#i love so much & have sunk frankly ridiculous amounts of time and money into and now playing feels like

[intertexts]

finallyyyyy ordered new harp strings everybody clap n cheer...!!!!!!

[ghostdrew22]

Burning From The Inside Out || Draco Malfoy

Requested: No Pairing: Draco Malfoy x fem!reader Warnings: slight angst, slight smut, swearing, mentions of abuse and self-harm Summary: Draco and Y/N evolve from fake dating to friends with benefits to… nothing? Commitment issues, and a general distaste for love, stand in the way of the two of them becoming more.

WORDS : 4710

Lyric snippets I used are from “Love Song” by YUNGBLUD and they’re not in chronological order.

<~>

“All I learned growing up was that love chewed me up Spit me out on the pavement next to the cuts And the blood that my mum and dad would Always take out on each other.”

Draco had always thought that love was fake- a neurological con job meant to bring your guard down and distract you from the more important things in life such as money, sex and success. It made sense why he felt that way- having grown up watching his parents claw at each other until blood was caught between their nails and the venom from their harsh words was lacing the atmosphere so thickly, it felt like a fog- he was bound to think that love didn’t exist.

So when his friends began ask why he wasn’t dating one of the many people that were basically falling at his feet, he froze up. How could he have possibly explained that he thought love was a ridiculous waste of time because he’d watched his parents approach to it and it scarred him so much that he wanted to leave the whole thing alone? He couldn’t. So he did the next best thing, he asked you to fake-date him.

It was a ludicrous idea, you both knew that, but you were his best friend for years and you loved him an immeasurable amount so you figured that there was no harm in helping him out. Besides, you had a lot of people hot on your trail too and you just weren’t interested in romantically committing to anyone- more attracted to the concept of sex with no strings than to the idea of being in a long-term romantic relationship with someone.

But in all honestly, you still don’t know why you’d agreed to do it, it was stupid and a very obvious recipe for disaster. I mean in the moment it had felt like a good enough idea to get Harry Potter off of your back and Pansy Parkinson off of his, but even at the time you knew that you were playing with fire and one of you was bound to get burned.

And the thought surfaced again when you two crossed territory from friends to friends with benefits. It had started with an innocent kiss on his cheek now and then- to convince everyone that you two were actually dating- but as the weeks went by and people began to get suspicious about your lack of PDA (considering Draco’s possessive nature and your touchy nature) it became apparent that the two of you had to up your game. And one afternoon when you were kissing him on the way to class, a switch seemed to flip and soon enough you were pressed up against the broom closet wall as he sunk himself deep inside your walls- trying then and there to drown every inch of you with his touch, to leave every part of you scorching with the feel of him.

It definitely wasn’t love, that much you knew. It was more just an insatiable hunger to destroy one another - to be the best that either of you had ever had so that you would both be ruined for whoever dared to come next. Maybe that should’ve been the first red flag, the first time you noticed just how toxic your little routine was, but it didn’t matter then and frankly, it doesn’t matter much to you now. Because with him logic is quickly thrown out the window and all you can seem to think about is sinking your teeth into him, making him yours, branding him so that the entire school knows not to touch what you’ve claimed as your own- even if there’s no romantic feelings involved, there’s still a harsh possession that nests itself within your relationship. A dark desire to own and be owned in the most filthy of ways, to be looked at like a meal and devoured like a feast by one and one only.

~~~

“Wanna get rid of my period for 9 months?” You groan from your place on the bed and Draco gapes at you.

“Y/N you are so foul!” He exclaims with a chuckle and you barely manage a laugh in your pained state. “Most girls would offer to take me out to dinner first, maybe undress me slowly-“

“When have I ever undressed you slowly?” You ask with a knowing eyebrow raise and Draco smirks back at you.

“Fair point.” He replies and you groan in pain again, “It’s okay, I’m coming don’t worry.” He drops his schoolbag on your bedroom floor and peels his shoes off of his feet before pulling out a brown paper bag from his schoolbag and crawling into bed beside you.

“I got you meds from Madame Pomfrey, drink this now.” He hands you a potion, “It should kick in within the hour.”

“That’s too long.” You whine and he deadpans you- making you shift under his gaze and drink the potion. “It tastes like utter shit.”

“You drink it every month, why aren’t you used to it?” He asks with a laugh and you shrug.

“I think I force myself to forget.”

“Weirdo.” He mumbles before digging back into the paper bag, “I brought you chocolate and Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans to keep you munching.” He pulls out the snacks and hands them to you, “Heat compress to alleviate the pain till the potion kicks in.” He puts the heat compress on your lower abdomen, “And I brought ’Sense & Sensibility’ from the library to keep you distracted.”

“Why ’Sense & Sensibility’?”

“Because I know that you’ve currently got your obsession with muggle authors and I remember you telling me that you loved this woman’s other book so I just grabbed it quickly.” He shrugs and you smile, already starting to feel a little better.

“Thank you.”

“You don’t have to keep thanking me, we do this every month Y/N.” He chuckles.

He’s right, it is your routine. For as long as you can remember being friends with Draco, you can remember him looking after you whenever you have a really bad period- bringing you snacks, massaging you, singing to you, running you baths, anything that could possibly make you feel better. It’s consistent, one of the only things you both have to rely on, but you still can’t help the feeling of immense gratitude that washes over you every time. He always goes above and beyond for you, and you can’t help but feel grateful for him.

“Now,” He says as he drags your attention back to reality, “do you want me to read to you or do want cuddles?” He raises his eyebrows at you and you already know the answer.

“Cuddles.” He laughs at how quickly you respond and puts the book on the table beside your bed before hooking his arms around your waist and helping you both sink into the covers- your head nuzzled into chest as he lays flat on his back and rubs soothing circles into your own.

“Better?” He asks after a few minutes of him massaging your back and you nod eagerly- bringing your fingers up to trace lines across his collarbone in an effort to keep yourself occupied. He shivers at the feeling of your fingertips against his skin and you smile. “Keep doing that and I will have to take you up on that offer of taking away your period for nine months.”

~~~

“Nobody taught me how to love myself.”

“Standing there, you look at me Understanding everything”

The sudden eruption of voices in the hallway has you rapidly turning your neck toward the sound, just in time to catch a glimpse of Draco storming away from the rest of his exhausted quidditch teammates and into another hallway that leads to the dungeons. From what you’d seen he had looked furious and the rest of the team looks very solemn, so you say goodbye to Tracey Davis and quickly shuffle toward the team so that you can ask Blaise what happened.

Blaise catches your eye right before you reach him and opens his arms to hug you- draping one arm around your shoulders and pulling you into him so he can kiss your forehead. “Bad practice, he couldn’t do anything right today.” He says- already knowing what question was on your mind.

“Do you know what’s up with him?” You look up at him with furrowed eyebrows and his shakes his head with a shrug.

“No clue. He was perfectly fine this morning, then by the time practice came he was fuming.”

“He’s angry?”

“He was angry. Now he’s just… sad?” Blaise sighs, “I really don’t know what’s going on, please check on him?”

You nod with a small smile and make to leave, “I’ll go see him right now.”

By the time you reach the common room Draco’s already in his room- something you figured out from the sound of his door slamming harshly- and you trek up to it nervously.

“Draco?” You ask softly as you open the door and find him hunched over his desk- still fully draped in quidditch gear.

He snaps his head up quickly and meets your eyes with a cold stare. “What?”

“Okay, rude.” You mumble as you step into the room and lean against the door.  “Are you okay?”

He scoffs and rolls his eyes as he turns to face you from across the room, “Yeah, I’m bloody great.” He shrugs, “I’m the world’s worst seeker and my mother’s in the hospital, it’s truly a wonderful life.” He drawls sarcastically.

You push yourself off of the door at the mention of his mother and quickly stride toward him, “What do you mean your mother’s in the hospital?” You raise your eyebrows- concern erupting from your throat.

He doesn’t say anything but slowly turns behind him and picks up a letter from the desk to hand to you. He sighs and leans against the desk as you take it from him and begin to read the letter from his father.

a mild heart attack as she fell down the stairs.

Your eyes glaze over with anger as you scrunch the letter up and toss it to the ground. You’re no stranger to the abuse that goes on in the Malfoy household- having heard it yourself one night when you’d spend a weekend at their home- and you know that what Lucius really means is that he hit her so hard that she had to be hospitalised. You open your mouth to speak but Draco shakes his head and cuts you off.

“No. No Speaking.” You nod as he sighs and rubs his hands across his face in frustration. You take no offense at his words because, to be honest, nothing you could’ve said would make it better anyway. This has happened so often, too often really, that the two of you have evolved passed the need to converse about it.

“Fuck!” He exclaims suddenly and you flinch at the outburst- making him soften instantly as he turns to face you. “I’m sorry, I… I didn’t mean to startle you.”

You nod in forgiveness and he reaches his arms out for you, and you do as he asks and sink into his arms- running your hands through his hair as he leans on the desk and you stand.

“I hate him.”

“I know.” You pull away from him and cup his face so he looks into your eyes. “Go take a shower, you stink.”

He laughs sadly and nods as he stands and starts walking to the bathroom. He stops midway and turns back to you, “Will you still be here when I get back?”

“Where else would I go?” You raise your eyebrows at him with a smile and he smiles back before slipping into his prefect bathroom to shower.

While he’s showering you decide to get changed into something more comfortable- putting on one of his shirts over your underwear- and put out his favourite pyjama pants on the bed for him to wear once he’s gotten out of the shower. Then you climb into his bed and start reading the copy of ‘Sense & Sensibility’ that he got after reading with you and realising Jane Austen is actually pretty good, while you wait for him to get done.

“Nobody taught me how to love myself So how can I love somebody else?”

You’re so entranced by the book that you don’t even notice him come back into the room until he’s speaking to you from the foot of the bed. “Did you take these out for me?”

“Mhmm.” You respond without taking your eyes off the page in front of you.

“Thank you.”

“You’re welco-“ You gasp as your eyes come off the page and meet his figure. He’s still dripping from the shower, a towel tied around his torso, and he’s got bruises all around his abdomen. “Draco!”

You get up and climb round the bed to get him, and he barely has any time to slide his bottoms on before he starts shuffling away from you.

“It’s nothing, I promi-“ He winces as soon as one of your hands makes contact with a bruise near his ribs.

“Draco.” You pull your hand back angrily and speak with a warning tone.

“Y/N it’s-“

“You promised me this would stop.” You state firmly and he gulps in fear. “We’ve been friends what, 6 years now? And in the six years that we’ve known each other I’ve done a countless amount of shit for you, no fucking questions asked. I ask, no, I beg you to do one thing and you can’t even do that?”

“It just happened.” He sighs tiredly and you scoff with a laugh.

“No, it didn’t just happen. You let it happen. Or am I wrong?”

“I-“

“You know what? I don’t even want to hear it.” You walk back to the bed with a shake of your head.

You’ve asked him a million times not to go sparring with Blaise, Crabbe and Goyle before Quidditch practice because he always comes back black and blue- smothered in painful bruises on his entire abdomen. He only does it because he thinks that he deserves the pain, that in some weird way he’s getting what’s due to him for existing. It’s his own way of self-harming and it’s led him to Madame Pomfrey more times than you can possibly remember.

He promised you months ago that he’d stop for good, that he’d start taking better care of himself and stop looking for excuses to get hurt when he felt bad about himself.  But bad habits, it seems, tend to die hard when you’re self-loathing masochist who can’t trust his best friend enough to talk to her when he starts to feel like shit.

“I’m sorry, I just needed something to take my mind off of it.” He trails behind you and picks up his wand to cast a silencing charm- anticipating the screaming match that you’re both about to have.

“Why didn’t you just talk to me? I’m your fucking best friend, what the hell else am I here for?”

“I know, I’m sorry I just…”

“You just?”

“I’m always coming to you with my problems, burdening you with my thoughts and it’s just not fair.”

“What?” You snap at him in confusion.

“I come crying to when my parents are doing their usual shit, I come to you when I have a bad Quidditch game, I come to you when I get a bad grade- fuck- I even come to you when I’m too scared to get into a relationship-“

“I chose to help you with that, don’t fucking act like you forced me into this because it was mutually beneficial.”

“That’s not the bloody point Y/N!” He yells in exasperation.

“Then what is the fucking point Draco?” You yell back.

He sighs, clenches his fists and closes his eyes. “The point is, I’m more bad than good for you, I’m a burden.”

You gasp at his words and sit on the edge of the bed as you look up at him in astonishment. That’s what he said to you the first time that you talked about his home life, ‘I think that they fight because of me, I ruined their lives. I’m a burden.’

“You’re not a burden.”

“You say that now. Until the day when you want more comes and I can’t give it to you.” He sits on the edge of the bed beside you, “One day this won’t be enough- you’ll want someone who can love you the way that you want to be loved- and I won’t be strong enough to do that. And then I’ll lose the only good thing I have in my life.”

“I’ll never leave you- I don’t think I could even if I tried.” You laugh awkwardly and pull him into your chest for a hug. “I don’t want more Draco, I don’t think I ever will. It sounds hard to believe but being best friends who occasionally have mind-boggling sex is quite enough for me, it makes me happy.”

“Promise me that you’ll tell me if you want more.” He mumbles into your chest.

“I promise bug.” You whisper as you rub his back soothingly- letting him relax into your embrace.

After a few seconds of silence he speaks again, “They’re going to kill each other.” He whispers- so quiet that you think maybe you imagined it-   before a soft sob escapes his lips.

“Shh, it’s okay.” You whisper back and continue soothing him by running your fingers along his bare back- stopping every few seconds to massage his ribs a bit- in an effort to help him calm down.

You don’t tell him that they won’t, because in all honesty you don’t know if they won’t, but you hold him tight for as long as he needs and promise him that you’ll be there for him. And that’s enough for the both of you- knowing that you’ll always be there for each other.

You sit like that for a while as he calms down and his breathing evens out- his head in your chest as one of your hands holds his and the other digs into his skin softly. It’s when he stops rubbing his thumb along the back of your hand, and instead starts rubbing it up and down your thigh, that you realise he’s finally breathing normally again. “Y/N?”

“Hm?” You hum in response as he pulls his head out of your chest and brings his lips up to your neck.

“Can we have some of that mind-boggling sex you talked about?” He asks against your collarbone and you laugh at his sudden change in attitude.

“I take it someone’s feeling better?” You ask as you let him take control of the situation and push you onto your back against the mattress.

“No.” He says, voice muffled as his lips graze against the skin on your neck, as his hands travel along your sides delicately. “But I need to feel you.”

“Dra-“ You start to protest- wanting to tell him that he can’t fuck his sadness away- but he cuts you off with a chaste kiss to your lips as his hands find their way beneath the t-shirt that you’re wearing and come up to unhook your bra.

“Please?” He asks desperately when he finally pulls away from your lips, his voice raw and raspy, “Let me take care of you princess.”

You’re still hesitant to agree, worried that he’s using this as a coping mechanism and scared that it’ll worsen the pain he’s feeling in his abdomen, but his lips find that soft spot behind your ear and you melt into his grasp like ice-cream on a thirty-degree day. “Let me make you feel good.”

“Okay.” Is all you say before he’s making good on his promise and making you feel so good that it’s as if there’s lava crawling beneath your bones.

His lips and hands are everywhere you need them, not hesitating to give you what you want as they usually do, not acting at a torturously slow pace. Tonight there’s no teasing, no tug-of-war between you both to see who cracks first, there’s just immense passion and trust- all the unsaid words left floating in the air are now dancing between your lips as they connect over and over again.

In this moment he’s Picasso and all he can think about is painting over you with his lips, his hands, his cock as it digs against your inviting walls, with every colour of the rainbow until the world itself is drained of all vibrancy because he’s given it all to you.

You meant what you said before, sex with Draco is always mind-boggling and lip-bitingly pleasurable, but this is different. It makes you finally understand what people mean when they say that they can see God at the height of their climax- that they feel as though their bodies are overheating and they’re going to combust at any moment.

He has never been this soft before, usually sex with him is fast, rough, hard, and all about building up the tallest tower of arousal so you can both knock it down with earth-shattering orgasms. But this is so different. This is soft, sensual, almost slow in a way- it says more than any words you two could possibly try to use to explain how much you value each other. You’re not in love, that’s for sure, but this feeling, this painfully exquisite moment, is the closest thing you two will ever get to uttering the words, “I love you”, to each other.

Who needs love when the two of you have each other to make you feel like you’re both burning from the inside out?

~~~

Now, as you sit next to him in Potions and watch intently as he chops up the next set of ingredients, you think that perhaps it’s you who’s going to set on fire.

“Y/N? Are you listening?”

“Hm?” You furrow your eyebrows at him as you zone back in, “Sorry, I zoned out for a second.”

“You seem to be doing a lot of that lately, are you okay?” He asks genuinely as he stops working on the potion to focus a soft gaze on you.

You gulp and nod, giving him a fake smile, “Yes, of course, don’t worry.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, seriously.” You bring your hand up to his arm as reassurance and smile again- trying to ignore how taut his muscles feel beneath your fingers, even with all the fabric between them- “What were you saying?”

“Oh!” He smiles brightly, “I was asking if you want to go down to the Black Lake next period? Since we’re both free?”

“And do what?” You narrow your eyes at him but grin still.

“I don’t know- drown ourselves, skinny dip, have a picnic- whatever your heart desires.”

“If you’re just looking for an excuse to see me naked then all you have to do is ask.” You smirk.

“I wouldn’t need to take you all the way there if I wanted to see you naked.” He grins widely and you roll your eyes, “I’ve just been wanting to go down there for a while and I thought I might as well bring you along.”

“Because you love my company?”

“Because you probably have nothing better do and no one else to hang out with.”

“We both know half the boys in this grade would drop everything for ten minutes with me, I could easily find someone to hang out with.” You reply very brazenly and he rolls his eyes at you. It’s true, more than half of the boys in the grade have tried to ask you out at least once, Potter being the most insistent, and if push came to shove you could easily find someone else to spend your free period with.

Not that you want to, free periods with Draco have actually become one of your favourite pastimes. Usually spent working on extra school work, or chatting, or trashing on Harry Potter- which happens considerably often since you both don’t like him.

“Too bad for them because you’re coming with me.”

“Because?” You raise your eyebrows at him- waiting for him to admit what you want to hear- and he mumbles a reply that you don’t quite catch- “Excuse me?”

“Because I love your company…”

“I know.” You smile with a giggle.

“Sweetheart, you are Changing my mind”

“There ain’t no excuses I swear that I’m doing my best”

“Do you still think love is fake?” You ask as you both lie in the grass and stare up at the sky- enjoying one of the only sunny days you’ll be getting this June.

“Hm?” Draco hums in questioning and you turn on your side to face him- propping your head up on your palm as you lean on your elbow.

“Love. Do you still think it’s a hoax?”

He sighs and blinks a bit before taking a gulp and averting his eyes from the sky to meet your own. “I don’t know.”

“I think in the time that we’ve been pretending to date, I’ve felt a lot of new emotions that I’d never felt before. I can’t tell you if it’s love or not because well, I don’t know what that’s supposed to look like or feel like, but I do know that I like it. It’s different to anything I’ve ever felt before because it’s comfortable and warm- it’s home in a way. It’s the kind of feeling home is meant to give me, not the dread and fear I feel when I get off the Hogwarts Express and find my parents waiting for me on the platform. Not the emptiness I feel when I have to sit through dinners with them and we have to pretend that we’re a happy family. Not the sadness I feel when I’m locked up in my room and I can hear them screaming at each other at the top of their lungs downstairs. It doesn’t feel like what I feel when I think of the Malfoy Manor, the only way I can describe what it feels like is by saying that it feels like what I feel when I think of you, or when I’m with you.”

“And what do you feel when you think of me?” You ask.

“I feel safe and happy and like there’s fire coursing through my veins - almost like I’m burning from the inside out. I don’t know if that’s what love is supposed to feel like- I’ve got no one to ask- but I know that I like feeling that way.” He closes his eyes and takes a breath, “So, to answer your question, I don’t know if I still think love is fake. All I know is that I don’t feel that hopelessness that usually consumes me, when I’m with you.”

You look at him in awe- utterly speechless and completely amazed by the words he’s just spoken to you. You can’t ask him for anything more than that, he’s clearly trying his best to be open to love and honest with you, and you don’t really want more anyway- it’s enough knowing that the two of you make each other happy. What you two have is enough. “You are fucking ethereal.” You breathe out as you sink back to the ground and go back to looking at the sun.

“So are you.” Draco says back as he picks up your hand and intertwines your fingers together. He doesn’t think that love is a hoax, he thinks that maybe he’s falling in love with you, but he’s not ready to admit that just yet- not when the fear of the only solid good thing in his life disappearing still haunts him with every waking moment. Not when you’re not showing any signs of romantic attraction toward him, because he can’t afford to be another dotted line in your book of conquests just because he got soft and caught feelings for you.

He’s not sure of himself yet, how can he be when no one ever taught him how to trust in his ability to be lovable? How can he be when even his own mother and father give him leftover scraps of affection veiled as the unconditional love of parents. Letting himself fall in love with you is a big risk to take when his own insecurities swarm his thoughts day and night, when his own fear of commitment swallows him up whole at every interval in which he thinks he’s ready to be vulnerable. No, he’s not ready to fall in love with you yet. But he’s trying to get there.

<~>

So, this ending is not what I originally envisioned, that one was a lot more compact and fluffy than this one is but I much prefer this one. When I first started writing this fic I actually started with the ending and worked my way backwards but when I finally got to the beginning I realized that the ending just didn’t fit anymore and I had to end it here.

I’m much happier with this ending because it’s undefined and open to interpretation. In a way Y/N is aromantic but in a way she’s also not- I couldn’t decide so I left it in a way that the reader can decide.

I’m planning on using the original ending in something different, which I will post here once it’s done, but yeah, this is the fic.

Anyway, love you all,

jean <3

[imagine-loki]

Wedded Bliss

TITLE: Wedded Bliss CHAPTER NO./ONE SHOT: Chapter 44 AUTHOR: MaliceManaged ORIGINAL IMAGINE: Imagine Odin determined to find Loki a wife in a misguided, though somewhat well-intentioned attempt to ‘mellow him’. … RATING: T NOTES/WARNINGS: I don’t wanna be that person, but it’d be nice to get a comment or two on this? Because I’m wondering if I should keep submitting this here or if y'all have lost interest. Which is fine! I know I don’t write stuff that’ll interest most people. I just wanna know, y'know?

______________________

    Edith stood outside Loki’s room late that night, waiting for him to open the door, though with every passing moment she doubted more and more that he would. She knocked again and stood back, knowing she wouldn’t be able to sleep until they at least tried to deal with this. After a few minutes she sighed.

    “Come on, Loki; is this really how you want to handle this?” When there was no response she huffed and threw her hands up. “Fine! Have it your way!” She turned and began walking away, grumbling half under her breath, “Just proves you really don’t respect me after all.”

    Not a moment later, Loki pulled the door open and stepped out. “Do not be ridiculous; of course I respect you,” he snapped.

    “Oh, look; he’s alive!” she said sarcastically, whirling around to face him. “And I’m ridiculous? You put me in a bubble! A literal bubble! All over one shooter. What, you trust me to fight aliens, but not one solitary sniper?”

    “We had no way of knowing there were not more.”

    “And if there had been; how the hell does leaving me out in the open like that make sense?”

    “You were perfectly safe within that shield. I know what I am doing.”

    “And yet, you keep missing the point here!”

    “Oh? Enlighten me, then; what is ‘the point’?” he asked almost mockingly.

    “The point is you left me!” she yelled, losing her patience at his tone, startling him. “You left me behind without a second thought. How is that respect?”

    “I was trying to protect you!”

    “I don’t need you to protect me; I need you to trust me!”

    “I do trust you! Have I not proven that by now?”

    “I don’t know, have you? Because it sure doesn’t look like that from my end!”

    Loki tried to ignore how much that stung. He’d been trying so hard, and here she was, ignoring it. “Well, what do you want me to do, then? You complain about my actions, but you cannot be bothered to tell me what in Hel it is that you want?”

    “I did! You’re not listening to me!”

    “I have done nothing but listen to you!”

    “Bullshit! You ran off and left me behind! Do you have any idea what it would have done to me if you’d run into a trap you couldn’t get out of and I couldn’t help you? We go. Together. Always! For a reason! How would you feel if I pulled something like that on you?” she asked, squaring her shoulders and eyeing him challengingly.

    The argument died on his tongue the moment the words sunk in, and he deflated. He hadn’t thought about that. At all. And once that got through, he pondered her question. “… Betrayed,” he admitted quietly at length, “I would feel betrayed.” He walked up to her, hesitating before slowly placing his hands on her hips then moving closer when she didn’t pull away. “I’m sorry.”

    She slid her hands up his chest and sighed, feeling very tired all of a sudden. “I’m… grateful that you were there, though; I don’t want you to think I’m not, just… There are lines.”

    “No, you are… I will try to do better.”

    “Thank you.” She wrapped her arms around his neck and tilted her face up to kiss his cheek. “I love you.”

    “And I you.” He rested his forehead against hers for a moment, closing his eyes, then stepped back and took her hands in his. “I don’t suppose there is any way I can convince you to stay the night?” That got him a raised eyebrow. “To sleep, I swear.”

    She eyed him suspiciously for a moment but allowed him to lead her into his room in the end, guessing (correctly) that he just wanted to be reassured she really was alright. He gave her a blanket of her own then they climbed into bed facing each other, and he turned the light off with a flick of his wrist.

    “Are you very angry with me?” he asked quietly after a while.

    “I’m not very pleased with you,” she replied. “Back with the bandits you said you wanted me to be respected as a fighter, and then you go and do that. That hurt.”

    “You are right. You are exactly right,” he sighed, “I should have seen that, I just… I did not think. You were in danger and it blinded me to all else. Truth is, sometimes I still do not know with to do with you. It surprises me how much I have come to care in such a relatively short amount of time, but I care, and that makes me want to hold onto you, and that…” he huffed a humourless laugh, “Well, clearly I have not figured out yet how tightly is too tight.”

    “Well, we definitely need to work on that, for both our sakes,” she frowned, “And don’t get me wrong; I know I need to work on how stubborn I am, too. We both have work to do there.” She turned onto her back and let out an amused huff. “That’s two assassination attempts in as many months; I’m a popular gal.”

    He laughed despite himself. “That is one way to look at it, I suppose.”

    “Oh, hey, I wonder if they’ve gotten anywhere in Asgard with those prisoners you sent,” she remembered suddenly.

    “I suppose we will find out when we return,” he replied after a moment. He hadn’t really thought about that attack with everything that happened since, but now that she brought it up, his concerns began to resurface. “Unless of course something significant occurs that requires my involvement before that.”

    “Makes sense.” She turned onto her side again and freed a hand from the covers, searching until she found his jaw, earning an amused huff before he took her hand and brought it to his lips to kiss her palm. “You okay about that?”

    “Why would I not be?”

    “Something about that attack bothered you. I’ve been waiting for you to bring it up yourself, but at this point I’m guessing you won’t.” He didn’t respond but she could feel his frown beneath her fingers. “You don’t have to tell me what it is if you don’t want to; I’m just asking if you’re okay.”

    He considered for a long moment, torn between his instinct to keep things himself and the desire to be more open with her like he’d promised to try. “During the interrogation I conducted, the prisoner said… something odd. It left me with questions. I tried to investigate while we were home, but the answers I managed to find were… unsatisfactory, to say the least.”

    “‘Unsatisfactory’ as in ‘they didn’t know’, or…?”

    “I am being lied to,” he replied with a hint of anger.

    “Well, there must be a reason,” she felt him inhale to retort and covered his mouth with her hand, “I’m not saying it’s a good one and you should let it go. I’m saying there has to be a reason, and figuring out what it is might help find the truth. I’m on your side, Loki. At least give me that much credit.”

    He let out a somewhat self-conscious laugh. “Sorry, dýrr minn; habit.”

    “You’re lucky I like you,” she huffed.

    “Only ‘like’?”

    “Don’t push your luck, mister.”

****

    Three days before Frigga’s Nameday found Edith and Loki stuck in moderate traffic on their way to an event that Edith had drawn the short straw to attend, playing an asgardian board game that he’d conjured to float between them and she was losing miserably at.

    She swore viciously as she lost again, to the amusement of their driver, and crossed her arms at her chest. “You’re cheating,” she accused petulantly.

    “I am not; you are simply terrible at this,” he chuckled, “Though I must say, that pout is terribly endearing.”

    “Fuck you,” she grumbled.

    “Promises, promises.”

    At that the driver couldn’t hold back a laugh, and she glared at him, trying to fight a smile until it peeked out despite her efforts. After that they switched to playing Battleship, which she had much better luck in. Some forty minutes later, traffic finally loosened enough for the driver to find an alternate route to their destination and Edith cheered, to their amusement.

    When they arrived to the fundraiser, Loki exited the car first as Edith took a moment to don her public face then took his offered hand and climbed out, smiling at the cameras for a bit before heading inside the building proper. Loki stood back as she spoke with potential donors, frankly impressed with her skill at schmoozing. He’d known that she could be very charming when she wanted to be, of course, but convincing people to part with their money was another thing altogether. He garnered some attention himself, though he could certainly have done with fewer people flirting with him, particularly right in front of Edith.

    Once the event wound to a close (successfully, Edith smugly informed Tony via text), Edith was leaning heavily on him while their driver brought the car around back, teasing him about the amount of people that had attempted to give him their number. “Lucky you I’m not the jealous type.”

    “Yes; lucky me,” he deadpanned, then scoffed distastefully, “Those people are utterly shameless. Granted, the court is not much better, but they at least tend to keep their attempts out of your sight.”

    “To be fair, some of them probably didn’t think we’re actually dating; we haven’t exactly been all that public about it.”

    “We go out in public together all the time!”

    “I go out with the guys all the time, too, and it’s pretty well known I’m not dating any of them. Since you’re not all that fond of PDA, it wouldn’t be much of a reach to assume it’s like that.”

    “So, you are saying I should be more overt with my affection? That is ridiculous,” he scoffed.

    “Wow, thanks.”

    The car pulled up before them, and he opened the door for her before getting in behind her. She wasted no time removing her heels, sighing in relief. He glanced at the driver then threw up a silencing spell around them to keep their conversation private.

    “I meant that it is none of their business. Such things are not necessary in Asgard for others to know of and respect another’s courtship.”

    “This ain’t Asgard, Loki.”

    “I am well aware of that.” That got a raised eyebrow and he crossed his arms at his chest. “What do you suggest, then?”

    “Nothing you’d be too uncomfortable with. A picture or two of us together on my Instagram should be enough to get the point across. We make it known, and you don’t have to touch me in public; it’s a win-win.”

    “I… I do not mind touching you in public,” he balked.

    “Yes, that must be why we’ve never even held hands,” she teased. He stammered for a moment and she laughed and leaned over to kiss his cheek. “Relax, dude; you’re a private person, I get it. If it bothered me, we wouldn’t have lasted this long.”

    He made to reply, but just then the driver let out a confused ‘what the fuck’ and they looked over to see a lone figure standing in the middle of the otherwise empty street. More importantly, said figure was holding a rocket launcher that was aimed right at them. Loki lunged forward to grab the driver’s shoulder as he took hold of Edith with his other hand, encasing them in his seidr just as the projectile reached them and teleporting them a short distance away.

    “Get to safety!” he told the driver, who looked about ready to throw up. He looked at Edith and hesitated for a moment before conjuring her uniform belt and holding it out to her. “There is no point in telling you to go, is there?”

    “No,” she replied simply, taking her belt and buckling it on over her dress, “Let’s go get this prick.”