18+ only please. not my main. this is just for posts and reblogs i deem to be 18+ or too embarrassing for main. not into “pr*shipper” junk. pfp by tahoobaccem on tiktok
“Check it, my boy!” When you look over, your mouth drops open to let out a guffaw at the sight.
“Dude. You pierced your nipples?”
Thanos preens at your baffled expression, keeping his shirt pulled up just above his pecs to show off the glimmering metal. “Yup! You like?”
You raise an eyebrow. “Don’t those hurt, like, a lot?” Jutting out his bottom lip, Thanos shakes his head.
“Not even a bit. Thanos can handle anything, bro!” Your roommate flashes a cheesy grin at you as you stand up and make your way over to stand in front of him. You inspect them a little closer, Thanos holds his shirt up a little higher. At the ends of both barbells were little glittery silver stars. You’re surprised he didn’t get them Marvel themed.
You slowly bring a hand up as he pesters you for answers once again. “Look good, yeah?” You answer with a sharp yank to one of the barbells, punching out an airy wheeze from the other man.
“Oh, sorry.” A guilty look overtakes your expression and you quickly pull your hand away from his chest. “They’re probably still pretty sensitive, huh?”
Thanos, cheeks looking a little warmer all of a sudden, nods after a moment. He looks a little dazed when he stammers out, “Uh-huh...” A few blinks later, he’s shoving his shirt back down, piercings poking obviously through the fabric. He clears his throat. “I.. I have work to do.” He’s already scrambled down the hallways before you even have a chance to reply. Weird. Just yesterday he told you he had already finished all his work for the week.
A day later, the two of you are watching some movie on the TV. Well, watching is an overstatement. You’re certainly trying your best to pay attention, but Thanos couldn’t seem to care less. With his phone on the highest volume, he scrolls through social media. He blows a blue raspberry scented cloud of smoke in your direction. At that you scowl.
“Dude, c’mon,” you wave your hand in front of your face to clear the air as you continue, “Pay attention.” Thanos responds by taking another long rip, and blowing it up at the ceiling with a hum.
Your eyes roll seemingly of their own volition. “At least pretend you’re watching the movie.” You give him a playful punch to the chest. He freezes with a gasp, head still tilted back and skin pulled taut along his neck. With a gulp, you see his adam’s apple bob.
You raise an eyebrow. “You alright?” He turns his head away, hiding his face from you. Concerned, you scoot a little closer. “What’s up?”
He slides away, stretching the hem of his hoodie down past his hips. “I’m fine, just- just back up, man.” His voice wavers. You decide it’s best to leave him alone for the time being. You slowly move farther onto your side of the couch and watch the rest of the movie in silence.
It’s been maybe a week since the weird moment the two of you had on the couch, and you still haven’t had a conversation lasting longer than two sentences. Is Thanos mad at you? He’s always getting pissed off about whatever, but you don’t even remember doing anything that could have set him off this time.
Your door opens with a slam, the culprit letting out an exasperated groan as he struts in without permission. Guess he isn’t mad enough to not intrude on your privacy. “Ugh!” He falls face up onto your bed with his eyes closed in a sour expression.
“Can’t you knock at least sometimes?”
He looks at you somewhat incredulously. “No.” He closes his eyes again and lets out another irritating groan.
You stare at him then sigh, defeated. Caving, you give him the attention he’s trying to sap from you. “What. What’s wrong with you.”
“My pecs hurt so much!!” He complains, hands running down his face.
“Yeah, it’s almost as if you put two little metal bars through one of the most sensitive parts of it. Crazy.”
He scrunches his nose at you, grousing, “Don’t sass me, boy. It’s pissing me off!”
“And you expect me to do what about it? You want me to give you a boob massage??” Despite the offer being facetious, you see his face light up.
“Would you?”
“Dude.”
“C’mon, man!”
“They can’t hurt that bad.”
His eyes widen before his hands rush down to the bottom of his shirt. “They do! Look!” Chest exposed, they do seem kind of irritated. He probably isn’t taking care of them right. Or at all.
“… Are you being serious.”
Thanos whines, “Yes!!”
Let’s consider the options here. Either you a) massage this guy’s tits, or b) tell him to get the hell out of your room. You don’t know what possesses you to huff, “Fine.”
Next thing you know, you’re straddling your roommate’s thighs because, “It’s the best position, my boy!” ..When did he get shirtless? Whatever, you’re here now.
As your hands hover over his chest, you notice his focused expression. The way his eyes watch your hands so intensely makes you a little nervous.
You hesitate. “So, like.. Do I just go for it?”
Thanos nods quickly, letting out a hum in response.
Brow slightly furrowed, you slowly let your hands rest on his chest. The hitch in his breath is almost unnoticeable. You wait a moment before kneading the flesh, which earns you a sharp moan. Your hands jolt away, worried you hurt him, but his hands fly up to grab your wrists.
“No,” he whimpers, yanking your hands back down with his tight grip.
You exhale shakily. “Didn’t think you’d be the type who enjoys being groped,” you laugh quietly in an attempt to alleviate the tension weighing down on you. Instead of laughing along, Thanos’ eyebrows curve upward and he covers his face with his arm. Huh. “Are you.. Are you actually into this?
“No-” he interrupts himself with a little choked up moan as you scoop up as much fat on his chest as possible and squeeze.
You can’t help the smirk growing on your face. You purr, “You like it when I grope your cute li’l titties, huh?” Squishing them one last time, your thumbs begin to slide up towards where the glinting jewelry catches your eye. “So perky for me, too. So well-behaved.”
As your thumbs flick over the peaks he groans, “Please.”
You’re sure the guy doesn’t even entirely know what he’s pleading for, but you indulge him anyway. “Feels too good, huh? For the way you talk yourself up, you’d think you wouldn’t be this sensitive. Just a light brush is enough to have you begging.” Your smug smile grows, thumbs rubbing slow circles around his nipples.
With a whine, his hips below you buck slightly, dick tenting hard against the fly of his jeans. “God,” he moans, head thrown back and mouth dropped open as he pants, “More.”
“So greedy.. Is that how we ask?”
He grunts, displeased, “More, please.”
You bite back a grin. “Please what?”
Biting his bottom lip, he looks away before muttering something.
“Hm? I can’t hear you.” You pull away, to which the man below you nearly mewls at as a result.
“Touch me harder already!” He gripes, “Please.”
You smile, pleased, your hands already making their way back to their places on his chest. “Very good.”
The keen that escapes his throat when your fingers close to pinch the hardened nubs is so loud you’re worried your neighbors might start banging on the walls. But looking back up at Thanos’ flushed face, his needy expression growing by the second, you find yourself not really caring if they do.
His hips continue to helplessly rock up into nothing as you tweak his nipples meanly. “Uhngh,” he slurs. Given the drool beginning to drip down the side of his mouth, you’re pretty sure he’s not gonna be able to hold on for much longer.
“So worked up.. And all over me just feeling you up? That’s dirty.” A pathetic sound slips through his lips as his breathing picks up. “You gonna cum from this? Gonna make a mess of your pants? Do it.” You tug hard on the barbells, a violent cry ripping out of his throat as he thrusts into the air.
“Fuck!-“ His back arches, you watch his cock twitch in his pants once, twice, before he falls limp back onto the bed. A damp spot begins to form in the crotch of his jeans as he heaves, trying to regain his composure.
You blink. Holy shit. “Holy shit.”
“Shut up.” He tries to cover up as much of his face as he can with his arms. “Shut the hell up.”
“I wasn’t saying anything.”
“I don’t-“ He cuts himself off with a broken whimper when you paw at his pecs once more. Swatting your hands away, he whines, “Knock it off, that hurts.”
You pull your hands back. Still seated on his thighs, you look around awkwardly. “So… Did the massage work or what?”
He flings you off of himself like a wild bull. You take it as a maybe.
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