bunny-book:「GETTING THE WRONG IDEA」 Thor/Female Reader !!! NSFW !!!! SUMMARY: It’s late. You&r
bunny-book:「GETTING THE WRONG IDEA」 Thor/Female Reader !!! NSFW !!!! SUMMARY: It’s late. You’re tired. You’re stressed. You just want a drink. Most of all, you don’t feel like arguing with your otherwise favorite Avenger, Thor. Maybe you took a comment the wrong way. Maybe a little stress relief could be good for you…even if said stress relief is in Tony Stark’s bar room at two in the morning… AUTHOR’S NOTE: This is the second of two writing exercises with the lovely @nerdflash ♡ Her idea was that the reader had a disagreement/argument with Thor and it ended up getting….heated. Thank you SO much for the idea and for the absolutely incredible version you shared with me, @nerdflash! ♡ I highly recommend everyone check out her blog! Word Count: 3471 ♡ ･ﾟ: ♡ ･ﾟ: ♡ ･ﾟ: ♡ ･ﾟ: ♡ ･ﾟ: ♡ ･ﾟ: ♡ ･ﾟ: ♡ ･ﾟ: Few luxuries in life feel better than sleeping naked. Heated seats, maybe, or down comforters, or foot rubs after a long day of work. But for tonight, sleeping naked took the trophy as “most comfortable thing ever.” It had been a long past few days, as emotionally exhausting as it was physically exhausting. Your quarters in Stark Tower were warm and comforting, though, and you wore nothing at all as you stood looking out over the city and thinking about how grateful you were to be home. You were clean, you were showered, but you were stressed. You just needed some good sleep and you’d feel better, you were sure. Your head hit the pillow, you closed your eyes, and…you were suddenly aware you needed a drink. Like, really, really needed a drink. You rolled over and buried your face in the pillow, audibly groaning, but ultimately accepting you wouldn’t be satisfied until you had a stiff drink to assuage your nerves. But getting a drink meant getting up and putting on clothes and going the whole way to the common quarters. You would get up, and you would stomp to the common quarters, but putting clothes back on was a hard no. With a huff, you threw back the blankets and clambered out of bed. To avoid having to get re-dressed, you pulled on your bathrobe and belted it around your waist, not caring if it made you look like an exasperated mother of three stumbling to the fridge for a Coors Light while waiting for her husband to get home from poker night with his friends. It would do. It was late at night now and no one would be up and about to see you anyway. You’d been almost right. Almost. But almost carries no weight. When you walked into the private, unmanned bar room that Tony Stark himself loved so dearly, you fully expected to be alone. Not even Tony would be up drinking this late. Only you’d want a drink so late at night. You and Thor, apparently. The God of Thunder was standing behind the counter making himself a drink. At two in the morning. You had no room to judge, though, and just smiled when you noticed him at last. After all this time, it was still strange to see him in a t-shirt and sweatpants. Keep reading -- source link