Being a curvy girl, you’re quite self-conscious in your appearance.
Day in and day out, you wear large t-shirts and sweatpants.
Obviously, these aren’t just regular old t-shirts and sweatpants. In fact, they happen to be your favorite wear.
Star Wars, Batman, Kingdom Hearts, ETC. It varies, to say the least.
Loki has always been curious as to the reason why you had a knack for such large clothing.
One day, you realize you’ve run out of your typical bagging clothing, and you began to freak.
Shit, shit, shit..
Rummaging through your basket, you’ve yet to come across something large and quite frankly, comfortable.
The one thing that you’d never allow to happen, actually did. You simply forgot to do laundry. Between focusing on your writing, artwork, and (attempting to) become healthy, you lost track of it.
This left you with few choices and even fewer options. The things left in your hamper, were shorts and tank tops.
Dear God, whatever evil possessed me to buy these things, I don’t know. But, I’m screwed.
Retrieving the shorts and a couple of tank tops from the basket, you’ve no choice but to wear them. At least, until you’ve finished with your pile of laundry.
You drag the load in a basket, down the hall, preparing to dump it into the washer. A chilling voice flutters into your ears, moments before your fingers caress the tiny knobs on the machine, and you can feel the blood pouring into your cheeks.
Shit..
“You’re doing laundry?” He queries.
You hadn’t the guts to look him in the eye. Far too embarrassed by your lack of clothing. You were hoping you would be able to dump your laundry and scurry back to your room, before he managed to find you, “Yep.”
You continue to pull and switch the knobs, as Loki continued. “This is most peculiar.” You can practically hear the smirk in his response, “I’ve never taken you for the suggestive type.”
It were evident that he intended to tease and you didn’t want to be apart of it, “I’m not. I forgot to do my laundry.”
“Of course.” A glimpse in his direction and you catch wind of his smug contortion.
Why? Of all the people in the world, why did it have to be him?
You advance down the hall, in attempt to sprint pass the God, but your brought to a forced halt, his fingers around your wrist, “Where are you going?”
“To my room.” You argue.
“Why?”
“Because I feel naked!”
Loki continues to interrogate your sudden outburst. When you decide to give in, you proceed to explain to him how disgusting your body is to you, and how ‘fat’ you are, only to find that Loki quite frankly disagrees with your opinion.
“Your body is a temple, worthy of worship. Your thighs are glorious crevices, worthy of exploration. Your hips, curvaceous mountains, tailored perfectly proportionate to your breasts.”
As you attempt to go against his statement, a sigh elicits from the God’s throat, “You care too much of what others think. You are mistaken in what true beauty is, darling.”
By this point, you are a hot mess. Your heart ricochets against your rib cage, your cheeks are flushed, your breathes are unsteady.
Why was he so determined to convince you otherwise.
“If you would allow me, I would gladly be the God to worship this body in which you’ve deemed flawed.” A lop-sided grin painted across his face.
