Good Girl*
You huffed, glaring at the target a few yards away from you as you gripped the throwing knife in your hand. You had been flinging blades at the target for what seemed like hours at this point and only a few had stuck into the wood – at places nowhere near the bullseye.
Your frustration at every passing failure mounted and was amplified by the fact that you were being watched and taught by your incredibly handsome and charming best friend, the God of Mischief himself.
Technically, this wasn’t a skill that you needed to learn since you were only a nurse in the Avenger’s tower hospital wing. But Loki insisted on teaching you and he was a surprisingly patient instructor.
“You know, you’re getting better,” He hummed in response to your hesitation, standing intimidatingly close behind you.
You had met him in the hospital wing when he was forced into completing a pervasive and absurd medical examination – his phrasing, not yours. In other words, when he had to undergo the mandatory annual physical that all Avengers needed to do in order to be cleared for missions.
An unlikely but close friendship blossomed between you two after his appointment quickly became a battle of wits and negotiation in order to complete his physical. You were good at your job and you were used to dealing with stubborn heroes so you were more than up for the challenge.
Well, that and no other nurse wanted to deal with him, either from fear or frustration.
“Are you looking at the same target as me?” You asked, glancing back – and up – at him, noting the small, amused smirk on his lips as your eyes met his.
There were several things to get used to when being Loki’s friend. One was his nearly constant disregard for your personal space. With others, he seemed adamant to keep his distance, both physically and every other sense of the word, but with you, he was never more than an arm’s reach away. Not that you minded of course.
And while he wasn’t as tall as his brother, his lean, tall build was one of his most striking features. You were used to being either taller or the same height as most of your friends, even some of your guy friends. However, at your height, he would only have to lean down a little to press his lips against –
“Having fun?” His voice suddenly snapped you out of your thoughts as he appeared standing beside you with a grin and a devious gleam in his eyes. His long, black hair was pushed out of his face and tucked behind his ears, perfectly framing his gorgeous features.
“What?” You asked, furrowing your brows.
His grin grew as he crossed his arms over his chest, looking down at you, “You were lost in a daydream, Darling. What has you so distracted and, more importantly, what has brought such a cute little blush upon your cheeks?”
Your eyes narrowed in a half-earnest glare at him, feeling your blush deepen. He knew exactly what he was doing by the smug and all too pleased look on his face.
“You know, you don’t have to daydream about me. I’m right here,” He stretched out his arms, now showing off his pearly whites in his smile.
With a frustrated groan, you decided not to egg him on, knowing how flirtatious he can be, and focused back on the task at hand. You held the throwing knife with a hammer grip, making sure to focus on keeping your wrist locked in place, all advice from Loki.
Determined to at least hit the target this time, you propelled the knife from your grip, holding your breath for the split-second wait until it finally – miraculously – stuck into the wood with a satisfying thunk.
It didn’t hit the bullseye, but it did lodge into one of the outer painted rings. You stood there with your eyes glued to the knife in disbelief.
“My Darling, you’re becoming more lethal by the minute,” His voice purred into your ear as his large hands squeezed your shoulders. Your knees suddenly felt weak, and you fought the urge – as you often did – to melt into his touch.
“I did it,” A smile grew on your lips as you tilted your head up to look at him.
His eyes gleamed softly as his smile matched yours, “I had every confidence in your ability to learn from the start. And you do know how much I love being right.”
You snorted out a laugh even though your cheeks grew warm from his praise.
“I wouldn’t get too far ahead ourselves. I haven’t even hit the bullseye yet.”
“In due time,” He tutted, removing one of his hands from your shoulder to give your bum a light pat, “Now go retrieve the knife and try again.”
You jolted, then whipped around to huff at him with your face burning. Loki’s sheer audacity really shouldn’t surprise you at this point, but that didn’t stop you from narrowing your eyes at his smug face. You weren’t actually offended by the action, and he knew this as amusement twinkled in his eye at your reaction.
“Why do I put up with you?” You settled on muttered under your breath, before turning back around to stride over to the target.
He chuckled, “Would you like the unabridged version or just the highlights?”
With an eyeroll accompanied by a small grin, you pluck the knife from the wood fairly easily as it wasn’t lodged in too deep.
“Good girl,” He all but cooed teasingly. The phrase combined with his velvety voice caused your brain to momentarily short-circuit as it caused an unexpected, but oh-so-pleasant shiver down your spine.
Your eyes locked with his, checking to see if he noticed your reaction when your brain came back to life. You inwardly groaned as you saw his eyes light up in recognition and delight, his tongue darting out to wet his lips. To your surprise, he didn’t comment on it further, and you managed to stick the blade into the target a few more times.
After calling it quits with knife-throwing practice, you decided to hit the showers before meeting Loki in his room to watch TV. After cleaning off the sweat, you threw on some comfy clothes and grabbed drinks for the both of you from the communal kitchen before heading to his floor.
His door magically opened automatically for you right as you were about to knock. You stepped inside to see him already lounging out on his large dark green sofa, eyes glued to the flatscreen on the opposite wall.
“I still don’t understand how you know when I arrive at your door,” You mumbled, briefly examining the door before shutting it, setting the drinks on the coffee table, and plopping down on the couch.
“I’m a god,” He deadpanned, shifting his body closer to you.
You stifle a giggle, “You’re not omnipresent, though. And don’t think I don’t notice that ‘I’m a god’ is your go-to answer for when you don’t want to explain something to me.”
He turned his head to look at you, raising his brows with his signature smirk, “Such a smart girl. But what if I was? What if I knew exactly what you were doing and thinking all the time? Tell me, Darling, what would I see?”
You bit down on the inside of your cheek to calm your nerves as he studied your expression. You tried desperately not to give your racing inner thoughts away. In a somewhat clumsy strategy to change the subject, you pointed to the screen.
“Look, its footage from some fashion week. Should be interesting to you, the self-proclaimed most fashionable Avenger.”
He rolled his eyes but directed his gaze to the screen and you followed suit. These outfits weren’t as impractical or ridiculous as some you’ve seen on a runway, but the spectacle still left a bitter taste in your mouth.
You certainly wouldn’t consider yourself fat, but your body didn’t look like these models’. They were all hailed as beautiful since they held up or even set the beauty standard for the rest of society.
“I don’t understand,” Loki suddenly hummed, squinting at the screen, “They all have the same body type. If they truly wanted to sell these garments, why not include multiple body sizes and shapes?”
You were slightly taken aback by his words, “Uh, well some fashion shows aren’t really meant to sell clothes per say. They’re meant more for…art? But I mean, I guess it would make sense for both versions to show off their clothes…or creations, on gorgeous women. These models are widely considered the standard for beauty.”
His eyes flickered over to you, showing genuine concern, “A standard for beauty? You mean to tell me, that if a woman doesn’t look like these models, she isn’t considered beautiful?”
You nodded, albeit reluctantly and quickly explained, “Well, everyone can have their own opinion on what features are considered…desirable. But in our culture, there are certain features or body shapes that are generally deemed pretty or acceptable or even beautiful, and certain ones that…aren’t. And it’s not just girls, everyone can be affected by beauty standards.”
He grew quiet, seeming to take in this information with a slightly alarmed look on his face.
“That’s a horrid practice,” He finally spoke, rubbing his chin, “Asgardian bodies come in all different shapes and sizes, much like Midgardians. Not one set of features or body measurements is deemed superior over the others.”
You snorted, “Maybe I should move realms then.”
His attention snapped back to you, his expression softening for a moment as a look of candid sadness flickered over his eyes.
He tilted his head as he regarded you seriously, “Do you not think your body is beautiful?”
His voice was the softest you had ever heard it and that alone nearly broke your heart.
“Uhm,” Your voice threatened to crack as you frantically searched for a proper answer.
Without another word, he stood up from the couch, turning the screen off as he did so. He held out his hand, which you took without hesitation. Standing you up, he then led you to his full-length mirror on the back of his bathroom door.
He gently maneuvered your body so that you were facing the mirror with him standing tall behind you. You were speechless as he locked eyes with you through the reflection, placing his hands on your hips.
“What do you see in the mirror, Darling?”
Your eyes scanned your reflection. It was…odd. You didn’t often truly look at yourself in a mirror, only using it to check your appearance or to fix your hair or makeup. It made you feel vulnerable in a way, causing the urge to squirm under both his gaze and yours.
“Uh, me?” You replied lamely, not fully understanding what answer he was looking for.
His lips twitched upwards in amusement, “Would you like to know what I see?”
After I nodded, albeit reluctantly, he continued in his honeyed voice, “I see a young maiden whose exquisite beauty is not only due to her quick wit, kind and caring soul, and other exceptional internal traits. Your body is as beautiful to me as your mind and heart, Darling.”
Your mind struggled to find the words to respond. Loki complimenting you wasn’t unusual, but something about his words combined with the adoration that filled his eyes as he gazed at you, made the flattery feel different, pointed and sincere.
Sensing your internal conflict, he wrapped his arms around your waist in a comforting embrace, “I don’t wish to cause you discomfort, Darling. I only aim to convince you to disregard those blasted Midgardian beauty standards. Your body is perfect despite whatever flaws your eyes might see and will continue to be perfect no matter how it changes in the future.”
Your heart and mind were swimming in a flood of emotions. To have an actual god stand behind you and describe you in such a way was overwhelming in the best possible sense. You looked in the mirror, really and truly looked at your body, and a small smile pulled at your lips.
“Thank you,” Your words were whispered, not wanting to disrupt the loving moment.
He grinned widely, pressing a kiss to your temple.
“If only you were truly mine,” He mused in a low voice, his eyes gleaming with mischief and a light dusting of sadness, “I would worship your body like the goddess you are.”
You bit your lip, fighting against the urge to ignore his flirtations like you usually did. You always thought that his advances were nothing more than playful and your heart simply couldn’t take looking like a fool if you made a move on him.
But his words and praises sparked a level of confidence inside of you that you never knew you could possess. Quickly, before your resolve could weaken, you turned around to face him, cupped his jawline in your hands and pressed your lips against his.
His body tensed at first in surprise, but only a second later he recovered, and his soft lips moved against yours with a soft groan. His large hands fell to your waist again, gripping the flesh there as you angled your head, deepening the kiss.
Your fingers found themselves tangled in his dark locks, earning another low groan. You relished in the affect you had on him. In response, his hands smoothed over the globes of your ass before groping them and pressing your body harder against his. A gasp escaped you as your core was pressed against his sizable, hardening bulge.
His tongue delved into your parted lips at the opportunity, exploring your mouth and dancing with your own. The feeling of his body and lips against yours sent tidal waves of arousal throughout your body as you ached for him to be even closer.
Much too soon, you both parted as you panted to regain the breath that he stole from your lungs. You looked into his eyes, as his pupils grew with lust and adoration.
“Are you ready to be worshipped, my Queen?” He asked, his voice an octave deeper and rougher than usual.
You smirked, still radiating with confidence, and nodded, snaking your hand down to where his pants had tightened.
His grin grew and his mouth crashed against yours again, purring against your lips, “Good girl.”