A/N: Day 1 of Loki/Darcy week. The prompt was 'jealousy.'

Jealousy. A particularly vicious emotion that bewitches the mind and makes the blood boil. One's own vision is clouded in green, and the tongue becomes a venomous weapon hellbent on destruction. For her, it's a constricting feeling of constant uncertainty and pain that wriggles in and out of her head all day. For him, it's pure seething anger and frustration. His control loosens, and unbound magic seeps from him in ripples which makes everyone around him feel on edge. Despite its destructive nature, neither Darcy or Loki will admit to each other how much they are affected by it. Every moment that passes where this feeling rears its ugly head, a little more of their pride is chipped away.

Loki circles her in a predatory manner, and his magic is rippling out around him. Darcy stands there with her arms crossed, ignoring the magic that was flickering out at her like the flames of a fire. "Barton was getting too close for comfort, Darcy. Maybe he deserved having his neck nearly snapped today." She looked at him incredulously, her mouth parted in surprise, but that expression quickly changed to anger. She stepped forward and swung her right fist at him, which wasn't really the brightest decision. She was aiming for his head but a miscalculation in height difference caused her to land the blow on his armored shoulder instead. Her hand throbbed with pain, but Darcy shook it off and shot him a glare, "What the FUCK is your problem? Why are you so jealous?"

"I'm not je—", he started to say, until Darcy cut him off and waved her hand in his face.

"Oh no, no. Don't tell me that you aren't jealous because you so are. That's, like, your thing. You're jealous of Thor, of my friends, of my brothers. Everything. Everyone. Pretty much everything that might make me focus my attention on anything else but you, huh?" She paused for a moment to allow him to speak, but for the first time in his life he could not think of even a half-decent reply. Loki simply stood there, feeling rather foolish, and tried to focus is gaze upon anything else besides her.

Darcy groaned in frustration and started to pace in front of him as he had done to her earlier, trying to gather her thoughts together. After a few minutes of pacing, she stopped. She looked him straight in the eyes and asked quietly, "What are you afraid of?" His eyes widened in surprise at her question, and he still couldn't think of a suitable answer. Loki visibly flinched when she said, "Be honest. For once." Honest? Being bluntly honest about anything, especially is feelings, is something that he never had to deal with.

She studied his expression carefully, and saw his eyes flicker back and forth, clearly uncertain about what he should say or do next. She sighed and crossed her arms, slightly annoyed by his eternal silence. "I guess you're afraid that I'm gonna find someone else, right? That some random dude is just gonna bust right into my life and sweep me off my feet right under your nose." He opened his mouth to speak, almost ready to tell her a lie—that what she said wasn't true. Before he could even get a word out, she shook her head. Her eyes started to sting with tears and her voice wavered slightly, "Is that how you think I feel about you? That I'm just gonna let that happen?"

"You.. you don't have any right to feel that way about me. To not trust me at all." She lifted her glasses and wiped her eyes with the sleeve of her jacket, "… jackass. I'm just a twenty-year-old girl that likes music and geeky crap and has a weird family and a bunch of superheros as friends. That's all I've got."

In a way, he was grateful that she kept talking, even though his stomach churned and his heart felt all knotted up from every sentence that came out of her mouth. Because he could not find the right words to say to her, and he felt like an idiot. In the back of his mind he could hear Volstagg calling out, "What happened? Silver tongue turned to lead?"

She went on and on, just pouring her heart out and letting every word that she thought roll off her tongue. Loki truly admired her for that, because she was being far more braver than he was. Meanwhile, Darcy was hating herself and feeling mortified that she cannot keep her trap shut, and that everything she's saying is just turning into a scatterbrained run-on sentence. "I should be the one who's insanely jealous. Me. You know, 'cause I've got a freakin' thousand-plus-year-old Norse God standing in front of me and-and hanging out with me, and doing romantic crap with me that I don't even know why he's doing it. If it's because he's just playing games or—holy shit—he actually cares about me in THAT way."

Her face starts to turn a bit pink, all the way up to the tips of her ears, and she nervously twists her hair around her fingers. "And-and, I don't know! I would like to think so 'cause, y'know, we DID it. A LOT. More than people who are 'just friends' and more intimately or lovey-dovey for people who are just 'fuck buddies'" Loki felt slightly bad that he was amused by her ramblings and gestures. She was rocking on the balls of her feet and tugging on the cords of her hood. A subtle smile formed on his lips—something that Darcy would take no notice of. He had never seen her talk so much, unless it was something she was particularly passionate about. "But then I'm like isn't this a thing that he does? Fucks women—errr—things and makes babies out of it? Don't think I haven't read the literature, man. Don't eveeeeen! Or what about Amora, who conveniently shows up everywhere you and Thor are? And what about that Sigyn chick? What if she shows up and fucks everything up?"

She has started to pace around again, flinging her arms all over the place and sighing exasperatedly to further animate her frustration. "And what the fuck, man? Who even does these things with another person without telling them what the relationship 'is' in the first place? You don't just do this stu—-" Darcy's speech was halted when Loki abruptly seized her by the shoulders and kissed her roughly on the mouth. It wasn't the most original or expressive romantic gesture, but he figured he had to shush her somehow or else he wouldn't be able to get a word in otherwise.

Loki pulled away, and he cupped one hand beneath her chin, tilting her head up so she'd look at him. "Darcy, I'm sorry," he said as he wiped her tears away. "It really wasn't my intention for you to feel so.. hurt about everything. But in a way, I'm glad." He smiled slightly when her mouth opened (most likely to say something rather mean), and he placed his fingers over her lips before she could say a word, "—because it shows that you care. I cannot fathom why, but you do even though I don't deserve it. And I'm… really, truly grateful. For everything."

Darcy's starts to turn a shade of bright red, and she wraps her arms around him and buries her face into his chest to hide her embarrassment. He holds her close, and they stay like that for a while until she suddenly looks up at him and says, "How did we get from talking about Clint Barton almost breaking his neck to this?"

He grins at her, "I'm not entirely sure, but I'm not sorry that it happened this way." She raises her eyebrows at him, "You'd better be sorry! Don't think that you can lay out your sugary sweet—and totally appreciated, by the way—speech on me and expect me to just forget about what you did!" Loki lowers his head to her ear and whispers, "I can't?" She shakes her head, "Nope!"

"No?" he waggles his eyebrows at her. He slips his hands beneath her shirt and ghosts his fingertips along her lower back. She wiggles out of his arms and says, "Okay, man! No sex for you!" She has an amused expression on her face, so he takes it to mean that she's kidding. Loki brings his hand up to his mouth as a mock gesture of shock, "No! You wouldn't!"

She huffs and crosses her arms, "Yeah, I would! We won't be doing the mattress mambo any time soon, so don't even tryyyyy!"

"Ha! Are you so sure about that?", he replies. His smirk falls when he sees her walking towards the door. "Darcy, are you serious?"

"Yup!" she calls out as she steps out of the room and closes the door behind her. He looks at the door, mouth slightly agape, for a moment, and then sprints after her down the hallway, "You can't be serious!"