Big Girls, You Are Beautiful
Request for Allison/AshtonWinchester
A/N: The request was about Loki getting flustered, and I really wanted to write an insecurity story, and I wasn’t sure how to make Loki flustered, so I thought I’d mix the two. So kind of chubby!reader.
So… I kind of didn’t expand on the Loki getting flustered part… I apologize. I hope you still like it. I put a lot of effort into it.
You’d always been on the bigger side. You were of average height so you weren’t tall enough for your height to balance out your weight, and no matter how much you worked out, you couldn’t seem to slim down. Ever since childhood, you had extra skin pudging out everywhere. Your thighs were thick though not flabby, you had a protruding belly that often provided muffin tops when you wore tight pants, and your upper arms were a little wider than you’d like. The only upside you’d managed to find to all of this was that you had a larger-than-average chest. Family and friends always told you not to worry about it, that the fat would go away eventually or that it was just muscle waiting to be tightened. You had tried dieting and going to the gym and leading a healthy lifestyle, but now in your late twenties it seemed like no progress had been made.
You decided to stop trying. You went back to eating whatever you liked, and when you were feeling particularly down on yourself, you’d wolf down a pan of brownies while watching Pitch Perfect. You weren’t necessarily accepting of your chubby body, but you stopped wasting effort trying to change it.
You met Loki during Tony’s welcoming party. The team had finally accepted the ex-villain as one of their own and invited everyone who was willing to come to the god’s welcoming party. Loki didn’t much enjoy being the center of attention of a bunch of oohing and awwing mortals, but he suffered through it for the sake of not getting pushed out the window.
You weren’t one for parties, but you were fascinated by the raven-haired god who everyone seemed to be against. You lingered away from the crowd, feeling self-conscious as always. When you were just going to the store, you’d throw on some comfortable jeans and a hoodie, effectively hiding your chub long enough to run your errands. Going out with people required a little more effort. You wanted to look nice, but not a lot of dresses suited your body type. You’d found a couple that accented your plentiful chest enough to distract from your pudgy belly and thighs, so you threw that on with a pair of leggings and your favorite boots. It was stylish without making you uncomfortable.
You met eyes with the beautiful man across the dance floor. You were seated at a table, nursing a Shirley Temple. You weren’t much for drinking, especially when you had to drive yourself home.
Seeing as you were the only seemingly sane human and the only one who wasn’t all over him for one reason or another, he quickly crossed the room and took a seat opposite you. You looked up at him in surprise. Men usually never approached you, or if they did, they quickly turned the other way when they saw you weren’t a Barbie doll.
“Hi there,” you greeted awkwardly.
He smiled at you. “Hello. I must say, you are a beautiful maiden.”
Your eyes widened in surprise as your cheeks burned. “Thank you…”
He tilted his head, a frown on his lips. “You seemed surprised to receive a compliment.”
You glanced down at your body, silently pointing out all of your flaws. “I don’t think I’ve ever been called beautiful, at least not by someone who wasn’t family.”
His frown deepened. “Then all those other men don’t know what they’re missing. And women, too, for that matter. You are beautiful.”
“Thank you,” you repeated, looking down at your lap.
He looked up, eyes darting around the room as though weighing his options. He turned his attention back to you. “Would you like to go for a walk with me?”
You looked up at him, surprise in your eyes once more. “Can the guest of honor walk out of his own party?”
He rolled his eyes. “This is Stark’s party. He’s just using me as an excuse.” He stood, offering you a pale hand.
You let out a giggle and took it, cringing when you saw how thick your hand looked in comparison to his bony fingers. He didn’t seem to notice as he pulled you up with no effort and led you to the door.
That was two years ago. You two became inseparable, completely in love with each other.
It was your two year anniversary and you were getting ready. Loki was taking you to your favorite restaurant. You usually stayed in for date night, but once in a while he convinced you to let him take you out.
You stood before your full-body mirror, clad in nothing but a bra and panties. A pout took over your lips as you turned this way and that, looking at all of your pudge and flab. A sigh escaped your lips as you crossed your arms over your protruding belly and your gaze fell to the floor.
“Darling, are you re- oh.”
You looked up from your self-loathing to find a very red-faced Loki standing in the doorway. Two years together and you’d never seen each other naked. He walked around shirtless every now and then, but you were too embarrassed to even change clothes in front of him. He never pushed you, understanding self-consciousness and insecurity.
Your blush matched his as you quickly reached for your robe, holding it in front of you like a shield. He stepped into the room and closed the door, moving to stand in front of you and wrap his arms around your waist.
“Why have you never let me see all of this beauty?” he whispered, leaning down to kiss your jaw.
“What beauty?” you replied, choking back tears. “It’s all fat.”
“(y/n), I meant it when I called you beautiful the first day I met you,” he stated softly, his hands gently holding your hips. “I have never seen you as anything other than a wonderful, beautiful woman, inside and out.”
He moved to stand behind you, his arms wrapping around your waist and his head resting on the shoulder. Your eyes flickered up, meeting his in your reflection. He smiled softly, pressing a gentle kiss to your neck.
“Show me what makes you unhappy,” he requested. You placed your hands on your abdomen which stuck out when you turned to the side. He bent down and pressed a kiss to your side, causing you to blush.
“Why does that make you unhappy?” he inquired.
“Muffin tops,” you replied simply. You had to giggle when he tiled his head in confusion.
“When you’re wearing tight pants and the skin on your hips hangs over the top, we call it your ‘muffin tops’. Girls generally don’t like having them.”
He pressed another kiss to your hip, gently rubbing his thumb across the skin. “I’ll buy you different pants. Or you could wear dresses. I love your dresses.”
You shook your head. “Dresses show my belly fat.”
He let out a soft sigh and you worried that he was giving up. Instead he moved to stand in front of you, still gently holding your hips. “Love, I’m not going to deny that you’re a bigger woman. I would never lie to you. But that does not change my opinion of you. I saw that you weren’t stick thin like the girls that Stark always takes to bed, and I liked that. Those girls are unhealthy. Your pudgy belly and ‘muffin tops’ tell me that you actually eat something besides salad and crackers. You let yourself eat and you don’t let someone else’s image stop you. I love that about you. I have always thought you were beautiful. I think you look wonderful in dresses or jeans. I could never think of you as fat or ugly, because those are awful words. People who use those words are the ugly ones. You are incredible.”
He pulled you closer by his hips, not caring that your belly stuck out or that you were still mostly naked. He leaned down and pressed his lips to yours, trying to pour his emotions and opinions into a kiss. You responded hesitantly, resting your hands on his chest.
He pulled back and nuzzled your nose with his. “Would you prefer to stay inside and watch a movie?”
“I thought you wanted to go out,” you replied, looking up at him.
He smiled softly. “I just wanted to make you comfortable with going out. It’s your anniversary too. We can sit in bed and watch Pitch Perfect and eat brownies for our anniversary instead.”
Tears welled up in your eyes, causing him to panic.
“What did I say?” he asked frantically. “Darling, please don’t cry.”
You shook your head before burying it in his chest. “I’m just happy. I can’t believe how lucky I am to be with you.”
He smiled, kissing your forehead. “Go put on your robe or whatever you’re comfortable in and get the movie started. I’ll go into the kitchen and get food. Dinner or snacks?”
“Snacks,” you replied. “We can eat dinner later.”
He smiled again with one final kiss to your lips before turning away and heading to the kitchen.
And so your anniversary was spent cuddling in bed, him in just his pajama pants and you wearing your fluffy (f/c) robe over your bra and panties. Half a pan of brownies sat on the nightstand, along with two wine glasses, a half-empty wine bottle, and a container of strawberries. You fell asleep curled into his chest, his arms wrapped snuggly around you and his head resting on yours.