i'm hapless, i'm hopeless.

pairing: Thor x Black Reader

summary: Thunderstorms make Thor...moody. Meg thee Stallion style. While Thor is indeed the god of thunder, thunder (in return) wields a sort of power of him. Particularly his temperament--his emotions are intensified. Be it joy, sadness, anger, or lust (your favorite), his sensitivity to that emotion is multiplied by nearby storms. All the electricity in the air...and it's the summer. Shit.

warnings: teasing, femdom, v light bondage, cheesy writing overall

rating: mature (18+) not graphic but v horny

___

You absentmindedly swipe through the apps on your home screen, trying to kill time as you wait for the elevator. Your background distracts you for a moment; a photo of Thor Odinson, previously King of Asgard and Ruler of the Nine Realms and currently your boyfriend, asleep on your couch. He's so cute, you think to yourself. A sudden ding yanks your head up. The doors open, revealing an empty car. You and someone in a worn college hoodie enter. You recognize them as your neighbor, living one level below. You exchange nonverbal hellos before resuming your separate reveries.

You unlock your screen once more, reflexively. No notifications in the last 90 seconds? Baffling. Bored, you decide to check the weather.

Cloudy, cloudy, cloudy--Jesus, what a bummer week, you think to yourself until your eyes land on Friday night. 100% chance of thunderstorms.

"Oh fuck yeah!" you say out loud. You panic as you remember your neighbor standing beside you. Thank God, headphones. Like clockwork the elevator doors open. They shoot you a tired smile before exiting.

The moment the doors close, you break into a pelvic thrust heavy celebratory dance.

...

Thunderstorms make Thor...moody. Meg thee Stallion style. While Thor is indeed the god of thunder, thunder (in return) wields a sort of power of him. Particularly his temperament--his emotions are intensified. Be it joy, sadness, anger, or lust (your favorite), his sensitivity to that emotion is multiplied by nearby storms. All the electricity in the air...and it's the summer. Shit.

If I play my cards right, this one night could lead to a three day dick down. You smirk to yourself as wicked ideas fly through your head. Oh, he's going to hate you this week.

It'll be worth it.

Teasing is one of your favorite pastimes. Thor "hates" it. You add quotes because while he gets visibly vexed once he catches on to what you're doing, he also gets tangibly turned on and encourages you to go further.

The word encourages is being polite. Begs is the exact term. An image of Thor panting flashes before your eyes.

You’re sitting poised at the end of the bed, dragging your fingers in lazy circles on the inside of his thigh. Your eyes zoom in on your favorite silk head scarf, tied in a neat bow around Thor’s wrists at the top of your metal bed frame. Of course he could free himself at any moment, but that was your favorite scarf. If he ripped it, you certainly wouldn’t be in the mood to continue, and he certainly wouldn’t survive being left hanging. Not in this position, I mean he’s completely naked.

Your eyes darted to his heaving chest. His breath was uneven. A thin sheen of sweat blanketed his muscular frame. You glanced at his face and saw more beads forming at his forehead.

“You dare treat a god this way?” He rasped.

“You don’t like how I’m touching you?” You replied with thinly veiled faux concern, withdrawing your fingers. He nearly snarled with frustration.

“You’ve had me bound to your bed for two hours and barely touched me. This is torture,” he spat out. You immediately wrapped your hand around his throbbing third leg, massaging it. The relieved moans that burst through him shocked the both of you, but you kept up your rhythm. His body collapsed into your touch; his head lolled to the side.

“I don’t want to torture you, baby. I just want to make you feel good,” you assured him. He moaned louder, and his hips began to roll with your movements. Out of the window you noticed clouds begin to loom and you grinned.

Tssst.

A tiny tearing sound wiped the smile from your face and halted your hand. Thor’s head shot up and his eyes met yours. You saw genuine fear in his eyes and knew in that moment that you truly were the baddest bitch in the nine realms.

“I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry it was only a tear it was only a tear I won’t do it again,” he said in one breath. He was nearly hyperventilating. You tore your hand off of him and he wailed.

“First you accuse me of torture then you rip my favorite scarf? What am I supposed to wear next time I don't feel like doing my hair? Clearly you're not appreciating my efforts tonight-”

“Please, please don’t stop,” he cut you off. “I beg you please, let me apologize, let me show you how much I appreciate you, please.”

The high that washed over you was almost overwhelming. Your skin was practically buzzing. You were suddenly drunk with power, and power made you greedy.

“I'm sorry, I must have misheard you. For a second, I thought I heard the god of thunder begging. What did you just say?”

He gritted his teeth for a moment, then exhaled.

“I beg you, y/n,” he whispered, eyes pleading. “Release me, and I will make it up to you right away. A thousand times over.”

Your eyes widen with excitement as you stand up to untie him. “A thousand times over? You forget I’m a mere mortal.”

The moment the fabric falls to the floor his arms snake around your waist. Thor tucks you underneath him as he spreads your legs.

“Prepare for divine intervention, my love.”

You snap out of the fond memory almost as quickly as you fell into it. You squirm in discomfort, feeling the effects of your daydreaming soak into your underwear. Thank God you made it back to your apartment before becoming a horny mess.

Thor’s apology touched you so deeply you had to call out of work the next day. And that was without a storm.

With an evil smile, you begin to plan your attack.

___