FIC: A Succubus And A Hard Place [Lost Girl; Lauren/The Morrigan]
Title: A Succubus And A Hard Place
Author: trancer21
Fandom: Lost Girl
Wordcount: 2196
Rating: R
Pairing(s): Lauren/Morrigan, slight Lauren/Bo
Summary: 1x11 Lauren‘s past catches up with her.
Disclaimer: “Lost Girl”, its characters, and the situations depicted are the property of Prodigy Pictures and Showcase Television. This piece of fan fiction was written for fun and not profit.
**
Lauren inhaled for what felt like the millionth time. Slumping back in her seat, she closed her eyes as she pinched the bridge of her nose. The evidence was still preliminary but, no matter how many different ways she looked at it, her conclusion was always the same.
She didn’t have to think too long or hard as to why she was trying to clear the name of a man - no, not a man, Lauren internally chided herself for forgetting the distinction - who hated her with his entire being. It didn’t stop Lauren from questioning herself. She was doing that a lot lately, questioning herself.
The weight on her shoulders was massive, crushing. And she’d chosen long ago to not punish herself any more than necessary for bringing that weight upon herself. Her decisions back then may have been naive but, at the end of the day, they were her decisions. Lauren was a scientist. She chose science.
She was also a survivor.
She glanced about the empty lab, the dimmed lights and windows colored by a darkening sky. Lauren liked this time the best, when the lab was empty. Free of the disapproving and elitist glares of the Fae. Despite all Lauren had done for the Light, she was still nothing more than a human in their eyes, still... beneath them.
I chose this, Lauren closed her eyes and silently repeated the words that had become her mantra. Her albatross.
“I chose this.”
“Chose what, darling?”
Lauren froze, her chest seized and her blood turned to ice. It had been a long time since she’d heard her name spoken by those lips. Too long. Not long enough.
She dared herself to turn, swerving in her chair to see brown hair, darker eyes and bronzed skin poured into material red as blood that hugged every curve and every line, so sheer as to leave little to the imagination. And Lauren didn’t have to imagine much.
“What... What are you doing here?” Lauren stammered, her eyes suddenly darting about. She was a human amongst Fae, Fae that didn’t trust her. Never had and, Lauren learned too late, never would. She was nothing more than a tool, one to be used at the Fae’s leisure, and discarded just as easily should the inclination arise. Lauren was the property of the Ash, on Light Fae territory. Yet, should she be seen with..
The Morrigan chuckled low and throaty, seductive and dangerous. She sauntered deeper into the lab, hips swaying, heels clacking loudly on the linoleum.
“I’ve come for the evidence to end this charade,” the Morrigan finally spoke. She stopped several feel from Lauren’s chair, her lips curling upwards as she watched Lauren’s eyes gaze at features that weren’t the Morrigan’s eyes.
The words seemed to snap Lauren from the sudden haze clogging her brain. Her eyes snapped upwards, narrowing into hard slits as she found scraps of resolve at the bottom of the pit she’d found herself in. “What are you doing here?”
Red painted lips pulled into a smirk. The Morrigan stepped closer, placing her hands on Lauren’s knees, noting the sudden gasp the touch illicited before pushing Lauren’s knees open and stepping into the open space. The chair squeaked as it backed into the table, the Morrigan pressing her body against Lauren’s, her nose a hair’s breath from the line of Lauren’s neck as she inhaled deeply.
The Morrigan leaned back just a little, just enough, their faces inches apart. “You smell like succubus.”
Lauren winced. It had only been once. It had been weeks ago and, now, the Morrigan knew.
“You smell like succubus,” the Morrigan repeated. Her eyes went soft, concerned as she drew the backs of her fingers down Lauren’s cheek. “And yet... you look lonely.”
The Morrigan touched Lauren’s cheek and heat, pulsing and oily and molten hot, streaked straight to the apex of Lauren’s legs and still Lauren found the strength to fight it. “Does the Ash know you’re here?”
“I’m not afraid of the Ash. You...” the hand on Lauren’s face was on Lauren’s breast. Just like that, inside her shirt, inside her bra, fever warm palm and teasing fingers. “Of all people should know that.”
Lauren did know. It was always a seduction with the Morrigan. But Lauren had gone in, not with eyes quite so wide open, but eager and easily seduced. The way in had been easy. Getting out?
Lauren was still figuring out that part.
“We.. I.. can’t,” Lauren gasped as the Morrigan’s lips found that spot on Lauren’s neck seemingly created for the Morrigan. “I’m the Ash’s.”
“You were mine once,” the Morrigan purred/growled as her fingers slipped between denim, satin and skin. “And you’ll be mine again.”
Lauren felt no need to argue the point. What the Morrigan wanted, the Morrigan got. There was a time when Lauren wanted something different, hoped for something different. In an instant, hope shattered like fragile glass on a stone floor. Lauren made her choices. Now, there would be nothing but consequences.
Palms flat on the table behind her, fingers curling over the edge, Lauren’s eyes fluttered closed as the Morrigan’s fingers deftly slid inside her. There was a moan, a whimper, the offering of her neck with an arch, the feel of the Morrigan’s lips as she accepted the invitation.
It would be so easy to give in, Lauren knew. She was already giving in, yet, there was still a part of her that fought it. The sliver of hope Lauren still clung to.
“Oh Lauren,” the Morrigan cooed. “This is why you will always be my favorite.”
Lauren braced herself as the Morrigan brought their lips together. Lauren mewled, opening her lips, her hands finding the Morrigan’s shoulders and draping around them. Kissing the Morrigan was like standing at the edge of a volcano, blast waves of roiling heat and steam burning from outside and within. She didn’t mean to compare but compare Lauren did. With Bo, there was an ebb and flow. The Morrigan was all flow, nothing but take and control.
Time no longer mattered. Lauren was semi-cognitive of no longer being in the chair, the feel of her back to the floor, shoes, jeans, panties, and the sudden lack of. None of that mattered because the Morrigan was on her, suckling lips on throbbing clit, forceful fingers in wanting pussy. And all cognitive thought was lost because there was no comparison to sex with the Morrigan. Because it wasn’t sex, it was pure orgasm, from the first touch until the Morrigan decided it was over, Lauren came. Her bones turned to jelly as her muscles twitched and spasmed, her nerve endings burned and exploded. A singular moment stretched to an eternity. Long after Lauren had no more to give, long after she’d lost consciousness. Lauren gave. The Morrigan took. Until Lauren had no more to give.
Because Lauren was the Morrigan’s. Then, now, possibly forever.
**
Lauren awoke alone. Lauren always awoke alone. The Morrigan was never one for afterglow snuggling.
She draped an arm over her eyes to shield them from the harsh glare of the laboratory lights, eliciting a long drawn out moan as skin and muscles began their loud protestations.
Sex with the Morrigan was like an amusement park ride gone horribly wrong - fun during, hard to believe one survived afterwards. More than sex sore, Lauren felt every fingernail scrape, every bruise, every bite mark. She managed to rise onto shaky legs, over exerted muscles screaming with every move. Anti-septic wipes, gauze, medical tape, Lauren cleaned herself up the best she could under the circumstances before finding her discarded clothes, thankful the Morrigan had been thoughtful enough not to rip them to shreds this time around.
“Jesus, it smells like a whorehouse in August in here.”
Lauren didn’t bother to hide her groan of frustration. “What do you want?” she asked, turning around just in time to see the disapproving eyebrow rising on Bo’s forehead.
“Whorehouse in August?” Bo sniffed derisively, folding her arms over her chest. “Just business as usual, I see.”
In a flash, the pain was gone, replaced with pure fury. As the Morrigan’s, then the Ash’s, Lauren was forbidden to display anger. And all that anger that had been building like a dam under too much water, burst forth.
“Fuck you, Bo!” Lauren hissed, finger pointing as she stomped towards Bo. “You fucking hypocritical bitch. You murdered people for years to survive. So don’t you dare judge me for how I’ve managed to survive!” They were toe to toe now and Lauren was too angry, too *furious* to notice the widening of Bo’s eyes, the defensive raising of her hands. “But you never bothered to ask how I’ve survived. You don’t want to hear. So fuck you and that succubus horse you rode in on.”
And then Lauren’s anger was gone, replaced with shock and pain. There was always pain. The pain she’d hidden behind her mask. She crumbled, shoulders sagging as she brought a hand to her face, shaky fingers covering her mouth. “I.. I’m sorry,” Lauren stammered, backing away.
“Lauren?” Bo dared a step forward. “What’s going on?”
“Nothing.” Lauren shook her head, turned her back to Bo because she could feel the tears welling. She glanced at the microscope on the table, feeling herself deflate even more. “I don’t have any new information on Dyson,” she sighed. “That’s why you’re here. That’s all you care about.”
“Lauren,” Bo said softly and Lauren could feel Bo’s hands on her shoulders. It was too much, too hard to keep the tears from falling, to hold herself together from the pain ripping her soul apart. “Hey,” Bo said, turning Lauren in her arms until they were face to face, fingers under Lauren’s chin and tilting it up. “I care.”
“That’s just it,” Lauren sniffled. “You care but not enough. Not as much as I care for you. Not as much as you care for.. him.”
“That’s not..” Bo pouted, sighed. “That’s not fair. Dyson’s in trouble.”
“Of course he is.” Lauren smiled, mustering enough energy to chuckle. She placed her hand over Bo’s, the one cupping Lauren’s cheek. She turned it, kissing the inside of Bo’s palm before stepping backwards, pulling out of Bo’s grasp. “You should go to him.”
“Lauren..”
“Bo, please,” Lauren exhaled as she closed her eyes. “If you truly care for me, you’ll go.”
When Lauren opened her eyes..
Bo was gone.
**
It was just before dawn when Lauren finally made it back to her apartment. She should have been alarmed at the light spilling out from under her door but Lauren was too exhausted to care. There was that sliver of hope, the one she’d been holding onto only to let it go because it was so hard to hold, both slippery and razor sharp.
Lauren entered her apartment. There were burning incense and candles, soft music, even a fire roaring in the fireplace.
There was also the Morrigan.
She stood by the windows, gazing outwards, wearing the silk robe she given to Lauren as a gift, a glass of wine in her hand.
“I heard about Dyson,” Lauren said, pulling off her coat then flopping down onto the couch. “I know how much you looked forward to killing him.”
The Morrigan spun around, silk robe billowing open and exposing the lack of anything underneath. “Que sera sera as they say.”
She sauntered towards the couch and, as exhausted as Lauren was she could feel her pulse beginning to rise, her mouth beginning to water. The Morrigan lifted her leg, cozily straddling Lauren’s lap. She pulled Lauren’s hands to her hips before draping her arms over Lauren’s shoulders. She leaned in, bringing their lips together. The Morrigan rarely kissed. But when she did? Lauren’s toes curled inside her boots, her body twitched and spasmed as the paroxysm took over.
“Tell me you’ve missed me,” the Morrigan breathed into Lauren’s mouth as their lips parted.
“And if it’s a lie?”
“Then lie to me,” the Morrigan smiled, danger and seduction rolled into one. The smile that had been Lauren’s undoing all those years ago. Blood and honey, she’d once described it - sharp and metallic, sweet and sticky. The Morrigan could be both when she wanted to.
So could Lauren.
She’d chosen this. She may have been naïve but it was still her choice. And considering her limited options these days, Lauren had learned that sometimes the best choice was the worst one. The Morrigan would use her. So did the Ash. So did Bo. The Morrigan would take, like the Ash, like Bo.
This time, Lauren wouldn’t be so naïve. Maybe it was the best choice, maybe it was the worst. But, it was the one choice that hurt the least. It was the one choice that didn’t leave Lauren feeling alone. There would be consequences for this decision - tomorrow, someday, eventually. Right now was all that mattered. Right now was all Lauren cared about.
She leaned forward, brushing her lips over the Morrigan’s, feeling the pulsing heat rise within her.
“I missed you.”
END
Author: trancer21
Fandom: Lost Girl
Wordcount: 2196
Rating: R
Pairing(s): Lauren/Morrigan, slight Lauren/Bo
Summary: 1x11 Lauren‘s past catches up with her.
Disclaimer: “Lost Girl”, its characters, and the situations depicted are the property of Prodigy Pictures and Showcase Television. This piece of fan fiction was written for fun and not profit.
**
Lauren inhaled for what felt like the millionth time. Slumping back in her seat, she closed her eyes as she pinched the bridge of her nose. The evidence was still preliminary but, no matter how many different ways she looked at it, her conclusion was always the same.
She didn’t have to think too long or hard as to why she was trying to clear the name of a man - no, not a man, Lauren internally chided herself for forgetting the distinction - who hated her with his entire being. It didn’t stop Lauren from questioning herself. She was doing that a lot lately, questioning herself.
The weight on her shoulders was massive, crushing. And she’d chosen long ago to not punish herself any more than necessary for bringing that weight upon herself. Her decisions back then may have been naive but, at the end of the day, they were her decisions. Lauren was a scientist. She chose science.
She was also a survivor.
She glanced about the empty lab, the dimmed lights and windows colored by a darkening sky. Lauren liked this time the best, when the lab was empty. Free of the disapproving and elitist glares of the Fae. Despite all Lauren had done for the Light, she was still nothing more than a human in their eyes, still... beneath them.
I chose this, Lauren closed her eyes and silently repeated the words that had become her mantra. Her albatross.
“I chose this.”
“Chose what, darling?”
Lauren froze, her chest seized and her blood turned to ice. It had been a long time since she’d heard her name spoken by those lips. Too long. Not long enough.
She dared herself to turn, swerving in her chair to see brown hair, darker eyes and bronzed skin poured into material red as blood that hugged every curve and every line, so sheer as to leave little to the imagination. And Lauren didn’t have to imagine much.
“What... What are you doing here?” Lauren stammered, her eyes suddenly darting about. She was a human amongst Fae, Fae that didn’t trust her. Never had and, Lauren learned too late, never would. She was nothing more than a tool, one to be used at the Fae’s leisure, and discarded just as easily should the inclination arise. Lauren was the property of the Ash, on Light Fae territory. Yet, should she be seen with..
The Morrigan chuckled low and throaty, seductive and dangerous. She sauntered deeper into the lab, hips swaying, heels clacking loudly on the linoleum.
“I’ve come for the evidence to end this charade,” the Morrigan finally spoke. She stopped several feel from Lauren’s chair, her lips curling upwards as she watched Lauren’s eyes gaze at features that weren’t the Morrigan’s eyes.
The words seemed to snap Lauren from the sudden haze clogging her brain. Her eyes snapped upwards, narrowing into hard slits as she found scraps of resolve at the bottom of the pit she’d found herself in. “What are you doing here?”
Red painted lips pulled into a smirk. The Morrigan stepped closer, placing her hands on Lauren’s knees, noting the sudden gasp the touch illicited before pushing Lauren’s knees open and stepping into the open space. The chair squeaked as it backed into the table, the Morrigan pressing her body against Lauren’s, her nose a hair’s breath from the line of Lauren’s neck as she inhaled deeply.
The Morrigan leaned back just a little, just enough, their faces inches apart. “You smell like succubus.”
Lauren winced. It had only been once. It had been weeks ago and, now, the Morrigan knew.
“You smell like succubus,” the Morrigan repeated. Her eyes went soft, concerned as she drew the backs of her fingers down Lauren’s cheek. “And yet... you look lonely.”
The Morrigan touched Lauren’s cheek and heat, pulsing and oily and molten hot, streaked straight to the apex of Lauren’s legs and still Lauren found the strength to fight it. “Does the Ash know you’re here?”
“I’m not afraid of the Ash. You...” the hand on Lauren’s face was on Lauren’s breast. Just like that, inside her shirt, inside her bra, fever warm palm and teasing fingers. “Of all people should know that.”
Lauren did know. It was always a seduction with the Morrigan. But Lauren had gone in, not with eyes quite so wide open, but eager and easily seduced. The way in had been easy. Getting out?
Lauren was still figuring out that part.
“We.. I.. can’t,” Lauren gasped as the Morrigan’s lips found that spot on Lauren’s neck seemingly created for the Morrigan. “I’m the Ash’s.”
“You were mine once,” the Morrigan purred/growled as her fingers slipped between denim, satin and skin. “And you’ll be mine again.”
Lauren felt no need to argue the point. What the Morrigan wanted, the Morrigan got. There was a time when Lauren wanted something different, hoped for something different. In an instant, hope shattered like fragile glass on a stone floor. Lauren made her choices. Now, there would be nothing but consequences.
Palms flat on the table behind her, fingers curling over the edge, Lauren’s eyes fluttered closed as the Morrigan’s fingers deftly slid inside her. There was a moan, a whimper, the offering of her neck with an arch, the feel of the Morrigan’s lips as she accepted the invitation.
It would be so easy to give in, Lauren knew. She was already giving in, yet, there was still a part of her that fought it. The sliver of hope Lauren still clung to.
“Oh Lauren,” the Morrigan cooed. “This is why you will always be my favorite.”
Lauren braced herself as the Morrigan brought their lips together. Lauren mewled, opening her lips, her hands finding the Morrigan’s shoulders and draping around them. Kissing the Morrigan was like standing at the edge of a volcano, blast waves of roiling heat and steam burning from outside and within. She didn’t mean to compare but compare Lauren did. With Bo, there was an ebb and flow. The Morrigan was all flow, nothing but take and control.
Time no longer mattered. Lauren was semi-cognitive of no longer being in the chair, the feel of her back to the floor, shoes, jeans, panties, and the sudden lack of. None of that mattered because the Morrigan was on her, suckling lips on throbbing clit, forceful fingers in wanting pussy. And all cognitive thought was lost because there was no comparison to sex with the Morrigan. Because it wasn’t sex, it was pure orgasm, from the first touch until the Morrigan decided it was over, Lauren came. Her bones turned to jelly as her muscles twitched and spasmed, her nerve endings burned and exploded. A singular moment stretched to an eternity. Long after Lauren had no more to give, long after she’d lost consciousness. Lauren gave. The Morrigan took. Until Lauren had no more to give.
Because Lauren was the Morrigan’s. Then, now, possibly forever.
**
Lauren awoke alone. Lauren always awoke alone. The Morrigan was never one for afterglow snuggling.
She draped an arm over her eyes to shield them from the harsh glare of the laboratory lights, eliciting a long drawn out moan as skin and muscles began their loud protestations.
Sex with the Morrigan was like an amusement park ride gone horribly wrong - fun during, hard to believe one survived afterwards. More than sex sore, Lauren felt every fingernail scrape, every bruise, every bite mark. She managed to rise onto shaky legs, over exerted muscles screaming with every move. Anti-septic wipes, gauze, medical tape, Lauren cleaned herself up the best she could under the circumstances before finding her discarded clothes, thankful the Morrigan had been thoughtful enough not to rip them to shreds this time around.
“Jesus, it smells like a whorehouse in August in here.”
Lauren didn’t bother to hide her groan of frustration. “What do you want?” she asked, turning around just in time to see the disapproving eyebrow rising on Bo’s forehead.
“Whorehouse in August?” Bo sniffed derisively, folding her arms over her chest. “Just business as usual, I see.”
In a flash, the pain was gone, replaced with pure fury. As the Morrigan’s, then the Ash’s, Lauren was forbidden to display anger. And all that anger that had been building like a dam under too much water, burst forth.
“Fuck you, Bo!” Lauren hissed, finger pointing as she stomped towards Bo. “You fucking hypocritical bitch. You murdered people for years to survive. So don’t you dare judge me for how I’ve managed to survive!” They were toe to toe now and Lauren was too angry, too *furious* to notice the widening of Bo’s eyes, the defensive raising of her hands. “But you never bothered to ask how I’ve survived. You don’t want to hear. So fuck you and that succubus horse you rode in on.”
And then Lauren’s anger was gone, replaced with shock and pain. There was always pain. The pain she’d hidden behind her mask. She crumbled, shoulders sagging as she brought a hand to her face, shaky fingers covering her mouth. “I.. I’m sorry,” Lauren stammered, backing away.
“Lauren?” Bo dared a step forward. “What’s going on?”
“Nothing.” Lauren shook her head, turned her back to Bo because she could feel the tears welling. She glanced at the microscope on the table, feeling herself deflate even more. “I don’t have any new information on Dyson,” she sighed. “That’s why you’re here. That’s all you care about.”
“Lauren,” Bo said softly and Lauren could feel Bo’s hands on her shoulders. It was too much, too hard to keep the tears from falling, to hold herself together from the pain ripping her soul apart. “Hey,” Bo said, turning Lauren in her arms until they were face to face, fingers under Lauren’s chin and tilting it up. “I care.”
“That’s just it,” Lauren sniffled. “You care but not enough. Not as much as I care for you. Not as much as you care for.. him.”
“That’s not..” Bo pouted, sighed. “That’s not fair. Dyson’s in trouble.”
“Of course he is.” Lauren smiled, mustering enough energy to chuckle. She placed her hand over Bo’s, the one cupping Lauren’s cheek. She turned it, kissing the inside of Bo’s palm before stepping backwards, pulling out of Bo’s grasp. “You should go to him.”
“Lauren..”
“Bo, please,” Lauren exhaled as she closed her eyes. “If you truly care for me, you’ll go.”
When Lauren opened her eyes..
Bo was gone.
**
It was just before dawn when Lauren finally made it back to her apartment. She should have been alarmed at the light spilling out from under her door but Lauren was too exhausted to care. There was that sliver of hope, the one she’d been holding onto only to let it go because it was so hard to hold, both slippery and razor sharp.
Lauren entered her apartment. There were burning incense and candles, soft music, even a fire roaring in the fireplace.
There was also the Morrigan.
She stood by the windows, gazing outwards, wearing the silk robe she given to Lauren as a gift, a glass of wine in her hand.
“I heard about Dyson,” Lauren said, pulling off her coat then flopping down onto the couch. “I know how much you looked forward to killing him.”
The Morrigan spun around, silk robe billowing open and exposing the lack of anything underneath. “Que sera sera as they say.”
She sauntered towards the couch and, as exhausted as Lauren was she could feel her pulse beginning to rise, her mouth beginning to water. The Morrigan lifted her leg, cozily straddling Lauren’s lap. She pulled Lauren’s hands to her hips before draping her arms over Lauren’s shoulders. She leaned in, bringing their lips together. The Morrigan rarely kissed. But when she did? Lauren’s toes curled inside her boots, her body twitched and spasmed as the paroxysm took over.
“Tell me you’ve missed me,” the Morrigan breathed into Lauren’s mouth as their lips parted.
“And if it’s a lie?”
“Then lie to me,” the Morrigan smiled, danger and seduction rolled into one. The smile that had been Lauren’s undoing all those years ago. Blood and honey, she’d once described it - sharp and metallic, sweet and sticky. The Morrigan could be both when she wanted to.
So could Lauren.
She’d chosen this. She may have been naïve but it was still her choice. And considering her limited options these days, Lauren had learned that sometimes the best choice was the worst one. The Morrigan would use her. So did the Ash. So did Bo. The Morrigan would take, like the Ash, like Bo.
This time, Lauren wouldn’t be so naïve. Maybe it was the best choice, maybe it was the worst. But, it was the one choice that hurt the least. It was the one choice that didn’t leave Lauren feeling alone. There would be consequences for this decision - tomorrow, someday, eventually. Right now was all that mattered. Right now was all Lauren cared about.
She leaned forward, brushing her lips over the Morrigan’s, feeling the pulsing heat rise within her.
“I missed you.”
END