A Whole Bunch of Loki's

Shapeless - Non-curvy Reader

(Excuse the phrase 'non-curvy' but I really had no idea how to title it. I was thinking of going for 'flat' but that just sounded kind of rude to me? I don't know.)

Shapeless.

That is how you had often described yourself when looking in the mirror.

It's how you described yourself as you stared into the mirror in front of you, trying on the outfit you had bought for Tony's party.

In the shop it had seemed perfect, to perfectly sculpt around your body like a second skin, but now that you were trying it on again, barely two weeks later, you felt nothing but shapeless.

No hips pushed out the waist to accentuate a waist and a bust was hardly making the top pop with that extra bit of 'oomph', you didn't even want to think about what was happening at the back.

You stared in dejection and just felt shapeless, flat and now more than insecure when you thought of the others who would be at the party, rocking their outfits.

A rapping at your door drew your attention away from your frowning reflection and you looked over your shoulder, calling out a soft; "Come in."

And in stepped the one man who should make you feel better, but right now only made you feel that little bit worse.

It had been about a year and a half since Loki had come to live at the tower, much to his annoyance, and out of those eighteen months you had been dating for seven.

Everything had started as amicable greetings in passing, a 'hello' here and a wave there as you passed in the corridors on your way to your own business.

Gradually this turned into more casual conversation, which in turn also turned to spending hours talking and hanging out, mostly you showing him the ropes of how to actually fit in amongst the 'Midgardians' without acting like a total freak.

Though he still didn't quite grasp everything, it was interesting to see him attempting to fit in as much as his begrudging self would allow.

Loki looked as elegant as ever, with his lean body that held hidden muscles in the most perfect of ways and his ass which you were ever so slightly envious of.

"Are you ready?" He asked in a tone of pure disinterest.

You opened your mouth to answer but your words faltered, instead you let out a stuttered huff of air and closed it again, licking your bottom lip while shaking your head.

"Why not?" Loki asked, his eyes roaming over you, "you look ready to me."

"I can't go in this, I need to find something else to wear."

"Why?" His eyebrow rose in query, "I thought you were excited about your new attire?"

"I was and now I'm not," you snipped, turning from him and heading to the wardrobe that was built into the wall.

Loki regarded you for a while, trying to decipher your sudden change in attitude towards the clothes you had bought specifically to show off.

He remembered how you'd come home and had been eager to show him what you had bought, Loki had even smiled and let you give him a modelling session so he could see you in the clothes he was looking forward to tearing off after you both inevitably ditched the party early.

You looked over your shoulder to see him standing and staring, unmoving as you went to undress.

Suddenly, you found yourself not wanting him to see you undressed.

"Can you leave please?" You asked softly.

"Pardon?"

"I asked if you can leave."

"Why?"

"I don't want you to see me right now."

Loki regarded you for a while longer then sighed and closed his eyes, his face the very definition of 'done'.

"What is it with you Midgardians and finding problems in yourselves?"

"Are your kind any better?"

"My kind worry about real things, things that make us quite literally marked as monsters within society, nothing as trivial as what your media sets up to be deemed as acceptable."

You fell into silence as a staring contest seemed to emerge between you both.

In truth, you kind of knew that you were being a little ridiculous, but there were moments like this where you wondered why he was sticking with you.

You'd asked him before and he had said how he enjoyed your company, the conversations where you spent hours talking and laughing about nothing.

"But, wouldn't you prefer to have," you shrugged whilst letting out a huff as your hands slapped back against your sides, "something to hold on to or something?"

"No, I'd prefer you stopped listening to what other people say and take peace within yourself."

"That's easier said than done."

"I suppose it is when your media is saying one girl is too curvy and the other is too flat, people are different shapes, why must you all trivialise such nonsense?"

"So you're certain you don't want a girl with hips or boobs?"

"If I wanted one, I would have gotten one," Loki looked at you pointedly, "physical attributes aren't everything, you know."

"I know, but-"

"But nothing," he interrupted confidently.

He strode across the room, closing the gap in barely a few steps.

Once he was stood in front of you, he stared down at you and you up at him.

A lingering moment where his face was unreadable and you were a little anxious about what exactly was going on through his mind, knowing Loki it could have been anything.

You know what you hoped was going to happen.

You gave a small start when he wordlessly straightened out your clothes and then effortlessly manoeuvred you into his arms, carrying you like a bride towards the door.

"Loki? What are you doing?" You asked, a laugh breaking your sentence.

"I'm taking you to the party, I'm tired of waiting and quite frankly don't wish to miss Thor's telling of the time he had to dress up as a bride for one of my many schemes."

You rolled your eyes but smiled all the same and rested your head against his shoulder, getting comfortable as it seemed that he wasn't going to let you down anytime soon.

"I thought you said our Norse myths were false?"

"Now, darling," he chuckled, a glint in his eye as he looked down at you, "I said some were false."