Ragnarök Imagines and Preferences

Part 2

Part 2 to the last imagine

You wake up the next morning to an empty bed. Fjor's bathroom door is shut and you can hear the shower running, and his awful singing.

"Sing a little louder for the neighbors, will ya?" You shout over his music.

"We don't have any." He yells back.

"Good thing. You sound like a dying cat." You mutter the last part under your breath, playfully rolling your eyes.

The door swings open and steam billows out into the bedroom and Fjor appears in only a towel. "You could join me instead of taunting." He moves to drag you into the bathroom and immediately shuts the door behind you.
It's not like you could've escaped his grip anyway.

"Y'know I would, but I'm not that person anymore." You answer, turning to face the door as his towel drops. His head peeks out from the shower as if he wants to ask a question. "I was a bit of a player back in high school and I'd prefer not to start that again."

"I can respect that. But no one's forcing you to be in here with me."

And it was in that moment you realized you were falling for someone you only just met, kinda. Fjor Jutul was cunning and sly, but also cheeky and forgiving. He respected that you were trying to change as a person.

What he didn't expect was for you to step under the spray behind him and massage his shoulders, soaking your red hair and fair skin. His muscles rippled under your touch and he turned around before you could fathom what was happening. His lips were on yours, working his way into your mouth as his hands traveled down south and you jerked forward at his touch, hitting his groin with yours.

"The things I could do to you..." he says between breaths.
He's interrupted by Saxa's knocking.

"You'd better not use up all the hot water, Fjor."

"We should get out before she barges in here." You push away from him and step into the steamy environment. The t-shirt you borrowed from Fjor is soaked and all he has are two towels. "I've got an issue."

"I don't see one." He chuckles.

"Seriously, Fjor! What am I supposed to wear?" You exit the bathroom and toss his t-shirt at his chest.

"I'll borrow something from Saxa." He disappears into her room and returns with a pair of black jeans, Black Sabbath band shirt and a hair tie. "It's probably not your style, but I had to choose something she wouldn't miss very much."

"Be a gentleman and turn around, please?"

"Fine. Although you have a good-looking ass." He smirks.

"I'd slap you, but it's not ladylike." You return the favor before sliding the shirt on over your bra-clad chest.

"Not a bad fit."

"Now I just have to get past your parents and Saxa." You sigh.