#By jealous I mean he's regretting not hitting wick over the head with his tire iron when he had the chance

[hot-coco]

I'd like to imagine that after his head injury, everytime Rocky sees Wick he'll just have this weird unfocused stare

My idea poorly illustrated

[beomcoups]

I’m Sorry

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: idol!Jaehyun (NCT) x femme reader

𝐆𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: angst, smut, fluff, loves to exes au, idol au

𝐑𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠: R(18+)

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: heavy emotions, small drinking, kissing, fingering, oral (f.receiving), missionary, Jaehyun hits it from the back, choking, nipple play, slight nail digging into skin. 

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬: 2.5k

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: It’s been months since you and Jaehyun have broken up and you thought you would be okay, until he asked you to come over. 

You know you shouldn’t be here, standing outside his door. You two are no good to each other, you fight more than you make up, and you’ve both been hurt so many times; yet, when he called, you came running. 

 You’ve been broken up with Jaehyun for months, your last fight so brutal that you vowed to never see each other again. It worked for a while, distracting yourself with work and blocking him from all social media. You felt strong and confident that you could get through this and that you can move on from him. But then you saw him on your friend’s Facebook page at dinner, his handsome dimpled face catching you off guard as you watched your mutual friend celebrate their birthday. It angered you, seeing him happy and without a carefree in the world while you had to pull yourself together and go through life without him. 

Yet, as mad as you were, the happy memories you two shared flooded your mind, and your heart sank from the loneliness you had to bear and the feelings you have from missing him. When you think of Jaehyun, you get emotional, almost sick even; the love you have for him is greater than anything you experienced. He wasn’t your first love, your first kiss or your first sexual experience, but meeting him on that sunny afternoon on the beach changed your life. He understood your fears and your innermost thoughts and had a way of speaking that calmed your restless soul. Jaehyun has a wicked sense of humor and a kindness that melted your heart beyond words. He took you on spontaneous dates and would buy you flowers because he knew you loved them. His impeccable features and his sex drive were only pluses in the relationship that made you feel like he was the one; that you could be with him forever. 

But his duties as an idol started to keep him away, and you knew that being with him came with that risk. You thought you could handle it, not being able to see him for weeks at a time and sometimes months if he was out of the country. The facetime and skype calls lasted for a while until those slowly started to fade, and you were staring at your phone at night, wondering when he would call. It didn’t help see him on tv, flirting with other women and showing off his charms that made you fall in love with him. You saw red when you saw him escort that famous actress to their premiere with his hand on her back. You have never been the jealous type, but seeing the man you love and have not seen in weeks with someone else set you ablaze. You pleaded with Jaehyun to carve out some time for you, even if it was just for an hour, but he always claimed he was too tired or busy. So you got fed up, marched over to his dorm unannounced and gave him a piece of your mind. He called you selfish and insecure, and that hurt you to the core. You screamed at him, throwing the promise ring he bought for you at his chest and broke up with him. You stormed out of the dorm, the members pretending that they didn’t hear anything, but you knew deep in your heart that they heard it all, and it just added more to your embarrassment. 

As the months went by, you thought about that night often, what you could have done differently and if you would still take him back. So many nights, you held your phone in your hand, wanting to dial his number and make it alright. You hate him for letting you leave, but you love him just as much, so when he asked you to come over, it was a no brainer. So with a bit of liquid courage, you made your way to him, holding your breath all the way. 

𝐉𝐚𝐞𝐡𝐲𝐮𝐧’𝐬 𝐏𝐎𝐕

Seeing Y/N again after all these months was like a breath of fresh air. She walked into Jaehyun’s room, beautiful as ever, her hair down in all its shiny glory, her skin glowing like the yellow orb in the sky. She is wearing that oversized sweater he bought her when he came back from tour, with shorts that show off those legs he loved to be in between. She smiled at him as she came in, but behind those beautiful eyes held a sadness he knew because of him, and he would do anything to take it away. Jaehyun is hopelessly in love with her, and there is no him without her. Y/N keeps him sane and anchored when he feels like he is going out of control. She understands him better than anyone and takes care of him, nurturing him with her sweet words and kind actions. Jaehyun’s never been able to convey how much she truly means to him, and he regrets letting her go. Seeing her in front of him brings colors into his gray world, and he needs her. 

“So,” she stands there, twiddling her fingers as she sits down on the bed. “How have you been?”

He rakes his fingers through his hair, unsure how he should answer. Jaehyun wants to be honest with Y/N and kiss her beautiful face, but his pride will not let him. Instead, he leans back against his desk and folds his arms, trying to keep his cool demeanor. 

“I’ve been okay, I suppose,” he clears his throat. 

There is awkward dead silence, and he would be a liar if he said his heart wasn’t jumping out of his chest. He’s never been good with expressing his feelings, and it took a lot of courage and convincing from his members to give Y/N a call.

“You know you miss her, man,” his member Johnny voice rings through his head. “Just call her. The worst thing she can say is to fuck off or not respond at all.”

“So what have you been up to?” Jaehyun questioned, attempting to break the ice. 

“Nothing really,” she sighs. “Just work work work.”

The deafening silence comes back, and Jaehyun is panicking, unsure what to say next. He doesn’t want to push things too fast and scare her away but damn it, he wants to be with her. 

“What am I doing here, Jaehyun?” Y/N  interrogates him, catching him off guard. “If you called me here for small talk, we could have done this over the phone.”

“I didn’t invite you here for small talk,” Jaehyun swore, his eyes pleading with her. 

“So why am I here-”

“I miss you,” he blurts out, his voice echoing in the walls. “I fucking miss you, and I want you back.”

Her eyes widen, shocked at Jaehyun’s revelation, and he continues to confess how he feels. 

“I was a fucking idiot for letting you walk out that door,” he laments, taking a seat in his chair. “At the time, when we were fighting, I felt like I was suffocating. I had comeback schedules and movie premieres to go to, and I didn’t want to let you down, but I felt like I was being pulled in different directions from everyone. So when you yelled at me, I got frustrated and lashed out at you instead of listening. I’m sorry about that.”

Watching Y/N’s eyes well up with tears broke his heart, and he wanted to kiss her pain away and make her whole again. Jaehyun yearned for her, and he was not letting her go again. 

“You called me selfish and insecure,” Y/N sniffled, wiping her tears with her sweater. “That really hurt me.”

“I’m sorry,” Jaehyun gets up and softly grabs her hand, wiping the tears from her eyes. “I shouldn’t have said that. I was feeling like you were not hearing me and you yelling at me made me feel like I was backed into a corner.”

“So you couldn’t handle me expressing how I feel?” Y/N criticized him, taking her hand away from him. “You were barely talking to me, and to see you on tv and flirting with these women, it made me snap.”

“So that made it okay for you to barge into the dorm at 1am and scream at me?!” Jaehyun rebutted, staring deep into her eyes. “You embarrassed me and wouldn’t let me get a word in. You called me a coward and accused me of cheating on you. God Y/N, I would never do that to you. I love you and respect you too much to lose your trust like that.”

Y/N looks down, twiddling her fingers once more, tears falling down her cheeks. He moves closer to her, wiping more tears from her eyes and lifting up her chin.

“Do you still love me?”

Y/N looks at him, her eyes already telling it all before she could answer. 

“Yes, Jae, I love you,” she confesses. “I couldn’t stop loving you if I tried.”

Jaehyun’s heart flutters at her soft words, and a wave of relief washes over him. It felt good to hear that she still loved him after all these months have passed, and caught up in the moment, he kisses her deeply. 

“I’m sorry, he apologizes, giving her space. “I should have asked if that was okay.”

“It’s okay,” she says softly, gazing at him lovingly. “Kiss me again.”

(𝐘/𝐍’𝐬 𝐏𝐎𝐕)

Jaehyun kisses you, and it feels like home, like you finally found the missing piece to your puzzle of your soul. You give into him completely, sliding your hands underneath his shirt, feeling his toned abs before taking off his shirt. You pause to gauge his response, and he smiles, whispering that he loves you and that he’s sorry. You nod and kiss him again, allowing his hands to roam around your ass before giving it a tight squeeze.

“I missed you,” he breathes in between kisses. 

“Did you?” you tease him, fumbling with the button on your shorts.

He undoes the button for you and slides your jean shorts off for you, laying you down on the bed as he climbs on top of you. He holds back for a moment, admiring your beauty before continuing his onslaught of kisses, trailing down to your neck. His cool hands slide up your sweater, unhooking the front of your bra and softly rubbing your mounds. You bite your lip in an attempt to hold back your moans, the electricity sparking from each touch.

“I’m never going to hurt you again,” he promises, lifting up your sweater and revealing your breasts. 

He cups them and puts them in his mouth, sucking on each nipple tentatively and with such care. Your center is dripping, and you slide your hands down to your panties, softly rubbing yourself. He takes notice of your action and trails his kisses down your stomach, nipping you lightly until his face is in between your legs. He pulls your panties to the side, taking a long swipe of your sweet nectar before diving in. 

“ Oh my god,” you moan, taking a fistful of his hair.

He ravages you, lavishing his tongue at your entrance and sucking on your clit, his nail dug dip into your hip. Your moans get increasingly louder, and he slides two fingers in you, your walls already convulsing around him. 

“You gotta be quiet for me, baby, okay?” Jaehyun whispers, slowly thrusting in and out of you. “I don’t want everyone to hear us.”

You nod feverishly, covering your mouth as you fall into a euphoric state, being finger fucked by the love of your life. He returns his mouth to your clit, your legs buckling on impact, your hand pulling his hair tighter. You create a rhythm on his tongue, slow fucking his face until you feel yourself reaching your breaking point. 

“Baby…” you moan, your stomach coiling. “I’m almost here.”

He suddenly removes his fingers out of you, shoving down his grey sweats and revealing his hard dick, eager to be inside of you. He lifts your leg up and slams into you, making you yelp from impact. 

“It’s been way too long,” he groans, slow stroking your tight cunt. 

Jaehyun allows you to get used to his size before increasing his pace, the lust in his eyes evident. Your hunger for him in insatiable, begging him to fuck you harder, not caring about the bed hitting the wall loud enough to wake everyone up. You lifted up your shirt and pinched your nipples, slapping them because you knew he liked that, and you like the slight pain from it. 

“You are so sexy,” his breathless praise of you makes you hotter and want more of him.

He slides his hand on your throat, holding a firm grip as he continues to plunge deep inside of you. You try your best to cover your moans with your hand, but then your stomach coils, signaling your release. You tap his shoulder feverishly, and he pulls out and flips you over, taking you from behind.

“I’m not done with you yet,” he growls, slamming into you with such force you almost fall off the bed. 

Jaehyun grips your hair tightly, skin slapping filling the walls in the room, and he fucks you into the mattress, releasing his feelings from missing you all into this moment. He tells you he loves you over and over, and you believe him, not wanting this moment to end. You grip the sheets tightly, warning him of the upcoming rapture that was ripping through you. 

“Go ahead, baby,” he encourages you. “Cum for me.”

You scream his name in the sheets, your orgasm rushing through and all over him, your insides convulsing on his dick. He shudders and pulls out shortly after, emptying himself on your ass and giving it a small smack. You collapse on the bed, your legs sore and shaking, unable to move. 

“That was…” you start to say.

“Amazing,” Jaehyun finishes your sentence, leaning over and kissing your sweaty forehead. 

You both laugh in unison, and you slowly sit up, admiring the physique of the man you love. 

“Hey Jae,” you call him softly, holding your hand out for him to take. “I don’t want to fight like that and be away from you that long ever again.”

He nods and smiles, giving you a deep kiss before pulling you into a hug. 

“Me neither, baby,” he agrees. “These months without you have been hard. I felt like a piece of me was missing.”

You gaze up at him lovingly, placing a small kiss on his lips.

“It’s about time you two made up,” Johnny’s voice comes through the door. “He’s been miserable without you.”

Jaehyun sucks his teeth and throws a pillow at the door, his face red with embarrassment. 

“It’s okay,” you giggle. “I’m not going anywhere.”

[hartigays]

Rafebarry Prompt for you! So what about some of Barry’s pals being over at the trailer and they’re all just like “Damn Bro” at seeing Rafe (who’s just living his best chaotic life, being Barry’s housewife/partner in crime) and Barry’s just all smug about it like “Yeah. I’m hittin’ that. Be jealous.”

tw: mature themes (drug use, sexual implications) and some homophobic language (just a comment from some loser tho)

rafe’s bike tears through swampy grass and dirt with a vengeance as he pulls into barry’s front yard, leaving tire marks in his wake.

when he pulls off his helmet, the first thing he sees are people spilling in and out of the trailer. people rafe doesn’t recognize - some of them attractive, even.

which is… infuriating, to put it lightly.

barry clearly hadn’t felt the need to keep rafe in the loop, inviting him over without informing him that half of the cut would be in attendance as well.

like, seriously, what the fuck? rafe had thought - well. he’d intended to come here to pick up some blow, and maybe, possibly, perhaps let barry have his way with him while he’s at it.

barry can’t have his way with him if half the population of north carolina is stacked up inside the trailer. and that’s just. frustrating.

rafe kind of wants to drive his bike straight through the trailer, mowing some partygoers down and end this whole shebang right here and now. but, as barry has made explicitly clear time and time again, rafe is Not Allowed to harm and/or kill people on his property.

it’s sometimes irritating, this whole thing they’ve started. this casual fling that’s maybe not-so-casual anymore considering rafe agreed to be exclusive with barry not even two days ago.

there are just. so many rules, like no maiming, or killing, or… actually, that’s about it. but that’s two rules too many. rafe doesn’t like rules, or being told what he can or can’t do.

barry is just lucky rafe likes him. kind of. sort of. somewhat.

otherwise, barry would be drifting along the bottom of the ocean somewhere, flesh being nibbled away at by fish and sharks and the like.

rafe flings his helmet towards his bike, not bothering to see if it landed anywhere convenient, before storming across the yard and shoving himself through a cluster of people to get inside the trailer.

barry is sitting on the couch, all sorts of people surrounding him, looking like he’s already fucked up beyond belief.

which is also annoying, because he was supposed to get fucked up beyond belief with rafe, then mandhandle rafe into bed to have his wicked way with him. like always.

“ayy, country club!” barry practically shouts over the noice, his accent even thicker and more drawn out than usual. “you made it!”

“yeah, barry, i made it,” rafe snaps, then sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose.

look, he’s not against parties or anything. actually, he’s quite in favor of them. he just… did not plan for his day to go like this.

rafe wanted barry’s full attention, which is now virtually impossible given the amount of bodies that are currently filling the room.

barry just looks at rafe with glazed eyes, leaning back casually against the couch cushions. “aw, don’t you go pouting on me ‘n shit, rafe cameron. ain’t you always down for a party or some shit like that?”

“a little heads up would’ve been nice,” rafe tells him, his temper rearing it’s ugly head again and bleeding into his voice. “look, can i just get my shit so i can get out of here?”

rafe moves around the coffee table, elbowing a few drunk idiots out of his way as he does. barry eyes him as he comes closer, before suddenly swinging one arm out and wrapping it around rafe’s waist. he ropes rafe in close enough that rafe stumbles a bit over barry’s feet, sprawling right into his lap.

“see, ain’t that more like it, country club?” barry purrs, his lips pressed against rafe’s ear.

rafe feels a shiver rocket down his spine, but also a flare of anxiety.

barry is certainly fucked up beyond comprehension, and they haven’t exactly talked about making their relationship public. rafe has no idea if this is something barry will regret in the morning and end up cutting rafe off.

but to be fair, if barry did wake up and decide to tell rafe to fuck off, rafe would probably just kill him. he might just kill him anyway, just because he feels like it.

and since barry’s inevitable death is hurtling towards them at breakneck speed, rafe might as well enjoy barry’s final moments while he can.

so he lets barry kiss him, full on the mouth, on display for the hundred or so other people milling about the room.

rafe, regrettably, makes a strangled noise in the back of his throat when he feels barry’s tongue dip into his mouth, sweeping across his own.

regrettably, because some fucking weird ass next to barry leans in close to watch. rafe can see the movement out of the corner of his eye.

but barry isn’t deterred. he might be a little encouraged, even, because he deepens the kiss even more, pressing in so close that rafe feels like they could crawl inside of each other and form one cohesive nightmare of a person.

“ain’t peg you for a fag, barry,” the guy comments, his words slurring. he burps after he speaks, and barry detaches his lips from rafe to look over at the source of the noise.

“the fuck you just say to me?” barry snaps, digging his fingers into rafe’s hips to keep him in place when rafe moves to get up, ready to just slit this guy’s throat and be done with it. “ain’t you in my damn house, fuckass? who the fuck you think you’re talkin’ to?”

“hey, man, didn’t mean no offense,” the guy says, raising his hands in mock surrender before burping again. “jus’ askin’.”

“getcho’ dumbass out my house, bro,” barry tells him, removing one hand from rafe’s hips for only a moment, just to shove the guy out of his seat.

the still nameless man just shrugs, gulping down the remnants of his beer before getting up and disappearing into the crowd.

“i think you guys are cute,” a girl giggles from where she’s seated, across from the couch rafe and barry are currently planted on.

barry looks up at rafe, and it’s almost fond and god, that’s disgusting. rafe wants to soak himself in it, let it marinate until it’s deeply ingrained in every fiber of his being.

“sho’ are,” barry agrees with her, still looking up at rafe. he’s got one hand beneath rafe’s shirt now, nails raking over his back.

rafe shudders, wishing he could dissolve every person in this room right this very moment so he can curl up inside barry and make a home there.

“gotta say, ‘m a little jealous, man,” some other guy pipes up from barry’s other side.

rafe looks over at him, one brow arched, finding the guy staring right back as he hits some sort of pipe.

probably filled with meth, based on the state of the guy’s teeth.

classy.

“guess you just gon’ have to be jealous, then,” barry tosses back, not bothering to spare the guy a glance before returning his mouth to rafe’s.

the party comes and goes, faster than rafe anticipated, but that maybe can be attributed to the fact that barry keeps rafe glued to him at all times, practically devouring him every chance he can get, and showing him off to every person who happens to look their way.

rafe will admit, it’s a little satisfying, knowing how proud barry is to have staked his claim. he’s surprised that he’s so okay with barry being so possessive of him, too.

rafe cameron normally does not like the idea of being owned by anyone or anything. at least, he hadn’t up until now.

at this point, he’s pretty sure he’d let barry put a dog collar on him that reads property of barry the coke dealer, without complaint.

now, lounging in barry’s bed, sweat-soaked and panting, rafe sparks a blunt. he takes a long hit and passes it to barry.

“you did this on purpose,” rafe says, knowingly.

barry just grins up at the ceiling like a shark, shrugging as he hits the blunt.

“you’re pretty, rafe cameron. and you’re mine,” barry tells him, passing the weed back. “what’s it hurt to show off a little? you ain’t die or nothing.”

“never said it was a bad thing,” rafe snorts. “just maybe give me a little warning next time you plan to parade me around as your trophy wife.”

“like you ain’t get off on all them people talking ‘bout how jealous they are that i get to have you.”

barry has a point, rafe will admit. not out loud, mind you, but still. in the quiet of his mind, where no one else can hear, he agrees with barry wholeheartedly.

“can you blame them? i mean, look at me,” rafe says with a snooty little sniff, running a hand along his jaw. “you landed yourself a masterpiece. people are gonna notice.”

“you so damn full of yourself, country club,” barry snorts. “imma have to knock that ego down a peg. i been too nice to you.”

“says the guy whose ego grew ten times larger just by being a show-off about his boyfriend.”

barry rolls over onto his side, watching rafe hit the blunt with heavily-lidded eyes. “boyfriend, huh? ain’t we a bit old for that?”

“you literally called me your boyfriend like, fifty times today. do not even- ”

barry shuts him up mid-sentence by taking the blunt from rafe’s hand and putting it out on the ashtray next to the bed, tangling his fingers in rafe’s hair, and pulling him in for a kiss that’s all tongues and teeth.

rafe wanted to finish his sentence, had planned on finishing it, but barry doesn’t give him the chance. not with the way he’s kissing him right now.

within a matter of moments, rafe forgets what he was planning to say in the first place. but whatever, he’s fucking tired, barry feels good and smells good and tastes good. so what if he’s a trophy wife, so what if he may or may not get off on people being jealous that barry gets to date him. to own him.

it’s all arbitrary.

instead of figuring out what he was going to say, rafe breaks away from barry’s lips, fastening his mouth to barry’s neck and biting down.

his teeth sink in deep, and he hopes with everything he has left in him that it leaves a scar.

[discoscoob]

Your Judgement | Loki x Female Reader

Loki (Marvel) x Doctor Who

Loki loses control in more ways than one and secrets are revealed, leaving you with a decision to make.

Part Two | Part Four | Chapter Index

Words: 6.6k

Warnings: angst, threats, blood and injury (this makes it sound a lot worse than it actually is)

Read on AO3

Loki despised feeling out of control. Everyone had always told him how to behave, what to say, what to do, who to be and he thought he had finally escaped all that, he had found the power that he had always sought after, he finally felt a sense of ownership over himself and it was so quickly snatched from him right under his nose in the worst possible way.

 Sure it was suffocating on Asgard and yes he was being influenced by the mind stone on Midgard but he had never lost control quite like this before. Every movement he made wasn’t his own, his limbs moved with an invisible force, even the words coming out of his mouth weren’t his. He had been turned into a living and breathing puppet, to be used as a vessel to preserve the life of a deranged mortal who refused to die. 

 He was humiliated, how could he let a weak, insignificant Midgardian possess his body? He was a God and a supreme sorcerer, she should be no match for him but he struggled to force her out, she stubbornly clung on tight.

 The pressure in his head was intense, due to the fact his brain was being compressed to make room for Cassandra’s consciousness. For someone like Loki, who always preferred fighting with his mind over his fist, shaking someone out of his head should’ve been child’s play but the compression on his own mind was making it weaker which made him more vulnerable to her control.

 “I’m getting jealous ex vibes. I swear to God, Doctor, if my niece got possessed because you’ve got a jealous ex.” Donna warned the Doctor who looked like he was about to choke on his own saliva.

 “Her?” The Doctor screeched.

 “You should be so lucky.” Cassandra made Loki glare at the Doctor.

 “Let him go, Cassandra.” The Doctor ordered the consciousness possessing Loki.

 Cassandra made Loki pout. “And why would I do that? I finally found the secret to immortality.”

 “The psychograft you used is banned on every civilised planet, including this one, what you’re doing is illegal. All I need to do is take you into the city and hand you over to the authorities.” The Doctor warned.

 The force inside Loki’s mind made him laugh wickedly. “Oh Doctor, I wouldn’t do that if I were you.”

 “Why not?”

 “You can’t hand me over without handing Loki over too.” Cassandra explained before she suddenly gasped as if finding out a secret. “Oh, he really doesn’t want that.”

 Suddenly Loki’s body jerked, as one would when you hit the emergency breaks and he quickly slapped his palm against the wall to steady himself as his breath came out in heavy pants.

 “Get out of my head!” Loki growled, he held his eyes shut tightly which caused his eyelids to crinkle as he clenched his teeth and brought the tips of his fingers up to his temple. He strained as he tried to maintain in control of his own mind, while Cassandra fought to regain dominance.

 “Loki? Listen to my voice. You can fight her. Hold on.” The Doctor encouraged Loki who let out a frustrated cry as he attempted to force Cassandra out of his head.

 You could see the pale golden mist slowly surround him like a halo as he continued to strain, you could see how much it was exhausting him, his already compressed mind was being pushed to its limits. 

 “That’s it, Loki, you’ve almost got her out.” The Doctor continued to encourage him, as he was really starting to struggle.

 Before he could completely expel Cassandra, Loki’s mind succumbed to the fatigue of using powers while being compressed and failed him as the gold essence sunk back into his skin and he collapsed to the floor. His chest rose and fell rapidly as he panted from the exhaustion.

 “That was a very foolish thing of you to do, Loki.” Cassandra addressed the God using his own voice which sounded tired from the strain of trying to force her out. “Don’t forget, I’m inside your head. I can see everything. There are things in here that I am sure you wouldn’t want your new friends learning about, so I’d advise you to behave.” 

 The Doctor, Donna and you, glanced at each other wordlessly, as the atmosphere instantly changed. Cassandra knew she had caught everyone’s attention as she flicked Loki’s hair out of his face and watched you all through his eyes as she forced the corners of his lips to lift into a wicked smirk.

 “What do you mean?” The Doctor took the bait, and Cassandra made Loki’s smile widen in twisted delight.

 Your chest tightened with anxiety as you worried about what Loki was hiding. You weren’t daft, you were fully aware that within the two days you had spent within the company of the God, it wasn’t enough time to properly know him and it definitely wasn’t enough time to trust him. However you couldn’t deny the fact that you had developed an attachment to him and the prospect of that potentially being cut short left a feeling of despair that was difficult to ignore. 

 “Let’s just say, the God of Mischief has been up to a lot of mischief.” Cassandra made Loki chuckle at her own joke as she forced him to climb back up onto both his feet. 

 Without warning the laughter abruptly cut short and with an unexpected jerk, Loki regained control. This time he moved without hesitation or delay as both his palms filled with glowing balls of green smoke and with a loud growl that caused you to startle, the light from his palms turned into an aurora which flowed halfway across your bedroom. The golden mist evaporated from his skin more rapidly this time, as it chased after the green light. You watched on, completely captivated as the gold and green swirled together and began to intertwine. Your focus was torn away when you heard Loki collapse to the floor, completely drained after focusing all his energy on removing Cassandra from his mind while using his magic at the same time.

 “Doctor.” You heard Donna whisper and you looked up at the pair to find your auntie rapidly tapping the Time Lord on his upper arm to get his attention, while she stared across your room, the Doctor’s eyes widened when he saw what she was looking at and you looked over to see what had grabbed their attention.

 “How clever!” A figure identical to Loki, spoke with wonder as it patted itself down to check it was a solid form. “I suppose this solves all our problems.”

 “Oh this isn’t a solution,” original Loki spoke with a heavy sigh as he was still trying to catch his breath and you turned your attention back to him. “You think I would let you remain in my form forever?”

 “Well, there are worse people to spend eternity with.” Cassandra, who you realised was in control of the Loki clone, shrugged.

 “I’d throw you into the nearest burning sun before I let you stay by my side for the rest of eternity.” Loki threatened his possessed clone, his tone harsh and abrupt. “You’re an insignificant and wretched mortal who has deluded herself with the notion that she is worthy of immortality but you are nothing but a worthless creature. You don’t even have your own form to sustain you and so you live off others, like a pathetic parasite, and if you think I will allow your revolting existence seek life support through my Godly form for a whole day, much less an eternity, you’re sorely mistaken.” 

 Loki had stalked towards his carbon copy, as he spoke his monologue with such a threatening force that it had even sent shivers down your spine, despite the fact that it wasn’t even directed towards you. 

 “You best pray that the Doctor doesn’t send the both of us away, because as soon as you’re alone with me no one will be there to protect you, and since you have been inside my mind, I am sure you are fully aware of the things I am capable of doing to you.” Loki finished, once he was stood mere inches in front of his double, who was now visibly cowering away from him. 

 The light of your bedroom reflected off the moisture which had built on the waterline of the duplicates eyes, as they stared into the Gods face with pure terror. 

 The cruel things Loki had said and the intimidating manner of which he had delivered them in, struck fear through your chest. His voice had dripped with pure threat and menace, even the tone he had used when you first met him and he had trapped you against that secluded wall, paled in comparison to the one he had just used towards Cassandra. 

 Loki had unleashed a side of himself that you had yet to see, or even knew existed, and you would be lying if the things he had called Cassandra didn’t sting, of course he could’ve been speaking to her as an individual but what if he held these views towards all mortals, were you merely viewed as ‘worthless creatures’ by the immortal God?

 “Loki, that’s enough.” The Doctor had sternly told him and you weren’t sure if you imagined it but could have sworn that you saw regret flash in Loki’s eyes as soon as he turned and saw you, the Doctor and Donna all staring at him. It seemed your presence had slipped his mind while he had succumbed to his more sinister side and now he was realising you had all just witnessed it first hand, on top of Cassandra revealing that he was hiding secrets which he didn’t want any of you to discover.

 Loki opened his mouth to try and say something but nothing came out, eventually he gave up and let his lips form a thin line as his head tilted downwards to avoid all your eyes.

 Silence laid heavily over the room as no one wanted to be the first one to break it, what could anyone possibly say after that? After a short period of time you heard footsteps softly tap against the floor and you looked up and saw Loki lower himself into your armchair. He rested his elbow upon the armrest and cradled his chin in his hand, covering his face from the nose down with his fingers as they anxiously rubbed over his lips. It appeared as though he had a million thoughts racing through his mind, you couldn’t help but wonder what they were.

 “I think, I would like to leave now.” Cassandra eventually announced.

 The Doctor had explained to her that he could take her into the city where they would provide her with a skintank for her consciousness to live in and she was more than happy to go anywhere the Doctor took her as long as it was away from Loki.

 “I thought you of all people, Doctor, would be careful with the kind of people you let travel with you.” You heard her quietly comment, as she made her way out of your bedroom, the Doctor paused under the doorway and looked at Loki, while he considered what Cassandra had said before he silently turned and followed her to the control room.

 “Are you coming?” Donna looked at you, ready to follow behind the Doctor. 

 You had noticed the way the Doctor looked at Loki and you realised he was considering whether or not he should allow him to stay on the TARDIS, before you turned your attention back to Loki, observing the way he seemed lost in his own world. 

 The way he had lost his temper had startled you, however you didn’t believe his reaction towards Cassandra was unwarranted. You knew exactly what it felt like to have her inside your mind, controlling your body like a puppet. It felt violating. You weren’t sure whether or not his threats toward her were empty, you were sure that was something you didn’t want to find out, but either way Loki hadn’t actually laid a single finger on her, so it seemed as though his tactic was just to frighten her. It may have not been the most conventional approach but it had worked and as a result the Doctor was now taking her to the city.

 “I think I’ll stay here.” You decided.

 Donna didn’t say anything but she glanced over to Loki, who was still slumped in your armchair, his gaze unmoving from the floor, and you understood that she was nervous to leave you alone with him.

 “I’ll be fine.” You assured her, despite the fact that you couldn’t say for certain that you would be, but you wanted to try and talk with Loki. You knew that there was a lot that the Doctor would want to discuss with him after he returned from the city and if you could talk with Loki beforehand, one to one, maybe you could help him.

 “If you’re sure...” Donna sighed, clearly not happy about leaving you alone with Loki but she knew that you were an adult and responsible for your own choices and she respected that. After leaving a kiss on your temple, she reluctantly made her way out your room. Pausing under your doorway she looked between you and Loki with a sigh and you could see the worry all over her face but you gave her a reassuring smile, which she returned, before she finally disappeared down the corridor to join the Doctor.

 You weren’t even sure if Loki was aware of his surroundings anymore as he had hardly moved an inch since he collapsed into that seat. He didn’t even seem to notice that it was only you and him left in your room as you cautiously made your way towards him. Once you were stood around a meter in front of him you stopped and he still hadn’t registered your presence, if he had, he wasn’t acknowledging it.

 “Loki?” You softly spoke.

 The God slightly jumped as his gaze caught yours, he looked startled before his eyes bounced around the room and then finally rested back on you.

 “Where is everyone?” He asked, his voice small, it was the softest you had ever heard him speak, you almost couldn’t hear him.

 “The Doctor and Donna have left to take Cassandra into the city.” You gently explained.

 “They left you alone with me?” Loki looked at you with disbelief and you looked down for a moment, realising Loki was more scared of himself right now than you were of him.

 “Loki, we need to talk.” You stated, your tone was still gentle but you tried to sound stern to make him realise you weren’t offering him a choice.

 “What is there to discuss? As soon as the Doctor returns he will hand me over to the TVA and I will be erased from existence.” Loki dismissed your proposal to talk.

 “You don’t know that.” You tried to reason, this time you crouched down, so you were balanced on the balls of your feet and you could talk to Loki from a more equal level. “I don’t know what the Doctor will decide to do when he returns but if you talk to me and explain everything, I might be able to persuade the Doctor to trust my judgment.”

 Loki seemed to consider it this time as he glanced at you, a frown formed over his face and his dark brows shadowed his eyes, which appeared to be filled with sorrow. He finally broke his eye contact with you to look down at his hands as he fidgeted with them between his spread legs.

 “Okay.” Loki agreed.

 You drew your lips together and looked around as you considered what you could address first and it was hard to ignore the one thought that was dominating your mind.

 “The things you called Cassandra... is that how you view all mortals... is that your view of me?” You asked Loki, now you were the one avoiding his gaze as you rubbed your eyebrows with embarrassment and kept your eyes on the floor.

 Due to the fact you weren’t looking at him, you missed the way Loki had instantly looked at you with eyes full of remorse, he hadn’t even realised that you might have connected his words towards Cassandra to yourself after he had addressed her as a mortal. His jaw was slack as he didn’t even know where to begin telling you how wrong you were and how you had singlehandedly gave him the power he needed to feel in control for the first time in his life.

 “Gods no!” Loki rushed to answer, mindful of the fact that if he allowed the silence to settle too long after you finished your question, it might have seemed like a confirmation that that was truly what he believed you were. 

 When you continued to avoid looking at him, Loki sighed as he pulled his palm down his face. He slid himself off of the armchair to make your heights more equal as he sank to the floor and sat with crossed legs, before he continued, determined to rectify your belief of how he perceived you. 

 “Listen to me, you hold so much power. You have done more for me in two days than anyone else has in my thousand years of existence and you don’t even realise it. I think what... daunts me the most about you all learning the things which Cassandra had mentioned I wouldn’t want you finding out, isn’t that the Doctor might end up taking me back to the TVA. It’s the fact that you will see me as everyone else does, validating that they were right about me all along, and when you inevitably do, it will strip me of the control I have felt over myself these last few days, because you were the one who bestowed it upon me. Someone who holds that much power could never be a worthless creature.” Loki confessed and you furrowed your brows as you lifted your head to look up at him, processing what he was telling you because it was a lot to take in, you weren’t even sure you understood what he meant. How could you have been the one who gave him his sense of control over himself, what had you even done?

 “How... how did I do that?” You asked in disbelief. 

 “Everyone I have ever known in my life has always decided who I was before even getting to know me, but you had no preconceived notions about me when we met. For the first time I had control over who I could be and who someone could see me as, you gave me that control.” He explained to you.

 “Loki, that sounds like manipulation.” You realised with alarm. “You can’t just control which parts of yourself you decide to let someone see and expect their perception of you to be an accurate one.”

 The God paused, seemingly taken aback as if he was realising this for the first time and once it sunk in he looked genuinely ashamed.

 “You can control who you are, but you can’t control how people see you and how people see you, doesn’t control who you are. Does that make sense?” You tried to explain to Loki, who was staring at nothing in particular as he attempted to grasp what you were telling him. 

 “But if everyone shares a certain view of me, how could that not possibly be who I truly am?” Loki argued.

 You paused for a moment, as you pondered over his question.

 “Do you believe this view people have of you to be true?” You asked Loki.

 He shrugged after he allowed himself to think about it for a moment.

 “Do you want it to be?” You asked instead.

 This time Loki didn’t need any time to think about his answer as he immediately shook his head.

 “Then, that must not be who you truly are, if it is not who you want to be.” You concluded.

 Loki looked at you with hopeful eyes before they fell to his lap as he thought about what you said.

 “I think you should tell me what it is that Cassandra said you didn’t want us learning about you.” You decided. You didn’t promise Loki that it wouldn’t change how you viewed him, that would be unwise since you had no idea what he was about to tell you, but whatever it was, you would allow him the opportunity to explain himself so that maybe you could understand.

 Loki swallowed nervously as his eyes fell to his hands and he focused on picking at some loose skin near the side of his nail. You observed him closely and you were astounded by how a powerful God could appear so vulnerable and so... human. When you saw his brows pull together with frustration as he was unable to figure out where to begin, you gently put your hand on his knee and gave him a small smile of encouragement.

 “I killed my father.” Loki finally confessed, just straight to the point as if he were ripping off a band-aid, “my biological father.” He added, to clarify. 

 Loki hadn’t delivered his confession with much emotion, however his chest and shoulders did fall ever so slightly, as if a weight was being lifted off of him. 

 As soon as the words fell from his lips, you retracted your hand from his knee and Loki lifted his eyes to watch your reaction, apart from breaking physical contact you tried to not react, keeping your expression as neutral as possible.

 “Why?” You eventually asked, sticking with your decision to let him explain.

 “To prove my loyalty to Odin – my adoptive father, and to Asgard.” Loki explained, before elaborating. “Laufey, my biological father, was the King of Jotunheim and an enemy of Asgard. The realms were on the brink of war after my brother, Thor, lead an attack on Jotunheim, as a result, Odin banished him to Midgard as punishment. During the attack, I had discovered my true heritage as a frost giant while fighting by my brothers side. When I confronted Odin about it, he told me he had found me abandoned in a temple on Jotunheim, during one of his attacks and he took me with the plan to use me to unite the two kingdoms and form an alliance. Suddenly everything made sense, why he had always favoured Thor, how could a frost giant ever be worthy? Much less the King of Jotunheim’s unwanted, bastard son.” Loki’s voice dripped with disgust and you saw moisture gather in his eyes but he quickly blinked it away before continuing. “After I confronted him, Odin collapsed and fell into Odinsleep. With Thor banished and the King in a deep sleep, Asgard was vulnerable. I knew it was my chance to show Odin that, despite my Jotun heritage, I could be just as worthy as my brother. So I tricked Laufey into believing I had betrayed my adoptive father by luring him to Asgard with the belief he could assassinate the King as he slept, but I killed him as he was about to plunge his spear into Odin’s chest.”

 Loki hadn’t planned to share so much, especially to someone he had only known for two days, but he found that with each word that poured out of his mouth, he felt lighter and before he knew it he couldn’t stop. 

 Except for sometimes his mother, he had never really known the privilege of being listened to. He didn’t know how you were going to react to what he told you but you had listened and he hadn’t realised how much he truly needed that until now.

 You were stunned to silence by everything you had just heard Loki tell you. What flooded your heart with so much sorrow that it weighed heavy in your chest, was the way Loki had spoken about himself being unworthy and unwanted, you had decided in that moment that you couldn’t let him be kicked off the TARDIS and abandoned again. After learning about the kind of example Odin set his two sons, you thought Loki’s actions were hardly surprising and despite what Loki had said about Odin favouring Thor, you couldn’t help but think about the fact that Odin had punished Thor for leading an attack on Jotunheim, when he himself had done the same. Instead of holding himself accountable and teaching his sons to not make the same mistakes he had, he let them follow in his footsteps and then punished them for doing so. He raised Loki to see his own father as an enemy and he kept the truth from him, and you imagined that he probably never would’ve told Loki about his true heritage had he not discovered it for himself.  

 You struggled to gather together the words which felt right to say in the moment, wondering what words of wisdom, which you had collected over your 20-something years, would be worth something to the centuries old God. Despite not knowing what Loki might have needed to hear, you knew of something that he needed, and that was a place to belong.

 “I’m going to talk to the Doctor as soon as he comes back and I’ll make sure you get to stay.” You promised him, as you once again returned your hand to his knee and offered him a reassuring smile. 

 Loki’s brows pulled together and his lips fell slightly apart, as he stared at your hand before his eyes travelled up your arm and connected with yours. He studied your expression carefully, trying to find any hints of fear, disgust or doubt. Being the God of lies, he could sense when people were lying or trying to deceive him, but you looked at him with nothing but sincerity. 

 Loki’s eyes dropped to your hand again and he was conflicted. He was in a state of disbelief over the fact that you still wanted to support him after everything he confessed, however you failed to realise that there was still one secret remaining to be divulged. You had assumed he revealed everything, he could have easily gone along with it and increased his chances of maintaining his place on the TARDIS. He would be lying if he said that wasn’t tempting, deceiving people was second nature to him, however when he looked back into your eyes and saw how much compassion they held towards him, compassion he was certain he didn’t deserve, he couldn’t find it in his heart to deceive you.

 Unlike almost everyone else in his life, you had shown him an unlimited amount of kindness and understanding. Most times when he tricked, double crossed or misled people, he believed they deserved it but to do that to you would just be cruel and it was not a level of cruelty which Loki possessed. 

 So, reluctantly Loki took a gentle hold of your wrist and removed your hand from his knee and returned it to your side.

 “I can’t let you promise me that.” Loki rejected you.

 “You’re right, I shouldn’t promise something which is beyond my control but–“ You misinterpreted what he meant.

 “No,” Loki quickly cut you off, “I can’t let you because there’s still one more thing I haven’t told you and I think once I do, you will change your mind.” Loki explained. 

 You remained silent, though you felt anxious about what he might confess, you were also struck by the fact he chose honesty. If he wanted to, he could have easily played along, let you believe he had confessed everything and secure his place on the TARDIS, yet he put it in jeopardy just to ensure that you weren’t misguided and you couldn’t help but admire that. You believed it was a testament to his character which you decided you wouldn’t let go unnoticed, while you nervously waited for him to reveal his final secret.

 “After everything that happened, Odin rejected me and I fell into the hands of a mad titan. I was without purpose, he used that to his advantage and I didn’t need much convincing to join his cause. He desired to posses more power than even the mightiest of Gods, with the use of all six infinity stones. He provided me with an army and instructions to deliver him the tesseract and in return he granted me access to the mind stone. It influenced my feelings and increased my desire for power and need to prove my worthiness, and so I used the army to attack New York city, in an attempt to take over Midgard and rule it as my own.” Loki confessed. 

 You should’ve been horrified, part of you definitely was, but it was heavily diluted by your confusion.

 “I... I don’t remember any of this ever happening.” You admitted, you were very certain that you would recall a God invading one of the most famous cities in the world with an army.

 “It hasn’t happened for you yet.” Loki explained.

 “Time is confusing.” You nervously laughed before you fell silent as you let what Loki told you really sink in. 

 He had attacked earth and attempted to rule over the human race. The way he spoke about it, implied that he didn’t succeed and surely if he was the King of Midgard he wouldn’t be sat on the floor opposite you right now.

 “What stopped you?” 

 “My brother and the avengers. They captured me but I got hold of the tesseract and used it to escape, I didn’t get very far before the TVA found me.”

 You had no idea who the avengers were but you assumed they were some sort of military organisation who were able to defeat Loki and his army, you imagined having the help of Loki’s brother on their side would’ve been a massive help. You considered the fact that when Loki spoke about being captured by them, he didn’t sound upset or angry about it, almost as if he didn’t really care that much about his plans for world domination. You recalled what he had said about the mind stone and how it had influenced his feelings and desires and you wondered how much it was responsible for his actions on Earth.

 “Do you think you would’ve still done it without the mind stone?” You asked him, because you considered this to be very important in judging whether or not you would advocate for his place on the TARDIS. If he believed he wouldn’t have done it without the influence of the mind stone, then his actions weren’t completely his own and therefore you wouldn’t expect him to take total blame for them.

 “No,” Loki furrowed his brows. “but I am a God, I should have not been so easily influenced.”

 “Loki, you might be a God, but you’re still a complicated and complex living being. You’re allowed to be vulnerable at times, you’re allowed to have flaws and make mistakes, you’re allowed to feel emotions and they will get the better of you and control you sometimes, it happens to all of us. Being a God doesn’t make you immune to it.” You told him, realising that Loki had a lot of work to do when it came to accepting his vulnerability.

 Loki remained silent, but it did at least seem like he was considering what you told him as he had a contemplative look on his face. Deciding to leave him in peace to think about it, you pushed yourself off the floor and began to make your way towards your door, but the broken glass, which Donna had dropped earlier, caught your attention.

 You crouched down to start cleaning it up, the bottom of the glass was still some what in tact which allowed you to gather all the broken shards inside it. As you were dropping one of the last pieces into the base of the glass, the broken side of the base pierced the palm of your hand.

 “Shit!” You cried under your breath as you quickly retracted your hand and cradled it close to your chest with your other. Blood was pooling in your palm and began running in singular drips down the side of your arm.

 Loki gasped your name and rushed over to you as soon as he noticed you were injured. Once he reached you, he lowered himself to his knees and held out his hands beside yours, but he didn’t touch you yet.

 “May I?” Loki politely asked for permission to look upon the damage caused to your hand.

 Reluctantly, you granted him access as you placed the balled up fist of your injured hand into his waiting palm. You hissed as he gently prised your fingers open and he mumbled a quick apology as he finally examined your wound.

 “Come on.” Loki encouraged you to your feet, with one of his hands under your elbow and his other still gently cradling your hand.

 You silently allowed him to move you, your eyes focused on him with wonder as he guided you into the en suite of your bedroom.

 Once he sat you down on the closed lid of the toilet, he left your side to run a fresh flannel under the faucet. Your eyes didn’t leave him once, as you watched every move he made. After wringing out the excess water of the flannel, he returned to your side and started tenderly cleaning up your cut. With all the blood cleaned away, Loki could properly inspect your wound.

 “It’s not too deep, I used to inflict much harsher wounds on my brother when we were children, a bandage should do.” Loki casually commented as if it were nothing, when he noticed your alarmed face he simply laughed.

 “Don’t worry, it wasn’t anything he couldn’t handle and he gave me his fair share in return. We’re much more resilient than mortals, it was the equivalent of human children pushing or kicking one another.” He assured you, as he opened the cupboard below the sink and searched for a first aid box.

 Your alarmed expression relaxed into a some what fond smile upon learning young Loki wasn’t actually inflicting grievous injuries upon his brother, as you imagined the siblings play fighting as children.

 “Are you close to your brother?” You asked Loki, as he returned to your side with a bandage and started wrapping your hand. For a few moments, silence fell between you and you began to think he wasn’t going to answer.

 “We used to be,” Loki finally answered, avoiding your eyes as he focused on bandaging your hand. “I admired him a lot, I still do, but I fear I have irreparably ruined our relationship.” 

 “I’m sure that’s not true.” You carefully argued.

 “I tried to kill his father.” Loki reminded you and your lips fell shut defeatedly.

 “If he is immortal, he will have plenty time to get over it.” You lightheartedly added, trying to avoid the tone of the conversation becoming too serious.

 “Maybe in 5,000 years or so.” Loki estimated as he tied off your bandage, you inspected his work while he tidied away the first aid supplies back into the cupboard.

 “I haven’t changed my mind.” You admitted to him while his back was turned to you. 

 Loki immediately paused his actions after hearing you, you caught his reflection in the mirror above the sink and watched as his expression filled with disbelief before he glanced at you from over his shoulder.

 “About... me?” He hesitantly checked, certain he had misinterpreted what you meant.

 You simply nodded and Loki looked downwards as a shy ever so slight smile curved on the corner of his lips.

  ***

  “So technically it’s New New New New New New New New New new New New York.” You heard the laughter of your auntie and the Doctor as the entered the TARDIS, and you made your way around the console.

 The Doctor stopped when you caught his eye and said your name, surprised to find you waiting in the control room, while Donna smiled at you from beside him.

 “I have to talk to you about Loki.” You told the Doctor.

 Donna’s smile instantly and was replaced with worry as her eyes dropped to your bandaged hand.

 “Did he hurt you?” She fretted, as she stepped towards you.

 “No,” You immediately assured her, glancing at your injured hand. “No, I cut myself on the glass you dropped.” 

 Donna looked down with guilt as she realised your injury was caused by her accident.

 “I think we should let him stay.” You immediately returned to your original point, deciding there was no need to dance around it.

 The Doctor sighed your name, as it seemed like he was about to disagree while Donna looked at you as if you had grown a second head.

 “Please, you can trust my judgment.” You gave your auntie your best puppy dog eyes and she tilted her head in contemplation before looking towards the Doctor, who seemed to be considering it as well.

 “What do you think?” The Doctor turned to Donna, “if you’re not comfortable with it...”

 Your auntie sighed in defeat after giving it some consideration.

 “Your judgement better be good.” She pointed her finger at you, and you smiled. 

 “It is, I promise!” At least, you hoped it was.

  ***

  Just like the night before, there came a knock on your door just as you were about to climb into bed and just like the night before, you were greeted by the sight of Loki when you opened the door.

 “Is this going to become a nightly occurrence?” You joked.

 “If you would like it to.” Loki played along.

 “So, to what do I owe the pleasure?” 

 Loki’s features dropped into a more serious expression and he took in a deep breath.

 “I realised that earlier I never got the chance to apologise.” Loki began, his hands were held behind his back, hidden from your view, so you couldn’t see the way he nervously played with them.

 “Apologise?” You questioned with a slight tilt of your head, wondering what he felt the need to be sorry for.

 “I know how violating it felt to have Cassandra inside your mind–“

 “That wasn’t your fault.” You cut him off before he could finish.

 “No, I know, but I kissed you,” Loki’s eyes were trained on the floor as he spoke and your mouth fell in the shape of an ‘o’ as you realised that is what he came here to apologise for. “And you weren’t in control–“

 “You weren’t to know,” you quickly reassured him, as heat rose to your own face as you both acknowledged what happened between you. “She kissed you first, you don’t have to apologise.”

 “Even so, I would like to,” Loki finally lifted his gaze to look at you, “I’m sorry, if you felt uncomfortable or...”

 You couldn’t admit it, but uncomfortable is not a word you would use to describe how kissing Loki had made you feel. Once the pressure had began to slip from your mind and your lips were still attached to his, you felt a wave of pleasure flush through your stomach while goosebumps rose on your skin leaving a tingling sensation in their wake. 

 You pulled yourself back from the memory as you nodded and offered Loki a smile and accepted the apology which he felt he owed you, while you tried hard to push your desire for the kiss you shared to be repeated, to the back of your mind where you hoped it would soon be forgotten. 

[bagels-and-seagulls]

Could you maybe write something about jealous hot jock David? I love all of your aus soo much!

jealous…hot jock david??? what an idea oof

bad boy matteo + hot jock david

They ran in different circles. They knew that from the beginning, that their social spheres overlapped in very limited and strange ways, that Matteo knew one of David’s teammates from his old childhood football team that he quit as soon as his mom let him, and that David knew one of Matteo’s friend’s high school infatuations because she was in the same theater production class as him one semester that was wicked with costume design, but besides a couple of people in passing, it was a miracle that David and Matteo even met with how little they seemed to have in common before they ran into each other, how little their worlds seemed to revolve around the same sun, yet still finding a way to find their way towards each other in the dark. 

Now though, now that they lived out of each other’s back pockets and tucked in between the folders in each other’s backpacks, now they shared friends and acquaintances the way they shared their future. They were a part of each other’s lives so fluidly and solidly that they were like salt and pepper, or the sun and the moon, or the ocean and the sand, not alike, not really, but only ever to exist with the other, part of a complimentary set. 

Still though, they ran in different circles. Sometimes, just sometimes, David remembered it like a punch to the gut. 

“David, man, are you even listening?” Jonas asked with a huff. 

David hums. “What? Yes, of course,” he says like he was offended Jonas would even insinuate he wouldn’t. “Your professor was talking about that study.” 

“Yeah, yeah,” Jonas starts and goes back to what he was saying before, like David had proved that he was listening enough when David was no where close to it. He took a sip of his beer, and tried to keep his eyes trained on the spot to the right of Jonas’ eye instead of looking over to where Matto was talking to some guy he had never seen before, but they were laughing like they were old pals, like they had an inside joke that David wouldn’t know about. 

David wasn’t a jealous person. Honest. He was the golden boy, the town wonder, the boy who could do little to no wrong, the type of person who was used to being fawned over, talked about by people with something like nectar stuck in their throats. He was the one people were jealous about. He was the one with the good grades, with the good looks, the good moves on and off the field… the good looking boyfriend. To be quite honest and not the least bit narcissistic, there weren’t very many people in the same league as David, not many people to really get jealous of if he were the jealous type. Which he wasn’t. Because David wasn’t jealous. Not usually. He was used to seeing Matteo lean up against Jonas, and kiss Hanna’s cheek, and dance with Hans, and split a joint with Carlos. He was fine with it. Fine. He didn’t feel anything but the normal amount of affection and second-hand joy he got when he saw that Matteo was feeling happy and open. 

So when something ugly, and bitter, and laced with rot and decay started making its way up David throat, making him feel a little bit cold, and a little bit angry, and a little bit like he wanted to pick a fight, and settled in the hinge of his jaw, he was surprised. To say the least. Pissed off. To say the most. 

He couldn’t pin it down as jealousy at first. Because he wasn’t used to jealousy normally. He thought that maybe someone had something that was a little funny, or a little off, and he was just now catching on, lagging behind the conversation, but no. He was getting it perfectly fine. What was making something a little mean and a little hot bubble up in his stomach was the sight of this boy he had never seen before bumping shoulders with Matteo, his boyfriend, sharing a smile that said there was something there, and lifting up his hand to light a joint that was between Matteo’s lips. 

David wasn’t a jealous person, so when he took a gulp of his drink and walked over to stand in front of Matteo, he was just as shocked to be over there as the pair he was in front of seemed. It almost felt like his legs were moving on their own for a second, and there he was, standing their gaping like a fish out of water, trying to find something to say, anything to make sense of what the hell he thought he was doing right now. 

“David?” Matteo asked with wide eyes and a question between his brows. 

“Hey,” David says, feeling a little bit like he was fizzling out, now that Matteo was looking at him like he was speaking in tongues, but then the boy was knocking shoulders with Matteo and tilting his head towards David like he was asking a question, and that monstrous feeling from before that made him want to come over and- and- Well, he didn’t know. Stake his claim or something. 

The thing was David isn’t usually a jealous person, just like he isn’t used to not being known, especially by the people Matteo runs with. 

“The boys were asking after you,” David says with a tight jaw at the way this guy seemed to be leaning closer and closer to Matteo by the second. 

“I’m sure they can manage a few more minutes,” Matteo said, meeting David’s gaze with something a little angry sinking behind his irises. And that feeling from before, the one that made David want to start a fight, was right there, stinging the back of his neck and demanding that he do something. 

Matteo and David stare at each other for a few more seconds, maybe even a minute or so, but the boy must get tired of the dramatics because he grips at Matteo’s shoulder and says, “Thanks for the hit, man. I gotta go,” and points somewhere behind him before pushing off the wall and peeling away. 

“Wait- Just,” Matteo calls after him, almost going as far as to reach out for his shoulder, and that- that- makes David purse his lips up and take another sip of his beer before he says something as stupid as what he’s thinking. “Fuck,” Matteo mutters and thumps his head against the wall. 

David keeps standing there, feeling a little better now that the boy was gone, but feeling a little bit worse at the same time because now Matteo is turning something mean towards him, and David doesn’t know if he’s ever seen a look like that before, not from Matteo, not to him. “You happy now?” He hisses and pushes past David and makes his way to the door. “Jesus fuck.” 

Matteo stomps out the front, and David follows him, feeling guilty and mad at the same time, feeling like they should exchange some words right now, even if he doesn’t know what kind of words they should be. 

“The fuck was that?” Matteo asks, spinning around once he’s in the nearly empty street, and throws an arm out towards the party they just left, keeping himself a few steps away, though he leans in like he’s thinking about getting in David’s space. 

“You tell me,” David throws back, feeling his heckles raise a little bit at the way Matteo was getting a little loud. “You’re the one that was flirting with him.” 

“Flirting? The fuck?” Matteo repeats like he was shocked to even hear David say something like that, like the idea was outrageous enough, and that makes David hotter, that Matteo wasn’t seeing the same thing he was. “I wasn’t fucking flirting with him. Jesus. I was trying to sell to him. I gotta make a hundred by the end of the week for my fucking rent, and that guy is usually dumb enough to buy.” 

“That makes it okay, then? Hm?” David asks, wanting to get in Matteo’s face, wanting to get louder than what was appropriate for a city street. 

“Makes it okay? I just said I wasn’t flirting with him!” Matteo repeats. 

“That’s interesting because that’s not what it looked like to me, and I’m pretty familiar with how you flirt,” David spits out, holding himself back from saying something a little more biting, trying to keep his anger under a tight enough lid that he doesn’t say something he’s going to regret as it comes out of his mouth. 

“So you’re telling me-” Matteo stops to wipe his face, like what he was thinking was waving around his face and buzzing in his ears, and then looked back up at David with just as much anger as before. “You’re telling me that you were- what? Jealous? And didn’t know how to handle it like a grown up? Jesus Christ, David.” 

“I wasn’t fucking jealous,” David denies immediately. He spits the word out like it was sour on his tongue. “I just don’t like seeing my boyfriend chatting some guy up when I’m in the fucking room.” 

“Oh, fuck off,” Matteo yells. “I wasn’t chatting him up or whatever. Just admit you were jealous!” 

“So what if I was? You’re telling me you wouldn’t do the same?” David challenges, still simmering. 

“No, I wouldn’t. I’ve never fucking pulled that shit on you, have I?” Matteo responds and throws an arm out. 

“What?” David asks after a second of watching Matteo’s breath heave out and cloud in front of them. 

“You think you’re the only one that has gotten jealous before?” Matteo says, still boiling hot, even though David feels like he was just handed a piece of the puzzle he didn’t have before. “Jesus, I don’t pull any of that kind of shit on you,” he reiterates, and now he steps close and into David’s space. He points into David’s sternum. “Could you imagine if I just stormed up when you’re talking to your co-director for the play, and he’s- fucking- touched your arm like a million times already? Or that girl on the girls team that checks you out when you turn away? Or the president of that club you’re in that laughs at everything you fucking say? Or what about-” 

“I get it. I get it. Fuck, I get it, okay?” David interrupts and grips at Matteo’s wrist. 

Matteo tugs his arm away. “Do you?” He asks and seems deflated all of a sudden, like he was drained and exhausted by this. “Do you at all?” 

And David feels it too, tired and wrung out, and this so wasn’t worth an argument over, so wasn’t worth all of this, when it ends with Matteo looking at him hurt and sad, like David wasn’t getting it again. Because David can’t ever seem to get it. Not right at least. Not the first time or the second or the third. 

The thing about complimentary sets is that they can never be one and the same. The ocean will never be able to be rough and course like the sand, and the pepper will never be the same flavor as the salt. The sun will never know what it’s like to reflect light instead of give it off, constantly stuck as the shadow of something else, and the moon will never burn from the inside out, not knowing what it’s like to turn off, not even for a moment. 

“Matteo, I-”

“Everything alright?” Someone asks, and David turns towards the door to where Jonas is standing, looking between the two of them with big eyes. 

“Yeah,” Matteo says and fall a little flat. “I was just going home.” 

“Teo,” David says and steps closer. 

“Maybe you should stay at yours tonight,” Matteo suggests, though there was no suggestion in it, and then looks over to Jonas who just ticks his mouth to the side. Matteo turns to walk away, and Jonas follows him, looking over his shoulder to watch David look on in confusion and bafflement. And David is left standing there alone, feeling a little bit hollow and like he’s got something stuck in the back of his throat, watching Matteo walk away, not even looking back. 

David makes it back to his place and through a jilted explanation to Laura about why he was home at all before he caves and sends a voice message to Matteo. “I’m sorry, Teo. I don’t know why I did that, and you’re right. I was acting like a child. And I- I’m just really sorry. I’m not used to this,” he says. 

Matteo opens it right away but doesn’t say anything back, not for at least an hour. And David stares at the chat the entire time, trying to see if it would say if Matteo was typing or not, and holds his breath when it says he is eventually. 

u can come by in the morning, it reads, and David starts planning how he’s going to grovel the whole night. 

part 2

[nah-she-didnt]

Spirits And Bones, Chapter 3 The Witch

Chapter 3 of Spirits And Bones is up now! Read here on AO3 :) 

This story is so fun to write, and so far I haven’t hit a wall story-wise, so let’s hope it keeps going smoothly!

--

Weeks went by, and soon spring crept at the corners of the earth. The snow began to thaw and new buds peaked through the warming soil. Lily would soon be able to find and harvest the plants her mother showed her a lifetime ago. She would dry Marigolds to treat stings, gather Alexanders for stomach pain, and dig up bramble roots to soothe aches and coughs. Spring had always been her favorite season. She marveled at the way every year the bleak earth was reborn into something unrecognizable once more.

The problem with Spring, Lily soon realized, is that the melting snow gave way for travel once more. One day she received a letter from Petunia who wrote that she planned to visit as soon as the roads dried enough for her carriage to move across them once more. Petunia did not include in the letter the true meaning for her visit, which Lily suspected was to check up on her progress as a wife. 

The carriage arrived a few days later, and a stout horseman leapt down from his perch above the carriage to open the door. Petunia stepped clumsily down from the carriage, grimacing as she steadied herself upon the horseman’s arm. Lily knew that touching such a lowly servant probably pained her sister. She smirked. Petunia should have thought of that before she had chosen such a gaudy dress that made it impossible for her to move freely. No doubt she chose the dress in an attempt to make her sister jealous. 

“Darling Lily,” Petunia simpered as she kissed Lily once on each cheek, “how are you? How is married life treating you?” 

Lily tried not to roll her eyes. “As well as can be expected, I suppose.” 

Petunia frowned. “You know I have never appreciated your dark humor, sister.” 

“Yes, well. Come, let’s sit in the garden. The crocuses have just begun to bloom.” Lily gestured to the gate on the low stone fence that led to her back garden. 

Petunia wrinkled her nose. “May we not sit inside? This dress is far too fine to be ruined by garden muck.” 

Soon they sat in awkward silence in front of the fireplace. Mary brought them a pot of tea and a plate of crackers. Lily watched as her sister nibbled around the corners of her cracker then placed it back onto her plate. She could not help but notice how gray her sister looked. 

“Is everything well, Petunia?” she cautioned, “are you tired from your journey?” 

At this, Petunia practically beamed. She rarely smiled, so Lily was not used to how happiness looked upon her face, but she detected a triumph in Petunia’s features that was impossible to ignore. 

“I have news,” she sighed, drawing a hand to her abdomen, “I am with child.” 

Lily blinked. “Oh,” she managed, dragging a smile onto her lips, “uh, congratulations.” 

“Yes, well, Vernon was ever so pleased when I told him. He said we would name him Dudley, after Vernon’s father. He really was a remarkable man-” 

“Sorry,” Lily interrupted, “how do you know it’s going to be a boy?” 

Petunia glared at her. “Of course he will be a boy. Vernon will need assistance with the business someday, he must have a son to carry on the family legacy.” 

Lily nodded, not bothering to mention that desire for a boy did not make one ounce of difference in a baby’s sex. “And if it is a girl?” 

“For God’s sake, Lily,” Petunia whined, “can you not just be happy for me, for once?” 

Lily shrugged. “I am happy for you. I just mean that I’m sure you will love your child no matter it’s sex, that’s all.” 

The air between them grew chilly. Petunia stared down at the hand that caressed her bump angrily. “I should have known you would ruin this.” 

“How have I ruined anything?” Lily fought the urge to laugh in frustration, “I have said congratulations, said I’m happy for you, and said I am sure you will be a good mother. What else is there?” 

“Do not think I’ve noticed that you are not pregnant yet,” Petunia sneered, “having difficulty holding Severus’ attention, are we?” 

Lily did not answer this. When she had first married Severus she certainly had not suffered from any lack of attention in that regard. But ever since she had cut his hand Severus had kept his distance. He left for long hours at a time, often spending the night at his father’s house and avoiding her bed at night. She certainly could not complain. She much preferred being alone to being in his company anyway. 

Petunia scoffed. “That is it, is it not? You’re jealous of my fortune.” 

Lily’s eyes snapped back to her sister’s. “Is that what you call it? I was not aware a child was an economic achievement.” 

Petunia laughed mirthlessly. “Of course it is, idiot girl. That is all there is in this world. You either serve your husband, or you do not. Do not take your frustrations out on me if you cannot obey Severus.” 

“Well,” Lily sighed, taking another sip of now-cold tea, “I certainly will not weep because I cannot be servant, mother, and wet nurse to my husband all at once.” 

Petunia stood suddenly, her face contorted into a snarl. “I am leaving. You were a wicked child and now you are a wicked woman. I hope you rot here.” 

“I probably will, thanks to you and father,” Lily spat. She was tired of hearing all her life what a miserable disappointment she was to her sister. “Leave, and when your daughter is born you do not dare to name her after our mother.” 

Petunia threw her one last hateful glance before turning on her heel to march out the door. Lily heard the sound of the horseman jumping down from his perch once more to help his mistress into the carriage, and then they were off once more. 

Lily sat for a long while gazing into the dying flames. She hated her sister, but she also pitied her. She had not benefited from their mother’s training as Lily had. Perhaps if she had been magic too she could have learned to want more from life than to be Vernon’s lapdog for the rest of her days. But then Lily remembered how happy, truly happy, Petunia had looked on her wedding day. She began to regret the fight with her sister. Who was she to question Petunia’s decisions? 

A movement through the window caught Lily’s attention. The old woman with the basket of holly branches was back, only this time her basket was empty and she walked in the direction of the woods. Lily sprang to her feet and ran to the door, pausing only to grab her cloak and force her feet into the boots she had carelessly discarded earlier that day. 

She wrenched open the heavy door and ran into the front yard. “Wait! Stop!” she called after the woman. 

The figure stilled and turned slowly to face her. She had long, black hair with streaks of silver that fell into ringlets around her face. Her eyes were so grey they were nearly white. Lily startled. Her mother’s eyes had been almost exactly that shade.

Lily ran forward to face the woman. “May I ask your name?” 

The woman smiled. “You may, although considering you have not given me yours, I may not answer.”

“Oh,” Lily fumbled, feeling her cheeks flush, “I’m Lily. This is my house,” she gestured carelessly behind her. 

The woman looked up at the great stone building. “Is it? It’s a fine house. You must be very happy there.” 

Lily did her best not to laugh at this. “But please, tell me, who are you?” 

Crinkles appeared at the corners of the woman’s grey eyes. “My name is Euphemia, lady. I do not live far from here.” 

“Oh, please, I’m no lady,” Lily crossed her arms across her stomach, suddenly self-conscious. 

“It does not appear that way,” Euphemia gestured to Lily’s cloak and dress, “your clothes are fine, your hands soft. You look fed and watered, and I believe I just interrupted your afternoon tea. Does that not make you a lady?” 

Lily felt annoyance flicker in her. “I’m sorry,” she frowned, “have I offended you in some way?” 

Euphemia laughed. “No, dear, you haven’t. Forgive me, I’m not used to speaking with residents of this town, and I’m afraid I spoke out of turn. Would you like to walk with me for a while?” 

Lily hesitated, glancing back at the house. It would be dark soon, and Severus might choose tonight of all nights to return home after a day in his father’s house. But then again, he had not been home for three days, why should he pick tonight to call upon her again? 

“Alright,” she said carefully, then fell into step beside the woman. They walked in silence for a few minutes. Lily felt uncomfortable as if she should fill the silence with small talk. 

Euphemia, however, walked happily beside her, gazing around at the newly-budding trees with great interest. “You are new to this house.” It was not a question. 

Lily nodded. “I married Severus last winter, and now I live here.” She tried not to let the bitterness show in her voice. 

Euphemia smiled. “You eat and lay to rest there, perhaps. But I can feel you come more and more alive with each step you take away from that place. How have you found the woods so far?” 

She stared stupidly at Euphemia for a moment. This woman became stranger by the minute. “How do you know that I’ve even been in the woods at all?” 

“It’s in the way you move,” she said simply, “you walk as if you are anticipating your next step. You walk like someone who has tread forests with no paths many times before.” 

Lily did not know what to say to that. “I like them well,” she said finally, “I feel it is the only place I can feel like myself once more.” 

They were at least two hundred paces from her house now. Lily turned back and found she could barely see the building’s outline over the crest of a hill. She would have to be careful to make it back before sundown. 

She could feel Euphemia’s eyes on the back of her head as she looked. “When is the last time you felt like yourself? In your old house?” 

Lily nodded. “When my mother was alive. She died when I was a child. But she used to take me to the woods and teach me about forest magic.” 

She stopped suddenly in her tracks. Euphemia’s warmth had fooled her into speaking too freely.

Euphemia halted too and looked at her intently. “It’s alright. I’m not shocked by anything you’ve told me.” 

Lily avoided her gaze. “That is not what I meant. I just meant, you know, she taught me about the forest’s magical beauty.” 

“Yes, that is what you meant I’m sure.” Euphemia chuckled. “You know, child, that they call me witch?” 

Lily nodded, still not looking at the older woman. “I did,” she said apologetically, “my serving girl told me. She’s terrified of you.” 

Euphemia laughed loudly which showed her straight, white teeth. Lily found that, but for the streaks of silver in her hair, she could not determine exactly how old Euphemia was. She seemed wise and experienced, but her skin was soft and smooth. It did not sag as the skin on her grandmother’s face had, but instead glowed as if she were blessed with unnatural youth. 

“I don’t blame her. Many of the villagers are afraid of me. They fear what they do not understand.” 

“And what do they not understand?” Lily said eagerly. She found that she wanted to know all about this woman, where she came from, and what she did in the forest. 

Euphemia sighed. “They have never seen a woman live so well on her own. A woman who provides for herself and does not seek out the company of men. They assume I am a wicked witch, and I’m content in letting them think so. Now,” she glanced at the sun that hovered just above the horizon, “it looks like you should be getting back. I don’t want you to walk alone in the dark, do you understand me?” 

Lily flinched at her suddenly harsh tone. “Yes, I understand,” she stammered. She felt the urgency in Euphemia’s voice. 

Euphemia nodded. “Good. Well, I must go, but thank you for walking with me, Lily Evans.” She turned on her heel and vanished into the forest. 

“Bye,” Lily whispered dazedly at the woman’s back. It suddenly occurred to her that she had never told Euphemia her married name, let alone her maiden name.

--

The next morning Lily passed Remus in the fields. She was on her way to the forest to explore a new section of the stream that had recently become unfrozen. The fields had thawed by then. For the past few days, Remus had worked tirelessly at the old plow Severus had inherited from his grandfather. As if those delicate hands would ever touch a plow, Lily thought savagely. 

Remus looked dreadful. His eyes were rimmed with red as if he had not slept. He had a fresh cut on his cheek to accompany his already-prominent scar. 

“Are you alright?” Lily called out to him.

Remus startled and dropped the plow. “F-fine, m’lady.” 

She smiled at him playfully. “One day you will call me Lily, I swear it.” 

He grinned, then winced, as if the effort of moving the muscles in his face irritated his fresh wound. 

“Oh, come here,” Lily beckoned. Remus looked uncertain but shuffled across the field to stand before her. She touched a finger gingerly to his skin. She knew she could not heal him, he already knew too much about her abilities after that day with Snape, but she could gather herbs that would help him. 

“I will bring you back some Lady’s Mantle for that cut,” she declared. 

Remus’ face grew warm. “Please, do not go through that trouble for me.” 

“Nonsense,” she smiled, “it is the least I can do. I have a feeling that my husband does not compensate you well for your work here.” 

Remus said nothing but smiled at her more broadly than he ever had before. Suddenly, his gaze fell upon something over Lily’s shoulder. She frowned, turning to see what he was looking at. 

Sirius strode across the field toward them. Today he wore a shirt and trousers made of black fur instead of his long shaggy coat from a few weeks ago. He paused a short distance away from Lily and Remus and bowed dramatically before her. 

“Gentle lady,” he oozed, holding his arms aloft while he lowered his nose so close to the ground he could kiss it, “please pardon my interruption and let me approach your most noble person.” 

Lily laughed. She could not help it. There was something about Sirius that she had noticed right away. He never seemed to take anything, especially himself, too seriously. 

“Arise, gentleman,” she said in a mock-pompous voice. He bounced back to his feet grinning. “What can we do for you today?” 

Sirius was not looking at her. His eyes passed her and fell on Remus. “Hello again,” he almost whispered. 

Remus flushed even deeper scarlet than before and murmured “hullo” under his breath. 

Lily cleared her throat. “Again, Sirius, how can we help you?”

“Right,” Sirius said distractedly, wrenching his gaze from Remus, “I came here to tell you both something. My comrade and I, James, I think you’ll remember him, m’lady,” Lily tried to keep her face inscrutable at these words, “frequent a tavern in town. It’s called The Hog’s Head. It’s quiet, cozy, just the way we like things.” His eyes burned with mischief when he said this as if they were missing out on some inside joke. “Anyway, I’m here to cordially invite you both there on Thursday next. That is if you can get away, of course.” 

Lily felt her pulse quicken. The offer to see the boy with the familiar brown eyes again was enticing. Plus she yeared for a day away from her house and her miserable husband. 

She arranged her face into a neutral expression. “Thank you for your invitation. I will consider your offer. Remus, of course, you may go where you please.” 

She looked expectantly at Remus, who nodded vigorously. “Yes,” he breathed, his ears still pink, “I will come.” 

“Splendid!” Sirius barked, grinning wildly. “Well, must be off, or Prongs will wonder where I’ve gone. Goodbye, Remus!” He winked, and then he was off into the woods. 

Lily smirked sideways at Remus. “What was that about?”

Remus stared at Sirius’ retreating back. “I don’t know what you mean,” he insisted, but his voice was a bit too breathless for her to believe him. 

“Mmm,” she hummed, “well, I’m going if I can get away with it.” 

Her words forced Remus back to the present. “How? He’ll never let you go.” 

She rolled her eyes at him. “Severus need never know. We will say nothing, and if we must come up with some story, we will say that you are accompanying me into town for some errands. He trusts you, remember?”

Remus scoffed. “He trusts me not to cuck him, that’s for sure.” He looked suddenly horrified at his words. “Forgive me, please, I spoke without-” 

“No, you are right,” Lily said seriously, “and I plan to take full advantage of his notion. If he thinks that I cannot take care of myself without the assistance of a man, then I will appoint you my protector. Alright?”

Remus looked uneasy but nodded. “Alright.” 

“Good. Now, I’m off for the Lady’s Mantle. Do not touch that cut until I return.” 

“Yes, m’lady,” and then he surprised her by dipping into a low bow just as Sirius had done.

She giggled. “That’s much more like it.”

[lotornomiko]

The Dark Flavor Of Addiction Chapter Twelve

3B cannon divergence with a heavy focus on a secret sexual relationship between Hook and Belle. Both devoted and swearing to love others, Hook and Belle both can’t deny the irresistible passion and attraction they have for one another, leading to repeated secret trysts, hurt feelings, and a whole lot of jealousy. But what happens when feelings unravel completely,& secrets come out?

Captain Beauty Endgame…so not safe for work….

Its the key difference between us, the Dark One and I both very bad men. Capable as I am of doing a great many evils, I stop short of killing, of hurting a woman who has come to mean so much to me, and of hurting her in THAT way. It doesn't mean that I can be any less jealous, that I don't fan that feral aggression inside me, wanting to both own and to protect her, Belle that vital something I've gone too long without understanding, unable to appreciate, unable to even acknowledge. It's a great many late blooming realizations that I've had this day, that I still continue to have, one epiphany after another hitting me, scaring me with what I may have lost.

It is that, both the fears and the epiphanies, that weigh my heart down. That have me staring, my eyes not only drinking in Belle's surface beauty, but seeing past it, to the woman, to the brave, passionate soul inside. She's so fierce and determined, quietly enduring the weight of the world, of Storybrooke, of everyone's expectations. It leaves her staggered but not crushed, Belle a survivor of a hurt that is a million times worse. That hurt, the strain of it wreaks havoc on her slender frame, leaves her skin leeched of most of it's color. Belle is exhausted, tired of so much, maybe even tired of ME. I can't say I blame her, not after all I have done, all I have put her through. All I STILL put her through, Belle both frightened and wary as she looks back at me. It's like a slap to the face, her mistrust and her fear, Belle a bundle of raw hurt that I've no clue yet on how to soothe.

But I want to TRY. I want to do more than just try, I want to set things right, am ready to dedicate an eternity to the attempt. I want to make it up to her, want to show as well as tell Belle what a fool I have been. I want that second and third and even fourth chance, want to make a go of it now that I am free of the madness that had once poisoned me. I want US, want more than the idea of it but the reality, no more stolen moments but instead everything out in the open. I want to be able to shout to the world, take pride in the fact that everyone knows, Belle mine and I hers.

But more than that I want Belle SAFE. I want to take her from this place, from this town if need be. I want to put as much distance between us and it's problems, it's Savior and it's heroes, the trouble that they drag us all into. I want Belle out of danger, and I want the threat of Rumplestiltskin gone.

The irony isn't lost on me. I want her safe, but it's a danger she MUST risk. The bait to our trap, the distraction that will buy us all the time needed to locate the dagger, Belle HAS to go in alone to face Rumplestiltskin. The very idea of it I rebel against, a cold fear surging through me, the worry lodging itself in my throat. I look at Belle and I can't help but wonder if this will be the last time I get to see her, if instead it will be Mila all over again.

It makes me hesitate when every second wasted is precious. But I feel as though I can't leave, can't go without telling her. My feelings, my deepest regrets, it all wants to come out, the words bubbling in me, giving rise to my tongue. I need to apologize as much as I need to reassure her, Belle mattering more than Emma had ever.

"Belle, I..."

I don't get to finish. Hell I barely get to start. The queen is snapping irritably at me, her loud snarling disapproval swallowing up and drowning out my words. She's not the audience I want for such a conversation, and Regina's not the type to tolerate any delays and distractions. We're all just tools to her, Belle, myself, the savior, and the others. More villain than not, Regina is only out for herself and for her son Henry, and THAT more than her words, is what I take to heart.

I can't stop the smirk, can't stop the darkness from creeping into my determined gaze. The queen and I are not so different in intent, both of us having someone we want to protect. It's a driving desire, the need to safeguard that which is most precious, that can and will lead us to do our worst. I won't hesitate any more than Regina or Rumplestiltskin would, I can't, Belle's safety, her life, and our future at stake. I'm more certain than ever that it's all dependant on my actions, on what I must ultimately do. The dagger needs to be found, and to be found by ME. Only myself, and to a lesser extent the queen, have the stomach and fortitude to do that which is ultimately needed. Only the two of us will see the necessity of it, the others stalling, actually burdened by the memory of that monster's last sacrifice. It will be the excuse that they give themselves, lying that he's changed, that he deserves another chance. They'll keep on thinking that right up to the point that Belle is laying crumpled at his feet, that noble heart of hers crushed to a fine powder by his unforgiving fist.

I won't let that happen, won't let him crush the heart of another good woman. I'll do what I have to, hurt who I need to, and maybe one day SHE can forgive me. I don't look to Belle in that moment, don't let the thought of her anger, of her future hurt and confusion, stop me from what I'm planning. Nothing can, not even the idea of her hate, not when I do this for Belle's benefit as much as, if not more than for my own.

I then give the queen a mocking bow in return, speak words that are laced with a cheeky kind of insolence. The queen frowns at me, Regina hardly amused by my lack of respect but before she can say anything more or even threaten me, I take off running. The others have a bit of a head start on me, but I know until the house is secured, until it has actually been confirmed that the witch is not there, no real searching can begin.

Emma and the others have already entered inside the house, by the time I reach it's front door. Someone has made quick work of it's two locks, and a part of me can't help wonder if it was Robin's expertise at work here, or if Neal has learned a few new tricks since leaving Neverland. But the answer to that doesn't really matter, not in the grand scheme of things. I've a woman to save, a future to secure, and I'll accomplish none of it if I don't get a move on.

Determined as I am, it's still a cautious step I take forward, waiting to see if the witch's magic will strike me down. Nothing happens, and I grow braver, creeping forward and listening for sounds. I hear the faintest sound of footsteps, a noise that might just be coming from above me. A door on the first floor creaks open, and I realize the three that have gone on ahead of me have split up. On one hand I admire their nerve, and the quick efficiency they show at checking the house. But the other finds them fool hardy, a united front so much better for minimizing risks when it comes to bearding a witch of any kind in her own lair.

It's a cozier lair than I had expected, a downright homey feel to my surroundings. Furnished in the style of this modern world, there's nothing to outwardly betray the witch or her magic. There's not even a tingle of it in the air, not so much as a surreal flicker of a spell. Is it because Zelena still tries to hide her true nature, or is it because the Dark One in her possession is all the failsafe she needs, to protect her wicked ambitions? I fear it's the latter, fear what will happen should the dark one awaken. I'm not scared for myself or for the others, but for Belle, for what may happen to her if her presence alone is not enough of a distraction.

That fear urges me to hurry and would render me to be careless. It takes a concentrated effort to subdue the worst of that fear's impulse, my skin prickling with unease, the back of me burning with the possibly paranoid sense that someone is watching. But when I turn there is no one, not the witch or the savior, or the two thieves. There is however a small statue, some kind of demonic looking cat whose emerald eyes glint with real menace. There's something about those two emeralds, something familiar though I cannot place what. They don't distract from the most important part of the statue, the fact that it's small body is just long enough to possibly house the dagger.

The statue is the first thing I destroy at Emma's shout. I watch it smash against the thinly carpeted floor, watch the black dust that stirs up from it's ebony remains, but there's nothing there aside from the emeralds. I feel a real disappointment to have been foiled, and yet it's not entirely what I haven't expected. It would take a luckier man than me to find the dagger on the first try, and I hold in my sigh.

The all clear given at Emma's shout, the house is now alive with sound. Neither Neal nor Robin Hood being at all quiet with what they are doing. More things smash to the ground, and I too add to the mess we are making of Zelena's home. My sharp hook tears into every cushion, feathers and stuffing tossed everywhere. I am tearing apart her pillows, her couch, breaking every lamp, every kick knack that is big enough to hide the dagger inside. From the kitchen I hear Robin, the man rattling pots and pans, breaking apart jars, and over turning drawers. There's even the crash of metal that is the kitchen's cutlery, Robin searching through the mundane every day knives and forks and coming up empty for all his efforts.

I hear something hit the floor, the ceiling above me muting the worst of the sound. Then the noise repeats itself, and my curiosity drives me upstairs to discover Neal in what passes for the witch's library. Some of the many books are already on the floor, and the man doesn't have to explain for me to guess at what he's doing. Neal's checking each and every individual book, looking for one that might be a hollowed out facsimile that could possibly hide the dagger. That he hasn't found it yet is a source of frustration, Neal angry and frantic, muttering a great many things--half of which are curses, under his breath.

An open door just across from the library, brings me into the witch's bedroom. Zelena's taste is a little more indulgent here, silk green bed sheets, and expensive black lace curtains, beaded emerald colored tassels, and a large, ornate mirror with a ebony polished frame. There's a jewelry box on a dresser, and it's already open, opals and emeralds gleaming next to an array of bottles and powders. I am cautious as I approach what looks like her makeup supply, not trusting that the powders aren't magic, that the perfumes aren't potions, and that the clear color lotions not some kind of poison.

Careful not to disturb even one bottle, I began pulling out and overturning each of the dresser's drawers. Even her underwear looks expensive, the dark green and black fabrics now a wrinkled pile on the floor. There's not much more than shoes and clothing in her closet, and I take a twisted satisfaction in ripping apart several of her dresses. Something thumps to the floor, a key discovered hidden amongst a gown's corset. I carefully pick it up and pocket it, wondering if somewhere in this house, there is a door it fits into.

I hear a sound come from behind me, a groan and a thump. I rush out of the closet, only to find that Neal has finished with Zelena's library. I don't share with him my findings, don't offer to help him with his upheaval of the bed. The mattress ends up half of it's frame, and two flat, rectangular boxes are unearthed beneath it. Neal quickly pulls them free, take apart the white cardboard and finds a hat in one, and a pair of black silk, elbow length gloves in the other.

I make a show of tearing apart the bed and it's pillows, stuffing bleeding out as I carve open the center of the mattress. I don't expect to find more than the metal springs inside it, and in that the witch doesn't disappoint. Still I can see how disheartened that leaves Neal, the man beginning to feel how hopeless a quest this might be. I keep quiet about the key in my pocket, and make no attempt to lift up his spirits. It suits me just fine if Neal were to give up, and would actually leave me with just Robin downstairs to contend with. I can hear by all the crashing and thumping that the thief is still at it, still tearing about the house. By the sound of it, he'll soon be inside the walls, tearing apart the house's very foundation in an effort to find the dagger. I can do no less, the key in my pocket belonging to something, a door or a chest, and I just had to find it.

I don't get the chance. I'm passing by a window that's been smashed open, when I hear it. a woman's scream amidst all the noise that Robin is making. My blood chills at the sound of it, at the sheer panic, the terror that the woman gives voice to. I can't see what is going on, this part of the house positioned in such a way that gives off a great view of the green apple tree but leaves me blind to everything else. I can see neither the back yard, nor the front where the cellar doors lay, fueled by a panic that steals away all clear headed thought, the terror inside me giving voice to an answering scream.

"Belle!"

The scream that roars out of me rouses Neal from the floor. I'm already halfway down the stairs by the time the man is out on the second floor's landing. He doesn't ask me what is going on, maybe hadn't even heard Belle's scream over the noise that Robin had been making. But he's heard mine, and he's seen my reaction, and that alone is enough, Neal shouting to Robin as I race through the downstairs of the house.

I'm so scared for her that I am not thinking. So scared I've momentarily forgotten the search for the dagger. There's no thought in my head for the fact that I need it, that the dagger is the only thing that can be used to stop the Dark One dead in his tracks. It's all animal need, an instinct to protect the woman that I care for, that drives me forward. I don't hesitate, rushing headfirst into danger, intent on protecting, on saving Belle with nothing more than my fist and my hook to defend her.

She screams a second time, and it's louder now. I burst out the front door of the house just in time to see Belle scrambling up on her hands and knees, basically crawling up the last two steps of the cellar. She's so pale and frightened, actively crying, falling once before lurching upright to scramble to safety. There's nothing but darkness behind her, the shadows of the cellar swallowing up even the sunlight. Those coiling tendrils of inky blackness are not idle, snaking out of the cellar, snapping at Belle's heels. One actually tries to wrap around her ankle, and its only a fireball that severs it's intent.

Something other than Belle and the danger that she is in, registers. I hear the queen's voice, hear Regina snapping at Emma, telling her to put that pistol away, that's it's not bullets but magic that is going to save the day. The queen is only half right, for it's a certain kind of magic that is needed, and it's one we don't yet have. And maybe we'll never, Belle's attempt at a distraction failing, none of us a step closer to the dagger.

And then I am there, reaching for Belle. My fingers close around her wrist, and then I pull her past a defense that is actively bickering, Regina glaring at Emma rather than at that growing mass of darkness. She's got fireballs aglow in each hand, and expects the savior to do the same. Emma seems loathe to put away her gun, ignoring Regina's needling as she stares at the darkness.

"Hook, I don't suppose you've come with the dagger....?"

I don't answer, too focused on Belle. Too aware of her shaking, and the ice cold feel of her skin. She's openly crying, sobbing with her terror, ready to sink into my embrace, and it's all I can do to NOT hold her. But I'm aware of the creeping darkness, and of the monster that hides within it, Rumplestiltskin a big enough threat without me giving him further provocation. It is with the greatest of reluctance that I push Belle behind me, shielding her with my body as I brace myself for what comes next.

"Hook!?" Emma again, and that exasperated sound can't hide the savior's own fright. There's very few people that can face off against the dark one, and even less that can do so without fear. I think even the queen is worried, though she'd never admit to it. She flings another fireball at the darkness, while muttering something about being surrounded by incompetents.

"What happened down there?!"

"It was a trick!" Belle cries out, her fingers having found purchase on my arm. I feel her trembling form press against my back, feel her clinging to me for a comfort that I cannot yet give. "Zelena..." Her voice broke on a sob. "Zelena was toying with us from the start!"

"Still think it's not a good idea to have her kiss Gold free of his curse?!" I growl in response to what Regina sarcastically asks Emma, and hear the soft gasp that Belle lets out behind me. I can't tell what that gasp means, can't tell if she's frigthened of the idea, or if Belle has already tried to do exactly that and failed.

I don't get to ask. The cellar itself seems to explode, one of the doors shooting up into the sky. The darkness remains, and in the heart of it comes the sound of slow, menacing footsteps. Each step against the concrete stairs is like a hammer falling, and it feels like an eternity passes, before the Dark One emerges from the cellar. He takes his time, or so I assume, my hate such that I at first don't notice the odd, wooden way that he moves. Like he's fighting every step of the way, his odd broken movements very much like a reluctant puppet on a sting.

He steps onto the grass, his arm lifting up to do something, An arrow slams into the turf, Robin having arrived to fire off a warning. Rumplestiltskin steps down onto the arrow, let's it snap and crumble apart under his foot. He looks at us, and his eyes have gone all black like the shadows that trail out of the cellar.

"Zelena sends her regards." He says, and with a wave of his arm, Emma and Regina go flying back. I hear Neal scream out the savior's name, and watch as Robin waste arrow after arrow as he inches his way towards the fallen queen. I want to scream at Rumplestiltskin, to ask him just what it is that that witch wants, but more than that I just want him gone. All the hatred that he inspires is alight in my expression, my lip curling as I growl. For once that hate isn't mirrored in the Dark One's expression, Rumplestiltskin more resigned than anything, as he points a finger at Belle and I. "Interfere again, in ANY way..." He says. "And I WILL kill you."

"Rumple!" Belle protests with a moan.

His eyes try to see past my body to the woman that hides behind it. And then the broken movement happens again, Rumplestiltskin taking time to point at each and every one of us. "I'll kill ALL of you."

"Papa, no!" Neal cries out, his voice in his anguish making him sound more like the boy he had once been rather than the man he was now.

"Damn it Gold, you've proven better than this!" Emma shouts from where she crouches on the grass. I hear Regina's answering groan, but the queen doesn't actually say anything in response to what Emma had just said.

"Much as I hate to suggest it..." It's Robin who speaks now, and a glance his ways shows him down on one knee, hovering protectively over Regina. I don't know how badly she has been hurt, or if just that Regina's a little disoriented, but either way it's clear she won't be wielding her magic any time soon. "Perhaps a retreat is in order?"

It's not the most liked of options, but right now it's the only one left to us. We're at an impasse otherwise, destined to die at Rumplestiltskin's hand whether we fight or whether we try to search for the dagger. The Dark One himself stands at the ready, the shadows itself an extension of his body. He watches us but makes no further move, making it clear that whatever Zelena is up to, she wants us all alive to witness it. She's toying with us like Belle had said, giving us a glimmer of hope that she revels in destroying. I don't know what Zelena's reasons are, and right now I don't care. In fact I think none of us do, too intent on running, on living to fight another day.