Insecure

                                    

                                          
A/n: Just a reminder that all bodies are beautiful ;)
                          
You couldn't help it. The endless hours of comparing yourself to others, scrolling through your social media, admiring all the 'perfect' bodies you saw. 
                          
You weren't fat. Just curvy. You had wide hips and a bit of a tummy. You had stretch marks on your sides and cellulite on your thighs, and because of this, you saw yourself as ugly, disfigured, undeserving of love. 
                          
It was after your relationship with Brad went public that you started obsessing over your weight. Before, the extra fat didn't bother you much. But after constant comments on how you were putting on weight, you couldn't help but start to hate the person you saw in the mirror. 
                          
You had slow metabolism, so no matter how much exercise you did, how many diets you tried, the weight stayed with you. You never got rid of more than a few pounds.
                          
The comments that got to you most were the ones about how Brad deserves someone skinnier, prettier, fitter, ect. Brad was the perfect guy, and sometimes, you felt like you weren't good enough for him. Some of Brad's fans tagged you in photos of his exes, who (in your opinion) were all prettier and thinner than you.
                          
You're stood in your underwear in front of your mirror, staring at the fat on your body. Your eyes tear up as you take in the rolls on your stomach, the lack of a thigh gap, the overall imperfections. 
                          
"Hey baby." Your boyfriend enters your shared bedroom, wrapping his arms around you. "Hi." You give him a small smile, blinking rapidly to get rid of the tears and not seem upset. It doesn't work. "Is something wrong?" You try not to look uncomfortable with the fact that your in your underwear, even though Brad's seen you in less.
"No. Of course not." 
"Are you sure? Did I do something?"
"Everything's fine Brad." You snap. "Sorry." You turn to hug him, trying to think of an excuse. "I'm just a little tired." He nods understandingly, kissing the top of your head. "Do you need anything?" 
"No thank you."
"Okay. Do you want to do something or do you just want to lie down and cuddle on the sofa?" You grin at him.
"The second one please." 
"Your wish is my command." He winks cheekily, dimples out. "I'll let you get dressed." 
                          
He shuts the door behind him, leaving you to decide on an outfit to wear. After a few minutes of rummaging through your outfits for a comfy outfit, you decide to wear one of Brad's old hoodies. When you open the door to the living room, you're greeted by the sight of a shirtless Brad swathed in a few blankets and watching an episode of The Office. Brad smiles in greeting at you. 
                          
His eyes rake over your body, and you fidget, slightly uncomfortable. "Why do my hoodies always look better on you?" You giggle at his words, rolling your eyes. "They don't." You say truthfully.
"Lets just... agree to disagree." 
                          
He beckons you over, shifting the blankets so you can slide in next to him. When your snuggled in, he puts his hand on your waist, pulling you closer towards him so that your back is resting against his bare chest. He puts his other arm under your head so that your resting on it comfortably, before placing his head in the small space between your shoulder and head. 
                          
You stay like that for a while, comfortably watching the tv, until you hear Brad start to snore. You giggle and turn around slowly. His eyes are closed, his mouth slightly open as he snores gently. 
                          
While he's asleep, you take the opportunity to just look at him. His hair is slightly longer now, but still as curly as ever. He looks perfect. You lower your gaze, admiring his toned abs and lack of fat. Your smile fades as you remember your own flaws, and you carefully get up, slowly removing yourself from Brad's grip.
                          
You find yourself back in your bedroom, lying on your stomach scrolling through Instagram. You stare at all the thin people on your page, feeling more and more disgusted with yourself with every picture. Eventually, the feeling of self-loathing gets too intense and you shut off your phone, tears running down your face. You bury your head in a pillow, muffling the sound of your sobs.
                          
You're not sure how long you've been crying for when you feel the bed dip slightly. A hand is placed on your head, stroking your hair and comforting you. After a few minutes, you finally stop crying. You take a deep breath and sit up, your y/e/c eyes meeting Brad's warm brown ones.
                          
You look down, ashamed, but Brad lifts your head gently so that you have no choice but to look him in the eye. "What's wrong?" You shake your head slowly, trying to smile despite the situation. "Nothing. I'm fine." Brad frowns at you. 
"It's obviously not nothing if you're crying." He emphasises, knowing he's right. 
                          
For a minute, you contemplate lying. But then, you realise how important honesty is, and how, if it was Brad who felt the way you do, you'd want to know. 
                          
You take a deep breath, looking everywhere except into your boyfriends eyes. "I don't get why you're with me." His eyebrows furrow in obvious confusion, and he stays silent, wanting you to elaborate. You sigh before opening your mouth again. "I don't get why you're with someone like me. I'm not as pretty as all of your exes.. I mean, look at me. My thighs are huge, I have these stupid stretch marks and practically all of your fans hate me. I look nothing like all the pretty girls on Instagram, I have horrible breakouts, I look chubby in everything I wear... And then there's you, who always looks completely perfect. People say that I don't deserve you and.. I think they're right." Brad moves closer to you, resting his hands on your shoulder, his eyes staring deep into your own. 
                          
"Everyone is flawed, y/n. You're beautiful, I don't know how you can't see that. Your body is perfect, and you have a lot of other good qualities. You're kind, funny, thoughtful... you're absolutely amazing. If anything, I'm the one who doesn't deserve you. Half the pictures of people on the internet are edited to make them look different. Nobody is perfect. I think you look stunning in everything you wear, regardless of what you say. And I don't want to you to think so badly about yourself, okay?" You nod hesitantly, still thinking. 
                          
Brad kisses you gently on the lips before resting his forehead against yours, his eyes closed. "Thank you." You breathe out quietly. He smiles slightly before kissing you on the nose. "Anytime, love."