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the-bi-winter · 2 months ago

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You're Invincible

Mark Grayson "Invincible" x Male Reader

Summary: You'd been dating Mark for a while, oblivious to his hero identity. It wasn't until an intimate slip-up that the truth began to surface, and your reaction surprised him.

A/N: Gonna take a small break from requests, I'm a little burnt out trying to get to all of them so hopefully posting non-requests will do.

TW: Fluff - Soft Smut - Minors DNI - Females DNI

Mark had fully intended to tell you about his superhero identity, a secret that felt heavier with each passing day. He knew, logically, that he shouldn't be worried. Your fascination with superheroes was practically a defining characteristic, a topic that consistently lit up your eyes and fueled enthusiastic conversations. Yet, a deep-seated fear, a knot of anxiety in his stomach, refused to unravel. The thought of you being upset, hurt that he, your boyfriend, had kept such a significant part of himself hidden, gnawed at him relentlessly. He replayed countless scenarios in his head, each ending with a disappointed look or a tear he couldn't bear to see.

He had fully intended on telling you when you came over that afternoon. He’d rehearsed the words in his head, planned the moment, the setting. But all those carefully constructed plans shattered the instant you stepped into his room. The air crackled with an unspoken energy, a magnetic pull that drew you together. The moment your lips met his, a rush of pure sensation overwhelmed every rational thought, every carefully prepared confession.

His hands tangled in the soft strands of your hair, anchoring you closer, while the other hand found purchase on your hip, his fingers brushing ever so slightly beneath the hem of your shirt. The kiss was immediate and heated, a desperate melding of mouths and breaths. Your body pressed against his as you settled onto his lap, the innocent friction quickly escalating as you absent-mindedly ground against him. A low groan rumbled in his chest, vibrating against your lips as his tongue slipped into your mouth. You gasped softly, the unexpected pressure of his clothed erection against your own sending a shiver of anticipation through you.

Driven by a sudden urgency, you pulled away from the intense kiss, trailing open-mouthed kisses down the strong line of Mark's jaw, across the sensitive curve of his neck. Your hand, emboldened, slipped beneath the waistband of his jeans, your fingers splaying against the warmth of his skin. He leaned his head back against the worn headboard, his eyes half-closed, the hand that had been on your hip now resting lightly against your forearm, a silent invitation. You pulled back slightly, your fingers fumbling with the buttons of his shirt, pulling the soft cotton up and over his head. The sight of his bare chest, the way his muscles flexed subtly as he moved, sent a fresh wave of desire through you. Without hesitation, you reached for the hem of your own shirt, pulling it over your head and tossing it carelessly to the side. Mark’s eyes darkened as he pulled you back into another searing kiss, a snide remark whispered against your lips about how wonderfully impatient you were. A chuckle bubbled up from your throat, your hands now roaming freely over the smooth expanse of his exposed skin. "I know you enjoy it," you whispered back, your breath warm against his chest.

Your exploration continued, your lips leaving a trail of open-mouthed kisses over his heated skin, the soft suction leaving faint pink marks in their wake. His hands tightened in your hair, a silent language of pleasure and surrender. You slipped your hand back into the waistband of his pants, your fingers now palming the solid length of his erection through the thin fabric of his boxers. You pressed a lingering kiss to the curve of his abdomen, then sucked gently, leaving a more pronounced hickey against his toned skin. Mark’s head rolled lazily against his shoulder, a string of incoherent moans and soft curses falling from his lips, his body arching slightly against your touch. The air in the room grew thick with unspoken desires, the only sounds your mingled breaths and his escalating sounds of pleasure.

Breaking the intense connection, you slid off the bed, your knees landing softly on the floor. You looked up at Mark, your eyes locking with his, and beckoned him with a slow, deliberate gesture to scoot closer to the edge. He complied without question, his gaze never leaving yours. You positioned yourself between his legs, the proximity sending a fresh wave of heat through you. Your hands reached for the button on his jeans, your fingers brushing against the cool metal. But just as you were about to undo it, your gaze snagged on something yellow peeking out from under his bed. Your brow furrowed in confusion, your attention momentarily diverted. You cocked an eyebrow, studying the sliver of color for a fleeting moment before Mark’s eyes widened, his focus snapping to where you were looking.

Before you could fully register what it was, you reached for the mysterious object. In a move that surprised you with its speed and force, Mark nearly tumbled off the bed, scrambling to kick whatever it was further out of sight. "Mark," you whispered, your eyes narrowing with suspicion. "What are you hiding?"

He scrambled off the bed, his movements jerky and uncoordinated. As you made another attempt to reach under the bed, he lunged, his body suddenly heavy as he pinned you against the floor. The surprising strength he exerted was unlike anything you’d experienced from him before. His eyes darted nervously, confirming your suspicion that he was indeed hiding something significant. You knew, instinctively, that no amount of direct questioning would yield an answer. But the feeling of being pinned, the unusual intensity in his gaze, sparked a playful defiance within you. What started as a struggle to get free quickly morphed into a mini play wrestling match, a tangle of limbs and muffled laughter as you tried to maneuver yourself out from under him.

With a well-timed shift of your weight, you caught him off guard just long enough to snake your arm out and finally grab the object hidden beneath his bed. The feel of unfamiliar, slightly stiff fabric filled your hands. Mark looked down at you, straddling your waist, his expression a mixture of panic and resignation. He fumbled for words, starting with a weak, "It's...it's William's," before quickly changing tack. "Yeah, it's just a...a fun costume I picked up." You sat up, the strange garment clutched in your hands, staring at it intently. The distinct design, the familiar color scheme…you held it up towards Mark, your mind racing, trying to piece together the impossible. You tried to picture him in it, the fabric stretched across his familiar frame.

A disbelieving chuckle escaped your lips, growing into full-blown laughter. "You're…you're Invincible," you whispered, the realization hitting you with the force of a revelation. His face dropped, bracing for the fallout. He expected accusations, anger, perhaps even tears. He was ready for the barrage of questions, the hurt in your eyes, the possibility of you walking out. But it never came. His tense muscles slowly began to relax as your laughter continued, the sound genuine and unrestrained. "You're…you're not mad?" he questioned, his voice laced with disbelief. You shook your head, still chuckling, and moved to sit back against his bed, tossing the familiar yellow and blue suit towards him. A wide smile stretched across your face. "I wish you had told me sooner," you admitted, "but at the same time…I kind of understand why you didn't." Mark’s own lips curved into a relieved smile as he took a seat beside you. "I was so nervous," he confessed, "even though I knew how much you loved superheroes, it felt different…because it was me." You reached out and took his hand, squeezing it gently. "It doesn't matter," you said softly, "but I'm not going to promise I won't worry about you." Mark chuckled, a low, rumbling sound. "That comes with the territory," he agreed, his eyes filled with affection.

A playful smirk tugged at the corner of your lips. You shifted, straddling his lap once more, your hands resting on his shoulders. You leaned in, pecking his lips lightly before licking the shell of his ear, your breath warm against his skin. "And now that I know about your…extracurricular activities," you whispered, your voice a husky purr, "I expect you to use a bit of that surprising strength in bed from now on." You bit your lip, feeling the immediate response as his clothed erection twitched against your own. His eyes darkened, a familiar heat returning to his gaze, before he pulled you into a deep and heated kiss, the weight of his secret finally lifted between you.

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the-bi-winter · 2 months ago

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Limits

Mark Grayson "Invincible" x Male Reader

Summary: A battle against a powerful adversary pushed your abilities beyond their limit, culminating in a devastating supernova that consumed you and everything in its path.

A/N: Reader has energy manipulation/projection, which in this case if you produce to much your body basically let's off the equivalent of a supernova blast (^44 Joules, or roughly 10^28 megatons of TNT). Close to 2.6k words

TW: Angst - Blood - Gore - Hurt - Comfort

The emerald tapestry of the countryside had been brutally torn asunder, replaced by a scarred landscape of raw earth and splintered timber. Craters, gaping maws in the once-fertile ground, marked the violent finales of your earth-shattering impacts. Trees, ancient sentinels of the land, lay cleaved in two, their fallen forms tracing the chaotic ballet of destruction where you and your alien adversary had traded blows with the force of small explosions. The very air seemed to hum with the residual energy of your brutal exchange.

Each clash had ripped through the idyllic scenery, gouging furrows in fields, shattering rock formations, and sending shockwaves that uprooted everything in their path. What had been a peaceful vista of rolling hills and whispering forests was now a testament to the ferocity of your struggle, a brutal masterpiece of devastation painted in shades of churned soil and broken green.

A tremor ran through your battered frame, a physical manifestation of the agony that bloomed across your skin. Deep purple bruises, like angry constellations, spread across your flesh, a stark contrast to the crimson seeping through the rents in your once-sleek suit. Jagged lacerations crisscrossed your body, each throb a fresh reminder of the enemy’s relentless assault. The protective goggles, your shield and anonymity, were gone, lost somewhere in the ravaged landscape. One eye was swollen shut, the lashes glued together by dried blood that had trickled from a gash marring your forehead.

Your fingers and arm jutted out at grotesque angles, stark white bone peeking through torn flesh. The unnatural bends left you agonizingly vulnerable, your already limited mobility reduced to the clumsy movements of a single, barely functioning limb. Yet, even as your physical form protested with every strained breath, the raw energy you had instinctively drawn from the environment, amplified by the brutal force of each impact against your body, continued to surge within you. It built, a volatile tide threatening to breach the dam of your tolerance, pushing past the established limits of your energy manipulation, a desperate gamble to keep your ravaged body functioning just long enough to end this.

Your vision swam in a hazy red film, each shallow breath a searing pain that confirmed the certainty of broken ribs. Blood welled in your mouth, a coppery taste that mingled with the grit of the ravaged earth, and trickled down your chin in thick, viscous drops. Despite the symphony of agony echoing through your bones, despite the mangled limbs and the gaping wounds, a primal refusal burned within you. You would not yield. You would not grant this alien the satisfaction of your broken form.

“You’re stronger than I thought,” the alien’s voice cut through the haze, a chillingly detached observation devoid of any genuine emotion.

A ragged breath escaped your lips, your remaining hand flickering with a faint yellow glow as you desperately focused a burst of energy at your palm. “I guess that’s what you aliens don’t understand,” you gurgled, the words thick with blood. “It ain’t over… till I say it’s over.”

A guttural scream tore from your throat, your glowing hand lashing out just as the alien lunged. His hands clamped onto your shoulders, a vise-like grip as you both plummeted through the air once more. The raw energy pulse you unleashed ripped through his alien flesh, a searing wave of force that tore through muscle and bone, just as your broken bodies slammed against the ravaged earth.

His alien eyes widened in shock, staring down at your seemingly lifeless form as a pulsing yellow glow began to emanate from your chest. “You fool!” he spat, a flicker of something akin to fear finally crossing his features.

Your body, pushed beyond its breaking point, had greedily absorbed too much ambient energy, transforming you into a volatile, ticking time bomb. You had known the potential outcome, the catastrophic cost of such extreme exertion, yet you had embraced it, a desperate gamble born from the primal instinct to survive, to end the threat.

With a final surge of adrenaline, your hand shot up, fingers locking around his throat as an inferno ignited within your chest. “Ever wondered what a supernova felt like?” you whispered, your voice a raspy caress against his alien skin.

Your body arched violently off the ground, a chorus of cracking bones accompanying the blinding light that erupted from your chest. Flesh seared and melted, consuming the alien that clung to you, his horrified scream swallowed by the incandescent bloom.

The expanding wave of raw energy, born from your self-immolation, surged outwards, a phantom sun rising from the ruined countryside. It reached the edges of the distant city, engulfing its skyline in an ethereal, pulsating glow. Buildings were bathed in an otherworldly luminescence, their stark silhouettes softened by the radiant aura. Then came the shockwave, a physical manifestation of your final act, a concussive force that rattled foundations and shattered glass into glittering rain. The ethereal glow intensified, reaching its zenith before abruptly collapsing inward, the immense energy retreating back into your ravaged form, culminating in a silent, internal combustion that left a void where life had once flickered.

News of the unprecedented event rippled through the global networks, images of the devastated countryside and the strange energy surge over the city flashing across countless screens. At the Global Defense Agency headquarters, the chaotic reports blared across monitors, catching Mark’s attention amidst the usual stream of crises and alerts. He barely had time to register the unbelievable scale of the destruction, the impossible energy signature, before the very foundations of the GDA building shuddered violently. The shockwave, even at that distance, was palpable, a brutal reminder of the raw power unleashed. Without a word, his mind a whirlwind of terrifying possibilities, Mark shot out of his chair and sprinted towards the transport bay, the image of you seared into his thoughts.

Your body lay still, a broken doll amidst the devastation you had wrought. The cold air, sharp and biting, kissed the raw, open wounds and the angry red burns that patterned your now-naked flesh. Your heart, a fragile drum against the silence, beat weakly, a thready pulse struggling to maintain its rhythm, to cling to the fading embers of life. The blast had carved a deep crater beneath you, a stark monument to your sacrifice, utterly desecrating everything within a two-hundred-mile radius.

Your mind was a blank canvas, a numb embrace that offered a tempting oblivion. You were willing to surrender to the comforting darkness until a faint, almost imperceptible whisper brushed against your consciousness, calling your name. Your eye fluttered open, a sluggish movement that revealed a world blurred and indistinct. Your mouth twitched, a silent attempt to respond, but only a weak cough escaped, followed by a trickle of blood.

Through the hazy veil of your vision, a faint blur coalesced above you, the familiar, hated colors of that suit. Mark. His voice, barely audible above the ringing in your ears, repeated your name, a desperate plea carried on the wind.

Mark knelt beside you, his movements jerky and uncoordinated, as if his own body was struggling to comprehend the scene before him. Shaky hands, trembling with a mixture of disbelief and terror, came up to cup your face, his touch feather-light, as if afraid you would shatter. His eyes, wide and frantic, scanned your ravaged form, cataloging every horrific detail: the angry red burns that marred your skin, the unnatural angles of your mangled limbs, the jagged edges of the lacerations. And then his gaze fell upon the mark on your chest, an intricate spiderweb of pure, pulsing energy that seemed to have latched onto your heart, a macabre reminder of the supernova’s destructive power. A weak breath escaped your lips, your uninjured arm reaching out, a desperate plea for connection. Mark’s hand shot out, engulfing yours, pressing it tightly against his chest, as if trying to transfer his own life force into you. “Don’t move,” he whispered, his voice thick with unshed tears, a raw, broken sound.

“Cecil!” Mark’s voice cracked, the desperate cry tearing through the stillness of the devastated landscape. You turned your gaze towards him, a gurgling sound escaping your blood-filled mouth. “I… don’t… want… to die,” you murmured, the words a fragile whisper carried on a ragged breath. Mark’s heart shattered at your plea, tears finally welling in his eyes, blurring his already distorted vision. He leaned down, pressing his forehead against yours, his hands trembling violently as he held you close. “Don’t… don’t say that,” he choked out, his voice thick with sobs. “You won’t die. I promise.”

Deep down, a cold certainty settled within you. His words were hollow, a desperate denial of the inevitable. “I’m… sorry,” you gasped, your body going limp in his arms, the fragile spark of life within you flickering precariously.

A strangled cry tore from Mark’s throat, his head pressing against your still chest, as if by sheer force of will he could reignite the fading embers of your life. “Cecil!” he shouted again, the name a raw, desperate plea echoing across the desolate landscape, even though a part of him knew there was little Cecil or the GDA could possibly do now.

The arrival of the GDA was a blur of flashing lights and hushed voices. They moved with practiced efficiency, their faces grim as they carefully transferred your broken body onto a stretcher. Mark watched, numb and unmoving, as they carried you away, the sight a fresh wound to his already ravaged soul. Cecil stood beside him, his expression unreadable, watching the scene unfold with his usual quiet intensity. “We’ll fix him,” he murmured, his voice low and devoid of emotion. “We always do.” He turned, a brief, impersonal pat on Mark’s shoulder before he too walked away, leaving Mark alone amidst the devastation.

The GDA worked tirelessly, a silent army of medics and scientists battling against the odds. They mended shattered bones, stitched gaping wounds, and desperately attempted to coax your heart back into a steady rhythm. Days bled into nights as they fought for every flicker of life, their efforts finally rewarded with a weak, thready beat. Your body slowly began to heal, a testament to your resilience, but the scars remained, a stark roadmap of the unimaginable power you had unleashed and the devastating cost it had exacted. The healing process was agonizing, a relentless cycle of pain and discomfort that kept the GDA medical team on edge and haunted Mark’s restless nights. Cecil, with his usual detached pragmatism, had barred Mark from seeing you, a cruel mercy perhaps, until the “bloody mess” you had been transformed back into something resembling the person he knew.

The moment Mark was finally allowed to see you, he was a ghost haunting the sterile halls of the GDA medical wing. He came nearly every night, a silent vigil beside your still form. You were more than just a friend, more than someone he had grown up with, more than the reckless hero StarBoy who seemed incapable of self-preservation. You were someone special, someone who had shown him the quiet beauty in the mundane, the immeasurable value of the bonds he shared with his chosen family. You were a silent counterpoint to his father’s cold ambition, a living embodiment of the empathy and connection he desperately craved. He loved you for that, a quiet, unspoken affection that had taken root and blossomed amidst the chaos of his life. He had been too caught up in his own turmoil to voice it, afraid of disrupting the delicate balance of your friendship. But seeing you broken, hearing your whispered plea not to die, had shattered his carefully constructed walls. Now, all he prayed for was your return, a chance to finally bridge the unspoken space between you.

It was late, the sterile silence of the GDA halls broken only by the soft hum of life support machines. Mark had slipped in again, a familiar ritual that Cecil seemed to tacitly condone, a silent acknowledgment of the depth of Mark’s unspoken feelings. The doors to your private room slid open with a soft hiss, the rhythmic beeping of the monitors a bittersweet symphony in Mark’s ears. He pulled a chair close to your bedside, his gaze fixed on your still form, a silent vigil of hope and fear. He hadn't noticed your eyes were open, watching his every move with a quiet intensity. A weak hand, pale and still bearing the marks of your ordeal, emerged from beneath the crisp white sheets, lazily grasping at the fabric of Mark’s sweater as he sat down. He let out a startled gasp, his eyes widening in disbelief as he met your gaze. “What’s wrong, Grayson?” you croaked, your voice raspy and weak. “Looks like you’ve seen a ghost.” A faint, weary smile touched your lips as you licked your chapped lips.

Mark shot up, his hands instinctively reaching out to cup your face, his touch gentle, reverent. He wasn't thinking, his mind a whirlwind of relief and disbelief at your awakening. He hadn’t considered your potential reaction, lost in the overwhelming joy of your return. His lips met yours in a slow, hesitant kiss, a silent outpouring of emotions he had never dared to voice. Your eyes fluttered closed, your own hand rising weakly to hold his against your cheek as you kissed back, a fragile affirmation of his unspoken feelings. His tongue tentatively pushed past your lips, a soft gasp escaping you at the unexpected intimacy. Mark pulled back, his eyes wide with panic, a rush of apologies forming on his lips. But you lay there, a small, genuine smile playing on your lips. You didn't release his hands, keeping his warmth pressed against your skin. You looked up at him, your voice barely a whisper. “About time you kissed me, Grayson.”

A blush crept up Mark’s neck, painting his cheeks a soft pink. He moved to sit on the edge of the bed, his thumbs gently brushing against your cheekbones, his gaze tender and unwavering. He didn't speak, his answer a soft, lingering kiss that deepened with unspoken longing. Your lips moved in sync, a silent dance of shared desire, as if both of you had been waiting an eternity for this connection. Mark pulled away slightly, his breath warm against your lips, his nose brushing against yours in a tender caress. “I love you,” he whispered, his voice surprisingly steady, a declaration that had been brewing beneath the surface for too long. A ragged breath escaped your lips, your heart monitor spiking with a sudden surge of adrenaline at his words. “I love you too, Mark.”

Your lips met again, a deeper, more fervent kiss that spoke volumes of unspoken emotions. Mark’s fingers tangled in your hair, a gentle caress against your scalp, while your hands clutched at his sweater, holding him close as if afraid he might disappear. He broke the kiss, trailing soft, lingering kisses down your bare chest, his lips careful to avoid the tangle of wires and medical devices still attached to you. His lips brushed against the raised, angry scar on your chest, a permanent reminder of the devastating power you had unleashed. “Don’t ever do something stupid like that again,” Mark whispered, his voice thick with emotion. His lips trailed back up to yours, a soft peck before he wrapped his arms around you, holding you close against his chest. “No promises,” you whispered back, a shiver running through you at the warmth enveloping your fragile body.

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the-bi-winter · 5 months ago

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Seiko ayase PinUp ^^ Consider Supporting me for EXCLUSIVE content ^^ PATREON MY DIGITAL STORE STICKERS STICKERS #2

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the-bi-winter · 5 months ago

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Dorothea by Raichiyo@Raichiyo33

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the-bi-winter · 5 months ago

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the-bi-winter · 6 months ago

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Maybe (In another life)

pairing: damon salvatore x M!Reader

summary: you wake up feeling disoriented and complicated, but Damon convinces you to stay and spend the morning together.

a/n: request are closed!

The morning sun peeked through the drawn curtains, casting a warm golden hue across the room. You stirred awake, disoriented for a moment by the memories of the previous night — the electric connection between you and Damon, the intoxicating kiss, the uninhibited passion. You glanced around the room, taking in the aftermath of your night together.

Damon lay beside you, his shirtless form a tantalizing sight. His dark hair fell carelessly over his forehead, and the soft rise and fall of his chest was mesmerizing. As your mind replayed the night, your heart raced. You knew you shouldn't linger, not when the memories carried the weight of your complicated feelings.

Quietly, you slipped out from under the sheets, careful not to wake him. But just as you began to gather your clothes, a hand grasped your wrist.

"Where do you think you're going?" Damon's voice was low and husky, still heavy with sleep. You turned to face him, half-embarrassed, half-caught.

"I, um... I should go," you stammered, avoiding his piercing gaze.

He sat up slightly, the sheets pooling around his waist, revealing the sculpted lines of his body. "Stay," he said simply, his dark eyes locking onto yours, intense as always.

You hesitated, glancing back toward the door. "Damon... last night was—"

"Magical?" he suggested with a smirk, his lips curling slightly, teasing. “Come on, don’t act like you didn’t enjoy it.”

"That’s not what I meant," you replied, a blush creeping up your cheeks as you thought about the intimacy you both shared. “It’s complicated.”

Damon pulled you closer, his grip firm yet gentle, and you felt your resolve begin to waver. “Complicated?” he echoed, brushing his finger along your jawline. “The only thing complicated here is this ridiculous need for you to leave. You spent the night with me, and I want you here. Just for today.”

His gaze softened, and you found yourself lost in those deep, expressive eyes. “What happens between us doesn’t have to be a burden. Just... let’s have this morning together. Just us."

You breathed in deeply, his earnestness disarming. “I—”

Before you could finish, he leaned in, capturing your lips with his. The kiss was soft, languid, and full of the heat you both shared the night before. He wrapped his arms around you, pulling you back against his chest, the warmth of his skin igniting something inside you.

“See? Much better when you give in,” he murmured against your neck, the lightest kiss causing shivers to race down your spine.

You let out a reluctant laugh, the tension easing as he held you against him. “You’re impossible,” you said, feeling the weight of your decision slip away.

“Impossibly charming, you mean,” he corrected, his voice a low purr that sent butterflies fluttering in your stomach. "Now come back to bed. No arguments."

With a playful roll of your eyes, you allowed him to pull you back down under the covers, the warmth of his body enveloping you completely. You sighed contentedly, knowing the world outside could wait for a little while longer.

“Okay, just for a little while,” you finally agreed, allowing yourself to sink into the moment. Damon smiled, a victorious grin that sent a rush of affection through you.

“Good choice,” he said, pressing a soft kiss on your shoulder.

And as you lay there, wrapped up in his arms, you realized that maybe, just maybe, complications could be worth embracing.

Taglist ~ @boypied @davrosfan23 @cronasluvr @reveryfics @supercap2319 @loverclear @gayaristocrat

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the-bi-winter · 6 months ago

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Dumb and Poetic

pairing: Thor Odinson x M!Reader

summary: Thor showcases his Muscles, teasing and engaging with you in a flirtatious manner. His physical presence is described with admiration, emphasizing his confidence and strength.

a/n: request are closed!

Thor knelt before you, the way he moved exuded a natural grace mixed with raw power. His broad shoulders and impeccable physique were prominent as he made his way down, his hands resting on your hips for support. There was an intensity in his gaze, reminding you just how much he enjoyed this type of playful banter.

As he slowly teased the waistband of your pants, you could feel the heat building between you two. “You’re in for a treat,” he murmured, glancing up at you, his golden hair framing his face in an almost ethereal way.

With a playful flick of his tongue, he grazed your skin, joyfully surprising you. “Hold on to something!” Thor winked and, with that, he lowered his head, taking you into his mouth with surprising eagerness. The warmth of his mouth sent a jolt of pleasure through you, and the contrast of his strong muscles and his sensuality was intoxicating.

You gasped, the sensation overwhelming and electric. “Thor, you—”

He simply grinned around you, sending waves of pleasure as he expertly began to work his mouth, moving with a rhythm that felt both indulgent and thrilling. His hands gripped your thighs, firm like the grip of a warrior holding onto his blade, keeping you steady as he pushed deeper. The way he took his time, exploring and enjoying the moment, only heightened the connection you shared.

“Feel those muscles?” he asked, between movements, his voice thick and sultry. “I’ve got plenty of strength to make this good for you.”

You couldn’t help but chuckle breathlessly, a mix of admiration and enjoyment swirling within you. your hands instinctively threaded into his hair, guiding him while gently pulling.

The moment turned into a beautiful chaos of sensations, the passion fuelling your connection. He obliged as you pulled his hair lightly, encouraging him a little deeper, his response being a muffled grunt from him that sent vibrations all around you.

As Thor continued, he looked up at you with those striking blue eyes, giving you a moment of eye contact that felt deep and intimate, almost transcending the physical. You could see the delight in his expression, making it clear just how much he enjoyed this playful exchange.

“Just like this?” he asked, with a cheeky twist of his lips, clearly loving every moment.

“Exactly like that,” you breathed, fully lost in the wave of pleasure he was providing.

As Thor continued, the heat between you two intensified, each movement sending shivers of pleasure coursing through your body. He expertly varied his pace, sometimes teasingly slow, other times speeding up with a fervor that left you gasping. Each touch, each flick of his tongue, heightened the anticipation that built deep within you.

“Thor…” you managed to gasp, your voice strained with a mixture of pleasure and urgency. You could feel yourself approaching that precipice, the all-consuming wave of pleasure beckoning you forward.

With his strong hands gripping your thighs, he held you steady, immersing you completely in the moment. His blue eyes sparkled with mischief and determination, as if he reveled in every reaction he caused. The sensation was overwhelming; it was both intimate and electrifying, a perfect blend of playfulness and raw desire.

The combination of his strength, his focus, and his devotion to your pleasure sent you spiraling into a state of bliss. You could sense the tension building, an explosive pressure mounting within you, ready to release at any moment.

“Thor! I’m—” you gasped, feeling that rush of energy coursing through your veins, tightening every muscle in your body.

A powerful wave of pleasure crashed over you, overwhelming your senses. “Thor!” you shouted, unable to hold back as you reached your climax. It was dizzying and all-consuming, a beautiful explosion that left you breathless, waves of bliss rolling through you.

You felt Thor’s eager and warm mouth surrounding you, his hands gripping you tightly, encouraging you to lean into the sensations as he swallowed every wave of pleasure you offered, his eyes widening in satisfaction at the results of his efforts. There was a sense of triumph in his gaze that made the moment even more intimate.

You were lost in the moment, the fire in your veins slowly cooling into a soft warmth as you came down from your high, the connection between you stronger than ever.

As you caught your breath, Thor pulled away, wearing a triumphant smile that radiated confidence. “Not bad for a god, huh?” he teased, wiping his mouth playfully with the back of his hand.

You couldn’t help but laugh, feeling completely at ease.

Thor leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to your lips, a sweet conclusion to an electrifying moment.

Taglist ~ @boypied @davrosfan23 @cronasluvr @reveryfics @gayaristocrat @magicstarbits @dangerousstrawberryshark @loverclear

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