you? you could tell him to kill and he would.

(he probably had)

simon’s hips were twitching, back arching in a way he’d rather die than have anyone else know about. his mouth was hanging open beneath the balaclava, your name and a string of expletives falling off his tongue.

so quick you nearly missed it, the hand that was cradling his balls moved to grip the fabric of his shirt and push it up his toned front. you couldn’t call his abs cut and defined, there was aged layer to them, but they were undeniably there.

you’d rested your head on them, pressed your palms against them, even ridden them enough times to know they were there. regardless, he looked fucking perfect under the moon glow as he stroked himself hard and long.

eyes locked onto the camera, broken moans on his lips, you saw his hips lift one last time as thick spurts of cum began to paint his stomach and chest.

scars illuminated under the night sky, mirrored by shiny patches of hot cum splattered across the same stretch of skin. the hairs on his chest were matted with sweat and were now being splashed with how far he was shooting.

you could only watch with your mouth hung open as he tugged himself through his orgasm. soon it was only the sound of his laboured breathing, chest rising and falling as he tucked his soft cock back into his pants.

just when you thought that was it, you found one of his hands lifting up the edge of his balaclava till his lips were exposed. two fingers of his other hand swiped up some of his spend before he lay them on his tongue.

knuckles in your mouth, biting down to suppress a scream, simon readjusted his clothes as he stood and took a heavy step towards the camera.

one hand braced on the window sill, the other gently gripping himself through his trousers- his voice was so fucking gravely it could’ve reverberated round your room.

“what’s next sweet’art? you name it, it’s yours”

[yanderenightmare]

♡ TW: nsfw, dubcon, yandere, omegaverse, forced/accidental bonding, subjugation

♡ part one

♡ fem reader

Once you wake up in the morning, you feel… changed.

Your body feels full—as though you’d indulged too much last night—heavy and sticky and sore all over. There’s a strange taste in your mouth—sweet, somewhat salty, and metallic. Geez, you’re head’s pounding—how much did you drink last night? No, this feels different from a hangover—more full-bodied than that—a withdrawal of some kind or another. You must have done more at the party than drink, and yet, you can’t remember having stayed there all that long. No, you left with someone. That’s right. You went with… that overgrown Omega.

Oh no.

“Good morning, sleepyhead!”

He comes in only wearing a pair of snug boxers—body stacked with brawn, not a single hint of Omega-like softness aside from his tousled bed hair. There’s a big toothy smile on his face—eyes are creased in cheer while carrying an overfull breakfast tray. You know you’re hungry, and yet you can’t bring yourself to feel anything but sick to your stomach by the horrid sight of his flaunted neck, decorated by a gory ring of your bitemark.

No. No, no, no, no, no! Fuck! “Tell me that’s not what I think it is…”

He laughs lightly with an awkward smile, apologetically scratching the back of his neck while balancing the tray in the other hand. “I’m afraid so…”

The world stops spinning, and for a moment, you think it might actually never start up again. Your throat snares, and you think you might throw up. How the fuck could this happen?

He sets the tray down next to you, then himself. The whole bed takes waves upon his weight. You remain still—eyes unrest and mouth hung.

“Hey, I know this might not be what we had planned, but…” he starts.

But you don’t let him finish before declaring, “I’ll take full responsibility.”

There’s nothing else to do, you think. The red string of fate has tied the two of you together. It’s sealed.

“There is no going back now.”

His face expresses shock, but if you’d taken a closer look, he’d probably not be able to hide it—the overwhelming sensation of victory. Oh, bless your Alpha pride. He knew you would say that.

He smiles softly. “I’m in your care then.”

It’s a work in progress after that—slow in the beginning, but that’s to be expected. You never pegged yourself to be the type who got caught up in the unmendable mistakes of a one-night stand, but then here you were—mated with a stranger, moving into his apartment because it’s bigger and closer to work, sharing the same bed and eating the same meals and helping each other through one another’s ruts and heats.

He's still no closer to being your type. In fact, he’s the total opposite—too giant to give you even a semblance worth of superiority over him. A couple of days ago, when he’d been searching for the remote in the couch you were lying on, he’d taken to pick you up instead of just asking you to move. It was completely humiliating. He’s so brazen, and it’s starting to become clear he’s doing it all on purpose!

He doesn’t get fussy when you state your claim of being the one on top—no, but what he does instead is somehow worse, going along with it with snide praise, grinning up at you, his big hands weighing heavy on your haunches as you roll them, calling you his good girl. It seems to humor him how it angers you—chuckling behind your hands as you layer them both atop his mouth, growling at him to “Shut up!”

No, he doesn’t mind letting you take charge. He rather enjoys the view of watching you ride—working so hard to appease him while he rests pretty and admires your body—all soft edges and plush curves. You tire quickly, though—poor thing, why don’t you leave the rest to him?

You had rejected it the first few times he’d offered. Your bruised pride simply wouldn’t have it—you’d rather you both stop than let him finish you off. But a couple more nights and you’d quicker come around than either of you expected—perhaps worn down by his constant nagging or simply fed up with your own failure—you let him assist by bouncing you on his lap.

You wouldn’t admit it to his face, never, but you’d enjoyed it far more than you could have ever thought…

Thankfully, your face in and of its own glory told him all he needed to know. It didn’t take long before he’d taken full advantage of it, nor for you to begin allowing it without being asked. Soon you were letting him fuck you against the wall, making the entire room shake—wall creaking and shelves rattling, pictures falling down. You hold your tongue and hold on tightly, arms and legs wrapped around him—moaning sweetly right by his ear. Fuck, you even bite him again.

As time passed, you came around to indulging more and more of his antics. Letting him fuck you from behind—hard and heavy and deep—thrusting into you while grappling your waist. You even go down on all fours when he does it—digging your claws into the sheets.

Lying belly-up beneath him still makes you feel nervous—and slightly ashamed—almost convinced something’s wrong with you for liking it. And yet you can’t help it. You know any other Omega wouldn’t fuck you like this. They wouldn’t have the stamina, the drive, or the desire. Not like him, who does it all like it’s his nature even when it shouldn’t be.

Guess you’re both freaks.

♡ BNHA – Deku, Kirishima, Hawks, Amajiki ♡ JJK – Gojo, Geto ♡ HQ – Kuro, Oikawa, Miya twins, Tendou ♡ BLLK – Reo, Nagi, Bachira, Isagi ♡ DS – Doma ♡ WB – Suo, Togame

♡ FEM x M INSERT masterlist ♡ GN x M INSERT masterlist

[bi-writes]

i NEED to know how simon would react to his mail order bride getting all pretty one night.... like maybe the night of their wedding... and she's all nervous because she thinks he expects sex and she's so paranoid about offending him or making the wrong noises or just being a nuisance

mail-order bride

simon and mail order bride did not having a wedding; they are married before they meet. have a peek into their first evening together. (18+)

simon laid your suitcase down onto the floor of his bedroom. you look around anxiously, eyeing the bedroom that is supposed to be your own. there's a king-sized bed in the middle of the room, matching dark-wood nightstands on each side. there's one that's clearly being used, a phone charging there and a half-full glass of water.

there's a dresser on the far wall, littered with picture frames and small trinkets, seemingly from other countries. little russian dolls and different fabrics from different places, wooden elephants and small dishes of wonderful patterns. there's a few drawers open there, and when you make your way closer, you can see it's because they're empty. he must've emptied them out for you to use.

there's one picture frame that's face-down. you pick it up to peek at it, and you smile when you look at the picture there. it's simon and a few similarly-looking people. simon is in uniform, face clear of scars. there's an older woman on one side of him, and then on the other side is a little family of three, a sweet couple and a little toddler on the woman's hip. you put it back down facing up before turning back to your suitcase.

you were supposed to just put your pajamas on. simon had been cleaning up the kitchen, and you figure that meant it was time for bed. you rummage through your suitcase, going to reach for your pajamas when you see the little lingerie set you packed.

it still has the tags on it. it's a red pair of lace panties with a matching bra, complete with little crystal bows and lots of detail. you clutch the lace in your hands, looking towards the door. simon doesn't seem like the kind of man to ask you to do something you wouldn't want to do. but you don't know what his expectations might be. you don't know how he intends his wife to behave.

you stand and take the undergarments with you to the bathroom. you change into them, sliding the pieces on and adjusting them until they fit you nicely. you swallow hard as you look in the mirror, smoothing your hands over your body; your tummy, your thighs, over your breasts. you don't know if he'll even like what he sees. you don't know what he expected you to look like, if he got to choose, if he knows what you are underneath and wanted you because of it or in spite of it.

when you come out of the bathroom, simon is rummaging through one of his drawers. when he turns around to face you, he immediately turns back around.

"fuckin' christ--what the fuck are y'doin'?"

you flinch at the bite of his voice. you wrap your arms around yourself in an attempt to self-soothe, your eyes tearing immediately as you take in his reaction.

"i..." you stutter. "i...i-i thought--"

"you thought wot?" he snaps, and when he turns around to come closer, you panic, taking the straps in shaking hands and starting to pull them down your arms for him. "no, fuck, stop that--"

he puts his hands over yours before your breasts can spill out of the bra. he narrows his eyes at you, shaking his head, and you start to cry softly.

"s-simon, i'm sorry--i-i thought--"

"shhh," he shushes you. "just...quiet."

your bottom lip trembles as he takes the lace straps of your bra delicately and brings them back up, smoothing them back onto your shoulders. you close your eyes when he cups your cheeks, big thumbs wiping at your face as he soothes you silently.

when simon emerges in the bathroom, he tries to be subtle as he cups himself through his boxers, sighing deeply as he flicks the light on. he jumps a little as he steps back, the cat sitting on the edge of the sink and staring at him knowingly.

simon gives it the finger before shooing it back outside.

[yuujispinkhair]

Boxer!Sukuna headcanons

Inspired by this lovely ask. Thank you so much for sending me that and making me lose my mind over Boxer!Sukuna.

Pairing: Boxer!Sukuna x Reader (female) Genre: fluff + smut Word Count: 1.5k Warnings: 18+, modern AU, smut, squirting. Mentions of boxing injuries, biting, blood. I know that boxers usually wear a groin protector, but I chose to ignore this for this AU because I wanted to write a sexy detail lol. Sukuna + Reader are in a relationship. Minors don't interact. Divider @/benkeibear

++ Boxer!Sukuna, who always wants you by his side backstage until it's time for him to enter the arena. You are his good luck charm and the only one who is allowed to wrap the bandages around his hands before he slips into his gloves. Not that he needs any luck with the skills he has, but he loves seeing you press your sweet kisses on his boxing gloves and smile at him before you hug him tightly and tell him to please be careful.

++ Boxer!Sukuna, who gets a warm feeling in his heart when he sees how worried you always are. Much more nervous before his fights than he is. But he always reassures you, wrapping his muscular tattooed arms tightly around you and hugging you to his firm body while he tells you, "Don't worry, princess. You know I never lose."

++ Boxer!Sukuna, who smiles while you help him get dressed before a fight, helping him slip into the white silk kimono he wears for his ring entrance show. He can clear his mind the best when he feels your gentle hands caressing over his broad back.

++ Boxer!Sukuna, who gives you his most charming smile before he grabs your chin and asks you for a good luck kiss, not just on his boxing gloves but also on his lips.

++ Boxer!Sukuna, who always tells you he loves you before he leaves the backstage area. And hearing your "I love you, too" in return gives him another surge of motivation.

++ Boxer!Sukuna, whose ring-entrance show always makes the crowd go wild. The whole arena is bathed in blood-red light. A picture of an ancient shrine in a sea of blood gets projected onto the large screens. Dramatic classical music starts playing as a huge throne of skulls emerges from the fog, with Sukuna lounging casually on it, his head resting on the back of his hand. He's wearing the snow-white kimono and a crown on his pink hair, presenting himself as The King of Curses, which is his stage name.

++ Boxer!Sukuna, whose stage name fits him perfectly. One look at him and his powerful body and that dangerous and ambitious glint in his eyes, and everyone knows this guy is truly a King in the boxing ring.

++ Boxer!Sukuna, who gracefully walks towards the ring with an arrogant look on his tattooed face, only accompanied by his assistant Uraume, who walks a few steps behind him as if they are a loyal shrine servant who follows their master obediently. They take off Sukuna's kimono for him and bow respectfully while the crowd cheers loudly.

++ Boxer!Sukuna, who looks intimidating but beautiful as he stands there with a posture like a God while the white silk slips off his broad shoulders and reveals all the firm muscles and the sexy tattoos on his tall, athletic body.

++ Boxer!Sukuna, who drops his serious act the moment he climbs into the ring and instead smirks his most charming smirk and lifts a hand to casually wave at his fans, letting them celebrate him as if he already won.

++ Boxer!Sukuna, whose last glance before every match belongs to you, though. As much as he enjoys the attention and worship from his fans, he always loves your gaze on him the most. You are the one who grounds him before a fight, the one who gives him the strength and the right mindset to lead him to victory.

++ Boxer!Sukuna, whose maroon eyes look directly into yours while he kisses his boxing gloves, at the same spot where your lips left their kisses a few minutes ago backstage. And right before he turns around to face the referee and his opponent, he winks at you and mouths, "I'll win this fight for you, baby".

++ Boxer!Sukuna, who already mocks his opponent before the fight even starts. Smiling tauntingly at him and asking him if he is scared. "You know, you can still run, little boy."

++ Boxer!Sukuna, who looks so sexy during his fights. All of his attacks are powerful and well-planned. He moves gracefully through the ring, like a big cat on the prowl, beautiful and deadly. Everyone can see that he isn't someone who just relies on his brute strength. Sukuna is intelligent, and he uses his mind to win his fights.

++ Boxer!Sukuna, who is both hated and loved by the judges. They hate how cocky he is but admire his skills and respect him for how well-prepared he is for his matches.

++ Boxer!Sukuna, who wins most of his fights with a knockout, laughing triumphantly when the referee counts down the seconds.

++ Boxer!Sukuna, who only loses fights when he gets disqualified for committing a foul. Sometimes, he bites his opponents, drawing blood with his sharp teeth and laughing as he licks the blood off his lips. You know that this is also part of Sukuna's strategy. He is too controlled to let himself get carried away during a fight, but he loves the reputation those bloody attacks give him, basking in the fear he sees in his opponents' eyes when he whispers to them before a fight, "Did you see the guy I bit last month? Let's see how your blood tastes on my tongue."

++ Boxer!Sukuna, who is brilliant at blocking punches but also cannot be stopped if he gets hit. You used to be worried sick when you saw him receiving blows to the head until Sukuna reassured you that he is allowing it on purpose. It's all for the show. And sometimes, because he craves the pain since, it will spur him on even more.

++ Boxer!Sukuna, who laughs after every punch his opponent lands, smirking cat-like as he licks the blood off his cracked lip, and his wild maroon eyes glitter amusedly at the other guy: "Aww, was that all you can do, brat? Gimme more, come on! Punch me! Make me bleed for real, you coward!"

++ Boxer!Sukuna, who looks so sexy with his tattooed skin all sweaty, every muscle in his tall, strong body taut. His veins standing out, and his broad chest rising and sinking as he breathes deeply. The outline of his long, thick cock visible through his dark red boxing shorts, making you want him so much.

++ Boxer!Sukuna, who wears a sexy smirk on his beautiful tattooed face when he gets declared winner. He looks deeply into your eyes when the referee yanks his hand into the air to signal his win. This first moment is always for you alone, mesmerizing maroon eyes silently telling you that Sukuna dedicates this win to you.

++ Boxer!Sukuna, who then punches his fist into the air and does a little round in the ring to let the crowd celebrate him like the King that he is. He is a professional, giving his fans what they crave, even while he craves something very different at that moment after a match.

++ Boxer!Sukuna, who expects you to wait for him in his private locker room backstage, naked and wet, with your legs spread, ready to get taken by him.

++ Boxer!Sukuna, who takes you rough and hard. He needs to fuck you to come down again after being so pumped up during his fight. His tall, muscular body is still dripping with sweat, smelling so sexy, a mix of sweat and musk and his expensive cologne. His breath is loud and harsh in your ear, turning into low, hoarse groans as he pounds your cunt with his cock and his heavy balls, just like he pounded his opponent with his fists.

++ Boxer!Sukuna, who rubs your swollen clit firmly and whispers dirty things in your ear, making sure you give him your everything and squirt all over him when you cum on his fat cock.

++ Boxer!Sukuna, who coos at you and calls you his good girl, his love, as he chases his own orgasm, finally allowing himself to let go, fucking you with hard erratic thrusts, his face buried in your neck, moaning loudly until he captures your lips in a heated kiss when he shoots his hot cum into your cunt.

++ Boxer!Sukuna, who cuddles you afterward, pressing himself tightly against you while he is still buried balls-deep inside you, resting his forehead against yours and thanking you for being his lucky charm and the one who gives him strength. He stays like that, pressing you down with his heavy body, kissing you tenderly until his breathing finally calms down and the sweat on his body begins to dry.

++ Boxer!Sukuna, who picks you up and murmurs to you, "Hold on to me, princess," before he carries you to the shower, not letting go of you even for a second, needing his princess on his cock and in his arms.

++ Boxer!Sukuna, who showers with you and lets you wash him, sighing when you massage shower gel into his taut muscles, caressing him, and cleaning him, easing the tension in his body.

++ Boxer!Sukuna, who returns the favor and lets his large, calloused hands wander gently over your naked and soaped-up body while he kisses you nonstop. Who caresses another orgasm out of you while you stroke his long thick cock slowly, making him spill his seed all over your hand.

++ Boxer!Sukuna, who isn't the famous boxer, The King of Curses, anymore, when he is here under the shower with you. Here he is just Sukuna, your fiancé, who is joking around with you, all playful again, grinning that sexy grin and kissing you so sweetly, whispering against your skin how much you mean to him, and asking you where you want to have a late dinner tonight.

++ Boxer!Sukuna, who fucks you once more, this time against the shower wall with your legs wrapped tightly around his hips and your hands in his pink hair. But this time, it is slow, sensual lovemaking. Slow, deep thrusts and tender French kisses until you both find completion at the same time and moan into each other's mouth. The perfect finish for a successful match.

HE IS SO SEXY 😭😭 I didn't know I would write so much for Boxer!Sukuna, but I enjoyed it so much to think of his dramatic ring-entrance show and the way he boxes, etc. I hope you enjoyed it too!!

Comments and reblogs would be very sweet.

Update: There is a Part 2 now, in which Boxer!Sukuna and Reader have a baby together

[sangwookisser]

⭒DUMMY - THANOS⭒

cw: slight bimbo! reader, name-calling, degrading, corruption kink, naive! reader, oral sex (m receiving), cum eating, dumbification, semi public sex (there's a camera in the room), hair pulling, dubcon

a/n: if this does well ill hopefully write a part two

Ever since you'd arrived to this shithole, Thanos had been on your case. He was sort of sleazy, flirting with any girl who'd look at him twice, but it was clear you were his favorite.

From Thanos' experience with women, most would act uninterested and secretly want him, or be uninterested and tell him to go fuck himself. Either way, he could probably get a clear read on them after one or two conversations. You, on the other hand, were impossible to decipher.

He'd never met someone as meek as you. You'd scurry away and lower your head if he so much as looked at you, you'd listen to his voice and be sure to avoid the location it was coming from, and you refused to respond to him. You just bowed and apologized and ran away.

Like a fawn.

He'd never been so fascinated by someone before. You had these huge doe eyes with long fucking lashes, and whenever he'd tease you too much, they'd get all wide and glassy and your lip would wobble, then you'd run away with your hands over your ears. He wasn't sure if you thought he was going to wring your neck the second you let your guard down or something, but shit, the way your eyes looked when they were red rimmed and watery, or how you'd look up at him and worry your plush lower lip between your teeth, God, it left a throbbing ache in his boxers.

It was a new morning, and he was just aching to come find you so he could tease you or pull your hair a bit to listen to the sounds you'd make, but to his surprise, you'd slept under your bed, curled into a ball with a pillow under your head. Holy shit, you were such a coward. He couldn't believe it.

You were still half asleep when you felt him pulling you out from under the bedframe, and your head lolled, your vision blurry and unadjusted to the light. His dick twitched with interest as he sat you upright in front of him, holding your arms so you couldn't run.

He brushed his hand over your smooth, silky hair, watching the way you shivered and looked like a lost baby animal. You were so soft, he thought. From how close he was sitting, he could see the little freckles dotted on your nose, small, but there, the way your lower lip was raw from your anxious biting, and the way your pupils slowly contracted as you focused your vision.

You whined anxiously, not understanding why he was examining you so closely.

"Why are you so scared of me, hm?" He asked softly, holding your face now, watching you, analyzing you.

You didn't speak, petrified, and he let out an annoyed sound, squeezing your face in his hands as you whimpered at the contact, your eyes filling with those stupid fucking tears as if on cue. He squeezed more, watching the way your lips squished together, pink and plush, like soft cherries. Fuck, he wanted a taste.

He leaned in...

"Hey man, are you going to the line for breakfast? We gotta hurry if we wanna get ahead of all these hungry bastards."

Thankfully, his friend came up behind him and startled both of you, making Thanos jump a bit. He's pissed out of his fucking mind as you take the opportunity to bolt, just like always. Thanos could punch something. He grunted and scowled at his friend, shooting you one last look before he stood up and roughly shoulder checked the idiot that made him lose you, as he stalked away with a scowl.

You walked into the spacious, circular room with trepidation, wringing your hands together. By now, a lot of the players had found teams or integrated themselves into tight knit groups, but you didn't fit in with any of them. Moreso, you didn't trust anyone here. You follow the crowd onto the platform and stand on one of the inner corners, hoping not to be jostled off and shoved to the ground.

The P.A. system announces a game called Mingle, where you're instructed to enter a room with a certain number of people before the timer goes down. Naturally, there's not enough rooms for everyone, and you figured a large chunk of people wouldn't make it out of here alive.

Anxiety overwhelmed you as you watched people whisper to one another, making strategies and alliances to ensure they can win the game. You had no one. You hugged yourself soothingly, failing to notice the way Thanos' eyes are trained on you.

You're pathetic. Anyone with a brain would start talking or kissing ass to try and find a group to join, but you just sort of gave up. You wouldn't speak, wouldn't ask for help. You just stood there and accepted your fate. He was so intent on watching your stupid little face scrunch up that he barely noticed the platform start to move and a song begin to play.

When the platform stopped suddenly and the announcer called for ten people, he gestured for his team to follow him before grabbing you by the forearm and instructing his friends to grab a few more people, while he pulled you to a room, holding you still. You looked up at him with surprise and worry, your big fucking eyes all glossy once more.

"What's wrong with you, huh?" He snaps. "Are you trying to get yourself killed? You didn't even fucking move, you're just standing there and waiting to get a bullet in your stupid little head." You whimper, hearing the lock click as Thanos' friends manage to collect enough people in time, while his attention remains on you. Your lip wobbles at the sound of him yelling at you, and he feels his blood heat up a little bit. Fuck, you get to him so much. He just wanted to kiss you, just once. Maybe bite your plump lips. Or put his cock between them.

"'M-mmf... s-sorry, I j-just di-didn't think-"

"Do you ever?" He interrupts you, poking your forehead hard enough for you to stumble, and you pant softly as you manage to catch your footing, your heart racing. "You just stand there all the time and bat your lashes like some stupid little doll. In case you haven't noticed, dummy, your life's on the line."

You nod quickly, the timer ending at the perfect moment as you're able to slide out of the room quickly before you had to endure any more berating comments from Thanos.

He followed you, though, grabbing onto the back of your tracksuit jacket, causing you to stumble back and be dragged along with him as he sets you in front of him in his arms as the music starts again.

The cycle continues.

Though you wouldn't say it out loud, you did feel a lot safer with Thanos herding you around like you were a puppy on a leash. You were guaranteed to find a room each time because he'd throw people out of the way to get to a vacant room first, and you'd be with him each and every time.

Until the last number was called. Two. He pulled you along by your wrist to a room, shoving stragglers out of his path and having no regrets about it, laughing as he locks you two in the cramped room together, the air stale and warm with the faint, unpleasant scent of blood from outside. The timer continues to go down.

"They'll probably have us in these rooms longer." he comments, looking at you as you tremble a bit, shaken and on edge, though you don't know if its because you're alone with him or because of the sound of screams and gunshots that will likely follow sooner than later.

"Wh-why?" You ask softly, and he scoffs, staring at you like he's looking at a misbehaved child. he stoops to your level, pinching your chin between his fingers to tip your head up, rendering your attempts to avoid eye contact futile.

"Because they gotta take longer to shoot everyone 'cause there's barely any rooms left. And they gotta clean up the blood after and sanitize the place."

"O-oh. Why can't they do it after?" You press further. You're not sure if you're so winded and overwhelmed that nothing makes sense to you right now and you feel the need to ask so many questions, but Thanos just seems to think you're the dumbest little thing in the world.

He scoffs and shakes his head lowly, pushing a thumb swiftly past your lips and pushing down on your tongue so any sound you make is muffled.

"Are you this stupid or are you talking just to talk? God, I had to shut up because you were giving me a migraine. That's why pretty bitches like you should just shut up and have your mouth stuffed all the time, because half of you are always dumb as rocks. Why would they do it after, dummy? They can't have dead bodies and blood everywhere and have us walking around in it."

You whimper at the degradation and cruel words, your brain going fuzzy at the salty taste of his digit around your tongue and the mixture of praise in his words. He called you pretty, didn't he? Pretty but dumb... you don't know what to say, and so you slobber a bit as he pushes it deeper, struggling to accommodate it into your mouth.

Thanos, on the other hand, is so focused on your sweet little face and the way your eyes go glassy as you get his thumb wet, the soft motion of your tongue gliding over his thumb turning his brain into mush. And then, he can't take it anymore. He pulls it out of your mouth, slapping your face lightly to keep you present, because he can already start to see you spacing.

"Get on your knees." He says roughly, pushing at your shoulders to guide you down into a kneeling position, and you didn't have it in you to resist.

He grabbed a handful of your pretty hair into his fist, not caring about how long he'd have until it was time to leave. He was tired of the bullshit coming out of your mouth, tired of your big fucking eyes and the way you'd bat your lashes at him and pout without even realizing the effect you had on him, tired of the way you got him so hot and made his cock swell and twitch without trying.

Even now, you stared up at him almost reverently, your eyes confused and so fucking innocent. God. He could only dream of the look on your face when he blows a fat load of cream on it. The thought made him more hard.

He shoved your face into his bulge, the thin fabric of his tracksuit pants doing little to obscure the feeling. You gasped, little hands holding onto his legs to keep yourself steady as he pants, rubbing himself against your face. You had no idea what was happening, and so you shut your eyes, muffled protests leaving your lips.

"Oh my God, shut up." Thanos snapped, glaring down at you. "Shut your dumb fucking mouth."

You tried to pull your head away, and he scowled, yanking your head away from his clothed bulge and staring down at you.

"Take my pants off." He snapped, and your eyes widened. Swallowing thickly, you tried to stand up for yourself. "Bu-but there's people outside," You jumped as shooting went off on cue, and your gaze turned to the door, your heart pounding at what may be going on outside, but he tugged your hair, making you look up at him once more.

"W-we don't know how long we'll be in here, an-and th-" You hiccupped, looking up at the shiny camera pointing down at the two of you, but he interrupted. "I said shut up. What part of that did you not understand? You're lucky I don't tear your clothes off and give whoever's watching a show." He manhandled you so his back was to the camera, blocking you from view.

"There, happy?"

You whined, a little wary, but you knew this was the best you'd get. "Now take my pants off. And my boxers. Now." He snapped, and your throat burned, your mind reeling as you began to peel off his pants, letting them drop to the ground, while your fingers curled around his boxers, pausing at the sight of his bulge. Thick and fat, with dewy moisture collecting at the top, the clear liquid spilling out of the tip.

You gulped again, pulling his boxers down too, causing his fat length to hit your cheek faintly before it stood to attention. You stared at in disbelief. The mushroom head was an angry red, while the shaft itself was thick, veiny, and long, and curved slightly to the left.

He must have thought you were stalling, as he pushed your head forward again. "Stop wasting time, kid. Suck on it."

You frown at the nickname, and hesitate. The sheer size and girth of his cock intimidated you, and you look back up at him weakly. He groans, running a hand down his face.

"Don't tell me you've never sucked dick before."

Your lip wobbles, and you shake your head, lost for words. He scoffs and pushes your face right up to his cock. "Lick the balls first, then the shaft, and then the tip, then get as much as you can in your mouth and suck. It's not fucking hard, dummy. And don't scrape your teeth on it. Shit fucking hurts."

You look down at his plump balls, slowly lowering your head and shyly placing kitten licks on each of them, following his instructions. He grunts, dick twitching with interest at your motions, and he pushes your face more firmly into the sack to coax you to put more pressure on your tongue.

You oblige, licking slowly but steadily, and his eyes glaze a bit as he watches you look up at him for approval while you slowly and steadily lick up his shaft, making your way to his tip where you begin to focus your tongue, swirling it around the head and along the slit. He lets out short puffs of air as he watches you gulp down some of his precum, his head spinning.

You had seemed to have never done this before, but then you stare at him like that, and lick him with such precision that he stops to rethink his decision. He doesn't realize that he's started moaning and stopped being mean to you.

"F-fu-fuck... Ohhh..." Stifled moans leave his parted lips as his pupils blow wide, the sounds making you throb gently in your cotton panties.

"Ju-just like that, sh-sh...shit..." He gently pushes your head down so your mouth wraps around the whole tip of his cock, and his head lolls back as you slowly start to bob your head, drowsy pleasure overwhelming him.

He felt like such a virgin right now. Getting worked up over some silly girl blowing him like he hadn't done this a million times before. Maybe it was just because you were so goddamn pretty. The way your mouth looked stuffed with cock made him fucking crazy. It was so wet and warm inside, and you were sucking him in like you didn't want him to go anywhere. You had to have done this before.

Your tongue traces shyly over the veins on his cock, and you let out a soft gagging sound as his fat cock hits the back of your throat. You splutter a bit, drooling around the shaft as you wrap a tiny hand around the base, twisting and tugging gently. He keens, pulling you in further and shoving your mouth so deep that your nose is nearly up against the neat patch of hair above his cock. You let out a spluttering sound, your throat tightening on him as you gag and breathe in deeply through your nose, your head swimming and your vision blurring with tears.

"Nngh... mmmh... fuuuck," He chokes out. "Shit... ahhh... so fuckin'... good... su-suck me harder, cmon dummy." He groaned, his hips twitching forward involuntarily, seeking more of that incredible, wet heat engulfing his throbbing cock. The slick, suckling sounds filled the room, punctuated by Thanos' escalating panting breaths and garbled exclamations of bliss.

His chest heaved, muscles flexing beneath sweat-slicked skin as the pleasure built to a fever pitch. The man's eyes rolled back, only the whites visible as he lost himself in the mind-numbing ecstasy of the moment. "Fuck yeah...just... ahh... like that, gorgeous, use that m-mouth..." If he were coherent right now, he'd slap himself and try to shut up, but he can't. He guides your head into the rhythm he's set for you, listening to the sloppy, garbled sound of you sucking, and occasionally choking on his cock.

At this point, your pussy is soaked and clenched around nothing, light moans leaving your own lips. the vibrations make him tremble, and he nearly stumbles backwards with how good this is. He can't even imagine what your pussy would do to him if your mouth was this good.

The sloppy sounds build in speed as he moves your head faster, loud wails leaving his mouth as he ignores the commotion of the cleaning process going on outside the room. "Ohhh god, I can't... baby... ngh... I'm gonna fuckin' lose it..." Thanos gasped out, his words spilling out in a frantic, babbled rush as he clawed desperately at your hair, trying to hold on to the last threads of his rapidly unraveling control. 

Thanos panted out between gasping breaths, his voice tight with desperation as he felt the telltale tingling rising from the pit of his stomach. His grip on your hair tightened, fingers curling and uncurling erratically as he struggled to hold back the impending avalanche of ecstasy threatening to crash over him at any moment.

"Ahh... fuck... it's too much... too fuckin' good..." he whimpered, eyes squeezing shut as he tried valiantly to stave off the inevitable. With the last dregs of his rapidly fading willpower, he managed to tug at your hair, reluctantly pulling your mouth off his throbbing, pulsing cock with a slick pop. It bobbed obscenely in the cool air, flushed a deep, angry red and leaking copiously as it strained towards its release.

"G-god... unh... I'm gonna... can't hold it... please..." he begged, his tone a desperate, pleading whine. "stroke me... jerk my fuckin' cock... make me cum, g-goddamnit..." His hips jerked spastically, the head of his cock brushing almost painfully against your cheek, smearing slick across the soft skin.

With trembling hands, you grasped his throbbing shaft, feeling it pulse and twitch in your grip. You could feel the heat radiating off it, like a live wire crackling with electricity. Thanos shuddered and let out a strangled moan as you began to stroke him, your soft hand gliding up and down his rock hard length.

Two, three, four firm pumps of your fist and he was done for. "ohfuckohfucko-oohhhh fuck..." His cock jerked and spasmed wildly in your grip before erupting, hot, thick ropes of cum painting your flushed face and gasping open mouth. Ropes of it, slick and sticky, splattering across your forehead, your cheeks, your chin, dripping down your neck and onto your tracksuit jacket.

Thanos could only stare in disbelief as his heart pounds wildly in his chest, hitting his ribs hard as a lithe tongue darting out, its pink tip peeking from between those sweet, cum-glossed lips to lap up the scintillating evidence of his pleasure.

You bring your fingers up to your face, swiping a glob of cum from your cheek to taste it, the salty, slightly nutty flavor pleasant on your tongue. Thanos felt his spent cock give a feeble twitch at the erotic juxtaposition of purity and depravity, his mind reeling at the staggering beauty of the vision before him.

The contrast of such a lewd act on such a sweet, angelic face nearly undid him all over again.

"No… way…" he breathed out, shaking his head in awe and amazement at the erotic spectacle before him. "Fuck… you're… so fuckin' cute…"

Blushing at the praise, you help him back into his pants while you clean off your face with your sleeve, taking off your jacket and tying it around your waist while he hovers over you, his mind a mess. He grabs your arm just as its time to leave, and he grabs your face in his big hands, pressing his lips firmly to yours.

You let out a shaky moan, little hands holding onto his jacket in tight fists while he slides his tongue into your mouth, moaning as he swirls his tongue around yours greedily and swallowing your taste like a man starved.

He pulls away with a soft pop, strings of saliva connecting your tongues as you look at each other with half lidded eyes. He's sure to hold your hand tightly as you unlock the door and leave the room together.