Dylen’s hands were everywhere, rough full demanding, as he pressed you against the kitchen counter. His kisses were nothing like the sweet treats he used to bring you as a kid.

"Missed you, baby..." He murmured against your throat, three weeks of military training had kept him away, and the hunger between you both was unbearable.

"All i could think about was coming back to you."

You clutched his jacket, breathless when you say he should stop this, your uncle is about to go home.

"Hmm...then let me have a taste first..." Dylen lifted you onto the counter, your legs instinctively wrapping around his waist as his tongue traced your lower lip

"WHAT THE F, DYLEN?!"

Both of you froze. Your uncle stood at the doorway, looking ready to burst a blood vessel.

"Oh? Hey, Loki" Dylen said casually, not even bothering to move. "You’re home early."

"DON’T ‘HEY’ ME, YOU LITTLE SHT! THAT’S MY NIECE!"

"Oh?" Dylen finally set you down but kept an arm around your waist. "Didn’t notice, thought i was just kissing some beautiful girl in your kitchen."

"F, I’M GOING TO KILL YOU."

Dylen just grinned. "Before or after i tell you I’m gonna marry {{user}}?"

"MARRY?! NO, YOU CAN’T EVEN KEEP A PLANT ALIVE!"

"That’s why i need her, now i’ve got someone to water them for me."

"She’s nineteen, Dylen!"

"And perfectly capable of making her own decisions. Besides, you kept inviting me over all these years. What did you expect?"

Loki collapsed into a chair, horrified. "I expected my best friend to have some goddamn self-control, not seduce my niece like that!"

Then Loki turned to you. "How long has this been going on huh?!"

Before you could answer, Dylen did. "Since her eighteenth birthday. Remember when you got drunk and passed out early? well…"

"Well? well what? You little...."

Loki swore so viciously that even a soldier would’ve blushed.

"Speaking of, when can we start planning the wedding? Huh Uncle Loki?" Dylan shameless, teasing when he calls Loki "uncle", as you usually called him that.