Things I Love. Mostly Tom Hiddleston. I Love Him.

He doesn’t seem to be convinced either way, falling to his knees next to the couch and scooping you into his arms to hold you tight.

Freeing an arm to reciprocate, you revel in the restrained strength – it makes you feel safe. Suddenly, you’re crying. Shivering sobs from the bottom of your lungs that steal your breath away until you’re gasping for air and Steve has to talk your through breathing only to unleash a new wave as soon as you’ve calmed a bit.

“It’s okay,” Steve assures you, “you did so good.”

You’re vaguely aware of the door opening again and then a shift to allow another person join in the embrace: Loki. Some mumbled exchange takes place above your head.

“You are so brave, flower.” Loki kisses the top of your head. “Our perfect girl.”

They keep rocking you gently, mumbled praises calming you down, and eventually you can dry your eyes and look up at them. Puffy face or not, they regard you only with love that makes your heart melt. They’ll protect you as best as they can and while they cannot be with you 24/7, they will come to you if it’s really needed. Come for you.

“I’m sorry,” you sniffle, making both men shake their heads. “She...she said something, told me to tell you...” You inhale shakily, trying to recall the exact words. “Any means necessary to re-establish order.”

If the words hold any importance to the men, they don’t show it.

“It’ll be okay, doll,” Steve insists.

Even Loki nods. “Don’t worry about it.”

Pulling back a bit, you glare up in defiance. “But if she’ll come for you, like Stark’s men did?”

“We’ll be fine. Trust us.

And you do. You do trust them.

---

Against your expectations, the men suggest going out for dinner that night. Figuring it might be a display of sorts, you don’t object to it even if you’d rather stay cooped up at home for the next eternity.

“Second lesson,” Loki smiles as you are all getting your shoes on.

Steve chimes in: “Don’t make yourself smaller because of others. Live your life to the fullest.”

Stunned, you look from one to the other. “This isn’t to show that we can’t be bullied?”

There’s a brief exchange of glances. Something proud.

“Part of it is,” Steve relents, “but mostly it’s because you have to watch out for yourself. Once you allow yourself to be reigned in, your life will keep shrinking.”

You consider the implications and find yourself recognizing that that’s exactly as you’d have done.

“Ah.”

This time, it’s not just the three of you walking down the streets to the restaurant but also a posse of mobsters spread out around you as security. It’s not unfamiliar to you, but there are more than usual and you can’t help but feel a bit wary yourself too, your gaze constantly darting to the alley mouths and flickering over the faces of people passing by.

Of course, nothing happens.

You make it to the restaurant, leaving the “guards” outside after one of them has had a peek into the place to see if it’s safe. Apparently it is, because Loki ushers you in after Steve and soon the three of you are seated at a corner table at the back.

There’s no offer of free champagne this time but the chef himself comes out, greeting Steve like an old friend and offering a special menu which you all agree to.

It’s easy to forget the troubles of the day as you sit and indulge in the excellent food and sweet company. That’s when you have to admit something to yourself. Something that has been happening over a long time but you’ve not put the words to until this evening where you’re laughing at their stories despite the dangers of the world you’re being brought into: you love them.

Both of them.

You had expected that maybe you’d prefer one over the other and turn them against each other to be free of the arrangement but now...now you don’t want out. Not even with the threats of Romanova or anyone else.

Reaching for their hands, you smile to them and butterflies go crazy in your belly as they return the gesture.

---

You’ve snuggled up between then en, listening to them fall asleep, each with an arm around you and their heads on your shoulders. And you’re still awake, tiptoeing through a mental borderland of anxiety due to the recent events and the giddiness of understanding that you’re in love.

Kissing first one and then the other on the crown of the heads, you smile in the darkness.

“I love you.”

It’s a quiet whisper, meant to just test out the words on your own, but Loki stirs. You can feel how he lifts his head to try and see you. It’s a bit fumblingly, finding his mouth with yours, but you manage to and revel in the sharp intake of air he takes at the contact. The kiss is slow and exploratory and lovely until eventually, you both settle down again, content. Maybe slightly horny.

---

You wake to whispers. Quiet words that curl into your hazy dream to gently easy you into the morning. Snuggling up between the warm bodies, you refuse to open your eyes at first, wanting to simply enjoy lying there for a bit – the night has been too short for you.

“Sweetheart,” Steve hums. “Loki says you have something I should hear too...”

His lips brush your cheek, your jaw, your neck, and you stretch to give him better access to the sensitive spot beneath your ear.

“Tell me or I won’t kiss you again,” he threatens, lips hovering right where you want him to kiss.

Pouting, you think of excuses to hesitate. “I’m not sure what you’re talking about.”

You hear Loki laugh softly. “I know, I wasn’t meant to hear...but it’s not fair that only I heard you.”

The two have gotten maybe a bit too allied, but you figure it’s a better alternative to how it used to be before that day in the cafe.

You blink, looking first to Loki, who has his head propped up from the pillow, then turning to meet Steve’s eyes so close to you. Sinking back, you close your eyes once more. Imagine them both asleep. That makes it easier.

“I love you. Both of you.”

It’s just a whisper but you know they’ve heard it clearly because they start to kiss you, slow and almost reverently until you are dizzy with loving. They don’t have to say it back to you, you know it.

Everything stops, though, when your stomach suddenly rumbles, sending all three of you into a laughing fit that continues as you get up and move to the kitchen to sort breakfast.

Eventually the joy fades, though, leaving room to consider the plans for the day to come.

“I’ll be going to the hospital to check on Mobius,” Loki announces.

“Can I show her?” Steve asks the other man.

You don’t know what he refers to, but you find yourself hoping that Loki will say yes and judging by the delight in Steve’s eyes when Loki does approve, you gather you should be excited too.

---

Steve’s driven you further into his part of the city, refusing on the way to divulge what you should expect and you are no closer at figuring it out, when he pulls into a parking space not far from the library in a street with a quick mart and an apothecary. A few closed storefronts speak of a place that’s quiet but when you look down the street, you see the end of a park.

“It’s this one,” Steve catches your attention by pointing to a building with glass fronts covered in cardboard on the inside.

Going to the door, he unlocks it and offers you to go in first.

It’s dusty and, until Steve finds the switches, dusky. Then you see the space as it sprawls before you, only hampered by a few load-bearing pillars that your mind immediately decorates with fairy-lights and climbing plants. You can see where small and big tables can be placed, some perfect for TTRPG and others simply for lounging by. There is, sort of a third into the area, an old counter that rails off the access to a door to a side room, you assume.

“There are toilets further back,” Steve explains. “They need a loving hand...all of it does but...it’s an option.”

You barely hear him, already envisioning how you can transform the place.

Rating: R (Dark Elements!)

Theme Song: ALWAYS BEEN YOU by Chris Grey

‘’..i accept your proposal my lord..’’ He gave you an indifferent look and you added, ‘’to contain my secret of who i am, in exchange for my.. Body and devotion.’’

There was a soft, gentle sensation that ran slowly up and down your spine, almost complimenting the rest of yourself that seemed to be in deep, utter relaxation. 

A hum left your parted lips while your eyes remained closed, arms stretching out amongst the large, soft bed while the warmth continued to caress and memorize your spine before following with a gentle, soft wetness to cover its trail.

Your eyes snapped wide open.

Your body immediately went to get up before a hand could be felt completely pressing flat between your shoulderblades and pushing to keep you pinned down on the very bed that wasn't yours. You knew it was too good to be true- slowly waking to the feeling of utter warmth and softness, followed by the gentle caress of flesh against your own. You were quick to realize that you had been sprawled out amongst Loki’s bed on your stomach- his scent having filled your nostrils and the quiet realization that his hand and tongue had been roaming about your back. 

Your whole body went rigid and dared not move about too much by feeling the sheets had just stopped above your hips. ‘’Wha- why am i naked??”

You could hear Loki’s sudden laugh while his hand continued to hold you down. ‘’Not quite what I imagined your first question to be.’’

Oh gods- you had overslept! You never over slept- it had to be the booze you were forced to drink last night.. Although some memories were fuzzy, there was no doubt you had perhaps passed out last night. Which would mean.. Loki must have carried you and out of all things, decided to place you in his bed- having removed the towel that was the only thing covering your modesty. Your cheeks heated up red as you kept still, not wishing to discover anything your body might notify you on if you were to so much as flex a muscle.

‘’Did.. Did we..’’

‘’Did we fuck?” Loki finished your sentence- making it more crude than how you would have put it. You could practically feel the bastard smirking down at you while his hand began to draw lines along your back once more, watching how you dare not move after realizing how bare you were. ‘’Believe me, I lost quite a deal of sleep thinking about it, but i would hope our first time would be having you conscious enough to remember it.’’

Your heart beats fast where you wouldn't be surprised if your whole entire body was rising up and down. You shivered when you felt his fingertips brush a few of your locks to the side, granting him more access to your back while goosebumps ran across your skin.

‘’C-can i get up?”

‘’And bless my eyes to the wonderful sight of your front? I would love that darling, but I quite wish to enjoy you like this for a little while longer.’’ Loki purred and you squeezed your eyes shut to force out that strange fluttering feeling beginning in the pit of your stomach.

‘’I have my chores to do..’’

‘’Which you are already late on, but luckily for your sake, we had someone take over your position for the morning to grant you more time in training.’’ Loki almost sounded like he was scolding- as if this wasn't his entire fault for getting you drunk.

‘’T-then lets train..’’

‘’In a moment darling, though I quite appreciate the eagerness to serve me.’’ He smirked before you felt a dip on either side of your shoulders, followed by the sight of his hands in your side view before suddenly feeling a warm breath fan across your back.

Before you could so much as think about moving away, you suddenly felt the gentle press of lips begin to caress your spine, starting from the stop and making its way lazily down past your shoulder blades. A low hum could be heard and your nails began to curl into the sheets below you.

‘’M-my prince..’’

‘’Mmm?”

‘’W-what are you-’’

‘’Have you forgotten our deal already Y/N? I promise to keep your secret, in exchange for your willing,’’ kiss. ‘’Devoted,’’ kiss. ‘’Utter,’’ kiss. ‘’Obedient,’’ kiss. ‘’Self.’’ his kiss lingered at your lower back and you could have sworn you felt the swipe of his tongue before the tip of his nose began to trace back to where he had started. ‘’As my chambermaid.’’

Even if your identity could be given up, this whole deal also stemmed from Delilah's safety. What were you to do? Even now you trembled as his hands slowly glided off the mattress and were now caressing your hips, his knees on either side of your own while he practically straddled your thighs with something familiar, large and hard brushing up against many parts of you when he would shift and move.

‘’S-sire.. I wish to make sure my duties are studied and prepared before we.. indulge to better make sure nothing goes wrong for tomorrows routine..’’ you said quietly, feeling like a mouse under a cat’s paw, tapped and pinned while you debated on biting into the pillow below you.

After an agonizing pause where you just felt his fingertips caress under to explore your hip bones and his tongue tracing along your spine and towards your neck, he then relented and disappeared from you entirely. It wasn't until you felt the mattress shift, you slowly turned over with a hand quick to pull the covers against your chest and find him standing beside the bed.

Naked still.

‘’Very well darling, come and I shall show you to your new chambers.’’

It took a moment to draw your eyes back up to his and will the redness away from your cheeks before realizing what he just said. ‘’New chambers? But i thought-’’

‘’You are my chambermaid darling and as such, will be at my beck and call, no matter how early or how late. Staying close will make such a task more convenient. You should be grateful.’’

His shapeness had you sit up quickly and nod, pushing your hair away from your face while clutching at the sheets. ‘’I’m grateful, sire- and understand.. Will I.. Receive a new uniform?” you asked and bit your bottom lip with a prayer that this new job didn't require you to wear nothing while serving him- as much as it would sound like it would be.

Loki smirked and looked you over, almost as if debating if he should do just that and rid of the uniform entirely in his presence. However, going out from his chambers would be necessary for when it came to fetching particular things and something told you, he didn't like anyone gazing upon what ‘was his’. 

‘’Get up.’’

You hesitated at first, distracted at being grateful that his touch was now off of you but by swinging your legs off the bed and making to leave, you felt a pull at the sheets. Glancing back, you noticed how the sheets were probably tightly tucked on the other end, making it impossible to pull them off with you and even if they weren't. The look on Loki’s face was telling you they wouldn't be included either.

‘’Sire..’’

‘’This deal of ours Y/N will have to have you grow accustomed to being bare around me a lot, whether or not I touch or not.’’ Loki said almost too calmly, as if this whole thing was normal.. I mean, maybe it was.. He seemed to have no problem standing about while sporting his morning wood. 

You swallowed thickly, feeling the twists in your stomach and your hatred begin to grow in your chest. This man was disgusting… an utter pig and you hated how he had the upper hand within everything while you secretly held his equal position.. On a different realm at least. Back at home, you wouldn't have to do a damn thing he said.. But you chose this life, and in anything.. Do it for Deililah.. 

Drawing in a breath, you felt the sheets slide from your fingers as you slowly got off the bed and bared yourself to him, standing naked now with your eyes penetrating the carpet at your feet. 

The silence begged you to look at him, to see if the man saw you as disgusting or nothing more than a goddess… but you couldn't bear to look at him. You hated to feel like you wanted to see his reaction.. To see how he saw you since he already made it clear he barely tolerated you as a person.. If he even saw you as that. You stayed still, biting your bottom lip before your vision saw his hand raise from his side and you tensed, thinking he was going to touch you.

However, starting from your feet and traveling up your body, his Seidr began to surround yourself in its greenish- gold light, making you feel staticky and tingly before your eyes had to blink away its remnants as if disappeared as quick as it came. Parts of your body felt clothed now, drawing your attention to take in your form to find exactly what he had done to you.

Wrapping around your body but leaving a generous amount of skin was silk of his own colors. Gold and green wrapped around you while also insinuating your feminine form- showing off your cleavage, legs and stomach. It was hardly a servant's gown.. Your old one has been a simple yet modest dress at least. This.. this looks like one you would wear to Asgard’s fascist brothels as perhaps a dancer or performer!

Your arms immediately went to cover yourself, widening and finally looking up at Loki’s face who seemed to be utterly mesmerized by you- something told you his face hadn't changed since you got off the bed.

‘’Hide not darling, for you are utterly beautiful!” Loki’s hands spread out with a wide growing wider. ‘’My aren't we quite filled with surprises lately!”

‘’Oh please, you’ve been eye fucking me far beyond today.. You’re just taking advantage of this situation..’’ you mumbled, red faced and wanting to cave into yourself while Loki’s expression turned dry.

‘’I could always have you naked again if that is what you prefer,’’ he then smirked and flicked his gaze at you. ‘’Especially if you continue to run your mouth as if you find ourselves equal.’’

The comment immediately had you shut up and look away from him with a hard glare. You needed to remember your place.. Forced to bear it or not.. He already discovered your species, the last thing you needed was for him to find out you are of royalty. 

All Hel would break loose!

And besides.. Skimpy or not, at least you had something on..

Drawing in a breath, you straightened up and offered a small bow, hating how you knew gave a good look at your cleavage. ‘’Thank you sire.. I hope to serve you well..’’ asshole.

It was good enough for Loki where he smirked, clearly enjoying your submission while his eyes hardly ventured above your neck before he scooped up your hands in his, holding them close as if the two of you were lovers.

‘’Good girl. I think it’s best time i show you exactly what i expect of you.’’

Note: Outfit is.. close enough from what i was imagining Lol hope the description helped tho :3

ON AO3 :D

Rogers and Laufeyson exit the car from either side, looking about as if expecting something before Rogers holds a hand out for you to take, helping you onto the sidewalk as Laufeyson rounds the cab to join you on the other side. Both offer you an arm, and you try your best to seem confident as you accept both to walk between them the short way to the restaurant’s entrance. As if it was normal for you. For them.

You’re all greeted just inside the door by the host who asks for a name of the reservation only to damn near pass out when hearing Laufeyson’s name.

“Right away, sirs...miss...this way,” he stutters, leading you to a round table in the corner where there’s an excellent view of the entire place.

Rogers pulls out the chair for you after Laufeyson has taken your jacket. You don’t look for the seat as you sit down, trying to trust that he has your best interest at heart and indeed – you get a softly purred “good girl” from him.

Fuck. That comment, soft and just for you, sparks something inside you that you don’t want either of the men to know of.

Trying to shake it off, you try to shrug off the comment but Laufeyson reaches for you, touching the tip of your fingers as if to reassure you too and it almost does you in when you meet his gaze and he’s looking into your soul, a tiny smirk gracing his lips.

“I think, our girl will do well as we mentor her in the ways of the city,” he quietly relays to Rogers as they both sit.

You know your way around table manners, fine dining, and the like. Not that you’ve gone to this fancy places often, but your parents had believed in a strict upbringing as if they expected you to some day dine with the president. Well, that was now your luck as you can behave properly with your two companions. Dates. Boyfriends?

“Champagne? On the house.”

A waitress has tiptoed over and is holding up a bottle and three glasses. When Rogers nods, she continues with her job as if completely unfazed by the guests...and you envy her. Even more as she retreats, leaving you alone with the full attention of the men once more.

“To our future.” Rogers lifts his glass in a friendly toast which Laufeyson quickly returns.

Both look at you expectantly and of course you join. What else can you do? Forcing a smile, you are surprised to see how still your hand is despite your inner turmoil.

Moments later the waitress is back with an arrangement of appetizers and the menus, giving you something else to put your mind to than the odd sensation that’s still lingering within you after the tiny exchange as you sat down.

---

It is nearly impossible to enjoy the start of the dinner but as the evening goes on and the men keep the conversation going, you find that you begin to relax. Or maybe it’s the wine that does it. It doesn’t matter what it is as long as you can just breathe and not worry so much all the time.

Laufeyson is the one who talks the most but Rogers has his moments as he sneaks in comments that have you giggling at times. Each laugh they win from you the men gobble up.

“Tell me, doll, what’s your dream for that cafe of yours?”

Looking briefly at Rogers, you figure he genuinely wants to know, but ever so briefly a flare of insecurity burns in you as you weigh your words before speaking.

“I want to create a place that’s safe for people to come when they have no other place to go to aside from home.” You’re staring at your plate, the remnants of the sauce smeared across the porcelain. “A cafe with board games and tables for role playing games and soft chairs and couches for curling up with a book while enjoying whatever you’ve gotten to drink or eat.”

“Flower,” Laufeyson urges you to look at them, “that is a beautiful idea.”

“I could have used a place like that when growing up,” Rogers admits.

Talking about your dream to these men is strange yet freeing as you’ve never dared to say those words out loud before. Now that you have, though...

“I want the chairs and tables to all be different, allowing people to choose what they prefer. I think I’ll try to keep it in deep red and golden colours though so it’s warm and cozy. Real plants.”

You can see it for your inner eye – ideally you’d want rugs on the floor too but that would be difficult to keep clean so you’ll accept something else.

What you don’t see it the softness in the eyes of the men that are listening to your dream.

---

You’re plenty tipsy by the time you unlock the door to your new home, leading the two mobsters in, but the moment the door closes with a soft click of the lock, the tipsiness evaporates, replaced by a cold realization of what is about to happen: the men will follow you to the bedroom and undress with you before joining you in bed. Somehow, you don’t see the two men spooning, meaning that you instead will be sandwiched between them.

But then you look at them, how they toe their shoes off and take their time to neatly hang their coats away, and something inexplicably calms inside of you. Riding that high, you bring them to the bedroom but there your confidence dies out and you excuse yourself as you grab your pyjama and hurry to the bathroom to change there.

The mumbled voices of the men are audible through the door but you can’t pick up on what they are saying and by the time you join them, they’ve gone quiet again. Laufeyson is sitting on the edge of the bed, a silken emerald pyjama on, while Rogers is wearing nothing but boxers and for a moment you forget anything else because, honestly, he’s a sight for sore eyes and something inside you wants to be heard: a little voice that whispers that maybe you can get used to the physicality they eventually expect of the arrangement.

As Rogers and Laufeyson go to the bathroom, you enter the bed, carefully adjusting the pillows on either side of you to grant a bit of distance. And then you wait.

You don’t have to wait long before the men shoulder their way through the door and pick a side each to crawl into bed. Laufeyson on your left and Rogers on your right, both turned towards you but keeping neatly to themselves as if to let you be the one to decide whether to take it all a step further. Reaching for their hands, you silently try to get comfortable despite the fact that the awkwardness is making you lie stiff as a board.

“Thank you for tonight,” you manage, surprising yourself by meaning it as you add: “I enjoyed it.”

“Anytime, sweetheart,” Rogers purrs.

Laufeyson nods. “It was our pleasure, flower.”

A frail smile from you make them grin proudly and then, as if by a shared thought, they lean in and kiss you on either cheek.

Blinking blearily, you realize that you’re facing Laufeyson, his arm wrapped around your waist and his forehead less than an inch from yours. That must mean that the body you feel pressed against your back as a hard wall of muscle is Rogers who has a hand on your hip and something hard prodding against your butt that makes your breath stutter at the realization.

As if on cue, Laufeyson opens his eyes and meets your gaze.

“Good morning,” he whispers.

“Morning.”

He smiles for a second before a serious frown crowns his brow.

“Excuse me.”

Half expecting him to get up, you’re caught by surprise when he instead kisses your forehead. His lips are cool on your heated skin and you realize you’re instinctively chasing the contact when he slowly pulls away. Stopping yourself, you can’t make yourself meet his gaze but thankfully he doesn’t comment on it. Just kisses you gently again.

Hot lips press against your shoulder at the same time. A hand tightens on your hip but doesn’t dare pull you closer.

So you try.

Slowly, you stretch, allowing your ass to press against Rogers’ groin while, at the other end, your chest brushes against Laufeyson. You see his eyes darken, his hand drifting up your side so the thumb is so close to touch the side of your breast. But he doesn’t. Just waits to see what your reaction will be.

Rogers, on the other hand, is perhaps in a tighter spot. Rather than being tempted beyond his limits, though, he pushes on your hip to create a smidgen of space between the two of you.

“Don’t get me wrong,” he rasps with a deep morning voice, “this is a great way to wake up but...don’t rush things, doll.”

Laufeyson’s hand cups your cheek. “We have time. We’ll wait until you’re ready.”

Other people might take it as a threat and honestly, a part of you still does but...not all of you. Actually, most of you seem even more inclined to get the best out of the situation on all levels but it is nice to know, they won’t force you to do anything.

---

You must have fallen asleep again, because the next thing you know, you’re alone in the huge bed. Lying, staring at the ceiling, you hear the voices of the men. It sounds like they’re in the kitchen and as you pick up the scent of freshly brewed coffee, you decide to join them. For the sake of the coffee, of course.

The moment they spot you, though, they both light up, making something inside you flutter with delight before you shove it deep down again.

“Good morning,” Laufeyson smiles.

Rogers pulls out a chair for you. “Hungry?”

Yeah, you are. Taking the offered seat, you and the men dig into the feast they’ve prepared for you all.

“I have some business to take care off,” Laufeyson says, “it shouldn’t take too long, though.”

“What is it?” you ask only to regret it right away when you see his brow arch. “Sorry,” you mumble.

You’re watching the syrup soaking into the fluffy pancakes – anything to avoid seeing how angry he might have become at you.

“One day, you might learn more about our businesses,” the dark haired man calmly tells you, “but for now it’s probably best you don’t know.”

Nodding, you try to shake the image of him doing something gruesome. That might be who he is when “working” but he is kind to you. Same with Rogers. You’ve noticed the scars on his knuckles, but whenever he touches you, he is careful and gentle.

“I understand,” you admit.

Then you straighten up and send both men a smile as if everything is okay. “I need you to bring more of your clothes and things so it’s also your home and not just mine.”

Lighting up with their own smiles, the men seem to appreciate the change of subject.

---

They end up bringing what must be half their wardrobes over the weekend and you help them getting things sorted in the walk-in closet. Just like with most other things in your the arrangement, you find your things in the middle like a wall between theirs. Between them.

You’re silently impressed with them, though: considering they used to be competitors, enemies even, then they manage to keep it civil and you suspect that they actually enjoy having one less opponent to worry about. Or maybe they just keep any disagreements out of sight from you.

The idea is both worrying and heartwarming. You’re starting to like how they care about you. You shouldn’t but it’s been a while since someone’s treated you with that kind of attention and sweetness. You notice yourself trying to make them smile, trying to get them to touch you by lingering in their presence as you contemplate reaching out for them.

At night, you fall sleep neatly lying on your back with a bit of distance to both, but in the morning, you’re tangled up in their limbs and it makes your body throb with the need for something more that you don’t dare to ask them for yet. Still, you find yourself indulging in the nearness in those early morning hours, drifting in and out of a dreamy state where you’re unsure where you end and they start.

Like now.

Twisting gently in the arms of the men, you try not to wake them as you get comfortable again. If you were a cat, you’d have been purring.

“Darling,” Laufeyson groans, “it’s too early.”

“I know,” you whisper, deciding to nuzzle into him, “go back to sleep.”

Getting off the couch where you’ve been reading, you head towards the door but stop in your tracks when you see Laufeyson coming in, supported by Rogers. You see the bloody knuckles. See the shakiness in Laufeyson’s steps.

“It’s okay, flower,” the dark-haired man rasps, “I’ve been patched up.”

Nodding, though unsure, you help get him settled on the couch. He groans as he lifts his feet up, allowing you to pull off his shoes only to realize that he’s sprained an ankle.

“I’ll get something to clean you both up with,” you mumble.

“Wait,” Rogers stops you as much with the plea as with a hand on your arm. “You don’t have to.”

There’s something in his eyes, a desperation or a need but you don’t know what to do and all you can think of is to slip into an embrace where you tug yourself close to his chest.

“What happened?” you whisper, looking from one man to the other.

They both shake their heads but as you keep waiting for an answer, Laufeyson relents:

“Stark had a thing or two to say about our arrangement. Sent some of his men after me when I was meeting with my second, Mobius...” His voice trails off, indicating that whatever Stark’s guys did wasn’t good.

Rogers tucks you closer to his chest. “Loki got word to me. Got there in time. Mobius in the hospital and Loki needed a slug dug out. We both lost some men but at least we taught Stark a lesson.”

Freeing yourself, you kneel next to the couch, kissing Laufeyson on the cheek. “I’m glad you’re okay-ish.” Then you look from one to the other. “Get cleaned up. I’ll sort something to eat for you both.”

You can’t think of any other way you can help and it makes you feel powerless but at least your hands and mind are occupied as you set about making a quick pasta dish while the guys clean up and get into more comfortable and, most importantly, clean clothes.

It’s the first time you see Laufeyson in a t-shirt and it looks too casual on him. It also reveals part of a white bandage on his upper arm and you figure that’s where he got shot. Trying not to stare at it, you silently dish out the pasta, earning thanks from both men before they dig into the food.

Something has shifted. It’s not just the fact that there have been consequences to your arrangement, but rather an unspoken understanding between the men.

Then you realize: Rogers could have decided not to come to Laufeyson’s aid, leaving him to whatever fate there’d be for him and have you for himself. Instead, he’d decided to come and save him.

“Ro-...Steve...” Your use of his first name make them both stop mid-bite and you have to look away from their intense gazes. “Thank you for helping Loki today. Thank you for getting you both home to me.”

He reaches for you, and you take his hand gingerly, trying not to touch his raw knuckles.

“Always.”

That’s all he says. No more is needed.

---

The men have switched sides in the bed, allowing Laufeyson to lie on his good side while still getting to face you. As if wanting to make him feel better, Rogers has wordlessly made you spoon with his former competitor while he himself has nuzzled up as close as he can, a leg over your hip – heavy and shielding.

It takes a long time for you to find rest: the first light is peeping in past the edges of the curtain before you surrender to sleep and even then it’s light and marred by nightmares.

At one point you wake, silent tears streaking your face and wetting the pillow. As you move to wipe them away, Rogers stirs. A furrow forms between his brows as you looks at you, then he kisses the tears away, gingerly as if afraid he’ll cause more to spill over.

A sudden need fills you, then, and you tilt your head to catch his lips with yours. Heart beating in your chest like mad and breath stuck in your lungs, your mouth lingers there but then he kisses you back and you feel right. Relaxing in Laufeyson’s embrace, you allow him to part your lips, his tongue dipping in to taste you before he pulls back.

“Steve...” you whisper.

Smiling, he cradles your cheek. “Don’t rush. We’ll wait for as long as you need.”

“Why?”

He hesitates like he’s never considered that before, even tilts his head a bit before shrugging: “It just feels right. Complete.”

You know what he means. Nodding, you snuggle down once more – a little bit calmer.

---

The men have a lot to see to, even Loki despite his injuries, but they promise to be back as soon as they can while asking you to tell them if you go anywhere. Of course, there’ll be two of their guys coming with you, should you leave (you hadn’t expected that to change), but even so, you can sense Steve and Loki rather want you to remain at home. It’s safer. Easier.

It turns out to be boring and slightly claustrophobic too and so eventually, you text them that you’ll do groceries before poking your head out the door.

There is a small group, but you recognize one of them as Steve’s guy and figure that the rest must be one more of his and two of Loki’s. They’re on either side of the hallway as if being too close would be unsafe or maybe feel like fraternizing with the enemy.

“Ma’am?” the guy you recognize straightens up.

Be confident. “Just wanted to let you know I’ll be heading out soon,” you manage to say in a clear voice. The four men look at each other questioningly. “I’m not choosing which of you will accompany me, so consider this your chance to figure it out.”

Then you slip back inside, preparing for a trip into the dangerous world where the ones who care for you get hurt.

By the time you lock the door to the apartment, two of the guys seem to be ready to accompany you. The introduce themselves, at your request, as Jim and Oluf, respectively Steve’s and Loki’s guys.

“Alright. I’m not planning a huge trip, don’t worry,” you explain to them, “just some groceries.”

And with that, you head down the stairs and out on the street.

It’s getting later in the summer and the heat is oppressive still, making your skin clammy with dewy sweat within seconds. Thankful for your airy summer dress, you put on your sunglasses and tug at the strap of your purse before stepping fully into the sun.

You notice how Jim and Oluf look in all directions, alert and keen to stay close to you as you lead the way down a few blocks to the grocer.

It’s still relatively early, meaning that most of the shoppers haven’t gotten off work yet, allowing space for the small crowd of retirees or stay-at-homes. Grabbing a cart, you make your way through the shop, picking the things you need without dallying too much.

It’s as you reach for a bottle of olive oil that it happens: a prettily manicured hand snatches it before you, and when you look up, your gaze lands on a red-headed woman. She’s, frankly, gorgeous...but something in the way she regards you makes you tense up and look around for Jim and Oluf.

They’re both there, each with a hand under the light jackets – a sudden understanding that they are grasping at weapons hits you – and eyes narrowed at the woman and another figure who’s a bit further down the aisle: another woman.

“Fancy meeting you here,” the read-head purrs, your name rolling off her tongue easily.

“And you are?” Strangely, your voice is calm.

“My name’s Romanova,” she smiles...a smile that fades slightly as you manage to keep a stone-face somehow. “So you’re the one upsetting the balance...” Gone is the softness from her voice, instead lacing it with ice.

You could point out, that you weren’t given a choice but that’s not entirely true: even if you couldn’t have denied them completely, you could have chosen just one, leaving Loki and Steve to stand without this new alliance and thus keeping the power distribution as it has been for a long time. Instead, you straighten your back fully, trying to live up to the first lesson on how to deal with this world.

“I’m not part of their businesses. You’ll have to deal with them instead,” you announce.

That makes her arch a brow. “Oh, but you are. So tell them this...any means necessary to reestablish order.”

Her gaze lingers on you – searing your skin, it seems – before she turns and leaves, dumping the bottle of olive oil in your cart.

You stay stock still until she and the other woman is out of sight. Then you sigh, allowing your body to sort of collapse over the handlebar of the cart. Completely deflated, even the deep breaths your take are not quite enough to give you your power back.

“Ma’am,” Oluf mumbles, suddenly a lot closer, “we should leave.”

He’s absolutely right. And still a part of you protests at the thought of being bullied into submission.

“Bathe the prisoner.” Thanos commanded, sitting comfortably on his throne.

You bowed your head, then turned to do as your master bid.

The cages of special prisoners was not far from Thanos’ throne, and you knew the path well.

Down at the far end, the room uncomfortably warm, you knelt before Loki’s cage.

Loki looked up at you, eyes dull and glassy. He wore strips of tattered cloth, the last traces of his clothes desperately trying to stay together. It was not uncommon for you to see Thanos’ subjects so bare.

If you allowed yourself time to think of it, you might have noticed how attractive he was. He had strong cheekbones, hollowed from nutrient deficiencies. His eyes were a beautiful green, though they looked lifeless these days. His pale skin was pleasing, but covered in grime, blood, sweat and who knows what else, he no longer resembled the proud prince who had fallen so many months ago.

You opened the cage door. “My lord demands you follow me.”

Loki shifted listlessly, a bit of life sparking in his eyes at the mention of your master.

You stepped back, keeping your head bowed. Loki may be a prisoner, but he would soon be a child of Thanos, when time was right.

Here, now though, he looked like a beat dog.

Loki slowly unfolded himself, rising to his full height beside you. His limbs trembled with the effort of making him stand.

There was a flash of fire in his eyes, that old sparkle of mischief you might have once heard of. The flash faded and the light in his eyes dulled again.

You straightened up, turning and leading the way. You could hear him limping after you, following you dutifully.

The bathing chamber was simple: a cold stone bath, no decorations, nothing to make the room notable.

You knelt before the tub, placing your hand in the bubbly water and feeling its temperature. It was warmer than a frost giant might like, you imagined idly, but there was nothing to be done for him now.

Loki crossed the room, stopping and swaying at the tub.

“You may enter.”

Loki looked down at his tattered garb. He stripped, tossing it to the side before stepping into the tub. He let out a sharp hiss as the warm water enveloped him. He gripped the edge of the tub on both sides, jaw clenched as he grit his teeth, leaning back against the tub and trying to take in the relative luxury.

You lathered shampoo on your hands then turned back to Loki. His eyes were shut and if it weren’t for the pale knuckles gripped tight as a vise, he might have looked peaceful. Moving behind him, you ran your fingers through his black hair. He had always used product to style it, trying to keep the waviness away, but with the heat of the chamber he was kept in as well as this one, there was no hoping for it to remain as he wanted.

Methodically, rigidly, you scrubbed at his hair. Dried blood on his skull, hidden by the black hair, became wet and ran down his skin, mixing with the tub’s water. From other various wounds, reopening now with his movements, the water tinged pink. It was hard to say where the blood was coming from anymore, the mixture of grime as he sat there, running off his skin in inky black trails.

You finished his hair, returning a sense of its previous lushness to it, but still, there was more to come.

You flicked the shampoo from your hands, reaching for a sponge that you quickly covered in soap. Then you began the next part.

You smoothed the sponge over his skin, trying to keep a gentle touch but some of the grime marks demanded more strength from you. When the sponge touched his skin, Loki’s fingers managed to grow even paler, somehow tightening his grip even more.

The sponge mixed with the blood and grime, washing it away. You turned on the faucet, rinsing away the mess but he was sitting in so much grime at this point that there was no reason to continue.

You motioned for him to move, emptying the tub, and once more, refilling it.

With the worst of the blood, grime, and other stuff washed away, he was starting to look almost human again. Asgardian, you amended mentally.

The sponge ran along his skin, your other hand following, smoothing over the various scars marring his skin. Each raised bump you traced your finger along like a blind person reading braille. You committed each raised bump to memory, longing to bandage his wounds and treat him with more dignity.

Loki scrunched his eyes shut as you began to scrub further down his body. The heat of the water still needling at him as you searched for any spots you might have missed. He had to be in perfect shape.

Another two empties of the tub and the water stopped looking so grimy. Still tinges of pink floated from his open wounds.

The last tub was emptied, Loki stood from the water at your beckoning and forced himself upright, head held high. He swayed where he stood, eyes shutting briefly.

You walked behind him, inspecting his naked form for any blemishes. Some blood yes, but those were open wounds that would heal eventually. The rest of the mess though? You had cleaned him well.

You guided him over to a chair before what might have been a vanity at one point. Instead there was no mirror. You filed his fingernails, broken, bloodied and clawlike. They had scratched desperately at anything and everything as he sought an escape. You trimmed them to a neat and even length, filing them down. His hands were beautiful, you marveled internally, fingers gliding over his as you shifted them this way and that. You cleaned the grime from under his nails. His hands had to be clean, to be perfect, they would hold the scepter after all.

Hands cleaned, you moved on. You brushed his hair, applying hair gel to spike it, making him look more menacing and dangerous. Loki leaned back in the chair as you worked on his hair, eyes shut. It was almost as though he was being pampered in a spa, not a trophy sent off to war.

After a while, you pulled away, reaching to the previously unnoticed box on the floor. You opened it, revealing black and green, leather and gold armor.

Loki stood dutifully, eyes still shut. He stepped into his trousers and you tugged them up to his hips. You fussed around him for a moment, ensuring it fit and he looked proper. You reached for the leather chest piece, the various straps something of a maze to be explored. Piece after piece was placed over him until he was fully dressed. You knelt again and helped him step into his boots.

“Your helmet, my liege.” You murmured softly.

“No.” Loki replied, barely a breath. “Not now.” He waved his hand and in a shimmer of green the horned crown appeared in his hands. “In time.” He twisted it in his hands, some of his strength seeming to return. He no longer swayed where he stood, though you marveled at the weight of his armor. How did he still have strength to wear it and stand?

The helmet vanished from Loki’s hands, another shimmer of green and it was gone. You realized he had tucked it away into some pocket dimension.

Instead of protesting, you bowed your head to him, watching as he vanished the green cloak. “Not yet.” He said softly, watching his things vanish.

A streak of defiance ran through you, and you found yourself cupping his cheek with your hand.

Loki looked down at you, towering over you with his height. He seemed unfazed by your touch, though for a moment it looked like he might have flinched.

You smiled up at him, smoothing your thumb for a moment as you studied him.

Life seemed to be returning to his eyes, that spark you had once seen flickered faintly.

You pulled away as the chamber door opened, one of Thanos’ other servants entering the room.

“Is the prisoner ready?”

You stole a glance at Loki. Already you had moved away, hands behind your back and head bowed in deference.

“He is.” Loki replied.

The servant nodded. “Follow.” They turned and did not look back at Loki.

You curtsied as Loki moved away from you.

Right as he left the room, he cast a look at you. It was something akin to fondness, perhaps a degree of gratitude. If only there was something more you could do for him now.