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huihuiheart · 3 years

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Royal Flush - Seventeen - Series Intro

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Seventeen Masterlist

Royal Flush Masterlist

Note: This will be an interactive story, so the speed at which pieces after the prologue come out will depend on responses to the cliffhanger at the end of each section. So remember to interact!

Pairing: Female Reader x Seventeen

Genre: Angst, Fluff, Smut(in nsfw version)

Summary: Your father’s deteriorating health has been a concern for sometime, but with the latest turn it forces action upon you. It’s up to you to prepare yourself and your kingdom for your father’s inevitable death. His wish for you to wed someone worthy of leading the kingdom along with you before he goes. He’s not leaving you entirely on your own in that regard though, he suggest you both request the presence of the princes of Taerean, sister kingdom of your own. Any of whom are not betrothed to come and see if there’s a suitor fit for you and your kingdom of Ecairia. Only perhaps too many of them are fit for that position.

Profiles of the Princes of Taerean below:

Seungcheol

Known As: Crown Prince Seungcheol

Age: 25

Most Known Personality Traits: Calm, leadership traits, he’s often the one taking charge. Yet, he’s open to suggestion and often thinks about what everyone said before acting. Known to be very trustworthy and loyal, considered to be just.

Normal Behavior: Found walking outdoors often or sparring as a way of clearing his head. He also looks into things so it’s not uncommon to stumble across him in the library looking over information or discussing with people.

Known For: Being one that people can bring their troubles to without worry. He will resolve any issues in a quick yet reasonable manner.

Jeonghan

Known As: Prince of Seduction

Age: 25

Most Known Personality Traits: FLIRT! He’s even subconsciously a flirt. He means well, even in breaking hearts not a soul can hate him. He’s a little devious, but with a kind soul and as he never means any harm no one can ever fault him.

Normal Behavior: Taking his time, not that he’s picky about things being perfect, though he is a tad of a perfectionist. He just doesn’t like to rush things, but instead take his time and appreciate them. Often appreciating the arts or sipping tea.

Known For: Being immaculately dressed at all times, flawless hair that he likes growing out. He’s often surrounded by others, especially those attracted to him both men and women alike.

Joshua

Known As: The Peacekeeper

Age: 25

Most Known Personality Traits: Quieter in the group, listening to be able to help resolve things. He’s calm, not quick to anger and not for violence. A negotiator by nature. He’s gentle as well, and always learning.

Normal Behavior: When not helping resolve situations he’s likely either in the library or learning things out in nature. He tends to some plants and has an interest in my academic ventures.

Known For: Having good balance, he can reasonably see both sides to everything. One minor example being how he knows to balance between learning through books and through life experience.

Junhui

Known As: Prince of the Night

Age: 24

Most Known Personality Traits: Known to be both quiet and outgoing. He’ll be quiet when needed, but he loves going out and being boisterous and partying all through the night. People in the kingdom are used to seeing him for any and all night festivities, making him well liked by many.

Normal Behavior: A playful observer. He will pop up random places, but likes to determine a person’s nature before interacting. If he determines that he likes you, he’ll instantly start showing up and will be like your friend.

Known For: Dragging the other princes into situations that while not inheritably bad are trouble. Another who is a bit seductive, when he’s in the setting for it. Never seems to tire out when he’s dancing through the night with others.

Soonyoung

Known As: The Tiger Prince

Age: 24

Most Known Personality Traits: He’s somewhat territorial, or at the very least very defensive. He can get worked up a tad easily, so sometimes the others have to calm him down. He’s quicker to act. His heart is always in the right place, he just often lets whatever emotions are at the forefront guide his actions.

Normal Behavior: Often sparring or with the soldiers, it’s as familiar to him as the other princes and home is. Standing up for whatever he believes to be right, and will do so loudly and unwavering.

Known For: He’s the one who will lead armies for his kingdom. The people view him as protection, safety from others and for justice. While he can be a bit hot tempered, the people never fear him.

Wonwoo

Known As: The Poet

Age: 24

Most Known Personality Traits: Reserved around those he’s not more familiar with, and even still compared to many of the others he could be seen as reserved. He has more of a teaching personality, people often come to him for help and knowledge. He’s a gentle soul.

Normal Behavior: If not in the library where he spends most of his time, you might find him speaking with any musicians at the castle. Or joining one of the others for a calming activity. His retreat however is in the garden under his favorite oak tree with his journal.

Known For: Being a free spirit without ever having to leave. He lets himself have a sort of freedom despite never running away, and he helps others find it too. Not that he would stop anyone from exploring for freedom, but that’s not the kind of freedom he enjoys.

Jihoon

Known As: The Cold Prince

Age: 24

Most Known Personality Traits: Intimidating and sometimes off putting at first. Doesn’t intentionally try to scare people (usually), in fact he doesn’t even realize it most of the time. Resting bitch face, but once you get to know him he’s not so scary. Though can be protective, so he’s not one to piss off.

Normal Behavior: Drinking a coffee while catching up on politics to help Seungcheol with running things. When he needs to relax he’ll often practice with his instruments or check in on the others as a break. Often checking in on or joining Soonyoung or Seungcheol, but occasionally the others as well.

Known For: Being Seungcheol’s right hand when it comes to kingdom rulings. Having a shielded soft spot, despite having a cold exterior. Being overlooked or underestimated by many of the people.

Seokmin

Known As: Prince of the Day

Age: 24

Most Known Personality Traits: Almost always an infectious kind of bubbly. Will befriend anyone in an instant, but is a tad too trusting. He’s not clueless, but he is a bit naive. He looks for the good in everyone and refused to see anything negative which can lead to him getting hurt. He never lets that stop him though, he’s always a ray of sunshine wherever he is.

Normal Behavior: While Junhui is more interested in the nightlife of the kingdom, Seokmin is more interested in the daily happenings in the kingdom. It’s not uncommon for him to go out and see what’s happening in the kingdom on any given day and will sort his schedules around day festivals to ensure he can go have fun.

Known For: Being giving, both in positive energy and material things. While exploring town it’s not unlikely he’ll be seen giving food to the needy or helping out in other ways. Just wants to make everyone smile on any given day.

Mingyu

Known As: Prince Charming

Age: 24

Most Known Personality Traits: A good speaker and people person. He’s able to charm just about anyone even if it’s not in a romantic way. Besides Joshua he’s another one who will negotiate, but he’s also willing to fight. He’s often negotiating trade agreements or the like instead of potentially violent disputes however.

Normal Behavior: He likes going for rides or checking out the ports. He’s a free spirit, who enjoys learning from others what he hasn’t yet had an opportunity to experience himself. He travels, but never just up and leaves without advance warning, he will drop it if anything comes up however.

Known For: Securing even seemingly unlikely trade agreements, especially when the people are in need. He’s a people person, so when talking to everyone he treats them respectfully and encourages them to follow whatever path their heart tells them.

Minghao

Known As: The Troublemaker

Age: 23

Most Known Personality Traits: Mischievous and somewhat devious, but in a playful way and not in a harsh way. While he is one who loves mischief his intent is never to harm. He seems to almost become a different person is someone is harmed, his knee jerk reaction being to help. Though he can be quite fierce and will not hesitate to protect people.

Normal Behavior: Likes to pair up with Junhui, so he can carry out his antics under the cloak of night. Will play innocent, even if everyone knows it was him. Somehow very very rarely gets into trouble for whatever he stirs up.

Known For: Being well liked among the teenagers throughout the kingdom (they think he’s cool), and somewhat of a bad influence on them. It’s all in good fun though. He often cleans up his own messes, even if it was silently or anonymously.

Seungkwan

Known As: The Judge

Age: 23

Most Known Personality Traits: He can be blunt and almost intimidating in the sense that he doesn’t sugar coat things. While he doesn’t hold any punches (and is a bit picky) he’s fair though. Hence why he’s a good judge. He’s good at balancing the information/logic side of things and the emotional side of things to ensure that things work out the best way possible. Except in situations he’s personally involved in, then throw all logic out the window.

Normal Behavior: He’s known to seek out groups and attention, it helps him get information from everyone about everything. He might be slightly conceited as well, but he has some good intentions in surrounding himself with people seeking his approval.

Known For: Being in the center of gossip circles and cliques everywhere. Not snobby though, he uses it to his advantage instead. Blunt, loud, and to your face though. You know where you stand with him at all times, just like everyone else.

Hansol

Known As: The Interpreter

Age: 23

Most Known Personality Traits: He’s relatively calm and reasonable. He’s not picky about tasks that need to be done and is reliable, so if people ask something of him they can consider it as good as done. He’s reasonable with others as well, though he need to work on that some towards himself.

Normal Behavior: His favorite spot is on the roof or a balcony where he can appreciate the breeze, but otherwise you can find him anywhere doing just about anything. He has a knack for languages though and will often study up on them.

Known For: While his nickname refers to his being able to interpret between languages, he’s also known to be able to interpret emotions as well. When people are too emotional to express themselves properly he’ll step in and help. Or when delivering messages between two emotional parties he will present them in a reasonable manner.

Chan

Known As: The Young Prince/ The Baby Prince

Age: 22

Most Known Personality Traits: He’s honestly known to be quite a reasonable mix of the others, always being around them. Probably most like Hansol in that he’s a good balance and doesn’t mind doing just about anything that needs to be done. Usually though, he’s allowed to do as he pleases as the others usually have things under control.

Normal Behavior: Around Seungcheol and Soonyoung a lot to learn from them, or with Jihoon who will also teach him but is more protective in all honesty. It’s actually quite rare to see him alone instead of with one of the others.

Known For: Being a rather kind hearted and bright person, he’s the youngest so he’s one of the most carefree of the bunch. He’s known to have grown quite a bit though and become quite loved by the people, and quite popular among suitors.

Prologue Coming: Dec 31st

Until them let me know which prince appeals to you the most based solely on this.

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miekasa · 3 years

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mie!! since u write such beautiful gorgeous astounding breathtaking life-changing tearjerking fics, do YOU have any good fic recs that you personally love 🤔

I do! I have a whole blog of wonderful fics I’ve read (tho I desperately need to update it/reblog the ones in my drafts and tag them) @ackermeun for more if you want because there are many lovely, talented writers; but I’ll list a few of my faves for Levi and Eren below 😌😌

Levi

kiss me more by @vennilavee

Now, I could recommend you anything and everything by Saran and I have no doubt that you would love all of it. There’s not a single thing in her masterlist that I dislike, she even made me okay with the idea of pegging Levi bye. The entire tbah universe (specifically parental moments one) has a special place in my heart, but recently the perpendicular world has been on my mind, and might be coming for number one. Either way, you’re gonna love it. She writes Levi in his slightly bitchy, kinda needy, implicitly affectionate, true to nature form, and I am so grateful for it. Also, Saran is a comedian.

silver soul by @oi-levi (now posting from @bibblelevi)

I suck at keeping up with series, and, so, naturally, I’m terribly behind on this one, but I’m gonna go ahead and rec the whole thing to you anyway, because I have no doubt that the other chapters are just as great the two I’ve read so far. The way she writes Levi... when I tell you I could wrap myself up in a blanket and binge this whole series, and her entire masterlist, and be very content I mean it; her writing feels warm, that’s the only way I can explain it.

the art of tea composition by @karikarasuno

I don’t remember how or when I found this fic exactly, probably just scrolling through the tag, but I love it. Domestic fluff with Levi, allowing me to pretend I’m a morning person, and just the right kind of smut to go with it. Simple and very, very effective. I’ve reread it a few times by now, no shame.

where you’re meant to be by @deludedimagines

After you read this, I also suggest just going after the whole masterlist. I cannot express how grateful I am to have found this blog PLEASE. Her characterization of Levi is perfect, and something about her prose feels very clean and simple, but elevated and layered at the same time. This one-shot in particular is one of my favorite canonverse pieces, I’m a sucker for a classic injured lover trope.

the ones who matter most by @deludedimagines

Yeah... this shouldn’t be a surprise. Fantastic writing, fluff in canonverse has a special place in my heart because I think it can be really hard to pull off well; it’s difficult to balance a sense of softness within the aot universe for the obvious reasons, and getting Levi’s caring nature right can be (unfortunately) so hard to find. Good thing people like Sorcha are here. Enjoy more fluff. Also this fic is particularly fantastic to me not just because of the injured lover trope, but because the 104th babies pay a visit and you all know how much I love a good glimpse of reluctant adoptive dad Levi hehe

bullet by @jean-does-not-have-a-horseface

If you can’t tell by now, I love canonverse fluff, tho this fic isn’t fluff in the traditional sense, but I think that makes it all the much better. Perfect depiction of real life shit that would go down in the aot world paired with Levi’s need to protect his s/o. It’s fantastic.

the knife by @therealvalkyrie

I didn’t mean to turn this into Mie’s Favorite Canon Fics Showcase, but here we are anyway. As much as I love a good injured lover trope (and this does have that hehe), I love a good kickass reader insert, too. Shoutout to Valkyrie for included both in this fic, and Levi being proud of his s/o... well you can imagine how much I liked that bye

dante’s inferno by @alrightberries

College au + roommates au with Levi... that should be enough for you to read this lmfao, no but actually it’s adorable. Not to mention friends to lovers... if you know me you know how I feel about that, I’ll gobble up every f2l fic until I’m dead and gone. Not to mention there’s a cat and Levi won’t admit he likes it, or he’s jealous of it. Simply cannot go wrong here.

waves know shores by @onwiings

Bro I don’t even like the idea of public sex and I’m not even a fan of water like that but this fic has me wrapped around it’s pinky lmfaoooo. Some of the best Levi smut I’ve read and you already know how I feel when Levi and reader have cute interactions with the 104th in fics. Really it’s checking every item on my list.

Eren

speed racer by @emeren

I’m pretty sure I found this fic during my midterms last semester, and when I tell you I’m so grateful for it lmaooo. It’s really just a good au, I think it fits Eren (honestly barking at just the concept) and the writing brings it all to life.

under the moonlight by @murmikaa

I’d have to be dumb not to recommend this to you. I love reading longer fics, and if you do, then this will 100% satisfy you. The whole story is great and immersive, not just between Eren and the reader; their relationships with the other characters are really what makes this special imo. There’s also beach sex, so. Obviously it’s good.

untitled.avi by @puredivinity (now @celestidarling)

Naur you must of thought wrong if you thought at least one of Mara’s fics wouldn’t be here. I’m obsessed, I think I’ve read it three times minimum. I read all her Eren fics, and you should too. She writes him in such a dreamy way, almost like he’s right there and too good to be true that you must be hallucinating. Immaculate.

midnight snacks by @writertitan

Dumb, college-typical antics and fluff with Eren... obviously you know I’m about that. The whole concept is so mundane, but so cute, you can’t help but fall for it because it could be so real!! I love that kinda stuff hehe

i’m your satellite by @ackerfics

Comparing hand sizes with Eren!! YEAAAAH!! No, okay, but I read the summary and was ready to dive in because... size kink go crazy, but when I tell you I was so blown away to find out that it was not only from Eren’s pov, but that he was being a complete simp and down terrible the whole time. Normalize boyfriends being completely fucking in love with their gfs that simple shit like the size of their hand makes them wanna simp even harder!!!!

eren as an ass man by @hznji

I’m dying on the hill that Eren is an ass guy and you should too because it’s the objective truth. Fluff, Eren being a complete dog as per usual, Eren’s being touchy (I will also die on the hill that he’s touchy as fuck and has no concept of personal space) and just in genral snarky but cute banter. Gotta love that.

Jean

tears over beers by @appplepii

When I tell you this is my favorite Jean fic, I mean it. Friends to lovers with hopelessly pining Jean + oblivious reader = everything I could have asked for in a fic, AND it’s from Jean’s pov too!!! INCREDIBLE!!! The pining made me yearn, and the smut was so well done, too.

this drabble by @arlerted

Whatever, whatever, WHATEVER!!! I DON’T WANNA TALK ABOUT IT!!! Cal is right, don’t do drugs but... this mf... this imagine.... has been burned into my mind since the first time I fucking read it bye. Callie also writes a bunch of filthy (affectionate <3) fics and drabbles and lewds and you should read them, preferably when you’re alone and with the lights off.

#anonymous #um you probably didnt ask for 1k words worth of reviews but here u go anyway!!!#fic recs

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scorpiobitch95 · 3 years

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Summary: You try convince Walter to love your favorite snack throughout your years together. The best dates are shared over cereal, after all.

Pairing: Walter Marshall x Female Reader

Word Count: 4.5k

Warnings: sugary sweet fluff, implied smut — nothing graphic, snarkiness, grumpy Walter to fluffy Walter, cursing, cuteness overload.

Author's Note: I let myself get carried away with this one. I needed grumpy but sweet Walter in my life. I hope you enjoy!

Edited by myself, sorry not sorry for the errors.

Taglist: @justaboringadult @greensleeves888 @cavillsharman @beck07990 @summersong69 @myloveforhenrycavill @kebabgirl67

Taglist for this fic: @lumiousmoon

*No permission is given for reposting my work, copying it, or claiming any ideas or parts as your own.

Please comment and reblog if you enjoyed!

It started when you and Walter were early dating.

💋

“Mmmm, pause. I need a snack.” Uncurling yourself from Walter’s warm body on the couch, you made your way to the kitchen to find something to cure your hunger. You called behind you, “Want anything, Marsh?”

“Whatever you’re having... I’ll have the same.”

“Cereal it is!” You pulled the ceramic bowls from the cabinet and opened the fridge to grab the milk. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Walter’s face scrunch in confusion. “What?”

“Cereal? Absolutely not,” Walter scoffed. “Would you grab me those spicy crisps?”

“Spicy chips, coming right up.” Vernacular was the subject of an ongoing heated debate with the Brit: the great ‘Names for Snacks Debate’ was especially hostile.

Once settled back under the blanket and snuggled into his side once more, you unpaused the movie. The energy in the room shifted, you could sense that you were being watched, but you refused to look up to look at Walter’s face. The judgment coming from the bear of a man who crunched his chips beside you was glaring.

"Stop it," you told him as you kept your eyes on the movie.

Walter didn’t say a word. His eyes traveled back to the TV but kept finding their way back to you.

“Walt, what is it? Is there something on my face?” You giggled at him lightly, unsure of what was bothering him.

“You really chose that for a snack?” His face was bewildered as if you were eating a bowl of Jeep parts.

“What? Don’t tell me you don’t eat cereal as a snack.” He shook his head curtly, wearing a look of disgust. Your eyebrows crinkled together as you followed by asking, “Not even as a quick dinner?”

“Cereal is meant for one time and one place, and that’s sometimes in the mornings for breakfast. That's why they call it breakfast cereal, love. Not dinner cereal, not snack cereal... Do you also eat cereal for lunch?” He was poking fun at you now.

“No, I’m not a heathen, Walter. Here, try a bite, just trust me. It’s amazing as a movie snack.”

His eyes were wide as a grimace was sent in your direction, “You’re crazy — no one does that.”

“Plenty of people do that,” you stated matter-of-factly.

“I’m really not the biggest fan…” Walter sighed and settled further into the couch, preparing for your exasperation that he knew was soon to follow.

“WHAT. Not the biggest fan of cereal? I’m sorry, you were sheltered as a child, weren’t you? There's cereal out there for everyone, Walt. Come on, try it.” You scooped a spoonful of your sugary Cinnamon Toast Crunch and held it to him. He reluctantly obliged your wishes, eating the bite but keeping a look of pain on his face for the entire time he chewed.

"See? Delicious. Ice-cold, crunchy, sweet, perfect." A sugary grin accompanied your playful tone, and Walter shook his head again, exaggerating his distaste for having to chew such an atrocity.

"Mhm. Definitely delicious." Your goofy bear was simmering under the surface of his scouring demeanor, though he stuck his tongue out in mock disgust.

"You're not the biggest fan," you muttered under your breath and rolled your eyes for dramatic effect. "I'll show you."

💋

Standing in the grocery store, you and Walter were having a battle of wits, arguing on the subject of your sweet tooth.

“I’m just trying to show concern for your dental health since you obviously won’t; all that sugar isn’t good for you.” Walter stood stern with his arms crossed, unmoving and solid like a brick wall.

“I appreciate your worry, Dad, but I’m going to keep eating it because I love it. One day, I bet I’ll convince you and you’ll be eating it with me. Plus, my dental health is immaculate, my dentist said so.”

The expression on Walter's face was unwavering as his eyebrows raised in a non-verbal challenge to your declaration.

“I don’t know how you can stand to eat that crap,” he muttered, thinking you couldn’t hear him.

“Oh no, don’t you dare, you grump! I don’t get on you about your snacks, back off mine. ” Despite his unnecessary grouchiness, you placed a hand on his crossed arms and raised up on your toes to give him a soft kiss on his bearded face. “Balance, babe. It’s all about balance.” You dug your way through his arms to find his hands and you drug him a little further down the cereal aisle.

“Come on, grumbly, pick out a cereal you think you might enjoy, for experiment’s sake.”

💋

“Fuck, babe. I’m going to be late, we just got called out on another accident. I am so sorry… I’m not sure when I’ll be home.” Walter had been working a ton lately, and his irritation with just how much he’d been working was starting to show. The two of you had been together for a few months now and had started to grow accustomed to having the other around consistently. You both became out of sorts when you hadn’t seen each other in a while.

“Don’t even worry about it, Walter. Just be careful, please... You should still come over when you’re finished tonight, but no pressure if you’re exhausted.”

“Of course, still need to kiss you goodnight. I can’t sleep if I haven’t.”

Walter Marshall might be a grump, but that grump could make your heart flutter in ways that you’d never felt before. Maybe it was that his sweetness and his charms were completely reserved for you and you alone. His teddy bear nature only appeared when he was near you. After putting back the ingredients for dinner to save for another night, you went to change into your sweats.

Walter appeared at your front door at 12:30 that night, nearly asleep but still standing strong. You’d dozed off on the couch after his call, but were immediately energized again when you saw his beautiful form standing in your doorway.

“Hello, I’m here to have a very late night date with an incredibly beautiful woman,” Walter said, the gravel in his voice making you shiver. Despite his exhaustion, Walter managed to smile at you with one of the biggest smiles you’d ever seen him manage.

You smirked, waving him inside. “Get in here, Bear.”

Walter reached his arms out to you, inviting you into his embrace. Your arms wrapped around his thick torso and you ran your hands up and down his sweater-clad back; he melted into you and burrowed his face into your neck. Walter released an exhaustive exhale. It was heavy and forceful, as though he’d been holding it back behind a stone barricade for the entirety of his day. Warmth flooded your body as his words vibrated from his chest, “Mmm... I missed you.”

“I missed you, too. Let’s get you fed. Preferences?”

Still snuggled in your neck, he gave his reply, “Nothing heavy, please. I don’t want to fall asleep at the table. That wouldn’t make for a good date.”

“Oh Walter, we can postpone date night, you need to eat something and get to bed. It’s nearly one,” you observed gently as you leaned your head back to get a better look at his face.

“No. I came here to have a date night. I’ve been looking forward to seeing you all day. I need you.” Walter’s warm lips caressed your forehead, placing soft kisses on you. “You think you’re still up for it?”

Nodding at him sweetly, you untangled from his embrace and went to tumble through the fridge, offering out suggestions for food, but he insisted, yet again, that you don’t go to any trouble.

“Okay… you’re going to hate it, but my last option is cereal. Other than that, it’s gonna be random leftovers.” You continued moving containers around in the fridge, taking stock of what you had left from the week before.

“Actually, I think I can handle some cereal.” You whipped your head around incredulously to look and heckle him, but he gruffly interrupted, pointing a finger at you from where he sat at your kitchen table. "Don't. Don't start. It's been a brutal day, and something cold doesn't sound half bad."

You smirked in silence as you turned back and poured your bowls, dancing your hips lightly side to side. Grabbing the candles you had left out for your dinner date, you lit them and placed them gently on the table between the two of you. It was date night, after all.

“Late night cereal date, it is.” Reaching down to caress his chin, you kissed one bearded cheek before sitting beside him. Walter’s lips held a slight curl, softly smiling at your glee.

💋

“Love, snack break?”

The two of you were engaged in an intense game of Scrabble, one of your favorite date-night-in traditions. Nodding your head in Walter’s direction, you continued to study your letters and the board with pure focus until you heard the twinkling sound of cereal hitting ceramic.

Not wanting to draw too much attention, you peeked up from your letter rack to make sure your ears weren’t deceiving you. Walter was not just making a bowl for you, but he was also making one for himself.

No way.

Walter made his way back to the table with the cereal, and you looked up at him in shock as though you hadn’t already noticed what he’d done.

“What is this? What is this I see? Walter Marshall choosing breakfast cereal as a snack? Why, I just cannot believe it.” Mock-surprise overtook your form as you motioned fake mind-blowing explosions from your head. Walter rolled his eyes.

“I figured If I can learn to like you, I can learn to like cereal.”

“HEY.”

Walter shrugged, retaking his seat at the table.

You squinted your eyes at him as you declared, “You’re going down for that. And I don’t just mean by losing this game.” A wicked grin crossed your face when you played your double score word:

“CHEERIO”

💋

Walter worked a lot of graveyard shifts while you were dating and during your early years of marriage while you worked a normal 8-5. Sometimes the only moments that you could see each other were when he came home from his shift early in the mornings before you started your day or in the evenings when you got home before he left to start his.

One early morning during your engagement, Walt showed up unannounced after a hard few nights at the PD. He was worn down but happy to see you, smiling through his exhaustion. This was the longest you’d been apart in a while; you hadn't seen each other in 4 days. You kissed him, lips attacking his while his arms snaked around you and pulled you tightly to his body. He hadn’t even come into the house yet.

Pulling him inside, your hands reached up to hold his scruffy face as you placed a more gentle kiss on his lips. “Babe, have you had dinner? Let’s get you something to eat… what would you like?”

He unfastened his holster, dropping it on the table by the door. Sinking into a chair, Walter bent over to untie his boots as he answered, “Honestly, anything is fine, just some kind of food.”

“I can cook you something! Why don’t you let me —“

“Sweet, don’t go to any trouble. I just want to see you before you go to work.”

He looked at the table where you had just sat down to a bowl of cereal for a quick breakfast before he arrived and pointed lazily to it. “That, I’ll take some,” he said, sleep trying to overtake his form.

Slowly grinning at his statement, you mentioned, "Isn't this technically your dinner time?" Walter wasn’t amused as he tilted his head to look at you as you gasped playfully, “You do realize you're about to eat cereal for dinner, right, Marsh?" Too sleepy to give his verbal rebuttal, he glared at you, the corners of his lips turning up slightly, which was your signal to accept your victory and move on.

Smiling softly back at him, you made your way to pour him a big bowl and made him a cup of piping hot tea to accompany it. Watching his face as he ate, you observed the little creases and purple-gray rings that had formed around his deep ocean-blue eyes. His beard was unkempt and had grown past its normal length just in the few days you’d been apart; you could see this was a new level of exhaustion.

“Tough night?” You asked him, moving your chair closer to him.

He nodded. “Very.” The nights were becoming more strenuous recently. Ever since he had switched to the detective unit, work had been holding him hostage and was taking a toll more than he’d like to admit.

His hand reached over to squeeze the free one lying on your lap. “I’m happy to see you, love.” The hard lines on his face softened as he traced lazy circles on the back of your hand with his calloused thumb. You could see in his eyes that he meant it, that you were his safe space. Walter always was in protection mode, always on alert, even though you tried to keep him at ease when he was with you. He was only really ever at ease once he was home and you were safe in his arms.

The food began to rouse him from sleepiness, and as he gained alertness, Walter’s brow furrowed as he took notice of the cereal box sitting on the dining table. “This is the one we’re eating? I expected you to be eating more of one of those tooth-rotting cereals that you love so much.” He looked over at the box of Honey Bunches of Oats with curiosity and then back at you, lifting what you called his ‘detective eyebrow.’

“This is… surprisingly somewhat better for you? Or at least it acts like it is.”

“Oh come on, I’m not that bad. I only let you believe that I am. It is my breakfast time after all,” you winked at him knowingly.

“Good to know my words are finally starting to sink in. I mean, it’s not that much better for you,” he was reading the box now, “but at least it isn’t borderline fluorescent, like those artificial fruity ones you’re always eating.”

“You know, it’s almost like I expect the hate and just enact my deflection shield every time you walk in the door.” You started giggling, unable to keep a straight face as you threw your arms in front of your face as a shield to his words. “Don’t worry, Walt, my guilty pleasure cereal collection is well-stocked. And quit hating on my Fruity Pebbles.”

💋

Slowly over time, these seemingly random cereal dates became a large foundation for quality time. These dates became like snapshots, each one memorable in its own way.

When you two hadn’t seen each other in days, you caught up over a cold bowl of sugary sweetness. You, telling all the details of your days; him, quietly listening and trying his best to leave his nights behind.

From then on, all it took was knowing you could have a cereal date mixed in the chaos of everyday life. Anytime things got hard or heavy, it was time to have a cereal date. Anytime you had a fight: you both would pause and make a bowl of cereal, sitting across the table from each other so that you could speak your feelings. There weren’t many of the world’s problems, or your own, that couldn’t be solved over sugary cereal and cold milk.

💋

You’d dragged Walter to your shared bed as soon as he’d arrived home, having not seen him for more than a few minutes at a time for the past month. This current case of his was intense and ongoing, but he was finally finished. You knew he was defeated in energy, but you were ovulating and your hormones were raging. Your body craved his touch and the feel of his skin gliding upon your own.

The plan was to go to dinner for a romantic evening since it had been a long while since that had been possible, but as soon as he walked through the door, your feral sexuality washed over you and you jumped into his arms. You clung to him with your face in his neck, taking in his scent and the warmth of his strong arms holding you up. He clung to you just as tightly. There was no complaint from the bear, for he was more than happy to spend the evening spoiling his lover.

Cuddling in the afterglow of your countless orgasms, a storm raged outside as tree limbs slapped at your windows incessantly.

“Wow, it sounds awful out there. I know we were going out, but I think that point is moot now.” You glanced up at Walter, kissing his jaw. “Let’s just cook something easy instead.”

“That sounds great, and we can stay naked.” Walt’s eyebrows danced flirtatiously as he grinned down at you, his hands caressing your warm skin. “I’ll go hunt around so I can keep my woman energized for the night ahead. We are nowhere near done.”

He’d only been gone a minute when a crack of thunder shook the house and the lights went dark. You heard his mumbling coming from the kitchen; he had called in to get a status update from the energy company.

Walking back into the bedroom, Walter, in his naked glory, walked over to where you laid, illuminated only by the candle he held in his hand. Wow, your husband was delicious.

"Power’s out for the whole city. It’ll take hours since this storm doesn’t have an end in sight. Looks like a hot dinner is off the table… and no one will deliver in this weather. I guess we know what’s for dinner." Setting the candle on the nightstand, he crawled back into bed.

Feeling seductive, despite being completely spent from your ravenous love-making mere minutes beforehand, you still hadn’t had your fill of your husband. You bit your lip as you ran your eyes up and down his exquisite body and cheekily replied, “Me, I hope.”

He chuckled lowly, the fangs in his pearly-white smile glinting at you in the candlelight. “You? Yes. I plan to feast on you all night long, kitten. But you’re going to need some sustenance first.” He was hovering over you. You couldn’t help yourself as you reached to run your fingers along his hairy chest and wrapped a leg around his hip, pulling him closer to you.

"Make it a cereal date?" You grinned at him.

“You read my mind.”

💋

“Our child is going to come out looking like the Lucky Charms Leprechaun if you don’t change it up some, love.”

Your cravings were intense. You’d heard several different views from your girlfriends and sisters: some craved random things they never even liked before, and some craved more of the things that they already loved and ate religiously before pregnancy. You fell into the latter. Cereal was your most sought-after snack: a big surprise to no one.

There weren’t many cliche late-night ice cream runs, but there were plenty of cereal and milk runs. Walter was a dutiful dad already, not lecturing you too often on what you wanted; he knew you were doing what you had to for the baby, and you ate healthily enough… aside from the copious amounts of junk cereal.

True to numerous other times in your life, date nights were hard to come by, even still. Sometimes the only dates you and Walter would get were in the wee hours of the morning when you’d wake up with a craving.

Walter was extremely doting, and even though he’d always been a caretaker, he really came into his own when you both learned you were to become parents. He’d crawl from the bed without a word, rummaging in the kitchen to bring you a bowl of your favorite and even bringing a small one for himself. You two would snuggle in the bed and talk. Talk about your baby, about future babies, about the future, about your dreams, all of it. You never knew when you met the grumpy bear that he would become this sweet of a man, always tender with you even when he was rough. Maybe it was the cereal sugar that had sweetened him up, at least you’d like to think so.

💋

Your daughter had been in the world for a little over three weeks, and neither you nor Walter had gotten much sleep since her arrival.

Walter finally got her down to sleep while you watched from the nursery doorway. You hadn’t had a meal together or slept at the same time for more than 10 minutes in weeks.

He was standing over her crib, resting his arms on the side as he watched her sleep. He was infatuated with this tiny human who had completely taken hold of his heart.

“Honey, join me for a date?” Your smile was tired, and as your bear’s exhausted eyes met yours, you wondered if you two shouldn’t just go to bed, but you missed him. You’d barely gotten the chance to praise him for how good of a daddy he was to your little girl.

“Mhm, gladly. Our usual?” He quietly followed you to the living room, where the coffee table had already been set up with the works. Craving the feel of his touch on your skin, you both sat on the couch and you laid your legs across his lap while you enjoyed the serenity of each other’s company.

💋

A chill glided across your skin as you awoke from a dream. You rolled over, reaching your arms out to find your sturdy man, searching for his warmth. Instead, you found cold bedsheets.

Unlike Walter to not be in bed with a furry arm draped over you, you pulled on your robe and went to find him, a slight worry filling your mind.

Surely he would have woken me if he’d had to go in?

As you stepped into the hallway, you heard hushed giggles and whispers coming from the kitchen. You stopped to poke your head into your kids’ rooms. Their beds were empty.

At least it’s Saturday.

Quietly pitter-pattering to your kitchen, you peered your head around the corner to find one of the sweetest sights your eyes had ever seen: your two babes, 8 and 5, were playing a princess board game at the table with your Bear. Cereal by their side, giggles ensued as the sugar hit their systems and they tried their best to keep quiet.

Walter’s deep whisper quietly filled the space. “Shh, girls. We can’t wake Mum, she needs her rest.”

“Can I have more Cap’n Crunch, Daddy?” Your youngest had an insatiable sweet tooth, just like her mama. She was quietly bouncing in her chair and smiling a toothy grin at her daddy.

“You’re just like your mum,” Walter beamed at her, obliging her wishes. “Just a little more, love, then we need to brush our teeth and get back to sleep.”

Not wanting the girls to know that you knew about their secret, you decided to make your way back to bed, but not before catching your husband’s eye as he winked at you and a grin radiated from his face.

Warm tingles filled your body as you silently thanked the universe for Walter and the life that the two of you had built together. Walter was the best dad and husband in the world. How had you gotten so lucky?

💋

“Cinnamon Toast Crunch or Golden Grahams, love?” Walter called to you from the kitchen.

The movie was selected, the kids were away for the evening sleeping at friend’s houses, and you and Walter were having a much-deserved night in.

You called back to him, “I’m thinking I’m going to skip the cereal? I’m not really feeling it tonight. I will, however, eat the spicy chips. Oh, and grab that dip out of the fridge, will ya?”

“For the last time, they are crisps.” Annoyance was evident by his tone.

“They’re chips, Walter. You’ve lived in the states for how long now? Just give it up already.”

“No fucking way. Wait… You don’t want cereal? Are you feeling alright?” Walter’s head popped into the doorway that connected the kitchen to the living room, his face stern with confusion and concern.

“Ehh, not right now. Yes, I’m fine, Marsh,” you giggled. “Just feeling like something different for once.”

“Well, that’s shocking. I’m just wondering if you’re really my wife.” Giggles continued to flow out of you as he wandered back to where you were seated. He handed you your snack, and plopped on the couch next to you, cuddling into you as you tossed a blanket over both of your bodies. Walter started the movie and began to chow down on the bowl of cereal he’d made for himself. You couldn’t control the smirk that spread across your lips as you watched him out of the corner of your eye.

“What?” he asked, his mouth full of the golden and cinnamon squares. His eyes met yours, questioning you.

“I would just like to point out that I knew I could convince you.”

His brow furrowed in confusion, not sure what you meant. “Convince me of what?”

“That cereal is the best movie snack.”

“I don’t know if I’d say it’s the best…”

“Walt, I’m sitting here with your previous favorite movie snack in my hands, and you totally skipped over it and went for cereal. I’m just saying, I told you so. It’s okay, I’ve known I was right all along, you don’t have to admit it.”

“Hmm.” He growled, mouth full again as he ignored your statement.

“Give me a bite!” You pressed closer to him, reaching for his spoon as he angled his body and cereal away from you.

“Oh no, nice try. You tease, you don’t get any.”

“Fine, grumpy, I’ll go make my own. Keep watching, I’ll be back.”

Shuffling to the kitchen, you proceeded to grab a bowl and make your own, but you found both cereal boxes empty on the counter. Quickly turning to check your special cereal cabinet for a backup box, you discovered you were completely out.

“WALTER! Are you fucking kidding me? We just bought those!” Standing with your arms crossed in the doorway, you glared at Walt as he stared back at you unfazed.

“I hate to break up your gloating, but you created this monster, love. And don’t forget about our two other little monsters who take after you.” His grin was cocky; he knew he’d bested you. Laser beams could have been shooting from your eyes for all you knew. You shook your head in disbelief at the audacity of your husband.

That bastard. That beautiful bastard.

Walter smiled softly at you and motioned for you to rejoin him on the couch. Much to your dismay, your anger at him diffused immediately. “Love, I’ll go buy more first thing in the morning. Here, come and share mine. I’ll be nice… it is date night, after all.”

* I do not own Walter Marshall, Nomis, Night Hunter, or anything related to it.

#Walter marshall #Walter marshall x you #nomis #night hunter #Henry cavill #henry cavill fanfic #cereal dates #scorpiobitch95 #jill writes #fluff #Walter fluff

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kpoptrashlord-007 · 4 years

Text

The Money Pit (Goldmine);; WYK

Word Count;; 5.8k

Genre;; Smut && Fluff

Pairing;; Construction Foreman!Lucas x Fem!Reader

Summary;;

There's no amount too large in your pursuit of the perfect home. With a construction crew on deck, you've started renovating your vast estate… and then re-renovating, since finding the perfect balance of grand yet simple is not as easy as one might think.

Thankfully the foreman of the crew is quite patient with an immaculate eye for design. With Lucas on the job, you know he won't stop until you're completely satisfied.

Warnings;;

18+ Smut. Oral Sex (fem. receiving). Shower Sex.

Reader is mentioned to be quite a bit shorter than Lucas.

Notes;;

Happy late birthday Lucas aahjdjfkgl I’m fashionably late as always

Main Masterlist || NCT Masterlist

How often you changed your mind must have annoyed Lucas, or at the very least inconvenienced him, but he never mentioned it. Each time you handed him a new design, he would just smile and tap away at his iPad, updating the schematics and forwarding it to his crew. They seemed more weary of your sudden and frequent changes than he did; you could see it painted on their faces as they loitered near your fence, groaning and shaking their heads while scanning the new plans.

After a game of rock, paper, scissors, two of the men were tasked with returning the counters and purchasing a glass set to match the current theme you desired. Reloading the granite counters they had just delivered back onto one of their trucks, there was no mistaking the irritation building amongst them.

Lucas, however, never said a word against it. If the changes were too drastic, he'd send his crew home and spend the day reconfiguring. Otherwise he would just compliment your stylistic choices and lead the others with a positive example, jumping straight back into the task at hand with nary a complaint.

Considering how much money you had and would continue to spend on the renovations, you imagined he didn't actually care. Work is work, after all, and he was being paid by the hour, not by the job.

With that in mind, you had no regrets. It was your home and it had to be perfect. You weren't one to settle in life and this monumental endeavour was no different.

Though you were stern and expected the highest quality of work from each and every one of his crew members, you weren't heartless. You never forgot to set out treats and refreshments for them throughout the day and always provided lunch every day. It was the least you could do to repay their hard work, aside from their paycheck of course.

Frozen lemonade cups and a pitcher of iced tea decorated the plastic table on the front lawn. Some of the crew members had taken notice and were crossing the yard to grab their share. You hoped the treats would cool the tension brewing amongst them. Morale could only take so many hits before they were both disheartened and bored with this entire project. What was meant to be a quick month, two-month-tops renovation had carried on through yet another season.

While the weather was still nice now, in a few weeks the sun would become unbearable. For this reason, the outdoor projects were of the highest priority. Most of the crew focused on the pond and gazebo with a few working on the patio. After scrapping plans time and time again, you had found peace in the current equilibrium between natural and man-made.

The pond would be the centerpiece rather than the gazebo and they would add a plethora of trees, rocks, and plants to give the yard the feeling of true wilderness - as if it had been reclaimed by nature. Your shed would be relocated to the edge of the property, out of view from the patio and second-floor deck. To top it off, the deck would jut out further than the patio to give it a sense of isolation as you gazed down at the pond.

As much as you wanted to take credit for rebuilding the house in your ideal image, it would be a lie. It was Lucas' idea to have the focal point be a pond large enough to attract wildlife and to transition the back patio into a miniature greenhouse while using the deck above it as a place to relax. If he hadn't voiced these minor suggestions, you would have scrapped the design ten times over by now.

When it came to harmonising the decorations with the foundation and structure of your home, Lucas was on another level. He had an eye for it. Though that really shouldn't have come as a surprise given his occupation.

"So Lucas," you spoke, cutting through the humid morning air as you approached the group gathering around your snack stall. "How many homes do you typically work on in a given year?"

"Anywhere between four to ten, though this year may bring down the average. We're looking at a whopping grand total of one."

"If that, boss!"

Rolling your eyes at his smug smirk and the snickers from his crew, you turned on your heels and walked back inside. They could handle the outside well enough on their own. At this point in the venture you would just get in their way so you decided to focus your attention on the indoor renovations.

The living room looked drab, the kitchen was too small, and one of the bathrooms needed a complete overhaul due to the changes the last owners implemented. Your bedroom was dated as well, with a design that felt more like a farmhouse than a country house.

As you glided through the house, you heard Lucas following hot on your tail. His footfall had become familiar after so many days spent with him trailing behind you whilst listening to your updated plans for the renovations. It also came as no surprise that he was right on your heels - he knew the entirety of the last set of plans would be trashed in favour of whatever you had cooking in your mind right now and the best way for him to understand your thought process would be to walk through it with you here and now.

"So what are we thinking?"

His voice bounced off the hall's walls, rumbling through you and thudding against the cage containing your pounding heart. The pure vibration of his deep voice had you jumping in shock. While you had grown accustomed to it, it still caught you off guard whenever he was closer than you had expected. The hairs on your neck stood straight. With every word spoken, you could feel warm air brushing past your ear.

Turning toward him, you came face to face with his chest. Lucas was a tall man and most encounters required a tilt of the head. He also had a lot of presence to accompany his strong frame. When he talked, you felt compelled to listen. When he walked, your eyes were drawn to him. It was impossible to ignore him, no matter how hard you tried.

"Modern, simple, sleek."

"Wasn't that the plan already?"

"Yes, but this time I want it in black and silver, and I think we should switch some of the first floor rooms with the second."

"But we wanted the first floor to be guest friendly, leaving them no reason to go up to the second floor… right?"

"Well, yes, but I still think-"

"So the layout is settled. I agree that black and silver would look really nice. It won't be hard to switch the colour scheme. Anything else?"

"Well, what about a spa?"

"Like the one planned for your second bathroom?"

"No, a jacuzzi."

"Then we can put it on the deck."

"Then how about-"

He cuts you off with a deep chuckle. "I get it. Finally, I get it."

"I haven't finished so I'm not sure what you're getting."

The smirk that crawled across his face made you stop in your tracks. There was something devious in the way he regarded you. With each step he took to close the distance, you felt your heartbeat thud deep and fast. With the loudest beat, he caged you against the wall. Though it wasn't your intention, you bit the inside of your lip as you gazed up at him.

"If you wanted me around so badly, princess, you didn't need to spend so much."

"Excuse me?"

"Sure, I'll go on a date with you."

You sputter, the sound between an offended scoff and a defensive yelp. "I didn't ask you to!"

"Oh? Then why must you change all the designs at the very last minute? I figured you just wanted me around."

"That, good sir, is not the case at all."

"If you say so."

You wanted to wipe that grin right off his face… but you also rather liked it. His smile was beyond gorgeous. While his features were angular and masculine, his skin glowed with a soft and tender gleam. Even his eyes were dough-like as they regarded you, bright with mirth and teasing. The longer you stared at one another, the wider his grin grew and the further you fell under his spell. Once again caught within his pull, you gravitated toward him.

Heat rolled off his smooth skin in waves. Warmth welcomed you into his space, thawing the frigid atmosphere that hovered wherever you went. Strong arms wrapped around your waist and you felt fire ignite within your gut. He pulled you against his chest and the blaze within roared. There was so little space between you both that you could feel him breathe in and out, your body falling into sync with his. You could taste him on the air when you inhaled - a tinge of a mint and grapefruit, both bitter and sweet.

Emboldened, your lips found his. They were plump and plush. He groaned when you bit his bottom lip and tugged him along like a toy, backing up until you met the wall with him in tow. Entwining your fingers in his soft, brown hair, you pulled him deeper into the kiss.

Following your lead, he slid one hand around your waist to rest on the small of your back while the other gripped the nape of your neck. He didn't miss the way you tensed beneath him. A chuckle rumbled in his chest and the vibration travelled through you in the form of a shiver and you moaned.

"Hey boss, got a min- nevermind, we can figure it out."

The crew member's sudden entrance (and subsequent departure) snapped you out of your reverie. Using Lucas' firm chest to steady yourself, you pushed yourself out of his bubble with an indignant huff. Straightening your posture and fixing your clothes, you slipped out and away from his looming presence.

He made you feel small. Not in the way that most men try to, but in a cute way. He didn't make you feel vulnerable but rather precious, as if you were something to be treasured and adored. When he looked at you, he didn't look down on you. Instead he gazed upon you as one would an oasis in an endless desert - like a divine blessing.

"Anyway," you said, coughing to clear your mind of how toned he felt pressed against you and how warm his mouth felt on yours. "There's work to be done in the bathroom. Follow me."

"Perhaps a drain that needs to be snaked?"

Ignoring the insinuation he was playing into, you led him up the stairs to the master bedroom's personal bathroom. Walking further into the room, you stopped in front of the shower and faced him with an exasperated look. He watched you, all hints of his prior teasing hidden as he transitioned into work mode and waited for you to address your latest concern.

When he didn't pick up on the issue on his own, you rolled your eyes. Whipping your hand toward the shower, you pointed at the handles that lined the tiled walls.

"These have to go."

"Are you sure? They could come in handy."

"For what, pray tell?"

"Strenuous activities."

"This is a bathroom, not a waterpark."

"I could turn it into one."

"You're ridiculous," you sighed, ignoring his goofy grin. "The previous owners were elderly and needed them. I, however, do not need them and want them gone."

"Well, your wish is my command. I, however, think they could be fun." Catching your disinterested frown in his peripheral, he brushed past you and looked inside the shower. He grabbed one of the handles and gave it a harsh yank. Seeming to pass his little test, he nodded and hopped inside.

You scoffed. "Going to demonstrate, are you?"

"Come on. This kind of fun is better with two."

He winked, beckoning you forward with a flick of his finger. Curiosity got the better of you and you joined him. It wasn't a small shower and yet it felt cramped. Lucas' body, his presence, filled the entire space, only retreating enough to let you in before encapsulating you in his warmth. Your breathing stuttered as you glanced up at him. His flirting had evolved beyond light teasing and now lust painted his features in a dark yet radiant glow.

His arm slithered around your back and you gasped at how hot his skin felt even through your shirt. He made an offhand comment about removing your clothes but you didn't quite register his words, too busy staring into his large, playful eyes. Your lips were already parted from your prior gasp, allowing the subsequent squeal to pass unhindered as you jumped, cold water cascading down your body.

Lucas laughed. "Oops."

The water coming out cold for several seconds when it's first turned wasn't usually a big deal. It was, however, shocking when you hadn't expected it to turn on in the first place. Not to mention you weren't typically inside the shower before the water had a chance to heat up.

Even as the temperature started to rise, you couldn't shake the chill that trickled down your bones and lingered in your joints as Lucas ran his fingers along your skin. Out of nowhere, he dropped to his knees. His hand wrapped around the underside of your forearm and he dug his nails into the tender flesh just to watch you squirm, as if you weren't already providing enough of a show.

Crawling upward inch by inch, his grasp landed on your elbow. He guided your arm up past your trembling lips and furrowed brow. Somewhere above your head and just off center, you felt ice greet your curled, cautious fingers. You jolted.

"Is it cold?" You heard the teasing lilt in his voice and you could picture the cheeky smile that no doubt accompanied it.

Water continued to fall around you and you risked a glance, eyes falling onto Lucas' soaked form. His dark hair clung to his forehead. The remnants of his mirth dissipated into desire once your gazes locked. Droplets trickled free from beneath his sculpted chin. Though you couldn't see his actual skin through the drenched fabric of his now skin tight shirt, you could see every bump and divet of his toned chest all the same.

Shivers tore down your spine when he lifted your other arm. A familiar ice-cold sensation greeted you. Noticing your brief discomfort, he encased your hand with his and brought it back down to his level at your hips. Whispering sweet nothings against your pulse, he left a chaste kiss on your wrist while his warmth flowed from his long, slender fingers to yours.

"It's just the handles. Think you can hold them for me?"

Your eyes had long since fluttered shut and you felt sensitive to his touch and to the way his plump lips brushed against your skin. Nodding in acknowledgment, you secured one of the handles with a tight trip, earning a pleased hum from the man hovering inches from your tensed thighs. He released your other hand and you immediately missed his touch. All the same, you searched for the second handle.

The cool tiles your hand brushed against during the ascent were slick with stray beads of water, reminding you of the fact that the water was still on and that steam had started to spread and fill the bathroom. Latching onto the second handle, you held back a gasp at the vast contrast between the icy metal and the near scalding water. A steady stream trailed down your shoulders and down the curves of your breasts hidden beneath your blouse. Even so, the burning temperature never diminished, not even when the excess water reached your ankles and disappeared into the small pool that engulfed your feet.

Hot air fanned against the exposed skin that peeked out from your disheveled shirt. Snapping your attention down to Lucas, your breath caught in your throat when his lips covered the slice of skin with sweet kisses that soon turned fierce. Teeth nipped along your hip and nails raked down your back, forcing a gasp to tumble from your lips. Seeking an audience and having found it in your widened eyes, his touch returned to its prior soft and caring caresses.

Trailing upward along your center, his fingers made quick work of your blouse's buttons. One by one they popped open. Kisses were quick to replace them, his lips eager to taste every inch of your skin. When the stretch began to inconvenience his exploration, he switched from sitting on his knees to towering above you. Without pause, his lips latched onto your neck, his tongue trailing along your pulse.

You fastened your grip on the handles. A soft moan floated through your parted lips. He took notice of it and smirked, leaning back far enough to take in your expression. Finishing off the last few buttons, he took a moment to just admire your form. Large hands cupped your breasts, teasing you through your bra with no intention of going further.

"Lucas," you whispered, the sound almost lost to the downpour of water that surrounded you in a blanket of warmth.

"Is this okay?"

"Do you think I would have let you get this far if it wasn't?"

He winked at you, his tone much more playful than his touch. "I knew you liked me."

Rolling your eyes, you readjusted your grip on the handles and mumbled about not having signed up for a workout and if he could just get to the point already, to which he was happy to oblige. His touch dropped from your chest to your waist. Ghosting across the hip before squeezing your sides, he continued to tease up until a cold glare and an irritated sigh filled the small space.

"You're so impatient."

"Is this a test to see how well the water heater works? Think you can get to the point before the water runs cold?"

After throwing his hands up in mock defeat, he made quick work of your skirt, unzipping it before tugging it down to pool around your ankles. Once again he dropped to his knees. His breath warmed your exposed skin as he leaned in close. Gentle yet firm, Lucas gripped your thigh and calf and lifted you free of your skirt before resting your leg on his broad shoulder.

"I'm sure the water heater is fine. Don't even think about it. Just focus on how I make you feel."

"Annoyed," you huffed, shaking in uncertainty as he raised your second leg onto his other shoulder, your body and most of your weight transferred to his sturdy frame.

"Don't let go."

A quick flick of his eyebrow reminded you of your grip on the metal handles and you tightened your hold, a feat you hadn't realised possible. With you secure and wrapped around his neck, his lips found your thigh. Teeth brushed against your skin as he moved closer to your thrumming core. Kiss after kiss, he painted your leg with his affection in light nips and gentle teasing.

Water flowed down your body, changing its natural route to follow the pattern impressed upon your skin by his touch. Pale indentations littered your skin. Trails of his feather-light touch lingered in your memory; in particular, the delectable memory of his fingers slipping across the vast, wet expanse of your form. From the backside of your thigh to the hollow of your hip around to your smooth, arching back and down to the curve of your ass - his touch imprinted onto your skin and you felt him everywhere at once.

Once his lips found your clothed cunt, he indulged. Anticipation flooded your system and an airy moan left your lips, drowned out by the pounding of water in your ear. Nuzzling his nose against your clit, his breath was both warming and tickling even through the soaked material of your underwear.

A small gasp broke past the water barrier and caught his attention. Throwing you a quick glance, he grinned against your skin before his tongue teased your entrance once more. His nails dragged along your hip, hooking on your underwear. Inch by inch, he pulled the fabric down, giving him access to where you wanted him. The thought of his tongue running circles on your clit had you trembling in his arms.

"Don't worry - I got you, princess."

Discarding your panties alongside your skirt, Lucas adjusted himself. Shifting into a more comfortable position, he wrapped his arms around your thighs and spread your legs further apart. With your body cradled in his large, strong arms, you relaxed. Easing your death grip on the handles, you allowed yourself to enjoy the ride.

Lucas showed no hesitation. The time for teasing was over. He didn't test the waters nor did he lick at your pussy like it was ice cream melting in the summer heat - he ate you out like you were a gourmet meal.

Diving right in, his tongue dipped into your cunt. He set a fast pace, stimulating your nerves with his constant movement. He didn't bother to look at you, too focused on his task, so you opted to close your eyes and allow the sensations to overtake you instead.

Warm water continued to pour all around you. Despite the scalding temperature, it paled in comparison to the heat brewing within. Attentive to when your breath hitched and when you'd mewl, Lucas targeted the spots that had you quivering beneath his tongue. You had no choice but to react to the way he played your body like a fiddle personalised to his touch.

The closer he drove you to the edge, the weaker you became. Unable to keep your body straight, you had since slumped around him. The further you fell into him, the more pressure you put onto the handles. Somewhere in the back of your mind, you knew your muscles would despise this little adventure but you couldn't find the rationality to care, too lost in the feeling of his tongue pressed flat against your cunt before it ran upward to your clit.

As he sucked the little nub between his plump lips, tickling the oversensitive bundle of nerves with the tip of his tongue, he eased a finger into your anticipating cunt. Not bothering to hold back, your moans filled the spaces between the abundance of lust and the endless steam.

With precision acquired from his experimental tongue flicks, his finger hooked upward to press against your sweet spot. Your body curled inward unto itself, cramping in a painful way that you all but ignored in pursuit of your high.

Despite your hands being occupied with the important task of keeping you upright, you wanted to feel his wet locks within your grasp, you wanted to grab him tight and ride him harder. You weren't so far gone, however, that you were willing to risk an embarrassing accident in the shower with the man renovating your home.

Whether he sensed your hesitant desire or it was of his own desire, Lucas raked the hand that wasn't now two fingers deep into your cunt along your backside while pushing himself even closer to your body. With no space to be found between you two, he broke free from your clit to speak against your skin. Though muffled, his words cut through your haze with clear intent.

"Ride my face, princess."

With barely enough time to place his mouth back against your cunt, you folded your ankles behind his back and exerted the last of your energy to pull yourself up whilst also encaging him between your thighs. He moaned and the vibration went straight to your core.

Like a man starved, he worked his tongue deep into you, teasing the spot that caused stars to burst behind your eyes. His nose nuzzled against your clit and upon seeing the effect the additional stimulation left on you, he added his thumb into the equation to press firmly against the sensitive nerve center.

Chasing your orgasm, you tensed your body. The swirling, impending wave of ecstasy was within reach and you felt your primal urges take over. From your fingers and the indents forming across your palm from the force of your grip on the metal bars, down from your curved yet slouched torso to your trembling legs and thighs that showed no remorse to the man between them, you tensed in preparation of the total relaxation that was soon to follow.

It hit you like a freight train.

Your body trembled and curled in pleasure as your orgasm tore through you in a flash of light.

Lucas swirled his tongue deep in your quivering cunt and dug his fingers deep into the plump flesh of your crushing thighs. He chuckled deep from within his own body as your pleasure mixed with his anticipation. He didn't relent even as your staggering breaths came out in whimpers, oversensitivity building within your pulsing core. Your body was losing its strength fast and you knew you couldn't hold on for another round.

"Lucas," you whined, squeezing his cheeks twice before letting your legs fall limp around him.

"Pretty fun, right?"

You nodded, eyes drifting open to gaze upon him. Deliberate in his slow and sensual pace, he placed a light kiss against your tender clit before inching his way up your body, lifting himself off the shower floor and releasing your shaky legs back to ground-level in the process. Unwilling to stand on your own for long, you pried his arms around you and fell into his form.

He chuckled again, this time the sound much lighter and carefree, turning off the water and holding you, his strength and energy unhindered despite having held you on his shoulders for so long.

Unlike earlier, his entire body now pressed against you. You could feel his hard cock through his soaked pants and, though still sensitive, it awoke another layer of desire: the desire to please.

Despite uncoordinated fingers and a chill seeping into your bones now that the water was off, you undressed him. The shirt took too much effort, what with the slick buttons that wouldn't stay put within your pruned hands. The pants, however, were much easier once you had given up on your delicate approach. You slipped your own shirt and bra off on the way to the bed, gesturing for him to do the same with his boxers.

He didn't have to be told twice, stumbling out of the wet material and tripping onto the bed in the process. With an airy giggle, you fell into bed beside him.

"Are you going to tell me why I should keep this bed next?"

"Keep it?" He snorted, knocking on the headboard twice. "I'm about to prove why you need to upgrade to a much sturdier frame."

"Enlighten me."

Lucas rolled to hover over you, his arms trapping you on the soft mattress. Staring into his deep, chocolate eyes, time seemed to slow. Droplets of water bounced from his tousled hair to land on your forehead and cheeks. The back of his finger ghosted across your cheek, collecting the stray water and smearing it away. Its remnants glistened and shone, catching the sunlight fighting to break through the blinds.

"Don't hold back, Lucas. Ruin me."

His eyes widened for a brief second before his lips devoured your own. There was raw desire behind his hungry kisses. His mouth didn't stray far from your swollen lips, only breaking contact to nip at your neck or tug on your ear.

If it would elicit a sound, small or loud, he'd pursue it. He'd tease until you rewarded him with verbal confirmation of your pleasure. He was easy to read but you didn't mind, giving him as much as he craved. Your unconstrained whines and moans filled the room and he'd have it no other way.

The louder you were, the harder his cock grew.

You could feel it between your thighs. When he leaned down to whisper right into your ear in that deep, rumbling tone of his (a simple action that sent your cunt into overdrive), his cock would brush against your entrance. Electricity tingled within your core with every fleeting touch.

You thrusted your hips up into his, tempting him to take you, practically begging him to fuck you senseless.

And Lucas never disappointed.

Several rounds later and the room was painted in orange as the sun began to fall. You needed another shower, or perhaps a bath that you could rest your aching body within. The silk sheets slipped over the curves of your body, sliding across your raised knee and falling off your breasts completely as Lucas sat up. Cool air tickled your exposed skin and you frowned, tugging the sheet and blanket back up to your neck.

He stared at you with a serious expression for a solid minute before something mischievous twinkled within his gaze.

Your frown expanded.

"Spit it out."

"Give me two months alone to work on this house as I see fit and I promise you'll be satisfied. You won't want to change it again."

"You want me to leave you alone in my house for two whole months so you can play around and experiment?"

"Yeah," he drawled, a playful smile lifting the corners of his lips. He trailed two fingers up your arm. "Pretty much."

"Do you think I'm crazy? No way!"

"Why not?"

"Because it's my house! My pride!"

"I promise you'll love it or a full refund."

Full refund? Now that gave you pause.

"Are you yanking my chain?"

"Nope. Totally serious." He gestured offhandedly. "Take a vacation and come home to paradise."

You had poured a lot of money into the house already and the total pending was enough to put most into a lifetime of debt. Even to you it wasn't chump change, but your pursuit of the perfect home was well worth the money sinkhole it had become. When it came to your estate, you had no regrets.

And yet…

Hook, line and sinker, he had caught your intrigue.

Silence followed as you searched for the trick or the fine print, as you tried to rationalise his train of thought and discover his angle, but you kept coming back to the same conclusion:

He either built the house of your dreams or he tried to return the ridiculous amount of money you had poured into this monster project.

No matter what, you won!

"Fine, it's a d-"

"And if you love it, you can tip me by taking me out on a date as a thank you."

You scoffed. There it was. "Seriously?"

"As a heart attack."

"Fine. It's a deal."

Two months flew by when the extent of your worries had been if sleeping in was worth missing the breakfast menu and what time was considered too early to start the margaritas. There was no denying that this vacation was just what you needed but you were happy to be home. Paradise got dull fast, what with all the quiet and the relaxation and the complete lack of chaos.

Perhaps Lucas had been onto something when he said you were more interested in his company than the renovations.

You scoffed as you dragged your luggage to the front door. The taxi disappeared down the driveway, leaving you to observe the yard. It looked the same but you weren't worried. The thought of Lucas slacking off for even an hour seemed too far-fetched for you to even humour. In fact, it only fueled your desire to see the interior. The entirety of his focus would've been devoted to finishing the job.

Without a doubt it would be nothing less than a masterpiece.

With rattling keys, you opened the door and stepped inside. Even with your expectations through the roof, the sheer elegance in the design swept you off your feet. A breathless gasp slipped through your slackening jaw. There was a mixture of all your prior ideas blended into this final, beautiful outcome. It was everything you wanted but were never quite able to express.

"Do you like it?"

You jumped. His smooth voice sent a tremble down your back. Spinning to face him, you smiled. "Like it? I love it!"

"I'm glad," he said, flashing a grin that shone bright even in the open, sun-filled foyer.

He was dressed in a simple white tee and blue jeans. It was a casual look but it suited him well, drawing no attention away from his chiseled jaw and dazzling, toothy smile. It was the first time you had seen him out of his 'work clothes' and you found you rather liked it.

Twirling around the room, you inspected his handiwork. Care went into every inch. There wasn't a single piece that didn't match. He had even replaced some of your random decorations with much cuter, suitable pieces. Items you hadn't realised were ruining the vibe were now gone and you felt the room was much fresher and happier.

"You're amazing!"

"That's why you pay me the big bucks."

"It's so intricate and… perfect. Thank you. Really, thank you so much."

"Anything for you," he drawled as you drew closer to him, entering the bubble of his vibrant warmth.

"Well, I think you've more than earned that date. Should we go now?"

Despite your words, your hands had a mind of their own. Slipping beneath his shirt, you ran your fingers along his abs. He hadn't let himself go at all. In fact, he felt (and looked) more defined and toned since your last rendezvous. You licked your lips, a subconscious reaction to how his body pressed against yours.

"And here I thought you would have forgotten."

You shook your head, a coy smile on your lips. "How could I have forgotten our little side deal when it was just as tantalizing as the main meal?"

"In that case, I'll grab my jacket. Unless… you wanted me to show you how to put those shower handles to good use again?"

"I don't believe for a second that you haven't found something new to play with, not with that perverted mind of yours. Don't tell me - there's a hidden lift perfect for two."

"You act like you don't love how innovative I can be," he teased, leaning down into your space whilst tilting your chin to meet his gaze. "But yeah, I could show you some other secrets hidden about… or I could just show you the sex dungeon in the basement instead."

"The what?!"

"I'm kidding. Probably. Maybe. Should we check?"

– ♡ – If you enjoyed this, please consider liking, commenting, reblogging, and/or following! Thank you!

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icyharrington · 5 years

Text

Is It Wrong?- The Epilogue (Michael Langdon X Reader)

HELLO ALL!!! here is the long-awaited epilogue to finally finish the is it wrong series. i sincerely hope y’all enjoy this, and i am SO sorry for taking forever to write this!! i had some kind of mental block stopping me, but i finally forced myself to sit down and JUST DO IT. i wanna thank every last one of you who’ve supported this series of filth, especially the ones who’ve been here since the beginning. when i published that first chapter, i never realized just how much joy this fucked up little story would bring into my life. y’all are the best.

plot: it’s been 5 years since your whirlwind fuckfest-turned-romance with your stepbrother, michael langdon, came to its angst-filled end. life is good, but there’s just one thing missing.

warnings: fuckboy michael, fem!Reader, post-high school au, fluff, some angst, cursing/talk of sexual shit/yanno the deal lmao. no smut..... IM SORRY LOL IT JUST DIDN’T FIT INTO WHAT I HAD PLANNED!!! but i hope y’all still like it regardless lmao

word count: 4k

tag list*: @alicecooper19 @wroteclassicaly @ritualmichael @sloppy-little-witch-bitch26 @trelaney @avesatanormalpeoplescareme @kissydevil @sloppy-wrist @michael-langdon-appreciation @ccodyfern @sojournmichael @starwlkers @theinevitableprophecy @divinelangdon @maso-xchrist @space-princesssss @ahslangdon101 @isabellaserpentiawesson @stupidocupido @bademliimagnum @nana15774 @urlocalgothb @hexqueensupreme @gold-dragon-slayer @pr1ncessd1e @langdonsboots @langdonstrash @isoldedax @fckinsupreme @hisgirlwonder @venusxxlangdon @obsessivenostalgicbaby @noelle525 @kleinegamerin @lambofcairo @kiiteiru @littledemondani @beriveri @dcvilrising @grossgayartist @featherpool-852 @discocalico @cryptid-coalition @nu-tt @diamcndscarred @chocolateandhorror @michaelsfrenchtoast @ms-mead @sarcasticbxtch20 @ringpop-poppy @coollangdon @s7venwonders @imjustasadhoe @melodylangdon @bahsasblog @codycrazy @sojournmichael @perfect-ginger-maniac @baphomet-wears-gucci @bigstudentpatrolbonk @langdonsgothgf @jazzcowgirl @a-n-t-s @blind-daydream @langdonsblood @ritualmichael @myluciferiscody @fentycoven @gracebtw @bongwaternation @fckinsupreme @thewalkingtrenchcoats @king-of-mischief-and-bitchez @hoseokchild @witchywcmans @satanicbimbo @mallorys-winter @langdonskillerqueen @anantarora @aradevil @anemia-doll @muralskins @funtomimagines @mrssgtjamesbuckybarnes @our-mrlangdon @lotsofhunny @sevenwonderwitch @horrorstreet @kpopmademedo-it @naughtygranger @codyshands @krazycags01 @skullag

*if you asked to be tagged but aren’t on my tag list, i apologize!!! some blogs just can’t be tagged for some reason :(

You looked out the window and onto the rain-slick city streets, captivated by the way the rows of glowing neon signs reflected in the puddles, and you smiled.

Everything was as it should be.

Sandwiched between your two best friends in the back of the Uber, you couldn’t help but feel a rush of pride at the thought that you’d made it. You’d graduated college, managed to land your dream job, and, most recently, you’d finally been able to get yourself a spacious apartment in the city you loved most. It was the first time in your life that you’d ever felt truly in control of things.

Tonight was a celebration of those accomplishments; you and your friends had arranged to go to the bars by your new apartment that night and get shitfaced like you were college freshmen again, just enjoying each other’s company. You could already feel the warmth of the shots of Fireball you’d pregamed with earlier that night, cheeks flushed and rosy. Life was good.

The Uber screeched to a halt in front of the bar, your friends’ resulting drunken squeals drowning out the rap song that drifted loudly through the speakers. You grinned, waving a quick goodbye to the bored-looking driver before dispensing onto the street with your group, one by one.

Through the glass windows, you saw a lively scene; it seemed as though you’d chosen the perfect night to go out. The bar was dim, lit with overhead lights that shifted from color to color, a band stationed at the stage in full action. People danced, drank, sang; you could see couples making out sloppily in booths. This was going to be a fun night.

Outside the bar stood two skinny boys, dressed casually in ripped jeans and band t-shirts, who you were nearly certain were underage. They chatted as they smoked cigarettes, seemingly unfazed by the chilly breeze and light drizzle coming down over their mops of overgrown hair. One of them, the lighter-haired one of the pair, almost reminded you of…

“Hey ladies,” said one, blowing cigarette smoke from the corner of his mouth with a smirk. You could feel his alcohol-glossed eyes travel up and down your body, drinking in your fishnet-clad legs and prominent curves, accentuated in a maroon leather miniskirt. “You trying to have some fun?”

At this, you and your friends erupted into giggles, long fingernails gripping at each other’s forearms as you fought to balance yourselves.

“Isn’t it past your bedtime?” your friend said, resulting in a fresh wave of laughter.

Ignoring the boys’ scowls, you continued inside, sighing in relief at the warmth, which was only reinstated by the slew of sweaty bodies flowing throughout the building. The music was loud- perhaps not the most accurate in terms of pitch, but it was certainly good enough to dance to, and, luckily, you were in a dancing mood.

“You shoulda gave them your number,” your friend joked as you made your way to the bar, her voice raised so you could hear her above the noise. “When’s the last time you’ve gotten laid?”

You rolled your eyes. Ever since you’d broken up with your ex a year before, your friends had been nagging you to engage in causal hookups to help you get over him- they’d tried setting you up with any single man they could get their hands on, and had even gone as far as creating a Tinder page in your name. In all honesty, you had no interest in men at the moment; you were far more focused on your career, which was your top priority for now. Sure, you got horny sometimes, but wasn’t that what vibrators were made for? You were twenty-two. You had your whole life ahead of you to find some good dick.

Besides, most men you’d been with in the past could hardly satisfy you, so it seemed almost better to do things on your own. The only man you’d ever actually enjoyed being with was…

You flinched, pained by your second reminder of a certain blond-haired fuckboy that night. Even now, nearly five years since the last time you’d seen him, it hurt to think of his name.

“Three Sex on the Beaches, please,” your friend said to the bartender, before turning back to look at you. “Sounds like something you’re in need of.”

“Shut up,” you mumbled, drumming your fingers on the wooden surface as you turned to watch the band, which seemed to be some kind of punk-pop-rock hybrid, the members decked in leather and chains.

“You know I’m right,” your friend shouted, running her manicured fingernails through her hair as she craned her neck to look at the bartender over her shoulder. “Hey, the bartender’s pretty cute. And he even kind of seems like your type.”

You glanced back disinterestedly, hardly breaking your attention from the band to look at the man in question. Right now his back was to you, and he appeared to be talking to some drunk girls as he fixed your drinks; his blond hair was slightly outgrown, fraying out in unkempt curls at the base of his neck, toned bicep flexing under the thin shield of his form-fitting white t-shirt as he reached for a bottle of peach schnapps.

From what you could see, he did seem like your type- almost too much so, it almost starting to creep you out how similar this guy looked to He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. You looked away.

“Oh yeah, he is cute,” your other friend said, leaning her elbows back on the bar. “(Y/n), you should pull some moves on him.”

You groaned. “Why are you guys so obsessed with getting me fucked?”

“Because, (y/n). You’re gonna get cobwebs down there if you don’t get your shit clapped soon. Eventually you’re just gonna forget how to fuck altogether,” your friend said, her voice earnest.

“Yeah,” agreed your other friend. “Your vag is gonna close up like a pierced ear when you forget to put in earrings for too long.”

“Three sex on the beaches?” came an amused-sounding voice from behind you, and within the first few syllables of the man’s sentence, you could feel your throat start to close up. You knew that voice anywhere, raspy and rich and warm, even five years since you’d last heard it. But… how? Michael was in California. It had to be some kind of doppleganger working behind the bar. But damn, that was uncanny…

You were almost afraid to turn around, doing so reluctantly, too nervous to care about the fact that you were gnawing all your vampy lipstick off your bottom lip.

“Yeah, that’s ours,” said your friend brightly, accepting her glass, and you decided to rip the band-aid off, forcing your body to turn all the way around.

“So you ladies like sex on the be- (Y/N)?”

Holy ever loving mother of christ. It was him. It was actually. Fucking. Him.

There behind the bar, with plump lips agape and saucer-wide baby-blue eyes, was Michael Langdon, looking almost exactly the same as you remembered. Now, though, most of the baby fat had gone from his face, with one silver earring dangling from his left ear and stubble shadowing his even-more-defined (if that was even possible) jawline. Your mouth went dry, opening and closing as you racked your brain for something to say, heart racing so quickly in your chest you thought you might drop dead at any moment.

“You guys know each other?” your friend asked after several seconds of silence, stretching past you to exchange a glance with your other friend, an immaculately-drawn eyebrow poised in concern.

“Uh- yeah. We, um. Michael, why are you here?” The words didn’t come out exactly the way you’d planned for them to, but his presence had you tongue-tied. In a matter of seconds, you felt like you were eighteen again, broken-hearted and in love and overflowing with red-hot hormones all at once.

“I- (y/n), why are you here?” You could tell that Michael’s lips were beginning to creep into a smirk, and your stomach dipped.

“I just moved to the city,” you said, gripping the edge of the bar and breathing slowly to try and calm yourself. You’d fantasized about finding yourself in this very situation so many sleepless nights before (not that you’d ever admit it), but never had you really expected for something like this to happen. This had to be some sort of profound universe-aligning moment of fate or something, because this was all way too fucking weird to be a coincidence. “I got a job near here. I thought you were in California?”

Michael shook his head with a shrug, sliding your drink across the bar towards you as your friends watched on with quiet fascination. “Haven’t lived there since- damn, has it been three years now? Yeah, I kind of dropped out of college.”

Not really surprising, you thought, relaxing a bit as you lifted your drink to your lips. Michael never had really struck you as a college type.

“So how’d you end up here?” you asked through a wince. The taste of vodka was strong on your tongue even despite the compensating ingredients of your drink, and you still hadn’t managed to get used to the taste of hard liquor even after four years of college.

“Well, I ended up meeting this girl at a party and we became like, boyfriend and girlfriend or whatever,” he said with a half eye-roll, as if he was too cool to admit to something as sensitive as being in a relationship. “But she was in college and I was like, in a band, which didn’t really end up working out, and then she graduated and got a job offer here in the city.”

You licked your lips, picturing Michael as the front man of a rock band, pushing sweaty strands of blond hair back from his forehead as he gripped a microphone with one calloused hand. If only he’d had the talent to match with the look.

“So I was still living with my mom and I needed an excuse to move out, so… I moved with her.” He gave a nonchalant shrug, shirt pulling up slightly at the hem and exposing a sliver of his smooth, firm torso; you were almost ashamed that your mouth began to water.

You tried to ignore the inkling of- jealousy, was it? No, not jealousy, that word was far too harsh for what you were feeling- surrounding the idea that Michael had moved here for a girl, and you went to wash it away with another sip of alcohol. It’d been years. You needed to get over yourself.

“So you live with her now?” you asked coolly, or as coolly as you could manage, looking down into the muddy-organgey abyss of your Sex on the Beach. Your friends, having apparently picked up on the fact that you were in the middle of a very important conversation with a very important person, had taken it upon themselves to join the small crowd surrounding the stage, leaving the two of you alone.

“Fuck no. She ended up fucking my best friend. But I already had this job and I liked the scenery so I stuck around. Wasn’t like there was anything better waiting for me in California.”

You quirked an eyebrow. “Now you know how I felt when you fucked (b/f/n).”

“Oh come on, give me a break. I was eighteen. And she had great tits.” He was leaning forward on his elbow now, resting his chin in the palm of his hand and grinning at you. “Admit it. You were just mad ‘cause you wanted to be the one to get the pipe.”

You snorted, trying not to think too deep into the warm, fuzzy feeling that was starting to flourish in the pit of your stomach and travel up towards your fluttering heart. “Oh, please. I used to fucking hate you.”

“Yeah, but you definitely didn’t hate fucking me,” he said with a wink, pink tongue darting out to wet his full bottom lip. “Though I definitely don’t blame you. I was a huge fuckboy.”

“Was?” you joked, taking another sip. Your eyes fell to a small tattoo on his inner forearm- a simple four-leafed clover, which you secretly thought looked sexy on him.

“Still got that smart mouth, I see,” Michael said, pale eyes glinting with a familiar mischievousness that you hadn’t realized you’d missed until right then. “There must be a lucky guy on the receiving end of all that attitude.”

“Nope,” you said flatly, flipping your hair over your shoulder and leaning forward, perhaps subconsciously hoping for your cleavage to become a bit more pronounced. “Men bore me these days.”

“Men? Or just all men who aren’t me?” He flashed you a devious sideways grin, and your mouth fell open at his boldness. “You’re looking pretty good tonight, baby sis.”

“Hmm. I don’t think that title is quite accurate anymore,” you retorted, hoping he couldn’t tell how flustered his usage of the old pet name had gotten you- apparently he still had that particular talent intact. “But you don’t look so bad yourself.”

“Yeah?” He glanced down at his shirt, which you only just now noticed was stained with some kind of brown liquor. “Not exactly the kind of thing you’d want to be wearing when running into your first love.”

Your heart stirred in your chest, and you could see Michael’s cool smile fade into a panicked wince. First love. You were Michael’s first love.

“First love, huh?” you said softly, tilting your head to one side to regard all of Michael’s handsome features at once. There’d always been some semblance of hope, deep in your belly, that Michael’s feelings for you all those years ago had surpassed simple lust and teenage hormones, but you’d of course had your doubts.

“Well, I mean. Not love, but like. You know.” Michael lifted one hand to scratch the back of his neck, and you could almost swear you saw a dusting of pink cross his porcelain cheeks. “Actually, I mean, yeah. You kind of were my first love. Kinda fucked up that my first love was my stepsister, but…”

“Well, you were my first love too. Unfortunately. You put me through hell, you know that?” You were only half-joking, idly twirling a strand of (h/c) hair around your finger, shifting your weight onto one leg to jut out your hip.

“God, yeah. I know. I suck.” He shook his head, loose waves falling to obscure his hooded eyes, and quickly he tucked it back behind his ears. “I really am sorry, you know.”

You shrugged. “We were just stupid, horny teenagers. It’s all good.”

“Yeah, I mean, but I never really stopped feeling guilty about the way I treated you. You gave me so many chances that I never deserved,” he said, leaning in close so he didn’t have to scream for you to hear him. “You were the perfect girl for me and I took you for granted.”

“Well, like I said…” you paused to take a swig of your drink, nursing your light intoxication, which had affected you to the point where the flavor of alcohol no longer made you cringe. “We were stupid teenagers. And I was very stupid to keep taking you back. Especially after that god awful Applebee’s date.”

He laughed, and your insides warmed at the sound, a light giggle that you only ever reserved for crushes unintentionally passing your lips. Why did this all feel so right?

“Look, I was broke, okay?” He moved in a little closer, crystal blue eyes locked with yours, and for a fleeting moment you thought- or, rather, hoped- that maybe he’d kiss you. Of course, you knew that such a prospect was only wishful thinking, but still you felt a sting of disappointment when he didn’t. “But I can promise you that if I took you out now, it wouldn’t be to Applebee’s.”

You took a second to respond, your clouded mind trying to figure whether or not that’d just been a proposition of sorts. Fuck it. “You might just have to prove that to me.”

“Oh yeah?” He smiled, this time a little softer than his usual devilish smirk. “A girl like you really wants some loser bartender to take her out?”

You cocked your head. “A girl like me?”

“Well, yeah. I mean, look at you.” He sighed, dragging his gaze up and down your body, which you had to admit looked pretty bangin’ in the outfit you’d chosen for tonight. “I mean, it goes without saying that you’re a fuckin’ ten. But you’re also smart. And successful.”

“How do you know I’m successful?” There was a tiny part of you that was eating this up, having the once-big-and-bad Michael Langdon practically crawl at your feet. “I never even told you what I do for a living.”

“I just assumed, since you said you just moved here, and we both know this city ain’t cheap. But I always knew you’d be successful. I mean, you’ve always known how to go after what you want.” he said. “Plus that outfit looks expensive as hell.”

At this, you struck a dramatic pose, having drank enough that you didn’t really care about making yourself look stupid. “Well, I wouldn’t say it was expensive as hell, but it definitely was worth a few paychecks.”

Michael clicked his tongue but chuckled, a longing expression apparent on his sculpted face. “You’re out of my league.”

You scoffed, slurping up the last of your drink. “I don’t believe in leagues. I mean, I pulled you when we were in high school, didn’t I?”

“You were out of my league then, too.”

“Oh, please.” Such a statement was enough to make you laugh out loud, perhaps a bit too loudly, but you thought that might’ve been propelled by the fact that you were pretty damn drunk now. You shoved the now-empty glass towards Michael, settling your hands on your hips. “You were like, the hottest guy in school.”

He raised a brow, a cocky half-smile stretching across his lips. “Oh yeah?”

You hiccuped (you always had been a lightweight). “Duh.”

He rolled his eyes good-naturedly, picking up your glass and bringing it off to the side to be cleaned. When he returned, he was brandishing a bottle of Windex and a stained washcloth, which was draped effortlessly over one broad shoulder. For a reason that could not, for the life of you, be explained, this view of Michael compelled you to squeeze your thighs together.

“You know,” said Michael slowly, spraying the wooden surface of the bar with chemical blue, “it’s kind of creeping me out how weird this all is. Like, us both ending up here. After five years.”

“I know, right?” Your eyes fell onto Michael’s veined hand, gripping the cloth that was now being used to rub down the bar, and you fought back the sudden urge to run your fingers over it. “I mean, it’s like, everything is aligning so perfectly. It has to mean something, doesn’t it?”

“Didn’t we say that to each other? That night on the beach right before our parents split? That if things were meant to work out, they would one day.” He sucked his lips into his mouth, taking in a sharp inhale and letting his head fall back towards the ceiling.

“It’s like everything’s finally fallen into place.” You breathed, allowing the amalgamated scent of liquor and cigarettes and cleaning chemicals to consume you, hips swaying back and forth to the mellow cover song the band was playing, imperfect but beautiful. “We’d be stupid not to try things again.”

“We would, wouldn’t we?” Michael said, tossing the rag off to the side once he’d finished his cleaning, the surface of the bar now so shiny you could practically see your reflection in it. “I promise this time, if you really want to give me a second chance, I won’t fuck things up. I’ll treat you how you should’ve always been treated.”

There was something about the look in his eyes that made you believe him.

From the crowd by the stage came a chorus of voices, most off-key, as they began to sing along to the band’s cover song, which you were certain you’d heard before, but couldn’t quite place when.

And all that is now

“Hey, I love this song,” Michael said suddenly, as if it hadn’t just been playing for the last several minutes, “fuck, this brings me back to high school.”

You wondered if he still chewed cinnamon gum, remembering the sweet spicy scent of his hot breath on your throat, late at night in the back of his cluttered sports car, the dashboard lights illuminating your half-dressed bodies. You wondered if he still played video games with those ridiculous oversize headphones, if he still liked to take midday naps, if he still fell asleep to South Park reruns.

Most of all, though, you wondered about the things you’d never witnessed, all the things you’d missed over the past five years.

And all that is gone

“Do you still chew cinnamon gum?” you asked abruptly, too drunk to worry about whether or not such a question was weird to ask.

He wiggled his eyebrows, reaching into the back pocket of his torn black skinny jeans (god, he’d always looked so good in those) to retrieve a crushed pack of gum, CINNAMON printed in red lettering across the front.

“Hell yeah,” he said, pulling out a piece and tossing it to you. “That shit beats mint by far.”

You unwrapped the gum and popped it in your mouth, immediately flooded with memories the moment you began working into it with your back teeth.

And all that’s to come

He reached out to flip the foil wrapper over, smoothing out its creases before grabbing a black pen from next to the register. You watched through your dreamlike haze as he jotted down a series of numbers in crooked, loopy handwriting, his tongue poking from the corner of his mouth in concentration. Underneath the phone number he wrote something else, in bold capitals, turning the paper around and sliding it towards you with a wry grin.

666-425-0493

LET’S TRY THIS AGAIN

You took the paper, folding it up and shoving it deep into your skirt pocket, inadvertently sinking your teeth into your lower lip. “Maybe I’ll call you sometime, big bro.”

For a fraction of a second, he landed a glance on your chest, lips twitching upwards just slightly at the corners. “Oh, I’ll be posted up until you do.”

“How about another Sex on the Beach?” you said, even though you were drunk enough on Michael’s presence as it was; it felt like you were floating in the blackness of outer space all while rolling with the soft, turning waves of the ocean, and you couldn’t help but want to feel this way forever.

And everything under the sun is in tune

“Coming right up, ma’am,” came Michael’s teasing reply, making you squirm; your eyes fell shut as you allowed the band’s blaring drum and bass to swallow you whole, swaying aimlessly to the rhythm, your head lolling back and forth.

The music was loud enough to drown out your thoughts, and the sound only increased as the song came to its powerful end, your teeth chattering with adrenaline as an electric chill made its way up your spine.

But the sun is eclipsed by the moon

When you opened your eyes, Michael was back in front of you, and all but the colorful overhead lights had dimmed; the entire bar was potent with color, Michael’s angular features appearing so much softer now, cast with bright purple, then blue, then a shade of pink so vivid it looked almost otherworldly.

Your eyes connected with his for what must’ve been the thousandth time in all the months you’d known him, but you felt, deep in your bones, that this was really only the first.

You had a good feeling about this.

#michael langdon #michael langdon x reader #michael langdon smut #cody fern #american horror stoy #ahs apocalypse #apocalypse #high school au #ahs smut #ahs fanfic #michael langdon fanfiction #michael langdon fanfic #ahs fanfiction #mine

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tilltheendwilliwrite · 6 years

Text

Of Blood and Roses*

Chapter One

Sequel to Balance on the head of a Pin

Pairing: Loki Odinson X Lauren | Word Count: 7590 Warnings: Fluff, smut, NSFW

There was a wrenching feeling like her stomach was trying to lead the way to wherever it was they were going. Pain from the blow to her head had Lauren moaning in distress.

“Almost there, darling. A few seconds more.”

The voice seemed to come from very far away, but she curled into it, desperate to keep her stomach from succeeding in leaving her body. When it all came to a halt, Lauren gave a hard gasp and prayed not to vomit.

Softness pressed to her lips, then cool, soothing magic slipped down her throat and settled everything, letting her stomach return to its original location.

When his mouth lifted, Lauren kept her eyes closed but smiled until the cut in her mouth pulled and murmured, “Loki…”

***

Knelt to a knee on the golden floor of the observatory dome, Loki cradled Lauren to him and gently touched her cheek. “Can you open your eyes, my love?”

“Head hurts,” she whimpered.

“I know, darling. I will take care of everything once were are in the palace. Once I know you are safe.” Still, he traced his fingers over the bruises, numbing her skin.

She relaxed again, slipping back into the semi-conscious state she’d been in when they left Midgard.

“Loki,” Thor murmured. “She would not want to be seen in such a state, and you have her blood on your face.”

Loki cared not about the blood on his face, but his brother was not wrong. Lauren would hate if the first impression people had of her was one of her less than immaculate. Not because she was vain, mind you, but because she would want to put her best foot forward. He pulled the cape from his back and draped it over her.

“Why not just use your magic and clean her up as you are want to?” Thor asked.

“Because,” Heimdall answered before Loki could, “he intends to take her to the pools.”

Loki only smirked at the observant Guardian, but Thor chuckled, patting Loki’s shoulder when he got to his feet. “Ah. I should have guessed. You are smart to do so.”

“I would have done so even had she not been injured. It will accelerate her conversion, bringing her further into our world and closer to her true self.” Loki made certain his cape covered her adequately, cradled her close, and brought her bruised cheek to his chest.

“I called for them to bring horses,” Heimdall murmured.

Loki glanced at the big male in the golden armour. There was compassion in his eyes and soft affection when he looked at Lauren. “Thank you, Guardian.”

“No poofing?” Thor waved his hand.

“You saw the trauma the magic of the Bifröst caused. Until she is fully healed, I dare not risk it.” Loki brushed her unmarked cheek. “He struck her so hard. I fear there is damage to her head I am not seeing. Until I can take her to the healing pools, I will not do more than primary care.”

Hoofbeats racing down the bridge had Loki’s head snapping up. There were far more than needed, and a low warning growl rumbled in his chest.

“Loki.” Thor held up his hand and peered at him quizzically. “We are home. There is no danger here.”

He relaxed but only a little when the four people strode into the observatory. The Warriors Three and Lady Sif. He should have suspected.

“My King!” they cried out together and rushed toward Thor only to jolt to a stop when Loki stepped back.

Holding Lauren tightly to him, he summoned his staff to his right hand. Edgy and defensive, Loki took a second step in retreat and brought the weapon to bear.

“Loki. Brother.” Thor let his hammer drop to the ground. “No one here wishes your Lady any harm.”

“There has been trouble,” Hogun murmured. “Should we call a healer?”

“I can heal my own,” Loki snarled.

“Of course, my prince,” Heimdall said softly, moving to stand with Loki. “Hogun meant no insult.”

Loki looked to Heimdall, to the golden eyes which saw much, and found understanding. “I am… uncertain,” he said so only Heimdall would hear him.

“You are bonded all of a day. That you are wary of those powerful enough to harm your Lady when she has, already, seen harm is not an oddity. Come.” Heimdall motioned toward the door with his sword. “I will see you to your horse. Then, you can see to your wife.”

The three warriors exchange a look of incredulity at the word wife.

“It’s not… possible,” whispered Fandral.

“The binding is finished? Already?” Volstagg asked, looking at Thor.

“Just. Last eve she took the final step,” Thor smiled fondly at Lauren. “She is a remarkable woman.”

Loki ignored them all, moving when Heimdall did, keeping the Guardian between himself and the others. Lauren whimpered, the pain in her side beginning to throb through their bond. Her brow furrowed, and she mewled a sound of distress.

“Thor!” Loki snapped, striding purposefully toward the doorway and vanishing his staff. “We must go!”

“Take my mount,” Sif said, appearing on the opposite side of Heimdall. “He has the smoothest gait and won’t jar the Lady Lauren.” She motioned to the chestnut with the four white socks.

With a nod, Loki transferred Lauren to Thor’s arms and stepped astride Sif’s gelding. The horse shifted restlessly, but Sif was there to keep him calm. Thor transferred her back, but Loki’s cape slipped, revealing the blood which had dried on her throat and caked the torque around her neck.

The four gasped, but it was Sif who placed her hand on his boot. “Tell me they are dead.”

“There was no other outcome for the ones who hurt her.” Loki gently tucked his cape around Lauren’s shoulder and brought her close to him.

Sif nodded before swinging into the saddle of a big white mare. The Warriors Three mounted around them, and Thor swung astride another gelding at his side.

Loki focused on Heimdall, the Guardian standing in the doorway, and gave him a nod of thanks. “Heimdall.”

“Welcome home, Prince,” Heimdall said and tilted his head.

“Sif,” Loki murmured, turning her gelding to face the city. “My Ástvinur has shown me the error of my youthful misdeeds. I sincerely apologize for taking your hair.”

Her eyes widened, and her mouth dropped open in shock, but she nodded slowly. “Thank you… prince.”

“My dear, Sif,” Loki smirked. “When have you ever called me prince?” Without waiting, he set his heels to the gelding’s sides and took off down the bridge at a gallop.

As expressed, he had quite a smooth gate, the gelding, but when each hoof connected with the ground, it sent vibration through the horse’s frame and caused Lauren to flinch.

Loki sent a wisp of green magic tumbling around the equine’s hooves and between one beat and the next, all sound ended as he began to run an inch above the surface.

The gelding’s ears flicked, and he snorted, a large dark eye rolling back to look at Loki.

“Easy. You are fine,” Loki murmured to the horse. “Just run for me.”

He snorted again and stretched out, his strides lengthening as they ate up the ground.

Loki released the reins, allowing the horse to do his job, and lifted his now free hand to Lauren’s cheek. “My heart,” he murmured, stroking her face. “Open your eyes, my heart.”

“Loki,” she whimpered.

“We are on the rainbow bridge, my darling. Do you not want to see it?”

Her lashes fluttered open, but before she could look down and likely grow dizzy from their speed, he turned her chin to look toward the city.

“Oh my… stars,” she whispered, the wind nearly stealing her words. “How beautiful.”

“Welcome home, beloved.” He gently kissed her temple and let the wind wisk the tears from his eyes long before they could fall.

Her head tilted back on his shoulder to peer up at the sky. “Amazin’. It’s just like you showed me.” A smile curled her lips but her lashes fluttered closed, and she drifted again.

“We are almost there, my heart. Soon you will be well, and then we can rest.” The sun had not yet crested the world, dawn a few hours yet from breaking, so when the gelding left the bridge to race through the streets of the city and climb his way toward the palace, there were few to see their arrival.

At one time, he would have been put out by such a homecoming. No fanfare. No pomp. No revelry. No joyful shouting or flowers spilled at his feet. At one time, nothing would have satisfied him more than returning home as the saviour of Asgard. As the prince worthy of both throne and exaltation.

Today, he could not have cared less that no one witnessed his return. His mind had a singular focus. A singular task. Nothing and no one mattered but seeing Lauren reached the healing pools beneath the palace.

The twisting maze of streets fell away behind him as his steed ran without flattering. Once the initial shock had worn off, it appeared Sif’s mount enjoyed the lack of sound created by his airborne hooves.

He put quite a bit of distance between himself and the others, leaving Thor to his escort. But Loki felt better without others too near.

Perhaps Heimdall was correct. Maybe it was the newness of the binding and the injuries Lauren had received which made him anxious. Still, he could not shake the feral feeling welling inside him. The need to protect, provide, and claim was overwhelming as if the instincts of the wolf he’d worn had not faded when his body had resumed its human shape.

Something about it seemed… different, but Loki could not put his finger on the how.

He pushed the thoughts aside when he arrived at the steps to the palace, and the gelding slowed to a halt, his feet gradually returning to the ground. The guards on duty came to attention, his helmet and horns hard to mistake.

Loki threw his leg over the horse’s neck and dropped lightly to the ground. “Thank you, swift one,” he murmured to the horse. It wickered and walked off toward the stables, blowing only a little.

He could not wait for Lauren to be well. She would adore them, the horses of Asgard. They could run for hours and never tire. Jump heights unimagined by humans. He would take her to the barns and let her choose her own. A mare, perhaps. Something with spirit but without the bullheadedness of the males.

“Prince Loki.” The two approaching guards drew his attention. “We were not aware of your return.”

“Have things changed so much I am required to announce my comings and goings?” he snapped. “Remove yourselves from my path. My Ástvinur requires my attention.”

They had drawn close enough to catch sight of the blood on his face, but Lauren was well covered with her bruises hidden against his chest.

Still, they asked, “Do… you require a healer, highness?”

“I do not.” He walked past them, continuing up the stairs and through the high doors of the entrance hall.

A clatter behind him announced the arrival of the others, but he was already striding away through the Hall of the Ancients. A voice called to him from the shadows, but Loki paid it no heed, continuing on past the early risen servants when a familiar face caught his eye.

“Selvina,” he called out to the woman who had been housekeeper to the palace for as long as he could remember.

“Prince Loki!” she gasped and curtsied deeply. “We did not expect you back yet. The King was going to send word so we could prepare for your arrival.”

Loki stepped beyond the shadows yet blanketing the hall. “Expectations changed when they tried to take what is mine,” he growled softly.

She inhaled sharply, her eyes darting to the blood on his face, then down to the woman cradled in his arms. “I… I will see your rooms prepared at once.”

“Thank you, Selvina. Lauren and I will be in the caverns.”

“Oh, the poor dear. Will she be alright?”

Loki looked down at Lauren, at the dark bruises of fatigue beneath her eyes. “She will be. See food and mead are also waiting. We will return in one hour.”

“Yes, my lord.” She bowed again as he walked away, heading for the stairwell which would lead down into the caverns where the healing pools waited.

“Loki.”

He stopped. “Now is not a good time, Father.”

“How badly is she injured?” Odin asked, stepping into the corridor at Loki’s back.

“I have taken care of what I could be certain of. She took a blow to the head and when we travelled the Bifröst it… hurt her.”

“I see. You know which pool to use?” Odin asked, moving closer.

“I remember my lessons,” he snarled. “I am not some child.”

“You are still my child,” Odin murmured. “You have said so yourself.”

Loki looked at the ceiling and sighed in resignation. “I was a son of Odin for many years, but there are also many harsh words and harmful actions between us. This is not the time to discuss reconciliation, Father.”

“You are correct, of course. Might I at least… see her?”

Odin took another step closer, and Loki turned his head to see his father over his shoulder. “Not now. It would… distress her to have anyone see her so.”

“I care not for the nature of her dishevelment,” Odin scoffed. “I wish only to see the woman who will save my son.”

“And so you shall. After she is healed.” Loki walked on, avoiding any more arguments. He would not allow anything but the most favourable first impression. She was his wife and a Princess of Asgard. Already rumours would fly to become fodder for the masses of how he arrived here, bloodied, wearing his battle gear, with his unconscious Ástvinur in his arms and gone straight to the pools.

People would judge him for losing her, for having her stolen out from underneath his nose, but once they met her, saw her, grew to know her, they would see how special and lovely and unique she was. They would no longer be surprised someone had tried to take her from him. It should be no surprise they failed.

Two guards stood watch at the entrance to the caverns. They straightened but made no move to stop or question him. He was their prince once more and went where he wanted when he wanted.

Soft lights flared one by one as he descended into the moist heat of the cavern. While these pools, hot springs really, were for private use by the royal family, they did drain together into one giant mineral spring which was available for the public to use at will.

Bathing in the water of the combined pools would cure much of what ailed one, but the two pools beneath the palace were unique. Each worked in its own mysterious way. One healed the body. One restored magic. Both trickled over into a waterfall which drained out through stone, mixing and diluting the waters with runoff from the underground springs until they became the healing spring for the city.

His Father believed he was only here for the first, but he would lead Lauren through both before he took her to their chambers. Odin was not yet aware of Lauren’s state as his bonded or he would not have questioned Loki’s choice of pool. Had she still been of Midgard, allowing her to bathe in the waters of magic could have been dangerous, but as she was now of Asgard, the waters would only bring her closer to her true self.

Her radiant beauty would shine for all to see.

He paused at the base of the stairs and breathed deeply of the mineral scents and warmth, the musty cave smell which would last forever. A flick of his finger sealed the doorway to keep out would be intruders. Another shed him of his clothes. A third had a handful of candles flickering on a rock outcropping.

Loki let his cape fall to the rock and walked into the water with Lauren still fully clothed. She hissed when her feet came in contact with the warmth, then whimpered when he sank deeper still, making his way across the sandy bottom until he was chest deep and Lauren floated in his gentle hold.

He cupped and poured handfuls of the water over her damaged cheek, tenderly stroked wet fingers over her blackened eye, watching as the bruises faded away. He freed her hair and washed the blood from her throat. The water glowed softly, a milky white which hid much of her from view, and he continued to card his fingers through her hair, letting the water work until her lashes fluttered open.

“Loki?”

He smiled and cupped her cheek. “Welcome back, my heart.”

“Where… where are we?” she asked, allowing her feet to fall down until she found the sandy bottom. “What is this place?”

“The Pools of Neth,” he murmured, stroking her wet hair back from her face. “You were injured, my love. I feared more severely than I could fix. So I brought you home. To Asgard.”

“So… I didn’t dream the bridge or the city?” Her gaze dropped to his bare chest, and her hands soon followed.

“No, darling.” His body stirred with her tender touch.

“And the water is really glowin’ like a lit up milk bath?”

He chuckled at her description. “It is.”

“Is there a reason I’m still dressed?”

He waved his hand, and she wasn’t. “Your reaction to the magic of the Bifrost concerned me. Often, a head wound can be hard to detect, even for me, but can make one sick when such powerful magic is used. I would have had to take you to an actual healer or bring you here, to be certain of your recovery. I chose here.” He cupped her face and bent to kiss her hungrily before sweeping Lauren off her feet and heading for the pool’s edge.

“Loki,” she moaned and buried her face in his throat.

“I am only switching pools, my love. Then I will return to what I started.” He walked from the water and up a gentle incline to find the smaller of the two pools. Here the water was a soft lavender, warmer than the first, and at its deepest came to his shoulders. Stepping down into it, he felt the surge of renewing strength begin to flow through his veins.

Lauren groaned in delight and threw her head back. “Oh… wow…”

“The first pool was for healing the body. But this one renews magic and the heart of an Asgardian. Being in it will speed your conversion. You will grow stronger, faster, become harder to injure,” he whispered and delicately touched her throat. “You will heal with a swiftness not known to man. Your beauty will know no limits. You shall be a goddess. My goddess,” he crooned, pulling her out in the pool with him until she had to cling to him to stay afloat.

Her arms went around his neck. Her breasts flattened against his chest. Her thighs brushed against his, and he knew she could feel his arousal. “Once you are fully of Asgard, I will worry less about silly things like shoving at guns,” he scolded.

“It seemed like a good idea at the time,” she muttered.

“Most definitely not,” Loki grumbled but kissed the tip of her nose. He took his hands over her back and down her side, trailing his fingertips over the place where she'd been wounded. “You terrified me today. Watching the blood soak into your dress.” He nuzzled his nose beneath her chin. “Watching it run down your throat… It was terrifying, Lauren.”

She tilted her chin back and tightened her hold, almost purring when he kissed a path along her jaw to suck lightly at her pulse. “I wasn't scared. I knew you'd come. I heard you howl and it was like all my fear melted away.”

“You were rather calm,” he murmured, nipping her ear. “Even bloodied and bruised you were... magnificent. Still,” he sank his fingers into her hair and pulled her head back to see her heavy-lidded eyes, “I’d prefer you not do it again.”

“So would I. Loki… I feel…” She shuddered, and her eyes gleamed with his magic.

“How do you feel?” he whispered and bit at her jaw.

“Warm and… like somethin’ is strokin’ my nerves.”

He jacked her up to bring his mouth to her breasts and began to lap at them slowly, biting gently to make her nipples harden. “It’s the magic flowing through your veins. Exquisite, isn’t it?”

“Oh… god…” she moaned. Her legs lifted to wrap around his waist and her scorching hot core came to rest against his hard cock.

Loki growled and dropped her down to take her mouth, kissing her hungrily again as he moved them through the water to the edge where he pressed her back against the smooth basin and began to rock his hips into her. “The water enhances your senses. It sends its magic bubbling up inside you like a geyser until it crests and pours back out. Those who are truly powerful can spend much time soaking in the waters. Those whose magic is less need only minutes before it becomes too intense. Shall we test your limits, darling? Shall we see how strong you are?”

“Loki,” she whimpered, burying her hands in his hair. “It feels so good.”

He grinned at the flush forming on her face. “The water, pet?” He rocked his hips into her core and adored her shudder. “Or is it something else you are speaking of?”

She opened her eyes enough to show him the gleam of green emeralds. “Both.”

Loki growled excitedly. “My little minx. Are you trying to seduce me?”

Her lids lifted a little more, and she smiled a curl of lips so sultry it stole his breath. “I assure you, sir. I don’t need to try.”

“No. You certainly do not,” Loki murmured, nipping his teeth into her bottom lip before pulling her from the wall to lift her up and sit her on the ledge.

Her body gleamed, sheets of lavender water cascading back into the pool and splashing over Loki’s chest. Her hands were on his shoulders, his held her waist, gentle but firm. He stepped between her knees, nudging them apart, and brought his hand up to caress her side. The tender touch made her giggle, but he paid it little mind, needing to be assured she was whole from the wound she’d taken.

“Loki.” Lauren cupped his cheeks and lifted his chin. She smiled when their gazes locked. “I’m fine. I promise. I feel… really, really good actually. Really good.”

“Really good, darling?” He smirked up at her. “Are you certain you could not feel… better?”

Her feet and lower legs dangled in the water still, keeping her connected to the pool’s magic, but Loki pressed her knees further apart. The slow glide of his fingers up her thighs had her panting and quaking, her desire growing to connect them through his heart stone, the torque a shining adornment around her throat.

“I’m pretty sure I could feel better,” Lauren sighed, carding her fingers through his hair when he began to press sucking kisses to her abdomen.

“Oh, I know you could,” he chuckled and dragged his tongue over her serpents. He delved lower, licked and nipped and sucked at her thighs. Her scent flourished to mix with the minerals in the air, and it was heavenly. “You smell divine, my love.”

He looked up, watched her face as he nudged her closer to the edge of the pool, and slicked his tongue up her core. Her breath burst out on a moan and a shudder and her hands clenched in his hair, but Loki was lost to the taste of her. Too intent on forcing more of those sultry little moans from her lips, he paid the sharp tugging of his scalp no mind.

He licked at the ambrosia flowing from her, savouring every drop as her cries grew louder, and the tension of her core grew tighter. She moaned, and it echoed, making him chuckle when embarrassment fluttered in his heart stone.

“Don’t laugh!” she scolded only to jolt when he brought his hand to her slick folds and pressed his fingers deep.

“I like laughing with you, pet.” He stroked his fingers through her walls and curled them up into the special spot inside her. She gasped, and he grinned. “But I like making you moan as well. Will you come for me, love? Come apart on my fingers so that I can bring you back into this pool and have you come apart on my cock.”

“God, Loki!” she cried out, then mewled like a kitten when he caught the hard berry of her nipple between his lips and worried it with his teeth. “Enough!” she choked, dragging his head back by his hair. “I just want you, peaches!”

She kicked off the ledge, falling into his arms, and nearly sending them both under when he stumbled backward.

“Lauren,” he murmured, locking his arm around her waist to keep her still when she fought to bring her legs around him. “Wait.”

“No. I want you,” she whined and took her teeth to his throat.

“Dammit, woman! You'll have me in a moment! For one bloody second will you look at me?” he barked.

She jerked back in shock. “Loki!”

Hurt laced her voice. “I'm sorry, my love, but I need you to look at me,” he murmured and cupped her cheek.

What was that? He frowned as he peered into her eyes.

“What? What's wrong?” she asked.

“There is a spark… or…. I thought there was,” he frowned and stroked her cheek. “Whatever was there is gone now.” But he was certain he’d seen something.

“A spark of… of what?” she asked, sounding concerned.

He smiled for he didn't want her to worry. “Of magic, darling.”

She gave a bark of disbelief. “Uh huh.”

Unwilling to argue with her, Loki changed the subject. “Perhaps we should take this back to our room where I can make love to you properly?”

“Because you're so concerned with proper,” Lauren teased and wrapped him in her thighs. “Please, Loki. Valhalla is callin’. The water feels… delicious. Take me now,” she whispered, licking his mouth before moving down to slick her tongue over the moisture on his chest.

“You're going to be the death of me, woman,” he growled but gave in, shifting his hold to her ass. He lifted her up, notched his head against her opening, and slowly sank her down his cock.

She moaned at the stretch, her forehead coming to rest against his. “God… every time,” she whimpered. “I love it.”

“You fit me so well, my heart,” he murmured, beginning to rock her gently.

Gentle went out the window the moment she moaned, “Harder.”

Tight walls gripped him with every stroke, fluttered and quaked as he took her hard and fast, standing in the middle of the pool. The magic bubbling in his veins became an intoxicating counterpoint to the singing lust and desire.

Sweat beaded on his brow and dripped from his chin, the heat of the pool nothing compared to what was slamming through his body with every upward thrust of his cock.

Lauren wrapped her arms around him, bringing them as close as possible, causing their bodies to slide together. He could feel the hard points of her nipples drag on his chest. Her nails dug into his back when the pleasure became too much, and she screamed her release, the wave of ecstasy riding her body along with the magic from the pool.

Her body reacted so forcefully, Loki was helpless but to follow, roaring out his own climax when the magic surged back through him.

Gasping for air, he stumbled through the water to grab the pool’s edge and cling to it while Lauren hung limply against his chest.

“Damn…” she breathed against his throat and made him shiver

His body stirred with renewed life and the desire to have her again, causing her sheath to spasm and grip him, doing nothing but stirring the cycle all over. “Woman,” he growled softly when she snorted a giggle. “If you are so insatiable, I'd prefer to hold round two on a flat surface where I will not drown when you wear me out.”

“I wear you out?” she teased, her amusement practically humming on the air. “Who was the one comin’ here for recovery purposes, hm?”

Loki chuckled and grinned at her smile, but when her lashes lifted, his heart skipped a beat. The spark was back but had become a swirl of violet twisting with the green of his magic. She blinked, her lashes brushing the flush on her cheeks brought on by the heat of the pool. Then, they lifted and whatever had been there was gone.

“Loki?” she frowned up at him.

“I am simply astounded by your beauty,” he murmured and it was no lie. The pool had done exactly what he’d wanted it to. “Look at you sparkle.” He took her by the waist, swept her into his arms, and walked out of the pool.

Lauren laughed and threw her arms around him, bussing a kissed to his cheek. “Flirt.”

“Is it flirting when it is the truth?” he asked, letting her body slide to the ground.

Once she was stable, Loki stepped back and waved his hand, producing a full-length mirror. “Look, my darling.” He glided around behind her and pressed himself to her spine. “You are stunning.”

She gave a soft gasp and brought a hand to her lips. “What…? How?”

He stroked his hand up her creamy, soft skin and cupped her breast. The light glow she’d had after finishing their bond had become a radiance, a golden luminescence. He’d dried her hair, and it fell in waves and curls down her back to her waist. Her face had thinned but only a little, sharpening her cheekbones and jawline even further.

His fingers continued upward to circle around her throat and tilt her head for his lips to walk the line of her jaw. “You bathed in the Waters of Neth. Now, now you are much closer to your true self. You are as you would be had you been born of Asgard. Only a little different, an enhancement of your beauty.” He brushed his fingers on her thigh, needing to touch her for she was just so incredibly soft.

Lauren let her head fall back on his shoulder, nearly purring in pleasure. “Y’all keep touchin’ me like that, we may as well just get back in the water,” she teased, sliding her hands behind her to grip his hips.

“I am considering it,” he murmured, kissing her pulse point.

“Or…” she moaned, “you could show me a little of the palace. Like… the corridors which lead to your rooms?”

She pressed her ass back into his cock with a wiggle that had him gasping for breath. “Minx!” he groaned.

“Not sayin’ I don’t like it down here.” She took in the cavern with its soft glowing lights, luminescent waters, and sparkling roof full of silver flecks. “But… I would like to see somethin’ of the place you grew up in.”

“Would you, now?” he crooned before sinking his teeth gently into her shoulder. “You wish to sightsee instead of staying right here with me?”

“Well, I did say on the way to your room,” she snickered.

“Our. Our chambers, my heart. What is mine is now yours.” He released her slowly, moved around to stand before her and sighed. “Such a pity to cover such perfection.”

“Oh, hush!” she huffed and blushed.

Loki chuckled, but waved a hand and garbed himself in the long day coat he preferred, rather than the armour and cape he had been wearing. “Now you, my love. Whatever shall we put you in, hm?”

“You’re the fashionista, peaches. I’m just the mannequin.”

“And a most fetching mannequin you are.” He stepped forward, placed a gentle kiss on her lips, and let his magic flow, wrapping her in it until he was certain she would be utterly exquisite in the gown he’d created. “There,” he smiled. “Befitting the newest Princess of Asgard.”

Her eyes darted to his, but she made no protest, only glanced toward the mirror and froze. “Oh, my stars!”

She pressed her hands to her waist, to the white fabric and its wide golden belt. The dress, a simple v-neck which showed off her torque, was unadorned except for the belt bearing his symbol in twisted coils and knots, and the clusters of intricate flowers created in gold which capped her shoulders and held her cape in position. It descended in a v part way down her back where a small clasp appeared, both ornamental and to keep her cape from dragging too far behind her. He’d returned Frigga’s bracers to her wrists, the circlet to her brow, and highlighted her features with smoky eyes and her lush, wet mouth. He’d created tiny braids, wrapped them in beads of gold, and left them to catch in the curls he’d tightened in her hair, sweeping half up in her customary tail, while leaving the lower mass to rest on her shoulders and stream down her spine.

“By the Norns, I want to kiss your mouth until all that shine is worn off,” he growled.

She smirked at him coyly. “When we get where we’re goin’, I just might let you.”

A rumble of hunger left him, and Loki collected her hand, leading her carefully toward the stairs out of the cavern. He flicked a finger at his cape, making it vanish, and a hand at the candles before assisting her up the stairs.

Winding they were, but they did not take long to climb in her enthusiasm. The toes of her boots were silent on the stones, but without hesitation until they reached the turn which showed the exit and she paused.

“I’m… really nervous,” she whispered when he frowned down at her.

He knew, of course, how could he not, but Loki cupped her cheeks. “You have nothing to be nervous about. You will do amazing here. I have complete faith in you,” he whispered and kissed the end of her nose instead of messing up her lips.

With a little tug, she started forward again, and he led her out into the hall past the two guards on duty. Both snapped to attention, causing their armour and weapons to resound at her back, and sent Lauren scurrying forward to cling to his arm and turn to see what had made the noise.

“Goodness! Y’all gave me such a fright!” she half scolded, half laughed.

Loki watched the mouths of both men fall open in awe and just managed to contain his laughter. Collecting Lauren’s hand, he brought it to his lips and kissed her knuckles. “As Thor has so recently reminded me, none who call the palace home would ever dare harm you, elskan min. Even if they do make a ruckus.” He smirked at the men as he tucked Lauren’s hand in his elbow and led her away. “Their current posting has them guarding the caves. A most boring posting to be sure as we rarely use it.”

“With how good I feel, I’d think y’all would be down there more often,” she murmured, but her attention was elsewhere, taking in the coffered ceilings, the detailed panelling on the walls, and the heavily carved doors and doorways. “Loki… this is incredible!”

She stopped before an open doorway, but only so she could reach out and touch the animals etched in the wood. “It’s so beautiful.”

“One could say the same of you, little sister,” Thor chuckled, appearing in the doorway. “White. Why am I not surprised?” Thor teased. “It is good to see you well. Come!” He clasped Loki by the shoulder and tugged. “Now that you are healed, there are introductions to be made.”

Loki resisted. “Thor, can this not wait? It was late when we left Midgard and dawn is but hours away. She is fresh from the pools but will grow weary soon enough.”

“You’re doin’ that thing again,” Lauren said.

“What thing, darling?” Loki asked.

“That thing where you talk about me like I’m not standin’ right here. Don’t make me tweak your ear again.”

It was not quite a glare she levelled his way, but it was close enough. “I simply do not wish to wear you out, my heart. It has been a long, emotional day. Introductions could wait.”

She smiled at him, that smile, the sweet one that always saw her getting her way. Then she brought her hand to his face and stroked his jaw, and he knew he was lost. She could have whatever she wanted.

“Elskan min,” she purred. “I wouldn’t want to be rude. Just a few minutes? Please?”

He sighed but nodded, glared at Thor, and stepped past his brother into the room, finding precisely who he’d expected to. Though it annoyed him, this deviation of his plans, Loki didn't feel the need to draw weapons to keep people away from her this time.

Volstagg smirked from where he was sat, bent over a half-finished carcass. “What happened to the unyielding God of Mischief? How easy you give in to your woman!” he laughed, causing Hogun to smile, while Fandral, lounging with one leg thrown over the arm of his chair, laughed along with him.

Sif only arched a brow, her demeanour stern but curious from her place beside the fire.

“Have a care how you speak to my brother, Volstagg. Especially as his bonded Ástvinur has been known to be quite vocal in his defense.”

“He’s not wrong,” Lauren said as she stepped out from behind Loki, allowing the four their first real look at the Princess of Asgard.

There was a beat of silence before the mad scramble began. Volstagg stood so swiftly, he nearly turned over the table. Hogun was quick to right it. Fandral tried to exit his chair only to come close to falling on his face in the process.

He was the first to cross the room, coming to a stop when he was a few feet away to offer Lauren a sweeping bow.

Her hand had wrapped around Loki’s elbow, and she’d stepped into him with the first explosion of movement, seeking safety in his shadow when their action disconcerted her.

“Highness,” Fandral crooned, glanced at Loki, and offered his hand. “You are fairer than the softest spring day. I dare say you are more radiant than the moon at its apex. I am honoured to make your acquaintance.”

Lauren blinked at him, a blush rising high in her cheeks when she looked up at Loki.

“Fandral, beloved. One of the Warrior’s Three and Thor’s companion,” Loki supplied.

“Oh!” Her eyes widened in understanding. Mischief blossomed in their green depths, and she smirked up at him for a moment before focusing her attention on Fandral and offering her hand.

He was quick to accept, but before he could actually kiss the back of her hand, she struck.

“Hm. The women of Asgard really are blind. Pretty enough, but I much prefer my brooding dark God,” she murmured softly, in a voice so sweet one could not take insult from it.

Fandral’s head whipped up in shock, his eyes enormous. He stared aghast at Lauren who continued to smile and blink at him with her big doe eyes until Fandral threw his head back and laughed.

“She is definitely a match for the God of Mischief!” he crowed, giving back her hand.

Lauren giggled, Thor’s laughter boomed, and the others joined in, leaving only Sif standing alone.

Loki magicked a cloth for Volstagg before he offered Lauren his hand, allowing Hogun to beat him to it.

“Hogun, highness.” He bowed over her hand.

“Hogun’s hound Ming is the mother of Usun,” Loki murmured, causing Lauren to look at him sharply.

“Really?” she whispered. When he nodded, she turned back to Hogun and threw her arms around the startled man. “Thank you! Thank you so much! Y’all don’t know how much they need him!”

“Lauren, darling. You’ve quite thrown poor Hogun off his game,” Loki chuckled as the man looked at him frantically. “She’s a bit of a hugger.”

“Hush, you!” Lauren huffed, pulling away, her cheeks now quite red. “Usun is a blessin’. You may have thought of him, and Thor may have brought him, but I’m sure Hogun had somethin’ to do with bringin’ him up! Until we can get the kids away from her, he’s their last line of defence!”

Worry instantly filled the heart stone, and Loki cupped her face between his palms. “They are alright, my heart. The others will inform Maria and she will be certain to keep an eye on them. Do you trust me, my love?”

“In everythin’, Loki,” she whispered.

“Then trust me now. I will let nothing happen to the children. Nothing!” he vowed.

“What children?” Volstagg asked.

“Lauren’s niece and nephew are… in an unpleasant situation,” Thor murmured. “One which would not stand on Asgard.”

“Rescue mission?” Volstagg’s eyes lit up.

“Not at this time,” Loki murmured, caressing Lauren’s cheek. “Breathe, my love. I promise they are protected.”

“Okay,” she sighed. “I just… worry.”

“I know. Let us continue the introductions so you can then rest. The portly one is Volstagg.”

“I beg your pardon!” Volstagg pounded a fist to his large midsection. “Tis all muscle!”

“A man with a hearty appetite is appreciated where I come from. Us southerners like to eat, after all,” Lauren offered kindly.

“You are as sweet on the inside as you are lovely on the outside, highness,” Volstagg said, his smile lifting the corners of his moustache.

Lauren blushed and tightened her hold on Loki's arm. “I wish y’all would just call me Lauren. If he can be Thor to everyone, can't I just be Lauren?”

“I'm afraid my love’s title is still a touch… unsettling to her,” Loki said smiling down at Lauren. “But if that is what you wish, darling, I see no harm in it amongst Thor's companions.”

“Because I need your permission to request such a thing?” she scoffed, and Volstagg snickered.

“Mm. I shall reserve the right not to answer loaded questions like that one.” Loki chuckled, collected Lauren’s arm, and moved past the three men and his brother to approach Sif before the fire. “Lady Sif,” Loki smirked. “Meet my Ástvinur, Lauren before I succeed in saying something else foolish.”

“See? You can teach an old dog new tricks,” Lauren teased before turning to Sif.

“I remember you,” Sif murmured and nodded her head. “We met once before.”

“Mostly in passin’, not really an introduction when Thor wanders by and points me out before carryin’ on without so much as a hello,” Lauren laughed. “But I’m ever so pleased to finally meet you. Thor talks about you so much, I can’t help but admire a woman like you.”

Sif looked taken aback before a rather shy smile spread. “He talks about you, too. The woman who tamed the God of Mischief.”

“I wouldn’t call him tame,” Lauren snickered, glancing up at Loki. “Housebroken, maybe?”

“Teasing wench!” Loki gasped and bared his teeth in a snarl. “Watch it, woman.”

“My what big teeth you have,” she quipped.

“I’ll show you teeth,” he growled, snaking his arm around her waist to pull her in and nip into her bottom lip.

Lauren smacked his chest. “Behave you big oaf!”

“Big oaf? I bring you all the way to Asgard, and this is the thanks I get,” he huffed, feigning hurt.

Her brow arched. “Mmm hmm. And what of Asgard have I seen? Caves, walls, and a single room.”

He pulled her in tighter and lowered his head. “Did I not show you the rainbow bridge? A view of the city? Pleasure unimaginable?”

“Loki!” Lauren gasped, her face flushing crimson. “Such a cad.”

“Ah, yes. But I am your cad,” he grinned, brushing their noses together.

“And a terrible tease,” she grumbled but buried her hands in his hair.

“Mmm,” he hummed against her lips. “But a fantastic flirt,” he whispered and kissed her deeply.

“Does this happen a lot?” Sif asked.

Thor snickered. “Yes. They lose themselves in each other, and the world disappears around them.”

“Incredible,” breathed Fandral.

“The bond is solid,” Hogun murmured.

“Have you tried this boar? I swear the meat is succulent as hell!” Volstagg stated.

Loki broke the kiss to lift his head and peer down into Lauren's eyes. A sea of green gazed back, and he smiled. “I swear, nothing here changes,” he murmured for her alone. “It is good to be home.”

Next Chapter

#Blood and Roses #loki #Loki Laufeyson #loki fanfiction #loki laufeyson fanfiction #asgard #thor #thor odinson #god of thunder #southern belle #avengers au

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tilltheendwilliwrite · 7 years

Text

Balance on the Head of a Pin

Chapter Three

Previous Chapter

Pairing: Loki Laufeyson x OFC | Word Count: 8051

Warnings: Light smut, lots of fluff, over the top Loki, holy crap this got long!

A feather-light weight tickled Lauren’s ear. It moved in slow, gentle passes along the shell, causing the sensation to slip into the dream she was having.

The Spanish Moss was hanging heavy from the oaks as she walked through the forest on her way to the ol’ swimmin’ hole. It dangled down far enough to brush her shoulder, tickle against her ear, and set her swiping at it. A big rattan bag bumped at her hip, over the white cotton crocheted cover-up which hid her bikini. Beat up leather sandals protected her feet from the twigs and rocks of the path but showed off the dark pink nail polish which graced her toes. Vanilla scented the air from the magnolia’s blooming down by the water.

It made Lauren smile. She’d missed the sweet scent being in New York. Another brush of moss tickled her ear causing her to pull slightly away.

A wicked chuckle rumbled by the same ear, and she startled to find Loki walking at her side. She giggled and turned toward him, her bag falling from her shoulder as she wrapped her arms around his neck. “Well, ain’t you a sight for sore eyes.”

“Have I been gone so long, my Lauren, your eyes have grown weary looking for me?” he asked.

She nodded, her smile turning coy. “You’ve been gone simply forever, peaches.”

His hands slid around her waist, hot and strong, kneading into her flesh before sliding up her back. One splayed between her shoulders, the other delved into her hair. His eyes twinkled with a mischievous light, making the blue sparkle in a way which sent heat rushing to both face and belly. “If I kiss you, fair maiden, will you forgive me my absence?”

Biting her lip, trying not to smile like a fool, Lauren gave a slow nod, anticipation coursing through her. The hand in her hair tightened, pulled, and she gasped. The light in his eyes grew wicked and hungry, lids lowering to partially hide his lust. His head descended, and his smirk grew. Lips brushed hers, a butterfly caress. Once, twice. The third time they pressed firmly, moved leisurely, seduced her into opening her mouth and accepting his tongue.

A low moan broke from her throat. A mewl of pleasure followed when Loki licked her lips. She arched into him, rolled her body into his, and tightened the hold she’d placed on his neck.

His arm tightened, and the superhuman strength of his came into play when he picked her up, spun her around, and pressed her into the rough bark of the tree at her back.

A startled but aroused, “Oh!” erupted from her lips when his dropped to her throat.

“Lauren,” he breathed against her skin.

She shivered and clawed at his back. Heat and wet, a stroking tongue worked over her pulse. “Loki, please.”

“Lauren…” He bit lightly at her jaw making her moan. “Lauren, my dear…” A heavy weight squeezed down on her side. Another warm one fell across her thighs. “Lauren, sweet Lauren. You must wake…”

She was awake... wasn’t she? “Why?” she asked, giving a quiet sigh when lips walked her cheek.

“We will be landing soon, darling.”

Landing? Another hearty chuckle broke through a good deal of the fog as sleep slowly lifted. “Loki… don't stop…”

A kiss was pressed to her lips. The warm weight of his body was right there, so strong and hard. She arched into him, hands messing his hair, grinding into the weight pinning her down.

“I see you are having a pleasant dream, Lauren, my love, but there isn't time.”

“Loki, you keep calling me that, I'm gonna want to believe it,” she sighed, the words slipping out as her lids fluttered. Was she really asleep, dreaming she was awake? Or was she awake, only drifting?

“Would that be so bad, lovely Lauren?” His whispering lips kept skimming her jaw and throat, back to her ear and over it.

Sighing softly, she opened her eyes, blinking at the interior of Tony’s helicopter. “Loki?”

“Yes, Lauren.”

“How did I… how did we… what's goin' on?” she asked, his previous question going unanswered in her surprise.

When he lifted his head, she glanced at him and nearly moaned. His lips were full and red, indicating he'd been using them for quite some time. Heavy-lidded eyes gazed down at her, emotions clouding them. He looked remarkably pleased with himself.

“You went to sleep, darling. This was simply more comfortable for us both.”

She stared agape at the heavy silks and plush divan, the mounds of pillows, but mostly she stared at the God who lay at her side.

His hand on her ribs was the weight she'd felt in her dream, and his leg - thrown carelessly across her own - was the other corresponding weight. He was cuddled up with her, wrapped around her as tight as a creeper vine, but she was no better.

Her hands were so tangled in his hair her grip had to be borderline painful. His nose was, again, dragging over her cheek, and a sultry sound, almost a purr, was rumbling in his chest.

“Did you… magic us?” she gasped.

He nuzzled against her ear. “Technically I ensorcelled the interior. We simply benefited from my magic.”

Lauren pouted, lower lip poking out. “You did magic, and I missed it.”

Humming softly against her skin, Loki’s voice was muffled when he asked, “You would want to see me do magic?”

“I’d be as happy as a possum eatin’ a sweet potato if I could!” Lauren exclaimed.

“Possum eating a sweet potato.” He lifted his head to look at her. “My darling Lauren, you say the most… unique things.”

She blushed and looked away, hands sliding out of his hair. Being in New York so long had citified her some, but the southern kept slipping out. “I... I’m sorry. Havin' to go home just… brings it outta me.”

“Lauren,” he said, placing his fingers on her cheek, turning her face back to his. “I find it charming. Even when I don’t understand a word of it.” His knuckles caressed her cheek.

Lauren’s eyelids fluttered with the tenderness of the action. “Ain’t you sweet,” she whispered, pleased and embarrassed in equal measure.

“It is you who is sweet, my Lauren.” He kissed her lightly, a soft peck on her lips before he sat up, drawing her up with him. “So, you wish to see my magic?”

Curling her legs up beneath her, Lauren nodded. “I’ve seen you do small things, change the coasters, play pranks and stuff, but nothing on this scale.” She flicked her fingers over the fringe edge of a satin pillow.

He took her by the waist and drew her in close, until she was practically in his lap.

She looked at him questioningly.

He only shrugged, smirk still in place. “Watch,” he said, raising his hand.

Lauren’s eyes were glued to his fingers as green mist seemed to appear around them. It glowed softly, no brighter than a fairy light. It swirled with the roll of his wrist, flowing out in small arcs and curls. The immaculate space he’d created wavered, morphed, shimmered slightly and returned to the former glory of Tony’s overpriced helicopter.

Her feet hit the floor with a solid thump when the divan disappeared.

Lauren squealed in delight. “Well, shut my mouth! That was so cool!” Lifting her hands to either side of his neck, she stroked her thumbs along his jaw, completely undone with how amazing he was. “What’s it like? Were you born with it? Did someone teach you? Does the magic, I don’t know, feel like somethin’?” She bit her lip when his grin got bigger. “I’ve just… I’ve always been… curious about you.”

Loki burst out laughing and tugged her impossibly closer. “I learned from Frigga, my adoptive mother, to wield the magic of Asgard. And I could show you what it feels like, if you’d like.”

Challenge laced his voice. Challenge and seduction. The look on his face warned her there was more to his offer than some sort of lesson. But, here again, she felt a part of herself rise to the challenge, as if a wicked imp whispered in her ear.

“I’d like,” she said, eyes dropping to his lips before returning to his piercing blues. “Very much.”

His brow arched, pleased apparently that she’d accepted. Though the wicked light in his eyes was… almost the same as what showed when he tricked someone, yet, still, she trusted him to know what he was about.

“As you wish, Lauren.” He leaned in as if to kiss her, causing her breath to hitch, only he dropped his head to her throat, and drag his nose along her pulse.

It set her heart slamming in her chest.

“I noticed it while you slept in my arms,” he said, displeasure strong in his tone. “You smell… wrong. What is this deplorable scent?”

“A gift from my mama. It’s expected I wear it when I'm here.” She shuddered when he growled his disgust. Why did she find that sound so sexy?

“It is atrocious. I dislike it. You smell of… hn, old flowers and weeds. You won’t wear it again.” He lifted his head and locked eyes with her. “Will you, my love?”

It was both question and command. An enticement and a warning. It made Lauren weak in the knees, and she wasn't even standing. Falling into those blue pools, she licked her lips and swallowed so she could speak past the lump in her throat. “No, Loki. I won’t wear it again.”

“Good girl,” he praised her, hands lightly caressing her hips, and tracing patterns up her back. “Shall I fix it for you?”

“Please,” she whispered, so incredibly aroused she was surprised she didn't just burst into flames. What in the world was he doing to her? And why was she not more concerned by it?

“Such a good girl. Such… pretty manners. That deserves a reward.” Taking her chin in his hand, he tipped her face up. “Open your mouth, my Lauren.”

Parting her lips, Lauren watched his come closer. A pulse raced through her, over her skin, like static electricity.

His mouth closed over hers, and the frost flavour she was beginning to crave flowed over her tongue.

Heat and cold warred inside her, grew stronger, continued to pulse in ever-growing intensity. She didn’t even realize she’d thrown her arms around his neck until her breasts connected with his chest.

Ripping her mouth away, Lauren threw her head back and cried out. Pleasure the likes of which surpassed anything she’d felt with him so far blew through her system.

“Oh! Oh, Loki!” she moaned, body shaking.

“Breathe, darling. Let it flow.”

A high pitched whine escaped her lips, and she dug her nails into his back. She breathed great, heavy gasps, holding tight to the God of Mischief until the pleasure peaked and poured out.

It was exquisite!

Collapsing into Loki, Lauren panted against his shoulder, a few tears falling on his collar. “Oh, my stars…” she whispered. “How do you stand it?”

“Practice. Centuries of it. I’m also not human, darling. Plus, I was required to give you my magic, pour it inside you so you could feel it which is always much more… potent.”

“It felt like…”

“Felt like what, my sweet?”

She sat back, allowing her arms to unlink and relax from their tight hold. Lauren blushed and couldn’t look at him when she said, “Like what I expect makin’ love should feel like. There was more for me in these moments than all the times I…” She trailed off, embarrassed to have admitted to something so personal. He just seemed to draw the honesty right out of her. Was this, too, part of his power? Could one lie to a God of them? Or was it just not possible.

He was very still for a moment, so still, she began to grow uncomfortable, finally darting her eyes back to his. It wasn’t like she could pull away to look, not with how tight his arms around her were. Catching the look on his face, she nearly gasped. His eyes were dark, dangerous, almost feral, and watched her like a hawk.

“Loki?” she whimpered, retreating into herself. “What’s wrong?”

They cleared so swiftly, his eyes, she could have sworn she’d imagined what she’d seen.

“Nothing, darling.” He kissed her cheek. “We are almost to your home.”

“Oh! I must look a fright!” Lauren’s hands flew to her cheeks.

“Not a fright. Perhaps a little,” he chuckled wickedly, “dishevelled, but nothing I cannot easily correct.” His hands lifted to pull hers away, replacing them with his own as he lightly glamoured her makeup and fixed her hair.

Green light flickered at the corner of her eyes, but all she felt was a coolness caress her skin and wash over her hair. “Why is it different this time?”

“Because there is barely a touch of magic. Little more than a thought to control. What we did was more of a… sharing. There was much more power involved.” His hands shifted from her face to her shirt, tugging and straightening, fussing in a way she was unused to.

She shooed them away. “I can do that.”

“What kind of gentleman would I be if I didn’t see to my woman?” he asked.

Grabbing for his hands, Lauren held them still in her lap. “Loki? What’s happening here?” There was so much more going on than just him helping her with her family.

He looked at her, long and hard, emotions washing over his face in such rapid succession Lauren was hard pressed to follow. Just as he opened his mouth to reply, the helicopter touched down.

Lauren snapped her eyes to the door. “Loki, I’d be much obliged if for at least the next thirty minutes you didn’t leave my side.”

His lips pressed to her cheek, and his arm wrapped her waist. “Whatever you need, my sweet.”

***

Her heart rate spiked the instant the plea to stay with her left Lauren. The wild thrumming of her pulse in her throat had him holding her tighter, bringing her closer, putting aside his own desires for the moment to be what she needed.

Drawing his nose along her cheek, an action he noticed both soothed and aroused her, Loki brushed a trailing caress down to the rapid flutter and inhaled deeply. “Ah, there is my Lauren. My Amazonian Lily. What a… hm, delightfully beautiful scent.” He could eat her up she smelled so delectable.

“Loki,” she sighed, body melting into his.

A smile tugged at his lips. Her pulse slowed as her mind drifted away from her worries. Exactly what he’d intended.

“Come, darling,” he murmured, placing a kiss against the alluring line of her jaw.

He drew her by the hand to her feet, led her toward the door, and through it when it opened, stepping out into the hot, humid air. It slapped him in the face, the moist wet heat, nearly making him grunt in displeasure before he adjusted his internal temperature. Such was the benefit of being born a frost giant. Brushing back his hair, Loki pulled Lauren beneath his shoulder and took his first look around at her home.

They’d landed on a wide swath of well-groomed lawn. The colour was a vivid green, healthy and lush. What trees dotted the area were tall and old. Beds of brightly blooming flowers spread out in symmetrical lines and curves, surrounding the light grey gravel of the circular drive. A fountain sprang up from the center of the circle, big and ostentatious, nothing like the elegant ones of home.

Everything was too perfect, too contrived, too… false for his liking. All of it went against the natural flow of the land, against its nature. It was as if someone was trying to showcase their wealth.

When he shifted his gaze to the house, his brow arched. The big white place was three stories tall, wrapped in porches and balconies held up by columns. Dual staircases led up to the covered entryway, curving slightly as they rose, requiring one to walk up to get to the main floor of the house. The house spread out from the box-shaped front, the right side rounding into a large bend, jutting out into an elongated turret. The left was nearly a home of its own with a peaked roof instead of flat like the main building.

He knew little of human dwellings, nothing at all of this variety, and peered down at Lauren where she stood beside him, twisting her fingers together. “While your home appears… lofty in stature, I do not understand the nature of the layout. Why does the bottom section appear so short compared to the second and third story? Is there something undesirable about the ground level?”

Lauren shot him a small smile. “Back when the farm was a sugar plantation, at its inception, the basement there was for the servants. Kitchen, living quarters, storage, and all that.”

“And now, Lauren?” he asked.

“Mostly storage. The wine cellar. I think Daddy put a gym down there a few years ago. The house was modernized before I was born, moving the kitchen and such upstairs. Mama has a tendency to renovate when the mood strikes.”

“Indeed,” he said, leading her away from the aircraft, wind from the slowing rotors lifting their hair.

“Oh! The bags,” she said, trying to turn back.

Holding her in place, Loki flicked his wrist. “I have them.”

“Really?”

“You doubt me?”

“I guess not,” she giggled.

The sound made him surprisingly happy.

When they made the base of the wide cement stairway, the door to the house, a massive oak structure as white as the rest of the place with a large brass door knocker opened to reveal a woman only slightly older than Lauren. Marabeth, the elder sister.

“Well, look at you arrivin’ in style,” she said with a smile.

It was sharp, predatory, and Loki disliked her instantly. Did his Lauren have no one in her family who treated her with kindness?

A darker blonde than Lauren and with hazel eyes, Marabeth was heavier as well. Thicker in the hips and waist than his svelte, flexible woman. She was dressed in a white suit jacket and skirt, navy blue shirt, and white strappy sandals. The rings on her fingers flashed in the light when she crossed her arms.

“Mr. Stark insisted,” Lauren said, her smile brittle.

He moved his arm from around her shoulders to settle reassuringly against Lauren’s low back. “Now, Lauren my love. You know Tony would be quite offended to hear you call him Mr. Stark.”

The woman’s eyes swung to him, widened slightly, and travelled the length of his body when Loki reached the uppermost step.

It insulted him greatly. Who was she to admire what so clearly belonged to her sister?

“Loki, meet my sister, Marabeth Avirett. Marabeth, Loki Laufeyson.”

She stepped forward and held out her hand.

He only looked at it. “Charmed... I’m sure.”

Marabeth extracted her hand, her face pinched, and anger in her eyes. “Well, ain’t you just… something else,” she said, her smile faltering before she turned to head inside. “Mama and daddy are waiting on you in the library, Lauren Guillemin. I’ll send Lafayette to retrieve your bags from that… monstrosity on the lawn.”

“You needn’t concern yourself, madam. The bags are taken care of.”

Marabeth paused but didn’t turn, continuing into the house after only a moment more, and he glanced down at Lauren. She’d bit her lip to keep from laughing, shooting him a look of such gratitude it made him feel powerful. An odd thing, considering he already was.

“Thank you, Loki,” Lauren whispered.

He only hummed in acknowledgement, firming the touch he kept on her back.

Stepping over the threshold into her ancestral home, he had to bite back a sneer. The hardwood floors shone with a layer of highly polished wax. A stairwell, directly across from the door, rose up and split into two, curving up and outward toward the second level. A large, round oak table sat between him and the stairs, a blue and white vase filled with orchids rested upon it. More columns framed the openings.

Dual doorways led from the entrance to either side of the hall, doors which slid within the walls almost fully recessed, allowing him to see into either room beyond this entrance. But it was the paper on the walls which had his nose wrinkling in disgust.

Who in their right mind wants pale yellow walls with blue flower vines tangled upon it? It was ugly. Disgustingly so.

“Loki?”

He looked to Lauren.

“This way.” She held out her hand, and he took it, linking their fingers together.

Marabeth was watching them, so he lifted Lauren’s fingers to his lips, nibbled on her knuckles, and kissed her wrist. “Apologies, darling. I was simply admiring your mother’s lovely home.”

Her eyes danced with amusement. Her understanding of the inflection he’d placed upon the word evident on her face. She was so observant, his Lauren, she knew him far better than he’d realized if she could read his tone that well.

“Mama takes great pride in her home. I’m sure she’ll be pleased as punch you like it,” Marabeth called from her place between the open doors.

Lauren bit her lip, her smile wide with her back to her sister, the mischievous light glinting in her eyes again. It made him want to kiss her. Take her by the hips, jerk her up against him, and sink into her lush mouth. The mouth which tasted like the finest of Asgardian wines. She was addicting, his sweet Lauren.

Leaning closer, he lowered his voice to a whisper. “You keep looking at me like that, I will simply have to kiss you.”

“Like what?” she whispered back.

His grin became a wicked one. “Like you are auditioning to be my high priestess. All that mischief in your eyes. Be careful, sweetheart. I may just accept you into the position.”

“You have a high priestess?” she hissed.

Loki lowered his head till they were nose to nose. “I am a God, my dear.”

She stared up at him, mouth slightly agape for but a moment before her grin spread, and she slapped him gently in the chest. “Tease! You’re pullin’ my leg.”

He shrugged, face only a little smug. “Perhaps.”

“Are ya gonna continue to keep mama and daddy waitin’, Lauren Guillemin?”

“Don’t get your knickers in a twist, Marabeth Augustine,” Lauren rolled her eyes, still looking at Loki.

Better.

He could have purred with satisfaction to see her stand up to her sister. Instead, he tightened the grip he had on her fingers. Tilting his head, he gave her a wink and straightened up to follow after Lauren when she led the way through the double doors.

The new room was a parlour, frou-frou chairs and all. Polished wood furniture, lacy curtains, weird colourful floral rugs. Glass and porcelain statues, clocks, and chandeliers. It was pink. Even the cream walls had a border of pink flowers. It nearly made him shudder it was so revolting.

Long strides took them through the room, past multiple seating areas, to another set of double doors. These ones led into a slightly less ostentatious dining room. The furniture was more substantial, more in keeping with a masculine taste. The rug which covered the hardwood floors of darker, reds and golds, the mouldings white, and the walls burgundy. A crystal chandelier hung in the center of the room above the walnut table and eight padded chairs. Between the heavily curtained windows stood a mirror. An enormous one. One which ran from floor to ceiling.

As they passed by it, he glanced toward it and lifted his chin, smiling at the way he and Lauren looked together. His golden one walking at his side, a perfect foil to his dark might.

She glanced toward the mirror as well, blushing a pretty pink across her cheeks. Stroking his thumb over her wrist, he felt her heart kick up. Her nerves had returned, and her shoulders were tightening.

Detaching her hand from his, he shushed her with a look and tucked her fingers in his elbow, drawing her in against his side. It was a gesture of support and protection. An expression which was sorely lacking in this world.

She smiled up at him, looking into his eyes when they walked through the final door.

“Well, bless my heart! There’s my knee-baby!”

Holy Odin and the halls of Valhalla! The voice was worse in person than it could have ever been over the phone. High pitched and nasal, he quelled a flinch though Lauren’s eyes squinted when she could not entirely control hers.

She took a breath, turned her head, and he watched her smile freeze and fall away. Her entire being stiffened with indignation. “What’s he doing here?” Lauren asked coldly.

“Lauren Guillemin! Is that any way to greet your mother or speak to a guest?” her mother scolded.

Slowly, Loki lifted his head. A wolf on the hunt could not have looked more menacing if it tried.

Sweeping his gaze around the room, he took in the walls of books, heavy leather chairs in a deep cognac colour mixed with high backed green cloth ones, dark chocolate couches, and deep cherry panelling. A stone fireplace graced the back wall and above it, hung a portrait of some ancestor or other, the clothing on the people from long ago. But it was the people within the room he zeroed in on.

Marabeth stood off to the side with a man dressed along the same lines as himself. Light grey pants matched his suit coat. A white polo shirt stretched across a pot belly, Loki noticed disdainfully. He would never allow himself to fall into such a state. It was disgraceful. The man’s dark hair was grey at the temples, and the glasses he wore spoke of his poor eyesight.

Pitiful. No challenge.

He must be Marabeth’s husband, Samuel.

The woman with the voice was next. She was undoubtably Lauren’s mother. They were nearly identical in looks, though Magnolia was well into her fifth decade. Shades lighter, her blonde was of the bottled variety. An ageing woman’s last-ditch effort to retain her youth. Her dress was cream, sleeveless, tight through the bust, fitted in the waist, and flared out from her hips similar to the one Lauren had worn the night before. It had floral bouquets in pinks and golds and blues upon it. Her heeled shoes were a bubble-gum pink complete with bows.

She looked absurd. Like she was trying to be Lauren’s sister, not her mother. Was there any wonder why Magnolia was so crass to her daughter? The woman was working so hard to be something she had long grown too old for.

She was ageing - poorly - and resented it.

The salt and pepper hair of the man at her back bespoke his age loud and clear. Lauren’s father, Hoyt, was a big man. Tall. Strong. He, too, wore tan pants and a blue shirt. No jacket. His eyes, ones which showed where Lauren’s had come from, were narrowed and assessing.

Loki didn’t like being eyed and narrowed his own in warning.

Hoyt’s fell away, and Loki’s moved on to land full-force on the man Lauren glared at.

Caramel coloured hair curled around his face, hanging into his dark brown eyes. Loki begrudgingly admitted the male was… pleasing enough. He had decent features, but he wasn’t of Asgard. Dragging his eyes down the male interloper, he took in the muscled physique, the cocky stance, the much too appreciative stare of his woman.

“Darling?” Loki poured every ounce of possession, every drop of seduction, into the single word and had all eyes turn to him. Being a God was so good. “Who is this… person?”

Her eyes lifted to his and the angry flush on her face faded. “George Montgomery, my ex-fiancé.”

Her hand had come off his arm with her anger. He wrapped his around her waist and drew her to his chest. “Truly?” he asked. “This is the man foolish enough to cheat on you, my Lauren? I may have to shake his hand. His loss is my gain after all.” But he didn’t move away from her, only cupped her cheek and smiled. Slowly. Playfully. Seductively.

She melted into him. “I’d prefer he simply went away.”

“Lauren Guillemin, you watch your mouth! George is my guest,” Magnolia berated.

“A guest you knew I had no wish to see.” Lauren sent her a glare. “Why is he here, mama?”

Marabeth stepped forward. “Now, Lauren. You know mama and daddy have your best interests at heart. Why George is here to make amends. He wants to see you again, and well, we just assumed you were lyin' when you said you had a fella.”

Loki felt the power surge within him. Rage burned with her sister’s words. With the inference. With the lack of faith. “As you can clearly see, I am not a contrivance of your sister’s imagination.” His voice rang with authority, causing the woman to flinch.

“Loki, don’t,” Lauren pleaded.

“They insult you, my heart. Besmirch our love. I cannot allow such a thing to go unanswered!”

“You sure picked a fancy replacement, Lauren,” George quipped.

“Watch your tone, human, or I will show you just how fancy I can truly be,” Loki snarled.

“Well, paint me pink and call me purple.”

“Oh, sweet Jesus. Here we go…” Lauren whispered, her head falling to Loki's chest.

He turned to look at the newly arrived speaker framed within a second doorway and arched his brow in sudden understanding of Lauren’s previous statements in regards to Cissy.

Unlike her blonde sisters and mother, this woman, a few years younger than Lauren, was brunette, petite, and wearing a strapless ruffled purple dress, tied in the front with a big white bow. An incredibly short purple dress.

“Cissy! Why land's sakes, girl! We can see plumb clear to the promise land!” her mother exclaimed.

“Oh, mama. This dress ain’t that short.” Cissy waved a dismissive hand.

Sharp blue eyes turned his way. Again he was assessed as if he were a side of meat by another of the females in this family. It was something Lauren had never done, or if she had, he’d never chanced to notice it.

“My, my, my, Lauren. How you’ve come up in the world,” Cissy smiled slyly. “And as for you, George, why would my darlin’ sister take you back when she’s hooked in such a… hm, fine man?”

“What the hell you talkin’ about, Cissy?” George snapped.

Cissy ignored him, slinking her way across the room. “You know, hun, when mama dun told me you’re new beau’s name was Loki, why I just couldn’t believe it. I didn't think it was possible. My mouse of a sister, attracting his notice. Figured if anything it was someone else by that name. But here he stands, plain as the nose on your face. The Loki.”

“Just how many people you think have a name like Loki, Cissy?” Lauren rolled her eyes.

“I don’t understand,” Magnolia said. “And I’m disappointed in your manners, Lauren Guillemin.”

Loki held Lauren tighter, warning her to silence before she could do something foolish like apologize, and gave them all a hard smile. “I do believe you’re correct, madam. How unconscionably rude of me not to introduce myself.” He tilted his head in regal acknowledgement. “I am Loki Laufeyson. Adopted son of Odin. Brother to Thor. Once Prince of Asgard, and the God of Mischief.” Rolling his wrist, he summoned his staff to his hand and dropped the butt of the weapon to the floor. Power rippled out from the connection, gently shaking the room and all within it.

“Dramatic much?” Lauren said under her breath, smirking up at him.

“I did not summon the helmet,” Loki smiled down at her.

She giggled and bit her lip to cut off the sound.

“You’re… you’re… that Loki?” Hoyt gasped.

“If by that Loki you mean one of the Avengers then indeed I am.”

“I’m such a huge fan,” Cissy cooed, slinking closer.

“How nice for you.” Loki didn’t even bother to look her way. “Lauren speaks so… highly of you all. It is a joy to finally meet my beloved’s family.”

Lauren shivered against him. He couldn’t tell if it was from amusement or anxiety.

“Why, I’m just… caught with my pants down, Lauren,” Magnolia said. “You could have told me.”

“I did tell you, mama. I told you I was seein’ someone. I’m not a liar, and I don’t appreciate bein’ painted as one.” Lauren placed her hand on Loki’s chest.

He could feel the way it fluttered there, shaking, her guilt in what she assumed was a lie present in her touch.

“Pish, Lauren.” Cissy waved her hand. “We all know you’re all hat and no cattle.”

“Lauren, I want to talk to you,” George stated, walking toward them.

Loki sent him a warning glare which the fool ignored. Very well, it will be your funeral. The man was not going to lay a hand on his woman.

“I have nothin' to say to you, George. And Cissy, you’re one to talk.”

Cissy sidled up next to Loki, daring to drag her fingertip down Loki’s arm. Her touch was foul. “You do not want to do that,” he warned.

“My, oh my. Just look at you,” Cissy giggled, fluttering her lashes.

“Lauren, I really think you and I should speak privately,” George said from less than a foot away.

“George! Can it! And, Cissy, so help me God, if you do not take your hands off my boyfriend I will snatch you bald!” Lauren snapped.

For Loki, it was all quite enough. No one listened to his Lauren. They all walked over her protests as if her opinion meant nothing. Cissy had increased her boldness, running her hand firmly up his arm. George was reaching for Lauren as if he had the right to touch her. Her mother was staring adoringly at George, and her father was clearly calculating how best to use Lauren’s new beau to his benefit while Marabeth and her husband were frowning disapprovingly off to one side.

He gritted his teeth together. “Enough!” Loki bellowed, slamming his staff into the ground. It cracked loudly, not so different from Thor’s thunder, causing everyone to freeze. “Remove your hand, woman or I will take it as penalty for touching me without permission,” he said coldly to Cissy. It came off his arm with a snap, but he could tell he'd only piqued her interest with his rejection.

With a simple twist of his wrist, his staff turned into a golden cane topped with a gleaming green stone. He swung it up and slammed the tip into George’s grasping hand, knocking it away from Lauren. “And the lady has stated she does not wish to speak with you. To try and put your hands on her is a great offence,” he snarled, pointing the cane tip at the man. “One which could land you on the wrong end of my anger.”

“You ain’t got a say in this, pretty boy, so butt out!” George snapped, rubbing his wrist.

“Now, y'all just calm down,” Hoyt said, stepping in at last. “We’re all runnin’ a little hot with these surprises and could use a chance to cool down. Lauren, why don't you take Loki to your room and get settled. Show him around the farm if you want, and we'll meet for lunch in an hour.”

Loki frowned his disapproval. Some patriarch he is. Odin would never allow anyone to treat his daughter with such disrespect including her siblings. “Yes, darling. I would very much like to see where we will be sleeping,” he said and dropped the butt of his cane to the floor, sending another wave of power rolling through the room.

“Oh, but I’ll have to get a maid to make up a spare room…” Magnolia trailed off when Loki shifted hard eyes her direction.

“That is not the Asgardian way. We would never allow our women to sleep alone; vulnerable in their slumber.” He glanced toward George and smiled smugly. “Or unsatisfied.”

“Loki, that's enough,” Lauren said, touching his chest. A pleasing blush had appeared on her face.

“Of course, my sweet.” Vanishing his staff, Loki traced his fingers over her cheek, tilted her chin up and kissed her. He didn't stop until George’s teeth ground together. “Take me to your bed, darling,” he purred against her mouth.

“Loki!” she scolded, her face bright red. “I'm of half a mind to make you sleep on the floor.”

“How cruel of you, my love.” Wrapping her tighter against him, he tipped his voice low, sultry, seductive. “Would you really deny me access to Valhalla? My Valkyrie, you know I only find heaven with you.”

She bit her lip, eyes dancing with amusement, trying hard not to laugh. Her hand caressed the back of his neck as she drew him closer. “You're a terrible flirt,” she whispered.

“I'm a fantastic flirt,” he whispered back.

“Lauren Guillemin! I raised you better. You can't be sharin’ space with a man you ain't married to!” Magnolia screeched.

Growing annoyed with the woman, her anger less about her daughter's virtue and more because the boy Magnolia preferred was not the one in Lauren’s bed, Loki traced his fingers down Lauren’s throat. He brushed them over her shoulder, and along her arm, all the way to her hand where he rubbed his thumb back and forth over the ring finger of her left hand.

She blinked curiously up at him, eyes alight, wondering what he would do next.

Screw it.

He threw caution to the wind and let his magic spark around her fingers. Bringing her hand to his lips, Loki kissed her knuckles, gave her a wink, and hoped she would play along. “Then it is fortuitous Lauren has consented to be my bride.”

The entire room gasped.

A wicked thrill coursed through his veins at a successfully executed trick. However, he didn’t look away from Lauren to see the reactions. Hers was far more important.

Her eyes widened, mouth falling open as her gaze darted down to the golden ring with the dazzling green stone which now graced her finger. Her lashes fluttered, then lifted, returning up to his. Shock turned her eyes teal before the same enticing, fascinating light, glowed in her beautiful eyes.

“Loki…” Her mouth closed and she swallowed hard. Her spine straightened as she stood taller. “I thought we were gonna wait, peaches until you could speak with my daddy?”

“Oh, dear. I have quite ruined the surprise now haven’t I?”

“No! You can’t!”

Humming irately, Loki glared at George. “What was it you so eloquently said earlier? Oh, yes. You do not have a say in this, so butt out!”

“You ain’t got no say in my life, George Montgomery. You were the one who walked out on me,” Lauren stated, her tone cold and unforgiving.

“I made a mistake, Lauren. Can’t we talk about this?” George reached for her arm again.

Loki was having none of it. A swirl of green magic wrapped his hand, wrapped around Lauren, and he appeared between the two of them his favourite dagger in his fist. He rolled it over the back of his hand and switched his grip as he pressed the lovingly sharpened edge against the human’s throat. “My lady is done with you, you dishonourable gutter snake! I will not allow you to upset her further.”

“My stars!” Magnolia gasped. “Lauren! Do somethin'!”

“Loki!” Lauren’s hands wrapped around his waist.

He settled his free one on hers but didn’t look away from the scared eyes of George. “Do not mistake me for some weak, mewling human you can push around! I am of Asgard. What I claim, and who I claim as my own are mine to protect. I do not hold with your ways. I would never betray the woman I love as you have.” Drawing his hand back, he flipped the dagger again, caught it by the flat of the blade and smacked the hilt firmly between George’s eyes. “You have caused me to distress my lady. That is unforgivable.”

Vanishing the dagger, he turned his back on the man. “Darling, are you alright?” Had he scared her? He had not meant to go so far, it was only this George pissed him off.

She peered up at him, but fear was not what he found in her eyes. They glowed with the wicked light of earlier. The mischievous light. The one which made him think of shimmering, diaphanous gowns which exposed as much as they covered, golden bangles on her arms, a diadem placed upon her brow, and her hair flowing in soft waves around her shoulders as she danced for him.

His high priestess. His Valkyrie. His goddess.

Lauren.

“I’m fine, peaches,” she smiled. “But how’s about we take that tour? I think there’s been enough excitement for one mornin’.” Her hands traced up over his chest.

It felt too good for such a public display. “I will follow where you lead, my love.” Sweeping his eyes over the rest of her gathered family, he smiled. “Apologies if I frightened anyone. It was… enlightening to meet you all.”

Marabeth and Samuel stood together across the room, clinging to each other.

Her mother had a hand wrapped around her throat, fear on her face.

The father was stiff, but his countenance showed only more calculation. Hoyt was going to be an issue.

And so was the youngest sister. Cissy was dragging her fingers over her décolletage, teeth in her lip, eyes appreciative. She continued to trace them over his body in a very displeasing manner. “Why don’t I come with y’all?” Cissy said, sliding closer.

“Your company is neither wished for, nor required, madam.” Gathering Lauren to his side, Loki urged her from the room.

“This way,” she said, tugging him the opposite direction, through the door her sister had used to enter and down a hallway.

“Lauren…”

“Not yet.”

He fell silent, watching her tail of hair sway as she walked quickly toward a stairwell. She darted up it, making him fear for her ankles when she ran on the wedge sandals. Somehow she made it safely to the top, continuing down the new hallway.

They were clearly in the large turret section as the walls curved slightly. To his left was a balcony rail which he peered over. On the floor they’d left was an open room with more highly polished floors. A ballroom if he wasn't mistaken, one lined with windows.

About halfway down the hall, she stopped before a door tall enough for a Frost Giant to walk through without bending. Turning the crystal doorknob, she shoved it open and walked in, heading deeper into the room bathed in light. So much light it streamed out into the hallway, causing Loki to squint when he followed her.

At the threshold, he paused to take the sight in.

The room was quite large. Contained both a bedroom and seating area, dressers and mirrors all wooden and antique in nature. Windows curved the length of one entire wall. Another space which was a touch too pink for his liking, but he could tell it had been Lauren’s childhood bedroom.

Wandering inside, he shut the door at his back and cast his gaze around the space, admiring the white fur rug before the fireplace, the soft couch with its saggy cushions and colourful blankets, the posters of people he couldn’t recognize nor cared to learn about. There were two doors, both closed, which he imagined led to washroom and closet.

White mouldings surrounded the walls, walls which, at one time had been painted a baby soft pink and were now faded from the sun. A crystal chandelier hung from the ceiling above the bed, and his eyes landed on Lauren who’d gone over backwards into the middle of the mass of eclectic bedding and pillows.

It was sweet, he supposed, very much in keeping for what he’d seen of his Lauren in this space.

Walking across the room, he flicked his wrist, dropping their luggage next to the door, and settled down beside her on the bed. “Lauren?”

A smile flirted with her lips before she giggled. “Oh man. Did you see George’s face? I thought he was gonna wet himself!”

Humming softly, amusement in the sound, Loki nodded. “Personally, I enjoyed the pinched look on your youngest sister’s face when you threatened to snatch her bald. You are far feistier than they have given you credit for.”

She laughed harder, wrapping her arms around herself. “And when you introduced yourself!” Lauren giggled uncontrollably. “Marabeth was fit to be tied!”

He chuckled softly and reclined beside her, resting on his elbow to watch her laugh. “And I am not a terrible flirt.”

She rolled to face him with bright eyes. “You are such a terrible flirt! So over the top. Besmirch our love? Take me to your bed? Deny me Valhalla?”

His grin widened. “Yet you did not protest,” he said, leaning closer while tracing his hand up her ribs.

“I was havin’ too much fun,” she murmured, her gaze dropping to his lips.

“So was I. This whole escapade appeals to my nature.” Gaze falling to her lips, he leaned down and kissed her, lightly brushing his mouth over hers. “I dislike your family. They are cruel to you. They disrespect you.”

Softly, Lauren asked, “Is that why you said we were engaged?”

It was one of two reasons. The first being he had no desire to be parted from her, and the shock it had given her family was invigorating. The second was the odd, calculating look her mother had exchanged with George. Something was going on there, and the instincts which had served him all his life had shrieked in warning. It was a warning he would heed.

“You must admit, the result was rather pleasing.”

She lifted her hand to look at the ring. “Is this… your staff?”

“No, darling. I made that special for you.”

Nodding slowly, Lauren looked away.

“What’s wrong, my sweet?”

Gently, he took her face in his hand, turning her eyes back to his. She kept her lids lowered shadowing them. What colour had come to her face with her laughter was suddenly gone. Her heart was beating hard in her throat, and her hands twisted together, fingers playing with her ring.

“Lauren?”

“What are we going to do?” Her eyes drifted up to his. “It was supposed to be a charade. A relationship to get my mama off my case. Now… now we’re engaged… and this isn’t supposed to be real… but it feels… you make me feel…” Her eyes filled with tears, and they sparkled like diamonds on her lashes.

“Lauren, don’t do that, my love.”

“Please, don’t call me that.” She wrenched her face from his hand and sat up, scooting off the bed.

He went with her and grabbed her hand. He tugged her back around to face him, finding the tears had broken loose and were falling freely. “No, no, my Valkyrie. No tears.” He cupped her cheeks, holding her there, wiping the waterfalls of sorrow from her face.

Her hands came up and wrapped tightly around his wrists. She looked up, her eyes locking with his as she whispered, “Loki? Are you playing with me?”

Next Chapter

#balance #loki #loki laufeyson #loki fanfiction #avengers #avengers au #avengers fanfiction #southern belle

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